#i have spent more than half of my waking hours in the last week seriously thinking of suicide. i don't know how to stop this

[catkin-morgs-kookaburralover]

I keep listening to different pieces of music that I love and then my brain comes in all helpful with 'this sounds like great music to die with doesn't it'

[oftenwantedafton]

Moody and Gray - William Afton x Female Reader

Chapter 4

Rating - Explicit

Warning - sexual content

Also available on AO3

It’s already been one of those days.

You’ve overslept. Your walk to the bus stop concludes with a truck driving by too fast, disrupting a large puddle and drenching your work pants. Delightful.

“The dad at table seven is handsy. Watch out,” one of the servers greets you after you’ve hung your coat up in the locker room and tied your apron around your waist. Awesome.

“Excuse me, miss. This machine just ate all my son’s tickets and now it’s jammed. Can you get someone to fix this?”

You sigh, shoving your order pad back into your apron pocket. “I’ll ask.” You give table seven a wide berth as you pass. The guy has molester written all over him.

Not like your boss doesn’t like to get handsy too though, right? That was part of the reason you’d slept late. You’d spent a good hour in bed last night thinking about his mouth and his hands and rubbing circles over your clit until you’d eventually let yourself go, yelling his name while the throes of pleasure wracked your body. The neighbors must be wondering who William is now. Don’t start that again.

Your eyes flick up to the office. The lights are definitely off and the door is closed. The man you’re lusting after is not there.

Neither, apparently, is anyone from maintenance. ‘Out with the flu’ one of the custodians informs you.

You duck your head into the kitchen. “Has anyone seen Mr. Afton?”

One middle aged man looks up from sprinkling cheese atop a sauce laden raw pizza crust. “I wouldn't. He’s in a foul mood. I had to get him to sign for a delivery earlier and he just about took my head off.”

Wonderful. “I’ll take my chances. Where is he?”

The man shrugs. “Your funeral. He’s in Parts and Service.”

You groan inwardly. You’ve seen the service room only once, during your mandatory tour at orientation. No place you’ve ever had a reason to visit otherwise. It’s full of animatronic parts and endoskeletons that are infinitely more creepy than their fur covered counterparts on the center stage.

And now your employer is there, upset for fuck knows what reason. Fantastic.

Your pants make a soft swishing sound as the wet material rubs together. It’s cold and unpleasant and it reminds you of the day you’d had the drink poured on you last week. Nope, don’t go there.

You knock on the service room door. Receive no answer. Bite your bottom lip and try again. Still no response. You push and the door surrenders to your touch.

The room is large. Probably one of the larger areas in the restaurant aside from the dining room. There are a pair of garage doors at the far end for bringing in heavy equipment from outside. You can see William seated at one of the workstations, fiddling with something in front of him. You hear a metallic clicking sound and he curses, shoving the object across the desk away from him.

“Mr. Afton?”

He turns his head sharply at your intrusion. “What?”

“One of the ticket exchange machines is broken. A customer is complaining about it. No one from maintenance is in. I thought maybe you’d have a set of keys.”

He eases off the stool he’s perched on, a short drop to the concrete floor with those long limbs of his. “You were late again today.”

“Are you kidding me? My car, as you damn well know, is out of commission. I had to walk to the bus. I’m like wearing half of a dirty water puddle from Main Street because they never fix the drainage system.”

“I said no excuses.”

You scoff in disbelief. “Seriously?”

Your boss strides across the room, pushing the door behind you closed. “I would have given you a ride. Not that you’d probably be able to wake up at that hour. But still. Better than walking. If only you’d asked.”

You shake your head in disbelief. What was it with this guy? He really got off on the begging thing, didn’t he? “Didn’t think of it. Good to know for next time,” you say, attempting to sound casual, wondering why he’s just shut the door.

“There should not be a next time. Come here.” His voice is low. The British accent drags right against the space between your legs.

You step closer to him, because you want to and not because he’s demanded it, you tell yourself. His hands sit on your waist and he pushes you easily back against the door. The gray eyes are dark storm clouds today.

You tentatively rest a hand on the satin purple fabric of his vest, tucking your fingers underneath one edge so you can feel his chest through the long sleeve dress shirt he’s wearing, gathering a handful of the silk tie that’s the exact same dark violet shade. “You could have just tried to jumpstart my car, you know. I don’t think you minded the inconvenience of giving me a ride home half as much as you’re pretending.”

His fingernails dig into your scalp, palm pushing against your forehead as he tips your head back. “Didn’t think of it at the time. You should have invited me in,” he murmurs.

You wind the tie around your hand. “That’s moving a little fast, don’t you think?” He shrugs. “You ran away anyway.”

“I most certainly did not run away,” he growls.

“What’s got you so worked up today, Gray?”

He frowns a little over the new nickname, then nods, smiling slightly. “There’s an employee here that’s causing me a lot of grief.”

“Tell me who it is. I’ll sort them right out for you.”

“I think I can handle her.”

“You think so, huh?” You jerk on the tie and his face dips to capture your lips.

Toothpaste over coffee. No cigarette yet today. A soft moan that grabs something within you and twists. The hand still at your waist travels, following the curve of your buttocks. Something hard presses against you, on the opposite side from the order pad still tucked into your apron pocket.

“Let’s try again tonight. I’ll jump that rust bucket car of yours then follow you back. You invite me in. We’ll have…dinner or something.” His teeth pull your bottom lip. You like the promise behind that last part. Or something.

“That rust bucket is all I can afford because my boss is a cheap asshole.”

“You’re paid a standard wage. If you don’t get good tips that’s not my problem. Fuck.” You decide to stroke along that hard line pressing against his pants. He feels alarmingly large. He’s going to be a challenge in more ways than one.

“I deserve a raise.”

“For what? You’re late every day.”

“Not every day,” you protest. His tongue swipes your jaw and his hand moves from your ass to your crotch and your brain short circuits as the blood travels elsewhere.

“You have an attitude problem. You don’t participate in the team building exercises. You’re not even compliant with the dress code. Just look at you. You’re a mess,” he whispers against your ear, making you shiver. You should probably feel insulted, but you’re getting turned on by his degrading words instead. Was this going to be a new kink of yours now?

You squeeze the probing hand at your concealed sex with your thighs. Even with the layers of clothing dividing you it feels amazing. He shoves the seam of your pants between your lips and against your clit and you grind against it while you palm his cock through his trousers, the material less coarse, more silky smooth than the ones you’re wearing. The needy sounds he’s making vibrate when his mouth presses against you. Did you used to hate this room? This is your new favorite spot in the restaurant, followed by that smoking area outside. You wonder how many other places the pair of you can desecrate.

“Enough,” he pants, releasing you and retreating a couple of paces backward. It’s not, and you both know it, but you are at work and the customers are waiting. He has a business to run. He’s the breadwinner and all that. You need the money, too.

Life’s most inconvenient necessity, weighed against this other, more basic need.

***

You leave the service room alone. Your employer needs a few moments to collect himself. Calm down. Not have such an obvious raging boner.

You dip into the employee restroom to check your appearance in the mirror. Your cheeks are flushed. Your hair is disheveled. You do indeed look a mess like he’d said. And who’s fault is that?

You’ve forgotten the warning about table seven, standing a little too close as you distractedly watch William working on the ticket machine. He looks good on his knees. Really good. Jesus, calm down. You feel a hand cup your ass cheek.

Afton shuts the door and locks it and the smirk he has ready for your staring features fades when he sees what’s happening a heartbeat after you realize it yourself. His entire face darkens as he lurches to his feet. You’ve never seen him like this; a new level of fury reached.

“What the hell, man?” You jerk back. The man’s kids are like right there by the row of crane machines. Fucking pervert.

“Get out. Right now. If you come back again, I will call the police and we will be pressing charges.” Afton’s threat is issued at a low tone, mindful of the other customers. His body shields you from the man’s view, remaining there until he’s assured the man and his children have left.

***

Compared to the early afternoon’s events, the remainder of your shift is, well, pretty boring.

The hours drag. You can’t stop thinking about William’s proposal.

Mercifully there are no stragglers that evening and you get to leave on time. You sit in your car and wait for the parking lot to empty, for the owner to park his car in front of yours. It still takes several tries before the engine comes to life. The hood closes and William’s eyes meet yours.

You make it home in nine minutes, a new record. It seems William has realized there’s a gas pedal in his vehicle and matches your speed. You struggle with the key in the lock on the front door of your apartment. It finally creaks open and you step inside, reaching for the light switch.

You wish you’d tidied up better. Ran the vacuum around, maybe dusted. Nah, fuck that, you despised dusting. You wouldn’t do that for anybody, you don’t care who it is. But you would have made more of an effort to clean your place if you’d known you were going to be having company.

“I’m going to wash up at your sink. The car, you know…” He holds up his palms so you can see the dark stains blemishing his ivory skin. Rust or oil or who knows what.

“Oh, yeah, sure. Go ahead. You want something to drink?”

“That would be nice.” He enters the kitchen and turns the faucet on and applies a dollop of dish soap into the palm of one hand. Thank god you didn’t have dirty dishes in the sink.

Wait. Did you put your laundry in the hamper today? You’d been in such a rush to get ready for work that morning. And you definitely hadn’t made your bed. Damn it.

“Let me see what I have.” You open the fridge. There’s a six pack of wine coolers in the vegetable drawer that’s never seen anything green. Not glamorous, but better than nothing.

You tuck your fingers into the carton handle and set the pack down on the counter, using your shirt front to twist off the cap and hand him the bottle of mixed berry or whatever girly flavor it is. It’s still basically beer, just sweetened malt liquor. Whatever. He’ll get over it.

“Thank you.”

You watch the neck of the bottle press against his bottom lip, keenly aware of the sound and movement along his throat as he swallows, the motion somewhat restricted by that proper shirt collar.

“You must be eager to get out of those clothes.”

“What?”

“The puddle, you know.” One eyebrow lifts slightly as he takes another long swallow.

“Oh. Yeah.” The pants have dried out but the grit from the road feels gross, resting unpleasantly along your skin.

“Would you like to take a shower while I order us dinner?”

“I…yeah, sure.” The confidence you’d had earlier has evaporated. You don’t really know what to do now that William Afton is standing in your kitchen.

Well, that’s not entirely true. You have a few ideas.

You take a deep breath to gather your courage and then close the distance between you. You pull the bottle from his hands and gulp the pink carbonated beverage down. You’ve already swapped spit, so you don’t think it’s too improper. “Or, you know, you could join me. And we could do the dinner thing later.”

“Join you. In the shower…” The older man muses. “Yes, I’d like that.” He steals the bottle back and sets it on the counter and then he steals your breath with another kiss.

***

You like watching William undress.

Everything is so neat and precise. Thumbing open each button of the vest. Loosening the knot of his tie and pulling the silk fabric free. Now the buttons at the cuffs of his shirt and the row down the center. Jerks on the leather strap of his wristwatch and sets it on the bathroom counter. A swift overhead tug for the undershirt. His collarbones are gorgeous. Such perfect lines connecting to his shoulders. Dark hair on his chest but it’s sparse. Just enough. A happy trail that parts his stomach into even planes and disappears promisingly beneath his pants.

There’s nothing sexy about what you’re wearing but you do your best to try to match the show your employer has just given you. Cross your arms and pull your work shirt over your head. Unlike his careful folded piles you let the article of clothing drop to the floor next to the sneakers you’ve already toed off. Reach behind and squeeze the band at the back of your brassiere, the hook and eye closures releasing. Let the shoulder straps dip forward, relaxing your bent arms so it falls and joins the shirt. His eyes rake over your breasts appreciatively.

It seems he’s waiting for you to make your next move.

You reach for the button fastening his pants and ease the zipper down. This man, this fucking man has dark purple boxers briefs. Honest to God. You shake your head and smirk, reaching inside and squeezing over the fabric. A little gasp of pleasure.

His fingers are already working on your fly. Thumbs tuck into the waistband at the sides, collecting your panties’ elastic one along with it and he kneels, dragging the black material with him.

William Afton on his knees before you in your bathroom. If someone had told you this would happen ten hours ago when you were rushing to get ready for work, you never would have believed it. You comb your fingers through his messy dark hair, lifting each leg in succession so he can finish tugging the pant legs free from around their tapered points near your ankles. He kisses one hip, just a brief graze of his mouth along your skin and you hiss at the contact. Every touch is electrifying. Socks removed and that’s it, the task is completed, you’re naked.

Afton rises and then sits on the closed toilet lid, crossing each ankle over one knee in turn, tugging on the dark laces of his sensible polished leather dress shoes while you turn on the shower faucet. Socks rolled and tucked neatly inside. Pants removed and folded to join the rest of his clothes. Briefs last. Those he leaves on the floor. Your eyes are drawn to his cock like a magnet. Dark pink flushed tissue. There’s so, so much of it. Your pussy throbs already in anticipation of the stretch he’s going to give you. A clear drop of precum on the crown makes your mouth water.

You manage to tear your eyes away to regard his face. His eyes are black, the pupils completely blown wide. Fuck.

He steps over the edge of the tub and you take the hand he offers you, pulling you into the deluge. You drag the liner and curtain shut. His hand closes over the bar of soap on the narrow shelf tucked into the corner and begins to work it into a lather. Hands the soap to you and goes straight for your tits. You rub suds over his chest. You feel those glorious hands of his slide down your abdomen, one tucking between your legs.

You whimper, broadening your stance so he has better access. It’s brisk and business like, until it isn’t. Until he’s on his knees again and pushing you against the fiberglass wall and splashing water to rinse you as you brace one foot on the shallow ledge on the corner. His fingers press into the soft flesh of your thigh to support you. The sharp edge of his nose digs into your mound and his tongue slides over your clit and between your lips.

Your head snaps back and hits the shower wall. You knot a hand in his raven dark hair and grind yourself against his mouth. God does this man know how to eat pussy. You don’t want to linger too much on the details of why that is, if he’s had a lot of practice. You focus instead on the feeling of the suction over the sensitive bundle of nerves and the finger that slides inside you. It’s almost embarrassing how quickly you come undone for him. You suppose it’s been awhile since you’ve been with a man, and this isn’t just any man. You’ve got William fucking Afton kneeling in your shower eating you out with as much enthusiasm as a condemned man consuming his final meal.

He’s not resting on his laurels either; the firm wedge of muscle softening to give you little kitten licks, the finger caressing your insides gently until he feels the change in your body and he thrusts more roughly, his tongue incessant between your folds and on your clit. You’re going to cum again.

“Oh my God. Will…I’m….” You’ve never called him by his first name. Certainly not a nickname. You wonder if he likes it. You certainly like the wracking tremors of your thighs as he brings you to orgasm a second time.

You wind your fingers behind his neck when he stands upright. His erection presses against you. Somehow you manage to find the soap again. Lather that feverish arousal. He’s going to absolutely ruin you with it. Scrotum tight and heavy. God, he’s going to fill you so full.

You push gently against his hips, indicating you want him to turn around. Scrape your soapy nails over his shoulder blades. Take a taste of the shower water with a hint of orchid soap. There’s a moment when you pause and bury your face against his spine. Wrap your arms around him and squeeze. His hand slides over the circle of your arms, resting there. You’re overwhelmed.

William turns and you release him. He reaches for the shampoo bottle. The liquid is cold in your hair. His nails scrape your scalp and he gently massages the cleanser into your tresses. Bends to kiss you. You close your eyes and he tugs you back under the spray to rinse. You duplicate the process, taking your time reaching up to siphon lather through his hair.

The last of the suds vanish around the drain and you shut the shower off. He doesn’t bother with the towels you’ve laid out, pushing your drenched body right through the door that adjoins the bathroom and your bedroom. Presses you down beneath him on the bed. Fucks right into you without preamble. Just shower wet now coated with your slick. Mouth on yours. A needy sound. Yours or his, you don’t know.

It hurts. He’s so big inside of you. Your knees squeeze his ribs. He rocks forward again. You realize he hasn’t even fully entered you yet. He’s got to fuck his way open to reach your cervix. And when he does, oh. The absolute ache of it.

Cool lips and hot tongue on your throat. The taste of the shower water and soap when he lavs your mouth open, the motion mirroring what he’s doing down below. You clutch his shoulder, stroke his jaw, knot a hand in the sheets beneath you. “You’re so tight, Moody. Feel so good, love.” That accent alone coaxes a third climax from you and your tightening walls drag his own out. You can feel him flood your insides, savoring the sound he makes when he loses himself in the pleasure of your body.

The room is dimly lit. There hadn’t been an opportunity to turn the lights on. The bathroom’s illumination is forced to pull double duty. You can just make out his features. A little smile. Maybe a bit arrogant. He knows he’s rocked your world. But you like to think you gave as good as you got. Not all those drops on his brow are from the shower. He’s worked up a sweat. You’ll probably end up back inside the shower again before the night is over.

Today was certainly ending a hell of a lot better than it had started.

[journeytoasoberlife]

Day 5.

Today I've had many thoughts around my emotional stability and when I'll be able to see it plateau. Having a cluster b personality disorder will blur those lines, but that's something I've come to recognize. I'm unsure of the sober side of that, making it uncharted territory for me, which is harder to navigate.

I woke up this morning and continued doing laundry, I filed my weekly unemployment, applied for more jobs and tried to keep busy. I had to remind myself that I'm not a failure with this, the last two jobs I've had I was treated very poorly and got the shit end of the stick in the worst way. Where I normally filled my morning with mimosas or a seltzer, I'm drinking more coffee, which should be water but whatever. I am using nicotine to fill those gaps, which I'm currently fine with.

I hung out with my friend Alex today, she's 8 months sober. Before her sobriety we would drink the entire time we were together. It was a nice change of pace and I'm so proud of her journey. I too will be there one day. We got pizza and I learned that I am not a fan of basil in mocktails, I mean seriously, who thought of that?

My hiking boots will be here tomorrow and I'll spend some of my day breaking them in. I'm also meeting with another friend that I've recently reconnected with.

It's currently 11:52 pm and I know I won't be able to sleep for a while. Not going to bed high or tipsy is something I'm still struggling with. During the peak of my alcoholism I wasn't really sleeping, though that also was work related. I would maybe get 3-4 hours if I was lucky, waking up every ~2 hours almost like clockwork.

My emotions took a shit on me tonight, too. By that time I would've easily been on my 3-4 cider and would either be ignoring my emotions or in a full blown breakdown. I think writing these every night gives me the outlet I didn't know I needed or willingly ignored if I'm being honest.

I've been trying to eat more regularly but I haven't been putting as much energy into it as I should. T and I would get breakfast every morning and that was a nice shift for me. I know I won't be able to go to one of my favorite spots for a bit because I always drank there, but I do make good breakfast when I put some effort in. I really need to go shopping but I keep ignoring it. Maybe I'll do that tomorrow. I'll also have to get another Elf Bar, the one I bought while T and I were out is killer on my throat and I know my good one will go bad soon, my novo could work if it dies and but that doesn't have nearly enough nicotine in it.

Things are adding up and I'm nervous about the weeks ahead. Will is coming home soon and my life will shift again, and I'm unsure how I'll be able to navigate that as well. He drinks a lot and while he was more than supportive, I'm worried about it.

I keep having to remind myself that I pulled out of this once before, and that was way worse than this time around. I spent the better half of 2019 drunk in a bar alone, waking up the next morning wondering how I was even able to drive home. That was the 5 year anniversary of my moms death and I couldn't shake it. I was living alone, having broken up with my partner, spiraling and wanting to die. I don't want to be in that place again, ever.

I'm worried that people will find me to be a liability, and in turn won't want to be in my life. Maybe I shouldn't be worried about something like that but there's people I never want to lose, even if the road gets rocky. I'm trying to be enough for myself, which I've never attempted before and quite frankly, I'm scared. I always made the joke that I was rawdogging life because I'm not medicated for my depression and anxiety, but now I'm really doing it and that's scary too.

I'm hoping for an easier day tomorrow. Hopefully I can find it.

Anyway, goodnight tumblr.

[ocean-anchored]

Dear future self... June 27, 2023

I’ve been feeling really flat lately. I definitely think my hormones are in play with it because of how much I’ve fucked my poor body up but partly because I feel like I’m burning out.

I feel too tired to express & understand my feelings. I keep trying to numb it with watching shows & keeping myself occupied on other things too. My brain is too tired for this. I need to get back into going to bed at a reasonable time. I hate sleeping in like I have been & feeling like I’m not rested. It’s 10:30pm. I’m partially waiting if Zack will call me back, our phone calls have been so broken up today. I miss him. I miss the early weeks when we didn’t worry about work or other things. I know it was la la land, I was really just living in a fantasy world that felt so perfect. Continued.... July 6, 2023 Well, I definitely didn't finish writing that one. I looked back briefly to see and it's almost been a month since I wrote again. Man I'm not doing good at this. I've been feeling a bit of burn out. Oh look I wrote that above also. I'm getting tired and unmotivated working which sucks because right now is the best time to keep pressing in. While Zack is away most of the weeks usually, it gives me time to relax during the week evenings and work. I just haven't had as much motivation. I've more been starting later and then working for Ed into the evening rather than still getting up at a decide hour. I do miss my routine. I miss my night time routine, reading before bed, skin care and even doing a work out. I've been resorting to watching shows to numb my brain because I'm so tired, which I need to be gentle on myself because I have been doing a lot and working a lot so it's okay, I just miss the routine. I miss waking up at 6:30 and starting my day. I'm still waking up early if I spend the night at Zacks but the half hour commute definitely isn't enjoyable. Speaking of Zack. Things are still going really well. We've had a couple head butting's though. His job is taking a toll for sure and we're still really getting to know how each other works. I can't remember if I mentioned the night when I went over before he was going to the US for the week and that he was really worried about me talking and seeing other guys. It was a really good conversation, I felt it was pretty healthy, especially considering it could go completely opposite in another way if he wasn't who he was. He was just worried, I get it. I still just find it so odd that we're just so much the same. His same concerns are usually mine flipped. But we're so much so the same person with the same values and have had similar things happen to us in the past that we hold trust so high but that's what makes us work that much better. It was reassuring. Kind of honestly super nice that he doesn't talk to girls, extremely reassuring. Richardt wasn't like that and deep down I didnt fully trust him. But I really do trust Zack, everything he says he means and his actions follow and line up with it. It's wildly refreshing. We had a little tuffle last friday, Dustins birthday - side tangent but I went skydiving. Like who am I!!!! I can't believe I did that. The guy I went tandem to, Steve, was really great. He was so calm, seriously made me feel so safe and so comfortable. I really didn't worry too much, the excitement overtook. The plan ride up was great and I still felt pretty comfortable, it was when my legs were dangling out of the tiny plane that I realized what the hell was I doing, but only for a few seconds, when we jumped, it was more the thrill that just overtook my body and mind. It was honestly such a wild experience and so fun, I'm so blessed to have gone and it was such a sick experience with Dustin, I'm really glad to have spent that. What a memory to have and hopefully another (more) to come. We went for dinner where Zack and Dustin met finally. They seemed to have got along good which is nice. I was off pretty quick and jumped right into assumptions that Zack was lying, he had made a comment that he hadn't napped, which didn't make sense when he texted me at 2:30 saying he woke up from one & he was nervous for me to jump, so that set me off for a min. Then I just questioned if he had even gone for the haircut that he said he was going to when I called him after we were on our way back. My mind just spiraled down. When we got back to my place we were in the yard. He had made a comment that he was there to talk if I wanted if something was bothering me. I did mention that all the talk about my dad did damper my mood, then I said something like I was scared of getting hurt. That turned real quick. I wouldn't say it got ugly but we definitely weren't seeing eye to eye and I didn't like the way he was responding. It took a bit, I went to lay down and he had a smoke. When he came back in we were able to talk about it. It was better then, explaining our sides. I get how he got defensive. I 1005 understand, coming from his point he questioned why and how I could be the one being scared of being hurt while I was the one that had guy friends (only dustin is the one I hang out with 1:1) and that I have guys always sending me snaps etc. I totally get that. I really do get it, it really puts so much into perspective. We talked about how we handle ourselves, he took responsibility for how he reacted and that he should have heard me out. We were able to resolve and get over it quickly then, with a lot more understanding. Yesterday though we had another little one, different though. We talked it out today which was really really important, another learning curve and big moment for us in learning each other.

[allthingsfangirl101]

Regret–Joe Keery

The day Joe left to go to Hollywood is burned into my memory. Sadly, not for a good or bitter-sweet reason. That day was the day I lost my best friend. In more ways than one.

The night before he left, I made the mistake of telling him that he was the first boy I ever loved. To which he responded by telling me that I was his best friend and nothing more. I left his house that night, tears streaming down my face.

I haven't seen him in over five years. Since then, I went to med school and became a doctor.

Tonight, I needed a break from a long-ass week so I went to the bar to get a drink. I ordered my usual and sat at the bar. I scrolled through my phone for a little bit as I slowly drank my drink. Suddenly, there was a soft tap on my shoulder. When I turned and saw who it was, my stomach did a half-drop/half-flip.

"Joe?"

His name got caught in my throat. He smiled as he ran his fingers through his hair, a nervous habit he developed when he started auditioning.

"Hey, Y/N," he smiled. "It's been a long time."

"It has," I said, not sounding as confident as I wish I had.

"Which means we have a lot to catch up on," he continued.

"That's true," I said.

"How about right now?" He said, sounding about as confident as I felt. "Unless you're busy. . ."

"No," I said, a little faster than I wish I had. I cleared my throat before continuing, "I'm free."

"Great," he smiled, slightly sounding relieved. "Wanna get a booth?"

Joe and I spent the next hour catching up. He talked to me about the Netflix show she was working on, and I told him about med school.

