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#every Tuesday I make sure they’re watered and looking nice
sludgefriend · 15 days
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Today, I woke up feeling better than I did yesterday. So that was good. I went into work, and made sure to say hello and good morning to everyone that I work with. This has become important to me, for some reason. We’re working on rice surveys, still. I’m looking forward to them being over, at this point. It’s very… dynamic work. By dynamic I mean not very organized or structured. I really never know quite what to expect, and usually, results are rarely quite what we want them to be. At the very least, I usually enjoy the activities surrounding the rice. It puts me in swamps and streams, sometimes in a kayak. There’s so much beauty in a wetland. Each inch of them is teeming with weird little lifeforms. My favorite kind. I’ve also really come to enjoy kayaking. I knew that I would; I’ve always loved being in water and on water vehicles. Even though I’m shit at swimming and predestined to drown. One of my coworkers taught me to stir my kayak sideways a while back. I struggled a lot with the movement at first. My connection with the motor skills of my accursed corporeal form still leave something to be desired. But I’m learning, you know? And learn, I did. I went from flailing around helplessly to being able to whip out a really great side-stir at a moment’s notice within about an hour.
Anyways. Our sites today were two hours of driving from the office. Pretty sick, honestly. Easy work and a decent helping of fucking around. Spent the drive laughing and joking with my coworkers. Our first site, an agricultural drainage ditch, was a dud. Apparently it had been bustling with rice in previous years. Although, we found a big clam shell with a nice little hole through the middle of it. It had a little magic in it, I thought, so I kept it. Reminded me of a witching stone.
The second site was this big wildlife reservation… thing. Mostly wetlands. Loaded with rice. We just went to confirm the presence of rice, though. Not actually survey. Something about the place felt like being in another country. Whereas the rest of Indiana is just Fucking Corn, this place was bustling with a variety of greenery and life. I got to see sandhill cranes, great egrets, and blue herons. Lovely! Big beautiful birds. This place was also LOADED with soras. A funny little water bird with a very animated little tail that I’d previously dubbed the Illusive Peeper due to a previous struggle that we’d had finding and identifying the little guys. Other sites had handfuls of these guys. We were practically surrounded by them in this one. They have such a delightful call. Such charming little fellows…
After work I sorted bugs with Sarah for our volunteer position. We do this every Tuesday after work. It would genuinely be such a boring task without her, especially because it always comes immediately after our usual 8 hour work day, but the time really just flies. I’m really thankful that she ended up working here.
On the way home from work, I spotted a bald eagle sitting in a field. Bewildering! What are you doing here! I didn’t know you were here! Helllooooooo. Anyways. I was really excited to see him. I pulled my car over and tried to take a picture, but I ended up spooking him off. Oh well. Some things in life are meant to be experienced, not kept, I suppose. I was glad to see him anyways.
I’m tired now. I’ve realized that I focus so much on all of the negative thoughts and concepts in my head and life. It’s easy because they’re so prominent and also just kinda fun to write and think about. But I do think that I am fucking poisoning myself. So, I’m making an extra effort to find all of the good things in my day and life.
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prosperdemeter2 · 1 year
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Teaser Tuesday- family reunion (working title)
“Anyway,” Howie continued when Maddie was too lost in her worry to vocalize anything else. “I’ll be there on Friday.” At eleven thirty at night, Maddie remembered. “And then we’ll be back home on Monday.” At three forty-five in the morning. “Just another five days without me.” 
And what a long five days it would be. Maddie smiled back at him and relaxed back against her pillows. “We can’t wait to show you around.” They would save the science museum for him, Maddie decided. They could wander the Common, go to a broadway show, the waterfront, some breweries. Maybe they would even visit Daniel without Howie accompanying. Even if she wanted him to see every part of her, she didn’t know if Buck wanted Howie to have that part of him too. It would be unfair to him for her to make that decision for him. Daniel was as much a part of him as he was as part of her. 
“We can stop by and say hi to Eli.” 
She had forgotten about Eli, Howie’s old partner from the 118. The man who had let Howie and Jee live in his basement while Howie searched the city for her and waited for her to be ready to leave. He had been nice, kind and understanding in a way Maddie hadn’t expected when they had met. A good friend for Howie to have. Level, in a way that Hen was. “I’d like that.” Maddie realized it was true as she said it. Maybe she’d thank him, even, for all that he had done to help keep Howie’s head on straight. 
A light knock rhythmically jolted on her door. A quick little one, two, three and then a backwards three, two, three. Maddie’s lips twitched into a fond little smile. “One minute, Howie.” She whispered and swiftly stood, slipping her feet into her hotel issue slippers and flicking the lock on the hotel door. “Well, well,” Maddie chided softly, leaning her body against the doorframe with her arms crossed and squinting into the bright yellow light of the hallway. “Are you sneaking into my room?” 
Evan shushed her and pushed her gently back inside, even as the two of them snickered like little children. “Shh,” he cautioned with a glance over his shoulder. “I somehow managed to avoid mom and dad but they’re just coming up from the bar.” He had disappeared into his own room after they had arrived back from dinner, kissed Jee goodnight and locked his door. Maddie hadn’t bothered him, even if she wanted to. They had a tradition, after all. One that she had thought he had forgotten until he was knocking on her door. 
“Quiet,” she scolded jokingly and nodded towards Jee-Yun in the bed. 
Jee would be fine, really. She slept like Howie and that was like the dead. The two of them could sleep through an earthquake once they really knocked out. Still, Buck glanced at her and his face softened the way it always did when he was looking at Jee. “Sorry.” He mumbled but dutifully dropped his bounty of vending machine snacks on Maddie’s tiny dining room table by the window. 
“Let me finish up with Howie,” he wrinkled his nose and she wordlessly hit at his bicep. “And we can get started.” 
“Get started?” Howie chimed in curiously from where she had thrown the phone on the sheets when got up to answer the door. Maddie flicked the lock again and perched him on the table, leaning up against a half drunk water bottle. He flicked his gaze around the room and Maddie caught, even if she wasn’t sure she was supposed to, the way his eyes stayed a little longer on Buck’s tall frame as he settled back against her pillows, long legs stretched out in front of him. 
Maddie set him a crooked smile. “It’s a tradition.” She provided with a wink. 
“A super secret Buckley tradition?” Howie echoed with the note of teasing in his voice he always used when either her or Buck gave something about their childhood away to him. “Indoctrinating our daughter into it?” 
“It’s a sibling tradition only.” Maddie corrected. “Jee’s still sleeping.” He wanted to know more, she knew he did, but she didn’t particularly want to give it to him. Not that there was anything to hide. It was a simple, silly tradition anyway. Evan would sneak into her room on their first night with vending machine snacks and drinks they usually weren’t allowed to have and they’d stay up until late with pay-per-view black and white movies. He always spent the first night with her, the two of them falling asleep in the same bed, and they hadn’t done it since Evan’s high school graduation. Maddie had thought he had forgotten, but she supposed Buck held onto memories the same way she did. “I’ll talk to you in the morning, okay? Be safe if you get called out again.” 
“Always will.” Howie reassured. “I love you.” 
Maddie blushed, but only because of the absent way Buck responded without looking up from his phone, a small little annoying grin on his face. “I love you too, Chim.” 
“Fuck off, Buckley.” 
“Love you too, Howie.” Maddie said with a laugh and she waited until he smiled back at her before pressing the little red phone. 
She tossed herself next to Buck on the bed, a bag of chips between them and her head dropping quickly onto his shoulder. He wiggled in closer, a whole person bigger than he had been when they started this tradition at two and twelve but still just as eager to pull his safety from her warmth. Maddie sat up and grabbed for the remote. “All About Eve?” She asked as she flicked on the television. 
“The Petrified Forest.” He argued and sank down a little farther, his left leg hanging half off the bed in a way that had Maddie curious but she didn’t know how to ask. She nodded and clicked on the movie, still as his head settled on her hip and her hand landed in his hair. 
Maddie had come here for herself, for closure. Buck had come for her. 
She would do her best to keep the both of them safe, just as she always had. 
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obeiii-mee · 3 years
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Can I angst for Mammon where he is in a really bad mood and his brothers are at it again calling him names. And already ask them kindly to leave him alone but they keep at it. And Levi says something and it's the last straw. The air around them get cold for a moment as he slowly looks up and he flat out threatens them to shut up before he puts them back into there place with a really dark and threatening voice, before leaving. And the look could rival Satan's or even Lucifers glare.
I think Mammon takes the abuse of his brothers but sometimes he isn't in the mood and want a little peace and it is very very rare for him to get pissed
Like he's the kind of person who would yell when he's upset but when he's down right pissed it's like really fucking scary
People forget that as much as he lets his brothers push him around he is still the second oldest and is powerful so 😬
Brothers+ undateables reaction
Mammon snaps:
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This is something I’ve mentioned in previous posts, but I basically second everything you said. I believe that Mammon dislikes getting into confrontations but isn’t by any means weak or stupid. He is the second eldest. However he is also, arguably, the one with the most self control out of them all. He has an overwhelming amount of patience when it comes to his siblings and I like to think he puts up with all of their insults because he loves them. Then again, it’s very possible for him to go berserk after years worth of build up.
Thanks for the request!!! I had a bit of trouble at first because I didn’t know how I was going to format it but I like the way it turned out so I hope you do too. Uhh also I reached my word limit writing this so I couldn’t include Simon, Luke and Solomon. I do plan on writing for them as well but at this point I’m just trying to get this done. Let me know if I made any grammatical errors! I double check my writing all the time but sometimes mistakes got over my head! The undateables are short because honestly I view the brothers as the ones who will suffer the most out of everyone. I hope you enjoy reading it anyway!!
•Characters: Lucifer, Leviathan, Satan, Asmodeus, Beelzebub, Belphagour, Diavolo, Barbatos.
⚠️Warnings: Cursing, mentions of blood & gore and that’s about it.
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For the past few months, Lord Diavolo’s pleasure of hosting parties and inviting people over had become more and more noticeable. It was pretty obvious that the Prince was lonely, isolating himself from others due to the responsibilities he has as the heir to the throne and a leader in the making. Attending his gatherings seemed like a down right chore for most of the brothers but you never had any problem tagging along. Besides, it felt nice knowing he seemed you worthy of coming to such important meetings. Your seven demons were, of course, also invited and per Lucifer’s orders, they all got cleaned up and dressed in fancy clothing to impress the regals prancing about the castle. Though the outfits themselves came with their own set of problems. Levi’s was way too tight; the collar seemed to annoy him more than anything else, judging by the patches of red skin on his neck. Satan accidentally ripped one of the buttons from his jacket off in a fit of rage earlier that day and was now silently fuming while poking his finger through the hole he made. Even Asmo spilled some water on his shirt before they arrived, ruining his pretty pink suit! Not to mention Beel was munching on his tie, having last eaten about 15 minutes beforehand. Lucifer pulled it out of his mouth and scowled at the saliva stains that were left behind. Safe to say they were all in a miserable mood to begin with.
“I expect all of you to behave in a respectable manner,” Lucifer flicked Belphie on the back of the head just as he began dozing off, making the youngest growl at him. He shot Mammon an irritated look “I’m especially talking to you Mammon. Don’t try to steal anything or I’ll cut your hands off.”
“I told ya big bro, ya don’t have to worry about me! I’ll be a golden child today! Promise!” Mammon held up his pinky as if he was committing to some kind of oath. The eldest darkened his glare and opened his mouth to say something else, but you interrupted in hopes of avoiding any bickering that might’ve followed.
“Look, there’s our table! Let’s go sit down. Lord Diavolo’s speech is going to start any minute now.”
Beel leaped at the table as soon as he sniffed out the appetisers, which were neatly arranged on the expensive tablecloth, shoving at least half of them in his mouth by the time the rest of you caught up with him. Having been seated, you quickly glanced around the room in hopes of spotting Diavolo. You bumped into Solomon and the angels before entering the castle, chit chatting with them for a while about the event. Even now, Luke was excitedly waving at you from across the room, using both of his arms. However, Lord Diavolo and Barbatos were the ones in charge of this party and you were yet to see either of them.
Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Mammon eyeing the golden utensils laid out in front of him. Not the biggest of surprises really. Anytime Mammon sees something along the lines of gold, he can’t help but snatch it away. And there’s obviously so many valuables scattered all over the place, including the silverware that was proudly presented on every table. You sucked in a breath of anticipation when he reached for one of the spoons, only to exhale in relief when he placed it on the bridge of his nose, trying to balance it.
“MC, look at this!” He tapped your shoulder, as always wanting your full and undivided attention as he demonstrated his newfound skill. You giggled at his antics with fondness as he accidentally let the spoon drop with a clatter and a quiet ‘shit’ coming from him. Lucifer pulled on his ear, like a mother scolding her child and whisper-yelled at him to stop acting like an idiot. The only reason the oldest chose a sit right next to Mammon was to maintain order and peace. Basically, he did it for disciplinary reasons.
“I understand that being impertinent is your full-time job, Mammon but keep this up and I’ll throw you in Cerberus’ room. Let him do with you as he pleases.”
“Lucifer, it’s not a big deal-“
“Yeah, OK,” Mammon hissed, picking up the spoon from the recently polished floor with a slight grin that didn’t quiet reach his eyes “I gotcha. Can-“
“Speaking of Cerberus,” Levi suddenly piped in, no longer fussing about his collar or nervously twiddling with his thumbs because of the massive crowd of demons surrounding him “Didn’t you force me to walk him last week when it was your turn to do it?? I only agreed because you promised to buy me the newest Ruri-Chan limited edition body pillow that came out last Tuesday! And you never did! And now they’re out of stock, you scummy piece of-“
The third eldest would’ve leapt across the table and aimed for the throat if you hadn’t pressed a gentle hand against his chest, making him sit back down with a huff. People were starting to stare at the commotion coming from your table, turning heads and muttering between themselves. You were slowly dying from embarrassment by the way, since you guys definitely became the topic of conversation for the other guests. The brothers were being too noisy to even notice and Lucifer himself was too preoccupied to see the scene they were creating which made you further slouch down into your chair, silently hoping for the ground to swallow you whole. The night really wasn’t going as intended. You could hear Solomon laughing at the brothers’ antics from three tables down.
“I guess that’s Mammon for you,” Belphie yawned, barely raising his head from table “He lies everyday, all day. What exactly is new here? And that says something since it’s coming from me.”
“I apologised for that!” Mammon whined, referring to Levi’s accusation and choosing not to address Belphie’s insult “I was gonna buy it but then I realised I spent all my money earlier that week anyway so I couldn’t!”
“Perhaps that wouldn’t happen if you learned how to save the money you earn properly,” Satan muttered, sipping from his glass of whatever beverage he had snatched from the servants earlier “Not like you know how to earn money in any way besides stealing it.”
You watch as Mammon clenched his fist “Can we please just move on-“
“I can’t believe that I was cursed with this moron for a brother,” Asmo sighed, almost theatrically, as if he was performing. And, in a way, he was. People were getting really interested in the drama unfolding over there. It was making you even more anxious, all those eyes staring at you. The Avatar of Lust was leaning so much on his chair, you were sure he was going to topple over and at this point, you kinda hoped he would. Anything to stop this momentum of hatred aimed at Mammon “You’re always getting us in trouble, you know. Hmph, we can’t go anywhere with you Mammon! You always end up ruining it for us! With your stupid schemes and-“
“I’m hungry-“
“Not now, Beel!”
“Cutting him up into tiny pieces for the witches will always be an option,” Lucifer chimed in, smiling at the thought.
Mammon snapped his head upwards at that. It was such an abrupt reaction, it made you jolt a little in your seat. You couldn’t miss the tension radiating from him, how quickly his body stiffened and exactly how hard his hands were gripping the edge of the table. His brothers were still paying him no mind, blaming him for this and that under their breath or being silently judgemental in Lucifer’s case. You worried for him because Mammon rarely acted like this; feral, in a way. Just so you know, he definitely noticed it. The look of concern plastered all over your face. That’s the only reason he released the table from his vice-like grip and slouched back against his chair. Satan went quiet and was staring at Mammon in bewilderment.
He disliked the idea of you watching him lose control of himself. He was your guardian. Your first pact. It’s important to him that your relationship is build around a pillar of trust. And he can’t even expect you to trust him if he exposes you to his demon form every time something inconveniences him. Mammon would rather cease to exit than have you fear him. So he kept his breathing regulated as the fog cleared his mind. The Avatar of Greed isn’t an angry demon. Snuffing out the the flame of rage he had fanned up until then was relatively easy. He just needed to get through tonight, then he could go home and complain to you about it once he got out of his brothers’ earshot.
“Why does he get to spend so much time with MC anyway? He’d probably sell them for a few Grimm any time of the day, wouldn’t he? It’s so fucking unfair. He won’t change no matter what so why risk MC’s safety? I will summon Lotan on him if he starts getting on my nerves.”
It would be an understatement to say that those words rubbed Mammon the wrong way, judging by the lack of immediate response. It was unexpected for him keep his mouth shut at a time like this. What was even more unexpected was the abrupt, delayed reaction he had a few seconds afterwards, resulting in his chair being flung back about 5 feet in that general direction. The seemingly deafening thud it made when it collided with the floor echoed around the dining hall, bouncing off walls and whacking people over the heads with the aggression behind it. A moment of pure, indescribably loud silence filled the crowded space as everyone else stared in shock at their brother, mouths agape and eyes bulging out of their sockets. Mammon would’ve laughed at their faces if it weren’t for the circumstances leading up to that point.
“What gives any of you the right to treat me like some sort of punching bag?” Mammon drawled, accentuating his obviously superior nature to almost every single demon at that table. He laughed, in an oddly half hearted way, before his sea struck gaze landed back to his siblings “Do not try to push me into a corner, because I will not handle it well. You’ve been having a field day with me for centuries now and I’m starting to get really ticked off, ya know? But that doesn’t matter. What matters is that I’ve done everything in my power to keep MC alive for the past few months and y’all are acting as if I’m out here playing with their life. Complain about me all you want. But...” He thumped the table, loud enough to make all the noblemen in the room flinch.
“Don’t you dare insinuate that I would ever put MC in danger, willingly or not because I will rip out your insides and paint the walls of this palace with them while hanging your intestines from these chandeliers. I will pluck your hairs out one by one, then your nails, then your eyeballs and then your teeth. You’re the ones that have put MC in danger’s way time and time again in the past few weeks, and you’re out here trying to suggest that I would even think about hurting them? Unlike every single one of you, who almost killed my human-you’re lucky I don’t have your fucking heads.”
He smashed his fist into the table again, using even more of his strength this time and effectively breaking the whole thing, the wooden legs giving out and shattering into thousands of splinters. Mammon spoke again, his voice lowering “MC forgave you. I didn’t. And I have no reason to. Not with how you’ve been treating me.”Once he spit that out, Mammon turned on his heel and left, slamming the door shut behind him hard enough to shake the whole building, leaving his siblings in dazed awe.
......
Even more silence. For some reason, all of the brothers at the now broken table ended up looking your way, silently questioning what they should do. It often ended up like this
You gave them all an unimpressed stare and a half-assed shrug “Don’t look at me. You guys fucked up.” Before sliding out of your seat and following Mammon out of the castle, sending an apologetic smile to Diavolo on your way out. Hopefully, you could manage to calm him down before everyone else gets home otherwise this might drag on for a while.
Lucifer:
-In all honesty, he probably saw the signs from a mile away and still decided to ignore them
-Maybe because he believed they weren’t being all that harsh on him, even if in Mammon’s eyes they were
-‘Harsh’ in Lucifer’s vocabulary usually means being hanged upside down from a ceiling or publicly executed, not a couple of mere insults
-Not to mention the eldest had always been horrible at communicating with his brothers when it came to emotions
-Despite Mammon clearly suffering from the treatment he received from his brothers, Lucifer refuses to believe he’s the root of the problem
-As the Avatar of Pride, he always had a hard time realising that all those words and the constant teasing, which he deemed to be pretty harmless, scarred Mammon a lot more than expected
-Once he actually comes to that conclusion, and after getting over the initial shock, Lucifer would probably feel the guiltiest out of them all
-Being the eldest means he carries quite a few burdens on his shoulders as most responsibilities fall on him due to his prideful nature
-He would blame himself for Mammon’s outburst simply because he’s the older brother and he should’ve known better, not just because he sees how a big of a role he played in all of this
-Usually, if his brothers do something bad, then he’s there to fix it within hours, that’s how it always worked
-Except he doesn’t know how to fix this exactly
-The problem is he has no idea how to approach Mammon after that sudden meltdown and he has no idea how to talk it out with him because he sucks at expressing himself verbally
-And since this took place in a public space, Lord Diavolo’s Palace no less, he felt really conflicted on what should have been done at that moment in time
-There was a lot of frustration, embarrassment and confusion in him for a good five minutes after Mammon slammed that door shut behind him and even after he gathered his thoughts together, he was still in shock for the rest of the night
-In any case, the whole event was promptly cancelled and everyone ended up going home earlier than expected, after Lucifer apologised to Diavolo about the spectacle they created (several times)
-When they finally get home, he decided to give Mammon his space instead of trying to knock at his door and instead went back to his room
-He knows they will need to solve this matter soon but there’s no way Mammon will want to see, let alone talk, to any of them just yet
-He’s sort of hoping he can apologise best he can next morning at breakfast, cross his fingers and wish for the best but judging by the venom that laced Mammon’s voice the night before, it’s not likely he will forgive any of them that easily.
Levi:
-If I were to guess, he saw the ending credits of his life flash before his very eyes as soon as those words left his mouth
-Levi felt a panic in him like never before, not even while playing his engaging horror visual novels at 3am in complete darkness or that one time he used Lucifer’s credit card to buy merch before being found out
-Must’ve forgotten his brother technically ranks higher than him on the power scale for a second there
-Or maybe he didn’t think his insults were going to affect him much
-They usually don’t
-Or at least that’s the impression he’s been under for a while now
-Mammon doesn’t snap easily under pressure but Levi must’ve really hit a nerve there that night
-While everyone was sitting in a short silence after Mammon left the building, he started twiddling with his fingers again the more he thought about it
-Because now he went from nervous to fucking terrified of what the hell was waiting for him when he finally got home
-He does feel guilty, nowhere near as much guilt as Lucifer feels but still pure shame
-However most of that guilt is swallowed by a steady fear and the constant worry of ‘how do I stop my brother from killing me?’
-Unlike Lucifer, I honestly don’t see him taking any sort of initiative when it comes to apologising to Mammon
-Not even because he doesn’t want to, but he would freeze up if he were to come face to face with him after that incident and then scamper back to his room like a rat in hiding
-So without your help, it’s likely the two won’t be speaking to each very soon which can honestly make life at the House of Lamentation so much more miserable
-In the end, if either you or Lucifer forced him to, he would say sorry by selling some of his merch and then giving him the profits (in secret but we all know it’s him)
-That is a big sacrifice on Levi’s part considering how precious his merchandise is to him
-But the idea that he’s gonna get murdered in his sleep by his older brother was getting a tad too real
-Besides, Mammon is still his brother and if he has to sell a couple of items in order to make him less mad, he would do it, albeit with a bit of grumbling
-Despite that, Mammon still refuses to come out of his room and sort of relies on you to bring him food because he doesn’t want to see his brothers
-Levi and Mammon would probably have to rebuild a lot of their relationship after this but it could easily take months for that to happen since Levi is too terrified to look him in the eye and Mammon is too upset to even hear his voice
Satan:
-He wouldn’t be the Avatar of Wrath if he couldn’t spot the anger within someone from a mile away
-He’s always been able to recognise the fury building up inside of him so for Satan it’s second nature to just know when someone’s on the brink of snapping
-It’s no surprise to say that he probably noticed Mammon’s wrath spilling out before anyone else did
-But alas, he realised it too late
-If he had reacted quicker, maybe he would’ve been able to diffuse Mammon before he exploded on them. Or not
-It’s difficult to tell if he could’ve actually helped because who was he to tell Mammon to calm down??? If anyone told him that while he was throwing a fit, he would probably break their necks-
-In the end, he just pressed his lips into a straight line and watched his brother throw his chair across the room
-Not gonna lie, he found it a bit entertaining purely because of the look on Lucifer’s face
-Satan had to try really hard not to crack a smile because he knew Mammon would probably smash a glass against his head or something
-Even so, he was the first to stand up and offer to go after him, though he wasn’t sure he could do much consoling
-Being so experienced with anger meant that he knew Mammon had built himself into a rage that he won’t be able to escape out of too easily
-Which is why he advises Lucifer to give Mammon his space once they get home
-Overall, the most understanding out of all of the brothers
-At this point in time, probably the least judgemental out of everyone and once Mammon comes out of his room for the first time in a while, either him or Beel is going to apologise to him first
-He may push and push him alongside the rest of his siblings but I feel like Satan doesn’t want to reach a certain low, like cornering Mammon into the frenzy he had that day ever again
-He might get pissy with him if he’s being too stubborn to forgive anyone after coming down from his intrusive thoughts
-And he really hates that Mammon had to remind them about all the times you had nearly died because of them, because he knows they won’t be able to make it up to you so why is Mammon upset about this????
-But he will try to maintain respect for his older brother from then on
-Even if the sharpest of remarks is on the top of his tongue!
Asmo:
-Asmo is the type to laugh it off and then start feeling really upset about it later on, the longer he thinks about the whole thing
-After Mammon storms out, he just assumes it’s another one of those ‘Mammon’ things and tried to brush the feeling of unease off him
-Even so, later that night the memory of Mammon kept coming back to him while he laid in his bed, unable to have a nice rest for the first time in how long? He’s always been really strict about his sleeping schedules after all
-Asmo’s observant, almost on par with Satan himself when it comes down to it. He definitely saw the gleam of anger, pent up frustration and hatred in his brothers’ eyes that moment and it legitimately scared him, even if it was for just half a second
-Honestly, he begins neglecting himself out of anticipation and worry which is a huge red flag for the Avatar of Lust who always holds himself at such a superior level compared to everyone else
-It may start out slow, but it has the same effect as a snowball rolling down the hill. It becomes more of a problem the longer it’s ignored
-Because he spends most of his days now debating whether he should try to coax his brother into coming out of his room and apologising to him, he forgets about himself
-Skincare routines are missed, pedicure appointments have been cancelled; hell, if Mammon’s keeps being stubborn, he may let his hair become absolutely filthy
-Asmo sort of relies on his brothers to provide the living environment he revolves around. If something is off with his brothers, he can not work properly either because it doesn’t feel right to do so
-Imagine a machine not working anymore because one of the clogs in it got stuck
-I can see Asmo feeling a decent amount of guilt when it comes to the situation but he still blames Levi for completely pushing him over the edge at dinner
-So now those two aren’t talking (it’s honestly so exhausting since they’re shoving the blame onto each other without stop)
-If Mammon decides to come out and hear them out, Asmo might get on his knees and beg because that guilt bubbling up inside of him may end up being his demise
-No seriously, MC might need to keep an eye out on him too while comforting Mammon because whatever he is doing isn’t healthy
-Takes Mammon’s outburst pretty badly and tries apologising to him many times but the second eldest still hasn’t said a word to any of them
-And that’s driving him into a fucking swirl of insanity at this point
-Of course, much like Mammon’s mental breakdown, this builds up over time but the result can be devasting
-If you pass by his room at night, you could probably hear him sob about how his brother hates him and it’s really heartbreaking to hear pained cries like that coming from such an overly confident demon like Asmo
Beel:
-Literally the only one here that doesn’t dish out insults onto Mammon every hour of the day
-He joins in very rarely and even when he does, it’s usually in good nature rather than malice
-Unless food is involved. Feelings (and Mammon) might be hurt if that’s the case
-Beel wasn’t listening to his siblings as they were diminishing Mammon, he was way too hungry to comprehend what the hell they were on about
-So he just started wolfing down appetisers until he noticed you looking all weary
-That’s the first thing that put him on alert
-And then the second born’s aura was also...off putting
-Might’ve actually tried to nudge Belphie to stop him from saying anything offensive to Mammon in this state when he realised how tense the atmosphere got
-Flinched when his brother left the palace, almost cracking the whole doorway on his way out
-Hunger is all but gone and at this point he wants to go home to check up on him
-Beel is a bit of a softie and he wears his heart on his sleeve a lot of the times
-He never did anything particularly bad to Mammon, not on the same scale his brothers did certainly and yet he still felt extremely bad
-Perhaps because he didn’t step in as much as he should’ve...?
-Either way, when his loved ones suffer, he has a tendency of putting the blame on himself because he feels it’s the only logical answer
-Honestly, he feels guilty enough to the point where it’s affecting his eating habits-which is obviously not normal for the Avatar of Gluttony
-Beel knows Mammon doesn’t want to talk to him but he still brings him food and leaves it at the doorstep of his room since he doesn’t want to come out and have dinner with them
-Or he relies on you to give it to him
-The thought of Mammon being so mad at them that he doesn’t even want to eat makes him feel so vulnerable
-As soon as he sees him for the first time since that night, he will probably be the first to apologise, even if Mammon isn’t in the mood to hear apologies
-Again, he’s trying to use food to make up to him (bringing him his favourites and paying for them)
-Even if he gets ignored, he’s still going to do it
-Beel is trying his best to say sorry to his older brother the only way he knows how to do so, but Mammon still doesn’t give in
Belphie:
-Could’ve been asleep the whole time Mammon was thrashing about
-Or at least that’s what it looked like to the average passer-by
-Kept one eye open to watch as Mammon finally snapped under pressure, having to raise his head once his brother broke the whole god damned table
-“OK, alright, storm off I guess-I have a splinter now-“
-Don’t trust that sarcastic commentary, he’s in deep thought on the inside
-Maybe he should’ve expected this but then again, he never would’ve guessed Mammon had it in him to be so aggressive
-Will narrow his eyes at him when he talks your death and scowl
-As if he didn’t already feel like the world’s biggest piece of shit, he had to bring that up
-As soon as he leaves, he turns to Lucifer and goes “See what you did? You broke Mammon. You suck, Lucifer.”
-The shifting of blame suits Belphie really well (it takes Beel side glancing him to get him to shut up)
-The Avatar of Sloth is too tired to even try to communicate with his brother so he goes straight to bed after getting home
-However, he actually visits Mammon’s dreams that night
-Or at least tries to, if Mammon is getting any sleep after that showdown
-It’s his way of checking in with his brother, helps him evaluate the situation
- Whether that works or not, there was definitely an attempt that required a lot of effort and you don’t see that very often with Belphagour
-It really demonstrates how much he actually cares for his family, even if he hides behind snide remarks and the likes of it
-However, if Mammon refuses communication, then he can’t do anything but give up
-He clearly won’t be able to convince him to step aside for a chit chat and why waste energy trying to force him to do so
-When the time comes, Belphie knows his brother will willingly talk to him (or at least someone else because he knows he’s not any good at comfort or apologies)
-At the same time, a lot of the things Mammon said during that party rubbed him the wrong way and seeing his twin suffer because of it is also pissing him off so patience may be running thin with Belphie
-Like Levi, there may be a lot of ice between the two from then onwards so it won’t be easy for them to find the middle ground in this whole argument either
-It could lead to a strained relationship if no one intervenes or even a physical fight if the youngest pushes all of Mammon’s buttons properly
Diavolo:
-The Future King feels guilty too, for some reason
-He is clearly not involved but he’s under the impression his party was a catalyst of sorts to the fight that broke out that night
-Diavolo wasn’t even in the same room when it happened-he heard shouting and growling from next door whilst talking to a noble about future arrangements in DevilDom and rushed in
-The sight was something to behold really; Mammon cornering all of his brothers and threatening them with pure venom in his voice wasn’t something you saw everyday
-More often than not, it was the other way around so the Prince had every right to be concerned
-He tried asking Lucifer what was going on after the second eldest slammed the door shut behind him and left but to no avail; the Avatar of Pride was in a state of shock and the only thing he did was apologise to him about a million times before his departure with the rest of his siblings
-Despite his worry, Diavolo tried not to get involved in the aftermath either, believing it’s not his place to interfere and hoping they would solve it out amongst themselves
-He did give Mammon permission to miss RAD classes for that week, thinking a small break is what he needed most
-Even drops by every now and then to check up on him (he just asks you how he’s holding up because he doesn’t want to pry)
-He can’t do much but watch from the sidelines, I mean this is a family dispute so it would be wise to just give them all a bit of space
-If it drags on for too long, however, he will be forced to do something because the brothers are all distracted and can’t get on with their student council work because of it
-Lucifer is even more stressed than usual and can’t even focus during their meetings so for the sake of his friend, if nothing gets resolved quickly, he will intervene and it won’t be pretty
-For now, he’s counting on you to make sure there are no further incidents but it’s unlikely you can stop a train once it’s set in motion so just hope Mammon doesn’t come out of his room until he’s calmed down
Barbatos:
-The butler is a Time Lord so it’s probably no surprise to find out he already knew this was going to happen eventually
-Not like he believed Mammon was going to take his brothers’ insults for much longer anyway
-Being the quiet and observant demon he is, he’s been keeping a close eye on the Avatar of Greed knowing damn well he was going to lose his patience soon enough and go on the offence
-If he knew this was going to happen at such an important moment in time, he would’ve warned his majesty beforehand but he failed to see the potential catastrophe awaiting his breakdown
-Again, he has no right to intervene
-Unless, of course, Lord Diavolo asks him to do so but really the most he can do is give you tips on how to deal with miserable demons
-I mean, you’re the one that’s going to be stuck with them for the rest of the year and this isn’t the type of conflict that gets resolved too easily
-Barbatos is clever so if there is still bitterness between Mammon and his siblings after an amount of time passed, he might try to change timelines (with the permission of Diavolo)
-He’s had enough of Beel coming over to eat his cakes and cry about his older brother hating him (believe it or not, the butler is definitely a bit fond of the sixth eldest so his cries did pull at his heartstrings)
-Basically, in the same position as the Prince
-He relies on you to get them all to make up but he knows it’s not likely to happen any time soon
-For now, he’s getting ready for the chain reaction this fight set in motion because there was no easy way to end this, considering they’re all vicious demons and all
—————————————————————-
Al~ im mad I couldn’t add Simon, Luke and Solomon-I want to write for them too >:(
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libraford · 4 years
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The short version: We had a serial thief at the flower shop. She’s retired recently and I think that due to Covid she really means it this time. 
The long version? hoooo boy, here we go.
This story, and others, are viewable on Tablo
There are rules and there are rules.
In dealing with shoplifting in retail, there are rules on how one engages with a thief. The handbook, if there were one, would consist of a single word. 
Don't. 
Don't pursue, don't interrogate, don't accuse. Let them take the merchandise, let them get away. Let them return the Cricut machine for an equivalent amount on a gift card to be exchanged once again for drugs. 
Let them. 
There is no handbook on how to handle Flower Thieves. Prior to working in a flower shop, I never thought that this was a problem. 
Life is surprising. 
 I'm sure some of you have figured that out by now. 
The Flower Thief is notorious, and she has a system. There are days when you simply know that she's going to be in. 
"Break the heads off the flowers before you throw them away," Grandpa will say. "She's going to be here tonight, I think." 
And sure enough, she would be. At 6:45, a quarter til we close- the Thief would announce her arrival. Loudly. 
"Heeeeey, baaaaaaby!" 
The very first time I encountered the Flower Thief, she came in through the back door. 
"Oh Hiiiii, Darlin'- ain't seen your face around here: you must be NEW! I'm Wren, you know- like the bird? Well, Kyle and I have an agreement that I come and work for y'all sometimes. You should take out this trash, it stinks to high heaven. Anyways, nice talkin' to ya, see ya later." 
I may only be a little bit psychic, but I've spent enough time around liars to know insincerity when I see it. Kyle, at the time, was the manager of our store and I have it on record that he's tried to throw her out of the building once or twice. 
While I was taking out the trash, her pile of purchase became so tall it towered over her. I watched Clark massively undercharge her for the sake of getting her to go away. 
She has a pattern.
She comes in during the design classes because she knows that when there's twenty people in the store, there's not enough people to watch her and make sure she's not stealing. "There's a class today," she asks as if it's not literally every Tuesday. "Don't worry I know you all wanna get out of here on time." 
The Flower Thief announces her presence in a grand way and then makes her way to the back to grab a trash bag or an empty box and then proceeds to bury any spare parts she finds in the cooler in the trash bag, hiding them under the things that she's actually buying. 
After that, she checks the garbage cans for things we might have thrown away that will last another three days and stuffs them underneath her other ill-gotten goods. 
Just when you think she's finished, she'll go through her pile of flowers and say: "You know what? I don't need this eucalyptus." And she'll go back into the cooler with it, stuff it in her purse, and walk back to the register. 
And when she's all done being sneaky, she asks one of us to come ring her out. 
This is the part that no one wants to do. Because ringing out the Flower Thief means haggling with the Flower Thief. 
"Oh baaby, you know I don't pay those prices." 
"Oh baaaby, I only pay $19 for roses." 
"Oh baaaaaaaaaby, those carnations were on special." 
She'll talk you down to under $100 with a sob story: 
"Oh baaaaby, you know I'm donating this spray to the family. It's for that woman you know- you know the one. She got herself murdered a couple nights ago? Two children and she was pregnant too! Pregnant! Can you believe it? Who murders someone with child? What's the world coming to? So I need a good discount to make sure we treat this family right because they got a looooong road ahead of them." 
"Oh baaaaaaby, you know this one's for that car crash over on Cleveland Avenue? I hear he was taking care of his dying father himself, so it's such a shame for him to go first like that." 
"Oh baaaaaaaaaaaaaaby, this is for that little boy that shot himself, isn't that sad?" 
Thank you, Sister Mary Loquacious. 
And you nod because you don't want to come off as an uncaring sociopath. And while you're nodding and adjusting the price for her sad, sad consequence and mulling over how good she is for donating to these people in their time of need, she steals some greens from the trash can and sticks them in her bag. 
She hands you crisp $100 bills. You check them and she makes jokes about how she printed them this morning. They're legit. Counterfeiting isn't why she went to prison. 
What she went to prison for was drug trafficking. 
"Do you need some help," you ask, trying to be a good citizen. 
"Oh no, I got it," she insists. "I'll make it in two trips. I'm stronger than I look!" 
And don't you dare get caught looking to see what she put in the bag or she will give you one hell of a lecture. 
By the time all of this has passed, the class will be over and there will two minutes left in the work day. She's spent thirty-seven minutes in the store. Your register is unbalanced because now you don't have enough small bills to balance it and only have one $100 bill to get you through tomorrow. 
And that's why there are rules. 
On occasion, a new person will break the rules not knowing that there's rules. One such occasion was when Clair decided to be helpful. 
"You know what? I don't need this eucalyptus," Wren said. 
"Oh! I'll put it back for you," Clair suggested. And before Wren could protest, it was out of Wren's hands and nowhere near her purse. 
It was mentioned to Sage, who only worked for us one summer, that Wren had failed to pay for something and she immediately chased her out into the street. 
Wren drives very fast. 
If you cross her too many times, she'll make sure you never forget it. One day, she stomped her way in through the front door, angry. 
"You ain't treated me better than a damn THIEF," screamed the Flower Thief. 
Grandpa, who was helping Blue make a wedding bouquet at the time, departed from the desk. "Beg pardon?"
"A thief! You been treating me like a thief ever since they made you manager and I'm sick of it! I see you bringing in your henchmen, following me in the cooler, chasing me down the street. Treat me with some damn respect." 
Words were exchanged. They were not kind. We thought we'd seen the end of her. 
But she was back one week later, doing the same damn thing. 
So now there are rules. 
If you make something and there's an excess of flowers left over from the pack, you have to make something out of the leftovers or she'll pick through them and stuff them in her bag. 
If you cannot make something out of them, you must throw them out. 
If you throw them out, you must break the heads off first. 
The trash cans must be emptied every night before 5:00. 
We do not keep trash bags in plain sight. 
Break down all empty boxes, or she will use them in place of trash bags. 
Do not leave any food or drink where she can find it. 
Do not leave any half-used rolls of floral tape where she can find it. 
Do not let her know anything about you- lest she use it against you. 
If you speak of a Thief, you summon a Thief- speak quietly, and never her name or you invite trouble. 
The basic rules one makes when dealing with pests. Or fairy-folk.
There are rules and there are rules and there are rules. 
If you want to keep a pest away, you make these sorts of rules. But if you want to get rid of a pest indefinitely, you have to remove their food source. And Wren's food source was her discount. 
You start exercising your right to say 'no' to a customer in small ways. 
She saw a bunch of carnations in the trash and said: 
"Oh baby, these are still good! I'll take them off your hands for you!" 
"They've been sitting without water for hours." 
"They're still good!" 
"They were out in the sun." 
"Oh baby, I've been working with flowers for 40 years and I know that these will still be fine for a couple of days!" She picks a bunch of them out of the trash and shoves it in my face. "See, it's still stiff- it's still good!" 
"Okay," I said. And before I could stop myself: "Full price."
Her eyes just about popped out of her skull. If it were just a little bit colder, I would have been able to see steam coming out of her ears. 
We stared at each other for about a minute, waiting for the other to flinch. She took the bunch away from my face and threw them back into the trash. While she was in the cooler, I took the liberty of snapping the heads off of them and burying them further into the garbage. 
And so began a war between the flower shop and the Flower Thief.
She came in: every single night. And each night, she got me. 
Again.
"Oh no, baby! These carns are supposed to be 39 cents a stem. I can bring up the email." 
"Sure." She brings up the email. "I see that they are 39 cents but... this was for Saturday." 
"Yea, and I bought those carns on Saturday and you charged me full price!" 
"Saturday." 
"Yeah." 
"You didn't buy these on Saturday. You bought them Friday." 
"Well I didn't know that they'd be on sale, so I need them for that price because I didn't know they'd be on sale." 
"The sales are one-day only. I can't adjust a sale from Friday to reflect Saturday's sale... on Sunday." 
She made a noise that reminds me somewhat of a cement mixer. 
 And again.
"I got a bad banner last time, can you print me a new one?" She shows me the banner in question. It's white. The 't' and the 'h' in 'mother' ran together. 
"Sure." 
"Okay, I need it to say 'Beloved Mother' and I want it in pink." 
"Sure." 
I print it. I ring her up $5. 
"Oh baaaaaaby, no, that one should be free." 
"Grandpa said- banners start at $5." 
"Oh, but you sold me a bad one last time." 
"We haven't sold you a banner in three weeks. How long have y'all had that body sitting in your cooler?" 
She grumbled, and paid. 
 And again. 
"I swear you been workin' every night this week! You must be tired," she said, nerves plain in her voice. "When do you get a day off?" 
"When the work is done." 
"That ain't what I'm askin'. When's your next day off, baby?"
"I stop working when the work is done, Wren." 
She narrows her eyes, which is a fun change from them bugging out of her skull like a fruit fly. "You don't ever get any days off?" 
"When the work stops, I rest."
 And again. 
"I'll be in and out, I know y'all want to get out of here on time," she said- announcing her presence to the entire class. She piled her stuff across the register counter and Grandpa began ringing her up. 
"Oh baby..." 
"No. We're doing away with the discounts." 
There are twenty people in the workshop for the class and Grandpa doesn't want to make a scene. She pulls her into the back, and I choose to make my instructions louder to mask the sound of them yelling. 
"So you're going to take your hypericum berries and you're going to cut the stem to about ten inches-" 
"How can you do this to me?" 
"And you're going to slowly fill the vase with these berries to kind of set the shape of the arrangement." 
"After all these years and this is how you treat me?" 
