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an0nymousmessenger · 1 year

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For I'll Keep Every Promise

Synopsis: He wakes up. Word Count: 2.4k tags. fluff, angst, happy ending Sequel to 'A Thousand Wishes Unheard' note: I was going to post this later but I think you guys need it. Ao3 Link

Darkness. That was all he could see. He felt nothing– as if he was floating in a neverending void.

He was dead.

He had to be. He remembers the bitter taste of blood coating his mouth– the way he struggled and choked on the very thing that ran through his skin. He recalls the loud ringing in his ear, growing ever louder as his vision faded out.

Well, he supposed he tried his best. Really. He gave it his all.

It just wasn’t enough.

What remained of his heart ached. He supposed he wasn’t able to fulfill his promise to you. He hopes you won’t blame him…he had held on till the very end.

Death wasn’t so bad. Before he went he was able to see his students, laughing and smiling, he even got to hold you close before he had left. Not to mention he even saw his friends again, and he had gotten to say goodbye.

He had no regrets.

Well…he supposes there is still one that lodges itself in the back of his mind.

It was you.

He had never gotten the chance to…

“Satoru,”

He turned his head to look at you, who was savoring your lollipop as you leaned back on the balcony.

Lemon flavored. The very sour kind.

He had a snide suspicion that it was to keep him away from stealing it…

“Satoruu~” you repeated, drawing his attention again.

“Hm?”

You flash him a smile, the kind of smile that lets him know that you are about to either stir up trouble or say something random.

It was the latter.

“What do you want to do when you're older?”

He snorts, “What kind of question is that? Of course– a sorcerer.” He wanted to add ‘what else?’ but decided it was obvious enough. Adding the last part would also ruin his good mood. His path has already been pre-designed and pre-routed for him. He has no other choice.

“No, what I mean is if all this didn’t exist.”

“Aw~ are you saying you would rather not have met me?” He sings out in a fake-pained voice, knowing that it was not what you meant.

You roll your eyes, having been used to his antics for a few years now, “Perhaps,” you say with a playful smile, “Who knows? Maybe I’ll be better off.”

“Nah, I doubt it.”

You sigh before turning to face him. You widen your eyes when you notice he is already looking at you, but quickly move on, but Satoru doesn’t let the red creeping up on the tip of your ears go unnoticed. “I’m saying if you didn’t have cursed energy and stuff…like normal people, you know?”

He wanted to laugh and point out that it sounded like you were indicating that people like you and him were the odd ones, but he decided to let it slide.

“I dunno, maybe I’ll start a singing career, something like that.”

“Pfft, so what? That you’ll get even more admirers and fans?”

“Exactly! What? Don’t you agree? My face is pleasant to look at.”

Scoffing, you say, “One of these days I’ll make sure to crush that ego of yours.”

He rolls his eyes before looking back out at the school grounds, watching the sun slowly set behind the forest of trees. Although he had said the first thing that came from the top of his mind, he supposed singing wouldn’t be that far reached.

After all, he excelled at everything.

"How about you?" he asks. "Do you have something in mind already?"

Observing the setting sun, you reply, "Mhm, yeah. Something like that."

"Really?" He sounds surprised, not realizing how seriously you were considering it. "What is it?"

Hesitating, you eventually respond, "It's... nothing."

His interest is immediately piqued.

"Come on! What's your idea? Share it with me!" He playfully pesters you with a grin.

"No!"

"You can't tease me like that! I told you mine, didn't I?" He whines a bit more before eventually coaxing it out of you.

It was when he saw you sigh, watching as the tension left your shoulders that he knew he won.

“Fine, I’ll tell you then. But you can’t tell anyone else– okay?”

He makes a gesture of zipping his mouth and throwing the zipper away, his curiosity increasing. It always does when it comes to you.

“I want to be…” you wait a bit, as if for dramatic effect, “...an author.”

You turn to look at him after a moment’s silence before breaking out in laughter.

“Haha- what’s up with your face? Surprised?”

Indeed he was a bit surprised. An author? He had no clue. When it comes to you it seemed as if he's only ever scratched the surface. It made him want to know more, want to ask more.

He never does.

"An author," he echoes thoughtfully.

"Yeah."

He wanted to ask why, but you had already started talking.

“An author. I guess it’s because I want to write stories, I grew up reading them you know? Made me feel safe.”

A hint of melancholy graces your smile as your thoughts drift elsewhere; it's a different kind of smile than the one before–a sadder smile.

"Who knows? I'm sure being a sorcerer has provided ample material for incredible stories. I'll be entirely unique. Maybe I'll even include tales about overcoming curses and how people like us save the day."