"So, it seems like we both followed our dreams," I said, glancing at the empty glass in my hands.

"Seems like it," Joe chuckled. He cleared his throat before looking up at me. "I've missed you, Y/N."

"I've missed you too," I said, dropping my voice. He reached over and put his hand on top of mine, but I pulled it away from him.

"Look," he sighed. "I know we left things kinda tense and all but. . ."

Before he could say anything, my phone started ringing. "Sorry," I sighed. "This is my work phone."

"It's alright," he said as he gestured for me to answer it.

"This is Dr. Y/L/N."

"Hi, Y/N," Nurse Lulu sighed into the phone. "I know it's your night off, but we're extremely short-staffed. We could really use you."

"I'm on my way."

I hung up the phone and looked guiltily at Joe. "I'm sorry," I said quickly. "That was the hospital. They're short-staffed and need my help. I'm really sorry, Joe."

"It's okay," he chuckled. "Duty calls."

"I'm sorry," I sighed again. I stood up and started to leave, but Joe called me back.

"Wait," he stopped. It looked like he was going to say something but changed his mind at the last second. "It was really nice to see you again, Y/N."

"It was nice to see you too, Joe."

                                * * * * *

Throughout my shift, my mind kept drifting towards Joe. It took me a long time to wake up without my first thoughts being about Joe Keery. Sadly, the next few days I woke up back to that habit.

I haven't seen this guy in five years and it's like everything came flooding back. All of those feelings I struggled for months to push down, came rushing back.

A couple of days later, I was wrapping up my shift when one of the nurses stopped me.

"Sorry, Y/N," she sighed. "A patient asked for you by name?"

"By name? Seriously?" I cleared my throat before putting my stethoscope back around my neck. "What room?"

When I walked into the room, without checking the name of the patient, I was surprised by who it was.

"Joe?"

I put down his chart and quickly closed the gap between us. I started to look him over, ignoring the look on his face.

"Are you alright?" I asked. "What's wrong?"

"I'm fine," he laughed as he grabbed my hands, stopping me. "I wanted to see you."

"So you decided to come to the hospital and give me a heart attack?" I asked, playfully pushing his hands off me.

"Sorry," he chuckled. "I had to see you."

My breath got caught in my throat when he reached over and grabbed my hands.

"Joe," I stuttered.

He leaned down and pressed his lips delicately to mine. He gave me every chance to break the kiss, but I never took one. I quickly got lost in the kiss until all the feelings of heartbreak, confusion, and embarrassment I felt when I first told him how I felt came rushing back.

I broke the kiss when those horrible feelings hit me like a brick wall. I looked down and it took everything in me not to give in to Joe's attempts to get me to look up at him.

"Y/N," he whispered.

"You said you didn't have feelings for me," I cut him off.

"What?" He asked, a little lighter than it should've come across.

"Five years ago," I sighed, wrapping my arms around myself. "When I. . . When I told you how I felt, you said you didn't feel the same."

I finally looked up at him when he didn't say anything. He was studying me, opening and closing his mouth as he tried to think of something to say. This was almost as bad as the silence after I told Joe how I felt five years ago.

"I didn't," he stuttered. "At least, I thought I didn't. But as soon as you left. . . I knew I messed up."

"Joe," I sighed, pulling my hands out of his. I took a step back and wrapped my arms around myself. "Please don't do this."

"Tell the truth?"

"Get my hopes up."

I was about to walk away but he grabbed my wrist. I didn't turn around as he intertwined our fingers and clarified.

"Please," he whispered. "Let me explain."

I finally turned around and saw him looking at me with an expression I'd never seen on him before.

"Do we have to have this conversation at the hospital I work at?"

I smiled when my question made Joe laugh.

"Let's get out of here."

                                * * * * *

We walked into my apartment, Joe following behind me. We walked into my family room and sat down on my couch. Joe reached over and took my hand, instantly intertwining our fingers.

"When you first told me how you felt," he started, "I was split."

"What do you mean?" I asked, my voice soft.

"I didn't know what to do," he clarified. "I was leaving. Part of me wanted to stay behind and start a life with you, but a part of me was scared."

"Of what?" I asked, surprised Joe heard me.

"Of resenting you."

"Why would you resent me?"

"I don't know," he sighed. "I just didn't want something to happen that ended with me resented you because I didn't follow my dream. But the minute I moved to LA and you weren't with me, I knew I had messed up. I hate that I moved away the day after you told me how you felt, but here's the truth; I feel the same way."

"You feel. . . What?"

"I'm in love with you too," he said like the weight was being lifted off his shoulders.

He grabbed my face and instantly pressed his lips to mine. I was too shocked to really kiss him back. This is what I have wanted for as long as I can remember, but I couldn't wrap my head around the fact that Joe actually felt the same way about me.

I realized that he wasn't aggressively moving his lips against mine in an effort to get me to kiss him back. That realization is what made me finally start kissing him. I wrapped my arms around his neck and deepened the kiss. I felt Joe smile as he didn't hold back.

The longer our lips were pressed together, the more heated things got. Soon, we were in a heavy make-out session. Joe laid us down, hovering over me. Suddenly, he pulled away.

"I'm sorry I let you walk away," he said under his breath. "I've regretted it since the second you left my house that day. I was an idiot and a jerk. I should've at least called you. I'm so sorry, Y/N."

"Joe," I said shakily. "What happens next? I mean, do you really think we can pick things up where we left off?"

"I see no reason why we can't," he chuckled.

"Just like that?"

Joe smiled as he leaned down and gently pressed his lips to mine. Our lips moved in sync for a few seconds before he broke the kiss.

"Just like that."

[earlgreydream]

exams.

| stucky x reader | fluff |

this was so self indulgent. I need Steve and Bucky to help me with my exams

You hit submit on your online exam, holding your breath. You’d been sitting in Steve’s office for hours, notes spread all over the desk in front you. Steve was on the couch on the other side of the room, reading from a book, and Bucky was out on a mission with Stark. 

“Fuck!” you gasped, seeing the 62% grade. Steve looked up, and your head dropped into your hands, tears sliding down your cheeks. You broke into sobs, seeing all of your time and effort wasted. 

“Y/N!” Steve walked over and wrapped his arms around your shoulders, coming to stand behind you. You choked on your cries, tears soaking your hands that were pressed to your face. Steve sighed when he looked at the screen, his lips pressing against the back of your head. 

“It’s okay, it’s one grade.”

“It’s not! It’s everything! I’m working so hard and I just keep failing!” you wept, and Steve spun your chair around and turned you into his body. His hand went to the back of your head, cradling you gently as you sobbed into his chest.

“Y/N, take a deep breath. There will be other exams. I know how hard you’ve been working. You need a break to recharge.”

“I can’t, I have a history exam at the end of this week-”

“Bucky and I will help you. Come on, you’ve been bent over the desk all day.”

“Steve, no-” you argued, trying to reopen your laptop as Steve closed it. He caught your wrists and pulled you away from the desk.

“You’re done.” Steve didn’t care that you were fighting him, you needed a break from your university work and you were getting it one way or another. You fought him but your strength was nothing compared to the super soldier serum, and you finally gave up and let him drag you out. 

“What are we doing?” you asked through weak sobs as you followed him through the Stark Tower penthouse. Loki looked up, and his brow knitted in concern. 

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m fine,” you muttered, not wanting to tell the mischievous god that you were crying over a failed exam.

“You’re not-”

“Leave her be, Loki,” Steve scolded. 

You were sat down on the couch, and Loki and the others cleared out so you could be alone with your boyfriend. Steve set a generous bowl of ice cream in your hands, and you couldn’t stop the small laugh when you saw rainbow sprinkles on it. His blue eyes were wide and concerned, and he brushed tears from your face. 

Steve did his best to cheer you up and help you relax, but he was never able to comfort you like Bucky could. Steve would’ve given anything to have your boyfriend home, helping him comfort you. 

You’d spent nearly every waking hour working on your university work for months. When you weren’t bent over your computer in Steve’s office, you were doing research at the library, or you were in classrooms, trying to take notes on everything your professors said. You loved school, but you were exhausted and it was wearing on you. The workload was like a beating, and you were just ready to be finished. 

Steve and Bucky were always being sent on missions, and most of the time it was just you and Loki at the tower. He was no help to your studies, usually trying to convince you to just drop out-- you’d never really need a degree with the connections and money you had. 

You weren’t an avenger, but you lived comfortably in Stark Tower with the others. When you weren’t occupied with schools or spending time with your boyfriends when they were home, you were babysitting Loki or helping run intelligence with Stark. You’d decided to go back to school, but now, with exams and papers piling up, you were miserable.

“Hey, honey,” Steve pulled you onto his lap as you cried over your ice cream.

“Sorry, I just... I just feel like I spend all this effort and energy and time only to fall short.” 

“I know it feels that way, but you’re doing well. You have good grades and you are so smart. It’s always hardest at the end of the semester. You can do this Y/N, you’re almost there.” 

You tried to smile at Steve, but you couldn’t. He set the bowl aside and held you against his chest. Your arms went around his neck and you squeezed the soldier tightly. Tears soaked through his shirt, and he rubbed your back gently. He kissed your head and smoothed his hands up under your shirt.

“I’m sorry Bucky isn’t here-”

“Steve,” you sat up and held his face.

“I love you. Thank you for taking care of me.”

You kissed him, before laughing softly and apologized for your tears soaking everything. He shook his head and kissed you again, relieved to see you show some amusement. 

“Your ice cream is getting all melty,” he laughed, spooning some into your mouth and kissing it off of your lips. 

The two of you shared the half-melted ice cream, and you started to ache from the position you were in, straddling his lap. You climbed off of him, and started walking back toward the office.

“Where do you think you’re going?” 

“I should study-”

“Not a chance. No more working today.”

“Steve,” you sighed, sticking your lower lip out. You huffed and walked back to him, letting Steve pick you up like a bride. You giggled and wrapped your arms around his neck, letting him carry you to your bedroom. 

Steve talked you into a hot shower with steamers that Bucky had brought back from some artisan soap shop in Russia where he’d gone on a mission and brought things back for you. He picked up your bedroom while he waited, putting in a takeout order from a place you liked uptown. 

You returned in spandex shorts and one of Steve’s flannels, rubbing your eyes. His hands went to your waist and he kissed your cheek, making you smile sleepily. You’d finally given in to how tired you were, the steam of the shower helping significantly. You were exhausted from stress and crying, and now you just wanted to curl up with Steve.

He walked back in with a bag of food, and you smiled, moving over in bed. He handed you a box of fried rice and you curled up against his side.

“What are we watching?” 

“Star Wars.”

Steve groaned and you gave him an offended look. He rolled his eyes, suggesting that maybe you could find something more entertaining. 

“If Bucky was here, he’d watch it with me...” you whispered, knowing it was a low blow. You didn’t mean it seriously, and Steve knew that, but he still felt a pang of guilt.

“Good thing I love Star Wars,” Steve hummed, moving you to lay back on his chest instead of under his arm. 

“I knew you’d come around,” you smiled. 

You were asleep before the movie was even over, and Steve slid out of bed carefully. He made sure the blankets were pulled over you, and you were curled up safely in the middle of the bed, not in danger of rolling off the edge without the usual boys on either side of you.

He left the movie on softly in case you woke up, but grabbed your empty takeout boxes and took them to toss away. He was headed back when the door opened, Bucky and Tony walking inside.

“Steve!” Bucky gasped, running to the blond. Steve hugged Bucky, kissing him for the first time in over a week.

“How was the mission?”

Steve listened to Bucky recount the details, explaining it was an overall success but he was exhausted and drained. Steel eyes searched the kitchen for you, but found nothing.

“Where’s Y/N?”

“Asleep. She failed her exam, and cried for hours. Y/N spends so much time with school and studying, and to see her so stress really worries me. And I’m not near as good as you at calming her down. She all but begged for you,” Steve explained, and Bucky’s eyes saddened.

“I hate that. It’s a lot for her, the stress. It shouldn’t be so hard. And don’t do that, Stevie. She adores you, and you know it.”

Bucky kissed him again briefly before going to find you. He smiled slightly at the familiar sight of The Last Jedi playing on the television in your room, knowing it was your favorite when you were anxious. He didn’t quite understand, but something about its familiarity soothed you.

Bucky sat down on the edge of the bed, causing you to stir out of your nap.

“Bucky?” You gasped when your eyes opened.

You lunged forward and threw your arms around his neck, wrapping yourself around his body tightly. He squeezed you and kissed your hair until you drew back. You grabbed his scruffy face and kissed your boyfriend, melting into him.

“Steve said you had a bad day,” Bucky finally spoke when you drew back for air. He brushed some hair from your face, and your eyes flitted to the blond behind him. You knew Steve would express his worry to Bucky, and you felt small under their concerned gazes.

“I failed one of my exams,” you admitted, your head hanging down. His lips pressed to your forehead, and he cradled you in his arms.

“It’s okay, my love. I know how hard you worked. So does Steve, and your professor knows too. We’re going to help you study so the next time it goes better, okay?” He tilted your chin up, making you look at him.

You nodded, consoled by the soldier.

“And I’ll help with your history exam. I know a lot about World War Two. I practically lived it,” Bucky joked, and you shook your head.

“Bucky, that’s not funny,” you bit back a laugh, and even Steve smiled.

“Thank you,” you relented, accepting a soft kiss. His hands rested on your waist under Steve’s massive flannel, rubbing small circles on your skin, the action soothing you.

“Did you manage to convince Steve to watch Star Wars with you?”

“Yes, but he whined.”

“Hey,” Steve began to defend himself, ready with the excuse that he did give in to watching the film with you.

“I’m just happy you’re home,” your voice was soft, and Bucky pulled you back into a hug.

“I’m so happy to be home with you.”

Bucky spent hours leaned over your notes with you, showing you flash cards and helping you study for your history final.

You kept apologizing, but he insisted that you were more than fine, and he was happy to help. Steve contributed when he could, though Bucky was much more patient with your academics.

However, Steve was the one who set a cup of coffee next to you as you sat to take your exam. With a reassuring kiss to your head, they left you alone to focus. You answered questions, referring to your notes when the answer didn’t come to mind immediately.

An hour and a half later, you breathed a huge sigh of relief when you saw the 97% flash across the screen. You closed your computer and went to find your boyfriends, to tell them about your success, and thank Bucky for the hours of tutoring he’d given you.

You found them reading in the library, and they both set their books down as soon as they heard your footsteps.

“How’d it go, doll?”

“I got a ninety-seven!” You shrieked excitedly, running to them and giggling and they wrapped their arms around you. Your cheeks were smothered with kisses and your delighted laughter healed the ache in their hearts caused by your stressed crying over your grades.

“So proud of our girl,” Steve praised you, and you squeezed them.

“Thank you! Thank you for helping me.”

“Always. And now, we get to have fun celebrating!”

“I’m a little bit exhausted. Can we celebrate in bed?” You asked hopefully, and a deviant smirk crossed Bucky’s face.

“Not like that, you pervert,” you giggled, swatting his hands away as he groped your butt through your thin shorts.

Steve wasn’t thrilled about your choice of celebration, but he would never deny you the simple happiness that binging the Star Wars prequels brought you. Bucky was more than excited to watch you get heated with Anakin, passionately declaring your love and loyalty to him, as you did every time you watched them.

“I don’t understand. He is the bad guy!” Steve complained.

“Shut up. He’s gorgeous. And he’s not even evil, he just wanted to save Padmé!”

“I could break him in half with my fingers,” Steve rolled his eyes.

“Probably not. Anakin has the force,” Bucky pointed out, and Steve shot him a glare.

You just laughed between them, eating from the large bowl of popcorn that was nestled in your lap. Steve didn’t mind half as much as he complained, and you knew that. Bucky engaged in all of your pro-dark side propaganda, enjoying the happy chatter that came along with watching your comfort movies.

They took care of you, thankful no more tears were being shed today over your classes.

[renecdote]

buddie 41+80 for the fandom mashup thing, please? 🥰

41. First Kiss

80. Green-Eyed Epiphany

Eddie has a boyfriend.

Eddie has had a boyfriend for the last three months and Buck... Buck is still having a little trouble with that. It's not that he thought Eddie was straight, okay, because there was that conversation they had two years ago, deep in the night, probably more than a little bolstered by the alcohol both their brains were swimming in (Chimney's fault. Buck couldn't quite remember why the next morning, but he was sure it was Chimney's fault.).

It's just... Eddie has a boyfriend. And maybe Buck kind of sort of definitely wishes that boyfriend was him. He spent a good twelve months in denial about his feelings for his best friend, then another twelve months trying to figure out what the hell to do about it, and now... Now it look like he has missed his chance.

The worst part? He likes James. James is nice and funny and, yes, ridiculously attractive. He works at a daycare, which means he's good with kids, and he hasn't pressured Eddie about meeting Chris at all, which is another tick in the win column.

Buck is starting to think that Eddie has a thing for teachers. Should he quit the LAFD and become a teacher?

No, that would be crazy.

Wouldn't it?

Yeah. Yeah, definitely crazy. He's not going to do that. Mostly because Maddie would tease him mercilessly for the rest of his life, and also he really loves his job, and his friends, and—yeah, quitting to become a teacher just because Eddie might fall in love with him then is definitely a dumb idea.

So Buck is just going to pine for the rest of his life. That's fine. He got over Abby and he got over Ali and he got over the dozen other people who didn't want to have a relationship with him. He can get over Eddie too. It's just... taking longer than planned. Mostly because Eddie is still his best friend and Buck is still over at the Diaz house all the time and every time it feels like a little piece of the life he can't quite have.

(He falls asleep with Eddie on the couch one night and only half wakes up when Eddie shakes his shoulder hours later and says, "Hey, come on, come to bed. No, not the couch, it's too late, I can't be bothered making it up, just come to bed with me."

Buck wakes up the next morning with his face against Eddie's shoulder, his arm over Eddie's waist, and his chest aching for what life could be like.)

Eddie and James are together for just over six months. Six long, torturous months—at least they are to Buck. About four months in, he gets drunk with Maddie and Chimney one night and spills his guts about all the feelings he's not allowed to have. After that, Chimney keeps giving him sympathetic looks at work and at group gatherings and Buck wishes he would just—stop. Ignoring his feelings was a lot easier when he could pretend nobody else was aware of them.

When Eddie and James break up, Buck doesn't hear about it for almost a week. He's out sick for three days and then work is crazy and then—

Then he's standing in Eddie's kitchen feeling like the world's worst best friend because—has Eddie been sad? Has there been some clue that Buck missed?

"I'm okay," Eddie tells him. "Really. It was mutual."

Buck still feels like an asshole. "You could have told me. I would have... I don't know, I would have been there for you."

"You were sick."

"Still," Buck insists. "You've got my back, I've got yours. That's not just at work, right? I'm always here for you."

Eddie smiles. It's the soft, makes-Buck's-insides-fuzzy smile he gets sometimes. Usually when he thinks Buck isn't looking. It's a little dizzying to be faced with it head on.

"I know," Eddie says, something so sincere in his tone that it sounds like—

Well. Maybe Buck is just projecting. Maybe it doesn't actually sound like I love you too.

It's another two months before they're back in the kitchen—and what is it with kitchens? seriously, they're like liminal spaces designed to encourage emotional conversations even if you're not ready to have them—and Buck is making coffee while Eddie frowns over bills at the kitchen table. Or, he was frowning, but when Buck turns around and sets a mug in front of him, he finds Eddie looking at him with another soft expression on his face.

"What?" Buck asks, inexplicably self-conscious.

Eddie shakes his head, as if to say nothing, but when he opens his mouth, the words that come out are—"Can I tell you a secret?"

"Sure." Buck grins. "I love secrets. And you know that unlike Chimney, I'll keep them."

Eddie rolls his eyes. "I'm being serious."

Buck sits down, their legs bumping under the table. They could sit further apart, but—well.

"What's your secret, Eds?"

And Buck has imagined this conversation, okay, he has run through a hundred different scenarios, a hundred different daydreams about how this happens. But not a single one has had Eddie reach across the table and take his hand and say—

"I know."

Buck licks his lips, anxiety a sudden flutter in his chest. "Know what?"

"Buck." Eyebrows slightly arched, as if to say seriously? you're going to pretend now? "I know you're in love with me. I've—I've known for a while, actually."

Because Buck is about as subtle as a bull in a china shop. Right. He tries to pull his hand back, tries to shut down the emotions bubbling inside of him, threatening to well up and spill out everywhere. But Eddie doesn't let him go.

"It's okay," he says. "And I know I should have told you sooner, but..." Suddenly Eddie is the one who looks nervous. "I think I'm in love with you too."

It turns out that happiness can make your chest ache just as fiercely as heartbreak. It's a feeling Buck wouldn't trade for anything in the world.

Their first kiss tastes like coffee.

It's just as perfect as every single kiss after that.

Maybe a little more perfect, even, because it's the one that makes Buck realise that the life he has been craving with his best friend isn't actually out of reach. In fact, it is here to stay.

Send me two (2) tropes from this list + a ship and I’ll describe how I’d combine them in the same story.

[sundaysundaes]

Whispers

Lee Donghyuck/Haechan X Reader | Smut, Fluff | 5k | Idol AU

Summary: Donghyuck has been busy promoting his new album and no matter how much he misses you, he can’t see you in person due to his schedules. Desperate for your touch, he begins to call you late at night.

Warnings: Phone sex, masturbation (male and female), dirty talk (but is it still called ‘dirty talk’ if Donghyuck is just being honest and saying whatever that comes to his mind?), no plot with a lot of dialogues

The vibration of your iPhone wakes you up from your dream. Being thrown back so suddenly to reality makes you feel slightly lightheaded but it’s all worth it the second you see his name written on your screen. Rubbing your eyes away from sleep, you answer his call, “Hyuck?”

“Hey, Noona.” The airiness of his honeyed voice sounds familiar and pleasant in your ears that it instantly paints a smile on your face. “Did I wake you?”

You refrain yourself from yawning. “Yeah, I fell asleep reading.” Narrowing your eyes irritatedly at the brightness of the fluorescent light hanging on your ceiling, you decide to switch it off and uses the dim glow of the bedside lamp instead.

“What time is it?” He gasps when he notices the time on his screen. “Three AM?! Shit, I didn’t realize it was this late. Sorry.” 

“It’s fine, I shouldn’t be sleeping anyway. I still have to work on my papers, so it’s actually good that you woke me up.” You nuzzle close to the pillow, holding your phone to your ear with one hand, blinking sleepily. “Did you just get back from schedule?”

“Yeah.” He sighs wearily. “I’m dead tired right now. I wish I could just take a day off, you know? I mean, performing is fun, but promoting a new album can be so hectic. I’ve only been sleeping for, like, two hours per day since last week.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” You bring the teddy bear he’d given you on your birthday close to your chest, pretending like you were embracing him. “I wish you could take some days off, too.”

“Yeah?” Somehow, he sounds like he’s smiling. “Then do what?”

“I don’t know, play games, I guess? Or just lie around in bed, doing nothing.”

“I’d rather be doing something, actually.” He chuckles softly, a hint of teasing in his voice. “Or someone.” 

“Gross,” you retort but you can feel your lips curving upwards. “It’s okay if you want to rest, Hyuck. You don’t have to force yourself to call me every day. Your health should be your number one priority.”

“What, you don’t want me to call you?”

You freeze. “Of course I want you to call me. I just—”

“I thought you’d be excited to hear my voice.”

The sudden bitterness in his tone makes you sit up from the bed, eyebrows adjoined in confusion. “What—Hyuck—”

“You know what?” He exhales loudly. “You’re right, I shouldn’t have called. It’s late anyway.“

“Can you please just listen—”

“I’m tired. Let’s just talk tomorrow.”

“But—”

“I’m hanging up.”

“Hyuck—” But you’re only answered by silence when the line gets disconnected. You stare at your phone, eyes wide in disbelief. 

What the hell just happened?

Upset and vexed, you dial his number. You wait with your jaw clenched until he picks up on the fourth ring. “Can’t you listen to me for one second?!” Not sure if it’s because of the drowsiness or exhaustion, but you find yourself shouting even before he says anything. “Of course, I want you to call me, you idiot! It’s the only thing I’ve been waiting all day. Every day, Hyuck, I wait for your call every day. I keep catching myself checking on my phone every ten minutes, waiting for your texts, wanting to call you. I miss you, of course, I miss you—you’re—” You turn stiff when you hear him cackling from the other side of the phone. “Are you laughing?”

“I’m sorry.” His laughter is contagious but you put up your best effort not to get infected. “You’re so cute when you get all riled up. Isn’t it obvious that I was just joking?”

“Right. I’m hanging up.” 

“Wait, Noona—” You listen to him with your eyes throwing ice daggers to the wall. “I’m sorry. I won’t do it again, I promise.” There’s a small pause where you’re too irritated to talk and he’s too unsure to start but he tries. “So, like… you miss me?”

“Not right now.”

“Aaw, come on, I was just messing around.” You can imagine him puckering his lips, batting his eyelashes for forgiveness. “Please, tell me. Tell me how much you miss me.”

You throw yourself back to the bed, huffing. “I don’t think I want to.”

“You get cuter when you’re angry, you know that?” He sighs to the air. “Aaah… I miss you. I miss you so much, Noona, you don’t even know. Probably more than you miss me.”

I don’t think that’s possible. “Of course,” you reply, holding back a smile from breaking on your face. “Since I only miss you a little bit.”

“A little bit?”

“A tiny, tiny bit. On second thought, maybe I don’t miss you at all.”

“Is that so?” You can tell he’s exhausted by the way he lets out his chuckle, but it doesn’t mean it’s less sincere. “It really has been a while since we last saw each other, hasn’t it?”

You nod to yourself. “Four months.”