"Fun fact- you might know hypericum berries as their more common name: St John's Wort! St. John's Wort has been used as a medication for depression prior to modern medicine." You see- I, too, have taken notes from the Chattering Order.
"You can't do this to me," Wren said, stamping her feet like a toddler.
"But I wouldn't recommend eating them. However, they do smell somewhat like baked brown sugar." 
Stamp, stamp, stamp. 
Wren threw herself into the cooler and began putting a bulk of her flowers back. 
"This is robbery," I heard her say to Grandpa at the register. 
"Is it now?" 
 And again. 
She came in and immediately reached for a half-empty box of oasis bricks (the green sponge material that we use to hold flowers.) She said few words to me, few at all. She talked to Carrie about how she was going out to the country for awhile, to take care of her nephew's property. She needed to stock up. And oh- don't worry about it, she knows what she's doing. She's part of The Family.
She is in no manner of speaking, a member of The Family that owns this shop. Not even a third cousin. 
I saw her beeline for a rose I'd set in the trash. I picked it up, opened my mouth, and bit the head off of it. She stood in the middle of the workshop, absolutely stunned. 
Rose petals have the vague texture of arugula, by the way. Slightly sweeter, though. Tough to swallow in one go. 
She ran back into the cooler and didn't talk to me. 
I began taking down numbers. 
27 bricks of oasis. One pack of roses. Ten calla lilies. 1/2 pack of assorted greens. 
I punched the numbers in to the register. As if sensing something was amiss, she emerged from the cooler. 
"$54? What do I have that's $54?" 
"The oasis. They're $2 each." 
"Oh no baaaaaby, they're $1." 
"I can text Grandpa and ask her." 
"... that won't be necessary. Why are you charging me $22.50 for roses? You know my prices by now!" 
"22.50 is the price for a pack of roses." 
"22.50 is everybody prices." 
"Welcome to 'everybody.'" 
"I ain't paid a price increase in 7 years!" 
"The price of milk went up, Wren. So does everything else." 
She was seeing red, I knew it. There's a vein in her forehead that pops out when she's angry and it's the same shape as the river that runs through my home town. She sized me up, as if wondering if she could take me. 
I'm 256 pounds of 4H beef, and I have a knife. Try me. 
"I'm gonna call Kyle on this." 
"Do it." A lifetime of retail has made me immune to 'I'd like to speak to the manager.' 
She grumbled and put things back. Carrie offered to watch her, I held up my hand. 
"Can you do something for me  on these carns? They're the last pack in there and they're lookin' kinda ratty." 
"9.50." 
"9.50's the regular price." 
"Regular price is $14." 
"No it ain't." 
"Is today. You're taking our last pack and we need those for funerals." 
She put them back. 
She gave me a credit card. It seemed fake, but it ran. Every time I see here, she's got a different card. Did she print this one this morning, too? At least she stopped trying to sell me on Bitcoin. As you can see, it made her incredibly wealthy. 
She gathered her things and left. "Guess I'm getting the rest of my flowers from KROGER!" 
There are things you want to say. Like... I hope they enjoy your company just as much as we do. Or: Haven't graced them with your presence in awhile, huh? But at the time, it was better just to watch her leave with her minuscule bunch of flowers. I get a choice in where I loan my voice. 
Not here. 
Is it over? Nah. She'll be back for another round. But one day she'll finally retire in the way that she's always threatened to. And then? Then it can be as over as it ever will be. 
It is shocking to come from a history of retail, where you're not allowed to even hint at the idea of a customer being wrong, where you have to override every single price change to get the scores up, where you have to just let them steal your things and pull the wool over your eyes... 
... to flat-out telling someone 'no.' 
"No." 
It's such a great word. 
There are rules and there are rules. 
And there are thieves that the rules are made for. 
And there are words like 'no.' 
And all those things are magic in very human ways. 
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taestefully-in-luv · 3 years
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Always You | JJK (Six)
Summary: you and Jungkook have been best friends since freshmen year of college, there’s a lot of unsaid feelings and tension but neither make a move. what happens when his friend Taehyung (also your crush) needs a fake girlfriend?
Pairing: Jungkook x Female reader, slight Taehyung x Reader
Genre: friends to lovers, idiots to lovers, slight slow burn, roommate au, college au, SMUT (starting ch2), fluff, angst (in later chapters) slight crack, lots of drama
Word Count: 18.3k
Warnings: Swearing, alcohol consumption, sexual tension (!!!), mention of drugs, mention of threesomes, mention of erection, grinding in sleep, car sex, riding, heated make out, hickeys, light hair pulling, light spanking
Notes: Not entirely sure how I feel about this chapter to be honest but here it is regardless! I hope you guys enjoy it:) ALSO those teaser pics from today!!! Anyway feel free to send an ask if you want to be added to the taglist or just want to chat about the story:)
Taglist: @mooniyooni @thisartemisnevermisses @giadalin @kookiebunny097 @cosmosjk @moonchild1 @just-jeon @anpanman-sonyeondan @starlight-night0 @yessii-i @apollukee @mikasaredscarf1 @kaye-rosales @bunnyjeonjk @dyriddle @seagulljk @hass-mich-los @peachy-skz0325 @wonusbitch @not-your-lion @flowersgirl02 @justinetingball @fiantomartell
© taestefully-in-luv
Previous---Next
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The week drags on slowly and horribly, Monday you had a raging migraine that just wouldn’t go away. Tuesday you were late for your job and were scolded for it. Wednesday you spilled your black coffee all over your white blouse. And today, Thursday, you started your period. This week could not get any worse. Oh wait, yes it can—you just remembered you promised Jungkook you would attend his get together.
You hope things won’t be awkward with Nick…Jungkook has assured you that things are cool and Nick isn’t mad about what happened.
Jungkook 5:15pm
Hey :) so, I was thinking you could bring that 16% wine we always drink?
Jungkook 5:50pm
It starts at 7 but you can come earlier if you want
Jungkook 6:00pm
Or you don’t have to,..it was just a suggestion.
Y/N 6:02pm
I’ll be there at 7.
Jungkook 6:02pm
Ok cool :) I can’t wait to hang out.
You click your phone off, groaning into your pillow. Your cramps are fucking killer and you want to die. You look to your nightstand to see your water and pain killers, you reach for them and swallow them down. Hopefully this helps.
You decide to start getting ready, you settle on some jeans and your favorite striped sweater. Like, who are you trying to impress?
You hear your phone buzzing from your bed and you hurry to answer it.
“Hello?”
“I’m outside whore.”
“Kay be out in a sec.”
You hang up your phone, stuffing it in your back pocket. You gather your things and do one last look in the mirror—casual but cute.
“Holly! They’re here!”
You two rush down to the parking lot where Jimin is parked, Trina and Holly sit in the backseat while you occupy the passenger seat.
“You ready?” Jimin smirks.
~~~~~~
Before you know it, Jimin is knocking on Jungkook and Nick’s front door.
“By the way, I still can’t believe you didn’t who nick was…”
“I never come over here! Jungkook usually comes to mine…” Jimin answers in pout.
The door swings open and there stands Nick, in all his hot glory.
“Hey Nick…” you say, avoiding eye contact but Nick is chipper as can be as he nods at you and everyone else.
“Hey Jungkook! y/n is here!” he calls behind him.
“I mean, we’re here too but go off I guess.” Jimin’s mutters from beside you.
The four of you walk into the apartment, Jungkook still nowhere to be seen.
The small place is filled with maybe 5 other people, you are quick to nod at everyone in greeting. You catch Jungkook leaving his bedroom with Vanessa following closely behind him, you can’t help but roll your eyes. Jungkook finds you staring at him and he grins, walking closer to you and your friends.
“y/n!” he goes in for a quick, unexpected hug.
“Hi.”
“Jimin!” he hugs Jimin too, “and Hey Tr—”
“Go fuck yourself.”
“Yup, nice to see you too Trina.” Jungkook smiles anyway, “And you must be Holly?” he extends his hand out for her to shake. She takes it while smiling awkwardly.
“I’m glad you guys came!” Jungkook scratches the back of his head, “This is uh, this is Vanessa.” He introduces the girl standing beside him.
Vanessa is pretty…really pretty actually. She has short black hair, it looks soft and sleek. She is taller than you, her height almost rivaling Jungkook’s. But she is still smaller than him.
“Hi everyone.” She says flatly.
She doesn’t look interested in meeting any of you, or interested in any of the people here. She grabs her phone from her bag and starts scrolling through it as Jimin introduces everyone.
“And this is y/n.” he finally finishes, gesturing towards you.
At this, Vanessa looks up from her phone to eye you up and down, “Right.” Is all she says, then her eyes are back on her screen.
Wow, quite the charmer. You look at Jungkook whose eyes are already on you, and he chuckles nervously.
“Well, did you bring that wine?” he asks you.
You pull it from the bag you are holding and hand it to him, “Here…” his hand goes to reach it and his fingers brush against yours and you shudder.
“Umm, I’ll pour us all a glass.” He takes the bottle, faces Vanessa and heads toward the kitchen while Vanessa follows him. You watch as they disappear into the other room and you release a breath.
“That’s the bitch he’s fucking?” Trina asks bluntly, one eyebrow raised in question. “She didn’t even look at us!”
“Let’s be nice,” Holly says.
“Fucking fine.” Trina rolls her eyes. Hard.
You can’t help but agree though, Vanessa seems…you don’t know, but why would Jungkook like her? She seems rude, and uninterested in literally everything.
“You’re never going to get over her like this, you know?” Vanessa continues to look at her screen as she speaks to Jungkook. “You’re just hurting yourself.” Her eyes dart towards her glass being poured, “I don’t even like this wine, I told you I wanted the other one.”
“It’s y/n’s favorite.” He exhales deeply as he pours more glasses.
“Oh right, so is this how it’s going to be?” Vanessa clicks her phone off and slides it in her purse, “Now that she’s back in your life everything is going to be about her?”
“No, Vanessa…” he looks up from the bottle, “We’re still…” he gestures between their bodies.
“Right.” She says, tapping her fingers against the counter, “Totally.”
“So what game shall we play?” Jungkook sits down between you and Vanessa, his body vibrating in excitement. (How you and Vanessa ended up sitting next to each other in the first place? You don’t know. But thankfully Jungkook saves the day.)
“How bout never have I ever!” Jimin winks at everyone, “It’s always a good way to get to know new people.”
“Fine.” Trina says with a smirk
“Yeah, I’m down!” Nick says, high fiving his same bro who believes in aliens.
Various ‘yes’s are heard around the room and you nod your head too.
“If you’ve done it, you drink, that’s the rule.” Jimin states “I’ll go first. Never have I ever done coke.”
A few people you aren’t well acquainted with groan and take a sip of their drinks, Jimin looks at you as he passes his turn.
“Uh,” you look up at the ceiling, “Never have I ever had a threesome.”
You notice every single one of your friends taking a drink, Jungkook included. Well, you shouldn’t be surprised. Damn, even Holly? Are you just lame?
Jungkook goes next, “Never have I ever ate ass!” Jimin raises his glass and he take a gulp.
Everyone’s laughing and having a good time, the game continues on for several rounds, everyone drinking at different times but everyone collectively getting drunker.
The turn is back on you…”Never have I ever cheated on a college exam.”
“Fucking liar!” Jungkook snickers beside you, “You copied like half my answers in bio!”
“Oh true.” You say nonchalantly, “Never mind. Jungkook your turn.”
Jungkook thinks for a few moments, “Never have I ever not made a girl come.” He smirks.
“Okay ladies man, we get it, fucking whore.” Jimin sticks his tongue out.
Next is Vanessa’s turn, she tilts her head side to side thinking on what she wants to say.
“Never have I ever had sex with my best friend.” She says, her voice smooth and silky.
You choke on your spit when you process her words, your head snaps to Jungkook’s. He’s already looking at you, debating if he should drink—especially in front of all your friends.
He watches in horror as you begin to raise the glass to your lips, your eyes never leaving his. He raises his own glass to his mouth and takes a sip as you do the same and the room goes quiet.
Jimin watches the two of you, his eyes widening in shock as he puts two and two together.
“Wait wait wait.” Trina speaks up, “Did you two…?” she looks between you two before her eyes settle on you, “When?”
“Yeah, when?” Jimin asks quietly, sounding betrayed.
“Can we not do this right now?” you plead.
Jungkook is nodding his head in agreeance, “Yeah guys….this is a bit…” he glances over at Vanessa who is quietly sipping her wine, she blinks at Jungkook a few times before taking another sip.
“So you two have fucked!” Nick says, totally oblivious. Fucking Nick.
“It was a really long time ago, it meant nothing…” you save while striking a chord in Jungkook, he clenches his jaw. “Well, it meant nothing for only some of us,” he grits out. You feel a pang in your chest. What does he mean by that?
“Okay, would if we all take a moment to relax…” Holly intervenes. She stands up, taking her glass and Trina’s glass to the kitchen.
“It’s getting late anyway.” You stand too, you look at Trina and Jimin with apologetic eyes and nod towards the door, “Let’s get going.”
“Wait y/n,” Jungkook stands up as well, grabbing on to your arm. “Can we talk for a moment?” he motions towards the balcony. “Please.”
You roll your eyes but go along with it, you follow him out the back on to the balcony. It’s a small space, forcing you to stand somewhat close to Jungkook.
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that last thing…” he begins, “You were just trying to save the conversation….right?”
“Right.” You agree. You fold your arms over your chest, you want this day to be over with.
“Other than this last bit…I had a lot of fun…you know…everyone hanging out. It was nice,” Jungkook shakes his head a bit, his hair falling all over his face, covering his big doe eyes. You can’t help but reach up and tuck some wild strands away so you could see him properly.
He freezes when you do that.
“Oh sorry…habit.”
“No no its okay, I was just surprised is all.” He smiles, and you feel your heart glow.
“Vanessa seems…” you don’t know why you bring her up right now but you do.
“Nice.”
Jungkook bites down on his bottom lip, looking at you with serious eyes,
“You don’t like her.”
He chuckles lightly, “I still know when you’re lying.”
“Sorry,” you laugh into your palm, “She just doesn’t seem all that interested in anyone.”
“Including me?”
“Kind of…sorry.” You look up at him, “It’s none of my business.”
“Well, you’re my friend so I value your opinion.”
“Okay then…I just can’t seem to find what you might like about her…” Your honest nature isn’t something Jungkook isn’t use to, but he still feels defensive.
“Well, you don’t know her.”
“Do you?”
He opens his mouth to answer but falls short of a response. He stuffs his hands into his front pockets of his jeans and lets out a small groan.
“Can we go one day without fighting?” he whispers.
“Sorry.” You offer a half ass apology. “Jimin and the rest are probably waiting for me so—”
“Wait…” he grabs your wrist and pulls you closer to him, “Can I hug you? Since I have to ask now.”
“If I say no?”
“Then I will probably cry myself to sleep.”
“Well, we can’t have that can we?”
“So that’s a yes?”
You look up into Jungkook’s endearing eyes and nod your head yes, he doesn’t waste another second before he’s wrapping his arms around you and engulfing you in a sweet embrace. He smells like his laundry detergent and his natural scent, the combo making you dizzy—as usual. You finally return the hug, your own arms circling around his waist. You feel him inhale you and you can’t help but do the same…you missed this. You missed his touch—his warmth. You missed him.
“I missed you too.”
Oh, did you say that out loud?
“Yes you did.” He chuckles into your neck. his hot breath hitting your skin making you shudder.
“I missed you so much.” He whispers into your hair, his words almost getting lost in your locks.
“Then why did you replace me so quickly?” you whisper into his chest, you feel his heart beat faster than before.
“I don’t like her, Jungkook.” You admit.
“Please just give her a chance…for me, please.” He exhales into your neck before nuzzling further.
“Do you like her?” you brace yourself for the answer, you grip on to his shirt, bunching up the material in your hands.
“Yes.” He tightens his hold on you, “but, it’s complicated.”
You pull back from him, “Wait…you really do like her? Oh…” you drop your arms from his body.
“y/n…This is hard for me. She’s the only thing distracting me from…” he gulps, “Things.”
You take a step back, confused.
“Things?” you scoff, “What aren’t you telling me Jungkook?”
“Don’t worry about it.” He whispers, his hands still rest on your waist. He pulls you closer again, “I’m working on it.” He looks into your eyes and you can’t help but stare at his lips as he licks them.
“How hard are you working on it?” you wrap your hands around his middle again, stepping closer to him.
“I don’t…know…” he breathes out erratically. His eye becoming half lidded as he stares down at you, “I….dont …know….” He repeats in a daze.
Your hands travel up his back until your grabbing on to his hair, using this to tilt his head down gently.
“You’ll tell me eventually, won’t you?” you angle your head upwards, he slowly begins to lean down, his eyes shutting as he leans in closer and closer. You part your lips slightly waiting in anticipation for his lips to find yours.
“You’re so fucking unfair…” You feel Jungkook’s whisper hit your lips as he begins closing the distance.
Then the door fucking opens, you and Jungkook jumping apart at the sudden intrusion.
“y/n are you ready?” Jimin looks between you two, he eyes you suspiciously before looking at you expectantly.
“Right, yeah.” You look at Jungkook who is as red as a fucking cherry. He scratches his head with one hand and uses to the other to usher you inside. Were you and Jungkook about to…? Holy shit. What has gotten into you?
Before you go inside you turn around to face him, “Maybe we can talk about this later?”
“Uh, maybe.” Jungkook looks at the floor as you speak to him, he sways from one foot to another. “See you later y/n.”
~~~~
“Fucking spill it.” Trina spits out once you four are in the car. She aggressively puts on her seatbelt as Jimin turns on the car but refuses to drive anywhere until you talk.
“Can this wait til we’re home?” you whine, putting on your own seatbelt.
“I agree with y/n, Trina. Let’s wait…” Holly’s troubled smile begs Jimin to drive you all home back to your place.
Jimin is silent as he puts the car in reverse and begins driving. Just complete silence coming from him, which is more worrisome than him yelling at you.
The drive is mostly quiet, you can tell Trina is really forcing herself to keep it down while Holly has a death grip on her thigh. You want to laugh at their dynamic but you don’t think anyone is in the mood to laugh right now.
Once home, you drag out one of the chairs at the breakfast table and plop down, taking a seat. Your three friends follow your lead, each taking a seat at the table.
“Guys…do we really have to do this…?” you fold your hands out in front of you on top of the table.
“If it’s really that hard to talk about, no. But I would like it if we did…” Trina tries to say calmly.
You chew on your lips—your usual bad habit as you think. Do you tell them everything? About that night? Your true intentions? It’s silent for a while until Jimin quietly clears his throat.
“Neither of you told me…my best friends…” he stares down at the table top.
“When?” he whispers.
You stare at Jimin, who sits across from you and you feel your heart break just a bit. He looks and sounds so betrayed.
“Freshmen year. New Year’s Eve party.” You finally say.
Trina’s eyes expand, realization hitting her.
“Wait wait wait.” She throws her hands up, “New Year’s Eve party? The night you were going to….?”
You only nod your head yes, feeling fucking embarrassed.
“Going to what?” Jimin asks.
“Nothing!” You and Trina say at the same time.
“Really guys?” Jimin looks down at his hands, a frown taking over his face. “Is that how we’re going to be?”
You do feel bad but are you ready for Jimin to know? One look at his sad face and you guess the answer is yes.
“That night I was going to…” you begin, the memory of that night coming back to you.
Tonight is the night. It’s New Year’s Eve and you’re going to do it. Maybe it’s this glass of wine that’s giving you courage—liquid courage—but you feel like tonight is a good as any.
Jungkook promised you no girls tonight…that tonight is between two best friends with no interruptions. And you believe him, of course. In the months you have known Jungkook he has always kept his word to you.
You lean back in your rolling chair, bringing the glass of wine to your lips and you take a generous sip…yes, tonight you are going to do it. You are going to confess to Jungkook.
“What’s got you so nervous tonight?” Trina asks as she applies her dark lipstick to her thick lips. Trina and you are getting ready in your dorm for the long awaited New Year’s Eve party and she can tell something is weird about you. You keep rubbing your sweaty hands down your black skirt, you keep patting your sweaty forehead dry with one of your t shirts, you keep looking in the mirror and taking much needed deep breaths. You are obvious. So fucking obvious.
“I could be wrong but it looks like you’re worried about a dead body you’re trying to hide…” Trina’s hand stops mid lipstick application as she glances at you, “bitch, you know I will help you.”
You can’t help but laugh, easing some of the nerves.
“No, nothing like that…” you know Trina knows. She’s had her assumptions but she never lets the subject linger…she basically is a bad bitch who minds her business…unlike someone you know—Jimin. Who ALWAYS has some shit to say about you and Jungkook, he on the other hand is a messy bitch who does NOT mind his business.
“It’s about…” you struggle to complete your sentence as you gulp down more wine.
“You don’t have to say…I know. Just know that no matter what, I am on your side.” Trina goes back to applying another layer of lipstick, “Especially if you have to hide a body.”
“Sometimes I wonder about you.” You say flatly.
Trina only laughs that loud ass laugh you love so much. “You wonder about me?” she winks.
It’s your turn to apply your own lipstick to your lips, a nice soothing red when you receive a text from Jimin that he and Jungkook are on their way to the party.
“I hope Stephanie is going to be there tonight…” Trina mumbles underneath her breath, “if not, this outfit is a complete waste” You giggle as you continue to apply your lipstick. You check your phone again to see another text that they’re there,
“Shit, we gotta get going!” You drop your lipstick in your bag and a few other essentials.
Trina raises a brow at you, “Are you trying to rush me?” she looks amused. “You can’t rush perfection.” she threads her fingers through her bouncy hair, “Lucky for you, I am done! And also, always perfect.”
“Yes yes miss perfect, we get it. Let’s go!”
The party is without a doubt: booming. The amount of decorations and alcohol and people is impressive. This is surely about to be a party worth remembering—and you hope you do. You decide to only sip a few beers—wanting to stay at least a little bit sober when you confess and you hope Jungkook isn’t completely shit faced either. Speaking of, where is he? Your eyes scan the crowd, you see Jimin surrounded by a group of people, laughing his head off. You see Trina grinding on some girl…maybe Stephanie? And you see Jungkook on the other side of the living room, sipping on his drink while some girl talks to him. But his eyes are on you. You crack an awkward smile and he turns to face the girl that is trying so hard to talk to him. He says a few words to her and is quickly leaving her side, he is now walking towards you. You can’t help but feel nervous as he approaches you…tonight’s the night, you keep reminding yourself.
You never not liked Jungkook…If you weren’t so shy maybe you would have slept with him the first night you met him… but instead you became friends and that was without a doubt the best thing that could of happened for you two. But in the back of your mind you always wanted more. Something always tugged at your hands, begging you and pulling you in the direction of more with Jungkook. But he seems fine with the friendship…so much so that you thought that maybe pursuing him would be best if you pushed it to the side.
Unfortunately for you, you just couldn’t take it anymore. Your feelings so overwhelming that you got pushed the edge. You’re about to fall off the Jungkook cliff so you decide instead of falling against your will, you will control the situation—parachute and all, you are ready the fall. You’re going to confess.
“What’s with your face?” Jungkook finally stands in front of you, his hands pushed into the front pocket of his jeans.
You take a moment to take in Jungkook’s appearance…his tight jeans, his black combat boots and a white t shirt, with his coat draped over his left arm. He looks good. Really good. You crumble at the sight.
“Who’s the girl?” you catch yourself asking. It isn’t odd for you to pry into his life like this so the words don’t taste weird leaving your mouth…but, only you know you’re only asking because the tinge of jealousy you feel.
“Dunno.” He shrugs his shoulders, “I think I have a class with her.”
“Oh nice.” You also shrug, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible. “Shall we dance?” you nod your head towards the center of the living room where bodies shamelessly dry hump other bodies. You think you’ve seen Jimin grind on at least 10 different people tonight.
“Sure.” He smiles, his arm extends out for you to lead the way.
Somehow you went from sipping on a couple beers to taking shots with none other than your best friend. The two of you go from the living rooms dance floor to the kitchen for hours. The world becomes friendlier and a little blurrier but it’s nothing you can’t handle. You remind yourself to slow down, because you want to at least remember telling Jungkook your feelings for him and you want to remember his response. But wait—would if he rejects you? The thought lingers in your mind, so what do you do? You take another shot.
The air that surrounds the dance floor is different than the rest of the house…its hot, sweaty and downright dangerous. You and Jungkook find yourself dancing along with Trina and Jimin at some point, the 4 of you spinning around, jumping and hugging one another. Laughter filling the air, everything is perfect.
You feel Jungkook’s tatted fingers grip your waist as you dance on him, his fingers never find themselves going lower. And you wish they did.
“Guys! Guys!” You hear Jimin’s voice from a distance, but quickly growing closer.
Jimin stands next to the two of you as you guys are in your own world, the alcohol running through your veins, the music thumping loudly in your ears, Jungkook’s hands holding on to you tightly. Your bodies move together to the beat of the music, Jungkook’s head innocently falling into the crook of your neck. You innocently grinding your ass into his crotch.
All very innocent.
“Wow, just fuck already.” Jimin rolls his eyes playfully, “GUYS!”
“What?!” you and Jungkook yell back in unison, not having liked being interrupted.
An evil smirk makes its way on Jimin’s face, “Upstairs. Let’s go! Truth or dare, come on!”
Truth or dare? What are you guys, 12? You giggle into your hand, nodding your head approvingly. It should be fun. You follow Jimin’s lead up the stairs, you turn around to see Jungkook right after you. You reach for his hand, you two interlocking fingers as you stumble up the stairs trying to keep each other stable. The two of you giggle for no apparent reason as you make your way up, making Jimin roll his eyes again.
You’re about to enter the room when Jungkook stops just outside the door.
“Wait…Jimin?” Jungkook nibbles on his lips, “Can I talk to you for a sec?”
You and Jimin share a concerned look before you announce your departure.
“I’ll see you guys inside.” You smile, letting go of Jungkook’s hand.
“What’s up man?”
“Dare me to kiss y/n.” Jungkook states confidently. Jimin tilts his head in confusion then amusement.
“Why don’t you just kiss her without my help, hm?” Jimin teases, ruffling the younger ones hair. “But sure, why not?”
“Thanks, I owe you.”
“Oh you sure do.” Jimin winks, “Now come on.”
You’re sitting in a circle in the room with about 8 other people, some you’ve barely talked to, others you would consider friends. Jungkook and Jimin walk into the room and you notice Jungkook’s face is a soft pink…probably from the alcohol. Jungkook finds a spot on the floor next to you and he smiles gently in your direction, giving you the heads up that everything is okay. You just nod your head and smile back. The room is loud with chatter and laughter until Jimin stands up and clanks a wine glass with a spoon—ever the dramatic.
“Okay guys, we all know why we are here—truth or dare time!” He sits down in his spot, crossing his legs in front of him, “First, let’s start with Trina.”
“Of course.” Trina says flatly.
“Truth or dare?” Jimin smirks.
“Dare, obviously” she looks around the room, winking at several people.
“Okay,” Jimin pretends to think for a few moments, like he doesn’t already know what he’s going to say. “Dare you to flash your tits to everyone.”
“Oh? Is that all?” Trina quickly lifts her shirt up, revealing her bare breasts to the room. You and Jungkook cackle as you watch the scene unfold.
“Okay Hobi…” Trina nods towards to the bright smiling boy, “Truth or dare?”
“Dare!” he grins with all his teeth, no doubt excited “Okay, I dare you to take 3 shots in a row.”
The truths and dares continue on like this for quite a while. You being lame chose truth at first and had to admit when the last time you masturbated—which was 10 minutes before Trina arrived to your dorm. Jungkook had to spank some guys ass and Jimin had to make out with like, 3 different people. Which he wasn’t complaining. All was well…until it was Jimin’s turn again.
“Okay, Jungkook. Truth or dare?” Jimin smiles knowingly with an evil glint in his eye.
“Dare.” Jungkook says with a cocky smile.
“I dare you to kiss y/n.”
You immediately choke on your drink as you process his words. Jungkook? Kiss YOU? In front of everyone?
Everyone in the room starts whooping and hollering at the idea, but you shake your hands in front of you in denial.
“No, no. We can’t do that!” you slur, your eyes squeezing shut. This isn’t how things are supposed to happen! You need to confess first!
You miss the way Jungkook’s face falls as he looks between you and Jimin. Jimin looks at Jungkook with pity and mouths a ‘sorry’.
“Yeah, no way in hell am I kissing her.” Okay, maybe he didn’t have to sound so harsh. But he feels a bit rejected at the moment and needs to be on your same page.
“Uh, yeah.” You feel a pang in your chest. Oh. Jungkook doesn’t want to kiss you, not even as a dare.
“That’s literally the last thing I want to do!” You hear him cackle from beside you, “Someone else can do the honors!” he continues to bark loudly, laughter filling the room.
Jimin frowns, looking at Jungkook with knowing eyes as he clasps his hands together. “Fine. Kiss Amber instead.”
“That I can do.” Jungkook smirks, looking across the room to a blushing Amber.
Things are starting to feel like they are crumbling…you shouldn’t even confess anymore, right? Jungkook will clearly reject you. The thought makes you want to cry like a stupid ass baby.
“I’m gonna get something more to drink.” You say to no one in particular as you stand to your feet. Jimin watches you leave the room with sad eyes, then his eyes go to Jungkook who looks panicked.
You open the door and go to close it behind you when you feel it being pushed open again. Jungkook.
You ignore him the whole way down the stairs but he continues to silently follow you.
The party is still going hard when you make your way downstairs again, you weave through the crowd to get to the kitchen to fetch yourself another beer.
“y/n! Wait up!” you hear Jungkook call from behind you but you decide to ignore him.
You find the cooler of beers and grab yourself one, the chilling beer freezing against your fingertips. You crack it open and begin chugging it back, enjoying the carbonation that sizzled down your throat.
“Slow down Lightning McQueen.” Jungkook chuckles next to you.
“Don’t tell me what to do,” you don’t mean to snap, but you do. You feel tired, just tired.
“What’s with you?” he quirks a brow, looking adorable while doing so.
“What are you doing here?” you snap again, “Shouldn’t you be like, making out with Selena or whatever her name is.”
Jungkook tilts his head to the side, his doe eyes big and bright, “Selena? Oh! You mean Amber? Nah, I saw you leaving so I came with you.” He smiles, “I told you no girls tonight. I am spending new year with you.”
You blink at him in surprise, but you shouldn’t be surprised. Jungkook always keeps his word to you.
It makes the world crumble a little more, he said no girls. And you guess that includes you. Tonight was supposed to be the night, but you got your answers. Jungkook doesn’t feel the same.
“Want to go outside?” he asks, head nodding towards the back door.
“It’s cold, Jungkook!”
“I’ll keep you warm.” He winks then transitions into a soft smile, “Promise.”
You feel your heart begin to race but you order yourself to calm down…you aren’t confessing tonight, and that’s final.
The two of you walk outside, it was pretty damn cold, your skirt and crop top barely doing enough to keep you warm.
“Here.” Jungkook is shrugging off his jacket and handing it you.
“Thanks” you shiver, slipping on the warm, fuzzy coat. “Will you be fine?” you question.
“Only if you come snuggle with me.”
“Do these lines work on most girls?”
“Usually all of them.” He smirks, rubbing his hands together for warmth.
You giggle and move closer to him, wrapping your arms around his middle. Even though it’s like 20 degrees outside, Jungkook is unbelievably warm. You have to remain normal, like your heart isn’t breaking with every word or soft touch he offers you.
Jungkook pulls his phone out to check the time, huffing when he sees there’s still a few more minutes until midnight
“So how many girls did you have to reject tonight?” You ask with a snicker. Jungkook raises a brow in question, “Like, ‘oohh Jungkook please be my new year’s kiss??’ ya know, shit like that.” You mock. It’s not like you actually want to know the answer but you can’t help but be curious.
“Oh that? No girls lining up tonight.”
“Why’s that? You shut em all down early?”
Jungkook sways back and forth, your body clinging on to his, “I think they all see me with you tonight and are laying off.”
You scoff at his words, “Right, because I have stopped them before.” You roll your eyes.
“Ha, you never know.” Jungkook takes another look at his phone, “Oh less than a minute.” He says with the shrug of his broad shoulders.
“Wanna be my kiss Jeon?” the words slip out of your mouth almost killing you in the process. You can’t believe you just asked that! You literally just decided you’re giving up so why the hell would you offer him your lips
“Just kidding, you would rather have someone else kiss me, right?” you huff, saving yourself but god, what you wouldn’t give to feel his lips on yours just one time. For him to be yours…just one time.
Jungkook chokes on his spit as he tries to swallow down your words, “W-What?”
“Nothing.”
Jungkook obviously heard you loud and clear. Did you actually want to be kissed by him, he thinks.
5
4
3
2
1
Cheers of your classmates erupt besides you and you cannot help but smile at everyone’s happiness. You see many of them sharing hugs and kisses and you feel a pang of jealousy but you are mostly feeling joy.
“It’s nice right? Every—”
You didn’t get to finish what you were saying before Jungkook’s chapped lips are on yours. His mouth is warm and inviting but you don’t make yourself at home. Instead, you stand absolutely still as Jungkook innocently moves his lips over yours. Before you can really react, Jungkook is pulling away: absolutely horrified.
“y/n…I shouldn’t have done that…I’m sorry,” Jungkook is quick to stutter out.
You are frozen. You wish you could blame something…anything, wish you could blame the flurries that floated down to the earths ground, wish you could blame the below freezing weather and your short mini skirt, wish you could blame anything for why you are standing absolutely frozen.
You wish you could move, but the universe just won’t allow it.
“Oh my god, y/n…I really am sorry…fuck…” Jungkook’s wide eyes are focused on his feet as he threads his fingers through his thick, black hair. “Fuck, I’m sorry. Please forget about th—”
And your lips are back on his again. Jungkook’s lips may be a bit chapped but they are as soft and fluffy as you have once imagined. With your lips back on his, you take charge. You quickly move them over his, he hums in satisfaction. Your fingers find themselves in his dark locks, pushing up into his soft hair as his hand moves to cup your jaw.
You gasp when you feel his teeth nibble at your bottom lip, and moan into his mouth when you feel him jerk his hips into yours.
“Let’s go to your place.” You heavily breathe out, your fingers dragging down the side of his face.
Jungkook disconnects himself from you, stepping back a good foot, inspecting your face,
“You sure?” he asks.
“I’m sure.”
Because he may not feel the same, and he may not be yours but maybe just for one night he can be.
“Wait, you were…” Jimin’s eyebrows rise to the top of his forehead, “you were going to confess to Jungkook…?”
“Yeah…I know this might be shocking to hear—”
Jimin bursts out into laughter, his hand goes over to cover his mouth as he mutters out apologies.
“Shocking?! You think this is shocking to hear?!” he continues to chuckle, “But wow…on New Year’s eve…oh my god…” Realization hits Jimin. “Oh my god…you both are so unbelievably stupid. Oh my god.”
You share a look of confusion with Trina and Holly as Jimin continues to connects dots in his head.
“Please promise me one of these days you will actually sit down with Jungkook and have an honest conversation with him…because this is just cruel and hilarious to listen to. Your timing…wow. So fucking stupid, you idiots.”
“Okay, you don’t have to be so harsh Jimin.” Holly says sweetly, her awkward smile easing everyone.
“What do you mean?” you finally ask.
“Do you still like him…even now? I mean, I know the answer honestly but go ahead.” Jimin gestures his hand for you to answer him.
“I…”
“She doesn’t need to answer that.” Trina cuts in, “No matter what, we’re on her side. Right?”
“Oh honey,” Jimin tilts his head towards Trina, “There are no sides for me. They’re both my friends and they’re both idiots.”
You can’t help but laugh at Jimin’s words. Because he knows better than anyone how true that is, so you’ll believe him.
“But really y/n…if you didn’t tell me or Trina…did you tell anyone?”
You begin chewing on your lips again,
“I don’t even talk about it with Jungkook.”
“Why?” Holly decides to pry.
“We…after we slept together…I could tell Jungkook was freaking out. He kind of tried brushing off the whole situation and I…I just had sex with the guy I had feelings for. So I put a little bit of space between us—”
“Wait, this is when you guys weren’t really hanging out for a couple months?!”
“It was only a month.” You deadpan. “But yeah…”
“I was wondering what the fuck was going on…Jungkook wouldn’t tell me anything.”
Guilt begins making a new home with you as you sit here. You wonder if you made a poor choice back then.
“Then we agreed to never talk about it to save our friendship.” You finish.
Jimin gives you a blank stare, his eyes probably going dry from lack of blinking.
“To…save your…y/n please, I am literally begging you. Talk to him. Fucking tell him the truth…” Jimin begs, he finally screws his eyes shut and shakes his head, “I can’t help you any more than that.”
~~~~~~
It’s Monday morning and you woke up with a raging headache and a snotty nose. You better not be getting sick, you think to yourself. You have a full shift ahead of you!
You slowly put on your work uniform and apply some light makeup for the day. Did you always lack color in your face or are you actually getting sick? Fuckity fuck, you think.
“Are you sure you’re going to be okay?” Jade asks from beside you, you notice she dyed her hair black instead of the light brown she was previously sporting.
“Nice hair.” You go to compliment.
“Nice try but don’t change the subject.” She pats you on the back, “Me and the guys can take care of customers, you just bake, okay?”
“Kay.”
“You know who is so beautiful even when she’s sick?” Adam butts in, “Hazel.” He answers for you both with a dopey smile.
“Now’s not the time, loser.” Jade bobs her head around, “Where’s Lenny?”
“Probably eating fucking cookies.” You say with a grin.
“Wow, guys. I’ve been here the whole time and I am not eating cookies.” Lenny says from behind Jade. “But speaking of, don’t throw away the rejects I am taking them home.”
“Quick everyone,” Jade says flatly, “act surprised.”
The sound of the bell going off catches your attention, you notice a head full of sandy hair and you groan. It’s him. You feel like all the energy is being drained from your body, now is not the time for Mister Oatmeal Raisin.
“I’ll take care of him, don’t worry!” Lenny gives you a wide smile but you raise your hand up to stop him.
“It’s okay, he’s my usual. He’s going to ask for me anyway.”
You make it the front of the store to the register and give Mister Oatmeal Raisin a weak smile.
“Are we going to be a brat today?” he greets you warmly. You scoff and try smiling again but fall a bit short.
“Hey everything okay, y/n?”
“I’m fine Mister Oatmeal Raisin.”
“You don’t look…” he lets the words die on his tongue, not wanting to actually offend you.
“The usual?” you ask, already pushing the buttons on the screen for his order.
“Yeah.” He gives you a small smile and you smile back. You aren’t use to being so nice with him, usually you two have a lot more fun, shit, you really must not be feeling well.
You must turn around too quickly because you become very dizzy, your body wobbling and shaking from the sudden chill you feel. You hurry to lean against the counter, your hand going up to feel your throbbing forehead.
“Hey you good?” Mister Oatmeal Raisin peeks over.
“Fine, I—” you try to take a few steps but wobble too much that you almost fall. The world turning dark as your vision goes blurry but before you can hit the ground you feel yourself fall into two arms.
“Woah woah, y/n? y/n?” you hear your name from a distance, but the world is so dark and so cold that you can hardly focus on it.
“I got you.” You hear the same voice again.
You slowly open your eyes to see your most faithful customers face mere inches from your own as he holds your body up.
“You okay?”
You steady yourself and slowly get out of his hold and nod your head.
“Yeah, thanks Mister Oatmeal Raisin.” You weakly smile, saluting towards him.
“Min Yoongi.”
You can’t help but blush at your situation,
“Yoo…Yoongi.” You repeat back, your face returning some of its color. Mostly just shades of red.
“Yeah.” He smiles a real smile, you notice how cute and gummy it is and it makes you feel nice. Min Yoongi, huh?
~~~~~
It’s a lazy Tuesday afternoon, the sun creating a blanket of warmth outside while being accompanied by a fresh breeze. You want to enjoy the day…you really do but…
“Just let me die a miserable death.” You sniffle into your sleeve. It’s the 2nd day of the flu and you are well, like you said, miserable.
“You need to take the rest of your meds babe,” Jimin’s hand is full of various pills, he tries handing them to you but you deny him.
“No, I’m gonna overdose.”
“You’re not gonna fucking overdose you dramatic ass bitch.” Jimin rolls his eyes, setting the medicine down on your nightstand next to a full glass of water.
“Listen, I have to go to work but maybe call Trina to come take care of you? I know Holly is at school for the day—”
“Trina is home visiting her parents…” you sound disgusting as you speak, your voice all gross and nasaly.
“Oh. Maybe you could call—”
“No. Anyone but him,” you cut in, waving your hands in front of your face.
Anyone but Jungkook, you don’t need him to take care of you…you guys are hardly starting to become friends again and its only in group settings. So him taking care of you one on one sounds…intimate.
“No offense babe, but you literally don’t have any other friends.”
“I can take care of my—” you’re cut off by a string of sneezes, one after the fucking other. “Fuck, I am dying.” You shiver.
Jimin places his hand over your forehead, getting a feel for your temperature.
“Shit…I’m going to call him.”
“Noooo Jimin….” You lay back on your bed, your head beginning it’s pounding again. “Don’t need him…” you lazily grab the NyQuil bottle from your nightstand, “Only need this.” You smile while taking a few gulps.
“Jesus, what is wrong with you?”
Jimin takes out his phone and taps away on his screen, you assume he is sending a million texts to Jungkook begging him to come babysit you, that or he is texting Trina what a stubborn, whiny bitch you are to which she probably just replies with “True.”
“Wanna watch Howl’s Moving Castle.” You slur in your drowsy state, all the meds and NyQuil kicking in.
“Jungkook will be here in 30. Have him put it on for you when he gets here…I really gotta go…”
“Jungkook?” you try to open your eyes as you speak but they threaten to close every few seconds.
“Yeah. He will take care of you y/n.”
You wrap yourself further into your duvet, but the shivers don’t let up. You’re shaking from how freaking cold you are. Yet you are sweating like the disgusting human being you are.
Jimin eyes you over once more, his eyes full of pity as he closes your bedroom door and whispers a ‘see you later’ under his breath.
“y/n?” You hear his voice in the distance, like he’s a mile from you at least. His voice is fuzzy and far away. And you want it closer.
“y/n???” your body is being shaken awake, gently though. Like, he doesn’t want to hurt you.
“Hey…you need to take your medicine…” you begin to slowly open your eyes, the world is blurry and the sound of his angelic voice echoes. Jungkook.
“No…” you manage to breathe out.
“y/n you know I will force these pills down your throat.”
“mmmmm, leave me alone.” You lazily turn your body over to face the window. Your body shivering as you nuzzle further into the duvet.
“Not happening,” He walks to the other side of the bed and sits on the edge, just staring down at you. “Please take your meds, for me?”
“Mm mm”” you shake your head, your hair sticking to your forehead as more sweat builds up.
Jungkook looks at you with a soft smile, his hand reaching out to feel your forehead. His eyes widen as he feels how much you are burning up.
“Fuck…you’re hot.”
You crack open your eyes to look at Jungkook, “Thanks, you’re hot too.” You wink. Like a fucking sleaze. Your drowsy state feeling intoxicating as you lay here in your bed.
Jungkook chuckles to himself before turning serious again, “If you take some fever reducer I will do whatever you want today.”
You let his words marinate as you lay here, lifeless. “Anything?” you say, peering up at him.
His soft smile grows as his fingers find their way in your messy, sweaty hair.
“Anything.”
“Go buy me chicken noodle soup.” You whisper. “The kind you use to always buy me.”
Jungkook’s brows climb up his forehead as he looks at you amused.