"Why not add in a ridiculously handsome guy who defeats all the curses with seamless ease too? Make sure 'remarkably attractive' is emphasized."

Laughing, you playfully smack his arm. "Okay, Satoru. I'll consider it."

He couldn’t help but break out into an amused smile. What an odd dream, he thought. Though he supposed he wasn’t against it.

Satoru Gojo excelled at everything, yet nothing he achieved seemed to measure up to you.

He felt his mind start to drift and fade away, threatening to join the other souls in their lost journey home. Wait…he called out. He didn’t want to go just yet. He wanted more time, more time to replay his memories, to live in them just for a second longer.

“Satoru,”

He could hear your voice, calling him in that familiar and recognizable way that was only special to you.

“Satoru.”

He wished he could’ve told you how much he loved hearing you say his name, it rolls off your tongue so nicely. He was never one to care about names, it never mattered to someone like him.

All he needed was Gojo – a name denoting his status, lineage, and power. His first name barely held any weight compared to his clan's. No one needed to know who Satoru was, no one ever did…so he couldn’t have cared less for his name- and yet you somehow made him love his name– only when you say it does it sound special– like it’s his name like he is someone.

Someone other than the honored one. Someone other than the strongest.

“Satoru!”

There were a lot of things he never got to tell you, another thing to add to his regrets. If only he had been brave enough…if only he had picked up his courage and told you everything.

“Satoru- please!”

He paused. Ah- what is that feeling? He could feel something wet fall onto his face. Was it raining? How could that be? How could he feel if he was dead?

And yet that warmth around his face only made him more confused. He could feel as if someone was holding them, cupping his face carefully as if he could break.

"Please wake up… Satoru, I beg you…"

His eyes fluttered open, adjusting to the sudden brightness.

The first thing he saw when his vision came back into focus was your face. Your crying face looking down at him with your hands cupping his face.

Then he looked around, realizing that the battlefield on which he had been sliced in half was gone. He was in a room, a hospital room.

He looked down and saw the rest of his body, no longer split into two. Had Shoko done this?

“Satoru!”

He returned his gaze to you. You were smiling, smiling, and crying.

Questions, so many questions flooded through him at that moment, but he decided that he could ask those later. Right now was more important, right now felt like it was all happening inside a dream.

“Hey…crybaby, seems like you you missed me?” He teased with a small grin.

You gave him a look through your tear-soaked face as if you couldn’t even believe what he was saying.

“Y-You! You bastard! You annoying– infuriating- stupid dumbass!”

“Aw, come on…” he drags, “You don’t mean those…do you hm?” Although the tone in his voice is light– playful even as if he hadn’t just returned from death, as if all he wanted right now was to live this moment to the fullest, he was dearly wishing this– whatever this was– to last a little longer.

He slowly brings his trembling arm to hold onto yours, he wanted to hold on to you tight, as if everything he was seeing was about to break, to fall apart for him to realize it was all a dream.

He waited for you to disappear, to return to the part of his imagination that was playing tricks on him.

Instead, you move sideways to hug him, crying onto his shoulders.

"No...no, I don't," you managed through choked sobs.

He hummed softly, "I guess I kept my promise after all, huh?"

You nod into his shoulder, still holding him tightly.

You and him fall into a comfortable silence, he lets you cry on his shoulders just as how you let him hold onto you.

Several minutes passed before you pulled away, sniffling and attempting to compose yourself while wiping away tears with your sleeve.

Satoru wanted to reach out and wipe them for you, but his newly healed injuries did not allow him to, moving his hand had already been hard.

It went on like that for a while; you sniffling and crying as Satoru stared at you quietly, taking everything about you in as if this was the last time he was going to see you, just the same way he did on that night underneath the torii gate, using his eyes to try to imprint every detail, everything, every aspect of you into his memory.

That night felt like a lifetime away.

He was the first to break the silence, “Where are the others?”

By now you had calmed down, and were able to answer in a coherent way, “Recovering…everyone is- they’re fine.”

Fine. Not good, but fine.

He’ll take it for now.

“We managed to win and…” you give him a look, “you know…the students declared their victory for you,” You say with a smile.

His students. They managed to do it, just as he thought they could. He sighed contently.

You then spend the next half hour going over exactly what had happened after he had passed out, how Kashimo had come out right after him, and how eventually the rest of the students joined in.

In the end, they had managed to pull through, but it wasn’t over. Sukuna had been dealt with, Megumi’s condition was unknown, and Kenjaku was nowhere to be found.

Shoko had indeed been the one to heal him. Immediately after the battle they were able to recover his body and managed to heal him back together just in time.