“You keep count, huh?” His teasing tone makes you flushed. “Love me that much, do you?”

“Around four months,” you correct him, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible when the truth is, you can practically hear your heart hammering against your ribcages. “Or maybe three? Five? I don’t know.”

“Why are you so cute? Seriously, how can you be this cute?” Donghyuck sits on the edge of his bed, lips forming so widely that it nearly splits his face in half. When his chuckles have receded, his eyes begin to soften. “I love you, Noona. You know that, right?”

People might be thinking about how lucky you are to have a member of one of the most prestigious boybands in the world confessing his love for you at 3 AM, but honestly? You’re just so grateful for the fact that Lee Donghyuck, a boy who stole your heart nearly a decade ago when you were too young to even understand the word love, finally realized that your entire relationship with him was deeper than a mere friendship. It took years for both of you to finally gain enough bravery to act out your feelings, especially when he managed to shine brighter than you could ever imagine being. You were afraid of it—afraid that you would be burnt by his fame, afraid that he would discard you for he had everything and you only had him. But Donghyuck didn’t want anything. He only wanted you.

You love him. You’ve been loving him for as long as you can remember so hearing him say the words, no matter how often he has mentioned it already, still sparks fire through your veins. You’ll never admit that out loud, though.

“I’ve been thinking about you a lot these days,” he sheepishly adds. 

“More than you think about yourself?” You snort. “I’m shocked.”

“Eeyyy, I’m serious.” The sound of your giggle makes him sigh, longing to hear it in person. “I wish I could be with you right now. I thought about you a lot during today’s photoshoot too.” He lies down on the bed, running a hand through his hair. “I thought about our last date. About that red dress you wore. Man, you looked so cute in that dress.”

You half-buried your face in the pillow, heat blossoming on your cheeks. “Now this is the topic I like to talk about.”

Donghyuck scrunches up his nose. “Aren’t you gonna say I looked nice too that day?”

Even the slightest thought of him—any version of him, whether it was him dressing handsomely on a date or him waking up in the morning with a bird’s nest on his head—never fails to send butterflies swirling in your stomach, but again, you’ll never admit that out loud. “Meh,” you jeer, even adding a shrug when you know he won’t be able to see. “Could’ve dressed better. I mean, ripped jeans? Really?”

“Yah, yah, yah. You said I looked good wearing those jeans!”

“We were going to a fancy restaurant and I wore a semi-formal dress, Hyuck. They just didn’t match my outfit. They didn’t match anyone’s outfit there, really.”

“Really? You’re gonna say that? Even after you spent the whole night stealing glances at me with drool on your face?”

You wish you could say he was lying, but you indeed spent the entire night drooling at him over the sight of his black leather jacket and the way his jeans just wrapped his thighs so perfectly. “I have lost interest in this topic.” It’s for the best before you combust into flames. “Where are you right now?”

“Back at the dorm.” He softly yawns. “In my room.”

“Alone?”

“Yep, since Johnny-hyung is filming out of town.” When you stay quiet, unsure of what to say, Donghyuck grins mischievously. “Why, do you wanna sneak in? I think I can afford to lose some sleep tonight, if you know what I mean.”

Flustered, you retort, “After Johnny caught us cuddling last time? No way.”

“Yeah, about that,” Donghyuck says a little awkwardly, “After you went home he said to me that he heard the whole thing—”

“What do you mean the whole thing?” The horror in your face and your voice is clear.

“I meant, the whole thing. Us having sex and stuff.”

You could practically feel the exact moment when your soul is leaving your body, but Donghyuck continues as if he’s simply talking about getting caught cheating during a test. “But it’s okay, he’s cool. He’s got my back.”

“Oh my God.” You nearly faint. “I will never show my face in front of your roommate, ever again.”

“Yeah, about that—“

“Are you fucking kidding me, Hyuck—”

“Jaehyun-hyung heard us too.”

“What?!”

“And he told Mark-hyung about it later on, and that’s the reason why I had this bump on my head for three days.” Donghyuck pouts, rubbing the back of his head, lean fingers carding through soft brown locks. “He hit me with a book, lecturing me about bringing you to the dorm as if he never did that himself.”

Not trying to overreact about it, but you’re suffocating by this point. “Why are you so chill about this?!”

“They heard us having sex, not murdering the innocents.” He rolls his eyes but seems amused at your reaction. “To be honest, I hear a lot of stuff happening in our dorm that I’m sure you don’t wanna know. Like, a lot a lot. Way worse than what I did with you.”

“And does Taeyong know about this?”

“Taeyong-hyung needs his beauty sleep so we agreed not to tell him stuff.”

“I feel sorry for him.”

“I just feel sorry he’s not part of our antics.” Donghyuck shrugs, kicking off his shoes and socks before he leans against the headboard. “How about you? Are you alone?”

“Yeah.” You heavily sigh, still feeling quite dizzy after hearing the truth he just blurted out. “My roommate’s gone for the weekend.”

“Oh…” He taps his fingers against his stomach, a weird feeling swirling inside his chest as a thought begins to form. “That’s… great…”

Donghyuck’s tongue lays heavy in his mouth, suddenly loses the ability to form a simple conversation as his mind begins to focus entirely on something else. It all started that one night when he pretended to be asleep, when in fact, he was listening to his roommate, Johnny, speaking to his girlfriend in hushed whispers. The way the older man was chuckling to his phone was suspicious, and the more he tried to listen intently, the more he realized that Johnny wasn’t conversing. He was giving orders with a voice thick with seduction. The sensual words Johnny used made Donghyuck’s ears turn scarlet, and he buried his face deeper behind his blanket. Since then, the curiosity within him has been rising more and more, nearly suffocating him sometimes when he desperately yearned for your touch but his schedule never let him take a goddamn break.

Not knowing the dirty thoughts that flit across his mind, you carry on your conversation like usual. “I guess, but it does get lonely sometimes when she’s not around. I actually like having a roommate.” The sandalwood aroma from your diffuser, combined with his velvety voice, comforts you and you’re finally able to relax. “Have you been eating well? I’ve been craving for strawberry—” 

“What are you wearing?”

“—pancakes—what?”

“I…” Donghyuck heaves out a heavy breath, biting the corner of his lip, unsure yet not ready to give up on his desire. “I just… I was wondering—Are you wearing pajamas?”

“Umm…” The way he asks about it sends heat rising to your cheeks. He doesn’t sound as innocent as the words he uses. You look down, fingers curling at the hemline of your clothes. “I’m wearing one of your shirts, actually.”

Donghyuck throws his head back, eyes tightly shut as he curses silently into the air, his phone pressed against his chest. The sight of you wearing his oversized shirt has been one of his most recurring fantasies and not being able to see you, but knowing that you are wearing his shirt, kills him. 

“Hyuck?”

Donghyuck brings his phone back to his ear. “Sorry, there was a… Mark.” He mentally slaps himself on the head. 

“There was a Mark?”

“I mean, Mark-hyung was here—but he just left so—" 

“Are you drunk again?”

“No!” Donghyuck rubs his temple. This is not going well, he shouts in his mind. “Why—” He winces when he hears his voice crack. Clearing his throat, he tries again. “Why are you wearing my shirt?”

Because it smells like you and it helps me sleep better. “Just because,” you quietly mumble, eyes locked to the ceiling. “Why are you asking me this exactly?”

“Just because,” he mimics. His breathing sounds more prominent as if he’s in the same room, only a few inches away from your ear. It’s the reason why you enjoy talking to him this way instead of taking video calls. You can focus solely on his honeyed voice, almost like a lullaby to your ears. “Can you tell me…” he continues, laced with both hesitation and anticipation, “What else you're wearing?”

“Umm…” You take a deep breath, trying to keep yourself composed. “I don’t think I want to say.”

“Please, Noona.” The sudden desperation in his plead startles you as if he’s losing control of himself, little by little. He seems to notice that too because when he speaks again, it’s steadier, almost formal. “I just… I want to know. If that’s okay.”

“Well…” You curl your toes. “Aside from your shirt, I’m…” Just say it, for God’s sake. He’s your boyfriend. He’s seen you naked. “I’m only wearing my panties.”

There’s a pause that makes your heart thump. “Not, uhh…” Donghyuck wets his lip. “Not even a bra?”

You fiddle with your fingers. “N-no.”

“Fuck.”

You nearly drop your phone. The guttural groan he just emitted from the back of his throat catches you off guard. “Hyuck..?”

“Noona, there’s—” Donghyuck sits up straight, nails nearly sinking to his jean-clad thigh. “There’s something I want to try.” There’s a sense of urgency mixed with minimum self-control. “I-if you don’t mind…”

You know where this is going. “What is it?”

“Just—Just follow my lead, okay?”

You shakily nod your head. When he calls out your name again, you remember that you have to say it in words. “Okay.”

“Can you…” Donghyuck’s heart is beating out of control.  His mind desperately tries to answer how the fuck do I start this?! “Can you, umm, lie down on the bed for me?”

You can tell he’s nervous and it’s both reassuring and endearing to know that he’s never done this with anyone else before and probably not mentally ready to do it with you, but tries to go all the way because he knows both of you need to find a way to release all of these pent-up emotions. 

You follow his order. “I’m…” You take a deep breath so your voice won’t tremble too much. “I’m lying on my bed.”

Donghyuck always takes a few seconds before answering, as if he’s battling inside his head as he tries to sort out his thoughts. “Is your light turned on?”

“Yes.”

“Turn it off.”

You switch off the button on your bedside lamp. “Okay, it’s off.”

“Okay, mine too.” Then all you can hear is his slightly ragged breathing. “It’s… a bit awkward, isn’t it?” He chuckles nervously, followed by an inaudible, “Fuck, why am I so nervous,” as he’s straying away from the phone. 

A smile paints your lips. “You’re adorable.”

“What?”

“Nothing.” 

When silence strikes, Donghyuck scratches his cheek. “Do you… want to know what I’m wearing?”

You gulp. “S-sure.”

“Well…” Donghyuck takes a look at himself. “I’m wearing a denim jacket, a white shirt, a pair of jeans—I just got back from a photoshoot so—”

So he must look good. “Take them off.”

He’s probably as startled as you are when you hear the words tumbling down your mouth. But even if he is as embarrassed as you are, he doesn’t make it as obvious. “Sure.” A rustling sound can be heard, and you let your imagination wander. You can tell he’s taking off his jacket and soon, his shirt will follow. Donghyuck would always take his shirt off by grabbing the fabric from the back and yank it over his head, instead of crossing his arms at his waist. There’s something masculine about it, but you tend to get more distracted at the way his muscles would contract in his lean stomach. His silver necklace would dangle around his neck, and he’d smirk whenever he caught you staring at him for a second too long. 

“My shirt’s off,” he quietly states, snapping you out of your reverie. “Now take yours off—wait! Wait. Leave it on. I want to imagine you wearing my shirt. Just take off your panties.”

“I’m—” It’s so damn hard to focus when you feel so ashamed just by hearing his instructions. “Okay…” Your fingers are quivering when they slide down your stomach, thumb hooking around the hem before you pull your lingerie down to the middle of your thighs.

“Lie down,” he whispers, “Prop a pillow behind your back. Are you comfortable?”

“Y-yeah, just…” You sigh, head going dizzy. “Embarrassed.”

The airy laughter that flows from his mouth is too innocent to be heard in this kind of situation. “So cute. Me too, actually. I’ve never done this before.” When his chuckles have receded, the nervousness grows vivid in his voice once again. “Do you, umm... Do you want to stop?”

You’re supposed to say yes, or at least a bit conflicted about it, so it shocks you when you immediately answer, “No,” without hesitation.

“Thank God.” Donghyuck sighs, smiling softly against the phone. “‘Cause I wouldn’t know what to do if you said yes.” He unbuckles his belt with one hand, taking it off as his heartbeat soars through the roof. “Then, umm… can you spread your legs? As wide as you can.”

You feel so exposed even when no one is looking. Following his guidance, you question, “What about you? What are you doing?”

“I’m…” Donghyuck swallows hard, looking down at the way his hand is pressing against his semi-hardness. “I’m rubbing myself over my pants.”

Fuck, you mentally groan. “Why aren’t you touching yourself directly?”

“Cause I want to wait for you.” He has his eyes closed, hand slipping under the hemline of his jeans, stroking himself over his boxer. “I want to picture you rubbing your fingers on your clit. I want to hear you moan my name when you do.”

Oh my God. “Then guide me,” you plead. There’s something so irresistibly sexy about him touching himself while picturing you pleasuring yourself with your fingers. “Tell me what to do, Hyuck.”

He runs his tongue over his lower lip. The excitement of being able to act as a puppeteer, tugging on your strings, sends all blood rushing south. “Can you push your shirt up? Don’t take it off, just—” He exhales, taking a moment to collect himself after a certain obscene thought of you touching yourself entered his mind. “Just make sure it’s not in the way.”

“Okay.” You grip the hemline of your shirt, pulling it up until it pools above your chest. “Now, what?” 

“I want you to touch your breasts.” You’re more aroused by his breathy voice and lustful tone than embarrassed at this point. “Imagine me, Noona,” Donghyuck whispers, and he sounds so close, as if he’s lying down next to you. “Imagine me with my hands on you, caressing your breasts. Can you do that?”

You squeeze your breast, mumbling out a weak, “Yes…” The memory of Donghyuck, embracing you from behind, his naked chest pressed against your spine, hot mouth lazily pressing wet kisses against your nape suddenly comes alive in your mind. You still remember how sexy he sounded moaning out your name as he rocked his hips forward, his fingers exploring around your chest, rubbing and pinching at a certain spot to make you press closer to him in desperation for more of his touch. 

“Suck on your fingers, make them wet, then bring them back down.” Donghyuck’s hips are bucking against his hand, his fingers tugging his zipper down. “Imagine my mouth latching on your nipple, sucking it the way I always do. The way you like me to do.” 

You bring your fingers to your mouth, coating two of them with saliva before you bring them back down to pinch your sensitive bud. With your eyes closed and his heavy breathing in your ear, the wet sensation of your fingers gives you a clear image of his tongue flicking against your nub. 

“Tell me how you feel.”

“It’s not enough,” you croak out, “I want to feel you directly on my skin.”

Donghyuck takes a sharp breath. “You don’t even know how much I want to be there and touch you.” The way his voice suddenly becomes deep sends shivers down your spine. “I want to suck bruises on your skin. I want to mark you everywhere, again and again, so the bruises will last for days. I want you to remember me every time you see yourself in the mirror.”

You sheepishly smile, though your heart is still racing. “I always remember you even without that, Haechannie.”

The sudden change of his name warms his heart. “I wish you’re the only one who calls me that. You make my stage name sounds better, special. I could have thousands of people screaming my name but none of them makes me feel the way you do.” As he slides his hand under his boxer, finally making direct contact with his skin, Donghyuck becomes desperate once again. “Bring your other hand down. I want you to touch yourself, Noona, please.”

You slide your hand between your legs, tentatively rubbing yourself between your folds. “Hyuck…”

“Does it feel good?”

You nod, eyes shut, and your mind wanders. “Yes…”

“Rub your clit for me. And imagine I’m doing that with my tongue.”

You can picture him with his head between your legs so perfectly behind your closed eyelids. He has done it several times and you remember how he would always start slow, placing open-mouthed kisses on the inner part of your thigh before dipping his head down and swipe his tongue along your folds—all the while never breaking eye-contact. He would press a kiss against your clit, and lick you slowly because he’d want you to beg for it. He never directly told you but you could tell he liked being in control because the second you whispered “Please, Hyuck,” he would immediately indulge you with everything you wanted and more. 

Donghyuck would suck hard on your clit, doing it so suddenly that you’d nearly crush him by wrapping your legs too tightly around his head. Amazed and delighted by your reaction, he would break into a smile with his tongue still darting out to taste you, mouth pressing harder against your skin until he plunged his tongue inside your heat.

You moan out his name at the memory, directly to the phone.

“Fuck, baby, you sound so perfect…” Donghyuck nearly whimpers and the word baby stirs something within you as he never called you that before.

“Call me like that again…” You rub yourself harder on the spot you like the most. “Please, Hyuck…”

“Baby…” Donghyuck’s fingers are curling harder around his length, pumping himself in accordance to every gasp and moan you’re emitting. “I wish I could see you—I wish I could lock my eyes with yours as I eat you up. I want to see your face, every single expression you make—I bet you look so cute, so goddamn... erotic.”

Your hold around your phone loosens but fortunately for you, the pillow pressing against it keeps it close to your ear. “Touch yourself,” you breathily murmurs, “I want you to touch yourself too.”

“I am, baby,” Donghyuck softly moans, his fingers tightening around his length. “What else do you want me to do?”

“I want you to stroke yourself harder and run your thumb over your slit.” Donghyuck zealously follows, cursing under his breath at the pleasure. “And I want you to keep doing it until my name escapes your lips.”

“God, I want you.” He repeats your name over and over again, as ordered, with him stroking himself faster each time. “Noona, I want your mouth on me. I want to see you hollow your cheeks around me—like how you did to me when we were backstage, that time after the concert. You looked so pretty that night, so eager—so desperate for me—”

“Me too. I want to make you feel good too. I—” You nip at your bottom lip, feeling goosebumps creeping up your skin when he moans out your name. You’ve always loved his voice, loved it more than anything else in the world, and the sounds he makes when he’s in bed with you is the sexiest thing that even your poor mind can’t even begin to imagine. And now, focusing solely on his voice, listening to his filthy, sinful words, he’s driving you to the edge of your sanity.

“I’ve touched myself before at the thought of you,” he confesses breathlessly, “Several times, even way before we started dating.”

You’re trembling at the thought. “Haechannie—”

“You don’t know just how much—” The sound of him trying to stifle down a moan only makes you crave for him more. “—how much I wanted you back then. How much I want you now. Even during high school, I just—I wanted you—wanted to touch you—wanted—ah fuck,” a whine slipped out his lips, “Wanted to hold you so bad, to make love to you until—”

At the rustling sounds, him whimpering at his touches, and you rubbing yourself on the perfect spot, you know you won’t last long. “H-Hyuck, are you close?”

“Just a little bit more, Noona, ah—” He thrashes his head against the pillow, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down as he swallows hard. “Fuck, I need to be inside you. I need to feel you clenching your walls around me.” At the memory of you gazing at him with anticipation building inside your seductive, half-lidded eyes, as you parted your legs to give him permission to ravish you the way he wanted, Donghyuck quickens the pace, thrusting vigorously into his hand. “Fuck yourself with your fingers, baby, please.”

You’re more than keen to follow, inserting one digit inside your heat with another one following soon after. You can visualize him bringing your legs in the air until they dangle over his shoulders, his hips slamming hard against yours with each thrust. “Hyuck—”

“If you were here right now,” he nearly growls, “I would fuck you so hard until you’re mewling my name against the sheets. And I won’t stop, I won’t stop even if you beg me to. I won’t stop until I’m done with you.”

Donghyuck doesn’t sound like he’s trying to dirty talk which only makes it even more arousing to your ear. It’s as if he’s losing control of his mouth, just saying anything that comes to mind. The honesty, the urgency, his breathy, desperate calls of your name between lewd words—

You choke out a sob. “Hyuck—I’m close—”

“Me too—N-noona—Kiss me—”

It’s one of the most intense orgasms you’ve ever felt and it’s funny because you never really enjoyed touching yourself before. Donghyuck follows a few seconds after, moaning your name so erotically that will probably give you a hard time falling asleep for days at the thought of it. You’re left dazed, staring at the ceiling with half-lidded eyes. Your phone lays forgotten on the pillow next to you. Mustering all the strength you have left, you reach out for it. “Hyuck…?”

You can hear him breathing heavily. “I’m here,” he says. “Are you okay? Did you get to come?”

“Y-yes.” Now that it’s over, you begin to feel self-conscious again and the heat that blooms on your cheeks nearly wash every bit of your orgasm away in an instant. “Did you?”

“I made a huge mess.” He chuckles, sounding just as embarrassed as you are. “Fuck, didn’t realize it was going to be this good when we started. What would’ve happened if we had Face-Timed each other instead?”

Your head nearly explodes at the thought. “One step at a time, Hyuck. I’m practically dying from shame right now.”

He laughs a little at that. “So, you don’t really oppose the idea? Man, I have something to look forward to then.”

“Shut up, you’re gross. Is this the reason you called me?”

“No,” he hastily says, “I swear, I called because I missed hearing your voice.” Then he thinks about it again. “Well, I mean, I have been thinking about doing, uhh, these kinds of things with you but trust me, it wasn’t the reason why I called.”

“Sure,” you flatly reply, teasing him.

“Yah, yah, yah, it’s your fault for saying that you were wearing nothing but my shirt!”

“It’s your fault for asking me what I was wearing!”

It’s always like this with him. You’re bickering at one point, having sex at another time, then goes back to bickering once again. But it’s endearing, you suppose, because after this, you’ll be murmuring loving words, and just when you begin to think about it, Donghyuck whispers into the phone.

“I love you, Noona. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

And you smile. “I love you too, Haechannie. You’re the second best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

“What the hell is the first one?”

“Chicken nuggets.”

“You’re so dead.”

***

[possiamo-andare]

Just You (3)

JJ x Reader x Rafe (love triangle)

MASTERLIST

word count: 5k

a/n: I can't believe it's been eight months since I updated this fic. y'all are probably dead by now and this will prolly get no notes lmao but I finally wrote the next chapter and it's so good in my opinion so please don't be too mad. enjoy!

~

Y/N needed complete silence when she was reading. If she didn’t, it was almost impossible for her to even read one page. As a child, in a room full of other screaming children, Y/N found it almost impossible to read. Most of her teachers misread this difficulty with an inability to read, which was not the case. This miscommunication actually worked in Y/N’s favour because the extra attention resulted in a greater love for reading. Y/N soon found herself reading everyday and even found it hard to put down a book. When she couldn’t get a physical copy of a book, she then went online and delved into a world where people created their own worlds and fantasies for their readers. Reading had become one of Y/N’s favourite hobbies and she could do it for hours.

Unfortunately, tonight was different. At around 6pm, just as Y/N picked up a book to read, loud music began to play from a distance. At first, Y/N tried to ignore it but soon, like mentioned before, the music began to get louder, and Y/N could not focus on the words before her. The more she tried to focus, the more distracted she became by the music. Soon, she could focus on nothing but the blaring music coming from across the street. Finally, after ten minutes of pure agony, Y/N got up from her bed and stormed down the stairs of her home. Her face is red with anger, and she desperately wants to know who the hell thinks playing loud music on a Tuesday night is acceptable. Unfortunately, she knows the answer the second she enters her kitchen.

Her parents are laughing with each other as they make their favourite snack. Every night, her parents make their favourite foods together as a way to unwind and talk about their day. Sometimes they shared it with Y/N and her siblings but on nights where her siblings were out with their friends and Y/N was the only one home, they usually just spent time with each other. Y/N hesitated for a moment and smiled to herself, thinking about how sweet her parents truly are. She wonders if the person she marries will have this type of relationship with her. She wonders, years from now, how she will look back on her time in OBX. She hopes she looks back with fondness. The moment is ruined though because her mother quickly looks up from the stove, a toothy grin on her face.

“Hello darling.” Y/N’s mother chirps. She reads her daughter's distraught face and since she can hear the music too, she knows why her daughter is upset. Without even letting Y/N speak, she answers the question clearly in her daughter's mind. “Ward Cameron’s son, Rafe, is throwing a party across the street. You can go if you want.”

Y/N snorts. “That boy has been rudely staring at me since we got here, and you think I should go to his house?”

This time, Y/N’s father turns around from the cabinet. “I hear JJ’s gonna be there.” There’s a small smirk on his face and it instantly grabs Y/N’s attention.

She tried to brush it off. “Well, I don’t really like loud music.”

Y/N’s mother scoffs. “Yes, you do.”

Y/N nods, tucking her hair behind her ears. She knows that if there’s even a hint of JJ being at the party, she wants to go. “You’re right, I do.”

Y/N had not been to a party in years. The last time she had it was in her first year of high school. She had just moved to that new school only weeks before and had made only a couple of friends. The friends she did make were nice and invited her to a party. The party was okay, and she enjoyed herself, but she was very awkward because she barely knew anyone. She promised that from now on, she would only go to parties where she knew more than one person. Now, she found herself breaking that rule just to see JJ.

Since Y/N was in her pajamas, she ran back up to her room to change. She didn’t want to waste too much time picking out clothes to wear so she quickly looked through her closet and found a white sundress with small blue flowers decorating the material. She had never worn this dress and, when she first bought it, was unsure if she liked it because it was shorter than what she was used to but now, she was glad she did.

She lay her sundress on her bed for a moment and turned to her mirror, where she kept a cabinet full of makeup. Before she even put on any makeup, she looked back up in the mirror for the second time. As she finally had a chance to breathe, she realized her breath was unsteady and her hands were shaking. It was hard for Y/N to put herself out there. Most times, she was afraid of the rejection, or even at the fact that the friends she did have would be gone. But she remembered her parents' words. She was to stay in OBX for the rest of the year. She would make friends here. She would have a life here. With a deep breath, Y/N began to get ready for the night.

~

Y/N keeps fidgeting with her hair. She knows the more she fidgets, the more upset she’ll be with how she looks but she seriously can’t help it. She only does this when she’s extremely nervous and she knows why. She’s two feet away from Rafe’s front door and the music has somehow gotten louder. It’s almost as if he’s continuously trying to play the music louder to get her attention. Of course, she knows that to not be true, but still, Y/N had realized that in the last twenty minutes since she had decided to get ready for the party and walked across the street, the music had indeed gotten louder. She rolled her eyes as she approached the door, the loud music getting annoying. At this rate, Rafe Cameron would be deaf by the time he was 30. Y/N pretended not to care if he went deaf at all, but a tiny voice inside her head told her that she had to care for him because no one else would.