“You think I came empty handed? Like, I didn’t already bring it?” he smirks, standing to his feet. “I’ll go warm it up, and you promise you will take your meds?”
“Pinky promise.” You weakly lift up your hand to bring your pinky to his and he gladly accepts it.
Of course Jungkook brought the soup. He’s Jungkook and you’re y/n. He is always taking care of you and you want to melt. Well, with how high this fever is you actually might.
“Hey Jungkook?” you struggle to turn over to face the bedroom door, “Thanks for coming.” Your dopey smile doing things to his heart. He looks at you with a soft, almost sad smile before he’s making his way to the kitchen.
Jungkook doesn’t want to admit how fast he rushed here to your place, but it was fucking fast. All Jimin sent was a simple “y/n’s sick.” text and he was already calling the deli where he got the soup from, placing a quick order for 2 and gathering his stuff to make his way over.
He is used to being in charge of you when you’re sick because you are stubborn as hell and he actually has the patience. But he has barely talked to you since the night of the get together, aka the night he became weak and almost kissed you—and if it weren’t for Jimin, he is sure he would have.
Jungkook stands at the stove as he heats up a portion of the chicken soup, he stares off into space as the surface begins to bubble. He exhales deeply, taking the pot off the stove and pouring the contents into a bowl for you. The soup is hot, but you probably need the heat to help ease the congestion.
Jungkook walks back into your room, the bowl in his hands with a towel wrapped around it. You wish you could smell the soup but you’re so blocked up that you don’t even notice it.
“Here, try to sit up.” He sets the bowl down on your nightstand. He goes to help you sit up from your spot in bed, his strong arms pulling you up and you gasp when you’re finally upright. Fuck. You become so lightheaded and dizzy that you hold on to his forearm for support and he lets you. He gives you a moment to adjust to your new position before he’s reaching for the soup.
“It’s hot, so be careful.” He warns softly.
He waits for you to grab the bowl but you just continue to stare at him with tired eyes.
“Wow, do I have to do everything?” he jokes, “Even feed you?”
You nod your head slowly in approval, “Yes, feed me.”
“Such a brat. You’re definitely taking all your meds after this, okay?”
“Sure.”
Jungkook sets the bowl on the edge of the bed, holding it with one hand carefully and his other hand scoops up the broth with a spoon. He brings the spoon to your mouth and nudges it between your lips.
“Open.” He demands.
Your half lidded eyes stare up at his large ones, your chest slightly heaving from trying to breathe. You never break contact as you part your lips for him, letting him pour the spoons contents down your throat.
“Good girl.” He whispers, setting the spoon back down in the bowl. “Taste good?”
You swallow the liquid and open your mouth to speak ,”Can’t taste anything…” you murmur.
Jungkook smiles down at you, “That’s a shame because,” he takes a mouthful of soup in his mouth, “It’s fucking delicious.”
“Hey! You’ll get sick!”
“I never get sick from you, remember?”
You lay your head back on your headboard, closing your eyes as the NyQuil begins to make its second attempt with you.
“So sleepy but so cold.”
“You need to eat more baby.” Jungkook gathers vegetables and a piece of chicken this time in the spoon, he brings the spoon to your lips and you open wide for him, eating what he feeds you gratefully.
This goes on for several minutes until you can’t stomach anymore food, you slide back down into your sheets, feeling miserable all over again.
“Hey, time for yours meds.” Jungkook says sternly, he shakes the pill bottle to remind you of your deal.
“Fine,” you reply weakly, you try to sit back up enough to swallow down some pills and water.
Once you gulp it down, Jungkook stares at you with a satisfied smile.
“Cold?” he asks.
“Freezing.”
You feel the bed dip beside you and before you can react you feel two strong, warm arms engulf you in a hug.
“Jungkook, what are you doing?” you slur into his chest, sleep trying its hardest to take you away.
“Just rest, y/n.” he hugs you tighter. “I’ll be here when you wake up.”
“You promise?”
“I promise.”
Jungkook feels his heart crack when you doubt his promises now, he feels himself sink into depression as he recalls what he did to you.
The past 3 months have been crazy and weird without you. He’s missed you every day. The first few weeks he spent it in isolation. He felt like he was lost and lonely and like he didn’t deserve anyone’s love or affection. Then he decided in order for him to move on he needs to put some serious distance between the two of you…hence, why he moved out.
He knows it was sudden and fucked up but he had to…Or else he would be stuck in his lonely unrequited love forever.
Your last night with him before he disappeared he even got his hopes up…that maybe you could feel the same, but he had to be realistic. You were in such a weird state, you just needed comfort. And he hates that he was second choice.
He thought on this for a couple months, his mind overflowing with thoughts and cruel ideas. He was beginning to spiral until he met…Vanessa.
Vanessa was just looking to get laid, just like him. They met through tinder, hooking up after matching the first night. But the sex was so good they both agreed to do it again.
One night, they got so shit faced they both ended up venting about the one who makes life better yet harder. For her, it was her ex of 4 years and for him, it was you.
They confided in one another, feeling free telling someone their deepest romantic desires and they just clicked. Forming a solid friendship while also fucking.
Jungkook is grateful for Vanessa because for the first time in 3 years he connected with someone who isn’t you. Vanessa is a smart, sexy girl. And Jungkook isn’t blind to see that, so they made a deal. They would use each other to get over the ones they really love. And he thinks it could of almost worked until he saw you at that party. You were wearing the same black mini skirt that he fucked you in for the first (and only) time. You looked better than he’s ever seen you.
Somehow this made Jungkook feel even more depressed. So you are better off without him, he thinks.
Jungkook is lost in his thoughts when he feels you stir…you briefly open your eyes and tilt your head to look up at him, you blink lazily with a dopey smile.
“love you.” You yawn out, closing your eyes once again, drifting back off into dream world.
Jungkook’s heart stops. Your words ringing in his ears as he tries to stay calm.
He knows you mean it platonically but he still can’t help what it does to his weak heart. He is crazy for you, even with everything that’s happened he still loves you. You and you only. It’s always you.
Jungkook plays with your hair and chuckles lightly as he hears you struggling to breathe properly due to your nose being plugged up. How can he continue to see Vanessa when he has you? Jungkook’s smile drops all together when he realizes that would put him back at square 1.
It’s almost midnight when you wake, your body feels stiff from how much shivering you endured. You try to get up when you realize Jungkook’s body is wrapped strongly around your own, his light snores filling up the room.
You look at him carefully, his hair falling into his eyes as he moans lightly every time he moves around slightly. He’s so cute, you think. You’ve always thought Jungkook was cute but right now there’s something so endearing about him it makes you want to peck his lips softly.
Wait, what? You want to what? That’s not allowed!
The next morning comes quickly, you lay awake in Jungkook’s arms wondering if it’s okay to stay like this all day. You admittingly feel much better compared to yesterday, breathing is much easier and your head isn’t throbbing. You feel a fondness swell in your chest as you stare at Jungkook’s soft, sleeping face and it makes you feel weird all of the sudden.
You’ve always felt this way about Jungkook, right? Wait, what way? What are you saying? Or at least, trying to say? You know though, you know what you are trying to say…it’s the same thing you’ve been trying to say since freshmen year. But saying it out loud is just different.
Confusion on how to feel clouds your mind as you stare at him, his breaths are light and airy and you feel so warm and safe in his embrace. He slightly shifts, his hips bumping into yours, lightly grinding into you. Your eyes widen as you feel his hard member bumping into your thigh and it’s not like you haven’t felt it before while the two of you slept but still, it surprises you each time.
Feeling his length twitching on your thigh is creating trouble for you, you hate that such a small act is getting you all hot. You try to scoot away but he only pulls you closer on instinct. He brings you so close that his warm breath fans over your right cheek and you want to force yourself to sleep more so you aren’t hyper aware of his dick.
“Jungkook…” you mumble, trying to free yourself from his grasp but you fail miserably.
His arms are circled around your hips and he digs his fingers into your exposed flesh from how your shirt is riding up.
“Baby…” he groans out, his hips grinding into your thigh again. His eyes are screwed shut, like he is still stuck in his dreams.
You lay here frozen, he’s called you baby a million times but this is different. He’s only ever called you baby in that tone when you two…you slam your eyes shut, trying to rid yourself of the memories.
“Jungkook, time to wake up.” You wiggle in his arms but your thigh only rubs on his dick more. He releases quiet whimpers against your ear, his lips parting in pleasure.
“Mmm…” he pants out, his hips thrusts against your thigh again.
Jungkook…dreaming?
Was it bad luck to interrupt someone’s dream? Or is this just an excuse to have him rutting against you?
“Jungkook…” your voice comes out shaky as you turn your body to face him, he groans in his sleep once more.
You’re afraid he’s going to say it. Her name. Vanessa. That’s the last thing you would want to hear…it would probably ruin your whole day so you need to wake him up.
“Jungkook….” You sound more breathy than intended. You need him to wake up so you can stop thinking about his length rubbing up on you. You flush as you feel your panties start to dampen, this cannot be happening. Why did Jungkook have to have this sort of reaction out of you?
“Mmm…” Jungkook whines quietly as he ruts himself harder onto you. His cock up against your lower belly, you start to imagine him without his black sweats on, you start to imagine him without his shirt. You hesitate to reach your hand against his hard chest, you breathe out heavily as you begin to drag your fingers down until you reach just the top of his waistband. Your eyes follow your fingers until you spot his hard erection through his sweats and you breathe erratically.
“What are you doing?” Jungkook’s husky voice interrupts your horny daze. Your eyes expand in size as you realize your position. Your eyes trail up his chest until you meet his gaze, his pupils blown out.
“Where do your hands think they’re going?”
“No—nowhere.” You stare up at him, gulping. You can’t do this with him, you are finally getting your friendship back but what is with all this tension?
Jungkook releases his hold on you, moving to his back. His arms fold underneath his head as he stares up at the ceiling.
“What were you—were you dreaming about?” your hand innocently finds its way back on his chest, resting over his beating heart.
“Uh…” Jungkook turns 3 shades of red, “I don’t remember.” His blush deepens.
“I feel like you’re lying.”
“Why would I ever lie to you?” Jungkook chuckles.
Your eyes trail down his body and you see his length still struggling with a probably painful erection.
“You have a problem?” you gesture towards his crotch.
Jungkook exhales a heavy breath, his eyes rolling to the back of his head. “Jesus Christ, y/n.”
“what?” you feign innocence.
“Do you really have to point out everything?”
“Only things that are super obvious.”
“Fuck.”
“You can go take care of it in the bathroom?” you kindly offer, causing him to scoff.
“I’m good.”
“I guess Vanessa usually takes care of these things, huh?”
“Seriously?”
Jungkook groans out, frustration written all over his face. He hates the mention of Vanessa especially when he was just dreaming about you. He feels wrong. They aren’t officially in a relationship but somehow it feels like cheating.
“Can we not talk about her?” Jungkook doesn’t want to be reminded of the shitty situations he’s in.
“What do you want to talk about?”
“Are you feeling better?” he asks softly, he moves his body to lay on his side to face you.
“Much.” You smile, “Thanks again.”
“Ready for some more chicken soup?”
A few hours pass, you figured Jungkook would have left by now but he sits on your couch next to you while the two of you watch some new anime. He laughs every now and then at the ridiculous characters and you feel warm inside. It almost feels like how things were before, when he still lived with you.
“Yeah, it does.” He says, still facing the screen.
“Huh?”
“You said it feels like we still live together.” He points out.
Shit, you said that out loud.
Jungkook bows his head, “I am…sorry that I moved out.”
“Move back in.”
“You know I can’t do that…plus, you have Holly now.” Jungkook sits back against the sofa, “Can’t just kick her out.” He snickers.
“Just move in my room with me.” You say half joking. But also, you know, half serious.
“Ha ha y/n.”
“What? You don’t like sleeping with me?” you tease. “Speaking of…you can stay as long as you want…”
“I…I have plans tonight, actually.” Jungkook stiffens in his spot. He pulls his phone out from his pocket, “actually, I should get going soon.” He regrets saying.
“Oh, okay.”
~~~~~
It’s almost 7pm and Jungkook looks himself over in the mirror. He’s got tight, ripped jeans and a dark blue shirt tucked in, his hair is wavy against his forehead. He knows he looks good but he can’t find himself to be happy about it.
He has a date with Vanessa tonight…
Vanessa 7:04pm
Hey babe, I’m ready when you are<3
Jungkook 7:05pm
Okay, I am on my way :)
The ride over to Vanessa’s place takes about 20 minutes, he uses this time to listen to the radio and think. He asked Vanessa earlier this week on a date for both of their days off.
When he arrives to her apartment, he sends her a text that he’s here.
Vanessa walks out wearing a cute, yellow sundress. Her hair freshly trimmed and sporting bangs.
“Hi handsome.” She says as she steps inside Jungkook’s car. She leans over to place a kiss on Jungkook’s lips and as she begins to pull away he pulls her back in, his lips chasing hers for a more heated kiss.
“Hi.” He finally says, out of breath.
“What was that for?” she smirks, her skinny fingers digging into her purse to pull out her phone.
“Let me guess,” she begins scrolling through it mindlessly, “You’re desperate to get y/n out of your head?” She stops scrolling to glance his way, “Need me?”
“It’s not like that…” Jungkook groans.
“Oh? Isn’t it though?” her coy smile spreads across her face. “But you need me to forget, right?” she tilts her head to the side, “That’s what we’re here for, Jungkook. We use each other.”
Jungkook drags a hand down his face, “But we are trying aren’t we? To make this work?” he sounds and looks tired, that Vanessa almost feels bad.
“We can make it work later, right now you need me.” She crawls on to Jungkook’s lap, she hikes up her dress around her waist and swivels her hips over his crotch, “Don’t you?”
“Vanessa…” he chokes out. Men are so weak, she thinks.
Her hands go to unbutton his jeans and pull out his half hard cock, she gently strokes it over and over until he is fully hard in her hand.
“Fuck,” he exhales deeply, the feeling of her tiny cold hand doing incredible things to his dick.
Vanessa slides her panties to the side and rubs his dick against her wet folds, covering his dick with her juices until she lines it up with her entrance. She releases a smooth breath as she begins to sink down on his hard cock, Jungkook gasps out of the warm feeling her tight cunt provides.
“You need me, don’t you?” her voice is smooth as silk. “But you won’t ever love me.” Vanessa rises from his cock and slams back down, repeating the motion over and over until Jungkook is panting out sweet words that mean nothing.
“You wish it was her, don’t you?” her sinister smile growing on her face, “Wish this perfect pussy was y/n’s.”
At the mention of you, Jungkook loses all composure while his dick throbs, begging for release.
“Fuck...” he whines out, his eyes screwing shut in pleasure, “y/n.”
“That’s right….” Vanessa’s wicked grin takes up her whole face now, “Fuck me like I am her.”
Jungkook shamelessly moans out your name over and over, his hips meeting hers in desperate thrusts. His eyes remain closed as he fucks into Vanessa’s cunt, only wishing and imagining it was you.
“Fuuuuck” he groans out, his fingers finding Vanessa’s clit and he rubs tight, focused circles.
Vanessa whines out, loving the feeling of his cock, his fingers and the mention of your name. it was all fucked up and nothing turned her on more.
She quickly comes undone as Jungkook continues to thrust from below, his precision becoming sloppy.
“y/n…” he grunts out with one final thrust as he comes inside Vanessa.
He keeps his eyes shut as he comes down from his high, the feeling insane.
Vanessa smirks down at him, slipping his softening cock out of her. She crawls back over to the passenger side of the car and buckles her seatbelt.
“Ready for our date.” She smiles, she digs through her purse to fetch her phone and it tapping away on it.
“Fuck…” Jungkook finally opens his eyes, realizing what the fuck he’s just done. “Vanessa…”
“It’s okay.” She says nonchalantly. “I was into it.”
“How?”
“Because I think of him every time you’ve made me come.” She peeks over her phone, her eyes shining. “So we’re even.”
~~~~~
“She lives!” You hear Adam sing as you walk into the bakery.
You look and feel much better! Totally revived from the fucking dead. You smile at your coworker and do a twirl and a curtsey just for show.
“I live!” you copy while smiling as you continue to do a few more curtseys.
Jade and Lenny walk out from the back and applaud you, you laugh at their action.
“Your oatmeal raisin guy has been in every day since you’ve been out to see if you’re okay.” Lenny brings up with a knowing smile, “Or should I call him your hero? Your savior?” he grins, stuffing his face with a sugar cookie.
“Oh shush, let’s just call him…” you begin to blush, “Yoongi.”
“Yoongi, huh?” Jade playfully elbows Adam’s side, “We’re calling him ‘Yoongi’ now!” she and Adam laugh, their teasing going straight to your head.
Yoongi is your usual customer—yes. But he’s also your…what did Lenny say? Your hero? Your savior? You cringe just thinking about it! But you cannot help but grin.
The work day goes on, you have your usual easy customers, your usual stubborn customers but no sign of Yoongi yet. He usually comes on what you are assuming is his lunch break, he must work nearby but it’s already almost closing time and he hasn’t made an appearance…not that you were looking forward to it or anything…it’s just you want to say thank you, you know, for catching you when you almost fucking fainted. A simple thank you!
You’re chillin in the back, swiping through your phone when the bell goes off at the front. Jade is the first to head towards the counter when after a moment or two she’s calling out your name. He must be here, you think. You smooth out your apron and look at your reflection from your phone screen—wait, why does it even matter? You begin walking towards the front to see Yoongi standing there with a worried expression on his face but once he sees you he smiles softly.
“You’re here.” He says.
You raise a hand, “Yup, I’m here.” You laugh, “Listen, I wanted to—”
“Are you feeling better?” he looks between you and Jade and she nods her head and walks back to the back.
“Much.”
Yoongi sighs in relief, then smirks at you.
“Then I’ll have my usual.”
You stare at him before your smile is growing on your face, you can’t believe the nerve of this guy. You like it though, you have to admit.
“Sure…Yoongi.”
Yoongi looks pleasantly surprised as he nods his head in satisfaction. You walk to the back and get him his two cookies, you bring them to him as he takes the bag from you, you put it in his order on the screen.
“Also…” you say, looking up from the screen “I really want to say thanks.”
“For?” Yoongi stuffs his hands into the pockets of his jacket.
“For helping me that day…I wanted to like, uh…”
“Wanted to like, uh…what?”
“I was wondering if I could treat you to like an ice cream or something…” you sway side to side, feeling a bit awkward.
“Are you asking me out?” Yoongi blurts out and you feel flustered as fuck, all the heat rushing to your cheeks.
“W-What? N-No—”
“Because if you are,” Yoongi takes one hand out of his pocket with his phone in his grasp, “Then I would say yes.” He slides his phone over the counter. “Number.”
You must be red as a cherry, or a tomato, or like a fire truck or whatever the fuck else is super red. You look at him and gasp, your hand coming to your mouth and you can’t help but lightly chuckle.
“Fine, I’ll give you my number…but this is just a thank you outing.” You wink, taking the phone and putting your number in.
“Sure, whatever you want to tell yourself darling.” Yoongi takes his phone from you and puts it back into his jacket pocket.
“I’m free this weekend.” He sways back and forth on his heels and he laughs a bit before saying ‘Ah’ and taking out $4 and hands it to you.
“For the cookies.”
“You’re not going to inspect them?” you put the money in the register.
“I’m deciding to trust you today.”
You smile again, a real smile. Yoongi smiles back and he’s about to say something when the chime of the bell goes off and a woman and her kids make their way inside the store.
“I’ll text you.” He says before he’s turning around and heading out the door.
~~~~~
“A DATE?!” Trina and Holly yell in unison. You just told them about ice cream with Yoongi and their excitement is very evident.
“It’s not a date guys. God, how many times do I have to tell you?” you whine into the cookie you’re eating.
“It’s a thank you outing!”
“Thank you outing my ass.” Jimin frowns, “Why are you going on a date? What about Jungkook?”
You scoff, “What about him? We’re just friends, Jimin.” You defend.
“If you just come clean about every—”
“No. What good would that do?” you bite on your bottom lip, “So I can feel the lovely pain of getting rejected? He literally has a girlfriend.”
“Yeah, don’t even get me started on that shit.” Jimin complains, he takes one of the cookies from the box on the middle of the table and starts nibbling on the treat.
“But who even is this Min Yoongi guy? Is he cute?”
“Super…” you admit through a soft breath.
What? He is. He may have started out as your annoying customer but you kind of always thought he was cute.
“It’s just ice cream, you know?”
“Is it just ice cream though?” Holly intervenes, stuffing her own face with a cookie, totally ignoring the new fad diet she’s on.
“Yeah, this sounds like a good opportunity y/n.” Trina grins.
“A good opportunity?”
Jimin looks at Trina incredulously, “A good opportunity? Really Trina? Just say you hate Jungkook and move on.”
“Okay, I hate Jungkook.” She states without a problem and you frown…you don’t want her to hate him. Yeah, he hurt you but he’s…he’s not a bad guy.
“Stop guys…” you finally say, putting your half eaten cookie down. You…this isn’t a date! This isn’t a date! This isn’t a date! But…would if it is?
“Aren’t you ready to move on y/n?” Trina looks at you seriously, her hard expression almost scaring you.
“I—”
“She doesn’t have to answer that,” Jimin cuts in, “Because whatever she decides we’re on her side…right, Trina?” Jimin gives Trina a cold stare, a bite in his voice.
“Okay guys, yes let’s all just support y/n…” Holly tries saving the tension in the room.
You…tried this before already. You tried using someone to distract yourself from Jungkook, you don’t plan on using innocent Yoongi to do that again.
“It’s just a thank you outing…” you mumble, the words hard to understand by your friends. “Just saying thank you…” you bow your head, feeling sad all of the sudden.
This won’t be a repeat, will it? Taehyung number 2? You don’t think Yoongi has any ulterior motives, no not that. But do you?
“Yeah. It’s not a date.”
Jimin clasps his hands together, “Then it’s settled! Let’s change the subject.” He looks between you and Trina and Holly.
“Agreed.” Trina and Holly say at the same time, you only nod your head.
~~~~
It’s a nice Saturday evening, the breeze blows through you just right making you feel so alive. The sun is setting, giving the sky a gorgeous orange glow and you fall in love with the sight.
“How many more pictures are you going to take of the sky?” Yoongi chuckles, he walks close beside you making sure you don’t run into to like, any poles as you distractedly take photos of the beautiful sky.
“One more, one more!” you snap one last photo on your phone and slide it in your back pocket, “I have a collection of sky pictures!” you say with pride.
“I believe you.” He takes out his own phone and captures a picture of the sky too. “So we can look at the same sky.” He mumbles somewhat timidly.
You tilt your head and smile at him. You two met outside the bakery this evening so you could walk to the ice cream shop just a block away, he walks on the side next to the street while you occupy the spot walking next to all the shops.
“You know I work right around here but never been to this ice cream place you mention before.”
“Really? Where do you work?”
“The record store.”
“Ah, really? I’ve never been in.” you slow down to admire the plants outside the floral shop.
“You should come by, I think the owner would be cool with it.” He smirks.
You observe his sly smile and you wonder…
“If you say some shit like ‘It’s because I’m the owner’….” You begin, you see his sly smile grow even wider. “Oh my god, you are!”
Yoongi laughs out loud, nodding his head.
“It’s a pretty small store, but all mine.” He smiles fondly thinking over his store. “I’m serious, come check it out sometime. I mean, you like music right?”
“Am I a human being? Of course I like music!”
You both laugh while approaching the shop. Once inside, you notice how busy it is and you become afraid you two won’t find a spot to sit.
“Here, tell me what you want and I’ll go order while you find us a spot to sit, hm?” Yoongi offers, as if reading your mind.
“Oh. Okay, yeah. Sounds good.”
After circling the place for several minutes you notice a couple that was sitting at a table by the window leave so you rush to occupy the spot. You grab a napkin and wipe down the table before sitting down, you pull out your phone and scroll through social media while waiting for Yoongi to come with your ice creams.
After waiting for quite some time, Yoongi finally shows up with two ice cream cones of different flavors.
“Here.” He gives you a small smile while handing you your cone as he takes a seat across from you.
“Long line.” He gestures towards the line and smiles again.
You really like his smile, he looks genuinely happy when he does.
“You know, you kind of intimidated me at first…” you admit softly, your own smiling joining the club.
“But you seem quite soft.” You laugh, licking your ice cream.
“I get that a lot…” Yoongi groans, he looks down at the table before looking back up at you,
“I’m just kind of shy at first.”
“Shy my ass!” you lick more of your treat, “You weren’t shy complaining about the cookies I choose for you!”
Yoongi blushes at this, his laughter timid.
“The cookies you choose are fine.” He finally says, “Just had a lot of fun messing with you.” He looks up and smirks. “So,” Yoongi begins licking his ice cream again, “What do you do? Or is the bakery it?”
You internally groan. You hate this question. You have a marketing degree yet you work selling cookies.
“Uh, for now, yeah.”
“Why just for now?”
“I have a degree in marketing but…”
“Oh? Your passion lies in marketing then?” he continues to kitten lick his ice cream.
You don’t mean to scoff, but you do. You fucking do.
“Ha, passion.” You chuckle bitterly, “I hate that word.”
Yoongi raises his brows in curiosity, “Why’s that?”
“I don’t think I…” you struggle to find your words, the topic making you antsy.
“You don’t think you have a passion? Is that it?” Yoongi hits bulls fucking eye. You sigh out, finishing up your ice cream and take a bite of your cone.
“I know, that seems impossible right? Everyone has—”
“It’s okay.” He states plainly, finishing up his own ice cream. “Having a passion…a dream…you don’t have to have something like that to live a good life. Even just surviving the day is the dream.” He looks into your eyes and he shows that gummy smile you are learning to enjoy so much.
His words…you don’t really realize the impact they are leaving on you, his beautiful and wise words are exactly what you need to hear.
Yoongi continues,
“I thought I had big dreams but in the end my dream was small, it was simple. I just want to live happily. Maybe it’s the same for you, I don’t know though. I’m only now getting to know you.” His shy tone makes you feel weak.
“No, no. I think you’re right.” You admit between soft breaths. “I only pursued marketing because I knew I could find a job in the field not because I like it…I am failing miserably in interviews. All my friends are going on doing what they love and I’m just…here.”
Yoongi looks amused for a second before his soft smile returns,
“Isn’t being here enough?” he asks.
Is it? You think to yourself, is it really?
“Are you happy y/n?”
Woah, that’s a loaded question. You chew on your lips instinctively, deciding how you should answer this—if you should answer this.
“Life is a bit complicated right now.” You laugh awkwardly.
Yoongi laughs too, he nods his head in understanding.
“Even with complications, you can still find moments where you’re happy, right?”
You feel yourself becoming drawn to Yoongi’s wise and understanding nature, his words creating a warmth in you. You feel like you’re actually making a friend.
“Yeah, you’re right.”
“You just gotta find the small things in life to be grateful for and eventually each small moment will add up and create big moments of happiness for you.” Yoongi smiles then stands to his feet and heads towards the trashcan to throw your trash away. While he’s gone for the few seconds he’s away, you sit back in your chair and think.
What’s complicated in your life right now? Well, you can’t find a fucking job to save your life, you’re afraid you wasted four years of college on the wrong degree—but what’s the right degree? You and Jungkook are the definition of the word ‘complicated’ and you’re afraid you’ll be stuck in unrequited love forever. But you have good friends, you like your coworkers and your job for the most part, you live in a good apartment, your parents call you regularly, you found a lady bug on a flower this morning, the list goes on!
Yoongi sits back down and folds his hands in front of him, he looks up at you with expectant eyes.
“Well?”
“Well, what?”
“Tell me more about you.”
You’re about to say something when realization hits you,
“How much were the ice creams?! They’re my treat, remember?” you quickly unzip your purse and pull out your wallet, fully ready to hand him some cash when he’s shaking his hands in front of him, denying you.
“No no, it’s okay, really.” Yoongi ushers you to put your wallet away, his smile brightens and you find yourself slumping in your chair in defeat.
“Fine.” You huff out dramatically.
“You can pay next time.” He looks down at his hands as he smiles to himself.
“Oh? There’s a next time?”
“Yeah, hanging out with you is fun y/n. I don’t want to just see you when I buy cookies...coming to see you is getting expensive.” He laughs into his shoulder.
“I just think you really have a cookie addiction.”
“Something like that.” He looks into your eyes for a moment before tearing them away to look back down at his hands. “Do you have any siblings?”
“Nope. But I have a lot of cousins, so it almost feels like I didn’t grow up lonely.”
“Your parents didn’t want to have any more kids?” Yoongi pries further.
“Actually, they weren’t supposed to have kids at all. I was there miracle baby, as they call it.” You laugh into your hands, “It feels ridiculous saying that out loud myself.” You laugh some more.
“Miracle baby, huh?” Yoongi teases. “Are your parents still together?”
“Hm? Oh yeah, they are.”
You parents are in a great, functioning relationship so why is it so hard for you to get into one?! “Are yours?”
“Nah, divorced.” Yoongi says with no bitter tone in his voice.
“Oh. I’m so—”
“Nah, it was for the best. Nothing dramatic happened they just weren’t meant to be.” He smiles at you and you nod your head.
You’re about to speak up again when you feel someone’s hand grip your shoulder and your name being called out. You know this voice. No, it can’t be. Jungkook.
“y/n?” He looks at you with confused eyes as he looks between you and Yoongi.
Jungkook is standing here next to your fucking table with his fucking girlfriend who is not his girlfriend, fucking Vanessa. She looks at you with a bored expression and tilts her head to the side.
“Hey.” He smiles at you but then looks at Yoongi again, “Uh, hey man. I’m Jungkook.”
Yoongi watches as you sit here with your mouth wide open, but he’s quick to shake his head and look up at Jungkook and introduce himself.
“Yoongi.”
Vanessa doesn’t waste her time in greeting anyone, she just taps her skinny little fingers on the table and whines into Jungkook’s ear about hurrying up.
“You guys wanna sit with us? There’s like no other tables.” You cannot believe your own ears as you offer that to them. Vanessa visibly frowns and rolls her to the side as Jungkook reacts just the opposite.
“Really?” his bunny grin taking over his whole face. You nod your head and gesture for him to go order his ice cream. He takes Vanessa’s hand and they head towards the line.
“Sorry for inviting them…I didn’t think.” You admit softly to Yoongi but he doesn’t seem mad. Not at all.
“A close friend of yours, I’m assuming?”
“Very.” You place some loose strands of hair behind your ear, you awkwardly laugh and begin pulling at the ends of your hairs. A nervous tick of yours, for sure.
“I see.” Yoongi smiles that fucking smile, like everything is okay. But is it? You don’t want to be in the same fucking room as Vanessa. But you’re giving her a chance for Jungkook’s sake.
“We aren’t really going to sit with them are we?” Vanessa’s smooth voice fills Jungkook’s ears as they wait in line.
“Why not? Plus she’s right, there’s like, no other tables.” Jungkook tries to reason.
“Why not? You cannot be ser—” she tilts her head, blinking at him, “Oh? You are? Also, you’re not worried about who this guy is? My Jungkookie isn’t feeling jealous is he?”
“Vanessa stop. It’s probably a friend from work or something.” He says nonchalantly.
“Maybe it’s a date.” Her silky voice annoying him.
“If it was a date why would she invite us?” he tries to reason again.
Vanessa tilts her head again and puts a finger to her lip, “Maybe she wants a foursome?”
“Stop.” Jungkook warns.
“I’m just trying to help you.”
You move to the other side of the table and sit next to Yoongi, you two bumping shoulders and you feel like a third grader with how giddy the action is making you.
“We’re here!” Jungkook announces excitedly. He lets Vanessa sit first and then he’s pulling out his own chair to sit in, right across from you.
“So Yoongi, how do you know our y/n?” Jungkook grins with all his teeth.
“I—”
“He’s a customer at work—”
“Yeah, I like to go to her bakery.”
Jungkook raises a brow, “Yeah the treats are good I guess.”
“Well, I don’t just go for the cookies.” Yoongi says, looking in your direction.
“Oh?” Jungkook sets his cup of ice cream down, “Oh.” He says again once realization hits him.
Vanessa glances up from her phone and smiles a smile that is void of all emotion at you and Yoongi, she sets the phone down and claps her hands softly a few times.
“So this is a date.”
“No—”
“Yes.”
You snap your head towards Yoongi with a shocked eyes. Did he just say this is a date? Then he’s smiling at you with apologetic eyes.
“I mean, I would like it to be.”
Your head immediately faces forward to see Jungkook’s reaction. He looks as shocked and confused as you, you begin shaking your head.
“Uh…um…” you say, your eyes still on Jungkook. He looks between you and Yoongi then he frowns. Fucking frowns!
“We can discuss that later.” You finally say, laughing awkwardly. Jungkook turns towards Vanessa and glares at her, fucking glares.
“What?” She mouths innocently, going back to her phone.
“Anyway,” you try to break the awkward tension, “I think me and Yoongi are going to head out actually.”
“We just sat down?” Jungkook looks at you with his big, stupid doe eyes and you almost want to stay but you know what’s for the best.
“I’ll walk you back to the store?” Yoongi asks from beside you.
You nod your head in agreeance, standing to your feet while Yoongi follows. Jungkook stands up too, not ready for you to leave.
“I’ll see you later?” Jungkook asks with pleading eyes.
You hesitate for a moment but end up nodding your head in approval.
“Uh, bye Vanessa.” You force out, your voice a little loud as you bid your farewells to her.
Vanessa continues tapping on her phone but uses one hand to wave you off.
This fucking bitch. What does Jungkook see in her? You just don’t see the appeal? Yeah, she’s gorgeous. But is that all I takes for Jungkook?
“Yeah, okay.” You roll your eyes and Jungkook looks at you sympathetically. He will scold Vanessa later.
You and Yoongi take it slow walking back to the bakery. You two walking idly, and stopping by other shops just for the fun of it.
“About what I said earlier…I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.” Yoongi is messing with a scarf on the mannequin inside this little boutique.
“You didn’t. I was just…surprised is all.”
“Is Jungkook like, your ex-boyfriend or something?” Yoongi doesn’t waste any time apparently. “Because you guys seem to have some history.” How can he tell you have history?!
“Sorry, I’m just a really observant person.” He chuckles.
“Um, no but we were best friends but some things happened and…” you hesitate to continue, “And…”
“It’s okay. Life has complications remember? But there’s still happy moments. So, tell me what’s not complicated about you two?”
“I love him.” you blurt out. “Wait, wait. I mean. Fuck. I mean—”
“That’s normal. He was your best friend, right?”
You sigh out in relief, your deep exhale heard throughout the whole shop.
“Exactly.”
“Are you still best friends?”
“That’s the complicated part.” You breathe out, “But does he still mean the most to me? Yeah.”
“I see.” Yoongi takes the scarf and wraps it around your neck, “I had someone like that too.” He smiles. “But I was in love with them.”
You choke on your spit, what is Yoongi…is he…does he know?
“Oh.” You decide to laugh, “But that’s not the case with me and Jungkook.”
“Never said it was.” He inspects the scarf around your neck, “You should get this,” he motions towards the scarf, “It looks good on you.”
“It’s summer time!” you laugh, “But thanks.” Your phone starts buzzing, you pull it from your back pocket to get a look at it.
Jungkook 7:42pm
Hey
Jungkook 7:42pm
Wanna come over later? Nick isn’t home
Jungkook 7:42pm
I know you said no solo hang outs but I thought I would give it a shot
Does this mean he’s ending his night early with Vanessa? If so, you may throw the whole rule away about no solo hang outs. You just cannot stand her. You don’t want to say you hate her but you do hate her attitude and honestly, overall personality.
You look over to Yoongi who is messing with the material of some cardigan, and you almost feel bad if you decide to ditch him. But your night was ending anyway, right?
y/n 7:45pm
hmm, sure. I’ll be over at 9, does that work?
Jungkook 7:45pm
Yes.
You slide your phone back into your pocket and head towards Yoongi and his new cardigan that you are assuming he is buying consider how smitten he looks with it.
“It’s nice, right?” he says holding up the piece of clothing.
“Try it on!”
“Don’t forget to come by the record store sometime y/n, since you’re a human being who loves music.” Yoongi chuckles, he leans forward and you share a cute yet awkward hug.
“Bye Yoongi. I’ll def be by.”
You unlock your car and step inside, sitting down. Yoongi shuts the car door for you and smiles and waves you goodbye as he starts heading towards his own car.
Tonight was nice, weird, then nice again. You definitely won’t use Yoongi to distract yourself from Jungkook but you definitely feel like you made a friend. He gave you some words of wisdom and comfort, that you really needed to hear. You feel like Yoongi could become someone important in your life.
~~~~~
Jungkook 9:14pm
When will you be here?
y/n 9:15pm
be there in 15.
Jungkook steps out of the shower, his towel hanging dangerously low around his hips as he takes a look in his fogged up mirror.
“You can do this.” He tells himself, his teeth catching his bottom lip.
He can hang out with you like things are back to normal. He can hang out with you like you guys are still just best fucking friends. But he hasn’t seen you since you were sick, since you had your hand in a dangerous place. Since he dreamed of you while in bed with you.
He can be normal. Like he didn’t fuck Vanessa and moan out your name the entire time. He groans and cringes just remembering that. Vanessa assured him it was fine but that just makes him feel worse. He feels guilt ridden while she remains coy and sickingly sweet.
Apparently, Jungkook got lucky. But will it be this way with every girl he’s with from now on? That’s unacceptable.
Soft knocking can be heard from the front door and a chime from his phone goes off. You must be here, he thinks.
He doesn’t have time to dress so he decided to say fuck it and open the door this way, it’s not like you haven’t seen this view before…you lived together.
He approaches the door, taking a long, deep breath before he’s swinging it open and letting you in.
You’re wearing leggings and one of his t shirts, his chest tightens at the sight. Jungkook quickly apologizes for not being dressed and you nod your head slowly, taking in his more than half naked appearance.
You flush at the sight, his towel doing barely anything to cover the outline of his length, and shit, the towel is short on him…his monstrous thighs flexing underneath. Your mouth waters as you shamelessly eye him up and down.
“Yeah…” you choke out, “Probably should get dressed…”
You make yourself comfortable on the sofa in the living room, some random movie is on TV and you mindlessly watch.
“Sorry about that” Jungkook laughs. He walks to the sofa, sitting beside you but with enough space. “You got here sooner than I thought.”
“Well, I live pretty close.” You point out, your face angled towards him. “So what’s up?” “Nothing, I just wanted to see you.” Jungkook eyes light up, “Oh! I have wine!”
You nod approvingly, “Now we’re talkin’ baby.”
Jungkook rushes to the kitchen to find two wine glasses and fills them to the brim, he walks back to the sofa and hands you a glass.
“I know you said no one on one hang outs but thanks for coming.”
“I’ll make an exception this time” you wink, bringing the glass to your lips. You nod at one another as each of you take a generous gulp.
“Aaahhh, alcohol.” You say in unison. Then you look at one another and burst into a giggle.
“How were your plans?” you pry. You set the glass down between your thighs as you move your body to face him, giving him your full attention.
“Uh…” Jungkook doesn’t know what to say.
“It’s just…” the words die on his tongue. He sends them to the graveyard as he sits back on the sofa and shuts his pretty mouth.
“You guys didn’t have fun?” you pry further. You want to know, for some reason you want to know what him and Vanessa were up to.
“Did you guys like, hang out after the ice cream place?”
“Not really…we…kind of hung out but it was quick.” He says, rubbing the back of his neck.
“A quickie, huh?” you joke, but you wonder if that’s what it really was.
“y/n.” he warns, his hands go to massage his exposed thighs, his shorts doing little to cover all his muscles.
“I’d kill myself for a quickie, it’s been so long.” You decide to be honest, you’re trying to be like normal friends again.
Jungkook’s brows crease as he looks at you, “Don’t say stuff like that.”
“Right, sorry.” You pat his shoulder, “But really, it’s been forever.” You say again.
“Um, when was the last—”
“Taehyung.”
Jungkook’s frown deepens, “When’s the last time you spoke to him?”
“Maybe a week ago? He sends me texts occasionally.”
“You talk to him?!” Jungkook howls out, his hands gripping his shorts.
“It’s more like he talks to me.” You chuckle. “What about you? When is the last time you talked to him?”
“Umm…”
“What?”
“About a day after you told me everything.” Jungkook’s eyes slide to the side, a look of guilt plastered on his face.
“You went and talked to him after?” the shock is evident in your voice.
“Something like that…” Jungkook scratches the top of his head, deciding if he should tell you the truth. He decides to be honest.
“I went over there to kick his ass.”
“Jungkook!” you blink at him repeatedly, until you’re snorting. “And how did that go?”
“Gave him a black eye.”
“And you?”
“Got a busted lip from it.” He admits, even though you can tell he didn’t want to say that last part.
“Fighting is never the answer.”
“He deserved it, y/n.”
“And did you deserve the busted lip?”
“Yeah.”
You weren’t expecting him to agree with that so quickly, you were just joking around. You realize Jungkook is probably still trying to forgive himself, like he once told you.
“Well, everything’s okay now right?”
“Is it y/n?” he doesn’t look at you. He only stares straight ahead.
“Jung—”
“I am still so sorry…” Jungkook exhales deeply, his hand finds its way to yours.
You tangle your fingers through his, until they’re interlocked.
“I know, Jungkook.”
“I’m trying so hard to…” Jungkook faces you, his frown making you wince. “…make this right.”
“I know, Jungkook.”
“I’m trying to…” he chokes on his words, his breathing becoming slightly unsteady, “…work this out.”
“Jungkook—”
“I’m trying.”
His palm in your hand becomes so sweaty and you almost want to detangle so you can wipe your hand on your yoga pants. But you keep holding on to his hand, his guilt very apparent to you right now.
You scoot closer to him until your knees are touching, you place yours and Jungkook’s hands in your lap.
“And we’re making it work, we’re taking it slow.”
“It almost feels like our friendship has started over y/n.” Jungkook’s voice cracks, “Like, I don’t remember how to be like we use to be…”
“I told you Jungkook, things probably wouldn’t be the same.” You squeeze his hand in yours, “But that’s okay. We…”
Jungkook looks at you with his doe eyes and you want to melt. You want to melt into a puddle on the floor.
“It may not be the same but could it be better this time around?” Jungkook asks with pleading eyes.
“I hope so baby.” Your other hand reaches forward and caresses Jungkook’s cheek and he leans into your touch, he breathes out, his breaths hitting your palm and you feel yourself getting hotter.
“You rarely call me baby.” Jungkook whispers. “Only time you really did is when we—”
“When we what, Jungkook?” you challenge, your hard stare making him shiver.
“I don’t have to say it.” He says. “Look, wanna get fucking wasted?”
You look at him for a few moments, just staring into his eyes before you crack a smile.
“I dare you to chug your entire glass of wine.” You point at the wine glass with your chin.
“Only if you chug yours.” Jungkook winks.
“Wow, aren’t we some classy bitches?” you joke.
You both clink your glasses together and begin chugging the wine back, the bitter flavor making you wanna puke but you handle it just fine.
“Phew, that was something” you say, trying not to throw up. “wow I am not young anymore, or what?”
“Yup, you’re an old lady. I chugged it like a champ.” Jungkook grins, setting his glass on the table in front of the couch.
“If we aren’t tipsy within the next 5 minutes I am punching someone.”
“I’m starting to wish Nick was home now, I don’t want to fall victim to your fists of fury.”
After several more glasses of wine has been drank, you find yourself snuggling close to Jungkook on the sofa.