“We- we almost- I didn’t know if we made it in time or not…” You say, choking up again. He could see the tears you were desperately trying to hold back, to look brave in front of him, trying to break through.

“Hey, I’m right here, aren’t I?” He beckons you to come closer.

He eventually holds you in his arms, drawing slow circles on your back, as he knows it calms you, “Shhh, I’m right here, okay? I’m not going anywhere else.”

You mutter, “Better not,” which causes him to laugh.

He wanted to let this moment drag on forever, just you in his arms, just you and him.

“This…this is real– right?” He says quietly, and in such a small voice he doubted you had heard him.

You raise your head to look at him, the soft kind of smile he’s always known playing on your face, “Yes, Satoru. This is real, as real as it can be.”

He can feel himself start to tear up, because if he had to be honest- he was scared too, he was terrified, but he had no choice. He had to play his role, his role as the strongest.

But now he could just be Satoru, just him holding onto you, keeping you close.

“Then I’m glad.”

Bonus:

“Gojo Sensei!” Yuji, the always energetic kid exclaimed as he ran into the room, followed by You, Maki, Yuta, Nobara, Panda, Inanumaki, Shoko, and everyone else.

They all had recovered for the most part and seemed to be relatively okay. They all wore relieved expressions as they entered the room to see that their Sensei was alright.

Yuji was the first to arrive at his Sensei’s bedside.

“Hey, kid!” Gojo Sensei waved. He had recovered enough to prop himself up and do basic movements, which to Shoko had been a miracle itself.

Yuji then began launching himself into the things that had happened while Gojo had been recovering, and Gojo returned the energy. Everyone got their turn, talking until visiting times were over and they had to be ushered out.

You were the last to leave. Just before you turned the doorknob Satoru called after you, “Hey- wait.”

You turn around, waiting for what he wants to say.

“When- uh when this is all over and when you have some free time, let me take you out, yeah?”

You barely ever heard Satoru Gojo stumble over his words, and when he did you know it was because he was nervous, and everyone knows Satoru Gojo is never nervous, yet that always seemed to be the exception when it comes to you.

You found it cute, the way he would try to seem aloof as the back of his neck became a beautiful shade of bright red.

“Yeah, but let’s save that for when you recover.”

“Don’t worry! I’ll be up and ready by next week,” he says as if it were a fact, his blue eyes seemed to shine even brighter.

You sigh, even after coming back on the brink of death he still acts like a child, but you smile nonetheless, “Next week it is then.”

#gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo fluff #gojo angst #gojo satoru #jjk gojo #jjk spoilers #jujutsu kaisen #fluff

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colormepurplex2 · 2 years

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Till Death Do Us Part | Enigmatic Decisions Of The Heart

↳ Hitman Yoongi x Kidnapped f.Reader ⤜ Enemies/Lovers ⤜ Rating: MA 🔞 ⤜ WC: 8,766 ⚠️ Lots of angst, fake virginity loss, mild blood, mild cum play, things get a little weird...but in a good way?

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Happiness, like many other things, is a subjective experience. What makes one person happy may not be the same for someone else. If anyone were to ask whether or not you're happy, you're not entirely sure how you would respond. Happy that you're alive? Sure. Happy that you'll be walking down the aisle to marry someone you consider an enemy in just a few short hours? Not exactly. Happy you have a roof over your head? Only when it's snowing. Snow reminds you of a day you'd rather sooner forget. Happy to have food in your belly? The way the sausage and eggs from breakfast sit in the pit of your stomach right now means the jury is still out on that one, but you'd wager to say yes most times. The point is, you're trying to come to terms with finding your own happiness. There has to be a silver lining. If there was ever a lesson from your father that you took to heart, it was the fact that we are often the product of our own choices. Meaning, you can choose where to find happiness. You just have to want to see it. Even if it's in places you may have once taken for granted. The sun on your face, the wind in your hair; they may be little things, even a little cliché, but they're things that are so common no one would think to deprive you of them. Small pieces of happiness.

You're sitting at one of the windows in your room, staring out over the backyard. There are a handful of men dressed in dark blue jumpers working diligently to set up a few chairs in front of the gazebo in the garden. Others are placing arranged flower pieces of royal purple and black down the makeshift aisle. You can't help but smile bitterly, looking at the colors you chose. It was a surprise when Yoongi gave you that choice, the one thing you've had control over for this entire arrangement. You chose purple because it's your favorite and black because you think it suits Yoongi and his damned soul. You thought it would be ugly. Though, the irony of them blending together so well in the flower baskets is not lost on you. But, it's too late to change it now.