With a deep breath, she knocks on the door. She doesn’t think anyone would hear it because of how loud the music is but it’s worth a try. She was raised to have manners and would not just enter someone’s house before knocking.

To her surprise, only a few moments later, the doorknob twisted quickly and someone on the other end of the door opened it. It was as if someone had been patiently waiting by the door all night, opening it in hopes that she would come. Of course, she knew this to not be true because the person who greeted her was none other than Rafe Cameron. And he found her annoying.

Y/N couldn’t help but admit how delicious he looked. He wasn’t dressed in his usual preppy attire, no. He wore these ripped, distressed black jeans and a fitted white shirt with a baseball cap to match. It wasn’t necessarily his style that had him looking so delightful but his face. He seemed very relaxed. In fact, this was the most relaxed she’d ever seen him. His usual straight posture was now more curled and casual. His face, which had always been pale and gray, was now filled with colour. He wore a cute blush across his cheeks and nose, and on top of the blush was a patch of light brown freckles here and there. Y/N figured he must’ve been in the sun all day. That and he was also high out of his mind.

“Y/N…” He trailed, his eyes glancing at her dress momentarily before returning to her face. Y/N feels a little self conscious under his gaze. She wasn’t exactly confident in her outfit tonight and he seemed, for the first time in forever, more confident than her. “You, um, you’re - you’re very…”

She involuntarily snickers, not realizing she’s doing it until Rafe hears it. His face changes into a dark frown and she has a deep need to apologize. He was probably just trying to be polite, and Y/N must’ve caught him just as his high was reaching its climax. “I’m what exactly?”

Rafe rolls his eyes, knowing that she’s teasing him. “You’re not invited.”

Well, she can’t say she exactly feels welcome right now, standing at the threshold of his door. He still hasn’t even let her in.

Y/N scoffs, her feelings only hurt a little. Although he didn’t look preppy, he looked just as douchy. “Well, your music’s so loud it could wake the dead. Maybe if you didn’t want uninvited people to come, don’t make it so obvious that you’re having a party.”

Rafe scoffs this time. “Aw, I’m sorry. Did I interrupt your bedtime?” He takes a swig of his beer bottle and Y/N almost forgets that he’s obviously been drinking. “Were you having a little read before you went to bed? Lemme guess; you were re-reading the Vagina Diaries for the tenth time?”

Y/N’s chest twinges with pain just a little, knowing that the book was on her bookshelf with a worn-out spine. He seemed to know her very well, but it only angered her because he got the answer right. “It’s actually Vagina Monologues, but nice try. I guess for someone who hasn’t opened a book in their life, the Vagina Monologues would be interesting.”

Rafe chuckles and she has a small urge to kiss the corners of his smile. Thankfully, once she swallows harshly, the urge disappears. “Just come in and don’t put your hippie feet anywhere near my furniture.” He finally steps aside, and Y/N takes that as the kindest invitation she’s gonna get from him.

“You mean, your parents' furniture.” She puts one foot in front of the other and tries to remember how to walk. Although it may not seem like it, she’s nervous. She’s not too good with crowds. As she passes Rafe, she can smell his cologne and she feel as though she might faint. For such an annoying boy, he really was intoxicating.

Rafe is not given enough time to throw a snide remark back in her face because someone has entered Y/N and Rafe’s little bubble. It’s another very handsome boy but this time, he’s sweet. He’s wearing preppy clothes (cargo shorts and a pink polo shirt - big shocker there) but he’s not preppy at all when he introduces himself.

“Hey! I’m Kelso; nice to meet ya!” He gives Y/N a half hug because his other hand is holding a beer, but she still gets the sentiment that he’s friendly. His hand respectfully lays on Y/N’s shoulder and Y/N actually hugs him back even though that’s not her thing with strangers.

“I’m Y/N, and it’s nice to meet you too!”

She watches as his brows go from a relaxed arch to a surprised arch instantly. It seems that whatever she has said has caught him by surprise. “Oh? You’re Y/N?” Kelso looks to Rafe for a moment, his eyes narrowing in amusement. Rafe tries to indirectly tell him to stop by flipping him off, but it only encourages Kelso. “I guess we have you to thank for this incredible party then!”

Y/N frowns, turning around to look at Rafe. They’re still in the entryway of his house and she hasn’t so much as taken in her surroundings, but this seems too important to ignore. What does Kelso mean? Did Rafe throw this party in hopes that she’d come? There was no way. Doesn’t Rafe find her completely annoying and obnoxious? If so, why would Kelso say such a thing?

“He’s joking right?” Y/N tries to confirm from Rafe but by his meek smile and his cheeks that have only gotten redder since she entered his home, she knows there’s some truth in what Kelso is saying.

Rafe shrugs, trying to come up with a lie. He had confided in Kelso as a way to relieve the stress that liking Y/N has caused but instead, Kelso just had to mess it up. “Well, not exactly.” His mouth is forming a lie before his brain can even properly think of one. “I mentioned to Kelso that you’ve probably never been to a party in OBX, so he must’ve thought I threw it for you.”

Y/N nods, confused as to why she feels a little sad. For some reason, a little part of her hoped that Rafe had thrown a party for her to notice him but alas, it had all been a misunderstanding. “Oh, well, okay.”

Except it wasn’t a misunderstanding at all. Rafe had told Kelso that the only reason he was throwing this party was for Y/N to notice him in a new light. He knew she thought he was just another annoying preppy Kook and he wanted to change that. He thought maybe, just maybe, if she had fun tonight with him, she’d finally start to see him as he truly was, a loveable dork. Unfortunately, that seems to be ruined now.

Before any more words can be exchanged, someone yells for Y/N. She instantly looks to the crowd of people in Rafe's backyard and sees JJ and Pope. The door to his backyard is open so the yelling is clear and not muddled by a barrier. They seemed to have been yelling for a while because they looked exasperated. Y/N watches as JJ stands from his lawn chair and motions for her to come sit beside them. She smiles for one of the first times tonight and nods, the pressure on her chest lifting when she sees her two friends. She wanted to take to Rafe later and get the full story because she had a feeling, he wasn’t telling her the complete truth, but she wanted to greet her friends first. She’d get to Rafe later. For now, she wanted to relax.

When Y/N departed from Rafe and Kelso, awkwardly waving goodbye before maneuvering to the back of Rafe’s house, Kelso spoke first.

“Dude, why didn’t you tell me she didn’t know this party was for her?”

Rafe glared at his friend. “You really think I’d tell her that. Now she probably thinks I’m even more creepy than before.”

Kelso rolls his eyes at how dramatic his friend was. “You didn’t see her reaction, bro. I don’t know if she even knows it herself, but she definitely likes you.”

Rafe rolls his eyes. He doesn’t allow for his hope to rise because he knows it’s not true. He can’t let himself have any more hope that the new girl in OBX would want to have anything to do with him. She can’t like him because no girl like her ever has. So, instead, he steals glances at her for the rest of the night and hopes to God he can get high enough to forget about the beautiful girl across the street.

~

Y/N tried to enjoy herself, she really did. And to JJ’s credit, he tried to help her relax and have some fun. She drank the beer that was offered to her, danced with JJ and Pope, and even took two puffs of JJ’s joint. But, although she felt thoroughly buzzed, Rafe never left her mind. She tried to throw a few sneaky glances his way the entire night, but she couldn’t find him. She even left her spot beside JJ and pretended to get a refill on his nasty beer just to see if she could spot Rafe. Unfortunately, he was nowhere to be seen. At first, she thought it was just because she wasn’t looking hard enough but soon, after three whole hours of not seeing Rafe even once, she realized he was avoiding her. And if he was avoiding her, it meant that he was embarrassed from their conversation at the beginning of the night. Which meant that he lied, and he had in fact thrown this party just for her.

This revelation crept into her mind slowly throughout the night but when it finally sunk in, she was speechless. She didn’t know how to react. Sure, there was a slim chance that he had been telling the truth but the less she saw of Rafe at his own party, the more she realized that he had lied to her.

JJ had noticed how off Y/N seemed. When they had seen each other earlier in the day for her surfing lessons, he had made a fool out of himself. They had been practising for a few hours before they both called it quits, deciding to pick it back up the next day. Before departing, JJ offered her ice cream for a hard day's work, and she gladly accepted. They both ordered the same flavour (mint chocolate chip - he swore they were soulmates because of this) and ate it as they talked. When they were both finally finished, Y/N went to hug him goodbye, but he instead extended his hand awkwardly for her to shake. She seemed slightly embarrassed, but he was even more so. He had wanted to hug her but didn’t want to without her permission, so he thought a handshake was the safe bet. Unfortunately, he thought wrong and now, that awkward interaction was burned into the back of his mind. He was worried that’s why Y/N seemed so detached, barely speaking. When she had gone to refill her cup, JJ looked to Pope for advice. He had never been so needy for a girl’s approval before and since Pope seemed to want everyone to like him, JJ thought he’d give the best advice.

“So,” JJ sighs and he finishes telling the story of their awkward interaction. “Do you think that’s why she’s been so quiet?”

Pope snorted. “JJ, I think it’s just you. I doubt she even remembers it.”

Although his friend tried his best to reassure JJ, he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was burdening Y/N’s mind. But, before JJ could continue his conversation with Pope, Y/N reappeared with a glass full of beer and a somber face. The topic was not brought up again.

JJ had been right though. Something was burdening Y/N’s mind. It’s not everyday that a girl finds out a boy who she thought saw her as a bothersome girl actually saw her as much more. It’s a difficult experience to relate to and not a problem Y/N thought she would have. Apparently, Rafe was better at hiding his true feelings than she thought. She had always assumed that when she’d catch him peeking through his window, watching her ride her bike with her brothers or bask in the sun as she read another book, he was judging her. She assumed he was making fun of her and her hippie family. And when they had first met in the main office of her school, it only solidified in her mind that he saw her as a joke. But instead, he might’ve actually liked her. You clearly only watch people in that way if you hate them or like them and since it clearly wasn’t hate…

No. She wouldn’t let her mind go there. Besides, even if he liked her, who was to say if she even liked him? He had been nothing but rude to her, even when he had technically invited her to this party. He called her a hippie (not offensive by itself but when Rafe said it, it might as well have been), watched her from his window with a scowl, and was a complete snob. If Y/N knew what was good for her, she’d stay far, far away from Rafe and anyone he associated with. But Y/N was a dumb teenage girl and curiosity got the better of her. She needed to find another good excuse to go inside and search one last time for Rafe.

The excuse presented itself when JJ made a small remark of how thirsty he was. Y/N jumped at the opportunity to refill his drink, even though he offered to go himself. But she insisted, taking his cup from his hands before he could argue any longer. As she made her way back inside, her eyes looking for the handsome brunette, Pope leaned closer to JJ.

“See? And you thought she didn’t like you?”

JJ nodded, feeling better about the whole ordeal. Unfortunately, if he knew why she truly had wanted to venture inside, it’s doubtful he would have felt better. He probably would’ve felt worse. But he didn’t know, and he wouldn’t know for a while longer.

Y/N first made her way to Rafe’s huge kitchen where all the kegs were lined up. Half of them were already empty but the night was coming to a close and soon, half the party would leave and only Rafe’s closest friends would stick around until 5am. It was midnight now and although she didn’t have a curfew, she wanted to be home by at least 1am. So, as she filled only JJ’s cup, she decided against filling her own. She didn’t want to be too tipsy in case she ran into Rafe. Although, by this time, she thought it was very unlikely that she’d ever see him.

Just as that thought crossed her mind though, another person entered the kitchen. Y/N recognized him immediately. It was Topper. They had never interacted much, just a brief wave whenever she’d pass his house when she rode her bike. If he was outside, which he had only been once or twice, he’d wave, and she’d wave back. Other than that, they never spoke. Until now.

He stood beside her, filling two glasses with beer. His blond hair was wet and sticking to his forehead, but his hands were so full, and he was so drunk he didn’t seem to notice. Y/N had seen Rafe’s pool, but she did not find herself on that side of his house for many reasons (the pool was on the other side of the backyard, she didn’t bring a bathing suit, and her mind was busy with more important matters). Topper seemed to be struggling with refilling two cups, his hands shaking just a little. Y/N instantly registered that he needed help and decided that busying herself with assisting Topper would help take her mind off Rafe.

“Here,” Y/N offered, setting JJ’s cup down on the counter. “Let me help.” She takes one of the glasses from Topper and begins to fill it up, all the while keeping an eye on Topper to make sure he doesn’t spill the other cup.

“Thanks.” He mumbles, swaying back and forth to the music that is blaring from somewhere inside Rafe’s house. Y/N can’t help but smile a little at this giddy boy who would otherwise be embarrassed for acting so weird if he was not so drunk.

Unfortunately, not even helping Topper can keep Y/N’s mind off Rafe. She wonders that since Rafe must’ve told Kelso something about her, Rafe could’ve confided in Topper too. From the gossip that JJ had told her, Topper used to date Sarah but even after they broke up, Rafe and Topper remained friends. So maybe, just maybe, Rafe had said something to Topper about her? She figured even if she asked Topper, it would never get back to Rafe. Topper was clearly drunk and would not remember the conversation he had with Y/N. No harm, no foul. Right?

Unfortunately, that idea was quickly squashed because just as she began to open her mouth, someone else entered the room. It was Rafe.

Rafe had skillfully avoided Y/N all night, while still stealing glancing her way. He never noticed that she too had been looking for him. He was so nervous that he’d eventually bump into her that he would make Kelso check every room before he entered it. Unfortunately, Kelso was drunk by midnight and could no longer help Rafe. Rafe tried to let it go, figuring you were probably gone by now. So, he asked Topper to refill his cup as he helped Kelso into his mom’s car. But, when Topper still hadn’t returned by the time Rafe entered his home, he thought there was no harm in checking up on him. Apparently, there was a lot of harm in that.

And now, there they stood, facing each other for the first time since the beginning of the night. Rafe wanted to turn back around and leave but he had always made a fool of himself, and he knew that if he awkwardly left without acknowledging Y/N, she’d surely think even lower of him. So, as soon as their eyes made contact, Rafe awkwardly raised his hand and waved. He could feel the awkward smile painted across his face and Y/N seemed to mimic him.

“Hey.” He squeaked out, taking both cups from Topper before speaking to his friend. He figured the less he looked at Y/N, the less awkward he would feel. He was wrong. “Top, why don’t you lie down on the couch. I’ll bring the beers soon.”

Topper only nodded, slowly making his way out of the kitchen, leaving his friend and Y/N in there alone. Alone for the first time since the beginning of the night. Both their pairs of eyes were trained on their drinks; Y/N was clutching onto JJ’s and Rafe held one for him and one for Topper. No one spoke for a while. Y/N had waited all night to get Rafe alone, just so they could talk and now she didn’t know what to say. She awkwardly shifted the weight in her feet, unable to think of the first thing she wanted to say. They were only five feet apart, but they might as well have been worlds away.

Rafe was in agony and decided to get it over with. He spoke first. “So, are you enjoying the party?” He spoke so formally, as if he was chatting with his grandmother, but he was too uncomfortable to speak any other way.

Y/N nodded, relieved he had taken the first leap forward. “Um, yeah. Never knew that kids could throw parties like this.”

Rafe smiled for a moment, happy that she was so amazed at his dullest party of the year. His heart fluttered at the thought of Y/N dancing in that beautiful white dress with him. Holding onto him as they swayed to the music, pulling her close. Close enough to -

“So, Rafe, I wanted to talk about earlier.” Y/N began, playing with the skin around her nails. It was a nervous tick she had yet to get rid of.

Those eight words destroyed Rafe. At that moment, he knew she had not believed his original lie. He wasn’t too surprised though. He was a shitty liar and Y/N seemed to pick on everything he did. Although he would rather rip his fingernails off one by one than have this uncomfortable conversation with Y/N, he knew he’d have to give her the answers she was looking for. Even if that meant embarrassing himself.

Finally, he nodded. “Um, uh, okay. What’s up?”

Y/N began to speak but before she could get a coherent sentence out, someone else entered the kitchen, making a bunch of noise as he did. Their eyes met instantly and when she recognized who he was, her back straightened slightly as if she had been caught in a salacious act. It was JJ.

“Y/N, what's taking so long?” He stops just after he enters the kitchen and as soon as his eyes go to Rafe, his smile drops. He’s confused beyond belief. He doesn’t know why Y/N is speaking to Rafe. He didn’t even know they knew each other. “Uh, am I interrupting something?”

Y/N forces a smile, glancing at Rafe briefly before walking past him and towards JJ. She hands JJ his cup and he gladly takes it, a look of pure confusion written on his face. “No, Rafe was just asking me if I am enjoying my first party in Outer Banks.”

JJ's eyes shift to Rafe, whose face is pure white. “Really? How… kind?”

Y/N knows JJ is suspicious so to curve his focus back on her, she reaches up to cup one side of his face. JJ’s eyes instantly fall back onto her, a small smile back on his lips. “Walk me home, JJ. I’m getting tired.”

JJ nods sweetly, placing his hand over the one that’s cupping his cheek. “Sure. Go get your stuff and I’ll meet you at the front of the house.”

Y/N looks back to Rafe one more time, a small smile on her face. Rafe pushes his lips into a thin line, nodding goodbye to her. She does the same, leaving the kitchen as quietly as she entered. Y/N’s afraid to leave JJ and Rafe alone but she really has no reason to stay any longer. She hopes that she can get Rafe alone soon so they can have an actual conversation. Tonight, was kind of a disaster but being with JJ and having such a fun time with him made up for it. She knows JJ is the type of guy she should be with. He’s fun and carefree and they’re too much alike to not get along. Even though this is all true and she does have feelings for JJ, there is a part of her that yearns for Rafe. And that part scares her.

Once Y/N is gone, JJ’s smile drops, and he turns back to Rafe with a menacing glare. “Look, I don’t know what your game is here, but I really like Y/N. We both know you’re not her type. So do both of us a favour and leave her alone.”

And with that, JJ was gone too. Leaving Rafe alone.

Even with all these people in his house, Rafe never felt more alone.

~

taglist: @tovvaa @canyoubuymetoast @multisimpinghoe (sorry to these queens for waiting so long lmaooo)

[maddiwrites]

Scared to Love

Pairing: JJ x Reader

Summary: You go from being best friends, to friends with benefits, to strangers with JJ Maybank. You tried your best not to fall in love with your best friend, but how could anyone not love the infamous Pogue?

Note: Sorry, I really suck a summaries. But I wanted to post something outside of my OBX rewrite so I hope you like it(:

Word Count 3.3k

Warnings: Mentions of abuse and divorce.

The beach is loud with teenagers holding red solo cups and cheering on their friends as they compete to out drink one another. The sky is dark and glittered with bright stars, but the night is still young, filled with both promises and threats. It’s another typical Friday night, surrounded by friends and strangers alike. You usually thrive at these kind of parties - the queen of beer pong, the hot girl dancing in the middle of the crowd like no one’s watching. You attract attention from all Outer Banks social groups - Pogues, Kooks, and Tourons. But now...

Now you wish you could hide from all of it.

If it were up to you, you would be at home, locked away in your room, watching Nicholas Sparks movies until you were no longer capable of crying. But lucky for you, you have best friends who don’t allow you to wallow in self pity. Sure, they let you cry on their shoulder, they rub your back, and tell you everything’s going to be okay. They compliment you. They tell you that you’re gonna go far in life and that you don’t need any man to make you feel like you deserve the world. But they also make sure that you don’t stay in your dark place. They would drag you out of there by your teeth and skin if they needed to. At the time, you can be pissed about it, but you learn to love them for it.

“I don’t think I’ve seen you smile once tonight.” John B walks up to you and offers a teasing smile. He moves to stand next to you, shoulder to shoulder, as you look out into the depth of the party from the edge. 

“I’m trying to find a reason to,” You answer honestly. Your eyes stay trained on the blonde Pogue with a cute redhead wrapped in his arms. They’re swaying to the beat of the music that plays loudly through someone’s portable speaker. They both look happy, and the sight of it makes you physically nauseous. 

John B follows your stare and sighs when he sees what’s got you so down. “Look, I don’t know what happened between you two -”

“It doesn’t matter.” You sip on your now lukewarm beer and tear your eyes away from the happy couple, or whatever they want to call themselves. 

“It does,” John B says, making you look at him. “Because I can’t be in the same room as my two best friends anymore. I mean, seriously, what happened? Did you guys have a fight or something?”

You gnaw at your bottom lip and flick your gaze down at the sand. What you and JJ had was different than what you have with the rest of your best friends. The two of you have always been the closest. Your friend group first started as just you, JJ, and John B. John B always felt like the brother you never had. You loved and fought like siblings usually do. He told you the cold hard truth even when you didn’t want to hear it. You loved him, but not like you loved JJ. You were always aware of the way your heart swelled when JJ laughed, or how your skin tingled when he touched you, or how your chest tightened when he would come back to the Chateau and brag to everyone about his most recent hookup from the night before. The blonde held a special place in your heart that no body else could replace. Not even now.

It all started when you and JJ were left alone at the Chateau for an entire night. John B was somewhere else - probably with Sarah Cameron, who knows. JJ had come from another run-in with his dad and asked that you stay with him because he didn’t want to be alone. The two of you ended up getting high off of JJ’s good stuff. You think it was the most you ever smoked in your life. The two of you ordered pizza, and laughed at dumb youtube videos. For a few hours, you forgot that JJ had an abusive father or that you were caught between a custody battle with your own parents. 

You don’t remember how or when it happened, but the air grew thick with tension and neither of you were laughing anymore. You remember looking into his blue eyes, the color of the ocean, which you always said fit the surfer perfectly. Next thing you know, his lips are on yours - softly at first, then into a rhythm that most resembled an insatiable hunger. He took you into the room he claimed as his, and then....and then he claimed you.

You woke up first that morning. Your stomach swirled with some kind of emotion you couldn’t exactly pin when you looked over at JJ’s bare back as he slept on his stomach. Maybe it was excitement, joy, bliss. Or maybe it was dread, guilt, fear. It wasn't a secret that you and relationships...well, they never ended well. You never stayed long enough to catch serious feelings for the other person. Kie seems to think it’s due to the disastrous relationship your own parents had, and you couldn’t help but wonder if she was right. Your parents spent the second half of your life tearing each other down, competing over who was able to hurt the other one more. You spent a lot of nights hiding under your covers as if that would protect you from your mothers screams or glasses breaking from your father’s rage. You saw what loving someone could do to people. Loving someone can make you hate someone.

And you didn’t want that to happen with JJ. You knew you were already in too deep. You became a bubbly school girl whenever he came around since you were ten. But you refused to let you and JJ become like your mom and dad. If you wanted to keep JJ around, you we’re going to have to keep him at a distance. 

You knew you should have stopped it after the first time, but JJ was like a magnet you couldn’t detach yourself from. You both made a silent agreement that this would be a no strings attached situation. So off the books that even your closest friends didn’t know about it. At first it was fun and harmless - each of you got what you were craving the most, whether it be the comfort of the other person’s company or the high only that person could give the other. But inevitably, lines started to blur. You found yourself staring at your phone on days you didn’t spend together, wearing his hoodies just to feel closer to him because it hugged you in his scent, staying latched to his side at boneyard and Kook parties. You didn’t know if he felt the same way, and you didn’t let yourself find out. You put space between yourself and the infamous Pogue, only showing up in the middle of the night once a week instead of three to four. You tried talking to Tourons at parties - never going home with them but always having them as a back up option. You chose the seat furthest away from him during lunch at The Wreck, and made up excuses as to why you couldn’t go surfing with him in the early mornings. Slowly, you tried to go back to the way things were, but the further you separated from JJ, the greater the crack in your heart became.

Surprisingly, it was JJ who cut things off completely on a night you wanted to use to take your mind off the latest fight between your parents. Even with your father moved out of your family home, the screaming matches never stopped, and now they were trying to use you to pick sides. In the end, JJ did take your mind off your own family, but never in the way you expected him to.

“I don’t think we should do this anymore,” he told you as he slowly lifted your arms away from his shoulders. 

“What? Why?” You looked at him with a tilted head and narrowed eyes. Your breathing became static and shallow, like you were on the verge of a panic attack. 

“Because this was a bad idea, and it’s not healthy - me using you to forget about my dad, you using me to forget about your parents -”

“Using you?” You scoff and shake your head in disbelief. “You think that’s all this is?” “Why did you come over here? Why today? Why right now?”

You clenched your teeth together and looked away from the boy who was now staring at you with a look that resembled pity. You wanted to tell him that sex wasn’t the only reason you find solace in his company. He made you feel safe and happy. He made you forget about the world’s problems with his jokes and stories. He made you laugh harder than anyone else could dream ever could. JJ is the first person you think of when you wake up and the person you dream about at night. But you couldn’t tell him this. Because that would mean admitting your stronger feelings for him. That would mean possibly destroying the relationship you already have with him,

Little did you know, not answering him would do the same thing.

“Fine,” You swallow back your tears and turn away to leave. You couldn’t stay here, standing in front of him for another second. Your felt embarrassed and ashamed. Like you had made a mistake that you can’t take back.

“Y/N -” JJ tried calling out to you, but you ignored him and slammed the door behind you.

You down the last of your beer and shake the empty cup. Ignoring John B’s question you walk past him. “I need another drink.”

John B shakes his head with frustration. Rolling his eyes he says, “He asks about you all the time. Talks about you non stop but won’t tell me why he won’t just call you up himself. And I don’t know what to tell him because by shutting him out, you’re shutting me out too.”