“I thought you said no affection.” Jungkook slurs out, teasing you.
“Oh? Should I move away?”
Jungkook pulls you by the arm, making your body fall forward into his side. Closer and closer.
“Never.” Jungkook lays his head on top of yours. “Wanna go lay in bed? More comfortable.”
“Yes yes, sleep over.” You cheer drunkenly. Jungkook stands up and helps you to your feet as well. You fall forward into his arms and he has to half carry you to his room.
Jungkook has the same blue comforter on his bed and it brings you back to a million memories. You wonder how many times Vanessa has been tangled up in this blanket? You don’t even want to ask Jungkook if the sheets are clean…you don’t want to think about him with her.
“Come lay with me.” You slur out as you slip between the sheets. “I want to cuddle.”
“Coming, just gonna grab some water for us.”
“Kay” you respond lazily.
You look around Jungkook’s room, it looks exactly as his last room in the apartment you two shared. Somehow that makes you happy, like not much has changed.
“Okay, drink this.” Jungkook is nudging a glass of water between your lips but you refuse.
“Mm mm.” you shake your head.
“Be a good girl for me.” Jungkook says in a low voice, you blink up at him, opening your mouth to drink the water.
“Good.”
He sets the water down on the nightstand and sinks into bed with you, leaving the lamp on so there’s a nice, warm glow lighting up the room. You immediately snuggle close, your head nuzzling his chest.
“So…was that a date tonight?” Jungkook finds the drunken balls to ask you, finally.
“No.” you answer honestly. “But it could turn out that way.”
You don’t know why you say that. Maybe in hopes to make Jungkook jealous? But why would he be jealous?
“How so?”
“He’s a nice guy.”
“Pshh, I’ll be the judge of that.”
“He is, Jungkook.”
“So you give any nice guy a chance?” Jungkook slurs out. “I can be nice…” he says, barely above a whisper.
“Tell me 3 nice things then.” Your hand lays rest over his stomach, you rub circles on it and he sighs out.
“You’re…” Jungkook bites down on his bottom lip as he thinks, “Really beautiful.” He turns to lay on his side to face you. “Really smart.” His breaths are mingling with your own. “And really funny.”
“What generic answers.” You laugh. “But I’ll take them” you look up into his eyes, they’re dark and beautiful. “Should I compliment you too?” you ask, your drunk mind giving you confidence.
“Yes please.”
“You’re really, like really fun to be with.” Your fingers brush some of his hair out of his eyes, “You make me laugh a lot. And I think you’re really sexy.” You chuckle.
“Sexy?” he slurs out, licking his lips over and over as he watches you nod your head.
“Yeah.” Your hand goes back to his stomach, your fingers go under his shirt, brushing your fingers over his sensitive skin and he releases a long breath as he slowly closes his eyes.
“y/n…” Jungkook whines out quietly, his erratic breaths not going unnoticed by you.
“You like being touched by me?” you whisper.
“Yes.”
You know you are both too drunk right now but you cannot help but continue.
Your fingers dip lower, caressing his lower belly, your touch so light he almost doesn’t feel it. But he does feel it. He feels it.
That same hand crawls up his chest and goes behind his head, gripping a handful of hair and slightly tugging his locks, Jungkook whimpers at the feeling.
Jungkook’s hips rut forward and you feel yourself getting hotter. Jungkook has his eyes screwed shut when you tug his hair again, this time pulling his head back to expose his throat.
Your other hand reaches up and with your pointer finger you drag it from his lips down his throat until you reach his collar bones then you slowly, very slowy drag that same finger down his chest and his toned stomach.
Jungkook tries to steady his breathing but he can’t. Your own breathing not much better. You decide to retreat both hands back to your sides when Jungkook’s eyes shoot open.
He looks down at you, his eyes dark and dreamy.
“You think you can just tease me like that?” Jungkook’s voice is the lowest you’ve heard it. “Huh, y/n?”
Your name slips past his lips in a low, seductive tone and you can’t help but squeeze your thighs together. You’re drunk, you keep reminding yourself. You should stop this. But—
“What are you going to do about it Jeon?”
Jungkook glares at you before he’s smirking, his hands circle around your waist and he pulls you into his body, your chest flush against his. You feel his hard length against your stomach and you swear right then and there you become undeniably wet.
Jungkook just stares at you, stares into your eyes, stares at your lips until he’s breathing so erratically. Your harsh breaths hit his skin and he leans forward until his forehead is touching yours. Your lips so close yet so far.
“We’re drunk.” He slurs out, but there is amusement in his voice.
“Drunk people do things they’re not supposed to all the time.” You tease.
Jungkook’s go from your waist to your hips real quick, he pulls them closer to his crotch. You feel how hard he is at your center and you want to moan out right then and there. The clothed contact feels so fucking good.
“Jung—”
Jungkook desperately brings you in close, his lips connecting with yours. His mouth is warm and moving against yours messily and aggressively. You pause the kiss to moan but then dive right back in. He ruts his hips forward, you feel how desperate he is and you find yourself grinding your hips into his. The pleasure on a whole other level, his clothed cock rubbing against you so deliciously.
His tongue finds its way into your mouth, he plays with your tongue, tangling them together. You continue to moan out, your hands exploring the front of his body until you hand finds its way back into his hair. You know he loves to have his hair pulled, you do. You tug it gently at first, he disconnects his mouth from yours to groan out. Then you’re pulling it a little harder and he’s rutting against you faster. He guides your head to expose your neck to him and he begins sucking bruises, leaving his pretty art work behind.
“y/n.” your name gets dragged out between his teeth and you swear you become even wetter. You yank his head forward until his lips are on yours again, you kiss him over and over until he’s begging to be touched.
But you don’t touch him, no. You just continue to kiss him, like your life depends on it. Your lips move from his mouth to his neck, you suck on his skin as he whimpers out.
Jungkook’s hands grab a hold of your ass, grinding you closer into his crotch and you moan at the feeling. You never knew this much action with clothes on could feel so fucking good.
“Love this ass.” He massages your cheeks and gives them a light spank. You whisper his name over and over, your lips attacking his neck again. You two move desperately against one another, he finds your lips again and kisses you wet and sloppy and you couldn’t be more turned on.
And next thing you know the sun is making its way through his blinds and it’s morning. You’re dead asleep in Jungkook’s arms. The boy snoozing away as well. You two completely oblivious to last night’s adventures.
You begin to open your eyes, taking in your surroundings. That’s right, you’re in Jungkook’s room. You look all around the room until your eyes land on him. You smile softly until you see it. A purple bruise blooming on his neck…several in fact. And last night’s events hit you like a fucking train.
You quickly sit up in bed, panic filling your body when Jungkook begins to stir in his sleep, your action waking him up. He opens his own eyes and sees you staring down at him.
He notices his own evidence of his attack on your neck and goes pale. Then he says the words you’ve been thinking.
“Oh fuck.”
746 notes · View notes
rocorambles · 4 years
Text
Perfect
Pairing: Akaashi x Reader
Genre/Warnings: NSFW, Yandere, Toxic Relationships, Manipulation, Non-Con/Dub-Con, Forced Impregnation
Prompt: “I told you to stay still”
Summary: The perfect couple always has children. Multiple children. A full family. A house full of laughter and home-cooked meals. And you two are the epitome of a perfect couple. So why are you still so hesitant about taking the next big step?
Author’s Note: This is my contribution for my HQ Discord Server’s NSFW collaboration. There are so many talented writers on the server and I highly encourage you to check out the collaboration masterlist here to see how everyone decided to run with this spicy prompt. (Masterlist goes live Tuesday 6th October 11:00pm U.K. time!) 
Akaashi’s always been an overthinker. He can admit that. He knows it’s a flaw he’s always had and could never seem to shake off. But just because he realizes it doesn’t mean he does anything about it. And the overwhelming pressure he places on himself in everything he does only fuels the suffocating thoughts until they’re screaming in his head. Unfortunately for you, his sweet darling wife, that only means terrible things for you and suddenly every move you make is alarming, every word you say is suspicious, every breath you take painstakingly monitored. 
Akaashi just wants to be the perfect husband, the perfect lover, the perfect provider. He wants the two of you to be the perfect happily married couple, to live the perfect domestic life. So after years of playing house, of devoting all his attention and love on you, of spoiling you rotten with everything you could possibly want, when you tell him you aren’t ready to have children yet, he feels his cool facade slip and the incessant thoughts begin to drown him. 
The perfect couple always has children. Multiple children. A full family. A house full of laughter and home-cooked meals. And you two are the epitome of a perfect couple. So why are you still so hesitant about taking the next big step? Are you tired of him? Do you not want to have kids with him? Are you planning on leaving him? 
You nervously shift from foot to foot, intimidated by the chaos you see in blue eyes and you tentatively reach out to your husband, trying to understand what’s wrong, but you sigh in relief as he jolts at your touch, staring blankly at you before setting his face back to its usual serene countenance, slightly smiling at you as he nods in understanding and affectionately kisses your forehead. This is the Akaashi you’d fallen in love with and you happily sigh as you wrap your arms around his waist, letting yourself be rocked in his arms in a warm embrace, ignorant of how his face hardens as soon as his chin is tucked above your head, eyes thoughtful, mind scheming. 
It takes some coaxing, some patient conversations during your most vulnerable moments when you were still groggily rubbing the sleep out of your eyes or yawning as you lay your head on the pillow to sleep at night, but he finally gets his answers and he smiles in endearment as you worry about whether or not you’re ready to be a mom. Would you even be a good mom? Oh. He’s sure you’re going to be the perfect mother and he makes a mental note to prove that to you until you see it for yourself, but he’s grateful for the darkness that hides his grimace when you go on to talk about how you also want to focus on your career for now. It’s not that Akaashi is against women working. He doesn’t hate how happy and fulfilled you feel as you ramble on and on about work, about your coworkers, about your salary and title. He just thinks you’d be even more perfect as his pretty little housewife and he quietly plans and strategizes as your breathing gets heavier and heavier until you’re fast asleep besides him on your shared bed. 
He waits until your chest rises and falls in even rhythms before reaching over for your phone. You’ve always been so trusting, probably too trusting of him, but that works in his favor now as he flawlessly types in your password and dives into your alarms and work emails. A swipe there, a deletion here. He meticulously combs through your phone turning off your alarms, deleting important meetings, getting rid of urgent emails waiting for your response before he quietly places your phone on the nightside table by you, pleased with his work and he closes his own eyes, a small smile on his face as he peacefully sleeps. 
Luckily, he leaves for work much earlier than you, so he’s out the door before you can even realize the messy day you’re about to have and he can’t be blamed for not waking you up when your alarm doesn’t go off. He patiently waits and waits, glancing at his phone every now and then, waiting for the onslaught of panicked and distressing texts he knows you’ll send his way as your day gets progressively worse and worse. And sure enough, his phone vibrates over and over again as you send a flurry of texts steeped in negative emotions and like the perfect husband he is, he sends the consoling and comforting notes you need. And when you call, crying and sobbing about being yelled at, about how awful at your job you are, he’s there to soothe you. 
“Don’t cry, love. It’s not your fault. You’re an amazing woman. Maybe this just isn’t the right job for you or the right company for you.” 
He plants the seeds of doubt in your mind and you let them be watered by the sweet suggestions he sprinkles on you. And with just a few more flicks of his wrist in the middle of the night when you’re asleep, ignorant of your phone being used without your knowledge, and a little bit of time, you’re finally fired and he’s there, rushing back home to wrap you in his arms. But he smiles when instead of being distraught, you merely sit there quietly as you tuck yourself against him. 
“Maybe this just wasn’t the right job for me, Keiji.”
He encourages you to take some time off from the workforce. You had worked so hard for so long. You deserve a break. And you mindlessly nod along to his silky voice. Relaxing does sound nice. You had thrown yourself into your job so much that you’d forgotten what it was like to have so much free time and you begin to excitedly ponder what hobbies you could pick up to fill the days, what projects around the house you could finally get done.    
Akaashi sighs when his alarm goes off the next morning, but he sits up in confusion when the smell of freshly brewed coffee wafts through the air and he blearily turns to your side of the bed, freezing when he finds it empty. But his groggy mind begins to put two and two together and he rushes towards the kitchen where he feels like his heart might burst at the sight of you humming, an apron daintily wrapped around you as you pour a generous amount of dark caffeine in his favorite mug. And he can’t stop himself from closing the distance between you as he tenderly wraps you in his arms, turning you around until you’re face to face as he captures your lips in a good morning kiss. He wants every morning to be like this, he thinks, as he mentally captures the image of you smiling and waving goodbye to him from the apartment door. The perfect loving wife seeing her husband off.
You spend your long days at home tidying up the house, decorating spaces in the house you’d always wanted to spruce up but never had time to before, spending hours in the kitchen cooking and baking everything you’d always wanted to try. It’s nice to fall into a domestic rhythm with Akaashi and work is far from your mind as you cheerily greet your husband when he comes home, as the two of you pleasantly chat while he eats the piping hot delicious meal you’ve prepared for him, as he hand feeds you the brownies you had made as the two of you sit on the couch and watch a show together.
But as time goes on, you find yourself twiddling your thumbs a bit with just a little too much idle time on your hand now that the interior of the apartment is exactly up to your dream standards of cleanliness and decor. And you can’t help but wonder how nice it would be to have a small child running about the place, keeping you company while Akaashi is away at work. You freeze when the thought crosses your mind and your brows furrow in confusion. Where had that thought come from? You’d never wanted kids before. And yet...You quickly shove that fleeting idea to the back of your mind as you refold laundry that had already been handled, throwing yourself into anything that could distract you from the strange desires plaguing your mind. 
Little do you know how much Akaashi has influenced you in the time you’ve been stuck at home. Little do you know that the daily evening walks he takes you on after dinner are always purposefully done around the nearby children parks. Little do you know that the little comments and remarks he makes about how adorable that child is, how silly this child is aren’t as offhand as you think. They’re strategically strung together words just for you and he slightly smiles when he sees them weaving through your mind as your eyes soften and a longing smile begins to tug at your lips when you turn to look at what he’s talking about. Little do you know that it’s no accident when the two of you go shopping and find yourselves passing aisles of children’s toys and clothing. And Akaashi feels his chest tighten with affection when you unconsciously skim your fingers over the tiny shoes and onesies, asking him for his opinions. 
“Aren’t these cute, Keiji?” 
And he nods his head as he reaches down to hold your hand, interlacing his fingers with yours as you continue perusing. 
He knows he almost has you right where he wants you. He can almost see the cogs turning in your head, see you imagining a life with him and a family...your own little family. It’s time for the final step and he secretly keeps tabs on the convenient period tracking app you have on your phone waiting and waiting until your next ovulation period and when it comes, you squeal in surprise when he impatiently whisks you off to your shared bedroom and presses you down onto the bed as soon as he steps into the house after work. 
His movements are so hurried, so rough, so unlike how Akaashi normally is, but you eagerly reciprocate, excited to see this side of your husband and you’re a moaning, writhing mess as he bites and sucks every inch of your skin, a trail of red skin following in his wake as he marks up your neck, collarbones, and breasts. You’re already dripping wet by the time he finally reaches down to rub your clit and slip his fingers inside of you and your hips buck up into his touch, urging him for more. Your head is swirling with lust and you whine when he briefly slips away to guide the tip of his cock against your leaking hole and you shudder in desire when you feel him running his tip along your slit. But even in your dazed state, you feel yourself hesitate a bit when you see that he isn’t using a condom. 
“Keiji, I’m ovulating. You need to use a cond- AH!”
You’re cut off as he slides his cock inside of you, your slick walls greedily sucking him in with little resistance and you try to muster up the words to repeat yourself, but you can’t articulate anything as he leans down to suck a perky nipple as he begins to thrust in and out of you in a sensual, but thorough pattern, making sure you can feel every inch of him rubbing against your clenching walls, making sure you can feel him sink balls deep inside of him, making sure you can feel him stimulate the spongy spot inside of you that has you seeing stars. And you give up, trusting that he’d at least pull out before he cums, and you lose yourself to the feeling of being so used and filled, feeling the coil in your stomach grow tighter and tighter, and when blue eyes gaze down at you and he hungrily leans down to capture your lips in a searing kiss, you fall over the edge, your pleasured wails swallowed by your husband’s lips as he chases his own end. 
You lay there in mind numbing bliss as he continues to sink in and out of your tight heat, letting out little mewls of overstimulation, but when you feel the erratic rhythm of his thrusts and you see the telltale look on his face as he closes his eyes that indicate he’s close and he makes no attempt to pull out, you weakly shake his shoulders, squirming and wriggling your body from underneath him as you try to pull away. 
“K-Keiji, NGH you can cum on me. Okay? AH B-but, you can’t cum inside me.” 
You scream when large hands roughly grab your waist in a bruising grip and forcefully pull you down until he’s fully inside you once again. 
“Stay still.” 
You whimper, trying to be good for him, but anxiety is beginning to cloud your pleasure and you struggle once again, pleading with him and telling him you don’t want to get pregnant. But you keen when that only spurs him on to fuck you rougher, harder, deeper and your eyes roll back as you try to register the almost painful overstimulation you’re going through. 
“I told you to stay still.” 
And this time you do stay still, unable to do anything else but lay there like a good obedient wife as he pistons in and out of you, your mouth open in a persistent silent scream as your hands desperately scramble to find purchase in the rumpled bed sheets and you brokenly moan when he finally shoves inside of you with one final thrust and your stomach feels hot as spurts of liquid spill inside of you.
You’re in shock as he stays buried inside of you, trapping your body with his as he lays down on top of you, nuzzling and kissing the crook of your neck as he keeps his cum inside of you and you’re not sure how much time passes as you just lay there, mind blank as you try to come to terms with what had just happened. But when you feel his cock begin to twitch and harden inside of you once more, you frantically try to push him away from you, try to separate yourself from him. 
“Keiji, stop it! I need to go get Plan B or something. I-” 
Your mind is a chaotic swirl as you try to figure out next steps to avoid this unwanted pregnancy and you think you might throw up at the idea of being pregnant, having a child, all so suddenly, so fast. 
You’re not ready. You’re not ready. You’re not ready. 
Your thoughts are shattered to pieces when you’re shoved back down onto the mattress and you loudly wail when Akaashi begins an unforgiving pace once again, brutally slamming his hips into yours, his cum acting as lubrication, making it easier for him to plow into you and take you over and over again. And the last coherent thought you have is that you were such a fool to not realize just how much stronger, how much larger Akaashi is compared to you as your attempts to shake him off are easily ignored by the man above you. 
You don’t know how much time has passed. It feels like an eternity and you’re not sure how you’re still conscious as Akaashi breeds you over and over again. Your mouth is open in a persistent silent scream, your eyes are rolled so far back in your head you can barely see, tears and drool mar your face. Everything feels so good, too good, and you can’t stop sobbing from the overwhelming pleasure you feel as Akaashi keeps on spilling load after load of sticky white liquid inside of you and you curl into Akaashi’s body instinctively for comfort when he sinks down on top of you, exhaustion finally catching up with him. And the two of you just lay there, chests heaving as you both heavily pant, his flaccid cock still buried inside of you, plugging his cum inside of you. And even though you want to yell at him, to be angry at him for forcing this on you, you’re so spent, head empty of anything except for Akaashi that you let yourself be maneuvered until you’re both on your sides, facing each other, your lower bodies still intimately connected. 
You let out a little whimper when you feel a large hand gently stroke your cum-filled stomach, but you can feel your face and body grow hot when his other hand gently nudges your chin up to look at him and you see the look of pure love and adoration in his eyes. 
“You’re going to look so beautiful with your belly bulging with my children, our children.” 
You let out a breathy gasp when he teasingly fondles one of your pebbled nipples and palms your fleshy mound. 
“You’re going to look so beautiful when these swell up with milk. I wonder if our children would be willing to share some with their father.” 
Sweet word after word spills from his lips and you listlessly lay there listening to him go on and on, painting a picture of what your future lives together would look like, and before you can catch yourself from falling deeper into his trap, your mind betrays you and images flash across your vision and you unconsciously draw even nearer to Akaashi, cuddling into his body affectionately as picture perfect scenes of you braiding a little girl’s hair while Akaashi teaches a little boy how to play volleyball flicker across your imagination. And when Akaashi feels you gently place your hand on top of his hand that’s still cradling your stomach practically sloshing with the amount of liquid he’s gifted you with tonight, he knows he’s got you hook, line, and sinker. 
That night the two of you fall asleep, dreaming about the perfect life you’re going to have together.
2K notes · View notes
babesonly · 3 years
Text
fic recs 2.0!
hello kings (gn) ive got significantly more fic than last time which means this is gonna be a little more organized than the last post bc it is much longer <3 categories in order are non casefic canonverse, casefic/roadtrip fic, finale fixits, endverse, non supernatural aus, and then non destiel ones. titles will be in bold for my favs! also within each category they’re in order from shortest to longest
Canonverse
I’m a tulip in a cup by godtiering (1.2k)
I worry that I never really came back from hell. I wonder why, if I got remade by heaven, I’m still the same screwed up kid that I always was.
Sometimes I worry I’m not into women at all.
"Guess not,” he looks at his shoes.
a REALLY good fic that’s basically just a look inside dean’s head during my bloody valentine do not read this looking for a fun time but please do read it
on vessels by flightsofangels (1.9k)
“You know,” Cas mutters into Dean’s bare skin. “When I was still… an angel, I used to dream that I would take you as my vessel.”
hello consumehimnatural fans!!!!! read newt’s fic right now its incredible
dean winchester is not a nicholas sparks protagonist by microcomets (1.9k)
Dean fell in love with Cas the way you fall asleep--slowly, and then all at once. Or some other hackneyed and trite bullshit. God, this is embarrassing.
dean is in LOVE. he’s also a disaster who keeps staring at cas’ hands. sigh
Stay by aeli_kindara (2.5k)
Coda to 13.06 (Tombstone). In which Castiel reckons with the aftermath of Dean's grief.
hello fellow widow arc fans <3 click here to see cas find out abt the events of advanced thanatology !
walking on a string by swordfishtrombones (2.7k)
Between the doomed offensive at the Firmament and the impending retreat from the ravaged northeast border, Castiel left camp long enough to answer one of Dean Winchester's prayers.
S6 DEAN IS A WAR WIFE. been really into early seasons deancas lately and this one is very good. god
the flesh of the mighty by Mudprophet (2.7k)
Ezekiel 39:17 "you shall eat the flesh of the mighty and drink the blood of the princes of the earth."
MY GOD. anyone who saw the @autisticandroids​ purgatory cannibalism talk and was interested read this right now. also anyone who enjoyed nbc hannibal OR raw (2016). if romantic cannibalism is remotely aligned with your interests read this right now. god
Sam Winchester, Ally At Law by alittleduck (3.3k)
Sam was pretty sure he could read every single gay friendly guide to coming out or supporting queer family members ever written and literally none of them would even imply that arguing with gay people that they were actually just homophobic constituted as "ally behavior". However, Sam was equally sure that none of those book authors had found themselves accidentally watching their brother get pounded by an Angel of the Lord at 9 am on Tuesday, so Sam was pretty sure he might actually still have the higher ground. Now, if only Jack would stop trying to bond with Dean using gay slurs long enough for Sam to convince everyone of that, he might just be able to cobble together some remnant of sanity or, failing that, dignity.
Or, the one where Sam desperately wants to invent PFLAG but Dean won't stop teaching Jack gay slurs
JACK VOICE HEY COCKSUCKERS. 
hummed low by microcomets (3.3k)
Dean pulls the Impala over at a cider barn about thirty miles out; doesn't really think about it, just sees the hokey orange lettering off the roadside and lets his hands guide the Impala off the interstate with gravel spitting under the wheels.
they get a nice day out together and dean has a gay crisis and it’s written beautifully mwah
Vena Amoris and Other Old-Fashioned Bullshit by pyrebi (3.9k)
In which angelic marriage bonds are apparently stupidly easy to trigger, Cas wages multidimensional war in Heaven, Dean can't catch a break like ever, Sam rather enjoys being a dick, love saves the day, and nobody consummates anything.
sometimes i think about this fic and it hits that at this point dean and cas would have been married for more than a year. cas my beloved...
an exploration of gender; angelic by sometimeswelose (4k)
Castiel's true form is made of electromagnetic radiation. He has spent the majority of his life, if you really want to add it all up and average the whole thing out, as a wavelength of celestial intent.
The thing about being made of light: it's light in the physics sense of the word. Castiel's waves are gamma, x-ray, micro, and radio. He's visible light too, of course, a visible light so intense that it is blinding to most humans.
hello trans cas community <3 he’s literally trans he was assigned genderless and then went hm actually i will be a man! love of my life
Some Boys are Sleeping Alone by prosopopeya (4.2k)
This isn't something that's okay, not for him, but it chases him through the years until it turns into something he can't -- doesn't want to deny. 
ohhh deans tenuous relationship with his sexuality my beloved...
love. worship. consummation. consumption. by redeyedwrath (4.3k)
ConsumehimNatural (copyright marcusantonius) the Series!
These are all snapshots centered around the idea of you know. Hunger in Supernatural. Both carnal hunger and other kinds. Fics are shown in semi-chronological order but this series is generally nebulously early seasons.
for ANYONE who is a consumehimnaturual this is required reading it is INCREDIBLE and gorgeous and very visceral and i am so very obsessed with it. thank you redeyedwrath for enabling my brainrot
the reach of human sense by perilously (4.5k)
“You know what Jimmy Novak looked like. You think he was beautiful—gorgeous, hot, all of it. It’s him. Not me. This isn’t my face.”
“But,” Dean says. He doesn’t know where he’s going with it. Just that Cas’ face is right there, brows drawn together and cheekbones gleaming in the lamplight. It’s a face that’s made his heart skip probably a couple hundred beats collectively since they met.
And it used to belong to someone else.
this one is just very nice <3 cas gets uncomfortable w dean calling him attractive since dean has never seen his trueform and they work it out
Down in the River by Ias (4.7k)
Alone in Purgatory and hunted by Leviathans, Castiel finds himself praying to the one person who can't hear him.
cas i love you <3 cas alone in purgatory praying to dean bc dean is the only thing he still worships i love you so much
Creature of Habit by trinityofone (5.1k)
The more you love someone, the more you want to kill them. Or: How Cas developed some bad habits, and Dean coped surprisingly well.
written in s5 when cas was depowered and completely nails the later seasons bitchy husbands dynamic it’s very good and fun <3
sink by crackers4jenn (5.4k)
"Where to?" A 9.06 coda.
very bittersweet very well written and also canon compliant so do not go into this one looking for a happy ending but i DO recommend it it’s very good
Sensational by castiowl (6.1k)
“When I first came to earth, it was advised that we temper the senses bound to our vessels. They were a distraction, we were told. An antiquated form of experiencing existence that would hinder our ability to complete our missions, whatever that may be. My true form can better facilitate these experiences. What you would recognize as heightened senses of sight and sound, among other things.”
Or, how Dean helps Cas experience all five human senses for the first time in one night.
early seasons deancas man. i love the sound part i love dean being so worried about doing a good job with this. god. read this please
Something to Protect by Sass_Master (6.2k)
Dean’s violent reaction to being unexpectedly woken has become something of a running joke among them, but Castiel can’t help but look past it to the underlying cause. It makes him ache to think that Dean feels so unsafe, so persecuted, before he’s even fully conscious.
Secretly, Castiel has been determined to work on that, to ease Dean into awareness in a less jarring way, smooth away one of the many stresses that follow him even in sleep. Now’s as good a time as any to try.
oh to sleep more soundly in the presence of someone you love...this fic is very nice i enjoyed it a lot
all this and heaven too by ftmsteverogers (7k)
“Hey,” Dean said. “I’m not ashamed of you, okay?”
Cas raised skeptical eyes to meet his.
“I mean it,” Dean insisted.
“I understand you mean it,” Cas said. “But I don’t think it’s any better if you’re only ashamed of yourself.”
hello trans dean community here is 7k of trans dean having to deal with his internalized homophobia now that he’s sleeping with cas <3 it is SO good
The wilderness. by orange_crushed (8k)
He takes a shower and the pressure is not especially good, but it doesn’t matter. It’s warm and he stands under the spray a long time. Human skin, he knows, constantly renews itself, shedding the dead cells of the epidermis. He wonders how long it will take until he is an entirely new person, until every cell on his surface is a new one. He looks at his hands under the water. It might take less than a month.
this might be the only post 9x03 fic on here with a happy ending actually? plenty of good melancholy leading up to it though <3 canon divergent after 9x03 though which means no 9x06 fanfiction gap but it is absolutely worth reading
till the juice runs by deathbanjo (8.4k)
Apparently whoever drew up the venn diagram of Dean’s sex life decided the circle labelled ‘good sex’ and the one labelled ‘sex with men’ should be kept far apart.
hello this one is SO funny dean finally gets comfortable enough with his bisexuality to start having sex with men and it goes so very bad every time so sorry about your shitty choices beloved </3
First Date by aeli_kindara (8.9k)
“We should go on a date. You and me.”
Castiel wishes he could see Dean’s face. He wishes he had any idea what to say.
“I’m asking you out, Cas.”
this one is very sweet i liked it a lot <3 good refreshing little fic where they just get to have a nice evening together
Entertaining Strangers by cadignan (9k)
Dean settles on to his side, lying in the bed facing Castiel. “So you had sex without me and you bit all my moves. I think I deserve to hear about it, at least. What was her name?”
op im in love with you. premise is established relationship deancas and cas mentions he did have sex before dean and not only that it was a threesome. good for him <3 this fic is cas describing the story of what led up to the threesome and what happened during it while dean interrupts regularly. incredible
the shape you take by noviembre (10k)
“What?” Dean says, fake-offended. “I’d be hot as a girl, you know I would.”
And this is when he really, really should have stopped talking. When he shouldn't have whipped back around and asked, “Cas, if I was a woman, you’d fuck me, right?”
Because if he hadn’t said that, then he wouldn’t have had to deal with this:
Cas, meeting his eyes, forehead wrinkles all smoothed out like there’s nothing to be confused about anymore. Cas with something at the corner of his mouth that might barely be called a smile.
Cas saying, calmly and without hesitation, “Yes, Dean.”
--
Dean Winchester fucks around and, with the inadvertent help of some witches, Finds Out.
dean winchester your gender is diabolical. this fic is insane and its the only thing that matters actually. dean fully convinced its normal and straight to think about being a woman so you can fuck your male friend. incredible. op im proposing to you
Sinnerman by a_good_soldier (10k)
Dean listens to Nina Simone, reads Anne Carson, and makes out with a dude (sort of).
yall want to read about dean realizing he’s in love with a man as a direct result of learning to better respect women right?
you’re fooling yourself by cowboydeanwinchester (13k)
Dean Winchester and Castiel retire from hunting to raise baby Jack. Dean struggles to allow himself the things he truly wants.
Jack is two, Castiel and Dean are idiots, and Sam's gotta solve everyone's problems.
love a married couple who doesn’t know they’re married <3 everyone say thank you sam for bullying dean 
The Girlfriend Experience by rageprufrock (15k)
While it's not like Dean hasn't had a couple of truly regrettable hit-and-runs in his sexual history, this is probably the saddest fucking thing that has ever happened to him.
a classic for good fucking reason. we’ve all talked about dean thinking holding hands is too gay after having just had gay sex but my personal favorite was sam accusing dean of cheating on cas because dean bought condoms. incredible
No Kingdom To Come by domesticadventures (16k)
“We should fuck,” Dean says.
Cas looks up from where he sits on his bed, hair still damp from the shower, frowning as he places a finger on the page of his book to mark where he left off.
There are a million things Cas could say here; Dean has rehearsed them. After lunch, his restlessness had given way to a vague panic, a dread that matched his every step and crept along with him from room to room. Eventually, he had returned to his bedroom and spent the rest of the afternoon pacing back and forth, playing out all the possible scenarios. When Cas asks him Why? or Are you being serious? or when he sighs and says, in that way he has, Dean, he knows exactly what he’s going to do. He’s going to shrug casually, like he isn’t invested in the answer, like he isn’t desperate for an outlet, and say, Why not? He’s going to raise an eyebrow and say, What, are you not interested? He’s going to crowd into Cas’ personal space, he’s going to shove himself right up in there and whisper Cas against his ear.
Instead, Cas says, carefully, “Okay.”
literally the only quarantine fic i’ve ever bothered to read in any fandom and completely worth it it’s SO good. they become fwb and dean has an existential crisis and he keeps bringing up meaninglessness and death during sex
Bodies by Speary (18k)
It was a secret they never acknowledged even with each other. It would change everything, end everything if either of them ever dropped the act. So they became very good at acting, at keeping up the lie that gave them what they wanted. Even if that lie involved constantly seeking out temporary, consenting female vessels, Cas would do it. He told himself it was worth it for Dean. He just hoped that he could stop wanting more, or maybe one day Dean might stop pretending that he wasn't really sleeping with Cas every time.
i don’t even have anything to add tbh if that summary did not immediately make you click we are very different this fic is incredible. god. fellas do you ever make yourself a woman so you can fuck the man you love without him having to talk about it or confront his sexuality
it’s such a mystery (the way you know me) by fleeceframe (20k)
So the man crouching in front of Castiel is named Dean. He wonders if that’s supposed to mean something to him.
“Cas must’ve got hit with something earlier. He just dropped like a sack of fucking potatoes a minute ago. By the time I was checking on him, he had already woken up again, but now he doesn’t fucking know who we are.”
“I’m right here you know,” Castiel says testily.
Sam’s eyes are wide even as his eyebrows are furrowed, and he looks between Dean and Castiel again.
“What do you remember, Cas?”
“Firstly, that I’m not Cas. I don’t know who Cas is, but it’s not me. I don’t know who either of you are, either."
or the one where castiel is hit with a memory curse that makes him forget the winchester brothers and is stunned to find out he has a family... also why can't he stop thinking about dean?
BEST amnesia fic oh my god. cas my beloved you deserve the world. everyone read this that is not a request.
More Than Ever by Sass_Master (20k)
Dean’s getting some pancakes together for breakfast when Cas saunters in after a run.
He’s trying to focus on whisking batter, unfairly distracted by Cas a few feet away, breathing heavily and shining with perspiration. Dean’s been painfully aware for a long time that Cas is pretty easy on the eyes, but he’s used to seeing Cas buttoned-up and unflappable, looking straight-laced in a stiff oxford and an unflattering trenchcoat.
Now Cas is sweating, Dean’s borrowed t-shirt clinging to his skin, flushed from exertion and Dean really can’t deal with that in his kitchen right now.
this entire series is really good i enjoyed it a lot, i’m just putting this one specifically on the list bc the rest of the series is very explicit and this is really good as a standalone for anyone who wouldn’t be into the rest of the series!!
Being Dean Winchester by Anonymous (20k)
"You should show me some respect. I dragged you out of hell. I can throw you back in."
Who the fuck was this bitchy "warrior of God" doing talking to him like that? Fuck Cas-tee-el and his dumbass trench coat and abrasive motherfucking attitude.
Dean was done with this shit.
***
Wherein a monster of the week steals the essence of Castiel's vessel, so he must use Dean, recently raised from hell, as a vessel instead.
it is at this point i realize that there are more fics than i expected there to be on this list that involves a threesome with only two people/using the presence of a female body to act like what’s happening is heterosexual. deangirlism is a disease 
I Shall Not Want by domesticadventures (20k)
His grace is burning out, and the wasteland it leaves inside him becomes an echo chamber for all the memories, all the fear and doubt and self-loathing he's collected over the years. Things said and done hound him on endless repeat until he's convinced they’ll break through his skin and fill the silence of the bunker.
His head is killing him, and he sits hunched over an open book, not really reading, just digging his fingers into his skull and praying nothing slips through the cracks.
this one is GORGEOUS i love it so so much. dean and cas are both struggling so much to get by and they’re trying to support each other but fucking it up and they have to grow together and learn to cope with the fact that this is where their lives are and they fall in love i need everyone to read this
To Boldly Go by 8daysuntiltheapocalypseiguess (24k)
Title: Just One of Those Things Author: Impala67 Series: TOS Rating: M Summary: Four years into their five-year mission, and all the planets start to look the same.
In which Dean is not Gene Roddenberry, but he does write Star Trek fanfiction.
mx winchester writing star trek fanfiction to process his own trauma <3 this is a wip but it’s SO good and i also have not consumed a single piece of star trek media so it IS definitely readable to anyone who isn’t a star trek fan. please read this
where the weeds take root by deathbanjo (30k)
“Are you happy? Y’know. Just—being here,” Dean says, gesturing to the yard with his beer bottle. “Being with—I mean, you used to fight in celestial wars and—and save the world. Now you’re growing vegetables and talking about chickens.”
this is on here just for the 1.5 people who were putting off this one like i did for no reason. it’s extremely good and it is just gentle. i enjoyed it a lot
Heroes for Ghosts by pantheon_of_discord (42k)
After Sam and Dean are arrested, Castiel is left alone and scrambling to find them. He knows they’re locked away in a government facility, and he’s still able to hear their prayers, but no matter how he tries Castiel can’t seem to track them. He chases leads and even attempts to hunt on his own, but Mary is AWOL, Crowley refuses to help, and Castiel’s options are running out.
Weeks pass, Castiel’s hope dwindles, and through it all Dean prays, keeping them connected. His voice is comforting, frustrating, and occasionally annoying, but in his solitude Castiel comes to cherish it. But then one day, without warning, Dean stops praying, and Castiel is forced to confront some uncomfortable truths about his feelings.
yall ever wonder what it would’ve been like if the sam and dean arrest storyline in s12 was interesting? yeah <3
Teaching Poetry to Fish by aeli_kindara (52k)
In which Castiel teaches poetry to fish. Also, himself. Also, eventually, Dean.
(A series-long story, diverging slightly from canon after S14.)
cas learning about humanity through poetry before dean and thats what led to him developing enough emotion to be lobotomized....cas i love you so much
Emergence by ellispark (58k)
Something’s been missing from Dean’s life for the past three years, a void left after a hunt gone terribly wrong. He often feels a sense of longing with no discernible cause, a need to talk to someone who isn’t there.
A call from an acquaintance leads Dean to James Novak, a man who disappeared more than a decade ago, and suddenly Dean gets the feeling he’s found what he’s been missing. But James isn’t really James — he’s the angel Castiel, who’s wanted by angels, demons and hunters alike. And he may be at the center of the storm that wrecked Dean’s life all those years ago.
another cool amnesia fic!! for unknown reasons everyone forgot cas three years ago but cas didn’t forget anything. cas deserves so much love and support. god
a turn of the earth by microcomets (95k)
Dean’s your typical half-orphaned, monster-killing 22-year-old until a trenchcoated stranger crashes into his back windshield one September night, claiming he’s an angel that knows him from the future and that he’s on the run.
Frigging fantastic.
(Or, in which Castiel gets stuck in Dean’s timeline preseries and Dean kind of hates it—until he doesn’t.)
cas getting to meet and fall in love with pre hell dean just as much as he loves the dean he already knows oh my GOD. i love this fic so much. turn of the earth my beloved
Crossing Lines by sometimeswelose (122k)
Two Deans, one Cas - it's not as sexy as it sounds
Or
An ethics lesson from Hell
Or
The one where Dean from the past meets Dean in the present. They're not sure they like each other very much.
deans intense self hatred vs cas’ unwavering love for every version of dean oh my GOD also this is a wip fair warning but it’s so worth waiting for updates i’m having such a great time with this one i cannot wait to see how it gets ended
Plot Holes by saltyfeathers (160k)
Of course it wasn’t over after the apocalypse.
There was season six. Then there was season seven. Against all expectations, there was season eight. There were the alphas and purgatory, and then the Leviathans, and then the angels fell. Enter season nine. Loose threads Metatron, Abaddon, and Crowley have to be tied up. Sam, Dean, and Cas have to try to tie them while at the same time dealing with their evolving relationships and newfound graceless states.
Amidst all the chaos, someone has started publishing the Supernatural novels again. Convinced there’s something amiss in the pages, Charlie starts her own quest to suss out the truth behind the Winchester Gospels.
With the help of various faces, old and new, they must now not only deal with the typical runs of demons and recently fallen angels, but also reconcile the battles raging inside themselves, as the fate of the world, once again, quite literally lays in the palm of their hands.
saltyfeathers said i WILL make the plot holes in this show mean something because the showrunners are sure as shit never gonna adress them ! and i thank them for it bc this was a really cool read
Casefic/Roadtrip Fic
Deprived Of Every Planet by KelpietheThundergod (9k)
Dean's breathing is audible in the scant space between them, irregular. The motel room is dark, pale blue shadows falling in through the gaps in the blinds. Throwing a pattern of uneven white stripes over the bunched up covers. Over Dean's fingers twisted in the sheets. One half of him in shadow, softened by the dark. The heat of his skin. The tremble of him under Castiel's touch.
He caresses a hand over Dean's chest, slowly. Dean's mouth falls open, his body arching into Castiel's touch. Castiel stops over Dean's heart. Through the fever of his desire, he rejoices about the wonder of experiencing another's heartbeat through one's own senses.
Dean gasps, but then he turns his face away and towards the dark. Eyes closed tight and brows furrowed like something is hurting him.
Castiel stills.
“Dean?”
the case is background on this one but it Does take place over the course of a case so im putting it here. god touchstarved dean trying so hard to work through his shit for cas head in my hands i love this fic so much
before and after breakfast by spocklee (10k)
The monster of the week is a ghost who hates meat, alcohol, and feeling yourself. Guess who it is during the commercials.
chapter 2 of this one.....god. dean and cas you are both so unwell <3 i love everything abt this fic everyone read it now
we shovel all the ashes out by xylodemon (15k)
Dean’s always known things were headed this way. He just figured getting dragged under would be cleaner and easier than jumping in feet-first.
fics that make you go Oh they love each other...also there’s lesbians in it literally what else could you want.
thunder road by dothraki_shieldmaiden (20k)
After Chuck is defeated and the Winchesters settle into life without God, Dean Winchester is bored.
OR: Dean and Cas take a road trip and figure out some stuff along the way.
this fic is just like. it’s kind! this fic is kind it’s just a pleasant experience and i enjoyed it thoroughly. they’re in love and it’s good
Suck It, Judy Garland by GlitterDwarf, midrashic (20k)
It had to be St. Louis. Or, the one where Sam and Cas get fake married for a case, and Dean loses his mind.
actually im gonna defend dean here imagine youre dean and cas gives what definitely sounded like a deathbed love confession while making eye contact with you and then immediately afterwards fake dates your brother. who among us would not have been a bitch about this
best friends without benefits by lizbobjones (20k)
It’s nearing three a.m. and they’ve been on the road a long time. Sam’s been asleep in the back seat since eleven. Giving up and handing the wheel over to Cas and letting the guy who doesn’t sleep drive had seemed like a good idea.
the premise of this fic is so funny. cas voice dean you want to fuck me so bad it makes you look stupid. everyone read this
the taste of gravel in the mouth by deathbanjo (22k)
This is what Cas gave up Heaven for: greasy diner food, shitty motel rooms with even shittier cable, long car rides spent in complete silence except for the same six tapes playing over and over again, and a burnt-out husk of a man who can barely hold a conversation anymore.
alt version of getting rid of the mark of cain, the darkness never happens. this one is VERY heavy but it’s so good and it has a hopeful ending. ive read this one twice and loved it both times
Someone Who’s Feeling For Me by ellispark (45k)
Dean sees her for the first time in nearly six years in some no-name town in Idaho, and it's panic at first sight.