You swallow the lump in your throat and look down at the sand covering the toes of your sneakers. You hate that what John B said is true, and you hate even more that you don’t know how to fix it without seeing JJ Maybank. And you’re just not ready for that.

You didn’t see JJ turn his head at the sound of his best friend’s rising voice. No one in the crowd seemed to recognize the tension only a couple feet away, but he did. He watched from afar, noticing the space between you two and how stiff your bodies are. His heart tore into two, knowing he was the reason for their dispute. But he didn’t know what to do or how to fix it. 

He thinks about you everyday, contemplates calling you up, or going to your house and apologizing personally. He misses you. He never meant to hurt you. But...he had to think of himself. And staying with you was killing him slowly. Because he knew you wouldn’t give him what he always dreamed of. A lifetime with you as his partner in crime. The love of his life. The mother to his children some day.

But everyday without you felt like another year had been tacked onto his life. Sometimes he thinks he’d rather just live through the heartbreak than never having you at all. 

“You know what?” You say, “This was a bad idea. I’m just going to go.” 

John B doesn’t stop you. He just watches you walk away. He bites his tongue because he knows whatever he wants to say in anger will only mask how he really feels - which is pity and sadness. Because he know something is is going on with you and he can’t help you - not until you let him.

“Leaving so soon?” A certain voice makes you stop in your tracks on the edge of the beach where people have parked their cars. 

You squeeze your fists together to stop your hand from shaking and take three deep breaths to calm your racing heart. You slowly turn to look at him and suck your bottom lip in between your teeth. He looks the same. Shaggy blonde hair, beautiful tan skin, sparkling blue eyes. Although, he looks sheepish with his hands tucked into his cargo short pockets and his eyes narrowed in your direction. He looks sad. But that doesn’t make sense because he broke it off with you.

“I guess I’m just not in the party mood tonight,” You respond. JJ takes note of how empty your voice sounds.

“Y/N Y/L/N not in the party mood?” JJ tries to joke. “That’s unheard of.”

“What are you doing, JJ?” You ask impatiently. The longer you look at the boy you...well...the boy you don’t want to love, the harder it is to breathe. “Don’t you have a girl to entertain? She’s pretty, clearly into you-”

“Why are you doing this?”

“Doing what?” You play dumb.

JJ sighs. “Look, I understand if you’re mad at me or something -”

“I’m not mad,” You deny with a shrug. “We fucked around for a little bit and then you moved on-”

“Don’t do that. Don’t act like what he had meant nothing -“

“Well did it? Mean anything?” You narrow your eyes and take another step closer to him. “Because from what you said, I was only using you! And you were only using me. That’s what you said!”

“I didn’t mean it like that. I -”

“What did you mean then?” You challenge him. You feel your eyes heat up with fresh tears and no matter how many times you try to blink them away, they threaten to fall. You feel a red blush rush up your neck as you look deep into his eyes, remembering the shame you felt that night. You never meant to make him feel like that’s all he was to you - a distraction or a quick fuck. He was still your best friend. And you ruined that, and there’s no one else to blame but yourself. Yet here you are, yelling at him because it was easier that way. 

“I never meant for any of this to happen. I just - I just wanted my best friend back!”

You take a step back and look at him like the blonde just grew two heads. “I never left. I was there the entire time. You’re the one that ended things.”

“Because I loved you!” JJ yells at you, rendering you absolutely speechless. His words ring over your head like a chime, dancing beautifully through your ear drums. Despite his outburst of admittance of affection, he glares at you because how could you be so stupid not to see it? 

“What?” Your voice is barely above a whisper and your own scowl is gone. 

JJ runs his hands through his disheveled hair and curses to himself. “Fuck, Y/N, I loved you. I still love you. But I know how you feel about relationships and love and -” JJ sighs. “I didn’t want to lose you, but my god, it was killing me that I was giving my all and you would never -”

You feel your feet moving forward despite your brain and thoughts freezing completely. 

You didn’t know how to feel.  You just knew you needed to be near him. You wanted to feel his heart beat against his chest and his breath on your skin. You wanted to look him dead in the eyes and read his brain like an open book. You just wanted to be near him and somehow show him that you felt the same way.

Your hands cup his jaw to make him look at you. He looks pained - like a boy who had just been punched in the gut by his worst enemy, and it killed you to know you were the cause of it. You didn’t mean to. Little did he know you felt the same way. It was the reason you distanced yourself from him in the first place. You loved him. Fuck, you loved him so much. But you were scared. You didn’t want to end up like your parents. You’d rather die than learn to resent the blonde Pogue in front of you. But by trying to save your relationship, you ended up hurting yourself and JJ. 

He keeps his eyes closed and tries to move his face out of your hands, but you stay strong and move even closer to him so that you’re chest to chest.

“I would.” Your voice is a whisper and your breath sends a rush of goosebumps down his neck. “Hey..” You whisper again and JJ opens his eyes to look at you. “I would. Because I love you too.”

JJ’s brows furrow. “What?”

“I was scared. I am scared.” You correct yourself. “I tried to turn it all off by distancing myself from you. I thought that maybe if I stopped -” You pause as a silent tear runs down your cheek. “I tried not to love you. God, I tried so hard. But I do, JJ. I love you so freaking much. But I’m terrified that -”

“Hey, hey.” As your hands fall, JJ’s go to your face to wipe away your tears with his thumbs. “We’re not like them.” He reads your mind perfectly. He knows about your parents’ divorce and the mental damage it’s caused you. “We’ll never be like them. You hear me?”

“How do you know that?” Your voice cracks.

“Because if I’ve got you, what do I have to be miserable about?” JJ grins as you giggle. You turn your head to place a kiss against the palm of his hand, ripping open a set of flutters through JJ’s abdomen. 

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t. And I won’t hurt you either. I promise.”

You sniffle and bite your bottom lip as a smile spreads across you face. “So, are we really doing this?”

JJ nods as he leans in closer to you and pulls your chin up. “Yeah. We’re doing this.” He leans down and kisses you gently at first, letting the fireworks spark throughout your entire body, then moves his lips more passionately against yours. 

Neither of you knew, but from afar, your best friends were watching behind a couple of trees with open mouths and wide eyes. 

“Oh my god!” Sarah jumps up and down like a school girl. She always knew you and JJ had something stronger than the rest of the Pogues but never said anything. 

“I knew it,” Kie shakes her head with a smirk. 

“It’s about fucking time,” John B wraps his arms around his own girlfriend and kisses the top of her head. “I was going to kill them.”

“What?” Pope looks between his two best friends with furrowed brows. “You knew about this all along?”

John B scoffs, “How could you not?”

“Even I had a feeling something was going on,” Sarah giggles. 

“Why do they have to be so fucking stubborn?” Kie says.

“Should we...I don’t know...congratulate them or something?” Pope asks awkwardly. 

Kie pats Pope’s shoulder as she walks past him to go back to the party. “Absolutely not.”

“Yeah, I’m not going near them until morning,” John B says and grabs Sarah’s hand to lead her back to the keg to get another drink. “In fact, we should just steer clear of the Chateau for the entire night.”

You still had a lot to learn, but not letting your parents’ divorce dictate your life was the best lesson you learned. They can take whatever they want from you, but they weren’t going to take away your relationship with JJ. Because he’s the best thing that could have ever happened to you.

[paisley-print]

10:00pm / Happy Birthday

About: It’s Jack’s Birthday and you planned something special. 

Warnings: Marriage problems, infidelity, alcohol.

Rating: 18+

Characters: Agent Whiskey x Reader

Note: You wanna see some real speed boy? (Months of not posting and two chapters in less then 24 hours. Whack.)

Series Master List

@scorpionerd  @just-here-for-the-moment@sherala007 @jediknight122 @pintsizemama​ @kenbechillin @elegantduckturtle @hearttbreak @tintinn16 @showbuckysomelove​ @somenerdyuser @kesskirata @ohyeasam @athalien @spideysimpossiblegirl @littlemisspascal @sheresh0y​  @voteforpedro09 @greeneyedblondie44 @feel-it-on-the-way-home13

“Hi Jack, it’s....” you glance over at the clock on the stove, checking the time. “It’s ten. I’m calling to see when you’ll be home. Okay, love you, bye.” You played the message back, cringing a little at the way your words slurred together, but sent it, anyway. 

You reached over to pour yourself another glass of wine. It was your third one, but you were already feeling the effects. He said he would be home at seven. If you knew he was going to work overtime tonight, you wouldn’t have spent all day rushing around. 

Your stomach hurt just thinking about the tray of lasagna and birthday cake you spent hours working on. Still though, you wanted to wait to eat until he got home. 

This year had to be better than the last. You doubted whether you could make it through another twelve months of silence. Plus, with the whole Ezra thing, you needed a grand gesture to show that you were willing to work on this. He cared for you; he had said it. He loved you. He would always love you, and although he looked through you as if peering at a specter, you believed him. You hadn’t been the best wife these last few months, so you felt as though you owed him this. 

Tonight was just for him, and everything had been prepared perfectly. His favorite movie on the TV, beers in the fridge, birthday gift all wrapped on the nightstand upstairs. Months ago, he mentioned a pair of cuff links his father used to wear while the two of you were combing through old photo albums you had found in the attic. They were square, with yellow gold trim and two crossed six-shooter pistols set into a background of black onyx. 

Jack’s father left when Jack was nine, and one of the few happy memories he had was the day his father brought home his first suit for Sunday mass. His father taught him how to make sure his shirt wasn’t creased, how to wear a necktie, comb his hair back with gel, and finally the importance of cuff links. 

While looking over the photograph, Jack had mentioned liking the style of the cuff links in passing, but you could see they held quite a bit of emotional value. After that, you had spent weeks tracking down the exact set. With the help of a Reddit board, a few antique shop owners and one generous seller on Etsy, you secured a pair identical to those in the photograph. 

Keeping the secret had been tough. You almost let it slip a few times, but you will yourself to go on a little longer. The surprise would be that much more meaningful if you gave it to him on his birthday…. if he ever planned to show up, that is. 

As you finished another glass, you stood from the table and walked into the guest bathroom to reapply your lipstick. A few hours ago, your makeup was perfect, but it was now looking smudged. You tried to fix it as best you could while the room around you spun.

You had one of his dress shirts, with thigh-high stockings and a new lilac set of lingerie you bought specifically for this occasion, and heels you took off about three hours ago. You felt so incredibly ugly looking at your reflection, and you weren’t sure why. A few hours ago you were on top of the world, now you were willing yourself not to cry. 

Once you were done touching up your lipstick, you grabbed another glass of wine and took a seat on the couch. It was then your phone buzzed, and a number you recognized popped up on the screen.

You picked it up, becoming aware of how fast your heart was beating in your chest. “Hello?”

“Little bird?” Ezra’s voice came floating over the receiver. “Forgive me for calling at this hour, but I was becoming worried about your lack of response to my messages. Noticed your car in town today on my way to work and I wanted to make sure you were alright.”

You felt guilt grip tightly at your chest. He had sent you a few texts since the night of the shooting. You couldn’t bring yourself to respond. This man was bad for you. It didn’t matter how much you liked him; you were a married woman trying to work on your relationship. Ezra knew that, he should respect you and understand why you weren’t jumping to text him back.

“I’m fine” your aid.

He paused, hearing the way you were slurring your words. “Little bird-”

“Stop fucking calling me that,” you snapped, anger rising out of you from nowhere. “I’m not your little bird, okay? I have a fucking name.”

Ezra seemed incredibly taken off guard “my apologies-”

“And I need you to stop texting me and calling me. Whatever the fuck you think we had, we didn’t. You were convenient, that’s all. I think it’s seriously creepy how you keep trying to hit on me when you know I’m married. Seriously, go find yourself a real fucking girlfriend and stop trying to ruin my marriage.”

The silence that followed was deafening, so you continued, “okay? Please get out of my life.”

“Understood,” he said simply. “Have a nice night.”

You hung up the phone and threw it onto the other side of the couch.

-

It was nearly 5:00am when Jack finally came through the door. The first thing he noticed was the half empty bottle of wine left open on the table, then you, asleep on the couch. He set down his satchel and locked the door behind him. Then he went around, shutting out the lights, then the tv. Once he was done, he sat next to you and rubbed your arm to wake you up. 

His patience was running thin. He had wished you up in bed by the time he got home, asleep, so he didn’t have to deal with any of this. “‘Y/n’ come on. Time to go to bed.”

You drew in a slow breath and blinked at him as you woke. You could still feel the effects of the alcohol burning bright. “What time is it?” you mumbled, sitting up. 

“Come on, I’m gonna pick you up. Ready?”

 You nodded and allowed him to stand you up and put you over his shoulder. You noticed how his shirt was untucked in the back.

Once in the bedroom, he laid you down on the bed. He moved towards the closet but took his hand and stood. He sighed in annoyance and moved his face away as you wrapped your arms around him. 

“Happy birthday,” you smiled, the heat from the alcohol making your face feel warm. 

“Not my birthday anymore,” he said, trying to gently pull away from you.

Some part of you knew you were making a fool out of yourself. “I got a gift for you-”

He shook his head. “You’re disgusting.”

The words stung. You let go, your eyes widening, like you were about to cry. Then you realized what he thought you meant by gift. He knew you were too drunk to sleep with, so implying that he would have offended him.

 You laughed, trying to smooth over the awkwardness. “No, not like that. I’m sorry about - I. I drank when I was cooking because I thought you would be home earlier.” You noticed a smudge of pink on the inside of his collar. Then you noticed he wasn’t wearing a tie either. You lifted your hand, intending to touch it “What’s-”

 He jerked back, then turned, going into the bathroom and slamming the door shut behind him. You jumped at the sound and the way it made the photos hung on the wall rattle. You weren’t exactly sure what you did or saw to deserve a response like that. 

When you heard the shower turn on, you figured you would get ready for bed yourself, but before you did, you withdrew the gift from the nightstand and placed it on his side of the bed. After that, you made your way to the guest bathroom to take off your makeup, then back downstairs to heat up some food. Nausea was already beginning to set in. You needed something in your stomach. While you were down there, you made a point to pack some leftovers in Tupperware containers that he could grab on his way out the door in the morning.

-

You slept in the guest room that night, figuring it was best to allow him space. He left before you woke, but you could have sworn you felt the mattress dip sometime in the morning and a soft touch come up to smooth down your hair. It could have very well been a dream though. The hangover was a bad one, and it was times like this you realize your age was catching up with you more quickly then you would like to acknowledge. Your plan for the rest of the day was to clean, mostly because you didn’t know what else to do and if you sat mulling over the events of last night it would just make you sad. 

[curly-bangtan]

Heatwave Anniversary Drabble: i miss u like ... a lot (M)

[Heatwave // Godless // Heatwave Drabbles] <- read first! but this drabble can be read alone

Pairing: Taehyung x reader

Summary: One night until Taehyung is back from his boys’ trip but you miss him too much.

Genre: fluff, smut, kinda crack?, boyfriend/established relationship au

Warnings: unprotected sex (oc on contraception so don’t u do it), teasing over the phone, riding and grinding, just kinda vanilla i-missed-u-so-much sex, a particular selca

Word count: 5k

A/N: It was Heatwave’s one year anniversay on the 17th so I decided to write a quick(?) drabble for this. I fully intended on posting this on time, but wanted to change up some stuff so only managed to finish this now. Happy birthday to my first fic and forver my baby!

MOSTLY UNEDITED

.

The absolute one thing you hate most about your boyfriend being away from you is your boyfriend being away from you.

You have never been the clingy needy type, that is more his role in this relationship, nor are you really one to show affection. In fact, you would hate for that false image to be perceived of you because all that sappy shit makes you want to throw up your dinner. But one thing you’ve learnt since Taehyung had gone away on a week-long boys’ trip down by the coast is how cold the house feels in his absence, despite being in the middle of a sizzling summer.

Everything is so eerily quiet without his random outbursts into song and fits of laughter. Having spent 3 years living together, you have gotten so used to his constant presence that you had even caught yourself several times calling out for him only to remember that he isn’t here. Waking up without his arm draped around your waist, slided up your top at some point during the night, impacts you more than you’d like to admit.

Are you glad that he’s having a great time with his friends by the beach, relaxing all day and drinking all night? Of course. Are you having a great time all by yourself over here in the absence of your boyfriend? Certainly not.

Though, of course, this isn’t something you would confess to out loud, especially to him. He doesn’t need to know how often the thought: ugh fuck, I miss Tete is crossing your mind, lest you want him to rub his smugness in your face.

It isn’t just that. Your relationship hasn’t been without its tests in the course of its years and things have only finally stabilised. It’s not that you don’t trust Taehyung to be with his ladish friends for seven days, shirtless dusk till dawn, intoxicated to the point where he calls you thinking that you’re the pizza delivery guy but…

A hammered Taehyung at a beach full of girls who are no doubt thirsting over him leaves a bad taste in your mouth. You trust him to be loyal to his core, but you don’t trust anyone else to keep their hands from copping a feel. No matter how you look at it, you would just so much rather he be at home with you right now.

You have endured this for six days. Six full days without Taehyung. Six full days with no sex, no tummy kisses, no clammy hand holding even though you’re only to get groceries. Just one more night and this torture will fucking be over, praise the lord. But you also don’t know how much more you can hold back that I miss you text because you’re combusting from the need to see him again.

It’s almost 4am. Your sleep schedule is fucked and it’s really his fault.

The bright screen of your phone offers the only luminescence at this hour. Your messages from him in the past week have not been shy of your daily dose of Taehyung - clips of the beach (always mischievously caption with something along the lines of “thinking of Mykonos ;D” where you went on your first holiday together), selfies that you dwell way too long staring at because you miss that face buried in your neck, drunk videos of the antics him and the boys get up to that you’ll definitely chastise him for when he comes back yet can’t help but laugh at. You find yourself scrolling through them every single night.

Your personal favourite: a pouty selfie he sent you after he dropped his ice cream, the picture you always go back to and the one you’re staring at right now. His hair is frizzy from the sea, lips jutted out childishly and cheeks puffy. Your chest constricts, fuck...

Just one more night, you remind yourself. And then he’s back and all yours again.

Then suddenly, the phone in your hand vibrates, short and abrupt. The bar slides down from the top of your screen reading New Message from Tete. Surprised, you scramble to open it, maybe a bit too desperately for you to be proud of.

04:11

Tete: bby

You blink at those three letters, lips pressed together because your heart is cinching.

Tete: ur prob aslep rn but

Tete: i missu

Tete: <334

The typos indicate that he is wasted, and you take a guess that he has just returned from their last night out of the holiday. The corners of your lips turn up knowing that he is thinking of you right now.

You: no im awake

Your fingers are itching to reply with i miss u too, and it takes all your willpower and stubbornness to stay true to your steadfast self. There is just something so unpleasantly moist about these kinds of texts, something that makes you cringe and gag when you read them. You refuse to be one of those people. A heart is all that you allow yourself to reply.

You: <3

You: r u drunk?

Tete: drunk in love

Tete: yes

A giggle escapes you at his god awful cheesiness - drunk, sober alike. Insufferable. But probably Taehyung’s most endearing quality.

You: did u have fun!!

Tete: yeah

Tete: but i miss u

Tete: more than i had fun

God, you feel like a teenager again, suddenly overcome with this gushing urge to roll over and scream into your pillow. You’re glad he’s merely texting this to you right now because if he had said this to you face to face, your skin would most definitely stain scarlet from neck to hairline, scalding to the touch. Even months into officially being his girlfriend, these curveballs of overwhelming affection throw you off guard.

Again, the compulsion to tell him you miss him too yanks at your heartstrings. You truly don’t understand why it’s so hard for you to say how you feel, let yourself be soft and vulnerable. You know it’s one of your flaws so it’s something that you’re working on, but you can’t say you’ve made much progress.

But just as you decide that maybe you should take the plunge, suck it up and just text him those three words, he sends you a picture.

Tete:

No, not just a picture. A selfie, of him in bed, shirtless under the covers. “Oh, fuck…”

Hand clasped over your mouth to prevent any sound from involuntarily escaping, it takes a moment for your breath to return to you and for you to stop gawking. At this hour… Really? Is he seriously doing this to you right now?

His sleepy eyes. His messy curls. And his fucking nose mole.

The undoing of your existence.

Tete: this boy misses u :]

You: bruh

You: bruhhhhhhh

You: taehyung

Tete: oui my lady :))

You: 👁👄👁

You: can u not do this to my heart

You: y did u send me this </333

You: what was the reason

Tete: coz i miss u

Tete: do u like it

Tete: :D

‘Do u like it’... Actually, you have tears in your eyes, albeit mostly due to staring at a screen for too long so late at night, but it’s certainly contributed by this selfie. You tell yourself you’re acting out because it’s been six days since you last saw him. Perhaps Taehyung Withdrawal Symptoms is the explanation behind why you want to print and frame this picture because that is definitely not a normal reaction to a picture. But this is a masterpiece.

You: taehyung my soul left my body

You: like i could weep

You: u look so soft and fluffy

You: :’(

Tete: lollll

Tete: simp

This boy has some nerve?! Simp! He called you a simp?! Laughing like a maniac, you can’t even pretend to be mad at him, not after this picture he sent anyway. So you guess you are a simp. This selfie is your kryptonite.

Tete: jkjkkkkk

You: hahahaha

You: y r u doing this to me

You: its 4am

You: u can’t send me this rn

You: i won’t be able to sleep

Tete: o yeah how come ur still up?

Tete: go to sleepppp

You: can’t sleep

Tete: aw no whyyy

Because you miss him that’s why.

You miss Kim Taehyung. You miss Tete. You miss your boyfriend, your best friend, your other half. You miss his touch, his smile, his wide eyes when he’s confused. You miss his morning snuggles and late night kisses. You miss the way he hugs you from behind as you prepare your meals. You miss the wandering hands that he can’t help when you’re out in public. You miss playing PUBG together until the sun comes out then both sleeping past noon. You miss taking baths together where bubbles would get into your mouth as your kisses get heated.

You just miss him.

It’s only been six days and you’re in this state. What has he done to you?

Fingers hovering over the keyboard, you let out a great sigh and deflate. No other reason offers itself for you to be awake at this hour; he knows you cherish sleep above anything. Teeth digging into your lip, you inhale long and hard, then exhale the gust of your cowardice. It’s not that deep, stupid. Fuck it.

You: coz

You: i miss u

You: like … a lot

You: 🙄

It’s final - you guess you’ve become a mushy wet sap. Truly it is embarrassing how big of a step this is for you; but the sense of pride and accomplishment feels oddly validating. Baby steps. The eye-rolling emoji right after is subconscious because you could only betray the core of your character that much. Forgo it and taehyung might not believe that it’s you.

Tete: omg

Tete: :D

Tete: rrly?

You: *blank kissy emoji*

Tete: wow

Tete: u actually don’t know how hard i’m smiling rn

You: simp

Tete: ofc that’s my middle name

Tete: i miss u a lot too

Tete: like a lotttttt

Tete: i’ll show u how much when i’m back

Ah… Of course, the Taehyung specialty - smothering you with his affection. You freeze at the thought of his wildfire kisses and head between your thighs. Nothing screams of how much you’ve missed each other more than a good dicking down, climax after climax until you’re both panting messes of sweat and entangled limbs. The anticipation makes you squirm under the sheets, legs pressing together.

You: pls do

You: i need u

It’s uncertain what spirit has possessed you at this ungodly hour for these words to come out of you. There’s an instant flash of ickiness, but you let the self-cringing simmer and dissipate into the realisation that this is okay, this is normal. Taehyung’s your boyfriend, couples text like this. You need to grow some.

Tete: fuck baby

Tete: i’m so not used to u texting like this, it's driving me crazy

You: crazy how *cat smirk*

If you weren’t smiling before, you’re definitely grinning like an idiot now. His reaction is predictable, yet oddly still, an incredible wave of satisfaction hits you. And because you want to savour this moment, maybe give him a taste of his own medicine, you send him a picture of yourself.

Camisole strap slid off your shoulder, hair splayed out, bottom lip deep red from biting down on it too much. Just to return the favour.

Tete: y/n

Tete: call me now

-Incoming call from Tete-

Laughing to yourself, you wait a good few seconds before picking up to prolong his torture. “Yes, Taehyung?” You put your thumb between your teeth to suppress the laughter.

“Fuck.” Against the silence of the night, the low rasp of his voice permeating into you from the speaker of your phone sends tingles up your toes. You’ve fucking missed his voice more than you thought. “Y/N… You can’t do this to me.”

“I told you, I miss you. Like… a lot.” The saccharine tone in your reply is foreign to your own ears, but you like the sound of it and the deep rumble it elicits from your boyfriend.

“How much?” Taehyung eggs you on. His words are barely slurred, so you gather that he has sobered up at least for the most part by now. Yet there is still a slowness to it that suggests

“Hmm, like… I touched myself every night at the thought of you a lot.”

A sharp inhale. Then silence. But you know better so you give him a moment to gather himself.

“You shouldn’t be putting that image in my head.” Exasperation is evident in his voice, desperate and yearning. You can imagine him now, one hand on his phone, the other sliding over his pants that are getting a bit too tight for comfort. Your breath hitches.

“Then you shouldn’t have sent me that picture, Taehyung…”

“You said it was soft and fluffy. What you sent me back was not soft and fluffy.”

“Just because it’s soft doesn’t mean it doesn’t turn me on. You do things to me… okay?” Heat trapped beneath the skin of your cheeks, your grip on the phone against your ear slackening as your thighs rub together.

“Fuck, I’m getting hard, baby…” Nothing gets him going more than the knowledge that he turns you on, it’s his weakness but somewhat his strength.

“That’s… unfortunate. Are you going to do something about it?”