Lisa Braeden, the one woman Dean ever actually had a shot at a real life with, back from where he buried her in his mind. And her hand is on Cas's arm like it's no big deal, like it belongs there. Cas, Dean's dorky, sweet, badass, angelic best friend, and he's just standing there next to Lisa and not moving her hand away.
Dean feels the jealousy rising, and it's not directed where he expected it to be. Because it takes this exact moment for Dean to realize he's in love with his best friend. He's in love with his best friend, and Lisa is looking at Cas like he's the best thing since automatic rifles, and Dean is utterly fucked.
hello op please contact me. please contact me and let me see the inside of your brain. this fic was an unparalleled experience and everyone should also go through it. i love it so very much
Bumper Cars by mansikka (111k)
Two teenagers are missing from an abandoned carnival, and there’s enough to raise suspicion that their disappearance involves a ghost. Dean, Sam, and Cas arrive in town to investigate, though what they find leads them away from those teenagers, and on the trail of a ghost story that churns up things from their past.
Can newly-human Cas, and Dean, with the help of shipper!Sam, work out the mystery behind the abandoned carnival and its ghost, and along the way, figure out the riddle that is them?
one of my absolute fav case fics it forces dean to confront some aspects of johns parenting and work through some shit and also him and cas fall in love and it’s really well done. love this one a lot <3
Finale Fix-its/Finale Denial
Sorry Jimmy by K_K_TiBal (2.1k)
Based on the tumblr textpost:
jellydeans: so are cas and jimmy novak just up in heaven existing at the same time katebushstandean: #jimmy moves to heaven timbuku so that dean stops trying to make out with him every time they run into each other at the heaven grocery store
this one is just extremely funny. local midwestern heterosexual man is forced to play relationship counselor to the dumbest gay people in existence because one of them wore his face
Dean Winchester Really Needs To Make Some Gay Friends by AreYouReady (2.2k)
“Like, I’m trying to think if I’ve had, I don’t know, crushes. If I ever had a gay thing before you came along and just didn’t notice,” Dean said.
Cas suddenly looked down, and away from Dean. If Dean didn’t know better, he would swear Cas looked guilty.
“What is it, Cas?”
“You have had several… gay things before.” Cas still wouldn’t look at him.
“What? When? How come you know this better than I do?”
There was no way the answer to this question wasn’t funny as hell.
dean learning about gay ppl via the memories of dean smith...incredible.
tiny difference (between ending and starting to begin) by sunforgrace (2.4k)
Sometimes Dean catches Cas staring at the sky.
It doesn’t happen often. Not when Dean’s around to tell, anyway. But often enough that he starts to notice.
Eventually Dean starts to recognize the pattern.
Cas just doesn’t watch the sky. He watches the birds.
Chuck is gone, Cas is human, and the world is safe. In the quiet aftermath Dean and Castiel find each other again.
i really don’t have much to say abt this one it is just very good and they love each other so much
Bring Home by cenotaphy (3.8k)
Dean's phone doesn't ring on the drive back to the Bunker, but that's okay. Because—well, maybe Cas lost his cell, what with getting shuffled back and forth between a cosmic void dimension and all. And anyway, Dean doesn't want this conversation to happen over the phone, he wants to—he wants to talk to Cas face-to-face. They should talk face-to-face.
Dean will tell him—
Dean doesn't know what he'll tell Cas. Dean is, in fact, terrified by how utterly and completely he does not know what he'll say to Cas.
cas being forced to face the consequences of sending the risky text that was despair <3
dean’s coworkers vs the heteronormative agenda by cowboydeanwinchester (4.1k)
Dean started working at a local auto repair shop in Lebanon, Kansas about a year ago. His coworkers don't know much about him. Except that he has a wife. Or maybe he doesn't. But he has a kid. Who is either a toddler or a high schooler. Who is either named Jack or Sammy. He also might have a best friend named Cas, but that also might be his wife.
Truth is nobody knows what to make of Dean.
obsessed w people not knowing a single fucking thing about dean because he talks so much and never explains anything. this fic is SO funny
Enhanced Extraction Techniques by goldenraeofsun (5.8k)
The Empty takes Meg’s shape, Samandriel’s, Duma’s, every one of the thousands of angels Cas killed up in heaven. But in the middle of lecturing Cas in the form of Balthazar, it explodes in a burst of light and sound.
Dean Winchester stands in the aftermath.
the empty playing mind games on an awake cas bc it can’t put him to sleep is a thing i like a lot and this is very very good 
Speak Silence No More by rea_sunshine (8.1k)
When Dean imagined this moment, it went like this:
Dean bursts into the Empty—guns blazing, chin high, righteous anger coursing through him. No matter what form his plans and fantasies and whiskey-drunk-whispered-promises took, he is always, always successful. When he imagined it, he was finally the hero Cas deserved.
The reality of the moment is this:
It’s fucking cold.
dean and cas STILL managing to not communicate with each other properly after the confession is so funny to me and this fic does it really well. also i like that a human being in the empty, where humans do NOT belong, had some like. consequences
my heart is a compass by lagaudiere (10k)
“There you are,” the Empty says, in Dean’s voice. It’s cold, like Dean’s eyes are cold, his expression set in contempt. It’s the expression Cas feared, he realizes, all the times he thought about saying it. Revulsion. It makes him feel sick in the way that goes beyond physical, here where there is nothing physical left.
The moment before it happened had been so sweet it covered up all the hurt. For years, Cas had been holding back those words, biting down on his tongue to keep from saying them. And now he had said it, and he knew that it was good, knew that it was worth it. But on the other side there is only this.
--
In the Empty, Cas dreams of his regrets, until someone comes looking for him.
one of thee best dean rescues cas from the empty fics out there i love the way his memories are written i love how many of them were ones that this fic came up with to give me new things to have brainworms over instead of just making me more fixated on He Watched Him Rake Leaves than i already am
killing time by orestespdf (11k)
It's been four years since Dean saved Cas from the Empty and confessed his feelings in return, and in their Vermont lakehouse, the retired couple is now learning how to heal. One morning, Dean gives Cas a haircut.
(A character study of Castiel.)
perfect fic perfect fic no notes no complaints they love each other so much and now dean is giving cas a haircut and they’re spending the day together. god.
and every time we kiss, i swear i can fly by knameless (14k)
Every time, Dean tells himself it’s the last.
--
aka, twelve times dean and cas kiss.
a just boy best friends kiss for every season <3 mwah
for which no words exist by MediaWhore (14k)
'a prayer for which no words exist' // richard siken
"Dear Cas who art in my bathtub, give me the strength to be honest about how I feel. For your sake and for mine. Forgive me all the times I wasn’t in the past, all the words I should have said but didn’t. And please stay. Please stay with me when all is said and done. Amen. "
Dean rescues a newly human Cas from the Empty. That's the easy step.
mediawhore i am in LOVE with you oh my god this fic. this fic. dean taking care of cas after rescuing him dean wrapping cas in a blanket oh my GOD
swimming with the fish pond fish by februyuri (17k)
Some time between Dean bleeding out on a makeshift hook in a barn in Ohio and Sam making marshmallows on his funeral pyre, Dean was brought back to life. By Castiel. Again. Dean agreed to it if only to give Jack time to work out the glitches up top. So, now Dean’s back in the land of the living and things are ... actually good, for once.
Or, as good as they can be when demons are attacking Earth, Dean’s failing to get over why he died in the first place, and Cas is suddenly, inexplicably taking every opportunity to casually tell Dean that he loves him.
this is a wip! but it is so good and so worth the read i love it a lot and am very excited for the last chapter. it IS pretty heavy though dean has a LOT to work through
looking like a true survivor (feeling like a little kid) by courfeyrac (20k)
"Jack’s a clever kid—has been ever since he was born, maybe even before that—but Dean’s pretty sure he hasn’t figured out where they’re going yet. And Dean’s… Dean’s excited about it. He remembers planning surprises for Sammy when they were little—saving up quarters and sneaking off to the arcade the year he turned seven, or slipping a book Dean had seen Sammy admiring into his jacket before sprinting out of the store the year he turned twelve. There was only so much Dean could give him back then, hindered by lack of finances and transportation and a father who paid attention. Now, though, Dean’s got a wallet full of cash, a tank full of gas, and the freedom to give his kid the kind of birthday he deserves."
Or, it's Jack's fourth birthday, and the kid wants to go to Build-A-Bear.
EVERYONE READ THIS RIGHT NOW. that is not a request this fic undid me. oh my god. oh my god. they’re a family and they’re going to build a bear and they love each other. oh my god. also no it isn’t a baby jack fic he is 4 and he is also alcal
what’s missing is found (our souls can exhale now) by sobsicles (27k)
It's not the first time Claire has ever gone missing. It is, however, the first time Kaia panics about it. Dean's dragged into the mess, but he soon finds that it's the best thing that could have happened to him.
~~~
"But have you ever just met someone and maybe it wasn't from the first moment, maybe it was after all these other moments that meant more than you ever expected them to, and it seems like your soul just—just—" Kaia makes a helpless gesture with her hands, pushing out, and she breathes out loudly. "Like it can finally exhale. And that person isn't guaranteed to make you happy, but they're—they're important. You just know it, you can't even escape it, you can't let them go. Ever met someone like that, Dean?"
"I—" Dean halts, his mouth hanging open. He's looking at Kaia, who's looking at him, and his heart is fluttering in his throat like a caged bird aching to soar again. His mind threatens to spiral out of control, but he focuses, swallowing hard. "Yeah. Um. I—yeah, I have."
deancas AND dreamhunter we love to see it also dean DOES smoke weed with kaia and apologizes for pulling a gun on her what more could you want in a fic
Command Me To Be Well by prospopeya (28k)
Dean did a lot of thinking about when and how he would get Cas back. Months of it, actually, stretching into a year, because while Sam and Eileen were settling into their new lives, Dean was stuck. He was stuck in a faraway corner of the bunker, dark and empty and hollow, ringing with the sound of a vibrating phone.
So when he falls to his knees in that same room, exhausted, hurting, breathless, and he feels a hand on his shoulder and looks up to see Cas, he realizes that he doesn't have a single clue about what to do now. Getting Cas out had been easy--actually, it'd been the opposite of that--but the planning of it, the methodical desperation of one attempt after the other had been a familiar rhythm. It'd been soothing almost, solid, something to focus on that wasn't Cas's eyes, watery and jubilant in a way Dean hadn't ever seen that up close on anyone, let alone Cas.
And now Cas is pulling him to his feet, and Dean's stumbling, and he instinctually grabs Cas's arm, and his hand lights up with a fire that he isn't prepared for.
"Hello, Dean."
oh post despair lack of communication....oh dean refusing to work through his feelings...this fic is incredible i love it everyone who enjoys dean doing everything in his power to avoid talking about feelings up to and including having sex with the guy who’s in love with him multiple times should read this
break the skin (to break the barriers) by sobsicles (29k)
The first time she meets him, he's nothing more than an almost-missed appointment.
SOBSICLES TATTOO FIC MY BELOVED. dean grieving and getting tattoos and it turns into tattoo therapy. im SO in love with mitzi it’s insane. requires some suspension of disbelief for how long a tattoo takes but it’s an incredible fic and an unparalleled experience. sobsicles does not miss
ascend by quiettewandering (53k)
Something in the world is wrong.
Demon activity is rising where mysterious black substance oozes and unusual ecological events are shaking the world. Dean, grief hanging on his shoulders, restlessly searches for answers that might lead him to the Empty… and to Cas.
But what Chuck wrote can’t be undone. The narrative thread pulls Dean along, forcing him to comply. Because once a story already has an ending, it can’t be rewritten.
Or can it?
SUPER cool concept i liked this a lot i’m pretty sure everyone’s read it already but just in case someone hasn’t you absolutely should
oh sooner or later it all comes down to faith by sobsicles (62k)
Getting used to Heaven is something of a marvel. It ain't perfect, and Dean thinks he'd hate it if it was, which is probably why it isn't.
~~~
"You don't understand," Dean whispers, exhaling shakily. "I know you don't, because even I don't. The instant you were gone, I wanted you back. Cas, I wanted you back. I wanted—I wanted—"
Cas stares at him, searching his face. After a moment, his own face falls slack, eyes widening just so. "Oh," he breathes out.
Dean wants to be furious that Cas has figured it out before he has—whatever it is—but he's not even that surprised. Cas knows him too well, always has, even more than Dean knows himself. He's been kicking Dean in the goddamn teeth with how deeply he understands him, even about the things Dean doesn't, ever since they first met. You don't think you deserve to be saved, that's what Cas had said. All bundled up in impossibilities and power, this being that looked at Dean Winchester and knew every single inch of him, as if he had a right to each part.
"What?" Dean grits out.
"I love you, too."
the ONLY heaven fic. i do not read heaven fics bc i refuse to budge in my finale denialism i refuse to read fic where it is accepted that dean dies. i was hesitant to read this but god im glad i did it was so good. literally the best possible outcome of dean dying
Endverse
final fantasy. by orange_crushed (1.9k)
“If I’d actually been born human, would I have gotten sick like everyone else? Would I be running around gnawing on the neighbors?” Castiel tilts his head up and even from here Dean can see the black ring of his pupils, wide and dark as dead stars. He’s high as fuck and he’s been loading the guns for forty-five minutes. He stares into the space where Dean is. He smiles and shows his teeth. “Maybe you’d have already put a bullet in my head.”
"This is why you don’t lead storytime anymore," Dean says. "This kind of shit."
endverse last night on earth fics are something that can be so personal actually. god
The Last Song by Moorishflower (3.5k)
The very last song is the Song of Solomon, and Castiel sings it only for Dean. Set in "The End."
this is like. pre endverse and the tone is so like. wistful? is the best word ive got? it’s gorgeous i love it but fair warning there is graphic description of like. viscera and infected wounds
to think that we could stay the same by cipherwriter (6.5k)
cas has all he needs; himself, his creation, and enough power to continue this cycle for a long time. he's fine. dean wants to take care of him anyway.
oh my GOD this one is good it’s based off the thing of how originally endverse cas was supposed to be just sitting in a room killing and resurrecting the same cockroach over and over. very bittersweet at some points i love it a lot, do not read it if youre looking for something happy though lmao
the first church at the end of the world by withbloodstainedclothingon (11k)
The angels don’t eat the brain. Only Croats do that.
this one is fucked but it’s incredible it contains very heavy and violent subject matter and cas is an Actual cult leader he doesn’t just have orgies it is SO well done and i had a great time reading it i recommend it very highly if the warnings sound like something you can stomach
Down to Agincourt by seperis (1.1 million. i know. yes it’s a wip)
There is no such thing as a guarantee when it comes to war.
The outcome's known. Why try? Return your rusty sword to battered sheath, bow your head and bend your stubborn knee. Why take the field when you cannot win the war? But Harry -- he went down to Agincourt.
PLEASE. i know the length is intimidating i KNOW it’s a very long fic but please. please read down to agincourt i am begging you. head in my HANDS this series is incredible.
Non Supernatural AUS
Long-Term Relationship by bendingsignpost (2.7k)
Castiel says, budging over to make room for Dean on the couch, “I thought we should have a serious talk about our relationship.”
Reflexively, Dean laughs.
Castiel does not.
“Uh, Cas... you know we’re not dating, right?”
look man it’s bendingsignpost okay. it’s bendingsignpost it’s good and it’s sweet and you should read it
One White Lie by komodobits (11k)
Castiel takes a deep breath and rings the doorbell. He doesn’t need to run through what he’s going to say – he’s already planned and edited and rehearsed it a thousand times. He is going to ask Dean Winchester out to dinner. If it’s not too forward, he’ll say, perfectly charming. You see, I’ve seen you around the neighbourhood and you always seem so earnest and I’d really like to get to know you bette— The door swings open, and Castiel panics.
He intends to excuse himself. He means to apologise and come back some other time. However, in a moment of blind fear, what comes out of his mouth instead are the words, “Could you spare a moment for Jesus Christ?”
do you ever pretend to be a jehovahs witness for months to hang out with the guy you like because you fucked up asking him out? yeah.
separate ways and sleeping dogs by sobsicles (53k)
Dean is three years sober when Cas comes back into town.
~~~
For a moment, they just stare at each other. Dean, once again, has to swallow the urge to offer to swallow something else. It's very hard to resist the gut-wrenching pull of want that hooks in his chest whenever he looks at Cas. And to think, he used to have him, used to be able to act on that want.
God, he's so fucking stupid.
Well, there's no point in kicking himself three years later for shit he can't change. He'll just sit right here and pretend that his fingers aren't twitching with the urge to reach out and touch. He can't do that anymore, and it's his own damn fault.
"Three years ago," Cas prompts.
Dean huffs a weak laugh. "Yeah. Eventful."
this fic hit me SO hard emotionally oh my god. don’t have much to say bc most of my thoughts on this fic are very personal but my god read this please
Everyone’s a Critic by Englandwouldfall (109k)
The one where uninspired chef Dean Winchester has a one night stand with the male (!) food critic who described the flavour of his garlic bread as 'closeted' and accidentally ends up dating him to try and prove that he's a kick ass chef, thank you very much.
(He may have a point about the 'closeted' thing).
this one is SO fun. dating the food critic who called your garlic bread closeted and lying about your career because you’re embarrassed and you want to redeem your food in his eyes but then you fall in love with him
Non Destiel Centric
gender? you mean that thing i have that pisses people off? by bigender dean winchester (homosexualitie) (946 words)
sam and dean paint each other's nails and dean abuses the technicalities of her gender. what more could you want? 
HELLO HE/SHE DEAN COMMUNITY oh my god the pure rush of euphoria reading this. oh my god. oh my god. 
the quiet road to a distant city by rottingbrains (1.2k)
Sam stares out the windshield again. They’re approaching a city, and she can see the lights in the distance. She’s past the danger zone, and she feels like the world around her reflects that in some way she can’t put into words- as if God is telling her that it’s okay. She did the right thing, and soon she will be past the lonely unknown and into the warm, forgiving light of acceptance. Or something. Come to think of it, the lights only look warm from far away, and she knows that the actual city will seem far less welcoming. Still. Best not to imagine the worst when it’s already going well.
required reading for transfem lesbian sam fans. fics that live in your ribcage to make your heart feel good
Four People Ruby Seduced & One She Actually Fell For (Or: Ruby's Epic Love Affair with Humanity in General and Sam in Specific) by tuesday (3.7k)
In which Ruby has a lot of sex, is not any kind of therapist that would be legal, and helps a few people out for her own reasons. (S4/S5 AU)
for everyone out there who enjoys ruby being a girlboss <3
Fractured Link by Trell (orphan_account) (5.5k)
Meg goes on, resolute despite the way Dean flinches, "He likes me. He likes me a lot, and I like him back, and that's probably good enough for both of us. But fuck me for saying so, Dean-o, he loves you, probably more than anything else on his daddy's green Earth, and you need to man up and give back what Clarence over there has been devoting to you for years."
this is meg/dean/cas which is not smth i really seek out but this was extremely good. set in s7 so it’s meg and dean and honey cas and it’s a lot of dean figuring his shit out and trying to forgive cas and i love meg a lot in this
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seungmoroll · 3 years
Text
Stray Kids Fraternity | Han Jisung
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Word count: 5,073
Genre & warnings: mentions of alcohol, cheating, cuss words, friends to lovers
A/n: this is the first post for my new series. if you guys like this, please be sure to check out the other parts of the series once they’re posted here: x
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        The last thing you wanted was to see your crappy ex, Younghoon, tonight. All you wanted was to let loose and have some fun, but no, his presence alone has ruined your night. You thought that when Chan, the president of the frat house next door, invited you to their party that you were going to have fun and get drunk, but instead of having fun, you’re just slightly buzzed and wallowing in self-pity.
        Honestly, there wasn’t even any reason for you to be like this. You were the one who broke up with him, but then again, he did break your heart by cheating on you with some random girl. However, seeing him with some other girl all over him made you so upset, that any part of you having fun that night was thrown out the window.
        Deciding that you needed another drink, you go into the kitchen to see what’s available. Too busy observing your options, you fail to notice Changbin walking up to you, “Hey there, looking for anything in particular?”
        “Something to make me forget?”
        Cocking an eyebrow at you, he asks you, “Rough day?”
        “Something like that.”
        “Don’t worry, I got just the right thing for you.” As Changbin makes this concoction for you, you watch as some random people play beer pong. You realize now that two of them are Jisung and Hyunjin, two guys that are part of the fraternity.
        “Here,” Changbin says as he hands you your cup. Taking a sip, you choke from the burn of your throat, “Gosh, Changbin, what the hell is in this?”
        “Uh, a little bit of everything?” Shrugging, you take another sip and let Changbin lead you back to the rest of the party. The two of you settle in a little nook, watching Jisung and Hyunjin win at beer pong.
        “Whoo! Another win for the boys!” Jisung cheers, “Who’s up for another round?”
        Shaking his head, Hyunjin backs away from Jisung, “I’m at my limit dude, I’m tapping out.”
        “But who’s gonna play with me now?” Jisung asks with a pout on his face. Eyes searching the room, Jisung spots Changbin, and a grin forms on his face, “Hyung!” Cutting in before Jisung can attempt to rope him in a match, Changbin says, “I’m not playing, Jisung.” Another pout forms on his face.
        Deciding to step out of your comfort zone, you volunteer yourself, “I’ll play.” This causes for the two men to look at you. “Well, well, look who’s stepping out of their comfort zone.”
        Rolling your eyes at Jisung, you playfully push him, “Yeah, yeah, whatever.” IT wasn’t like Jisung was a stranger to you. You have been invited over to their frat house plenty of times, and were well acquainted with everyone in the frat, heck, you could even call them your friends. Well after the large argument between you and Younghoon the night of your breakup, most of the guys, including Jisung, happened to hear everything, so you definitely could say that they knew a lot about you. Looking at the cups set up on the table, you ask, “Who’re we going against?”
        “Us.” You and Jisung both turn towards the sound of the voice, and your blood runs cold when you see that it’s Younghoon and that chick from earlier.  Sensing the tension between you and Younghoon, Jisung says, “Let’s get this thing started then.”
        You couldn’t say that you were the best at beer pong, but luckily for you, Jisung was. What annoyed you the most throughout the game however, was that every time Younghoon made a shot, the girl he was with would throw herself all over him. Honestly, it made you want to barf. Fortunately, Jisung’s presence made things a little bit better.
        As the game nears to the end, both sides are left with one cup each. It’s your turn to make the shot, and all you want to do is wipe the smirk off that jackass’ face. So with all your determination, you toss the ping pong ball and watch as it makes it way to the other side of the table. When the ball hits the rim of the cup, you hold your breath, and when it lands inside the cup, your breath is knocked out of you when Jisung lifts you up into a bone crushing hug. “Oh hell yeah! That’s my Y/n! Yo Hyunjin, I don’t need you anymore. Y/n’s my new beer pong partner now.”
        Although Younghoon’s presence may have ruined a part of your life, you could say that being around Jisung made it a bit better, or maybe it was just all the alcohol you managed consume. Either way, you enjoyed living next door to a frat house.
        The next time the frat boys throws a party is a month later, and of course you show up, but this time you brought your friend Yeji. However, you’re starting to think that was a mistake because she made you dress up this time. Last time you had just shown up in jeans and a nice shirt, but this time she was making you go all out. “C’mon Y/n, you told me that last time you saw Younghoon. Don’t you want to make him regret cheating on you?”
        Sitting on your bed, you ponder her question. You don’t dress up often, but you guessed it couldn’t hurt to do so this one time, and if Younghoon happened to be at tonight’s party and he happens to se you then so be it. Getting up, you make it known to Yeji that you weren’t letting her dress you up because of a stupid boy, but because you wanted to look good and confident. Your response causes for her to clap in excitement and then she drags you into your closet to begin the process.
        Once the two of you arrive next door, you are greeted by Jisung, “Oh hey Yeji, hey Y/n,” quickly observing your look, “You look different Y/n.” Cutting you off before you could say anything, Yeji excitedly asks, “Don’t they look hot?”
        Squirming underneath Jisung’s gaze, your eyes widen when he says, “Yeah, they do.” Motioning towards the kitchen, “Can I get you guys anything to drink?”
        The two of you let Jisung lead you towards the kitchen, where you see Younghoon and a different girl from last time conversing by the kitchen counter. Ignoring Younghoon’s gaze, you stand in front of all drinks, pondering your options. Sliding behind you, Jisung gently wraps an arm around your waist to get to the other side of you, where he grabs a beer for himself and picks up another to see if you wanted one. Gladly accepting the offer, you take a swig of it, disliking the taste, but drinking it anyways.
        You realize that Jisung is talking to you, but with the heavy bass of the music and the loud voices of people, you’re unable to understand anything that he’s saying. Realizing that you couldn’t hear him, Jisung steps closer to you and talks into your ear, “You up for being my partner at beer pong again?” Honestly, you weren’t really in the mood for too much drinking tonight, but you just realized the Yeji has already left your side and you’re really starting to hate the feeling of Younghoon’s gaze on you, so you pull back from Jisung and offer your hand to him, saying to him, “Lead the way.” He happily takes your hand and leads you to the table.
        The two of you only play one game together, but you still have fun because you loved the look on Chan’s and Changbin’s face as you and Jisung won. Fortunately for you, the two men sucked at beer pong, so you didn’t have to drink much, and even when they did manage to land a ball in one of your cups, Jisung had offered to take the drink; saying something along the lines of him being too thirsty. Silently you had thanked him.
        Hours go by when you and Yeji finally meet up again, and she’s on the verge of passing out. Deciding that you should bring her back to your place, you take your leave, but before you could go, Jisung catches you and tells you that he’ll walk the two of you back to you place, saying that he needed a bit of fresh air.
        The short walk back to your place is filled with comfortable silence, sans the noise from the party. Having Jisung help you with the door, you throw a passed out Yeji onto you couch, turning to Jisung you thank him for the help and for making the night fun for you.
        Waving you off, he says, “Nah, there’s no need to thank me, I didn’t do much anyways. Plus, I like having you around, so of course I gotta make it seem like us frat guys are fun.” He sends you a wink as you chuckle at him. Walking Jisung to your door, you bid him a good night, with a small smile on he face, he looks you in the eyes, “Good night Y/n.”
        The next time you see Jisung isn’t at one of their frat parties, it’s actually during an unexpected situation.
        It’s Tuesday morning when you decide that it’s too early in the morning for there to be someone ringing your doorbell. Checking through the peephole to see who the unwanted guest, you roll your eyes when you see Jisung. Opening up the door, the first thing Jisung says is, “So like here’s the thing, our water pipes are busted and I really need to take a shower. Can I use yours?” You contemplate for a moment on whether you should shut the door on Jisung’s face or not, but choosing to ignore the devil on your shoulder, you open the door widely, allowing room for Jisung to enter your house.
        As Jisung uses your shower, you take the opportunity to make the two of you breakfast. Humming and dancing around as you get everything set up. While you were busy flipping the pancakes, your doorbell rings once again, but before you could go see who it was, you hear Jisung call out, “I’ll get it!”
        When Jisung opens up the door he isn’t expecting to see your ex on the other side. Confused, Younghoon gives Jisung a once over and asks, “Is Y/n here?”
Crossing his arms across his chest, Jisung leans against the doorway, “They’re a bit busy right now.”
        Annoyed by his response, Younghoon says, “Well could you tell them that I’m here and that I need to talk to them right now?”
        Rubbing his fingers on his chin, seeming as if he was giving your ex’s request a thought, Jisung replies, “I could…but I won’t.” With the being said, Jisung makes an attempt to shut the door on your Younghoon’s face, but he slams his hand against the door and says, while gritting his teeth, “Look here you piece of-“
        “Jisung? Who’s at the door?” you ask from behind Jisung.
        “It’s no one.”
        “It’s Younghoon.” Both men say at the same time.
        Pushing Jisung aside, you widen the door to see your ex. “What do you want?” you ask him in an uninterested tone.
        “I wanted to come and talk to you, Y/n.”
        “Well then talk.” He looks over at Jisung, who’s been hovering over your shoulder glaring at him. “In private.”
        “Whatever you have to say to me can be said in front of Jisung and if that bothers you then you can just head on home and not talk to me ever again.”
        Rolling his eyes in annoyance, he brings to say, “I wanna get back together, Y/n. What I did was mistake-“ You stop him mid-sentence by raising your hand in the air, “Let me stop you right there Younghoon. If that’s what you came all the way down here for then I’m sorry, but I have no intentions of getting back together with you. If that is all, then enjoy your day, goodbye Younghoon, for good.” Closing the door, your lean against it, eyes shut, taking a moment to process everything. You even managed to forget about a certain frat boy’s presence.
        “I’m proud of you Y/n.” Opening your eyes, you turn to glare at Jisung, “Did you really have to answer my door like that?” you motion to his body. Looking down at his own body, Jisung says to you, “What’s wrong with this?”
        “Jisung, you’re literally only in a towel right now.” Said towel was the only thing covering Jisung and it was hanging low on his hips. “And your chest is still wet, it’s like you didn’t even bother to dry up.”
        “Hey, don’t act like you aren’t enjoying the view right now. You better take it all in because not everyone gets to see this. Plus, I’m sure your ex is making up all kinds of situations as to why I’m like this in your house.” Jisung does ridiculous poses to show off his physique.
        Sighing and making your way back to your kitchen, you say to him, “The last thing I need right now is for him to think that we’re together or whatever.” Jisung follows you into the kitchen, “Hey what’s wrong with thinking that we’re together?”
        “Lots of things are wrong with thinking that. Now go and put on some real clothes so we can eat breakfast together.” You shoo him towards the bathroom as you set up your breakfast plates.
        When Jisung returns, this time in actually clothing, he sits down at the kitchen island in front of his plate and says, “You know, this is a pretty domestic scene: you making breakfast for the two of us while I get ready in the morning. I think I can get used to this.”
        Jisung’s unnecessary comment makes a slight blush form on your face, causing for you to mumble to him, “Shut up and eat your pancakes.” You choose to ignore the smug look on his face as you stuff yours with pancakes.
        The next morning, Jisung is knocking at your door once again, and when you open it up, he asks to use your shower again. Playing the nice neighbor, you let him inside, asking him when their pipes will be fixed as he makes his way to your bathroom. “Uh I don’t know. They say it may take a week or two, or something like that.”
        “I like the body wash that you use by the way. It smells good.” Jisung comes out from the hallway, towel drying his hair. This time he has pants on, but just like yesterday, he’s wet and shirtless. Taking a seat by the kitchen island, he watches as you maneuver around the kitchen.
        “And why exactly did you use my body wash?” Being a good host, you place a piece of toast with avocado on a plate and slide it towards Jisung. He happily accepts it, take a bite, and answers your question, mouth still full of food, “I forgot to bring mine with me.”
        “So what’re you up to today?” He waits for your answer as he chugs down the glass of water. You proceed to tell him that you didn’t have class that day, so you were going to
        Because of the damage to the water pipes at the frat house, Jisung continues to come over to your house to use the shower for the rest of the week. In the short span of time that he’s constantly been over to your house, he’s inserted himself in your daily routine. If you were to be honest with yourself, you liked the change that he brought into your life. He’s managed to figure out your schedule; knows when it’s a good time to come over and stays a little bit afterwards to hang out and talk to you. Sometimes in the mornings, you’ll make breakfast for the both of you, whether it be a bowl of cereal or waffles. Though he still likes to parade around your house wet and shirtless, which you do your best to ignore, but that’s kind of hard when Jisung’s abs look the way they do.
        There are even times when he doesn’t need to shower, but he’ll show up at your house anyway. You’re not too sure if you like the fact that the two of you have become so comfortable with one another over the span of a week.
        One morning you had woken up earlier than usually and decided to go out and sit on your front porch, mug in hand. Taking in the beauty of the natural world, you hear the sound of a door closing. Turning, you see Minho, a mug also in his hand, still dressed in his pajamas. “Hey neighbor,” he raises up his mug to greet you.
        Smiling and doing the same, you say, “Good morning Minho. Early morning?”
        “Nah, I’m always up this early. There’s something about the fresh morning air that gets me going. The question is: why are you up this morning?” Leaning across the porch railing, he takes a sip from his mug.
        “Couldn’t go back to sleep, so I thought I’d go out here and enjoy all of this.” The two of you fall into a comfortable silence, embracing the morning air.
        Suddenly, a question pops into your brain, catching Minho’s attention, you ask him, “Hey, where are you and the others washing up if your place’s pipes are broken?” Confused, Minho cocks an eyebrow at you, “What’re you talking about? Our pipes were fixed hours after they were broken.”
        This was news to you, “What did you just say?” Getting up from your porch swing, “Did you just say that they were fixed?”
        Nodding his head, “I did.”
        “That son of a bitch,” you muttered to yourself. The new information changed your perspective on everything. Essentially, Jisung had been freeloading off of you for this entire week, and for what? You didn’t know. All you knew was that Jisung had been increasing your water bill for no reason at all, and that you were going to murder him.
        “Minho, why the hell has Jisung been coming over to my house to take showers if your pipes have been fixed for a week now?”
        Shrugging his shoulder nonchalantly, “I don’t know, maybe it has to do with the fact that your house has you in it and ours doesn’t?”
        His response wasn’t the answer that you were expecting. “And what exactly is that supposed to mean?”
        Separating himself from the railing, he goes on to say, “I think you’re a smart person, Y/n. Figure it out.” Giving you one last smirk, he turns and goes back into the house, leaving you standing outside on your porch looking like an idiot.
        It’s been two hours since your conversation with Minho, and you still can’t get over the fact that Jisung has been lying to you this entire time. Looking at the time on your phone, you see that Jisung should be coming over sometime soon. Once he knocked on your doors, you were determined to get an answer out of him.
        Five minutes later the sound of knocking can be heard. Getting up from your spot on the couch, you make your way to the door. The sight in front of your eyes as you open the door is Jisung with a bright smile on his face. Seeing his face, you scoff as you walk away from the door. Shutting the door, Jisung says, “Well someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning.”
        “Actually, I woke up feeling great, that is until I had a little talk with Minho and found out something interesting. Do you want to know what it was?” From the tone of you voice, Jisung had a slight feeling of where this conversation was going. “You talked to Minho hyung? What did you find out?”
        “Oh nothing major, just the fact that your pipes have been fixed for a week now.” Jisung avoids your gaze as he thinks of a way to explain the situation to you. “So you see..” His sentence falters.
        “Go on.”
        Sighing, “Look, I could go on and come up some ridiculous excuse as to why I continued your shower, but I’m sure you wouldn’t like that, so here’s the truth: I like spending time with you, Y/n. After the first morning where you made me pancakes, I thought it was the best way for us hang out and get to know each other. At first I just thought of you as our cute neighbor, and then I saw you with Younghoon at one of our parties, and I just couldn’t take my eyes off of you. So yeah, you piqued my interest, and I used the situation to my advantage. I’m sorry for not telling you the truth.”
        His confession was unexpected to you, but it explains what Minho had meant earlier. You were completely speechless; you didn’t know what to say to Jisung. All the anger that you had previously held disappeared and was replaced by a feeling that you couldn’t describe. Too many thoughts ran through your head, and Jisung could sense it, something that you hated because he always knew your silent cues.
        “This is probably too much for you to process this early in the morning, but I just want you to know that you don’t have to reciprocate my feelings or whatever. I just hope that this doesn’t make things awkward between us because like I said, I like hanging out with you, and so do the other guys in the hous, and if you want, I’ll reimburse you the cost for your water bill, just let me know how much it’ll be.” Looking back at the door, he says, “I guess I should go, huh?” till processing the scene, you nod, and without another word Jisung leaves your house.
        It’s been a week since you discovered the news about the pipes and Jisung’s feelings, and you’ve managed to avoid seeing any of the frat guys. You didn’t want to ignore them, maybe Jisung, but you just wanted time to process everything, including your feelings for Jisung.
        Of course you liked Jisung, he had a great personality, was a funny guy and he was easy on the eyes, but did you romantically like him? That you weren’t sure about. So you tried to think about all the small things that Jisung and even tried to imagine the two of you together.
        You had a love/hate relationship with the fact that he could easily read you. You liked it because it meant that you didn’t have to voice things out but hated it because you weren’t sure how he was able to read you. You also liked the fact that things were easy with him because you knew that it was sometimes hard for you to open to people, but with him you didn’t have a problem with it at all. When it came to you thinking of romantic scenarios with him, you weren’t disgusted by the thought of him taking you out on dates, or the two of you cuddling.
        Confiding in your best friend, Yeji, you tell her everything, in hopes of her helping you clear your muddy thoughts. “Bestie, it sounds like to me that you like Jisung.”
        “Does it?”
        Tsking in disapproval, she asks you, “Now why do you sound disappointed Y/n?”
        “It’s just that the last time I liked a guy and was in a relationship with hi, he cheated on me, and I just don’t want to get hurt like that again.” Ever since Younghoon you were too scared to get back into the dating scene, and you hate him for ruining things for you.
        “Look, I know you’re scared, but you really like Jisung, don’t you?”
        You were afraid to admit it to yourself, but you did. “I do, Yeji.”
        “Then be with him. For that week that he was constantly in your life, I saw a new side to you. I could tell that you were happier, and that’s all I want for you; to be happy.” At times like this, you were really glad that Yeji was your best friend. You don’t know where you’d be without her.
        “You’re right. I should tell him how I feel. The guys are going to have a party tonight, so I’ll go over and talk to him.”
        “Oh my gosh, I’m so happy for you, Y/n. Oh and just remember that if he hurts you in any way that I’ll happily beat him up for you.” Laughing, you knew that she was serious as she had managed to land a punch on Younghoon’s face when she found out that he cheated on you. “I love you Yeji.”
        “I love you too, now go get your mans.”
        Later on that day when you entered the frat house, you were determined to proceed with your mission. You walk around the house looking for a particular person. As you wander through the house, you see familiar faces that you haven’t seen in a while. Chan catches your eyes as he DJs and gives you that famous smile of his. You spot a drunk Felix clinging onto Jeongin on the couch. You knew that you were stalling yourself from what you were aiming to do tonight, and with the look that Minho was giving you, he could tell to. Mouthing the words, “Just go for it,” you use his words as encouragement and make your way out to the backyard.
        Chan had made it a rule that beer pong was to now only be played outside since the last party resulted in a broken table and a lot up napkins. You kind of appreciated the new rule because it gave you a lot more air to breathe. Shutting the door that led to the backyard, you spot a familiar figure in the middle of a winning game. Not wanting to disturb, what he calls “vibe”, you watch as Hyunjin makes the opponents chug their last cup. Celebrating their win, Jisung and Hyunjin bump their chests together, ‘what a bunch of barbarians,’ you thought to yourself. Your presence doesn’t go unnoticed once the two boys pull away and Hyunjin spots you. Catching Jisung’s attention, he motions towards you, and for the first time that night, the two of you lock eyes.
        Using this as your chance to talk to him, the two of you walk towards one another, meeting up in the middle. Unable to look Jisung in the eyes, you focus on the red cup in his hand. “There’s something I want to say to you.” Not saying anything to you in response, Jisung pulls you towards a quieter area, which happened to where a swing set was located.
        By the look on your face, Jisung could tell that you were questioning it, “Felix wanted a swing set, and what Felix wants, Felix gets.” Finding the reason quite reasonable you nod your head, and take a seat on the swing, Jisung following in suit.
        Gathering your thoughts, you focus on the ground, “Jisung-“
        “Y/n-“ The two of you say each other’s name at the same time, awkwardly laughing it off. Jisung motions for you to go first.
        Taking a deep breathe, you decide to just tell him the truth, “So I’ve been thinking about everything for the past week, and at first I was just unsure about things, unsure about my feelings for you. Ever since Younghoon and I broke up, I’ve been too scared to get back into a relationship with anyone, fearing that I’m just going to get hurt again. And about a week ago, I had only saw you as a friend, but as I managed to collect my thoughts, I think it’s safe to say that I like you, Jisung.”
        Being that one of his skills was to read you, Jisung could tell that it took you a lot to admit this too him, especially the part of your fear. “Y/n, I promise you that I would never do anything to hurt you. I want to be the reason for your happiness, not your tears. The hyungs would kill me if I ever hurt someone like you. Also, you think?”
        Shaking your head, “I know that I like you. I also know that I can trust you.” Eyes still on the ground, you hear the sounds of chains rubbing against each other, and you realize that Jisung is now facing you. Softly placing a hand on your hand that was holding onto the chain, he maneuvers you to face him. With his other hand, he places it below your chin, making you lift your head and look him in the eyes, “I think I like this shy side of you.”
        “You think?” You ask, repeating his previous question.
        Chuckling, he responds, “I know. I also know that I really want to kiss you right now, so Y/n, can I kiss you right now?” Nodding your head, you lean forward towards Jisung. The kiss is short and sweet, and when the two of you pull apart, you hear familiar voices cheer aloud. Turning your heads, you and Jisung realize that you guys had an audience. Too embarrassed you lean forwards and bury your face into Jisung’s chest, something that you didn’t realize you wanted to do until now.
        One morning, months after you and Jisung have gotten together, while you were over at the frat house, in the middle of eating breakfast with the boys, Jeongin had ask Jisung, “So in your mind, you thought that by parading around Y/n’s house with nothing but a towel, that they would suddenly be interested in you?”
        Shamelessly Jisung responds, “Uh, yeah, and it worked, didn’t it babe?”
        Smacking Jisung in the face, you say to him, “You idiot, although I did enjoy the view, your abs aren’t the reason why I like you, but now that I’m thinking about it, they may be the reason why I stayed.” The other guys laugh at your response as Jisung pouts at you. Kissing his pout away, you reassure him that you like everything about him, “Plus I’m your beer pong partner, who else is going to drink everything for me?”
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A/n: my fav part while writing this was the first morning Jisung came over, it’s what inspired me to come up with the skz frat series
what do you guys think of the series so far? id love to hear your thoughts & opinions as feedback is always welcomed!
I have a tag list for this series, so pls let me know if you would like to be added to it:)
masterlist
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honeypiehotchner · 4 years
Text
delicate -- Hotch x Reader one-shot
Here’s that one-shot I’ve been holding for a while! Named her delicate after Taylor Swift’s song, purely because of the whole “dive bar on the east side/where you at?” imagery. I listened to the Spotify Singles (acoustic) version of the song while writing this, if you wanna listen while you read! Enjoy!! xx.
Summary: Hotch doesn’t go to bars very often. Until he meets you at one.
Warnings: age gap (reader is somewhere around 24-25), mentioning of being safe at a bar (so alluding to date rape drugs), harassment from one drunk dickhead
Hotch Masterlist
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Hotch doesn’t go to bars.
When he’s not on a case, working on paperwork for a case, or caring for his son, he’s normally asleep.
Not at a bar.
But some nights, the memories are too much. Some nights, the cases take a toll on him — especially the children that never made it back home to their parents.
He doesn’t know why he’s in a bar. The only time he comes is when the team goes out and wants to drag him with. It’s normally Dave who manages to get him to agree to a beer or two.
But Aaron is alone this time.
You, on the other hand, know exactly why you’re in a bar.
You’re bored, you’ve just finished your masters degree, you need a drink and some time to yourself to people-watch.
It’s fun, really. Observing people while they’re drunk. You usually have one drink and switch over to water, wanting to remember the things you see while also staying safe.
But occasionally— or, well, more than occasionally by the sheer unfortunate fact of you being a woman alone in a bar, you get the typical man sliding into the seat next to you before he’s even all the way through his rehearsed, “Is this seat taken?”
You never answer. There is no point in trying because their ass already hits the chair before you can say, “Yes, it’s taken, by my foot, now move before I kick it up your ass.”