His gulp is audible even over the phone. “Uh…” A sigh. “Um. Maybe. Thoughts are being thought.”

“What kind of thoughts? Thoughts about me touching myself and moaning your name? Thoughts about how much I wish my fingers were your cock thrusting so deep into me that I feel it in my guts? Or are you thinking about what you’ll do to me when you’re back tomorrow? Fucking my mouth until I’m crying or filling me up with your cum first?” Your hips buckle at the filth leaving your mouth. This is more like you; you haven’t abandoned your nature after all.

“Oh, fuckkkk.” His moan resonates into your skull, not quite as if he’s here with you but good enough to fill your desire. “Y/N… I need you so badly.” Breath ragged, you hear movement of his sheets in the background as he adjusts into a more comfortable position.

“Are you stroking your cock right now?” A warm slick oozes out of your own entrance. There’s something about Taehyung masturbating to you that elevates you to a different kind of high.

“What do you think, baby?” As you listen closely, you hear the slow rhythm of his pumping, and your fingers ache to pleasure yourself. ‘The things I’ll fucking do to you when I’m back.”

“Mmm, but it’s late, Taehyung, why don’t we go to sleep.”

“Wait, what?” The stroking stops instantly and surprise in his voice releases a smug satisfaction into your veins. The equivalent of pouring a bucket of ice water over his head right now. Teasing is an old undying habit, what can you say? “You wanna end the call now?”

“Yeah, we should sleep, babe.” Grin unsuppressed, you turn over onto your side, probably a bit too pleased with yourself at your success. Taehyung is an easy victim always.

“What the fuckkk?” Your boyfriend groans. “You’re seriously going to tease me this hard then leave me high and dry?” When you offer no more response than a sly chuckle, he add, “You’re so evil.”

“Save it for tomorrow, Taehyung. Think about it, we’re one sleep away from seeing each other again.”

“Fuck, I know. But you just got me so fucking horny, bruhhh. I thought we were gonna have phone sex.” You are still laughing at his whining, basking in the victory you’re holding over him.

“Taehyung, save it for the real sex.” The idea of phone sex crossed your mind several times to be honest, but you really want to collect every single drop of desire and longing and unleash it tomorrow. Raw and pent up. Nothing to dampen the fire.

A sigh of defeat down the line. “You’re going to be the death of me, you know?” You know. “How am I supposed to sleep now though? I’m so rock hard that it hurts.”

“You can figure that out yourself, big guy.” Your cheeks ache from smiling for too long; they often do during calls with him. “One sleep away, okay?”

“Ugh, fine, you demon. I can’t believe you sometimes.” He lets out another sigh. Your heart skips at the anticipation of how he will punish you for this. “Good night, I miss you.”

“Good night, I miss you more.” There’s a sudden change of tone with these words. Because you truly mean it. Sex and physical intimacy aside, you really just missed his voice, his banter.

You fall asleep almost immediately.

.

You don’t think you’ve heard a sweeter sound than the keys rattling at the door the next day. Practically leaping off the couch where you had been awaiting him in your Taeyhyung-less boredom, you run to the door.

As it swings open, heat courses to your chest when your eyes land on his, so full of comfort. Your boyfriend is home. Handsome as ever, much more tanned than your memory of him and much more attractive. White t-shirt and loose black shorts, a mundane outfit that only he could make look exceptional.

And as much as you want to sprint up and throw yourself onto him, your feet stay planted on the floor.

“Hey.” You barely breathe out.

Stay calm and composed, you tell yourself. It was only one week without him, it’s not like he’s returning from war.

But Taehyung doesn’t even reply, because in two long strides he is standing before you, bags tossed to the side, a sign of their insignificance in the presence of you. His arms find their home circled around you, face buried in your hair before you can utter another word. You don’t hesitate to return his embrace, holding his waist as you let yourself fall into his chest. He smells like what summer should, the ocean, sweat and young love; his familiar musk greeting you as if he never left.

Your lips meet his, strong and full of intent. He’s so unexpectedly soft when he kisses back, a timeless romantic dance like he is saviour your taste on his tongue.

With your weight leaning on him, he slowly topples back, stepping hastily until your bodies land on the couch. You fit your legs on either side of him as you burrow your nose in his neck and breathe him in, memorise him. In nothing but a large shirt, your bare thighs are exposed for his roaming.

When you pull away and face each other, you are struck by his beauty. His skin is sun-kissed and glowing, hair an effortlessly beautiful mess, the slightest hint of a stubble peeking through below his nose. Your heart belongs to him forever, you know it without a doubt.

“You smell so good. I missed you so much, baby.” And his voice… That deep baritone honey that you have taken for granted all this time - music to your ears.

“Imissedyoutoo…” You mumble, shy under his undivided attention and mercilessly unbroken eye contact.

With your chests pressed together, his chuckle rumbles into you. “What was that?”

“I missed you too… I guess.” Face flaming, you can’t bring yourself to meet his eye at your admittance, fingers twirling around his curls to preoccupy yourself.

But he cups your chin and turns your face to him, forehead pressing up to yours until your noses are touching, breaths mixing. “That’s not what you said last night.” Taehyung smirks, hands sliding down to your waist, the material of your shirt bunching up in his hands. “Do I need to remind you?”

“No…” You find yourself unable to keep your eyes open, your core pulsing mercilessly as you grind onto him. “How are you already hard, Taehyung…” And though you mean to scold him, it comes out breathless.

Lips hovering, he traces the edge of your jaw, tingling the sensitive little hairs on its way to your ear. When he reaches the shell of your ear, warm breath infiltrating so relentlessly into you, you almost lose yourself right there on his lap. “Don’t you know how much I love you?” He whispers.

“Show me.” Is all you make out.

His hands are already beneath your shirt before you even notice, palms kneading into your breasts as he takes your nipples between his two fingers and rolls. As he kisses you again, the same tenderness exchanges between your lips. It’s a different kind of desperation to be so slow and gentle, one that means so much more than sex, one that’s telling of how much you truly missed each other. Your hips roll with a mind of their own over him. One hand of his comes down to your ass, guiding the waves of your rocking. And each time his stiff clothed member digs into your clit, you whimper into his mouth.

Carefully, Taehyung rolls you over onto your back, sucking your bottom lip to keep the seal from breaking. He pulls away when he’s on top of you, and a string of glistening saliva bridges between your mouths. “Foreplay or no? Tell me what you want?” Compliant as ever.

“I need you to fill me up right now. Anything else can wait.” You watch the devotion ignite in his eyes. His fingers are in a hurry as they pull your panties off, knees spreading your legs open as he kneels between your gaping entrance. He tugs his shirt off from the collar, such smoothness in his action that your insides coil up. His newly-bronzed rich skin revealed, you can’t help but reach up and run your hands down from chest to navel, revelling in his blemishless ridges.

A low sound reverberates from the back of Taehyung’s throat as your touch travels down to unbutton his shorts. They fall loose. His hard throbbing members springs free, a glistening bead oozing from his slit. “You didn’t wear boxers?”

When you glance up, you notice his sheepish grin. He presses his mouth onto yours, still smiling, guiding you back onto your back. “I just couldn’t wait.” Taehyung whispers. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you, especially since last night… Ah, fuck.” Another deep groan erupts from him as you reach down and slather that bead of precum all over his tip. His head falls onto your neck, writhing under your merciless stroking.

His tip brushing against your clit, your toes curls at the teasing of your weakness, hips jolting up involuntarily and perhaps a bit too violently. You’re so embarrassingly sensitive after this many days without Taehyung, and he notices from your breathless reaction. Smirking, he takes his shaft in his hand and runs his stiff head over your clit mercilessly. And as you roll your head back helplessly, he nibbles onto your exposed neck, faint stubble grazing your skin.

“Quit the teasing…” You whine, unable to withstand the build up of twisting pressure begging to be fulfilled between your legs. “Just put-”

Taehyung pushes himself into you so abruptly that you yelp. And there it is, that mind-melting stretch of your walls that you’ve so much missed. “Fuck, Taehyung…” Your entire core feels ablaze, so numbing that your nails dig into the leather of the couch before they find grip on his arms.

“Like that, baby?” His voice his strained, as if he’s struggling not to lose his mind as well.

Nodding because you can’t make out a word as he slowly pulls out, you grab his face and pull him up to meet your lips. You whimper into him mouth when he rams into you again, hitting your walls in full force, no mercy. His kiss doesn’t lose its sincerity despite the juxtaposition of his vigorous thrusts, though you can’t say that he is quite as gentle with as before. You pinch his bottom lip between your teeth, sucking on it as your fingers get lost in his hair.

After seven days of deprevation of his cock, your cunt is leaking with the fluid of your arousal, aiding in the ease of each plunge. You feel the stiffness of his ridges pulling you open as he slides in and out of you. “Fuck…” He pants, mouth hovering over yours.

“Let me get on top.” Taehyung’s eyes flash at your suggestion, instantly rolling onto his back. He slips out during the switch of position and the wetness of your cunt is assailed by a sudden rush of cool air.

You swing your leg over and mount him, watching him watch you pump his dick, your own liquid slathered over him sticky in your hand. Letting his member fall against his abdomen, you grind over him between your folds, hands splayed out over his chest. The friction created each time your clit would slide over the thin pinch of skin where his tip unfolded into his shaft has Taehyung a groaning mess.

He looks remarkable under you.

You push his sweat-dampened curls out of his forehead, eyes half closed in euphoria, half watching you roll your cunt so lewdly over his length. You know you could make him cum like this if you continue. But you want him to cum inside you first, you want to feel that thick hot spurt of his desire shoot again and again into you until his cock is twitching.

So slowly, lubricated by your wetness, you sink inch by inch down until the skin of your ass meets his thighs. This angle fuck with your mind; you think you feel him at your cervix. Then your hips start to do what they know best, pounding over him with a rhythm that you’re proud of.

Taehyung grabs hold of your waist, your breasts, fury in his eyes as he watches you ride him with such determination. “I love you so much.” He heaves between heavy breaths.

“I love you, I missed you more than you could imagine.” You huff, thumb running over his red swollen lips.

“I love when you admit it.” He sits up and takes the swell of your breast in his mouth, making his way to your nipples where his tongue relentlessly flickers over.

Your thighs are starting to burn, core aching because his cock is thrusting up into you so deep that you feel it in your guts. The signs are appearing - your vision is going hazy, walls squeezing tightly around him, tangle upon tangles knoting in your stomach. His are too - his head is slumped against your chest, arms crossed behind your back as he holds you close to him, whole body starting to tense as he begins to curse.

Pace quickening, you don’t let the tire of your muscles stop you from your chase. The slap of your skins ringing in your ears, you keep riding, cunt swallowing his cock whole each bounce. Taehyung breaks first. “Fuck!” He calls out into your neck. His cum squirts into you, pulse after pulse, your boyfriend’s hips jolting each thrust.

“I’m so close, babe, keep going for me.” You plead, knowing how sensitive he is right after his climax. He nods wordlessly, face still buried in you hair. The lubrication of his cum abolishes any resistance, letting you slide over him easier than sitting down. And not five thrusts later, your own coil snaps. You through your head back at the wave of pleasure that drowns you, your entire core on fire as your moans echo through the room. It takes maybe twenty seconds for your walls to stop throbbing and for the orgasm to slowly die down.

Taehyung is already growing limp inside you after his orgasm. “Thank you.” You whisper against his forehead while you dismount. His cum flows out of your slit and down the insides of your thighs, but he refuses to let go of you.

When he looks up, you are struck by an overwhelming sensationf of adoration. His long dark curls fall slightly over his eyes, in disarray but just the way you like it. His eyes are so full of genuine love and gratitude of having you that you can’t help but capture him with your lips. “No, thank you.” He mumbles against you, falling back onto the couch with you in his embrace.

After a long kiss of after-sex affection, you pull away before it leads to a second round. “I want you to know that I really missed you a lot. I can’t even call you a big baby anymore because I stared at all the pictures you sent me every night till the sun came out.”

Taehyung’s boyish smile melts your heart. You’ve missed him way too much. His smile, his goofy comments, his tender kisses. “My heart… is squeezing…” If his smile doesn’t tell how smitten he is, his eyes definitely do. “I missed you so much too. All the boys made fun of me for being such a wettie ‘coz I couldn’t shut up about you.” The thought is so endearing that you can’t help but hide your face.

“So how was your trip? Plenty of hot girls drooling after you?” Trick question of course, you know that for a fact already.

“Haha, it was good, fun. Bet you couldn’t sleep ‘coz you were trembling from jealousy.” Scoffing you land a smack on his chest. “But nah, no hot girls. Nowadays there’s only one hot girl in my eyes.”

Your own lips spread like a cheshire cat. “Shut up, cutie.”

“Rachel McAdams.”

“Let go of me. Don’t even touch me.”

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A/N: Moral of the story, never sit on their couch if you’re a guest at the Heatwave house.

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24/08/20

© Copyright 2020

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[wizkiddx]

was thinking for toms most recent ig story it sounds like hes working out early everyday, what if u did a blurb where the reader does it with his and its like best friend --> something else ? sounded like a you type of story, id love if you gave it a go ❤️💕

oohkay so sorry this lit just came through this evening and I suddenly got v stupidly into it (if u put in a req before that I promise I am working on it I just got way to invested cos this is stupidly cute) xxxx

summary: what starts off as tom taking you under his wing and some sunrise workouts together might just develop into something more

“It shouldn’t be legal…. to be doing anything… this fucking early!” Spoken, well yelled, in between the fake strokes of the exercise bike and your pants. All you got in response was the two men laughing at you, no sign of sympathy at all, as your gritted your teeth - fighting against every body instinct to stop the movements. Your heart was pumping like the clappers; breathing shallow and rushed and your arms… your arms felt like they were about to fall off. Combine that with the lack of sleep from waking up before the sun did at 5 am - meant you felt like your were in literal hell.  

Why ever you’d agreed to do these workouts with Tom and Duffy escaped you. Being the new and rising actress, with a new supporting role in the next Spiderman, meant you’d spent a lot of time with Tom over the past few weeks. Not to inflate his ego either, but Tom had been a real life hero to you. See, you were the complete opposite of his experienced and seasoned professionalism - this was your first acting gig. And what a gig it was, the second biggest part in a Marvel movie. You never really believed you’d get the part and even when you did, were pretty sure it was some elaborate joke, where Ant and Dec were going to jump out from some corner and go ‘ha its a prank!’ or something. 

Yet somehow it was all still happening, you had been flown halfway across the world to spend three months alone on a film set. Well obviously not alone, but you knew no one - you were a complete outsider. That, really, was the reason you’d agreed to do these sessions with Tom. He’d offered half heartedly while between takes as you were moaning about how out of breath you got in that scene. At that point, you’d only known each other for a matter of weeks, he really hadn’t expected you to commit to 5 am each and every morning. What he wasn’t aware of though, was how ocmplerly stranded and lonely you felt here, hence why you jumped at his offer. 

And yes you loved to moan and complain when you were there, however you were also so incredibly thankful he ever offered. Duffy, Tom’s PT, was a right laugh too and he took great joy in torturing you - and was also entertained by the new and inventive ways you’d insult him after he ordered you about. 

“Come on Y/n, 200m more and then we are done, even your little arms can survive that.”

“Really … not the encouragement… I was looking for.” Still panting, face bright red and blotchy as you pressed your legs straight again.

“Tom? You wanna help Y/n out?” 

“Nah you know… kind of enjoying seeing her in pain.” The British voice laughed from somewhere behind you, making you roll your eyes.

“Why the hell… are you not… torturing him?” He sounded way to comfortable and relaxed to be working hard. 

“He’s got a stunt heavy day today so wanted to go easy this morning.”

Now that was a bloody joke. You were BOTH filming the SAME scene today, doing the SAME stunts. 

“Did I forget to mention Y/n is on set too?” The joy in Tom’s voice made you want to do horrible things to him. Even though you felt like you wanted to collapse on the floor, you’d happily do a set or two on a punch bag right now - if that punch bag was Tom’s face. 

Before you could hurl some fresh abuse at your costar, Duffy called time on the rowing machine, turning the display off and passing your water bottle over as you slouched on the slidey seat. 

“Done good Y/n/n, I am actually super impressed with your progress” The stocky man patted you on the back genuinely, bringing a bit of smile to your otherwise grimacing face. He went over the chat to Tom about some boy shit that you couldn’t care less about, allowing you a couple minutes to get your breath back. As soon as you did and tried to dismount the machine of death, your ruined legs seemed to have other plans, shakily buckling so you ended up starfished on the floor, groaning at the dull ache that came with the sudden movement. 

And what show of concern did Duffy show you? A belly laugh that echoed round Toms indoor gym making you groan again, throwing your forearm over your eyes. It was in fact the curly haired brunette, who came and knelt by your side, wordlessly balling up the towel and placing it under your head as you shot your eyes open in shock. 

“You okay? Sorry… I might’ve taken our friendly competition a bit too far.”

“I just… just might have to gain the power of flight this afternoon cos my legs aren’t gonna bloody work.” Tom chuckled and shook his head at your dry humour. 

“Oh I’m sure we can talk to Jon and get that arranged… not like Marvel don’t spend years crafting the script and storyline for a newbie actor to change it all.”

“Might I remind you… they wouldn’t have to if your weren’t such a dickhead!” You exclaimed, sitting up and staring at him with an exasperated look than only made him burst out laughing again. 

“I’m sorry I’m sorry… I just cant take you seriously when you look like such a tomato!” His voice went an octave higher as he laughed at himself, the situation getting even worse for you when you heard Duffy join in too. 

The boy was bloody lucky you couldn’t lift your arms right now, otherwise they’s almost certainly be attempting to ruin his pretty boy face. 

/////////////////////////////

After a long day of shooting you and Tom were in one of the set buggies, being taken back to your trailers to change for the evening. There was a peaceful silence until Tom ruined it yet again.

“ Got any fancy plans for this evening then?”

“Well you know me, back to my lonely little old place and  frozen pizza - so living the movie star life.” 

“It’s a Friday! You not going out with your team or anything?” He sounded so bemused at your quiet plans, and mention of a ‘team’ had you cocking your head to the side. 

“‘My team?’ Tom until I get my movie star pay check I can barely afford my pizzas, never mind a whole persons wage.” You were still only three weeks into filming and although you spent an hour every other morning sweating your ass off with Tom - apart from that you’d tried not to impose yourself on him too much. You didnt want to look clingy and naturally Tom always had a mountain of people vying for his attention - you would go to the back of a long line. So honestly, you were still a bit of a mystery to him, right now you’d both only scratched the surface on each other. 

“Really? I know this is your first big job but I thought you’d have someone here?” 

“Nah… I mean I’ve kinda clung to the Marty on the camera crew but he’s going to see family tonight sooo.”

“Come back to mine. I’ve swapped Harry for his twin Sam, which is a bit of an upgrade cos Sam’s a chef. He just arrived last night. I bet he can one up any pizza you were planning on.”

“Honestly I don’t want to impose, sorry I didnt mean for this to be a pity party or-“ The buggy slowed to a stop and Tom instantly vaulted out of it, standing right infront of you and blocking you exist off the back sofa. Both of you were still in costume, Tom in latex and you in your corset-esque two piece, but then both wrapped in matching long line black jackets supplied by set. 

“No come on I’m serious… Sam’s dying to meet you and it’d be good to spend more time together. You know, cos of chemistry and all.” The last bit was a switch from his cool and smooth, normally easy going tone - into something a bit more… anxious? Just like that, before your brain even knew what it was doing, you agreed, smiling broadly and nodding. 

So barely an hour later, you were knocking on the doors to Tom’s mansion-ish rented Atlanta home which was much much more grand than what the studio had arranged for you. Even though you were here most mornings, this time it felt different. Yeh it was stupid, but you can’t help the way you feel and you were stressed. For no real reason… just, just because. 

Thankfully, it wasn’t awkward at all  and you especially instantly hit it off with his younger brother Sam. Everything just felt easy and simple which meant so much more considering you’d felt so isolated an alone halfway across the world for your home comforts. Being British too, simply chatting to the two young men about your hometown and growing up was just so familiar, it really helped you feel less homesick.  Naturally too,  you’d fallen into a casual and friendly ribbing of Tom with Sam, making the three of you spend to majority of the evening cracking up (or in Tom’s case pouting at the abuse). It was a nice change from the two on one attack you got from Tom and Duffy that morning. You’d all cooked dinner together… well no, you and Tom had stood idly watching Sam cook an amazing chicken curry dish - which he promised to give you the recipe too. Honestly Sam felt like your long lost best friend, especially when it came to your shared ability to berate Tom for anything and everything. 

About an hour ago Tom had stuck on the film, effectively shutting up you and Sam - thankfully for him since Sam was just about to get to some rather embarrassing stories of Tom as a kid. You and Tom were on the longer grey sofa; with Sam sat  the other side of the coffee table in an impressively soft armchair - looking as though it was swallowing the lanky boy. The calm, the silence and the comfort was only going to go one way for you though. After your workout this morning, plus all the running and jumping during the shoot,  after what had already been a pretty intense week, it was hardly surprising that you didn’t even notice yourself drifting off the sleep. 

Who did notice though? Perhaps your brown haired costar who’d been stealing glances across to you ever since the movie had been put on? Because as much as he hated to admit it to himself, this didnt seem to be panning out as a normal job. A normal job is something you put your all into, for a couple weeks, and then leave with good memories and a good pay check. Yes, he had only known your for a matter of weeks or so but it already seemed to be unfathomable to cut ties with you. How would he go without your kind mannered abuse everyday? You were just refreshing, new and mysterious. And Tom was more than intrigued, his interest was peaked. 

And it was stupid to feel like that…. Of course it was. You can’t fancy a colleague because things get complicated and awkward. Tom knew that. 

Then why was he now delicately draping a blanket over your frame and smiling smally when you hummed in your sleep, in what seemed to be a show of appreciation for the layer of warmth? 

Because you were his excited puppy of a costar who is giving everything she has for the job? Because he is worried and wants to look after you? Because he cares? 

No matter why, in that moment you were contented and as was Tom. Oh and Sam? 

Sam saw the tell tale signs in his brother. He saw the way Tom had been touching your arm or the small of your back just a little more than what would be considered normal while he’d been cooking. He’d seen the way Tom had been laughing purely because you had. His eldest brother never did anything rash, it was always a painfully slow process for everyone involved. But Sam thought this just might be the start of something. The start of a slow burn.

[hockeylvr59]

Collide Part 2 || Sidney Crosby

Summary: Life as a single foster mom and a pediatrician didn’t leave much time for dating. But when Dr. Erin Lancaster becomes the pediatrician for Pittsburgh Penguins Defenseman Brian Dumoulin's baby boy, her association and quick friendship with his wife Kayla turns her crazy but quiet life upside down. 

Requested: [ ] yes [x] no

Authors Note: Apparently my brain is just on a Sid kick lately. First a blurb update, now this one. Let me know what you think. 

Warnings: alcohol consumption        Word Count: 2,001

~~~~~

The weeks leading up to the holiday season were usually some of the best as a foster mom. The kids that I called my own, even temporarily, generally didn’t have a great experience with family holidays in the past and it was always exciting to teach them the magic of the season. The joy of watching the Macy’s parade and then football before having a big meal, going looking at Christmas lights, and everything else that filled the days between Thanksgiving and Christmas. 

This year though, this year was tough. A few weeks ago, just days after my trip to the hospital, the seven year old I was fostering was moved to another placement. More biological siblings had popped up in the system and taking them would have placed me over my permitted limit. So instead, the rambunctious boy I was finally starting to make strides with was moved so that he could be with siblings he had never met, all because of the preference of keeping siblings together. A week later, my five year old was transferred back into the care of his mother who had successfully completed a rehabilitation program. I wasn’t sure the woman could be trusted but the court had decided she was fit enough to regain custody and there was nothing I could do about it. 

Finally, yesterday, my newborn had been deemed stable enough to be placed with a paternal grandmother now that he was completely off the drugs. I had done my limited job of making sure that he got elevated care and now he was in the placement I knew he’d end up in all along. 

It was the weekend before Thanksgiving and for the first time in a long time I didn’t have any kids under my roof. Honestly, I couldn’t remember the last time I didn’t have any kids placed with me, it had been that long. Yesterday, it had been easy enough to ignore, I went into the office to catch up on paperwork, I picked up dry cleaning and went grocery shopping before drinking half a bottle of wine and falling into bed exhausted. 

Today though, things were quiet and now that the world had stilled around me, my normally thick exterior cracked and I found myself sobbing steadily. I loved being a foster mom, I really did, but it was heartbreaking to know that these kids would never be mine for one reason or another. That while most days my house was full of laughter and as much love as these kids could manage, days like today would always be waiting at the end of it all. 

While drowning my sorrows with a pint of ice cream I definitely didn’t need to be eating at 11am, my phone buzzed beside me with a message from Kayla Dumoulin. She had texted more than once over the past few weeks with worries such as whether Brayden’s cord was healing normally and whether she could cut his nails because he didn’t like the mittens but she didn’t want him to cut himself. Through our text conversations she had learned of my rapidly emptying house and her message this morning was just to check in and see how I was doing. 

She was such a sweetheart and I replied with a shrug emoji declaring that if sobbing over a pint of ice cream at 11am was normal then I was doing just fine. The phone rang a moment later and I sighed seeing her name pop up because the message wasn’t intended to make her feel guilty or anything, it was just genuine honesty. Still, I answered the phone, setting the pint of ice cream aside for a moment. 

“It sounds like you need some baby cuddles.” Kayla stated, the sound of soft chatter coming through the line. “Why don’t you come over. Brayden wouldn’t mind seeing his favorite doctor.” She suggested. 

“That’s sweet but I’ll be okay.” I assured her. “I don’t want to impose. I’m sure I can find something to do.” 

“You’re not imposing.” Kayla insisted. “Me texting you at 2am with a breastfeeding question was imposing.” Her voice was teasing and I sighed softly remembering being up with my own newborn when she had a question about hers since Brian was on the road. 

“Seriously.” She continued. “Come over, snuggle Brayden, and give my husband a second opinion on this bottle of wine he just got since I can’t drink.” She suggested. Sensing that she truly meant it, I sighed and agreed reluctantly telling her to send me the address. 

____

45 minutes later, I had cleaned myself up so it didn’t look like I had spent the last few hours sobbing. After putting on some light makeup, I had thrown on some black jeans, a striped long sleeve tee, and a tan pullover before deeming myself decent enough to head out. 

Plugging the address in my phone’s gps, I drove over to Kayla and Brian’s neighborhood, parking down on the street in front of their house. It didn’t even register that there were approximately a half dozen cars spread between the driveway and the street already as I made my way up to the front door. 

Kayla greeted me after just a minute and I gently teased that if I didn’t know better I wouldn’t believe she just had a baby as she let me inside. That made her smile, and as she guided me to the kitchen for a glass of wine I realized that there was a significant amount of noise coming from the living room. It wasn’t until she was murmuring for me to make myself comfortable that I realized the living room was occupied by almost a dozen Penguins players, football pregame on tv. 

“Alright Muzz, you can give my baby back now.” Kayla declared half-joking, half-serious. As soon as the goalie handed the baby over, Kayla was crossing the room back to me and handing off the little boy who just snuggled into my chest as soon as he was placed there. “There...baby snuggles.” She murmured. 

“Thanks.” I whispered, resting a hand over the infant’s back before taking a sip of wine feeling slightly uncomfortable as eyes slowly landed on me. 

“Hey doc.” Brian greeted appearing from somewhere else in the house. “Let me know what you think of that wine, not sure if this brand is a keeper or not.” He stated simply portraying the feeling that I wasn’t at all anywhere I didn’t belong and that this was a normal occurrence. Nodding I promised to do so before just focusing back on the baby in my arms. The physician portion of my brain noted that he was doing well and had certainly been growing while the rest of me just found myself relaxing at the feeling of a baby’s steady breaths. 

Most of the guys paid me no mind as the game started. Yet I felt one pair of eyes linger. As I stepped outside after handing Brayden off to feed just before halftime, a four legged companion joined me and I chuckled petting the Dumoulin’s dog Roo while sitting on the steps of their patio nursing my second glass of wine. 

The patio door slid open and then shut before a body slid down next to me on the steps. 

“So where are your foster kids?” A familiar voice asked and glancing over my eyes met those of the Penguins Captain. 

“With another foster family, with their mother, and with their paternal grandmother.” I whispered, quickly taking another sip of the wine to try and push back another round of tears. “The sucky thing about being a foster mom is they always go away in the end.” 

“I...I didn’t know.” Sid mumbled after a moment and I waved him off petting Roo and wiping at my eye with the back of my hand. 

“I didn’t expect you to.” I stated simply. 

“So that’s why…” Sid trailed off, stopping when I nodded. 

“Baby cuddles to try and make everything better.” I shrugged. “To fill the three new cracks in my heart. It’s been a long time since I was childless.” I whispered. “I’ve been trying to recall when it was and I honestly can’t remember. I feel like it had to have happened at least a few times but I really can’t recall not having anyone since I became a foster mom in the first place.” 

“How long is that?” Sid asked, tone softer now than it had been that day at the hospital. 

“Two...almost three years. I applied to become a foster parent toward the end of my residency.” 

“Can I ask how many?” Sid questioned. 

“36.” 

“In three years? That’s...wow.” Glancing over I could see the genuine shock on his face. 

“I don’t know what the turnover rate is generally but I’m fairly certain my rate is higher than average. I get a lot of the drug addicted babies because of my skills and they’re generally only with me 2-3 weeks until it’s safe to move them into a more permanent placement, often with other family members.” 

“How do you handle that?” He murmured, reaching down to pet Roo as well who had rolled over onto her back for belly rubs. 

“Usually I just focus on my patients, on the kids that I do still have with me because they deserve all of my love and attention. This time? Crying over Ben and Jerry’s at 11am until Kayla insisted I come over.” A smile cracked Sid’s face and he apologized quickly declaring that this isn’t something to smile about. 

“No it’s okay. You can find it amusing, I know it wasn’t the most healthy coping method.” 

“Are you going to be okay?” He inquires softly. 

“Yeah. Well, I should probably lay off the wine. Dumo has really good taste.” Sid’s eyes crinkled a little bit and he looked at me like be serious. “I will be. I mean it’s only a matter of time before I get the call that another child needs me.” I assured him. “I just...sometimes...days like this...they make me wonder whether I still want to do this, you know…” 

“Go on…” Sid urged. 

“I just...it’s so hard. Never knowing whether I’m going to wake up and have to say goodbye again. Constantly giving away pieces of my heart that I’ll never get back. Days like today make me just want to be a mom. Not a foster mom but a mom. To have my own kids who won’t be there one day and gone the next.” 

“I get that feeling.” Sid murmured after a moment. “Not the ‘here one day gone the next’ part, but uh, wanting your own kids part, that I get.” He rubbed the back of his neck as he spoke before dropping his hand back down to pet Roo, his fingers brushing against mine. Immediately my mind flashed back to the feeling of his hand wrapped around mine and I quickly pushed that aside. 

“There you are!” Kayla exclaimed, popping her head out the door, her eyes shifting back and forth between you and Sid and noting how close you were sitting. “We just put out some food if you’re hungry and want something other than ice cream.” She grinned, dipping back inside looking like she was about to burst with what she just saw even if it was absolutely nothing. 

When Sid stood he offered a hand out to help you up, murmuring for Roo to come inside and he’d see if he could find her a treat. The bulldog was eager for that and followed after him as you brushed yourself off and picked your wine glass up moving to rejoin the group. 

Ridding of your buzz with some food and water and more baby snuggles you finally headed home with the feeling that there was something more to your conversation with Sid that you hadn’t put your finger on.

Outfit: 

[seokiie]

𝚁𝚎𝚍𝚘𝚕𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎 (𝙼)

+ 𝘚𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺: 𝘏𝘰𝘴𝘦𝘰𝘬’𝘴 𝘤𝘭𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘴 𝘬𝘦𝘦𝘱 𝘨𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨. 𝘠𝘰𝘶’𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘰𝘯 𝘭𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘢𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘴𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘮𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵’𝘴 𝘨𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘯, 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵?

+𝘞𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵: 7𝘬

+ 𝘗𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨: 𝘏𝘰𝘴𝘦𝘰𝘬/𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

+ 𝘞𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴: 𝘶𝘯𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘴𝘦𝘹, 𝘷𝘰𝘺𝘦𝘶𝘳𝘪𝘴𝘮, 𝘴𝘤𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘬, 𝘨𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘏𝘰𝘴𝘦𝘰𝘬 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘢 𝘧𝘢𝘵 𝘤𝘰𝘤𝘬 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘦 𝘢𝘭𝘴𝘰 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘶𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦𝘭𝘺 𝘣𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘳𝘴

𝗪𝗿𝗶𝘁𝘁𝗲𝗻 𝗳𝗼𝗿 @gracieinworldofhope 𝗱(^_^𝗼)

On AO3

~

You and Hoseok have been roommates for.. for...

"Hoseok, how long have we been living together?" You look up at a sweaty Hoseok from your spot on the couch.

"I don't know, uh, maybe a year and a half?" Hoseok puts on a thinking face despite the fact that he was doing stretches in the middle of the living room. You nod.

You and Hoseok have been roommates for a year and a half.

Your parents were pretty against you living with a guy you weren't planning on dating or marrying, but you didn't really care. You needed someone to split rent with and Hoseok was your only longterm, financially trustable friend you had.

Recently, you'd gotten a well-paying job and you didn't need Hoseok as a roommate anymore, but you weren't gonna tell him that. By him staying as your roommate, you're able to save up some extra money and even-

Yeah, no. That's not why you wanted to keep Hoseok as your roommate.

To be completely honest, you've kind of grown attached to the friendly company and it feels so good being able to come home to someone.

And he smells so good.

You'd never admit that last part though.

Hoseok works as a dance choreographer. He's not famous or anything but he's fairly well known. So he's always stretching or dancing or practicing in the middle of the living room. When you first moved in, you really couldn't stand being in the same room as him when he practiced because he'd be all sweaty and wet and he smelled weird.

You really changed from back then.

You're not really sure what chemical imbalance in your brain was suddenly making you think Jung Hoseok was attractive. Well, he was attractive, always has been, but never in a way other than in a best friend sort of way.

"Hobi, don't- don't hug me after you exercise." His chest is so hard. his hands are so veiny. He smells so fucking good. Why does he smell so good?

"You're a lot different from when we first moved in together. You use to push me away, now you just get all flustered and cute." Hoseok's voice is breathless in your ear as he holds you in an awfully intimate back hug, your feet raising from the floor. You whine, struggling in his grasp.

"Put me down, Hoseokkk!" Don't put me down. Push me against the couch. Fuck me. Break me.

"As you wish." Hoseok laughs as he tosses you (not so gently) back onto the couch. "I'm gonna take a quick shower. Can you warm up the takeout in the fridge so we can eat?"

You give him a sound of approval and watch as he speeds down the hall and into the shared bathroom.

Hoseok had taken you out last night since you'd gotten a promotion. He bought you Chinese food then took you to a karaoke place that you've never heard of. Apparently renting private karaoke rooms was expensive, but he did it anyway. Thinking back on it, you two must've gotten some weird looks because why else do two people go out and do karaoke... alone. You try not to dwell on that too much and shove the beef low mien into the microwave.

You jump up to sit on the kitchen counter, watching the container spin around in the microwave. As the time ticks down from three minutes, you find yourself thinking about your roommate. You use to chastise yourself for daydreaming about Hoseok, especially if it was in any way... sexual, but these days you find yourself giving in to the thoughts. The thoughts about Hoseok in the shower. The thoughts about his hands gliding over his lean body as water poured over him.

You bite your lip and cross your legs. You were delving into an area of your mind that you didn't dare touch unless it was the late hours of the night. Regardless, you can't help wondering if Hoseok has ever touched himself while he was in the shower. You can't help wondering what he'd look like touching himself in the shower.

After living with him for so long, it would be a lie to say you haven't seen everything. To be honest, if you had to make a list of all the times you two have been exposed to each other, it would be abnormally long. There was that one time in college when you, him, and some mutual friends went skinny dipping. That was actually the first time you two met and the circumstances were a bit weird.

Then there was that time after he had just moved in, you walked in on him peeing. You couldn't help getting a quick look before fleeing the bathroom with a meek 'sorry'. And there was that time you thought you were home alone so you walked around in a big shirt, nothing underneath. Hoseok walked out of his room and got an eyeful.

So you didn't have to imagine what Hoseok's dick looked like.

You already knew full well.

You squeeze your thighs together in an attempt to relieve some of the tension and let out a quiet sigh. Then you make the mistake of imagining Hoseok coming all over his hands and the shower walls. The way his thighs would tremble slightly and the way his face would twist in pleasure. You like to think the face Hoseok makes when he comes is the same face he makes while dancing. Focused, lips between his teeth, chin tilted up, and hair stuck to his forehead. You almost find yourself snaking a hand between your legs when a door slamming and a loud voice snaps you out of your thoughts.

"Aishhhh, what are you doing? The microwave stopped how long ago and you're just sitting here staring at nothing." Hoseok gives you a raised eyebrow expression, humoring you slightly. "Kinda reminds me of Jungkookie, to be honest."

You uncross your legs and let out a cough that only seems awkward to you as Hoseok opens the microwave and takes out the container of food.

"Let's watch a movie and eat."

^^

Tonight is Friday so its Hoseok's turn to pick the movie.

He picked Wall-E.

Again.

He's made you watch it with him so many times that you think you have the script partially memorized. After bitching about it several times and seeing as he had no intention of changing the movie, you figured you might as well enjoy it the best you can.

"Aren't you cold? You're not under the blanket." The lights were all off except for the faint red LEDs you and him spent hours putting up a few weeks ago. The TV hummed with the familiar Pixar intro theme and the various snacks on the coffee table before you seemed to set the mood perfectly.

"I'm not cold, actually. I feel quite warm." You offer him a slow blink and a smile before turning your attention back to the TV. You were never one to refuse Hoseok's cuddles but you were feeling a little pent up and having him wrapped around you, his scent everywhere, especially after a shower, didn't seem like a bright idea.

"But I'm cold." You can hear the pout in his voice and you roll your eyes. Tempting, but no.

"If you're not in my arms within the next five seconds, I'll have no choice but to use force." Mock authority radiated from his voice and even if it wasn't real, the dominance in his tone made you want to scurry over to his lap and obey. Extremely tempting, but no.

"Five."

"You're not seriously counting right now."

"Four."

"Oh my fucking god, you're kidding me."

"Three."

"Hoseok, you're not my dad. You can't just-"

"Two. If you don't get over here I might have to get the belt." You almost choke at that. His attempt at a joke had somehow managed to make your whole body heat up.

"I- okay, stop, you- I'll cuddle with you, just... relax." That 'relax' was more directed at you than at him. A dimple-full smile graces his face as he opens his arms and pats the spot on his thighs. Very inviting of him.

"Ooh, goo goo! Look at the little baby all warm in daddy's arms!" Hoseok wraps his arms around your waist and pulls your back flush against his chest. If your thoughts weren't dangerous before, they were dangerous now.

"Don't say things like that, weirdo. Pay attention to the movie." Hoseok gives a disgruntled 'okay, okay' before relaxing with you on his lap.

At first, you're a bit hyperaware of the situation. You're sitting in Hoseok's lap and if you press your hips down just right...

No. You stop yourself there.

Hoseok smelled amazing, too. He usually smelled sweet, like artificially flavored candy. But you especially loved how he smelt after a shower because of his natural scent mixed with the rough yet refined fragrance of his body wash. Mm, you could breathe him in all day.

The movie continues fine from there. You respond how you usually do, laughing at the funny parts and whining at the sad parts. Around halfway through, though, you notice Hoseok is kind of shifting under you. You ignored it at first thinking he was trying to get comfy but the shifting has gone on for so long now that you think your ass bones are making him uncomfortable.

"Should I get up? I bet you can barely feel your legs right now." You lean your head back on his shoulder, tossing some caramelized popcorn into your mouth.

"H-huh?" His eyes go a bit wide like you'd caught him doing something he shouldn't. You make a confused face back.

"You keep shifting. If you're uncomfortable we can go back to how we normally cuddle?" Hoseok looks like he honestly contemplates it before opening his legs wider so you were sitting between his legs and keeping his arms wrapped around you.

"No, uh... no. I like having you like this. I mean, It's good. You're not making me uncomfortable." The exact opposite. You laugh then shift your focus back to the movie.

"If you're so sure."

When you wake up, the room is noticeably brighter and you're laying across the whole couch, a thin blanket covering your body. You rub the sleep and the crust out of your eyes before grabbing your phone off the coffee table.

It was 12 pm.

You toss your phone onto the floor and let out an annoyed groan. Not only did you miss your whole entire morning but your neck was a bit sore from sleeping on the couch. Hoseok had obviously meant well by putting a blanket over you while you slept but he couldn't at least carry you to your room? Well, you figure you shouldn't complain, it was a nice gesture.

You start to clean up the living room, tossing the empty cans and bags of chips in the trash before picking up the blanket that you left jumbled up on the couch.

"Hm. This isn't mine." You comment to no one but yourself as you play with the colorful throw in your hands. The only other person who lived here was Hoseok so it must be his.

You look down the hall at Hoseok's room. His door is open which usually meant he was either feeling very inviting or he was at work. Looking at the time, it was probably the latter. He won't be back till around six depending how long dance practice runs. You had the whole apartment to yourself today.

You peak through the open door just to make sure you were right and sure enough, you were. Hoseok's bed was empty, made neatly and tucked in the corner of his room. His window was open, a slight breeze wafting in and blowing his sheer curtains almost dramatically as you walked inside.

You plop yourself down on his bed, his blanket still in your arms. You'd only been in Hoseok's room a total of maybe nine times over the past year or so and most if not all of those times, Hoseok was there, too.

As you're sitting on his bed, you find yourself bringing his blanket up to your nose. You swear you don't do it on purpose, it was almost like an instinct. You inhale slightly, just to get a quick sniff and fuck. Yeah. That's definitely Hoseok's blanket.

You inhale deeper, this time letting out a quiet moan as you exhale. There were a few hints of yourself but that was understandable. You'd been sleeping in it for who knows how long. But besides that, you could clearly smell Hoseok's ambrosial scent.

As you lay back on his bed, you wonder why you're so easily affected by how he smells. It's a little weird to you but you can't help the way your body reacts when you breathe him in.

"Hoseok..." What are those things called..? Pheromones! Maybe Hoseok just has some crazy pheromones that are making you lose your head. That seems to be the most reasonable conclusion you can think of as you snake your hand down your belly and past the waistband of your shorts.

Were you seriously going to touch yourself in your roommate's room while smelling his blanket?

To be completely honest your mind was so clouded you genuinely couldn't see any problem with that.

You graze two of your fingers over your clit, a ripple of pleasure and relief washing over your body as you practically smothered yourself with the blanket. You've been pent up so long. When was the last time you touched yourself?

It doesn't take much to get you going. All you have to think about is Hoseok and you're already soaking. Hoseok after practice, Hoseok working out, Hoseok's face when he dances, Hoseok, Hoseok, Hoseok. You have a slight feeling saying his name any more than you already have might make him appear.

"Y/n? I'm back."

Wait, what..?

You pull your hands out of your shorts almost immediately, wiping the slick on your fingers on the blanket before throwing it back on the bed. You stand up just in time to see a familiar figure lean against the door frame.

"What are you doing in my room?" Hoseok crosses his arms and raises an eyebrow. There wasn't a hint of knowing in his voice and you relax a bit at that.

"Nothing, er... I was returning your blanket." You point to the jumbled fabric on the bed before making your way to the door. If you didn't leave now he was going to catch on.

As you're about to squeeze past him and make your escape, his arm blocks your path. He was taking up the whole doorway now. Great.

"Are you feeling okay? You're kinda sweaty. Do you have a fever?" Hoseok's hand moves to your forehead and you scramble to push the hand away. "You feel warm, too. Should I make you porridge?"

"I'm fine. I'm just- the apartment is just kinda hot." You chastise yourself for the awkward laugh you let out and it's obvious that Hoseok doesn't buy it. Regardless, he moves his arm so you can walk out of the room.

"Hey, wait..." You barely make it down the hall before Hoseok is grabbing your wrist and stopping you in your tracks. Just as you were about to celebrate your small victory of not getting caught, too.

"I need help packing away the groceries."

^^

"So you were out buying groceries?"

"Yeah..? What did you think I was doing?" Hoseok pulls out a gallon of milk and a few cartons of juice from a shopping bag before placing them on the kitchen counter.

"I thought you were at practice. I didn't think... you'd be back so soon." You look down slightly, avoiding eye contact as you take the produce from the counter and organize them inside the fridge. You could clearly feel Hoseok's eyes on you but you didn't dare look.

"Pfft, is that why you were so shocked when I found you in my room? You weren't really returning that blanket were you?" He said it in a joking manner but you're shocked that he caught on so quickly. You say nothing in response.

Just as you're about to put a carton of eggs into the fridge, Hoseok closes the door and spins you around, effectively pushing you back against the fridge door. The eggs you were holding slip out of your hands but that's the least of your worries. At the moment, Hoseok had you pushed against the fridge, his arms caging you in like you were in an anime. Seriously?

"You know, while I was taking Japanese in college, I learned that pushing someone against a wall like this is called 'kabedon'. I've always wanted to try it." He's so fucking close. Way too fucking close. His lips were mere inches away from yours and if he took one step closer, his hips would connect with yours.

"All of a sudden? I- you- why-" The words you wanted to say fizzle out of your head as you watch Hoseok's eyes drop to your lips as you stutter. He was definitely doing this shit on purpose. He loved seeing you flustered.

"What were you really doing in my room?" A smirk graces his lips when he sees you tilt your head down. In the most platonic way ever, he relished in the feeling of watching you submit to him.

"You- what- what are you thinking!" It was barely a question. Your mind flashes with images of what Hoseok could do to you in this position and you feel your body getting hotter (if that was even possible). You're pretty sure if you let this go on any longer you'd start panting in need. The room is deadly silent before you speak up again.

"The eggs..." You say meekly and Hoseok tilts his head to the side, confused until he looks down at the yellow liquid spilling from the half-opened carton at your feet.

"Oh, shit. Oops..." Sheepishly, Hoseok steps back but you don't move from your spot against the fridge. You felt frozen for a few seconds as you tried to regain the train of thought that Hoseok effortlessly managed to derail. "Ahh, those eggs were expensive, too. It was a 24 pack..."

"Maybe you should've considered that before pushing me against the fridge." You roll your eyes and step over the mess, leaving it for Hoseok to clean up. He simply groans in response and you can't help feeling grateful. Those eggs really just saved your life.

Over the next few days, you find yourself daydreaming about Hoseok a lot. Okay, this was usually normal but you were doing it a lot more often.

And in a lot more inappropriate places.

Just this morning you caught yourself daydreaming about Hoseok while you were at work. You were reviewing some files for corporate when you thought back to the smell of Hoseok's blanket. The scent that was so distinctly him. You imagined what it would be like to tuck your face into his neck while he fucked into you. You're not completely sure when your imagination got so vivid but you could picture everything perfectly behind your eyelids. The slide of his dick inside you, his quiet grunts and moans. He's a dancer, too so you knew his stamina would be out of this world.

That leads you to this evening. You got home from work around six or seven and usually, Hoseok is back by then. He'd usually be sitting on the couch watching some foreign movie or he'd be dancing in the center of the living room. A surge of worry washes through you when you walk inside the apartment and its pitch black.

You flick the lights on and toss your keys and bag onto the kitchen counter before calling his name out into the abyss. No response.

As you walk absentmindedly through the apartment, it finally hits you that you're home alone.

Alone.

By yourself.

Hoseok is gone.

You throw your jacket onto your bed before looking down the hall at Hoseok's room. His door was open. He really was gone.

Almost as if your body had a mind of its own, you find yourself walking towards his room. His door was only a few strides away from yours and you had no chance to rethink what you were about to do.

"He won't mind if I..." You throw open his closet and you're a bit surprised to see how untidy it is compared to his room. Last time you checked, Hoseok really prided himself on being the neat one. On the floor, you find a couple of clothes that had fallen off their hangers. There sits a grey hoodie with little holes in it. You recognize this hoodie. You haven't seen Hoseok wear it in weeks.

Perfect.

He wouldn't mind if you 'borrowed' this hoodie for a bit, would he? You'll give it right back when you're done with it, you promise.

^^

"Dance with me."

"No, Hoseok. I'm busy."

"You're not even doing anything. You're scrolling through TikTok."

"Yeah, important business."

"Can you turn off your phone? Please? Dance with me!"

"Hoseok, you know I can't-" Before you can get the words out, Hoseok is grabbing your arm and dragging you off the couch. Your phone slips out your hands and onto the floor. "Hoseok, don't you dare!"

"You don't have to know how to dance to dance. Just feel the music!" Hoseok spins you around so your facing him. His hands are on your waist as the song playing through the speaker changes. You didn't recognize this song but for some reason it made you feel a little nostalgic. It was a rap song with a slow tempo.

"Literally everyone who knows how to dance says that. Fine, but I'm warning you. I'm a toe stepper." You had a little bit more fight left in you but Hoseok's hands were so warm on your waist and he was pulling you in so close. Your defenses were quickly weakening.

"That's okay. I'll show you. Put your arms here." He puts your arms on his shoulders.

"Move your body like this." His hands move to your hips. With feather-light touches, he guides you to the music.