You never say that, not often. Sometimes the guys can be pretty big assholes, but the bartender, Vanessa, knows you well, so she usually threatens security before you get yourself in trouble.
Unfortunately, tonight looks like it’s going to be one of those nights.
The bar is packed for a reason you aren’t privy too until you see (and hear) the random band start a new song. Great. Performance.
Still, you snag the last seat at the bar, waving to the bartender when she sees you. You barely get the seat warm before she’s sliding your usual in front of you.
“It’s on the house tonight,” she yells.
“What?” You shake your head. “No the fuck it’s not.”
She leans closer so she doesn’t have to yell as loud. “You are my saving grace in this sea of assholes, so yes it is. We can fight about it later.”
“Fine,” you roll your eyes. You dip your hands underneath the bar to switch your diamond ring from your right to left hand.
Tonight, you’re married.
You got this ring when your last relationship ended so badly. It was a long time coming, and once you were finally able to see the other side, you went out and bought yourself an engagement ring. Just for you. A promise to yourself to start loving yourself harder, and going out with dickheads less.
So far, it’s been wonderful. You’re loving being alone. It was exhausting going on so many first dates, trying to love someone else instead of letting yourself heal.
It’s been two years of singleness for you now, and you’ve loved almost every day.
The “wedding” ring usually makes most of the guys turn the other way. A few that are oblivious will try talking to you, but once they glance at your hand, they excuse themselves.
It’s hysterical, if you’re honest.
But some, unfortunately, don’t give a damn.
Like the guy who has just squeezed his way into the seat next to you.
You roll your eyes and prepare yourself for the shallow conversations because, for some ungodly reason, the band decided now was a good time for a break.
“You come here often?”
Oh, for fuck’s sake. “Nope.”
“It’s a pretty good place,” the guy says, waving down the other bartender, his name is Nick. “You should come here more often.”
“Should I, now?”
“Yeah,” the guy grins. “You’ll see me.”
You roll your eyes so hard it nearly hurts.
“Wanna dance?”
“Not in the mood.”
“Can I buy you another drink?”
“No thanks.”
“Can I get you anything?”
“Why, do you work here?”
“Look, I’m just trying to be nice.” Ah, there it is. The “nice guy” line.
You turn your head, raising an eyebrow. “Good for you. I’m not interested.”
“Ooh,” he feigns hurt, holding an open hand to his chest. “Ouch.”
You shrug. “You’ll get over it.”
“Damn.”
“Mm.”
“You sure you don’t wanna dance?”
“I’m married,” you say easily, picking your glass up with your left hand to show off your ring. You don’t drink from your glass because you made the mistake of looking away for only a moment, so now you’re paranoid that he might’ve slipped something in it.
The guy looks around, then back to you. “I don’t see a husband.” Oh, he sounds so smug. Like he’s pulled one over on you. Moron.
“He’s on a work trip.”
“Well, he’s not here.”
“You don’t want to get on his bad side, dude.”
“Oh really? What’s he do for a living?”
“He works for the FBI.” The lie slips from your mouth before you can stop it, and you almost laugh.
It’s something you’ve pulled from the countless guys that have said they work for the FBI, but have no badge to show for it. It’s always cracked you up. You’re aware there’s an FBI office around here, but you doubt a greasy, blackout drunk works for them. Let alone more than five greasy, blackout drunks in one night.
“The FBI, huh?” The guy says, just taking it in stride. “What’s his name?”
Right as you’re about to make one up until Vanessa can get back over here to threaten security, two arms slip around your waist.
You’re ready to throw caution to the wind along with your fists, but the owner of the arms says, “Just go with it, I’m Aaron.”
You turn your head to see a very handsome older man peering down at you, a smile on his lips that you can’t help but mirror. Something about his face has your gut screaming that you can trust him, so you play along.
“Honey! I thought you were in Texas!” You throw your arms around his neck for good measure, and also for a moment to casually get a good whiff of his cologne. Goddamn. You’ll gladly be his fake-wife. Any day. Forever.
“I was,” Aaron says, squeezing you before letting you go. He moves to stand next to you, his arm around your waist in a protective manner. “We landed early, wanted to surprise you.” He kisses your knuckles to keep up the act, and then settles his eyes on the man who was bothering you.
“You must be the husband,” the guy mutters bitterly. “You really work for the FBI?”
Oh, fuck, you think. This guy just doesn’t give up. A few future scenarios flash before your eyes, but the one most alarming is a fight erupting, which isn’t all that far-fetched. You’d never be able to come back if you caused something like that.
But before you can stumble through some excuse, Aaron is pulling out a badge. An actual badge.
“Supervisory Special Agent Hotchner. I’m the unit chief of the BAU,” he says easily, holding his badge out for as long as it takes the guy to inspect it. You have no clue what BAU stands for, but you’re just thanking whatever Gods might be real that this is happening.
The idiot is scowling by the time Aaron puts his badge away. He leaves without a word.
Your jaw nearly drops as you watch the guy go, and literally leave the bar. You had hopes that he’d leave you alone, but leaving the bar entirely is even better.
Aaron’s arm slips from around your waist as he moves to take the now empty seat next to you. All the while you’re gawking at him like you’re in some fever dream.
When he catches your eyes, he says, “What?”
“Am I dreaming?” You blurt. “Do you really work for the FBI?”
He chuckles and pulls out his badge again, holding it out to you where you can read it. And sure as shit, he’s an actual FBI agent. What the fuck.
You look up as he pulls his badge away. “Did you hear me tell the guy my husband worked for the FBI?”
Aaron shakes his head. “That was pure luck. By the way,” he holds his hand out to you. “I’m Aaron.”
“Y/N,” you shake his hand, smiling at the fact that Aaron wanted to go through the official pleasantries and that you got to feel how soft his hand is again. “Thank you for that. I thought he’d never leave.”
“No worries. And it’s best he did, I really didn’t feel like arresting anyone tonight.”
“Arresting him? For what?”
“Well for starters, harassment. But since that usually doesn’t hold up very well, I’d have to say it was for his cocaine addiction.”
Your eyes widen. “He was doing coke?”
“Well, not out in the open, of course, but there were traces of it on his nose and his eyes had that look to them. Addicts are easy to spot when you run into them enough.”
Who the hell is this guy?
“Oh, and forgive me, what’s your husband’s name?” Aaron gestures down at your left hand. “I might know him, but I can’t say that I recognize you.”
“Oh,” you move the ring back to your right hand, much to Aaron’s surprise. “I’m not married. I only put it on the left hand to try to avoid assholes like that.”
“I see,” Aaron nods, and if you’re not mistaken, he almost looks pleased.
Vanessa returns to get Aaron’s drink, and then gives you a look.
You want to scream, yes, I’m well aware he is dangerously attractive and that he’s talking to me but don’t you dare say a word to embarrass me.
Instead, you say, “Can you make me another?”
She nods in understanding and pours out your drink, setting off to make a second after sliding Aaron his beer.
“So,” you turn your body and prop your head in your palm. “What’s got an FBI agent in a bar on a Tuesday night?”
He takes a long swig of his beer before answering. “What’s the real story behind that ring on your hand?”
“Answer for an answer,” you sing, smiling at Vanessa when she brings you your drink. She leaves without a word, raising her eyebrows at you.
“The cases can be rough,” Aaron says vaguely, bringing your attention back to him. “You?”
“Got it as a promise to myself to never date another prick ever again,” you chuckle, gazing down at the ring. “It’s worked its magic, so far.”
“So far?”
“I’m talking to you, aren’t I?”
He smiles through his next swig of beer.
+++
It becomes a routine, you and Aaron sharing a drink at the bar.
To your surprise, he has the same views as you about alcohol. It’s fun to have one drink, but getting wasted and blacking out isn’t.
It’s refreshing, if you’re honest. Everyone your age wants to get absolutely shitfaced every time they go out, and that’s just never been for you.
It helps that Aaron is older. Well— You’re not sure if it helps or not. Because he is significantly older, the farthest you two have gone is sharing a drink at the bar. He usually leaves first, needing to get home to his son, to do more case work, or there was one time when he actually got a call about a case mid-drink. He was gone for two weeks after that.
But he always comes back, and he always finds you here, at this bar.  
You mostly come every night to keep Vanessa company for an hour or two. To give yourself a break from the chaos of reality and to give her a familiar face in the sea of drunken customers.
Every night that Aaron isn’t here, Vanessa asks you where he is. Like you would know (you only do if he tells you of a possible up and coming case). Like you have his number (you don’t). Like you care (you don’t want to admit that you do).
“No Daddy tonight?” Vanessa teases, sliding you your drink.
“If you don’t stop calling him Daddy, I swear to God.”
“Oh, don’t swear to Him. He doesn’t need to get involved.”
You send a glare her way, but you’re holding back a laugh.
“Is he still on a case?” She asks, trying to be serious again.
You shrug. “Who knows. They can last pretty long. He was gone two weeks for the last one.”
“Keeping track, are we?” She raises an eyebrow.
“Shut up.”
“I’m just saying, you two are killing me here, sharing drinks and not saying how you feel. It’s torture to watch you every week, you know.”
“He’s like...twenty years older than me. Or something.”
“And?” She scoffs. “Age is but a number. You’re an adult. He’s an adult. It’s fine.”
You shrug. “He probably just sees me as a friend. He would’ve given me his number or something by now, right?”
“I dunno, men are weird. But he’s older, he’s probably scared to make a move, scared he’ll make you uncomfortable.”
You shrug again. You appreciate her trying to show you the possibilities, the logical reasons for why the two of you haven’t gone any further from the bar, but you aren’t sure what to believe. Plus, it’s been a week since you’ve seen him. The last time you two shared a drink, he didn’t say anything about a case.
So, he’s either on a case again, or has stopped coming.
The latter thought has you debating getting shitfaced wasted for the first time in years. Being blackout drunk would probably hurt you less than if it’s true that he’s just suddenly ditched you.
But what stops you is when Vanessa runs back over, eyes wide. “Just spotted your hottie.”
Oh, now he’s my hottie? “What?” You inwardly scold yourself for sounding a little too giddy at the prospect of him being here. 
But if he’s here, why isn’t he sitting next to you?
Vanessa answers that one for you. “At a table in the back. He’s with friends I think.”
Friends? Never mind then on sharing a drink with him. “Oh, cool.”
Vanessa looks like she wants to say something, but is called away to another customer.
You don’t want to butt in with Aaron’s time with friends, so you stay at the bar, facing forward, nursing your one drink. Your mind conjures a plan in two seconds flat: finish your drink, head out for the night and discreetly look in Aaron’s direction, hopefully catch his eye, but if not, just go home and...shower and go to sleep.
Because if he wants to see you, he will. If he doesn’t, then he won’t.
Good plan.
Or at least, it is, until Aaron is sliding up beside you.
Your heart launches itself into your throat. You don’t say anything because you have no idea what to say. You were too busy assuming he’d rather be with his friends (which is...fine because it’s not like the two of you are...dating) to notice him walking up.
He says something for you, though. “Hey.”
Well, he might as well have stayed silent. What are you supposed to do with that?
“Hey,” you return casually, then offer a small smile. “Thought you’d be gone longer.” You operate on the assumption that he was on a case.
And he was. “This one actually worked in our favor.” He leans his elbows onto the bar, and naturally your eyes follow the movement. He’s not in a stuffy suit like the last few times, but he’s still in a dress shirt, with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows.
Arms. You’re a complete sucker for arms, and he’s practically teasing you like this.
“That’s good,” you comment, taking a sip from your drink. “Here to celebrate?”
“Yeah, we are.”
Nick brings Aaron his beer, thankfully, because you know Vanessa would’ve made some not-so-vague comment about Aaron being up here -- and maybe let an “accidental” Daddy comment slip.
To your surprise, Aaron sits down.
Your eyebrows furrow. “I thought you’re here with friends?”
Aaron looks over his shoulder and shrugs. “Just my team, yeah. I imagine they’re tired of me, though.”
You doubt that’s the case, but you know that if you say that, he’ll just brush it off.
“Not even gonna introduce me?” You tease instead, but you honestly want to smack yourself. You need to get a better hold on your word vomit. Inviting yourself is insanely rude.
Aaron’s eyebrows raise slightly, clearly not expecting you to say that — or to even want to be introduced to his team. “They’re a lot,” he says. “They’ll make a big deal out of this.”
“This?” You question, gesturing shortly between the two of you. “What is this?”
“What do you want it to be?” He asks carefully, averting his eyes shyly.
“Well,” you exhale dramatically, swirling your drink. “I think when you’ve shared a drink with a woman more than...twenty times, it should at least be considered dating.” You cut your eyes in his direction, your chest swelling as you see a grin breaking out on his face.
“I think I’m a bad date,” he says, confusing you. He chuckles, adding, “You don’t even have my number!”
“I’ll get it at the end of tonight,” you say, touching his arm gently for reassurance. “Come on, I think the back of my head is burning from how hard they’re staring.”
He looks through the corner of his eyes and sighs. “I’m sorry in advance for them.”
“No need to apologize,” you shrug. “Friends can be the worst. Vanessa has already started asking questions about you.” You nod toward the bartender that is feigning interest in clearing a space behind the bar.
“I figured,” Aaron murmurs. “Okay.” He slides off the stool, grabbing his beer in one hand, and holding his other one out to you.
Your heart jumps harshly when you take his hand. It’s warm and soft and secure, everything you want and need. You grab your drink in your free hand, giving Aaron’s hand a reassuring squeeze.
As soon as you and Aaron approach the table, the older gentleman is punching the one with tattoos. “Pay up.”
Aaron witnesses the cash exchange and stares at them tiredly. “Seriously, guys?”
Meanwhile, you’re holding back a giggle.
“Well, hello,” the woman with the colorful fashion sense says. “Introduce us!”
Aaron looks ready to pretend like he doesn’t know any of them, so you step up and say, “He told me you guys would be like this.”
That gets him laughing, and he finally says, “Y/N, this is Penelope, Emily, JJ, Spencer, Derek, and Dave.” Each person nods, waves, or smiles when their name is called.
“I’ll try to remember,” you joke. “But no promises.”
You squeeze Aaron’s hand in yours, trying to get him to loosen up. He does, barely, so when he tugs on your hand, silently asking you to step closer to him so his arm can fit around your waist, you oblige.
“What was the bet about?” You ask, nodding toward the men who exchanged cash a bit ago. It was Dave and Derek if you’re remembering names correctly.
“Rossi thought Hotch was going to bring you back over here, but I didn’t agree,” Derek says, nudging Dave’s arm. “I didn’t think you’d go for him.”
“Well, that’d be embarrassing if I went for someone else, considering we’re dating,” you chuckle, leaning your head back to look up at Aaron.
“Dating? So it’s official?” Emily asks, looking a little more excited than you thought any of them would.
“I think it was official the first time we met,” you snicker. “He pretended to be my husband so some dickhead would leave me alone.”
Aaron’s arm tightens around your waist at the memory.
“Okay,” Penelope grabs her drink, then moves over next to you, linking your arm with hers. “Hotch, we’re stealing her. We need details.”
Aaron doesn’t look like he wants to let go at all, but you press a kiss to his cheek. “Told you it’d be fine,” you whisper to him.
He surprises you by pressing a kiss on your lips. Midway through, your brain reminds you that this is technically your first kiss with him. And it’s in front of his friends. Swoon.
After so many dates with guys who were ashamed to be showing any sort of affection toward a woman, it’s nice to find a man who doesn’t care who sees his affection.
What can you say? After dating so many boys, it’s nice to finally find a man.
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baekhansol · 3 years
Text
prologue: pretty please
pairing: werewolf!jackson x f!reader
genre: werewolf au, fluff, smut, angsty ending | rated: mature
word count: 3.6K
warnings: lying, fluff, oral (f receiving), slight orgasm denial, sort of nipple play (reader on self), unprotected sex, knotting, sort of awful sex I'm sorry jackson, angsty ending, and lmk if i am missing anything!
note: so this is the prologue to a series I am writing!! i hope you all really like it! I actually decided today it fits as more of a prologue than a chapter one, so :p please enjoy and maybe give me feedback idk also i know the smut in it sucks i'm sorry
You often found yourself in the library during the day, studying and doing homework or taking a break and watching anime. You had been sitting there for an hour or so, and it was starting to get busy. It always did around midterms and finals; you were just glad you found your own small table to sit at.
You were working on a paper when someone came up, smiling a bit awkwardly. “Hey, would you mind if I sit here? I’ll be quiet, I promise,” He says, hesitating to sit down. He had an accent that you couldn’t quite place, as it only happened with some words.
When you finish the sentence you were typing and look up, you do your best to hide your surprise at how handsome he was. He was absolutely stunning, making you question your own appearance. “Oh, um, sure,” you say, your cheeks flushing with heat as you make room for him.
“I’m Jackson, by the way,” He says as he pulls out the chair and sits, getting himself comfortable across from you.
“I’m Y/N,” you respond, still blushing.
“It’s nice to meet you,” he says, offering a charming smile as he pulls out his laptop.
The next week at the same time, he showed up again and asked, “Y/N, is it alright if I join you?”
You nod, a shy smile finding its way onto your face. “What are you studying?” you eventually ask him, tilting your head slightly.
“Business,” Jackson says, glancing up at you with a smile. “Actually, it’s my masters and I’m focusing on international business. What about you?”
When you tell him, he listens intently and asks polite questions- the right ones, too. Not the usual ones you always get.
The next week you’re running late and stop at the vending machine to grab your favorite candy. Going to your usual table, you do a double take when someone is already there. You pause awkwardly, only to realize it was Jackson waiting there with a second cup of coffee.
“Oh, hey Jackson,” you say, blushing as you join him.
He smiles at you, pushing one of the cups towards you. “I got you a coffee, just the way you like it.”
You suspiciously tilt your head, taking a sip, only to be surprised that it was the way you liked your coffee. “How did you know?” you laugh, getting out your laptop.
“I know some of the workers,” he sheepishly admits. You laugh and open the candy, offering him some.
“I shouldn’t, I’m on a diet,” he says with a pout.
“Oh, come on,” you scoff, raising an eyebrow.
He playfully rolls his eyes before grabbing a piece.
Soon, every Tuesday you would meet up with Jackson in the library. Before midterms, it became every Tuesday and Thursday until finals, when it was almost every day. It was on one of these Thursdays that he asked you, “Are you free tomorrow?”
You tilt your head, wondering what he was getting to. He seemed to always have plans on Fridays during your normal study time, and you tried not to study too late since the library closed early. “Uh, no, I don’t think so? Why do you ask?” you respond.
“Well, I was thinking that I could take you for a date! If you wanted to, that is…”
You could tell he was a little nervous, and you realized you were staring at him blankly. You let out an embarrassed laugh, nodding. “Yes, sorry, I was just… yes, I would like that,” you admit, shaking your head some.
“Great! I can pick you up after your class tomorrow? Just make sure you dress warm!” he says with a grin.
“You already have a plan? What is it? Tell me~?” you ask, pouting a little bit.
“Nope, it’s a secret!” he laughs, smiling brightly. “You have to wait until tomorrow to know!”
The next day, you woke up early to get ready. You wore warm clothes like he said, and did your makeup cutely but not excessively, especially since it seemed like you would be outside. In class, you were extra fidgety and kept checking the clock. It felt like time slowed, but you knew it was from your anticipation.
Right on cue as class ended, your phone vibrated. Checking it, you noticed a text from Jackson saying he was outside the building.
You all but run out of the classroom down to the parking lot, finding him standing outside grinning.
“Will you tell me what we are doing now?” you ask, giving him your puppy dog eyes.
“Maybe,” he teases, leading you to his car. He opens the door for you and even shuts it, getting in on the other side. “Does hiking sound okay? Then takeout and a movie at my place?” Jackson asks. You see a hopeful glint and the worry in his eyes, and your smile grows.
“That sounds wonderful!” you tell him.
“Great!” he says, starting to drive. “You’ll love it! I go here quite often, and it’s very pretty. I’ve seen some deer and some really neat birds before there.”
“Oh, really? Do you know what kinds of birds?” you ask, curious.
“Well, I’m not sure since they’re not the same as back home, but definitely some owls! I went out later than I should have. And I don’t know if it was a falcon, eagle, or hawk. But those too.”
“I think we have all three here,” you laugh.
“Well, that really doesn’t help identify it any, now does it,” he laughs with you.
“Not in the slightest,” you giggle.
“Well I guess if we see them, maybe you’ll know,” Jackson says, turning onto a gravel road.
“What am I, a bird expert now?” you laugh more.
“No, you’re just a native here,” he responds with a little pout.
“Still not a bird expert,” you point out.
“I know, but you will know better than me,” he reasons.
“Maybe, maybe not,” you say, shaking your head as he parks in a small parking lot.
“We are here!” Jackson says, turning off the car. He leads you over to the map by the trail entrance, glancing at it once before heading down.
“We’ll follow the blue markers this time,” he says, pointing them out on the tree.
“What do they mean? You didn’t give me time to read the map,” you say with a huff.
“They mean we’re going the correct way,” he tells you smartly.
“That’s not what I meant and you know it!”
“I know. And there’s nothing you can do about it but follow me and find out,” he teases you, taking your hand and leading you.
You’re both careful not to trip over any of the roots or loose rocks, and you start getting glances of white.
“Is that a river?” you ask, glancing at what looked like ice.
“Uh, maybe,” Jackson responded in an unbelievable manner. Of course he knew, he just wasn’t going to tell you.
Eventually, you made it to more of a clearing. Jackson didn’t even have to point to what it was he wanted to show you. You stood in awe instead.
Winter was definitely there, and you knew that since the little fountains on campus were frozen over. But this, this was a sight to behold. The entire river had frozen over, and what must usually be a gorgeous waterfall had frozen over. The water had frozen against the rocks, sharp spears of it dangerously hanging from the main body of water. You swore if the sun was just right, you could see some of the water on the very inside running down inside the thick, frozen ice.
“Isn’t it beautiful?” Jackson asks you, his voice hushed. All you could do was nod.
The next Tuesday, you got to the library first. “Want to go on a second date?” you bluntly ask him when he joins you.
He laughs before smiling, nodding. “Of course, I’d love to,” Jackson assures you.
You’re not sure if you can ever end up choosing a favorite date by the time finals end. Your last “date” was taking him to the airport. He was going home for the break, and you wanted to take him.
“I guess this is as far as we can go, huh?” you ask sadly, looking at the security checkpoint.
“Yeah, I’m sorry, Y/N,” Jackson says, fidgeting with his ticket as if he were nervous.
“Well, I’m sure everything will go well…” you say, almost more nervous than he was. “I mean, you’ve flown lots of times before, so this shouldn’t be any different…” you start to ramble in an attempt to console him.
He chuckles a little, gently putting his hand on your shoulder before tilting up your chin.
“Y/N, will you be my girlfriend?” Jackson softly asks, his dark eyes meeting yours.
Your heart leaped in your chest. You thought of him as your boyfriend, but you weren’t sure if you were official or not, so it made you a little nervous. But at his question, your lips smiled on their own, and you nod as much as you can for his hand holding onto your chin. “Yes!” you whisper.
“Can I kiss you?” he asks, causing you to blush and nod. Once given consent, he kisses you sweetly.
“I promise I’ll be back soon, okay?” Jackson says as he pulls away and picks up his things.
“Alright… be safe,” you tell him, feeling your cheeks burn.
“I will,” he assures you, kissing your cheek before leaving.
A few days later, when he was over jet lag, you face timed him. You were eating breakfast at the time, and he was eating dinner.
“How are you?” You ask, happy to see him again and hear his voice.
“I’m doing much better now that I get to see my beautiful girlfriend~” he coos playfully, causing you to laugh.
“Okay, okay. How was the plane trip? How are things going back home?” you ask, wanting more details.
“It went well, don’t worry. I am home safe, although it is a bit hectic at times,” he assures you.
“Why is it hectic? You’re on a break~ you need to relax!” you tell him with a huff.
“I know, I know, don’t worry, I am,” he again assures you.
“You better be,” you huff back, pouting slightly.
Just like that, your library dates were replaced with virtual ones. Some days you could only talk for a few minutes, some days you went on for hours. Every now and then, he even would sing you to sleep. You always slept well when he would.
When the holidays came, he ended up sending you a cd of songs he recorded to help you sleep.
When the semester started up again, you would meet in the library Mondays, Wednesdays, and Thursdays this time. You sat at the same table, but also flirted more when you studied. You made sure to keep up your grades, since they were incredibly important to you.
After the initial start up hump of the beginning of the semester, you started to remember something strange about Jackson that you had forgotten or just hadn’t had the time to realize before. It wasn’t quite a gut feeling of danger, but a feeling of something was wrong. He would get sick nearly every month for a few days without fail. In the last week of January, Jackson was out sick for over a week.
The following Monday, Jackson comes back to the library, and you immediately perk up. “Jackson, how are you feeling? Your roommate told me you were sick,” you ask him.
“I was, but I am feeling much better now,” he assures you, smiling.
You felt a tug in your stomach, and you knew he was lying. “Jackson, you get sick more often than… well, anyone I know. What’s wrong?” you insist.
He sighs, his smile faltering. “I have an immune disorder. I don’t like talking about it much, but I often get sick,” he tells you.
So, you believed him.
You believed him until your introductory anatomy course went over autoimmune disorders. He didn’t fit any of the basic descriptions for them. You ended up choosing to do a paper on the topic, so you ended up pressuring him more when he was at your place for a movie date night.
“Jackson, I’ve been working on a paper for autoimmune disorders. I may have to narrow it down to one in particular… So, I was wondering what one you had?” you ask him, wanting to be a supportive girlfriend.
He sighs and seems irritated about it, and you couldn’t quite tell what was wrong. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I just… I feel like I can’t tell you…” he admits, shocking you.
You felt like you had told him everything. You told him about your asthma, how your therapy sessions went, what you wanted to improve on, your insecurities about your body, even sexual things you had thought about eventually exploring with him.
But he couldn’t tell you this? After you told him about your mental health issues? You were shocked and speechless.
After a moment, you finally catch your thoughts. “Jackson… you know you can tell me anything, right?” you say softly, frowning and not realizing you were tearing up.
Jackson’s face softens, and he pulls you into a hug, rubbing your back. “I’m sorry, I know. You’re right,” he soothes, sighing slightly. “I just… don’t want you to hate me or think I am a freak or anything,” he further admits.
“Jackson, I love you. I could never,” you whisper. It was the first time you had said that.
His heart melts at your words, and he started tearing up. You pull away, and he cups your cheeks.
He lets out a short sigh, making up his mind. “Alright baby. Well, I’ll just say it,” he tells you, now opting to hold your hands. Jackson gently squeezes them as he admits, “I’m a werewolf.”
You pause, staring at him as you replay his words in your mind. You then pull away and laugh, shaking your head. “No, seriously Jackson,” you say, feeling anxious. Why would he lie to you?
“I am being serious,” he sighs, running a hand through his hair.
“Then-then prove it,” you say, but it comes out as more of a question.
Jackson sighs softly, tilting his head some. “Alright. Count to ten and come into your room,” he says, going in.
You huff, counting out loud.
“One.”
“Two.”
“Three.”
“Four.”
“Five.”
You stand up and head towards your room.
“Six.”
“Seven.”
“Eight.”
“Nine.”
“Ten.”
You turn the doorknob and say, “I’m coming in now.”
You open the door and are immediately greeted with a massive wolf. Oddly enough, he had the eyes of Jackson.
You quickly shut your door, knowing you weren’t allowed to have pets in your building.
“Um…” you begin, staring at him in confusion. You look around the room, wondering where Jackson was, only to notice his clothes on the floor. “So, you’re really-?” you begin, looking at the wolf again.
He nods and you groan, covering your face with your hands.
You hear him jump off the bed, and after hearing snapping and popping, you glance up and see Jackson pulling his pants back on. You quickly look away, your cheeks heating up as you try not to stare at his well defined body.
“Told you so,” he murmurs, smirking because he knew.
"Well this is rather awkward. What immune disorder do I choose to write about now?" You say with a laugh.
"Sorry babe. Let's go watch that movie now, yeah?" He suggests, taking your hand and leading you back to the living room.
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After learning about werewolves, Jackson would take you on hiking dates. Sometimes he would run around as a wolf, and other times you would ride him like a horse, which was probably ridiculous to look at, if anyone ever saw you. But he liked to show off.
After finals, you stayed with him for a week. You weren't ready to go home yet, but you already had to move out of the dorm you were staying in.
You were cuddling with him and watching a movie. You felt your insides burn with anxiety, having been wanting to tell him something for a while, but too embarrassed to say. See, once you admitted you were a virgin, Jackson took things very slowly with you. You enjoyed giving him blowjobs after he taught you about how he would knot, and the furthest he went on you was giving you oral once.
But now you felt ready to progress your relationship further, but you didn't know how to say it.
"Jackson," you say, feeling your cheeks heating up.
"Yes, baby?" He says, looking at you. He knew something was up and you needed to tell him something, but he honestly had no idea what it would be.
"I… think I'm ready," you admit, nibbling your lip.
"Ready for what?" He asks, raising an eyebrow in confusion.
"Having sex," you bashfully admit.
"Oh," he says, surprised. "Right now?" He asks, trying not to sound too eager.
You shake your head. "No, not right now. But soon," you assure him, feeling embarrassed.
"Well, I don't mind waiting a little longer," he assures you, kissing the top of your head.
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One minute you were grinding on Jackson, making out on the couch. The next, you and Jackson were both naked in bed. He lays you down, hovering over you as he kisses you.
“Jackson, can I give you a blowjob?”
“Don’t worry about making me feel good. I want to eat you out,” he says, pulling away from you and spreading your legs.
“Yes please,” you say, nodding softly.
He kisses your thighs, teasing you by biting and marking them. He knew this made you needy, as your thighs were sensitive. Jackson eventually kisses your clit, causing you to moan. He smirks as he licks your folds, maintaining eye contact as you blush.
“We’ve done this how many times? And you always get so bashful,” Jackson gently teases, quickly going to work.
He sucks your clitoris, his tongue flicking it as your juices leak out and onto his chin. Your hand grabs his hair, tugging as you moan. Jackson uses his strong arms to keep your legs open. He notices your hole clenching around nothing, boosting his ego.
Jackson inserts a finger, curling it up against your g spot, which causes you to cry out his name.
“You’re doing so good for me,” he whispers against your folds, pausing his kisses to your mound as he adds a second finger, working on stretching you out.
“Feels so good,” you whine, gasping as he adds a third finger. “I’m close,” you pant, reaching down to rub your clit. Jackson stops you and pulls out his fingers with a smirk.
“Jackson?!” you gasp, pouting that he took away your orgasm.
“I want to cum with you,” he explains, smiling sweetly.
You sigh and lay your head back down, nodding.
“Are you sure you don’t want to use condoms?” Jackson checks, raising an eyebrow.
“Positive. You said yourself I wasn’t fertile,” you admit, blushing some.
“Alright,” he says, teasing your folds with his tip. Jackson watches as your hole clenches around nothing, desperately wanting his cock.
“Please Jackson,” you huff, not liking how he began to rub his cock against your folds.
“I’m getting myself lubricated,” Jackson smugly responds, grinding into you, tapping his cock against your swollen bud.
“Fuck~” you cry, pulling your hair. “Please Jackson, I want to have sex with you,” you beg, tearing up in need.
“Hmm, alright,” Jackson says, slowly sliding his tip inside of you. He grabs your hands and kisses you, letting you adjust to his girth. He slowly slides in, huffing into your ear softly.
“Jackson, please move,” you beg once he bottoms out.
“Yes ma’am,” he teases you, starting with slow thrusts. Jackson greedily watches your breasts bounce with each thrust, a near-feral grin finding its way on his face.
“Faster, please,” you murmur, doing your best to keep your eyes open as you squeeze his hands.
He readily obliges, and you groan as the sound of skin slapping skin fills the room with both of your moans.
“I’m not gonna last that long,” he admits with a laugh.
You nod and he lets go of one of your hands, rubbing your clit. You grab your breast and pinch your nipples, stimulating yourself as you near your high.
He suddenly begins to cum with a loud groan of your name, his thrusts harder than before. You cry out in pleasure, which soon turns into a whimper as he begins to knot you.
“You’re doing so well, Y/N, you’re doing so good,” Jackson begins to praise. It takes all of his strength not to collapse on top of you, but he manages to nuzzle into your neck and kiss your sweet spot there.
You groan softly, brushing your damp hair out of your eyes. “I love you,” you say, smiling tiredly.
“I love you too.”
You wake up the next day naked and alone in bed. You look around, wondering where Jackson went. “Jackson?” you softly call, looking for him.
But something about his apartment was… off.
You carefully get up, your legs feeling a bit weak, and go use the bathroom. His toothbrush and razor were missing.
You go out into the kitchen and living room, and still no Jackson.
When you go back into the bedroom, you notice that his phone was missing. You open the closet and his dresser, and there were no clothes.
For one whatever reason, Jackson was gone.
161 notes · View notes
boldlyvoid · 3 years
Text
Only Time Will Tell | Part 2
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18+
Summary: Fifteen years after a horrible breakup, Y/N and spencer figure out that time can heal almost everything.
Content Warnings: angst, parental death, mentions of cancer and suicide. Bi reader, bi spencer, recounting childhood relationships, slight angst, spencer's headaches, abusive relationships (not spencer and reader) blood tests, spencer's addiction issues, getting together, smut, unprotected sex, dirty talk, switch spencer, sub reader, smut (not super graphic)
Word Count: 6.5K
Part One | Part Two | Part Three
When she wakes up she’s incredibly confused. She stares up at the bumpy stucco ceiling and Spencer laying on her chest and it feels like she’s gone back in time. He’s so snuggled into her, but her body is different than when she was 15, a lot different. He has a handful of one boob and his face on the other and she just shakes her head at the sight.
She kisses his forehead and strokes his hair and she lets it happen, because this is how she’s wanted to wake up every single day for the past 15 years. She’s spent just as long away from him as she’s spent loving him and she never realized how much it would hurt to think about it when she got him back.
She expected all the pain to go away, and while she’s a doctor and she knows way too much about the human brain, she still expected him to make her instantly happy. It wasn’t going to happen like that. Yes the hormones and endorphins were going to help, hugs and kisses and cuddles, sleeping beside him and hopefully sex… all those would contribute to making her feel happy, but at the end of the day her depression was always going to sit in the corner and attack when she was the most vulnerable.
Even with her last crush, it was good until she was alone. She’d cuddle with her all night with her lips pressed to her shoulder, wishing more than anything that she could feel that good forever… and it faded away when she realized she’d never have her. Unlike how she feels with Spencer right now.
He starts to wake up, also confused she guesses because he pulls away and sits right up with wide eyes and a horrified look on his face that just makes her laugh. “It’s fine, lay back down,” she pulls him back in and he settles, but the hand that was on her boob is now on her arm and he doesn’t say a word.
“How was your sleep?” She eventually asks, it’s the slightest whisper as she runs her fingers over his back the way he liked when he was younger.
“Really good,” he whispers back, “I haven’t slept this long in probably 15 years.”
“That makes one of us,” she smirks, “I sleep so much, it’s never refreshing but I sleep a lot.”
“I have really bad headaches, and no one can give me answers for them, I want to sleep but normally I can't.”
“What do you mean no one has answers?” She feels a little defensive, “have you had a brain scan or done blood work?”
“I’ve done it all,” he sighs, and she lifts him off of her.
“Do you have them here? Can I look?” She starts to worry for him, wanting to see everything she can and help him.
“Yeah,” he gets out of bed and rummages through his things, pulling out a few manila folders.
She grabs her phone and turns the flash on, laying it face down on the bed and shining up towards the ceiling, she takes out his MRI, a CT scan and holds them over the light one by one. “Your gray matter is so thick…”
“Is that a bad thing?”
“You’re a genius, tell me what gray matter does,” she teases, remembering how she used to use him as a google before Google was even invented.
“It's found throughout the central nervous system and controls movement, memory and emotions…”
“You’re a genius, I’ve always wondered how it would look,” she is fascinated with these normally, but Spencer’s is her favourite so far. “Your brain looks good, there’s nothing alarming, nothing out of the ordinary, but that doesn’t mean it’s all working right.”
He just hums along, she places them all back in their folders and opens his folder of paperwork, reading all his blog tests, “this is just basic stuff?”
He nods, “they won't test anything without reason.”
“Come to my lab? I’ll run every test in the book, you’re technically a schizophrenia research candidate so no one will care.”
“Really?” He looks almost excited, “I can take the morning off?”
“Okay,” she smiles, “let’s get ready then.”
She makes a phone call in Spencer’s kitchen, he’s still in the shower but Y/N’s completely dressed and ready for the day with the little supplies she brought in her bag. But she needs help.
“What?” The man answers first.
“It’s just me, put her on.”
“I’ve got this—Hello,” her best friend snatches the phone from him and answers with a smile she can hear, “how are you, bestie?”
“Hi Maeve,” she whispers with a smile.
“Why are we whispering?” She teases, “are you at someone’s house?”
“Yes,” she smiles, “I’m at Spencer’s.”
“No fucking way…” she whispers, “why didn’t you call me after your coffee date on Tuesday? I was so excited to hear about it.”
“I tried, but Bobby picked up and said you weren’t available,” she replied with a deep sigh, not hiding the fact that she hates Maeve’s fiancé.
“Oh,” she sounds ashamed and it makes Y/N feel bad for her, “well, how’d it go?”
“Good, we had a very PG13 sleep over the way we used to, It was nice waking up with him again, but I’m taking him into work today to do some blood work, I was wondering if I could send you some of his results? He’s getting headaches that he says are pretty debilitating?”
“Hmm, I’m free this morning once Bobby leaves for work, has he had any prior tests? I can come by and meet my best friend's best friend?” Maeve all but begs, that same pleading tone in her voice that Y/N loves.
“Of course, I’d never turn down a visit from you, I’ve missed you a lot,” she smiles at the floor, “and you’re really going to like Spencer.”
“I’m sure I will, do you think everything’s going to work out between you two?”
“I’m not sure yet,” her smile fades at the admission, “I don’t want to get my hopes up, but given the fact he texted me worried for my well-being and he’s been so adamant about hanging out… I’d like to say things are going back to normal.”
“Awe,” she swoons, “I love stories like this, you know that. I’m so glad you’re finally talking to him again, I thought I was going to have to bring you into my marriage, sister-wife style, in order to make you happier.”
“You could still leave Bobby for me,” she teases. “If this doesn’t work out, I still need a wife?” She teases and Maeve laughs and it makes her smile wide and toothy.
“Okay, I’ll think about it,” she whispers, “I’ll see you at work? In like an hour?”
“Do you want a coffee? We’re probably going to stop on the way,” Y/N offers, finally looking up from the pattern in the kitchen tile to see Spencer standing in the doorway.
“Just my usual,” she can hear Maeve’s smile, “but I’ll see you then, bye, love you.”
“Love you too,” she hangs up and stutters as she looks at Spencer, “I didn’t hear the water turn off?”
He’s standing there in a dark purple towel, one around his waist and one tightly wrapping his hair, he looks silly but she loves it. “Who was that?”
“My best friend,” she presses her lips together awkwardly, “she’s a geneticist, and if you have a deficiency causing these headaches she’s the best one to figure it out.”
“Thank you for caring this much,” it sounds so sad, she can tell he’s not used to this kind of effort being put in for him anymore.
“I’m very used to protecting you, it’s not something I can drop, even after fifteen years,” she reminds him, “I hate to think that you’ve had to do it alone for so long.”
“It’s been hard,” he agrees. “How is this going to work?”
“What?”
“Being best friends? Because as much as everyone on my team says they’re my best friend, I don’t feel close enough to anyone to give them that title anymore, not since I stopped talking to you,” it’s a lot to take in at a quarter to 8 in the morning.
Her eyes just go wide and she feels so bad for him, but at the same time, he did that to himself. He could have reached out, he could have stayed. There are lots of things he could do, and now the only thing she wants to do is let it go.
“Maeve means a lot to me, you’ll like her,” she steps into his space and pokes his wet chest, “she’s the only woman in her field, I’m the only woman in mine, we met at a talk a few years back and she’s been my person for so long.”
“Why couldn’t she go to get the time capsule with you?”
“She can’t leave the state,” Y/N admits, “she has a stalker and she won't tell me much, she doesn’t want me involved, she’s a little scared. And Bobby won't even let her answer the phone anymore, she’s why I reached out. She believes in fairytales and happy endings and after everything I’ve told her she said this love story has all the makings of a romantic comedy.”
Spencer laughs, “she’s not wrong.”
“She’s always going to be my best friend, but I can have two,” Y/N suggests, looking up at him and raising a brow.
“I don’t mind sharing,” he whispers.
It looks like he wants to kiss her and she desperately wants to lean in and let him, but he backs up. “I’m just going to change and then I’ll meet you back out here.”
“Yeah, course,” she lets him walk away and her heartbeat is audible in her ears.
She’ll always love Spencer, and yet a part of her wonders what would’ve happened if she had actually asked Maeve out that week before she met Bobby. Then she’d be able to go to the cops about the stalker, then she’d keep her safe all the time, and then again maybe she wouldn’t be here with Spencer trying to make it work if she was with Maeve.
It’s a lot to deal with at 8 in the morning.
She walks down to the building's garage with Spencer, he’s all dressed and ready for the day and he looks great. He dresses better than when he was a teenager, everything matches, it’s pressed and clean and he honestly could walk the runway like this.
And then she sees it.
“You still have it?”
“Shit,” Spencer whispers, “we can take the subway or a cab or something if this is triggering at all?”
“No,” she assures him, “I’m not triggered, just shocked that Amy still runs?”
“I’m an engineer, remember? I know how to keep her going.”
She runs her hand along with the blue paint of Diana’s old Volvo Amazon, who they appropriately named Amy when they were kids. She looks in at the backseat, the tear in the seat is still there from when the button on her jeans got stuck, the light in the radio is still burned out, unable to tell the time. The seats are just as comfortable, she turns on just as loud as before, and she never thought she’d say she missed the smell.
They stop at a coffee shop by the university, Spencer orders first and then it’s up to her, “can I get an iced coffee and—“
“A white hot chocolate with a blueberry tea bag in it? Absolutely,” the barista smiles, “anything else today, Y/N?”
“Not today, Katie,” she smiles, taking out the normal amount and a decent tip, “how’s school going?”
“Good, thank you for that study guide, I got a 92 on my last Bio test,” she’s unbelievably giddy and it makes Y/N’s day.
“that’s amazing,” Y/N makes the most basic small talk before joining Spencer by the counter.
“How do you know everyone?” Spencer whispers and nudges her shoulder with his own.
“I talk to people,” she nudges him back, “you’d be amazed by what happens when you let people in.”
Spencer hums, they watch Katie make their drinks carefully and quickly, putting them in a tray and handing them to Y/N with a smile. “Have a wonderful day.”
“You too!” Y/N calls back and waits for Spencer to get the door for them.
And then he opens the passenger door for her too. “So, I have to ask…” Spencer says as they finally get back in the car. He places his coffee in the cup holder, “were you and Maeve together at some point?”
“No…”
“Oh,” he drops it when he realizes it’s not a question she wants to be asked.
The rest of the drive is quiet, she sips her coffee and looks out the window and he taps the steering wheel the way he always used to do. “Have you dated anyone in the last 15 years?”
“Not really,” he shrugs, “I have been on dates but nothing’s really worked out.”
“Hmm,” she says before she drops it.
Pulling into her work, he parks in her spot and the two of them get out and begin their walk to the elevators and then he asks another question.
“So you haven’t dated or been with anyone since we broke up?” He looks a little shocked.