"It feels awkward." You mumble mostly to yourself. Hoseok pulls you even closer as if to say 'it's okay. It's not awkward to me'.

"If you're embarrassed you can put your head on my shoulder. Here, so you don't have to look up at me." You do as he says and admittedly, you do feel a little less disconcerted.

With the music playing loudly throughout the apartment and Hoseok guiding his hips against yours, you feel like you're dancing with a stranger at the club (even though you've never been to a club).

Oddly enough, it feels really comfortable. Hoseok's holding you and helping you stay in time with the music. Somewhere between the third and fourth song, you find yourself getting a little too comfortable, though. With your nose tucked into Hoseok's neck, you can smell his sinewy scent perfectly. You let out a quiet sigh after inhaling deeply.

Mm, fuck. So good. Why does he smell so good? And he's practically grinding against you, too. You really didn't know how long you could last like this.

You wondered if Hoseok ever danced with other people like this, pulling them in by their waist and pressing his hips against theirs. The way he moved was absolutely sinful and the way he guided your hips, deliberate and slow, was so delicious. Not to mention everytime he pulled you in you could feel something heavy rub against your thigh.

Maybe... maybe it was just his phone.

"Heh, are you okay?" His voice is low in your ear, lower than normal.

"Mmm, huh?" you moan into his neck, forgetting for a moment that the man that has you wrapped around his finger is your friend, your roommate of almost two years.

"You're- you're breathing really hard. Are you okay?" Hoseok's voice is breathy but you miss it over the sound of the music.

"M'fine." You were thoroughly drugged out on his smell, his hips, your mind completely darkened with thoughts of him.

"Ah, y/n. Let's- let's take a break." Hoseok breathes as he pulls you away. The panting and moaning into his neck... yeah, no. If he let this go on any longer, he wouldn't be able to control himself anymore. He was currently sporting a semi and grinding against you was not going to help his situation.

"Yeah... uh, yeah. Let's do that. It's hot." You were burning up inside but without Hoseok's body pressed against yours you felt a lot cooler.

"I'm going to shower." Hoseok says, leaving no room for an awkward silence. That doesn't change the fact that you can't meet his eyes. "Thanks for dancing with me. Let's do it again sometime."

You give him a nod and watch as he walks into the bathroom, closing the door behind him. You're kind of just left standing in the living room now. You guess now would be the best time to go to bed. Yes, you needed to sleep before the embarrassment of what just happened settles in.

As you're walking down the hallway to your room, you just about pass Hoseok's room before stopping and backtracking.

You peak into the room, examining the area. His bed was unmade and the lamp on his desk was on. His laptop was also open but the screen was black. To be completely honest though, you were more interested in the little pile of clothes on his bed. You hold your breath for a second just to hear whether or not the shower was still going. Lucky for you, Hoseok seemed to be taking his time in there.

"This is payback for making me dance with you." You mumble to yourself before picking up a random article of clothing from the crumpled up pile. You don't realize till you uncrumple the item that it's a nightshirt.

The pile on his bed was a pajama set.

If you take the shirt with you, he'll definitely notice somethings missing. You think about putting it back and forgetting you were ever here, but thoughts about Hoseoks hands on your body, the way he smelled when he put your head on his shoulder...

You bring the pajama shirt up to your nose. His scent was strong and you swear your legs almost give out.

There was no more time to think. You heard the water shut off and it didn't take you more than a second to dash out of his room. If anything he'll just think he misplaced his shirt.

Honestly, tonight you would need this shirt more than he would ever know.

^^

Days turned into weeks and weeks turned into months.

Hoseok gets out of bed that morning and stretches a bit before opening his drawer. He didn't have work today but Joon had been texting him constantly trying to get him to go to the studio with him. He figured he can't keep putting it off and a Saturday morning was best spent mixing and mastering. He also heard one of his close friends from college, Yoongi, was going to be there. He was relieved to hear Namjoon still kept up with him, it just gave him another reason to meet them at the studio.

Hoseok looks through his shirt drawer. He wanted to wear his nice black button-up which he'd probably tuck into some ripped up skinny jeans, but that required him to be able to find his black button-up.

Now that he thinks about it, his shirt draw seemed to have a lot less shirts than it did a month ago. At first, he thought he was just misplacing things, which wasn't common for him but he wasn't necessarily perfect. Now that he had a significantly smaller selection of clothes, he felt like he was going crazy.

He lets out a disgruntled sigh before throwing on an old green sweatshirt he found in his closet and stepping out of his room.

Looking to his right, he noticed that your door was still closed. It was almost 11 and you should probably be up by now. He wonders if he should ask if you knew what was going on with his clothes. Maybe your clothes were going missing, too. As he walks towards your room, his phone vibrates in his pocket. It's Namjoon, probably asking if he was on his way.

He gives your door one last look before answering the call and turning the opposite direction to leave the apartment.

Ok, this was seriously starting to get out of hand.

Hoseok had just gotten home from dance practice. He was assigned to a newer idol group and teaching them their first choreography was a little more strenuous and demanding than he'd expected. None-the-less, he still pushed through it and managed to make a good bit of progress. Unfortunately, it left him exhausted, sweaty, and noisome. As soon as he got home, instead of greeting you like he usually did, he threw all his clothes on the ground and got in the shower.

A nice warm shower is exactly what he needed. He'd even say he felt energized after.

As he wrapped a towel around his waist, he noticed something missing from his pile of dirty clothes on the floor. He bent over to sift through the pile, identifying right away what was missing.

His pastel blue Supreme hoodie.

Hoseok wasn't one to get particularly angry, not unless it was warranted. But he could feel himself getting increasingly more frustrated the longer he looked at his dirty clothes. He most definitely was not crazy and his clothes, especially shirts and hoodies, were definitely going missing. This wasn't all in his head.

In nothing but his towel, he swings the bathroom door open and leaves with the full intent to talk to you. He's not completely sure what he wants to say to you. He doesn't want to accuse you of stealing his clothes because that seems a bit presumptuous, but there's no other logical reasoning. Unless someone's been breaking into the apartment and stealing shirts, heh.

He doesn't bother knocking on your door. No matter what you were doing right now, his problem was more important. There was a burglar afoot.

When Hoseok turns the knob and inches your door open, the first thing he notices is that your room is kinda dark despite it being early afternoon. Your curtains were drawn and the fairy lights on your walls were the only source of brightness in the room. The second thing he notices is... you're shifting a lot in your bed and if he looks a little closer-

"Hnng, Hoseok..." It's only after a moan of his name leaves your mouth that he notices the fabric you're holding to your face with one hand.

It's his pastel blue supreme hoodie.

Ok, maybe he was insane.

"Fuck, Hoseok, fuck. Fuck me, aaha..." Hoseok watches you tilt your head back against your pillows. He watches your eyes roll back as you moved your arm faster under your covers. He watches as you breathe in his favorite hoodie like your life depends on it.

And he likes it.

Somehow, he can't stop himself from watching. There's something about seeing his usually innocent roommate writhe in pleasure. There's something about hearing his name fall from your lips in wanton moans, and fuck, he's so hard. He can feel the blood rushing to his dick as he watches you from the doorway. 'Pervert, pervert, pervert' is all he can say in his head as he lets an unconscious hand palm himself through the towel around his waist.

"So this is where all my clothes have been going?"

At the sound of Hoseok's voice, you freeze up completely. There's no way he's actually-

"Shit... Ho-Hoseok-" The apartment falls completely silent as you make eye contact with the man at your door. Suddenly the buzzing of your vibrator seems far too loud in your ears. "I didn't- I'm not... how much did you see?"

You're stunned and extremely mortified to the point where you don't notice that Hoseok is wet and he's wearing nothing but a towel. You don't even notice the way he subtly walks into your room, slowly like he's stalking prey.

"Enough. I saw enough." He's standing right by your bed, arms crossed. Your body burns with embarrassment as you pull your sheets up higher to cover your body. "Answer me, is this what you've been doing with my clothes?"

You simply blink in response. Did he really want you to answer that?

A beat of silence passes by and he reaches for the blanket covering your body before hesitating.

"Uh, can I?" Another wave of silence rolls by, you blink up at him in surprise before nodding quickly.

"Yeah- uh, yeah, just-"

"Fuck." Hoseok breathes out when he pulls the cover down and sees a cute little vibrator situated inside you. The sight alone makes his cock twitch with interest.

"I want to touch you so bad, can I touch you, y/n?" You can see the desperation mixed with uncertainty in his eyes, almost as if he knew he was saying something he wasn't supposed to.

"Please." As soon as the word leaves your mouth, Hoseok is climbing onto your bed and straddling your waist, his fluffy white towel sliding off in the process. You close your eyes tight, clenching around the vibrator inside you and suppressing a moan as Hoseoks movements jostled the toy. You were already so close to coming.

"So pretty... look at me." Hoseok tilts your chin up and your eyes flutter open. Hoseok thinks you're absolutely beautiful like this. Lips parted and your breathing heavy. Not to mention how disheveled your hair is and the fucked out expression on your face. Suddenly, he has the urge to paint that pretty face of yours with his come.

"What were you thinking about... smelling my clothes and fucking yourself like that?" You don't even get the chance to respond before Hoseoks slender fingers are wrapping around the vibrating toy and moving it back and forth inside you, slow and vexing.

"Hoseok, I can't- gonna... shit!" You were already so close when Hoseok walked in on you, you couldn't help coming hard around the toy, fingers curling into the bedsheets as he kept fucking you through your orgasm.

"Fuck, look at you. Ah, I really can't hold back." You've never seen Hoseok's eyes clouded with more lust than when he pulls the soaked toy out of you, a puddle of your juices oozing out of you and gathering on the bed. His cock visibly throbs at the sight.

"Y/n, let me fuck you. Please, I think I might die." Post orgasmic pleasure was still thrumming through your body and you yourself weren't sure if you could take anymore. But the longer you looked down at his leaking hardness, the more you wanted it inside you, the more you needed it inside you.

"Do it. Mmm, put it in." A shiver travels up your body when you feel the tip of his cock press against your folds.

This was dangerous. Despite living with Hoseok for all these years, you didn't know his sexual history and neither of you had a condom on you. Him coming inside sounded so good right now but that wasn't an option.

Hoseok was just as thick as you remembered and it was evident in the way he struggled to fit the tip of his cock inside you. If you weren't so wet, he definitely wouldn't be going in as easy.

"Hoseok, ah, fuck, it hurts-" You didn't know how to describe this feeling. It hurt so good. Out of all the guys you've ever slept with you've never felt anyone so big and thick and fuck, your vibrator was so tiny compared to him. That along with the sensitivity thrumming through your core had you reeling.

He finally bottoms out and your legs instinctively wrap around his waist as if to tell him you loved the way he filled you up. Your nails drag lightly over his back as you part your lips to catch your breath. You're not the only one that needs a minute to breathe, though. Hoseok's breath was coming out in ragged pants against your neck as he adjusted to the warm tightness of your insides.

"God, I've imagined doing this so many times. Why didn't we do this sooner?" Hoseok tilts his head up, finally meeting your eyes and why does this feel awfully intimate? You nod in response, biting your lip to suppress the moan crawling out of your throat as he slowly starts to move his hips.

"Fuck, mmhnn, Hoseok..." You let your head fall back against the pillows as he steadily picks up pace, his cock brushing against that spot inside you that has you seeing stars.

"You take me so good, shit! Almost... mmh, almost like your pussy was made for me." You never expected Hoseok to be much of a dirty talker but you were definitely not against it. If he kept this up you'd be coming for the second time tonight.

All of a sudden, his thrusts start to slow down. You were already so close, was he seriously about to stop? You flash a confused expression his way and there's a dark glint in his eyes as he changes positions so he's sitting up, bringing you into his lap with him.

Oh.

Oh.

"Cmon, baby, ride me like this." Hoseok says through gritted teeth. His hands slide down your spine and rest on your backside before grabbing a handful. You can't help bucking your hips forward in response. "I wanna see what you look like bouncing on me."

There's a look of complete hunger in his eyes, something so dark compared to the usual warmness of his irises. You let your eyes flicker down to his lips, red and swollen from being bitten too hard. He must've noticed because he lets out a mix between a scoff and a chuckle before letting his hand wrap around the back of your neck and pulling you in for a kiss.

all the anxiety flowing through your veins seems to disappear as his mouth works expertly against yours. You part you lips to let out a moan and he uses the opportunity coax you with his tongue. He was literally taking you apart from the inside out and you fucking loved it.

"Y/n." His voice comes out rough and mean against your lips and you gasp when the hand on your ass is forcing you to grind your hips against his. "Are you going to move or do I have to do that, too?"

"Yeah..." Your lips ghosted against his as you started moving on top of him. The first time you lower your hips down, your legs almost give out. He was filling you up and pressing against your walls beautifully. You could feel him in your throat.

"I know you can go faster. Should I help you?" Hoseok practically growls as his hands drift up to your waist, his thumbs kneading the skin there as he moves your body up and down as if you weigh nothing. With Hoseok helping you, you're moving way faster and there's way less strain on your legs.

"Fuck, you look perfect like this. I wish I could come inside you, fill you up and watch it spill out. Then you'd really be mine, hm?" You let out loud moan, unsure whether it was Hoseok's words or the way he was pounding into you that caused it.

"So close... I'm so-" You tuck your face into Hoseok's shoulder as you feel another moan rip through you. Maybe that wasn't your smartest idea because as soon as you tuck your face into his shoulder, his natural musk mixed with his sweet-smelling body wash fills your senses, and that's exactly what pushes you over the edge.

You clench around Hoseok as your orgasm hits you hard for the second time tonight. Mumbled curses of your name spill from his lips and his thrusts become uneven. In the heat of the moment, you bite down on his shoulder to stifle a cry and his nails dig into the skin at your waist, a low groan falling from his lip as he pulls your hips down hard against his. He repeats that motion two, three more times before he's pumping you full of his come.

Oops.

Hoseok lets you rest your head against his shoulder as you both catch your breath before his eyes shoot open and he curses.

"What? What's wrong?" You tilt your head up to meet is worry riddled eyes. His worry was making you worry.

"Fuck, y/n, I came inside you." Hoseok facepalms before letting out a groan. "I'm so sorry, you just felt so good and you were so tight around me. It felt like you were trying to milk my cock out of everything it's got."

"You don't seem very sorry, you're still inside me." You giggle as Hoseok curses again and pulls out of you. As soon as he's out you feel terribly empty and you kind of wish he'd put his dick back inside.

When your back finally hits the bed, you roll over to open your bedside table. You didn't have any condoms but you did have some emergency plan b. You didn't think you'd have to use it but here you are.

"You just have plan b hanging around in your nightstand? But no condoms?" Hoseok raises an eyebrow, a hint of a smile on his face.

"I ran out a while ago and it's not like I've been having sex recently, so I never found the need to buy more. It's your fault for pouncing on me like a dog in heat." You roll your eyes as you open the packet and take a pill.

"Weren't you the one that stole my clothes because my smell turns you on? Talk about a dog in heat..." Hoseok laughs and you give him a slap on the chest.

"Touche..."

★━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━★

[© seokiie]

[I do not allow any translating, editing, reposting, or use of any my work!!]

[jimlingss]

Hi! Here’s a request for your Drabble game: namjoon + fantasy au + “Take this seriously, it’s a life or death situation!” Can be funny or angsty and sorry if this request is too specific haha

Anonymous said: Hello Kina! I love literally all of your works! Can I request this prompt? “That’s barbaric.” “That’s how you survive.” Any member!

Anonymous said: zombie au with any member ?

Zombies count as fantasy, right? lol

↳ The Unintended

2.5k || 50% Angst, 50% Fluff || Kim Namjoon || Zombie Apocalypse!AU

You’re lucky to have Namjoon by your side.

He’s always been the outdoorsy type. One of your first dates together was a camping trip in the wilderness. You remember being mortified then — having no place to do your makeup or properly shower or be able to make yourself look good for him. But now you look back on the memories with fondness. He didn’t care back then and he doesn’t care now.

Not to mention, Namjoon was also a boy scout for eight years. When he got too old for that, he took up rock climbing and spent hours in the gym to beef up his arms. It’s where you met him in the first place as a receptionist at the gym where you were working part-time while going to school.

He knows how to fish. How to set up traps. How to start a campfire. 

Namjoon’s saved your life countless times.

But then again, he’d argue you’ve saved him lots of times too. Years of schooling to become a nurse wasn’t wasted on you after all. And you’re the better cook than he is.

“Look what I caught!”

You look up from the fire where your dear husband is holding a usual fish. But in his other hand is a rabbit held by its ears, dead. It’s dripping of blood, limp in his grip and you feel a twinge of guilt.

“That’s barbaric.”

“That’s how you survive,” he says. “I’ll prepare it to roast.”

You hum, taking the fish from him and the pair of you fall into routine. Namjoon works alongside you to prepare the food, poking the fire interchangeably and the both of you looking up once in a while through the thicket of the forest. 

After a moment, you pipe up, “Hey.”

Namjoon glances up at you and says “hey” with a tender, dimpled smile. 

The corner of your mouth quirks without being able to resist. “I’ve been thinking we should get on the move again. I saw a cottage down the road on our way here. Maybe we could check it out.”

“It’s probably already been ransacked.”

“Yeah, but it’ll be nice to sleep with a roof over our heads. I don’t want you to stay up and have to keep watch.”

“We take turns.”

You give Namjoon a look. “You never wake me up for my turn.”

He smiles sheepishly and you put your blunt knife down, quickly growing solemn. “I’m serious, Joon. It’s not good for your health to not sleep and I can’t— I can’t have you breaking down on me.”

Namjoon softens when he recognizes your distressed tone, when he sees your expression marred with worry. “Okay,” he murmurs gently. “We’ll leave tomorrow morning then.”

You nod and the two of you fall into a comfortable silence. 

As the fish and rabbit are roasted over the blazing fire, smoke fills your nose and you cough before batting it away. You’re starving — in general, you’ve been feeling weak these days but you don’t dare say anything to Namjoon. God knows what he’s putting himself through to make you feel as comfortable as you can. 

You don’t want to worry him even more.

But you can’t hide your groan or sickly expression when the fish you’re supposed to eat comes up to your mouth.

Namjoon’s immediately alarmed and wide-eyed. “What’s wrong? Is it bad?”

You hand the stick that’s pierced with the fish over to him while cupping your mouth, trying not to vomit. “I’m sorry. It just smells really bad.”

“I made it the exact same way before.” He frowns and bites into the fish that’s still steaming. Namjoon chews in his cheek. “It tastes fine, Y/N.”

You shake your head. “I’m good. I’ll have the rabbit.”

But as you shift over, your husband’s eyes bore into your profile.

Namjoon stares at you. He gawks.

Then his mouth opens and he says— “Are you pregnant?”

Your eyes double and you look back at him. But then you scoff. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

You look away from him, picking at the meat, but you swallow hard in the meanwhile, mind racing. It’s not possible. It shouldn’t be possible. You haven’t had your period for three months — but you didn’t think twice about it. Not when there were more pressing matters. Not when you just assumed it stopped because you haven’t had your nutrients and you’ve been starving.

Namjoon knows the gears in your head are turning by your expression. He knows after years of being together.

“Y/N.”

“I already said it’s not possible.”

“There’s a city ten miles away from here. It’ll take half a day to walk there, but there should be a pharmacy or a hospital—”

“We are not going to the city,” you interrupt in exasperation. “It’s a death sentence, Namjoon, and we’re fine out here.”

“Not if you’re pregnant.”

“I’m not.” You deflate with an annoyed sigh. “I know my body best, alright? So just drop it.”

Namjoon stays silent. 

The rustling leaves of the forest and the distant sound of the river rushing fills the growing space between the two of you. And it sinks in how harsh and upset you got. You look up towards your husband with remorseful eyes. The last thing you want is to fight out here. Who knows when it could be your last moment together. “I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s fine. I was just worried.”

You nod. “There’s nothing to worry about.”

Yet deep down, uncertainty swirls and you’re green with nausea again.

...

It took a year to happen.

At first, it was called a flu outbreak. Authorities kept it contained for a few weeks until it wasn’t anymore. Within the span of another week, it was declared a worldwide pandemic and entire countries went into quarantine. 

Life itself shut down. People complained and protested, and when thousands started to drop dead, there were protests for lack of government action. Then, it was millions dead.

Developing countries fell first. It didn’t take long after that for developed nations to follow.

Chaos. Panic. Looting. The dead walking the streets.

You still get nightmares about it. Namjoon does too — when he’s holding you and suddenly jolts awake, gasping. It’s then and there that you know he’s had a nightmare of one of the many close calls.

“I thought the cottage was closer than this.”

The both of you are trekking through the forest, lugging your bags and weapons, trying to remain as quiet and elusive as possible. 

Namjoon looks over his shoulder. “Do you need a break?”

You shake your head. “I’m fine.”

“It should be up ahead.”

You hum, feeling the heat of the sun beating down on you. But it’s still better now with the canopy of the trees hiding you. It’s refreshing even. You admire the unfamiliar scenery. 

All at once, you stop. None of this should be unfamiliar.

Namjoon doesn’t hear the crunch of leaves behind him and turns around.

“This isn’t the direction of the cottage, is it?”

“Y/N.”

Your brows furrow deep enough to hurt. “I already said we’re not going to the city, Namjoon! Why don’t you ever listen to me?!”

Suddenly, there’s snarling in the distance. Namjoon, on alert, clasps his palm over your mouth and both sets of your eyes flicker over. There’s a shadow in the distance, a lurching figure amongst the trees. It snarls again, jerking a bit in your direction, but then no sounds follow. 

It passes.

You breathe a sigh of relief.

“We have to go eventually, Y/N,” he whispers. “We need more supplies and if I can get my hands on a car, that would help us.”

“But—”

Your husband gingerly takes your hand, cradling it softly. “We’ll be careful.”

You gaze at him, searching his expression as if you’re painting his features to the forefront of your mind. But you already have. Yet, it’s not enough to feel comforted. “I can’t lose you, Namjoon. I can’t.”

Namjoon reaches out to hug you, embracing your body, frame overtaking yours.

You grasp onto his shoulders, trying to savour the moment and capture his warmth.

“You won’t. Not if I can help it.”

You nod into his chest.

The trek to the city is completed by afternoon and you find yourself standing in the remains of what was once civilization. There are decayed buildings, abandoned tanks, and much to Namjoon’s delight, many deserted cars. You see zombies bumbling around too. They’ve infested every corner street, every line of the road, and alley, nook and cranny. 

Their bodies are decaying, some with skulls lodged in half and their brain unraveling behind them. You have to hold back a gag when you can smell the rotten odour from here.

Luckily, you and Namjoon move quickly. You throw bricks and bottles at a distance to attract them and run the opposite way together.

First, you get to the small grocery store, opening your backpacks for the spare cans of beans and peas. It’s not much, but it’s a lot at this point. Namjoon even manages to score bandages.

“This is enough,” you murmur when you’re back on the open street again.

But before you can move on out, he stops. “Wait.”

You follow Namjoon’s line of sight. Across the street is a pharmacy and a horde of infected.

You pull your husband back before he can book it and the both of you hide behind discarded crates on the road. “Wait, why?”

“You know why. There were none in the grocery store. I checked, but if there’s any place that has them, it’s there.”

If looks could kill, Namjoon would be six feet under and then crawling out of his grave as a zombie. Maybe as the first one who wasn’t bitten or infected by the virus. “You’re being an idiot.” 

Namjoon grins. “Well, I was thinking of just shouting a battle cry and running straight in there.”

“Take this seriously,” you hiss and punch his arm. It does little to even push him back, much less hurt him. It doesn’t help that his muscles are rock solid. If only his brain was as developed — but if you were being honest, Namjoon was quite intelligent too. Except for right now. “It’s a life or death situation.”

Namjoon smiles, practically from ear to ear. 

The dimples on each side of his cheek crease and before you can react or say much else, he leans in and captures your lips with his. It’s a soft and sweet kiss. Then your husband cradles your face in his hand and tilts your head to deepen the kiss. You’re rendered to complete silence, melting into his touch as he takes your breath away. 

When he pulls from you, your lashes flutter.

You’re completely dazed. 

Until he grabs a rock near your foot and chucks it. It smashes into the window of a nearby boutique, glass shattering and all the zombies turn their heads. They snarl at a high pitch, screeching out as flounder towards the noise. Namjoon darts behind them, right out of your grasps.

You’d shout his name if it didn’t mean your own death sentence.

The wait is agonizing. You feel like you’re going to get a heart attack as you watch the door, unsure if he’ll come out. Even if he does, you don’t know if he’ll still be human and the Namjoon that you love. The one that you decided to marry, that you saw on the other end of the aisle and who cried like a dork when he saw you in the dress. 

Those years feel like another world. But they’re still memories you cherish.

The five minutes feels like an hour. You’re cursing, praying, regretting.

But then the buff idiot, your idiot, comes out and runs back to you with a massive grin. Uninjured. With bottles of penicillin, some kind of allergy medicine, and a pregnancy test you grimace at.

You seek refuge at an apartment building on the edge of the city.

It’s an expensive one that was fenced in and boarded up — one of the last to fall to the ruins.

You choose a room on the second floor that’s easy to get into and easy to escape if need be. Unfortunately a zombie lurches out from one of the rooms much to your horror, but Namjoon kills it. He takes his hatchet right into its skull and checks the other rooms before dragging the corpse out when you look nauseous again.

When it’s all over, Namjoon dusts his hands off like it was just some spring cleaning.

“What happens if I really am pregnant?”

You hold the test, motionless, until your head lifts to meet Namjoon’s softened eyes. There’s an overwhelming urge not to take it, to throw the box out the window and keep convincing yourself that it would be impossible to be carrying. But Namjoon risked his life for this.

And you know he won’t let it go. Not until an answer is certain.

“Then we’ll figure it out,” he murmurs gently.

“I can’t give birth on my own, Namjoon.”

“I know.”

“If the baby even makes it that far,” you whisper and he grimaces. But what worries you far more, what’s put you in so much denial, and made you sick with terror is the fact that you know— “I’ll slow you down even more, Namjoon.”

His brows furrow, lips becoming lopsided. “You don’t slow me down.”

“How many times have you almost died trying to save me?! I-I can’t keep up.”

At once, Namjoon engulfs you with his arms. He holds you close, body flush against yours and you press your face into his broad shoulder, smothering your worries for a moment with his soothing comfort.

“I love you,” he sighs against your ear. “No matter what happens, I love you. There wouldn’t be a reason for me to keep living if you weren’t here, Y/N. I’m only trying this hard because you are. You’re my purpose now. You and this baby, if it’s real.”

Your fingers clutch onto his jacket, hanging onto your husband as your anchor. “Shut up,” you mumble against his clothes. “You know I hate it when you talk like this. Like you’re saying goodbye.”

Namjoon smiles faintly, remembering how you made him promise to never say goodbye. “Sorry.”

He lets you go and you turn into the bathroom.

The minutes that follow are excruciating. Maybe you’re just impatient, but you’ve grown to hate waiting. But still, you wait by yourself while kneeling on the cold, tiled floors, staring at the stick you peed on.

It’s faint. And you pray your eyes are wrong. But as the minutes go by, it becomes stronger and stronger in colour.

You leave and Namjoon looks at you expectedly. 

“Well?”

You thrust the stick towards him. Two lines.