“Not really,” she shakes her head, “I don’t feel the need to? I’m not lonely, I’m busy.”
“Oh.”
The elevator dings and she walks out first, through the main hall and towards the lab. She puts on her coat and hands Spencer a blank one, “these are my Ph.D. candidates.”
Inside she has 4 students all dressed up and doing their work and Spencer waves awkwardly as they look up at him. “Good morning guys.”
“Morning doctor,” they reply in unison.
“My friend Spencer here has a genetic predisposition for schizophrenia so I’m just going to run the basic tests but he’s not going to be in any of the trials.”
“Sounds good,” one of them smiles.
“We’ll be in here if you need me,” she points at her office and Spencer follows her inside. “Oh, and Maeve is coming in as well, tell her to come right in.”
“Why? How many people have you slept with?” She suddenly closes the door, resuming their conversation immediately.
“Including you,” he does the calculations on his fingers, letting out a deep breath he was keeping in. “Elle, Ethan, and a handful of one-night stands…”
“That’s not too bad,” she shrugs and then she can’t help but laugh, “but Ethan? Really?”
Spencer nods with a smirk, “I told you I would one day.”
She laughs, remembering how much they hated each other. Ethan was a pain in the ass, flirting with both of them to piss the other off, especially when they were all on opposite mathlete teams… but Spencer did have a crush and she was secure enough in their relationship back then to just laugh it off, like she is now.
“How did it even happen?” She asks, taking out all the supplies from the cupboard, and returning to him with an elastic band.
“I went to see him in New Orleans because I was addicted to drugs and he’s an alcoholic and I wanted him to tell me not to waste my life away because no one else was going to do it.”
“Wait, addicted? I thought it was just the one case?” Her whole body reacts, her heart drops and her breathing changes and she worries for him in a way she hasn’t felt in years. “Do you want me to do this in your hand so you don’t get triggered?”
He shakes his head, “no, it’s fine,” and then he takes a chip out of his pocket, “it was nice to not feel anything for a while.”
He hands it to her, it’s a 5-year chip and it makes her smile. “I’m always going to be proud of you.”
“I know.”
She hands it back to him and he puts it back where it belongs and the conversation dies there as she takes his blood and he looks away. She has a few vials, she puts his name on them and turns back to him. “Can I ask who Elle is?”
“She was on my team,” he presses his lips together and she knows there’s more in there.
“And?”
“She was shot and had terrible PTSD after, I checked on her one night and she was drinking and we got to talking about her feelings and she didn’t want to be alone… the next night she killed a serial rapist and claimed self-defence but I know she killed him because we couldn’t get justice for his victims. She put justice into her own hands, and then she left.”
“Do you live in a soap opera?” She teases, “damn, okay. I mean good for her, she probably thought if she was going to prison at least she could get some dick first.”
“That’s what I thought for a while too,” Spencer nods along, only slightly sad. “But then I thought about what I did to you, and I figured she didn’t need a reason to sleep with me and leave me, sometimes it just happens and there isn’t a good reason.”
“It’s different for boys,” she combats. “And you weren’t a virgin then, you were what? 24? You were almost a full-brained man.”
“I know.”
She needs to let it go, she takes a deep breath and closes her eyes, “sorry.”
“You’re not wrong. The damage I must have caused isn’t something that heals fast,” he explains and it starts to feel like a profile. “You haven’t just not slept with anyone because you don’t want to. It’s because you’re scared. We were really young, we were stupid, and I hurt you to the point where you can’t let in anyone who will leave you. I’m going to keep saying I’m sorry even though I know I can’t remove the scars, they’re always going to be there.”
“I hate you sometimes,” she whispers, turning away from him and gripping the counter. “You didn’t have to read me like that. Not everything is your fault you know, I’ve tried. I’ve wanted to and none of the people I’ve dated were good enough and the person I wanted to sleep with the most found someone else before I had the courage to do anything about it.”
“I’m sorry.”
She turns back to him with a straight face, “I wanted to feel loved more than I wanted to be fucked. You damaged my heart, not my vagina.”
He tries not to laugh, biting his lips and yet the air that leaves his nose sounds like a laugh, she turns her attention back to him, playfully outraged that he would laugh. “You’re a dick.”
“I missed you a lot,” he smiles, “and I’m really glad you reached out.”
When Maeve comes in, Y/N wraps herself around her so tight that Maeve laughs. “Hello lovely,” she whispers against her and Y/N’s heart flutters just a bit.
“Were you safe?” Y/N worries and brushes her hands along her arms as she looks her over. “You weren’t followed or anything?”
“No,” Maeve assures her and hugs her once more, “you look so good, I’ve missed you.”
“I’ve missed you,” she rocks her back and forth slightly and then turns to introduce her to Spencer, who’s now standing.
“This is Doctor Spencer Reid, Spencer this is Doctor Maeve Donovan, my best friend,” Y/N turns to him and Spencer looks at her like he knows her from somewhere.
“wait—
“Journal of Behavioural Psych… I’ve already seen your brain,” Maeve fills in the blanks. “I didn’t reply to your email because I knew you were Y/N’s Spencer.”
“Oh…” Spencer can’t really believe it.
“And I had no idea you have schizophrenia in your family either…” she stares at Y/N with her brows raised.
“Stop,” she whispers under her breath. “I told you.”
“It was between Alzheimer's in Texas and Schizophrenia here,” Spencer repeats. “I always thought I’d be the one to cure it for my mom, but I’m glad it’s you.”
Maeve just smiles at him and Y/N can’t stop smiling at her, it’s surreal to have her best friends meet.
They all catch up with their drinks in her office. Sitting at Y/N’s desk and sharing their stories, Spencer’s medical issues, Y/N’s flight anxiety and Maeve’s stalker.
“I actually got this yesterday…” she takes a letter out of her purse and hands it to them. “I think I’m going to dye my hair brown and move out of Bobby’s apartment. And I might hide for a bit.”
“No,” Y/N shakes her head, “we can get Penelope and the rest of Spencer’s friends to look into this, please? Please you can’t hide anymore this is too serious.”
“This is classic stalker behaviour,” Spencer says as he reads over the letter a few times. “They want to murder you and then kill themselves… do they bring this up often?”
“Yeah,” Maeve agrees. “He has a thing with suicide he’s said I should just kill myself and spare everyone the stress…”
“Wait,” Y/N stands and flicks through all her paperwork, “that girl who you turned down for a Ph.D. handed in the same thesis to me about cell deterioration in people with suicidal ideation.”
“That sounds like it matches up,” Spencer agrees. “I think I can have Penelope email you some information on the student so you can take it to the police?”
“Thank you, Spencer,” she smiles at him and Y/N can’t help but feel like a third wheel somehow.
Because of course her straight best friend, who she’s been in love with for 2 years, would meet her ex-boyfriend and be instantly attracted to him. It’s her luck. And by the way, Spencer is smiling at her, she knows he thinks she’s pretty. She’s known him long enough to remember when he looked at her like that… she clears her throat and gets them to stop making googly eyes at each other.
“We have a flight to catch soon too,” she reminds him. “I’m going to go work with my students if you two want to stay here and talk to Spencer’s co-workers.”
“Yeah,” Maeve agrees quickly. “That sounds good.”
“Can I talk to you first?” Spencer asks, pulling her into the other room and closing the door.
“What’s up?”
“You’re jealous,” he reads her just as well as she reads him.
“And you think she’s pretty,” she bites back. “I’m not jealous, I’m envois. I wished for a very long time that she would love me back and all it takes is a single smile from you and she’s probably willing to leave bobby.”
“But she’s not you,” Spencer replies. “It’s not that easy for me to fall in love, you know that. It took us years to fall as in love with each other as we were and it never went away. Meeting her can’t replace how I feel about you.”
“We can’t do this now,” she stops him. “Sit on it, tell me tomorrow when we open the time capsule. Mean it when you say it, don’t just try and calm me down with your words.”
She leaves the room, walking right past Maeve and into the lab. Helping the first student to call her attention and leaving her best friends to mingle.
She has a nap on the plane, Spencer did too, their heads resting against each other as they slept through the turbulence and the crying babies, waking up for the landing and departure. They get a car for the weekend, and the drive to her parent's house is so, so, so quiet.
“I’m not ready for how weird this is going to be” She whispers.
“It’s not going to be weird.”
“Yes, it is,” she’s adamant.
Her bed is still there for them to spend the night in, so are her parent's and brothers' beds if he doesn’t want to sleep beside her. And the couches and the fridge and anything big that she couldn’t move out alone yet.
“Why? Because we have to sleep in the same bed again, because it’s the house with all our memories or because the time capsule has letters addressed to our kids?”
“Yes.”
They both laugh at her bluntness, “we were so hopeful back then.”
“We had no reason not to be,” he says. “Your parents were very good at reminding me that our dreams can come true if we work hard enough.”
“They were great parents,” she agrees. “I miss them so much…”
“Would it be weird if I went to the grave?”
“No,” she lets out a deep breath, “they loved you.”
He pulls onto their old street and her heart is in her stomach. She can’t believe they’re actually doing this, they’re actually together again at her parent's house. He pulls into her driveway, her dad's truck is still parked out front and it looks exactly the same as it used to.
They grab their bags, she opens the door and then they’re alone in her old house. “See,” she teases, “it feels fuckin weird.”
“It’s so cold,” Spencer whispers. “Not like freezing, it just doesn’t feel right in here.”
“I know,” she agrees, taking her things and heading up the stairs towards her old bedroom.
“It’s grey…” Spencer whispers as he enters the room. “What happened to the purple?”
“My mom was bored when she was recovering from the chemo and she wanted to paint, so we did it,” she shrugs, “it was a fun weekend.”
Spencer puts his things in the corner and somehow it feels like they’re 15 again. He used to put his backpack there, he’d kick off his shoes and dive into her bed, waiting for afternoon cuddles and a nap before dinner and then they’d do homework until her curfew when he’d walk back to his house and wave to her from his window.
He kicks off his shoes again and she just sits on the edge of her bed, watching him. He takes off his suit jacket and hangs it on the hook behind her door, another thing he remembered to do almost by instinct.
“It’s like you never left,” she whispers.
He nods, “can I tell you now that I feel the same way, that I miss being loved too.”
It’s way too early in the weekend to be here already. “No,” she whispers. “Don’t do this to me again, please? Don’t offer to love me if you’re not certain that you’ll stay.”
“No one can be?” He reminds her as he sits beside her on her bed.
“You dying and you breaking my heart are two very different things,” she replies. “It would be easier if you died.”
“How?” He looks offended.
“Because then no one else can have you,” she can’t look at him and the tears come back. It fucking sucks. It hurts and she’s embarrassed.
“It’s killed me thinking about you all these years, wondering if you ever replaced me. I spent my whole childhood dreaming about being your wife and then I had to just imagine you with someone else for the last 15 years and it sucked.”
He doesn’t reply.
She shakes the tears away, clearing her throat slightly, “we’re either together or we’re not. Pick one. I can’t be stuck in limbo anymore.”
“No, I can’t just agree to go back to how it was before,” he shakes his head, “I’m not going to live up to your expectations. We are two completely different people now, we can’t just pick up where we left off without us fighting about it. I’m never going to be the same to you as I was when we were kids because I don’t know who that Spencer is anymore. I haven’t been him for a long time and this Spencer is really bad at pretending.”
He’s more assertive now, he was never this confident to fight with her when they were kids and then again he didn’t have a reason to.
They were happy back then.
“Would you like to date again and get to know each other as we are now?” She compromises.
“What if you don’t like who I am now? What if I let you down?”
“You can’t,” she can’t help but smile. “Because even after everything that’s happened, just looking at you fills me with the same feeling it did when we were kids. You’re always going to be my best friend, no matter what, even if we don’t have the same interests anymore or if you’re a bit more annoying…”
It makes him giggle and that’s what she wanted, “see? Look at us? We can do this, we just have to talk about it. I’m open to the fact that you’re a different man now from your trauma and you’re accepting of the fact I’m incredibly damaged from mine, and that we might always be, but one day we’ll laugh about it.”
“I’m not sure I’ll be laughing,” he teases and it feels like it did back then.
“No? I’m going to bring it up to tease you then,” she warns him, “because you’re cute when you’re frustrated.”
“You’re also more annoying than I remember,” he teases her right back and moves in to tickle her the way he used to.
She’s still ticklish. And he still remembers where. He tackles her back against the bed and she tries to push him off but she’s already giggling too hard, eyes closed as she tries to squirm out of his reach. But his arms are somehow longer than before? He wraps around her and digs into her sides with a hearty laugh and then it becomes a hug.
She settles again and he’s still on top of her and her arms wrap around him. His face is in the crook of her neck and she rests her cheek on his head, brushing her jaw along his hair and breathing deeply. She’s missed this so much in the last 15 years.
“I still love you,” he’s the one to say it first and all the tension in her body drops.
“Thank god,” she sighs and holds him a bit tighter. “I still love you.”
There’s a weird feeling in the air, one she hasn’t felt in a very long time. Not since they were sitting in that field, in Spencer’s mom's car, trying to figure out how they were going to have sex in the back seat.
She kisses the top of his head gently and he kisses the side of her neck in return and her breathing hitches. So he kisses her again, this time on the pulse point and up towards her Jaw and her eyes close as she leans into the contact.
It’s been a very long time since he’s seen most of her body, and yet as he strips her clothes off and covers her with his lips, it’s like nothings changed. He did this the first time too, carefully kissing everywhere but with a lot more nerves.
“It’s been a very long time since I’ve done this,” she reminds him, “so please don’t stop.”
He laughs, kissing her cheek and looking down at her. “We’re doing this?”
She nods, “there’s no one here to stop us.”
“And no reason to stay quiet,” he teases back, looking around her room quickly, “it’s strange being back here.”
“We never actually had sex in here,” she whispers, pecking his lips softly and then realizing that’s the first real kiss they’ve shared in 15 years.
He lunges in and kisses her again, hand on her cheek as she rests back against the pillow, he slides a leg in-between her own, grinding against her softly as he kisses her, swiping a tongue along her bottom lip, he used to love making out with her.
They could make out for hours on end, hot and heavy, grinding together but never taking it anywhere. It was just as fun to them as anything else, up until they had sex for the first time. Then it was all they wanted to do, only back then they were both more scared of being caught than actually doing it, and it’s not like they hadn’t been experimenting with each other their whole lives.
They had baths together as kids, they spent a lot of time alone as children and they hit puberty at the same time… she’ll never forget the day they learned what masturbating was, they went home and tried it alone and reported right back to each other the next day.
It was always meant to happen, he was the only person she wanted to take her virginity back then. And she wasn’t mad at him for taking it and then leaving, she was mad at him for having sex with her a million more times before he left.
But he was always so delicate with her and she was just as soft with him, they loved each other and respected each other like it was second nature to them, and it was so easy to slip back into that. She knew everything he liked, he remembered what spots elicited the best responses from her. It was like they never missed a beat.
His clothes come off just as quickly as hers, she’s missed him so much over the years. Remembering their first time for far too long, thinking about him at the worst moments, typically right as pleasure overtook her. She’s been saying his name when she cums for so long it’s the only thing she knows how to do.
“Spencer please?” She whines as they grind together, her lips just as swollen as his.
She sits up and takes him with her, he kneels in front of her and she uses the free space to get off the bed and search through her suitcase. “I brought condoms for a reason,” she laughs as she hands them to him. “I figured this would happen at some point.”
“I did too,” he smirks, “but I also saw tonight that you’re on the pill?”
She nods and laughs, “you’re kidding?” She climbs back into her bed and suddenly she’s nervous, “I mean, yeah, we could? But how do I know you’re clean? You’ve slept with a lot of people since we were together.”
“6 isn’t a lot,” he retorts, “but I just thought I’d ask, I still want you to be the first person I do that with.”
“You’re asking and you can’t even say it?” She teases him, shoving him lightly and taking the condoms from him.
His whole demeanour changes then, “you’d let me fuck you raw?”
She forgets how to breathe then, simply nodding with her jaw dropped, mouth breathing, deeply, she’s shocked. She finally swallows, returning the moisture to her mouth, “yeah…”
“What else would you let me do?” He whispers, drawing her in closer until she’s sitting in his lap and running her hands down his bare chest.
“Anything,” she whispers back, “I’ve missed your touch.”
He hums, brushing his nose against hers before kissing her softly. “Do you think about me still?”
Of course he remembered when she told him that.
There was one day where he never came over, she was waiting and waiting and he wasn’t showing up so she eventually went over to get him. Finding him having an anxiety attack in his room, admitting to her and apologizing profusely for thinking about her when he masturbated the night before. He was afraid she would think he was gross and then hate him. When in reality she was thinking about him too.
She nods, “it’s hard not to when you’re the best I’ve ever had.”
“I’m all you’ve ever had,” he reminds her. Or at least so he thinks.
“No,” she shakes her head, “there was another guy in high school.”
“What?” He furrows his brows, “I thought you said you didn’t?”
“I didn’t really want to, but, I had sex with Kyle VanNuss? Do you remember him?” She asks carefully, scared that this is ruining absolutely everything when she was just so close to having him again.
“I hated him,” Spencer replies. “I’m sorry it wasn’t good.”
“it’s fine it was 12 years ago,” she laughs, “I really wanted to sleep with people, I would have loved to have been able to, but I need this first. I need to feel totally and completely safe and loved and appreciated, the way you make me feel.”
“Demisexuality is defined by—
“Don’t quote textbook definitions at me, I love you and only you and no one compares. Now if there’s a spencer-sexual term, that’s me, and that’s how I’d like to keep it,” she tries to keep a straight face but she ends up laughing and dragging him down with her.
He rests his forehead on her shoulder, arms around her waist, they’re so close and completely naked and it feels right, “this is all I want.”
She sits up a bit, reaching between them and gripping his cock at the base and he moans. He’s bigger than she remembers, he still makes such beautiful sounds as she strokes him and then she runs the head of his cock along her folds and he tosses his head back with another delicious moan.
“Put it in,” he requests.
She sinks down onto him with more ease than she thought she would, always so turned on by him, it’s easy. She bottoms out and rests back against his legs, sitting in his lap, holding him incredibly close. It feels like every single part of him is touching her and she still wants more. Reconnecting their lips, his hands move down to her hips to help her move, grinding and bouncing they make a rhythm that is completely theirs, it works and she’s so lost in him.
Moaning into his mouth, feeling his hands on her body, his chest against hers and his tongue in her mouth. It’s all she’s wanted for a very long time, and it’s overwhelming. She tries to hold herself together but it feels so good, she’s on the edge of every single emotion in the book as she rides him there.
She breaks the kiss to hold him tighter, kissing his shoulder before he picks her up and lays her back against the bed, crawling between her legs and sliding back in. It’s easier at this angle, he slides in and out so easy, his thumb is on her clit and his mouth on her breasts as she lays there, blissed out and moaning, a tear slips down her face and she quickly wipes it away.
It’s all a lot and according to him, he’s staying forever. This isn’t the last time it’ll happen, it’s actually the first of many, the first of forever, and only time will tell how long that forever lasts.
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theasstour · 4 years
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𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐎𝐧𝐞𝐬 𝐋𝐞𝐟𝐭 𝐁𝐞𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐝.
𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 𝟕.𝟓𝐤 𝐍𝐁: 𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲 𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐞, 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐭 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐠𝐞, 𝐝𝐫𝐮𝐠 𝐮𝐬𝐞, 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐲 𝐦𝐞𝐧
A/N: Thank you so much to everyone who reblogged and sent me an ask after last chapter ❣️ I might not have gotten through all the asks yet, but know that I see all of you and I appreciate you more than I will ever find the right words to articulate 🌟 Thank you for the kind words and for reminding me of how fun it is to post my stories on here! Love you sm sm sm 🥰
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Tuesday, 4 November 2017
One of the worst things Y/N knew of was seeing someone she cared about go through something troubling. If she knew them well enough, it would be written out on their face and in their gestures, making it so that she could not ever look past it and pretend everything was alright. Her ability to read people, to understand their wants and to see when something was off, was something she had crafted over many years of being a people pleaser. Now, it came naturally to her to study a person’s way of acting, talking, being, and then make them happy accordingly.
She realised when she grew older that the reason she did this was so people would look past her body and like her for who she actually was. She hated herself sometimes for still giving in to this need to please people all the time. She hated the things it had made her do in the past, how she had bent herself over backwards for people who did not, and would never, give a single shit about her. Though she felt at home in her body, she felt content in it, these tendencies to constantly make up for how she looked, to make light of it or make people feel comfortable around her, still hung around. With absolutely everything she was, Y/N hated that part of herself. She did not have to make up for anything. What did she have to apologise for? For existing? It did not make sense to her, but it had made sense to those that bullied her in school and those skinny people whose worst fear was becoming fat. Y/N’s worst fear, because of this, was not being liked. She realised how it all connected now.
Y/N realised how this need to please people came into play as she was sitting in a seminar room with Hayden, Chloe, Thian, Annalise, and three others from the International Society that Annalise often went to. Annalise was whispering in Dutch to the other Dutch girl she had met, while the rest of the room was relatively silent. Hayden had put on some music to lighten the mood, but it was evident that they were unsatisfied and sad. They were eight people; a single game of Uno was being played in a room that had been made so that at least 20 people would show up. Hayden had bought five decks of Uno, only for the one they brought with them to London to be the one the group ended up using. Their eyes drifted to the door every so often, silently begging for anyone else to show up to what looked to be a disastrous start to their Uno Society.
After two hours, they had to get out of the seminar room and go back home. As they were cleaning up, Y/N walked over to Hayden and helped them put their Uno decks and everything else they brought, back in their bag.
“More people will show up next time,” Y/N assured them.
“You’re just saying that.”
“No, I genuinely think more people will show up at one point.”
Hayden smiled at Y/N, though it did not reach their eyes. “If we don’t have at least 15 people by the third meeting, this won’t be considered a society by Helmond standards and we won’t be allowed to meet on campus grounds.”
Y/N felt a small tinge of panic at that. This was not usually the society people would jump to be part of, it would take a little while for people to want to show up to an Uno Society on a Tuesday every fortnight.
“We can hope more people will come, but I doubt they will,” Hayden said.
“There aren’t a lot of people our age who play Uno, though,” Chloe said as Hayden and Y/N made their way to the door.
Y/N furrowed her brows at Chloe’s comment, but did not say a word.
“No, but I love Uno, and it’s a very social game. It’ll be fun if a lot of people show up, you know?” Hayden said, closing the door behind them before they walked down the corridor for the exit.
“Obviously, people just don’t know what they’re missing,” Thian chimed in, showing off his usually wide, happy beam. “It’s a great idea, Hay.”
“Really? It’s not bound to flop?” Hayden asked, scrunching up their nose as if they could not quite believe what Thian was saying.
“Of course not,” Annalise said.
“It’s a nice break from all the assignments,” Y/N said.
“By the way, speaking of assignments,” Chloe groaned. “Y/N, have you started on the Othello presentation yet?”
“You haven’t had the presentation yet?” Thian asked.
“No, different Introduction to English Studies seminar groups have presentations at different dates,” Chloe said. “Since Y/N and I are seminar group E, we have it last. Monday, 4th of December.”
“That’s still a while away, though,” Hayden pointed out. “You still got a month.”
“Yeah, but the presentation’s 40% of the final grade. I know I’ll ace the essay, but we only get to have a five-minute presentation on Othello.” Chloe rolled her eyes. “How am I supposed to talk about how Othello’s a sexist play in just five minutes?”
“Easy,” Thian said. “You talk about how it’s a sexist play for just five minutes. You love to talk, it’ll be easy peasy.”
“I love to gossip, this is entirely different,” Chloe complained.
“Not really,” Y/N said, cocking her head a little to the side as the group rounded a corner. “You’re essentially just gonna gossip about Othello and what’s wrong with him and the way Shakespeare wrote the play.”
Chloe stared at Y/N for a few seconds, pursing her lips as she thought. A grin spread out across her lips and she nudged Y/N’s shoulder. “You’re right.”
“It’s gonna be fine,” Annalise smiled.
“And by the time that happens, the Uno society will be history,” Hayden mumbled, making Thian pout his bottom lip and wrap an arm around Hayden’s shoulders. They all made their way back to Dinwiddy, Lancaster Complex, and Fleming Hall, three of the seven different campus accommodations. Dinwiddy was definitely of a bit better standard than Lancaster and Fleming, but Y/N was sure that, had she decided to live on campus, she would have gone for either Lancaster or Fleming like Annalise, Thian, and Hayden. She said goodbye to all of them and went on her way, walking back to Haggerston while talking to her parents on the phone. They always insisted she call them if she walked out alone at night, no matter how many people were around.
The shops she strolled by were starting to put up Christmas decorations and sales, making Y/N long for holiday. She just wanted a few days off uni. Though it was only the first year, the amount of work they were getting was ridiculous, and Y/N felt like she either spent most of her time in the library with her Literature gang, or at a café with Nathan, doing uni work. The fact that Christmas lights and decorations were already making an appearance, gave her some hope.
Getting to Orsman Road was no problem, and Y/N hung up with her parents when she reached the flat building. The mere thought of her bed made her knees buckle, she could not wait to be snuggled up in a blanket and watching the newest true crime series on Netflix. Once inside, she got her shoes and outwear off, then walked straight for the kitchen. She halted.
In a pair of worn-out black rugby shorts and a black hoodie, Harry stood pouring water into the kettle. The muscles in his legs flexed and unflexed as he moved, making it impossible to look away from his thighs. Y/N could not find the right words to express just how much she hated those tiny shorts. It was as if he knew exactly what he was doing. Except he didn’t. He was very much just trying to wear something comfortable at home and Y/N was ogling him. He looked up as she entered.
“Hi,” Y/N said, walking over to the fridge where she kept her oat and banana milk.
“Hi,” Harry answered, watching her as she walked before putting the kettle on. “Been out shagging old men?”
Y/N blinked a few times before looking over at Harry as he put a teabag into his mug. “You’re very obsessed with my sex life.”
“I’m just nosy.”
Y/N sighed, knowing this was true from experience, and went back to getting her milk out of the fridge. “No, I was at a society meeting. The first one, actually.”
“Oh?” She could see in her peripheral vision that he turned around to watch her. “What kind of society?”
“Uno.”
Silence settled in the kitchen, and Y/N could hear Nathan and Mason in the living room next door playing something on the PlayStation. Y/N could feel Harry continue to just look at her as she poured herself a glass of the oat and banana milk. It was not until the milk was back in the fridge and Y/N met his eyes, that Harry spoke again.
“Uno?”
“Like the card game.”
“That’s… a niche interest.”
She raised her eyebrows. “And you’re being judgemental.”
Harry’s eyes grew wide. “No, no, no! I-“ He stopped himself, taking a grip of the kettle and quickly pouring himself a cuppa before meeting Y/N’s eyes again, something frantic shining within his own. “It’s just a very specific interest and society.”
She raised one of her shoulders. “Which is what makes it so amazing.”
“Yes. Yes, of course,” Harry said quickly, gesturing at her with his hand as if he completely agreed. Y/N wanted to laugh at how fast he was talking, as if he was desperate for her to understand that he was not being judgemental. “How was it?”
“Barely anyone showed up,” Y/N explained, sipping her milk.
Harry frowned. “Really?”
“Yeah, and at least 15 people total have to show up for it to be considered a society, or else Hayden, my course mate, can’t continue hosting on campus grounds.” Y/N sighed, looking at the ground. “Basically, if Hayden doesn’t find, like, twelve more people to join within the next two times, we won’t have a society any longer.”
Harry opened his mouth as if to say something, but just then, the sound of quick footsteps could be heard, and then Nathan’s face appeared in the doorway. A grin spread out on his face as he met Y/N’s eyes.
“Thought I heard you come in!” he exclaimed. “We’re playing GTA, wanna come drive some people over?”
Y/N smiled at that, scrunching up her nose. “As appealing as that sounds, I’m gonna have to decline.”
Nathan pouted his lips and Harry stood watching quietly. “Why?” Nathan asked.
“Have an essay that I need to finish.”
Nathan sighed heavily. “Fine. Guess I’ll let you write that bloody essay.”
“Excuse you? ‘Let me’?” Y/N rolled her eyes and Nathan laughed. She gave him and then Harry a smile, making her way out of the kitchen.
“Have a good night,” she heard Harry say as she walked through the doorway. She gave him another smile before walking up the stairs and to her room. She quickly got out of her clothes and into loungewear, taking all her make-up off and finding a fluffy blanket she could sit under in bed as she started writing her Introduction to English Studies essay. She could hear the boys shouting and playing downstairs and drowned it out by putting her earbuds in and shutting them out.
She ended up reading academic articles and writing down an essay plan until she felt her eyelids get heavy a few hours later. Putting her laptop away and finishing her oat and banana milk, Y/N took her contacts off and started getting ready for bed. The door to the room beside hers opened and closed, she could hear Harry rummaging in his room, though the sound was not disturbing in any way. The only disturbing thing about it was the fact that it was Harry, but Y/N was learning to accept that. It had only taken her two months, but she was coming to terms with the fact that Harry Styles, an ex-good friend of hers and person she had sex with once, was living and sleeping in the room right next to hers.
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Friday, 17 November 2017
The pizza at Domino’s was absolutely amazing, but working for them was anything but. This was only Y/N’s first shift, and she was already dreading her next. Not only would she be bringing home with her the memories of a horrible first day on her new job, but she would also be bringing the smell of greasy pizza. She would have to do a deep clean in the shower before going to bed, she was not rubbing that smell onto her bedsheets.
With some experience working for Pizza Express before, Y/N was already well-versed working for a pizza chain. Pizza Express had been her job from 15 until she moved off to uni at 19, which she knew was what must have given her this new job at Domino’s rather quickly. As much experience as she had working at Pizza Express serving people, she had never been the one to drive around delivering pizzas. After all, she had not gotten her license until sometime last year, so it had never been a possibility. However, in the job description for this position at Domino’s, it had clearly stated that Y/N would be working mostly as a delivery driver, something that sounded chill at first, until she realised she would have to go deliver pizza to people that would be anything but friendly. Or maybe a little too friendly. Because of her inexperience in this particular field of the job, she had another employer join her for her first shift.
Isla was very quiet, maybe even a little too quiet for Y/N’s taste. She would mostly just stare out the window, sometimes chime in to help Y/N pick a quicker route, or help her make out how much she owed the customer if they paid a few quid too many. Other than that, Isla did not really offer much conversation wise. Even when the two of them picked up the pizzas for their first drive, the first time they spent together, Isla did not say much.
“Have you worked here long?” Y/N asked, giving Isla a smile so she would know that she was actually asking out of curiosity and not because she felt obliged to.
“A year.”
Y/N nodded as she sat down behind the wheel, Isla sitting down in the passenger seat. “I worked in Pizza Express at home in Nottingham before I moved here. Dunno why, I’ve always preferred Domino’s to Pizza Express. Though, Zizzi is top tier.”
Isla only nodded slightly.
Y/N had waited for a response, but realising she would not be getting one, she started the Domino’s car and started driving in the direction out of the parking spot on the street beside the tiny restaurant on Homefield Street. Y/N almost drove right into the Domino’s mopeds that all stood on the spot in front of the car. She just knew that at one point, she would be driving one of those. She followed the instructions on the GPS, up Hoxton Street, in the direction of Lavender Grove. Without any radio on, the car was very quiet. Too quiet. It made Y/N break out in sweat.
“Do you drive around with deliveries often?” Y/N asked.
Isla shook her head. “No.”
Y/N whipped her head back in the direction of the street in front of her, trying to produce spit so she could nervously swallow. Her mouth was too dry. “You work by the till then?”
“Mostly.”
Y/N smiled. “That’s the best place to work, isn’t it? Don’t have to drive around, don’t have to actually make the food.”
Isla gave a feeble smile. “I suppose.”
God, all Y/N wanted as an okay day. All she wanted was for one single day to be alright.
Isla would twine a single piece of her brown, bushy hair around her finger sometimes, then put it behind her ear, only to go back to fidgeting with it. Y/N was unsure if she was nervous to be in a car with someone she did not know, or if she was just deep in thought. Y/N wanted to get to know Isla, to make a friend at her new workplace, but she did not want to harass Isla if it meant it would make her uncomfortable. It was clear that she did not like being this close to Y/N considering the two had never met before and would now be spending a good six hours together. Therefore, to not push away what she hoped to be a future mate, she only made occasional conversation and then left Isla mostly to herself. She could sense that was what her companion wanted most of all.
In a particularly dodgy part of Lea Bridge, Y/N was delivering three pizzas to what she knew even before knocking on the door, would be to a rather creepy encounter. The man that opened the door was bald with glassy eyes and a blue tee shirt tucked into his grey joggers. At the sight of Y/N, he grinned.
“Three pepperonis?” she asked, wondering if this man just really loved pepperoni pizzas or if he was hosting a party.
“That’s me, yeah.”
“Alright.” Y/N handed him the three pizzas just as another man emerged from behind him, and it was then that Y/N noticed the incredible stench of alcohol and cigarettes. Some 80s rock was playing from a stereo and there did not seem to be much light on inside the flat. Y/N suddenly felt very sick.
“You pre-paid,” she stated, more to reassure herself that she could just leave than to make them aware that she knew they did not have to go get any money to pay her. “Have a nice night.”
“Wouldn’t be nice if you didn’t stick around,” the bald one holding the pizzas said.
“Yeah, why don’t you come inside? Have a bite with us?” the other one offered. “You look like a hard-working girl, why don’t you take a few minutes off with us?”
Y/N could feel her heart begin to beat faster, her hands begin to sweat. “No, I have to get back to work,” she said, giving them a smile before walking off.
“Wait, we didn’t give you a tip!”
“Come back, love!”
Y/N tuned them out as she walked down the stairs, keeping an eye over her shoulder and her ears on alert as she made her way back to the car. Isla was sat on her phone when Y/N sat back down in the driver’s seat, putting her seatbelt on a little too fast and gripping the steering wheel harder than she had previously. She just wanted to get away from those men, she just wanted that shift to be over.
“You okay?” Isla asked. The first question she ever asked Y/N. First time she ever took initiative to start a conversation. Y/N really appreciated it in that moment.
“Yeah,” Y/N said, sighing heavily. “Just hate men.”
Isla must have understood what Y/N was talking about because she nodded, looking straight ahead at the road in front of them. “I’m sorry you met the worst type of customers on your first night.”
“Had to meet them at one point, though,” Y/N said.
“You shouldn’t have to meet them at all.”
Y/N felt that statement reverberate through the car, lay in the air between them for quite some time after it was said. She could not stop thinking about it as she drove to the next destination, feeling disgusted and angry. Had she stayed there a second longer, she would have had to resist the urge to knee them both in the space between their legs. This was just one of the stupid encounters that night, though the rest were more so on the scale of weird than disgusting. Like a man that was clearly high thanking Y/N for his frozen milk when he had ordered three Ben and Jerry’s, or a woman with her hair a mess, make-up completely destroyed, and just her dress robes on, snatching the pizza out of Y/N’s hand before hurrying back inside. It was a strange few hours, and as she drove the car back to Domino’s Homefield Street, Y/N felt absolutely drained of energy.
Walking home after her shift at 3:30am was next to torture, she just wanted to be in bed, cosy underneath the covers, and forget about the fact that she was working tomorrow night as well. Though the Hoxton Street was washed in the yellow lights from the streetlamps and the occasional car driving by, it was anything but empty. Drunk people were walking home from pubs, while others, like her, walked home from another nightshift, and some were just out for a night stroll. She walked without listening to music, not feeling comfortable with not being completely aware of her surroundings when it was dark out. Besides, she was so tired as well, listening to music would probably put her to sleep.
Orsman Road was completely deserted, only a few people walking home from The Stag’s Head passed her smelling of beer and cigarettes. This street was darker, smaller, and less busy than Hoxton Street, so Y/N opted to walk in the middle of the road instead of in the shadows. She felt less vulnerable that way. As she reached the flat building, she got her keys out of her purse and went to unlock the door.
“Fancy seeing you here.”
She jumped, keys falling onto the asphalt. Looking over her shoulder, she saw Harry standing there with the smuggest, most infuriating look on his face. God, how she wanted to slap him until his teeth fell out. While she contemplated how to physically hurt him, Harry bent down, picked up Y/N’s keys, and put them back in her hand.
“Don’t lose those,” he said. “50 quid to get a new pair.”
Y/N only narrowed her eyes, unlocking the door for them both and striding on to the next floor. After opening the door to the flat, she got her shoes off, and walked straight for the kitchen. She needed strawberries, especially after the shift she just had. The door closed behind Harry and she heard him lock it before taking his shoes and jacket off, too. As she turned around after closing the fridge door, Harry stood by the kettle, filling it up with water.
“Didn’t know you worked at Domino’s,” he said, looking over at her briefly, nodding at her black Domino’s fleece jacket before turning his attention back to the kettle.
“Just started.”
“How’re you finding it?” he asked.
Y/N sighed, leaning her hip against the counter. “Considering this was my first shift and I have to show up again to work another nightshift tomorrow…” She pursed her lips as if deep in thought. “I’d say shite.”
Harry laughed, stopping the tap. “Tea?”
“No, I bought myself some banana and oat milk from M&S earlier, I’ll just have that. Thank you, though.” She gestured at what she had placed on the counter while he was busy with the kettle.
Harry watched her as she got herself a glass for the milk. “Can’t for the life of me remember you being a Tory.”
Y/N laughed. “Oh, you don’t remember me hating the poor?” she said, putting on a posh accent, Harry could not hold back his own laughter. “Quite a big part of my personality, don’t know how you missed it. Now-“ She put the milk back in the fridge. “-If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go spend five weeks at my £1.000.000 18 century holiday house in Surrey.”
Harry’s laughter echoed through the kitchen as he put the kettle on, shaking his head at her. “No, but how’d you like your first shift? Anything like Pizza Express?”
Why the fuck did he remember that? Why did he have to remember everything? Bloody hell…
“Not for me. There were just a lot of creepy men, and some very dodgy neighbourhoods. I’m sure that’s not all there is to the job as a delivery driver, I’m sure I was just unlucky my first time, but I can’t really afford to quit unless I have a backup.”
Harry frowned at that. “If you don’t like it and you feel unsafe, you don’t have to continue doing it.”
She nodded her head. “No, I know, but it’s still the only job I could find and that I could get at the moment. I’ll apply to others later.”
Harry’s frown deepened, crossing his arms over his black, tee-shirt covered chest. No tattoos on display. She wondered why he only had tattoos on his chest and torso.
“Yeah, alright…” he said, voice a little darker than before. “But if you feel unsafe-“
“-Harry, I practiced capoeira when I was younger, remember?”
At that, as if he was slowly unveiling a memory he had not thought about in a little too long, Harry smiled. A small, fond smile that Y/N remembered from a previous life; a life with far less troubles, far less complications than this one.
“Of course I do.”
Not “yes”. Not just “I do”. “Of course”. He had said “of course”, as if remembering was a privilege. As if not remembering would be the strangest thing in the world. Y/N hated that this man did not forget a single thing. Never had, never would.
“Well,” she said, trying to act normal after that. “Well, I can hold my own.”
“Good to know,” Harry smiled, getting a teabag from his cupboard. As he turned his body and face away from her, she saw something glisten in the lights of the kitchen. Two earrings. Two gold earrings right next to one another. In his ear. Y/N would never admit to it out loud, the sight made her mouth salivate. “But I still think you should quit if you don’t like your work.”
Y/N opened the strawberry container and took one out, taking a bite. She needed to look away from Harry, away from his two earrings, and away from him because he was making some points. She knew where Harry was coming from, she really did, but she could not go on living in London, using money every single day, and not have an income. Until something better came along, this would be her job. “How’s the pub?”
“Alright,” Harry said, pouring hot water into his mug. “I’m having my last shift there December 15th.”
Y/N blinked. “You’re quitting?”
“Yeah, I’m starting a new job in January.”
She raised her eyebrows, meeting his gaze again. “Okay, good for you. What one?”
“Tattoo artist.”
He had to be fucking kidding at this point. Y/N had to do everything to keep her eye from twitching.
“Just got my tattoo license, so I’m ready to go come January.”
Y/N did not want to admit it. She could not admit it. She physically could not. But… everything about Harry… everything he did, everything he said… It all hit different. And it did not help that Y/N, who loved tattoos, getting them, having them on her body, and seeing them on someone else’s, was now made aware that Harry could legally give people tattoos. He was going to become a tattoo artist in January. Y/N wanted to eat chalk.
Harry just looked at her, studying her face. “You okay?”
She swallowed the strawberry bite she had just taken. “Fantastic.”
Harry raised his eyebrows. “Really?”
“Did you draw your own tattoos then?”
For the second time that night, Y/N was witness to Harry’s smug smile. He raised his cuppa, cocking his head a little to the side as he said, “You’ve seen my tattoos?”
Y/N wanted to die.
“You’ve been sneaking into my room to watch me sleep, that it?” Harry asked. “You’ve probably seen the tattoo I have by my crotch then, too-“
“-Oi!” Y/N narrowed her eyes at him. “Piss off. I saw them when you were wearing that low-neck top at Footprint.”
Harry took a sip of his tea. “If you say so.”
Y/N rolled her eyes and Harry laughed.
“It’s jokes, Y/N.”
“Good. I’m genuinely scared you think I fancy you.”
Harry smiled. “You mean you don’t? Really?”
She took a hold of her strawberries and milk. “Goodnight, wanker.”
“I’m a dreamboat, what about this-“ Harry gestured at himself, flexing his arm muscles that weren’t really there. “-Doesn’t give you the fanny flutters?”
“You’re disgusting.”
Harry laughed.
“I was just interested to know about your job as a tattoo artist ‘cause I love tattoos,” Y/N explained.
Harry’s eyes travelled down to Y/N’s hand where the ‘M’ was tattooed, it lingered there for a moment too long. For some unknown reason, a tingle started up in Y/N’s thumb, making its way up her arm and to her breasts, then her stomach. Slowly, he lifted his eyes to her ribs where he must have seen her ‘saudade’ tattoo. Though it was not visible right then, it seemed as if Harry was seeing it all the same, sensing it somehow. At last, his eyes met hers, and Y/N felt something in her throat stop working. The tingle that had laid in her stomach just seconds earlier exploded, slithering all throughout her body and making her hyper aware of how knowledgeable Harry was of the tattoos on her body; of her. He must have paid more attention to her than she thought he had. Something about that made it hard to breathe. Bloody hell, she hated how fucking fit he was. She hated how she reacted to his glance, to his attention.
“I can tell,” he said, voice a tinge darker than before.
She was surely about to explode. Blinking a few times, she held her strawberries up, nodding her head to Harry in a silent goodbye, then made her way towards the door.
“Oh, Y/N,” Harry said, making her look over her shoulder at him. “Do you want some Ginger Nuts? I’m having some with my tea-“
“-No thanks. Goodnight.” Y/N walked straight out of the door and to her room, needing to stick her head out her window to cool down in the Regent’s Canal breeze before sitting down in her bed again. How could he be considerate, respectful, smart, pretty, and sexy at the same time? Some otherworldly powers had truly been at work these last few years to make Harry Styles into everything Y/N was attracted to.
She did not even want him as a boyfriend, she never had, there had never been any romantic feelings between them before and there never would be, but he was just so… so… frustrating. In every single sense of the word. He was just… very attractive. Very pleasing to look at. Everything that got to Y/N. And Y/N wanted to scream at Harry for making it so hard to ignore him, and at herself for falling for it.
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Wednesday, 29 November 2017
Y/N was originally going to travel home to Nottingham that Friday so she could stay home that weekend. She had not been home since September, and though they only had two weeks of uni left before Christmas break, she wanted to go home this weekend. She missed her parents terribly and wanted to see them so badly, she could simply not wait until Christmas. So, because it was the last Wednesday of the month, Y/N travelled back up to Nottingham.
Every last Wednesday of every month, Davi would invite all of his Brazilian family who had settled in Nottingham after he had, as well as Lottie’s parents, over for feijoada. Brazil has many region-specific dishes, yet the one that best translates into a nationwide dish is the beloved feijoada. The name stems from the word feijão, which is Portuguese for bean, and also the key ingredient of feijoada, which is essentially a bean stew mixed with beef and pork. Though, depending on what region of Brazil you are in, you will find different ingredients added to the feijoada.
In Rio de Janeiro and Minas Gerais, feijoada is almost always cooked with black beans, while in Bahia, red or brown beans are preferred. In Bahia and Sergipe, they also usually add extra vegetables to the feijoada such as plantain, kale, potatoes, carrots, cabbage, and pumpkin. However, in the rest of Brazil, feijoada is simply beans and meat with no additional vegetables. It is served with white rice, shredded kale with bits of fried bacon, crispy pork crackling, and slices of oranges that are meant to aid the digestion of the heavy meal. Which is what Y/N had grown up eating.
Typically, it is served at noon on Wednesdays and Saturdays, as this hearty meal is a thick mixture that will have you full in no time. The only activity Y/N would recommend after it, is bed and a good book. Maybe even a little nap. Their big family often used to eat it during the weekend as it meant more time spent with the family, more time spent chatting and being social, but Davi who worked in a bakery, had often worked Saturday and Sunday afternoons, meaning that it would fit best for the family to keep the tradition of hosting the meal on Wednesdays at Davi and Lottie’s house. Which was why Y/N was on her way home that Wednesday at the end of November.
Closing Vidas Secas by Graciliano Ramos that she had just been reading, Y/N got up from her seat to get off the train. Graciliano Ramos was Y/N’s favourite writer of all time. Though she loved English Literature and especially loved studying it, she always found his works to be better than most. He was the only modernist writer she could stand. São Bernardo was her favourite of his novels. A story about a man who, having been born poor, gets rich using any ruthless means he can and ends up utterly alone. It had stuck with Y/N her entire life. The main character’s ability to love others, his selfishness, and arrogance, make up one of the most complex characters of world literature, in Y/N’s opinion.
In the last chapter of São Bernardo when Paulo Honório reflects on his life alone at night, Y/N found some of the best few pages she had ever read. The closing words ‘I ruined my life stupidly’ express the agony of a man whom Y/N learned to despise throughout the book, but who, thanks to the mastery of the author, leads us with him through his tragic life choices towards self-destruction. Y/N got goosebumps just thinking about it.
Stepping off the train with her small bag and book under her arm, Y/N walked straight for the train station exit. She recognised her mother’s brown hair in a bun at the top of her head, a pair of colourful flare trousers on along with a white buffer jacket. Lottie jumped up and down at the sight of Y/N and ran for her daughter, throwing her arms around her in a tight embrace.
“My baby,” she said, kissing Y/N’s cheeks and forehead. “Oh, my Y/N.”
Y/N hugged her mother back, burying her face in her mother’s neck. She did not care that she could hear Vidas Secas fall into the tiled floor or that her bag would get dirty where it lay, all she cared about was her mother’s embrace and the smell of home around her. She was fluent in two languages, yet Y/N could not find a word that could quite capture how happy she was to be home just now.
“Okay, my dove,” Lotte said, taking Y/N’s bag off the floor. Y/N bent down and picked up her book, bringing it to her chest. “Let’s go home.”
The two of them walked out to the car park, and Lottie quickly started driving them in the direction of Y/N’s childhood home. The familiar ride and the familiar city outside the car windows made her relax, sinking far into the seat until she felt enveloped in safeness and contentment. It didn’t take them long to reach the semi-detached brick house, all their family members’ cars parked out front and visible in the windows overlooking the street. Y/N took her own bag this time, and her mother led the way up the stairs to the house so she could open the door for her.
There was no time for Y/N to go upstairs with her bag and book, because she was bombarded with hugs and kisses the second she stepped inside. Her grandfather, avô, her grandmother, avó, her papai’s two sisters and her aunties, tia Gilma and tia Lara, their husbands and her uncles, tio Jaren and uncle Finnley – who was British and had met Lara after she moved here -, and her seven cousins, or primos. They all came rushing to her, with her British grandmother and grandfather grinning and waiting for her to be done hugging and kissing everyone. Being with them and smelling feijoada everywhere, made Y/N almost tear up. Blimey, ever since moving away to University, she had become so incredibly sappy.
“Amorinzho!” came like a scream from the kitchen. Davi came out into the foyer with his apron still on and the biggest grin on his face. He threw his arms around Y/N. “Eu tenho saudade de você.”
She had missed him, too. So much. She felt safer, more at ease, almost more herself now that she was reunited with her parents close.
So, she told him that as she whispered, “Eu também senti sua falta,” back. Her papai hugged her a little tighter at that, grinning at her with tears in his eyes as he squeezed her shoulders.
“Y/N!” avó shouted from where she now sat in the living room, her grey hair in a long braid down her back and a big knitted cardigan wrapped tightly around her small frame. “Venha comer!”
“I’ll come eat in a second,” Y/N said. “I just need to put my bag in my room.”
“I’ll do that for you, my sausage,” Y/N’s grandfather said, stroking her cheek before he bent down and brought the bag with him up the stairs to her room. Since her mother had been an only child, her parents, Y/N’s grandparents, had always been very caring and constantly present as Y/N and Marcela had been their only grandchildren. Not that her avós had not been present, because they really had, her entire family had, but her grandparents’ life had no meaning if it were not for Lottie, Y/N and Marcela.
Y/N walked past all her family and to the kitchen where her papai stood making her a plate of feijoada. He handed it to her and she smiled at him before helping herself to some rice. Just then, Lottie walked into the kitchen as well, hugging Y/N from behind before she walked over to make her daughter something to drink. Silence stretched out in the kitchen as conversation started back up again in the living room, everyone talking about everything and nothing, in English and Portuguese. But, something that was unusual for her parents, they did not say a single thing. Though this might not be unusual for some, it was extremely unusual for someone who came from a generally very talkative family.
“Charlotte,” Davi said, looking over at Lottie. “We should…”
“Not yet.”
Y/N looked over her shoulder at her parents. “What?”
“We should tell her.”
“She just got home, Davi,” Lottie reasoned. “We can tell her later. Let her enjoy her feijoada.”
“No, what’s going on?” Y/N asked again, turning her body to face them now.
“No, amorinzha,” Davi said, squeezing Y/N’s shoulder. “Your mother is right; we can talk about it later. It’s not appropriate to do it now.”
“What’s going on? What’re you talking about?” Y/N looked at her papai, then at her mum, both of them sharing a look with one another that Y/N did not understand. Over the years, she had become a master at deciphering what her parents were discussing when they shared looks, though she never managed to quite understand the proper subject of discussion, she could detect the mood. She understood this was more of a serious matter.
“Tell me,” Y/N said, feeling her heart begin to beat a little harder, a little faster, the more time went by without any of them saying anything.
“Fine,” Lottie sighed. “Put your plate down first.”
Y/N did so reluctantly, not taking her eyes off of her parents. If it was serious enough for her mother to want her to put her food down so she would not drop her plate, then Y/N was on the fence if she even wanted to know what was going on or if she wanted to live in blissful ignorance of it.
“Your pai and I have decided to sell the cabin.”
Y/N’s heart stopped beating. Her body felt numb, the chatter in the living room deceased to exist as she just looked at her mother, and then at her papai. Her mum, and then pai. Suddenly, as if slapped with a brick, Y/N’s brain roared to life and her body came as hot as coal. She looked at her mother who had been the one to speak, her mouth falling open and shutting again as she continued to process what she had just been told.
“You’re… you’re going to sell the cabin?” Y/N asked them, just to be completely sure that what she heard was correct.
“Yes,” Davi answered.
“You’re selling the cabin?” She could not believe it.
“Y/N-“
“-You’re selling our Newport cabin? The one in Wales?” she asked again, her voice rising now. They did not have any other cabins, but Y/N just had to know she was not mistaken. They couldn’t… They couldn’t just…
“Y/N, we never go there anymore,” Lottie reasoned. “We want to spend the money we use on the cabin on something else, we don’t know what yet.”
“So, you’re just going to sell the cabin where your daughter was murdered?” Y/N asked, voice filled with so much rage she barely recognised herself when she spoke. “Where Marcela was most likely stabbed? You’re selling that cabin?”
“We’re never there because she was… she was killed…” Davi cleared his throat. “Spending time inside that cabin when we know what happened inside it, does not feel right.”
“No, selling it isn’t right,” Y/N said. “What if there’s more evidence inside? What if there’s somewhere they haven’t looked?”
“Baby, they have cleaned out the cabin and there’s nowhere they haven’t looked. There’s nothing more they can investigate,” Lottie explained. “We don’t want to own that cabin anymore.”
“Kit murdered Marcela in there,” Y/N said. “Her murderous ex-boyfriend is running around somewhere because no one investigated that cabin thoroughly enough.”
“Selling it doesn’t mean they are going to stop investigating Marcela’s case, amorzinho,” Davi pointed out.
“We don’t… We still don’t know if Kit did it,” Lottie mumbled. “It was most likely him, but there could have been someone else who killed Marcela, Y/N.”
“Marcela’s body hasn’t been found, there’s no trace of Kit’s blood or remains on that property. That murderer is on the loose, something inside that cabin can tell us he killed her, I am sure of it.”
“Y/N, Kit hasn’t been seen since the murder either. Maybe he was killed, too,” Lottie said.
“Mum, Kit was a rubbish person, why are you sticking up for him?” Y/N groaned, running her hands over her face.
“We decided, Y/N,” Davi mumbled, rubbing his daughter’s back. “It’s happening.”
That was all Y/N needed to hear. She took her plate in one hand and the glass with water her mother had made her in another, and she walked straight past everyone in the living room and up to her room. She felt like a child stomping past everyone like that, but she just needed to be with her thoughts. There was absolutely no way they were selling that cabin. Not that cabin. Y/N was sure there was evidence in there somewhere, the police and the investigators had just not looked thoroughly enough. That was all. And if they had done a shite job, well… that just meant Y/N had to do it for them. She had to go to that cabin and look for herself once and for all. After all, who else would? It did not seem like anyone cared anymore.
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NEXT UPDATE: Sunday, 21th March, 9PM GMT!
Huge thanks to my AMAZING beta readers! 🏛️ @aileenacoustic 🏛️ @devil-in-bw-the-sheets​ 🏛️ @sunflowerstache​ 🏛️ @fromyourstrulyh​​ 🏛️
FIC PAGE | COME TALK !!!
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Teruteru and 'Byakuya' Trying to Impress Reader
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Request by @citronsblog fic under cut!
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Teruteru
He wasn’t skilled in getting people to like him back. He felt his flirtations may someday get someone to notice him, yet it wears on his friends around him. Especially you.
You were a newer student entering Hope’s Peak, and you had caught his eye automatically. Your personality was interesting to him, your looks drawing him in. He had gone with the flirting route at first, you first giggling and playing them off as jokes, but he noticed your discomfort in the more lewd comments. That stopped quickly. This was the first time he had gotten anywhere close to a person of interest, and he had no intentions on ever losing you. That being said, he had prepared something extra special- A nice dinner, and a confession. He left a note in your locker, asking to meet him that day.
Hours were spent at the school’s kitchen, him rushing between stoves, setting timers, flipping the cooking food, all as he counted down the minutes getting him closer to you being there. He had ran through his speech in his head innumerable times, murmuring it under his breath and correcting weak parts. His heart pounded. Would you like all of this? Or turn away, like his previous interests had?
No, he decided, you wouldn’t. They were nowhere near as important as you; You glowed like the stars when you smiled, and shone like the sun when you spoke. You would like it. You would like him.
You entered the cafeteria at the time that the note requested. It was easy to spot Teruteru’s handwriting, blocky but neat. You chose the nearest table and sat your stuff down, and headed for the noise in the kitchen.
Inside, Teruteru was decorating the finished plates with skill, each more beautiful than the last. He was concentrated on getting each right, so deep in work that he hadn’t noticed you walked in. He laid the chocolate piping bag down, smiling at his dessert, when he finally noticed you. He jumped a little, and you couldn’t help but laugh, making you both break out in smiles.
“Cher! These dishes? All for you, my dear.” Your eyes widened.
“All?” There were tons, each filled to the brim with food, the smells making your mouth water. There was no way that you could finish all of this! There had to be enough to feed a small colony.
“How about this,” Teruteru grabbed two dishes, “you go get comfortable, and I’ll serve you each dish.” You nodded, and headed back out for the cafeteria.
Teruteru came out with a dish, setting it down on the table in front of you. He pulled up a chair next to you, and sat eagerly awaiting your first bite. Everything looked so perfect, you didn’t know where to start without messing up the arrangement. Teruteru noticed your hesitation and held your chopsticks for you.
“Let me, cher.” He took a piece of the meal between the chopsticks, and held it up to your lips. You accepted, tasting the tasty meal. Every bite was like this, Teruteru dutifully holding up the chopsticks every time you finished your bite. Eventually, the plate was bare, and he headed back for the dessert.
You couldn’t help but feel your cheeks warm, thinking about him doing all this for you. He must’ve spent so much time, just for you. Your thoughts were cut short by the slice of cake in front of you.
You hadn’t seen the cake in the kitchen, you would’ve surely noted the hearts and cursive writing decorating the top. ‘I love you, dearest’ was written with the frosting, your heart beating faster by the second. Teruteru stood up, cleared his throat, and began:
“You’ve been my best friend from day one. You’ve… also been my love from day one. I love every moment I spend with you, every silly joke, every walk home from school… You’re my everything.”
With happy tears, you hugged him around the waist. His arms curled around your figure, tracing hearts into your back.
“Thank you for being by my side, love…”
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'Byakuya'
It started with small things. New cologne, new glasses, new suits, and rings adorning their hands. You didn’t notice. They were a little upset over it, until they realized that if they wanted your attention, it would have to be a little more noticeable. With how shy they really are, it was little gifts at first. Flowers left at your door on mondays. Letters of admiration on tuesdays. Your admirer would send you dessert during lunchtimes, one of Hope’s Peak’s chefs hand delivering it to your table, making your friends look at you in envy. Now that they’ve got your attention, Byakuya must now reveal himself as your admirer.
They waited by your dorm’s door after the last bell. It was hard to stay there, his nerves almost getting the best of him multiple times. Yet, he stayed determined. He messed with the small box in his hands, fingers tracing the goldleaf of the outer design. It was signed with Togami’s signature- one that he had spent too many hours to count trying to perfect.
They grew antsy as they watched your figure walk down the hall towards them. They watched you smile as you separated from your friends, waving and laughing as they each disbanded, heading towards their own dorms. Their heart beat faster and harder, drumming in their ears as they started to panic.
When you got to your dorm, you were excited to see a present propped on the door. And more surprised to see the Togami logo on the box.
You wore the necklace every day, no matter what outfit. You knew it had to be Togami, but what was taking them so long to talk to you? Sometimes, you’d catch the color of their jacket in the corner of your eye, them trying to flee the scene after leaving a gift. Finally, after realizing that they may not talk to you first, you decided to approach them.
You saw the anxiety flash in their eyes as you chose the seat in front of them at the lunch table. You sat down your tray, smiled at them, and went to retrieve drinks. Two waters in hand, you returned to the seat. Thankfully, they were still here. You handed them the water, they let out a small ‘thanks.’
“Are you the one leaving the gifts?” They tense up again, and you sense that they want to hide again, but they nod anyway.
“They’re all from me.” Their voice is meeker than normal, the usual Togami Tone wavering and less than confident. You can’t help but find it adorable as a cherry color spreads across his cheeks.
“Are you free this weekend?” You offer your hand across the table. They take it, shakily lifting it up and kissing the top of your hand.
“I’ll see you then.”
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Part 2 Here!
Commission info for a Love Letter from you favorite character here!
- You’re probably someone on his morning routine, or who could easily become apart of his daily routine
- Maybe a friendly barista at a café he’s curious about on the way to the his store
- But I like to think you’re someone that works at the local flower shop
- He catches you on his way to work one morning, choosing to walk that day to stretch his legs
- Apparating is convenient, but if he’s not careful he’ll get out of shape pretty fast.
- He see’s you across the street, watering the plants you keep outside the shop, talking to each of them, a smile across your face as you do
- The morning light hits you just right, the golden glow spreading across your face
- “Well aren’t they quite cute?”
- He starts walking to work everyday from then on
- It’s on the fourth or fifth day you notice him-
- Well really you notice his hair, it’s such a rich red
- A livelier shade than any rose or hibiscus you could grow
- “I bet it’s hair dye.” Your co-worker tells you “you know how these city boys are-“
- Well your store is in the heart of the city, on the Jump Street, sandwiched between a book store and a boutique
- And yeah, most of the guys around here do seem impeccably dressed,
- one of your very handsome regular's who comes in to get flowers for his husband every Tuesday even admitted he has a running bi-monthly appointment at the spa, he gets a spray tan, dye job, eyebrows tweezed, the works.
- “It’s just what I have to do to compete, there’s so many young CEO’s now, you’ve got to keep up appearances.” 
- And you’re sure he’s not the only one
- Still.. you can’t help but believe that a shade of red that vibrant- that beautiful- can’t be from just hair dye
- “Maybe” you mumble, turning your attention to the peony’s
- You wonder if you’ll see him walk by at the end of the day when all the offices close
- But even though you keep your eyes glued to the store front window, he never shows up
- You see him again the next morning, walking across the street
- This time you take a little more of him in
- He’s pretty tall, though you can’t make out much of his build when he’s wearing that rust colored coat
- And a splatter of freckles across his face, almost like constellations
- He’s got a long nose, but it works with his face
- He’s pretty handsome
- What comes next shouldn’t surprise you, but it does
- Perhaps he felt your eyes on him, silently assessing him- studying him
- Because his eyes lift up to meet yours
- They’re the deepest brown you’ve ever seen, especially when the morning light hits them just so
- Oh sh*t, he caught you staring
- Sh*t. Sh*t. Sh*t. Sh*t. Sh*t. Sh*t.
- Okay, it’s fine
- Just okay- Just play it cool
- So, you pretend like you weren’t just staring at this handsome stranger admiring his features
- And shamelessly offer your best smile and a wave
- To your surprise he grins, smile spreading across his face
- A light pink dusting his face as he waves back
- And so you become waving friends
- Waving to each other every morning
- Which slowly evolves into trading morning greetings
- “How’s your morning going?” He asks from across the street
- Miffed commuters give him disgruntled looks as they walk around him rushing to work, but he stays rooted to the spot
- “It’s alright can’t complain!” You shout back from your spot by the gardenia bush, earning several looks as well
- “How about you?”
- He gives a teasing look to all the angry passerby’s and gives a “so-so” hand motion
- You almost laugh so hard you cry
- This goes on for a few more days, and your co-workers take notice
- “Flirting with the red head (Y/N)? On company time?” Your co-worker mock gasps and you roll your eyes
- “Oh hush, I’m just being friendly to a neighbor.”
- Your co-worker doesn’t look like they’re buying it, but they don’t say anything else
- It’s late in the afternoon when the shop bell rings
- You’re up to your elbows trimming and re-potting the hydrangeas
- You figure one of the others will get
- You hear some footsteps but ignore it, 
- This part is tricky, if you damage any of the roots the plant might not be able to make it
- “Um excuse me, I was wondering if you might help me with something?”
- Ugh, don’t they see you’re in the middle of something
- You’re about to turn around and tell them that customers aren’t supposed to be in back room-
- When you catch a glimmer of vivid red in the corner of your eye
- No that can’t be right, he doesn’t even walk back this way in the afternoon
- Your heart stutters in your chest, face growing hot
- Your crush is getting out of control-
- When you look up, there he is
- His adorable freckles face in all its glory
- Here in the homely, rather dirty, back-plant room at your flower store
- A hesitant smile curled on to his lips
- “I’m sorry, it looks like I’m interrupting, the clerk in the front said you would be back here-“
- Of course they did
- So well what’s he here for?
- Is he here to ask you in a date??
- You might just combust from joy at the thought
- Or maybe he’s here to order a large bouquet for his lover, and the rest of your co-workers think it’s time you get yourself out of this little crush of yours
- The thought fills you with both embarrassment and despair
- Only extreme highs and lows with you, it seems
- “- I’m a business owner a few streets over, and I thought some flowers might add some atmosphere, they said you’re the expert”
- He gives you a boyish grin, his hands shoved into his pockets
- So somewhere in the middle then
- Aright you can work with that
- “Do you have an idea of what kind of flowers you might want?” You’re already moving towards the sink, washing the fertilizer off your arms.
- George blanks, he hasn’t really thought that far
- “Not particularly, do you have any recommendations?”
- You nod, lips pursed as you grab the order form
- “Well what kind of store do you have? Peonys’ and orchids’ are always good with boutiques”
- You figure he owns an upscale boutique or maybe a restaurant, those tend to be the places that do the best in this area.
- And by the looks of his taupe coat, his store is doing very well
- “Hmm well-“ his hand rubs his chin
- Technically it’s a joke shop, but it’s grown to be more than that isn’t it?
- He sells potions, charms, stationary, prank goods (of course), muggle novelty’s- it makes sense to him- but his store has grown to be quite eclectic over the years
- Besides he doubts he can explain it you
- He’s still on the fence whether you’re a muggle or from magic like him
- You’re plants have him suspicious, no way a muggle could grow a gardenia that would put Neville Longbottom to shame-
- Still, if you were a witch there’s no way you wouldn’t have recognized him by now
- The Weasleys have all become some sort of warrior clan war hero, he’s even on a chocolate frog card now.
- Well, he would rather not risk it
- He’s always been the cautious one
- “It’s sort of a hobby store? Well it started out as one, but now we’ve been expanding and we sell a bit of everything.”
- “So kind of like a department store?”
- Department stores are a bit more tricky, each room has a different vibe, but the overall tone has to be neutral
- Hmmmm
- “Maybe some white roses? Orchids might be nice too, and if you’ve got a bit of a green thumb I might recommend succulents or some devils ivy?”
- This is all going straight over George’s head, he never did pay much attention in herbology
- But you’re talking to him as if he’s an equal and he doesn’t want the cutie who works at the local flower shop think any less of him because he doesn’t know a d*mn about plants
- “Those sound lovely”
- He’s not entirely sure how it happens, but by the time he’s left he’s got an armful of plants, and a rolling order at your store to pick up plants every Tuesday
- “Are you sure you’re alright? We deliver for free you know?”
- “No no it’s fine-“
- The tall leafy plant shakes every time he shakes his head
- “Besides I wouldn’t want to miss the chance to see you again” he winks before turning to leave
- You feel your heart skip a beat
- “Did you ask if it was a dye job?” You co-worker yells from the other side of the store as soon as he’s gone
- “Of course I didn’t Ainsley! For one that’s awfully rude”
- They nod knowingly
- “Yeah that’s really fifth date talk”
- They laugh when you throw one of the cards at them
- And like clockwork George comes in every Monday afternoon, and leaves with a handful of arrangements and plants
- You still talk to each other on the street
- “How are the hydrangeas working out for you?” You ask and he gives a ‘ditto’ hand gesture
- “They’re class! I was wondering if I could get a few more?”
- You nod
- “We’ll have more ready for you on Monday, are you sure you don’t want delivery?”
- He manages to carry them off every time, but it sure makes you nervous, just one tumble and they would be ruined
- “We’ve been over this, how would I get to see you then?”
- He gives you a lopsided grin and you find yourself reflecting the expression
- “Oi! Would you two stop flirting in the middle of the street, you’re blocking traffic!” Someone shouts
- He just laughs and offers you a wave
- “What’s with all the plants?”
- They’re the first words out of Ron’s mouth when he steps inside the shop, he’s already shrugging off his coat making his way to where George is fiddling with a new contraption
- “I thought they would make the place livelier”
- False.
- He just wanted an excuse to talk to you.
- He does like the plants though. The white hydrangeas you recommended for the potions section are absolutely lovely
- Though he did use a few charms to make them larger, and stay fresher longer.
- He’s basically got a wall covered in hydrangeas now
- Still lovely though
- “It does look nice” Rob admits
- “So where are the products you need help fixing?”
- George groans waving towards a few oddly stacked boxes
- The packaging on his restock of the portable swamps came in the wrong color, not a big deal he can always change it with a spell
- But it is tedious work, especially when you have to do it one by one, otherwise it might upset the contents.
- And he does not want a swamp in his store
- Ron only nods, unpacking the box
- “You want purple right?”
- There’s a moment of silence between the two
- Purple was Fred’s favorite color
- He used to joke it was because that’s the color Snape turned when he was mad
- But George knows it’s because purple’s the color of the first fireworks they saw.
- He, Fred, Ron and Ginny had snuck away when they were younger to a muggle festival in the village, awestruck by the shapes the fireworks took.
- Fred would have carved that moment into his bones if he could.
- George clears his throat
- “Yeah, purple, same shade as the shop sign”
- Ron nods, pulling out a products wordlessly, motioning with his wand
- “So what’s really the deal with all these plant?” Ron asks, and George sighs
- “Nothing I just thought it might be good for business”
- “Did you get swindled by an attractive salesman?”
- “I wouldn’t say swindled” you gave him a pretty generous discount, and you were even offering free delivery
- That’s kind of a lot to give for a muggle shop
- “So they were attractive then?” Ron says with a grin, he’s only ribbing
- But George’s inquisitive look and the pink flush across his freckles nose makes Ron think he’s on the nose
- “(Y/N)’s fairly attractive”
- Fairly is putting it mildly though, George thinks your adorable
- Ron stutters halfway through the transfiguration spell
- “(Y/N)? Like hot (Y/N)? From the flower shop?”
- George is puzzled but nods
- “You went to hot (Y/N)‘s shop?!?!? WITHOUT ME?” Ron looks like he’s about to cry
- “How would Hermione feel is she heard you talking about another person like that?”
- Ron just gives him an incredulous look
- “She would say ‘I can’t believe George went to hot (Y/N)‘s shop and didn’t invite us’!”
- Apparently you’re quite popular in the shopping district. Your flowers have won the city award twice, before you opened your shop you won a contract as the city’s horticulturist.
- “Last Valentine’s Day Harry and I stood in line for two hours to pick up our bouquets” Ron tells him, he’s already done with the first box
- He figured business was good, it’s almost impossible to run a flower shop in the middle of the city if it isn’t.
- But he didn’t imagine you were award winning or anything
- He sighs so you are a muggle, and you’ve got no need for magic, you make up the difference in talent and skill
- He likes that, maybe he should get some shirts or art prints that say something like that
- He feels a small smile creep onto his face
- Oh well, probably for the best, he’s not sure he has time to date what with how busy things have been
- “Free for dinner? We can go wherever you want, my treat.” George says, slipping on his coat as they finish with the last of the products.
- “How about (Y/N)‘s flower shop?”
- George laughs
- “I’m pretty sure they close at 5....also they don’t have food Ron”
- Ron sighs like he’s just been told Christmas is just cancelled
- “The leaky cauldron is fine too I guess”
- But George can’t stop thinking about you for the rest of the weekend.
- It’s not really that big of a deal if you’re a muggle, but-
- Well how would that even work?
- The closest thing to a muggle he’s personally known is Hermione- who’s a witch and just muggle born
- He wouldn’t be able to tell you about being a wizard- not until you were married, or at least serious enough that he knew you both were going to get married. Which he doesn’t know how he feels about
- So he would have three full time jobs
- Taking care of the store, being your boyfriend, oh and hiding his magical powers from you
- Lovely
- But Merlin- wouldn’t his family love it if he brought you home?
- His Dad would be over the moon, and his Mum, well she’d be happy he found anyone at all. But she wouldn’t mind the pointers you gave her on how to get pinker roses.
- Percy wouldn’t really care either way. He might even like it, a muggle in the family might help his political agenda.
- Good for optics and all
- He already knows Ron likes you
- He and Hermione will be quite pleased they get to ogle you all they want at holiday dinners
- Ginny will like having another person in the family, she would personally give you a tour of the burrow
- Fleur will like having another in law in the family- and Bill will be happy that she’s happy
- Charlie would love it, asking you all about what kind of plants his dragons might like, and if you might plant a few for him, come visit in Romania- the port key’s always open for family-
- Actually he might have to watch out for Charlie, his older brother might legit steal you away from him
- .
- ...
- Fred would have loved you
- Fred would have never let it go on this long
- Fred would have seen George’s lovestruck expression the first time he saw you and said-
- “Well are you going to ask them out?”
- Fred always was the bold one, George was just following his lead most of the time.
- That fireworks thing in their last year was entirely Fred’s idea. 
- George would sputter and shrug in response
- ‘I was just lookin’, a man can look can’t he?’
- Fred would have given him one of his wicked grins and said:
- “Look if you don’t ask them out now, then I will”
- And pushed him across the street, holding him to it
- And then when he was halfway across the street towards you Fred would shout:
- “And see if they’ll give us a friends and family discount for the store!”
- George is grinning just imagining it
- Fred wouldn’t have cared at all that you were a muggle.
- All he would care about is that you would make his brother, his best friend, happy.
- “Honestly George, you get hung up over the dumbest things-“ Fred would have said
- “You like them don’t you? They make you feel good about the world and life?”
- And George would just dumbly nod
- “Then that’s all that matters doesn’t it? That you care about someone, and that you can see a future with them. All that other stuff- it’s just noise”
- Alright he’ll try then
- Not just for Fred, but for himself too.
- George strolls into your shop on Monday, an hour before you open-
- “Oh hello George! You’re a little early, I’ve got your hydrangeas trimmed I just need to get your potted plants ready and-“
- “Would you like to go out sometime?”
- “-then I’ll fix up the roses for y-“
- Huh?
- You freeze for a moment, almost dropping the plant in your hands
- Did he just ask you on a date?
- “If dinner is too much, maybe just tea- or coffee?”
- Maybe it’s not exciting enough for you
- Ugh! He knew he should have suggested something more fun like the zoo or maybe a botanical garden?
- But you’re around plants all day, he didn’t want to make you think he only knows one thing-
- “Friday?”
- His eyes shoot up to look at your face, he hadn’t even noticed he was staring at his shoes
- “What?”
- “Friday” you repeat, you’ve got a smile that seems lovelier than any of the flowers you grow.
- “Is Friday good for dinner? I close up at six”
- He grins so wide he’s afraid his face might break
- “Friday is perfect”
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detective-giggles · 3 years
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(Grand)mother Knows Best
So this fic is going to be a double prompt fill. I started this LAST YEAR for my entry for the Barisi Professions bingo! This is my “Sonny-as-a-nurse” AU.  Now for Flufftober, I have FINALLY finished it and I’m using it for Day 7: Meddling Friends (I mean, technically she’s family but...) Also, please note: No grandmothers were harmed in the making of this fic. Thanks to @moderateshouting for giving me this idea (forever ago). And, thank you to @sarahcakes613 for the beta!
WC:1,461
***
Sonny sighed as he poked at his food. A big pan of homemade lasagna always sounded great in theory, but by the third day, the novelty was gone and he was checking his watch to see if he still had time to run to the bodega on the corner. He had almost decided on Funyuns and a Mountain Dew-the dinner of champions-when someone tapped him on the arm. 
“May I join you?”
“Huh? Oh, of course, Mrs. Diaz.” He shifted and prepared to stand, “do you need help?”
“No,” she waived him off and took a seat at the picnic table across from him, “I’m not as helpless as my grandson thinks.”
Sonny smiled kindly, “I’m sure he doesn’t think that, Mrs. Diaz.”
“I would have been just fine in my apartment,” she insisted.
“And how many flights of stairs was that?” Sonny asked.
She huffed and rolled her eyes. “You sound just like him, you know?” Sonny chuckled as he rummaged through his lunch bag. Residents were always telling him he reminded them of their sons or grandsons. It was a compliment.  He hoped. “You seem like a nice boy. I bet you’d never stick your abuela in a place like this.”
Sonny shrugged and took a bite from an apple. “I couldn’t afford to stick my nonna in a place like this.”
“You’re always here on Fridays. Saturdays too.  A handsome young man like you... your wife doesn’t mind you leaving her home alone all weekend?”
“Mrs. Diaz-”
“Catalina. Please, call me Catalina.”
“Catalina, you know I’m not married,” Sonny sighed.
“Do you want to be?” 
Sonny opened his mouth and then closed it, clearing his throat. He sipped from his water bottle to stall and settled for a casual shrug. Personal questions weren’t entirely unusual, but they were usually followed up with an attempt at setting him up with someone’s granddaughter (or once, someone’s daughter), and Sonny wasn’t interested.  “Someday. If I find the right person.” 
“You’re not going to find her in here,” Catalina stage-whispered. “Unless you like older women?”
Sonny laughed, “you’re half right. But I won’t be finding her anywhere.” He glanced at his watch, missing the scheming grin on Catalina’s face.  He pulled a couple chocolate chip cookies from his bag. “My lunch break is almost over. You want to help me eat these?”
“No. Eat them both. You’re too skinny.”
Sonny laughed. “Now you sound like my nonna!”
Catalina stood slowly and put her hand on Sonny’s forearm. “Well, she’s right. Just keep in mind, us nonnas know what we’re doing.” She gave his arm a pat and Sonny watched as she slowly made her way back inside.
***
“Abuelita! Como esta?” Rafael wrapped Catalina in a hug and kissed her cheek. “Hola Mami.” He held up a small bunch of yellow and orange flowers and Catalina beamed.
“They’re beautiful, Rafi.” He pulled a vase from the cupboard and helped clip the ends of the stems while Catalina filled the vase with water.
“Rafael, come sit. I’m going to make coffee and I was just telling your mother abou-”
“No, I can’t stay long. I have meetings this afternoon.”
“You work too much, Rafi. You need to relax, have a little fun once in a while. Speaking of fun, you should meet-”
“I have fun!” Rafael insisted. “And I relax.”
“But Rafael, I have someone I need you to meet.”
Rafael chuckled, “I just had a few minutes, and I thought I’d stop by. I can meet your friends next time, okay?” Catalina shot Lucia a look, and Lucia shook her head, clearly not wanting to get involved in whatever her mother had planned.
“You’ll let me introduce you to Sonny then?”
“Si. I’ll come back later this weekend,” Rafael promised. “I’ll even bring you dinner. Just tell me when.”
Catalina exchanged another glance with Lucia. “Friday night, in the courtyard. Is eight-thirty late enough?”
Rafael sighed. “Yes. I’ll see you then.”
***
Knock knock
“Good morning, Mrs. Diaz.” Sonny popped his head into her room.
“Oh, Sonny! Come in, come in! You remember my daughter, Lucia, right?”
“I do. Good morning.  Mrs. Diaz, I can’t stay today, I’m not working in this wing. I just stopped by for my word of the day.”
“Oh right. Let’s see.  Abogado.”
“Abogado? What does that mean?”
“Lawyer.”
“Ah.” Sonny looked thoughtful. “I’m sensing a theme with the words this week.  Is your grandson a lawyer, by chance?”
“Si, y muy guapo.”
Lucia’s eyes widened as she realized what Catalina was up to.  “Mother! You leave him alone!” she hissed, turning towards Sonny. “I’m sorry, please don’t listen to her.”
Sonny chuckled. “It’s okay. And I will google that one. You ladies have a good afternoon.”
“Oh, Sonny. Are you working this Friday?”
“I always do.” Sonny called over his shoulder.
***
Sonny settled in at his usual picnic table. He scanned the courtyard before pulling out his phone. When he looked up a few minutes later, there was a slightly older man, in a very expensive suit, standing nearby. He had a plastic bag in his hands, take-out Sonny assumed, and he appeared to be looking for someone.
“Can I help you?” Sonny called out.
“Um, maybe? I’m supposed to be meeting my grandmother for dinner.”
“Dinner is in the dining room between four and six-thirty,” Sonny replied.
“Oh. She said she eats out here on Fridays. At eight-thirty?”
“No. Just me.”
“What?”
“I take my lunch break out here-alone-from eight-fifteen to nine. Every Tuesday through Saturday.”
The man rolled his eyes. “Great. Now she’s...confused?”
Sonny cocked his head to the side, “Wait. I know that eye-roll.” He looked around and then up, catching Catalina staring down at them from her window.  “We’ve been set up. She’s watching us.” He gestured for the other man to sit, and he did, joining Sonny at the wooden table.
“Set up?”
“Tricked. Hoodwinked. Bamboozled.”
He blinked as the realization set in. “Oh, Dios mio.”
“I’m guessing you’re Rafael. The, what was it? The abogado guapo I’ve been hearing so much about lately.”
“Fuck me,” he muttered. “You must be the blue-eyed rayo de sol she mentioned on the phone the other day. I’m sorry, I don’t remember if she mentioned your name.”
“It’s Sonny.” Rafael blinked again, and Sonny felt the need to clarify, “I mean, it’s Dominick, but no one calls me that.”
“No, it’s just. She literally described you as a ray of sunshine.”
Sonny grinned, his dimples on full display. “I try.”
Rafael sighed, “Well, I am sorry she let me bother you. I will go tell her to keep her nose out of your business.”
“You don’t have to do that. I think it’s kind of sweet, actually.”
“Embarrassing. Embarrassing is the word you’re looking for.”
“She just wants you to-” he stopped short. “Look, I’m the only grandson, so my nonna adores me... But she still tries to set me up with every single woman on Staten Island, you know? At least yours cares enough to get it right. I mean, she hasn’t been wrong about anything yet.”
“Don’t tell her that.” Rafael thought for a moment. “Well, I guess if I’m not eating with my abuelita and she did go through all the trouble of introducing us... will you at least have dinner with me?”
“Um, yeah. I would like that. Thank you.” He watched as Rafael unpacked the food, handing him a small box. “I was beginning to wonder if you actually existed.” Sonny admitted. “I mean, you were sounding too good to be true. And then she kept insisting that I had just missed you.”
“Too good to be true, huh?” Sonny shrugged and laughed. “Well, you already know what my grandmother thinks about me. Tell me about yourself?”
Sonny talked as they ate and occasionally Rafael interjected with an anecdote of his own. Sonny was loud, he talked with his hands, and he laughed at his own jokes, and yet Rafael was intrigued. He was surprised to find himself actually enjoying the company of the younger man, and hoped Sonny felt the same.
“Oh... hey, I have to get back to work. But, um, this was nice.”
“Is she still watching us?” Rafael asked. Sonny glanced up and then nodded. “Then I guess I should be on my best behavior. But would you like to go on a proper date with me sometime?”
“Yes,” Sonny stood and gave Rafael his phone number. “Maybe you can come over and I’ll cook something, sometime?”
“Sure. I’ll call you. It was nice meeting you, Sonny.”
“Yeah, you too. Have a good night, Rafael.” Sonny turned and as he made his way back into the building, he caught sight of Catalina’s triumphant grin.
tags: @flufftober2021 @beardsanddetectives @itsjustmyfantasyroom @moderateshouting
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red-cape-morgana · 3 years
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It’s on me
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Based on this very cute fact shared by @inkedroplets
Ao3 version
Lena was simply doing her job. Kara simply wanted a coffee before work. The cashier simply did what he thought was polite. All in all, nothing out of the ordinary for a Tuesday morning. At least that was before Kara’s curiosity got the best of her.
Lena checks the address on her phone one more time before leaving. She had spotted the place when it was still being arranged and had decided to let it run a few weeks before checking it out.
Being a famous and rich Instagram influencer, showing her lifestyle to all her followers is what she does for a living. But it’s also because she knows that so many people don’t have the spare time needed to look through the city’s narrow streets and find small shops, even though they’d find more unique pieces and better services with those small commercants. For Lena, her Instagram is a way to help both parties.
That’s how Lena finds herself walking into that brand new coffee shop where they’ve set up lots of plants, books you can read while you enjoy your coffee and some art students’ pieces that you can buy if you like them. The place still has this air of brand new installation, but she can tell that the owner has put in a lot of effort to make it homey and personal.
Maybe I should promote some art pieces every once in a while. I’m sure the students could use the boost and the money that’d come with it, Lena thinks while stepping into the ordering line.
Her followers voted for her to review this new place and it will be her biggest post of the week. For this, she of course brought her co-host, Mochi, her ragdoll cat of 5 years. He has been her teammate ever since she started this page. At first she only saw it as a way to kill time,one that would drive her family insane. And taking pictures of an adorable kitten in many places around National City doesn’t hurt when you try getting an audience on social media. Now, this handsome man is quietly enjoying the adventure from the special backpack with the submarine bubble window Lena bought a couple years ago (this is so much more practical and comfortable when she brings him along, and he is very photogenic in it as well so she calls that a win-win).
She is standing in the line, looking at all the drinks the place offers, when she suddenly feels observed. Being the rebellious child of the Luthor family has gotten Lena to find pictures of herself on many mags covers. And to find a fuming Lillian waiting for her on many occasions as well.
So, when she turns a bit to take a discreet look at the expected paparazzi waiting to pounce on her, she is for the least surprised. There are no paps in sight, just a very cut, and very focused on Mochi, blonde girl.
Lena can’t really see her face since the woman is slightly crouching down to be at the same height as Mochi, but she can hear her cooing very softly at her cat “Aren’t you the softest cat ever? Yes, you are! Yes, you are!”
The girl must feel the weight of Lena’s gaze on her cause she suddenly freeze, before looking up at her like a deer caught in headlights.
Wow! Her eyes are such an intense blue! It’s like looking right at the sky, Lena thinks.
“I’m sorry. I just saw your cat and he was looking at me. And I love pets. I really love them. But I don’t have one, not yet at least. I’ve always wanted to though! It’s just that my sister is kinda allergic to them and…”
“There's no harm done, dear,” Lena interrupts the word vomit, sensing that if she doesn’t they could still be here in an hour talking about why this chick couldn’t have a pet when she was a kid. “I don’t mind at all the attention I mean, this backpack is kinda designed for showing the pet. And I know Mochi loves being the center of attention. So really, we’re good.”
The blonde seems to relax somewhat thanks to her reassurances that what she did is absolutely fine.
“I’m Kara, by the way. Nice to meet you and Mochi.” she says while offering a tentative hand for Lena to shake.
Lena is actually surprised that Kara doesn’t mention right away anything about her last name,or outrightly asks for a selfie with her. Most of her human interactions are based on that, people wanting to prove they’ve met Lena Luthor. Never caring to get to know the person behind the account.
Her thoughts are interrupted by a discreet cough from the cashier who’s trying to get her attention. The line had progressed while they were talking, and it’s Lena’s turn to order.
“Excuse me,” she says while turning away from Kara to tell him what she’d like to drink. “I’ll have a tall frozen matcha latte, but with almond milk. I’ll take an extra dose of vanilla syrup as well. And could I get some water for my cat please? I’ll keep him on my lap but I’d like him to drink a bit before we go on our way. Is it possible?”
“Sure, miss. No problem with that. What will your friend like to drink please?” he says, briefly glancing from his tablet to Kara.
Lena is about to protest that they’re not together, but for once, she’d like to enjoy a drink in a new place with a new person as well. Constantly looking at her phone to answer strangers' inquisitive questions and curiosity seems a lot less stressful if she gets to share this tiny moment with a new face that seems to not know her name at all.
She turns to a blushing and spluttering Kara before asking with a small smile tugging at her lips “So, Kara, what do you drink? It’s on me.”
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