The rest of the reception last night went by in a numbing motion of flowery speeches and forced pleasantries. It was hard to focus on any of the words. All you could focus on was the crawling feeling between your thighs. Cleaning up with Yoongi's discarded jacket didn't exactly give you any peace of mind other than the fact the garment got soiled. It made you grin for a moment before the guilt set in, thinking how it wouldn't make a difference to Yoongi, as he wouldn't be the one cleaning the jacket. You made it a point to locate Mai after the speeches and profusely apologize. She took the jacket with a bit of trepidation but didn't ask any questions, simply excused herself to take care of it.

A soft knock at the door makes the memories fade away, leaving behind just the ache in your chest.

"It's open," you call, as you stand from the seat by the window. The door swings open slowly, revealing Mai on the other side. She has traded in her usual black pants and white button-down for a floor-length, long-sleeve black dress. You give her a once over. "Mai, dressed for the occasion, I see. Funerals, weddings, might as well be the same thing, huh?"

Her steps falter with your words. Large brown eyes meet yours and you watch as the color drains from her face. "Miss, I'm sorry, I didn't- this is just- please, let me go change."

You wave a hand in the air, shaking your head. "No, no. I'm sorry, Mai, I was only kidding. You look great. Please, I love that dress on you. I was just trying to lighten my mood, that's all. Truly."

The look on her face slips a little, her shoulders relaxing just a fraction. "Okay, Miss," she accepts softly. You can tell she's having an internal battle about whether to actually accept your words or immediately go change as she said she would.

"What's first, hair or makeup?" you ask in hopes of drawing the conversation away to something else.

Mai gives you a tight smile with a small nod of her head. "Right. Well, I think it's best we start with both."

"Both?"

Before Mai can respond, you hear the clicking of high heels coming toward your room from out in the hall. A moment later you're greeted with a sing-songy, "Good afternoon, you beautiful bitch."

Miriam struts into the room, bringing with her a cloud of floral perfume. "Miriam," you say in surprise. You weren't expecting to see her here.

"The one and only." She winks and gives you an exaggerated bow. Snapping up and tossing Mai a sweet smile, she smooths her lilac-colored dress over her ample hips. The color of the dress contrasts beautifully with her deep ochre skin and ebony ringlets. "Let's get to it, Mai-Mai, we only have a few more hours before our friend here joins the ranks of us degenerates." Her sparkling brown eyes meet yours and she bites her pink-painted bottom lip. "Ready to enter Hell for all eternity, princess?"

An hour later, Miriam is still working pins and curls into your hair while Mai applies subtle makeup meant to emphasize your eyes and lips. The two features you long ago learned are Yoongi's favorites of your face. "What was your wedding like, Miriam?" you question, taking a small sip of the champagne she had snuck into your room. You weren't allowed to attend their wedding, but you remember the day it happened.

Miriam gives a sharp laugh. "Oh, fuck. Let's see...well, it was similar to this. Only in the fact I was about to marry a man I hardly knew and become part of a family I wasn't the biggest fan of. That's the thing with arranged marriages, though, right? It's so archaic." She takes a step back, drawing your attention through the mirror of your dressing table. "I am man, let me beat my chest and proclaim women as property to trade," she mocks in a deep grumble, smacking her fist against her chest for emphasis. "Bunch of assholes if you ask me. But, daddy wanted in with The Hitman, so here we are." Her shoulders jump up in a quick shrug. "I chose hot pink and lime green, intending to just piss Seokjin off. It didn't really work, the jerk actually complimented them. I'll say, really, Seokjinnie isn't so bad. After I bloodied his nose or lip a time or two he learned I wasn't just some sniveling little girl he could walk all over."

She catches your wide-eyed gaze in the mirror. "Bloodied nose?"

"Pow, right in the kisser," she chortles, punching the air a few times. "You can't let these apes get the best of you, love. You have to give just as good as you get. That goes for all aspects." She gives you a pointed look. "If he treats you right, you treat him right. End of it. Got it?"

You want nothing more than to cling to her words. But, all you can seem to do is give a small nod and hope she doesn't notice the already flowering defeat in your eyes. You're not sure Yoongi will ever treat you right again, so what's the point? After a moment you smile a little. "Bloodied nose," you murmur to yourself. Maybe you'll try that next. What's the worst that could happen?

"You're still a virgin, right?" You gawk at her in the mirror, her question taking you by surprise.

"Miriam, I don't-," you begin but she bursts out into a full belly laugh, cutting you off.

She waves a hand in the air. "I'm only asking so I can impart a little bit of advice where that's concerned." Her right eyebrow arches high up her forehead.

You clear your throat, dropping your eyes to Mai's feet where she stands in front of you. "I am and have it constantly monitored. It's part of the contract, I've never even used a tampon," you murmur, your upper lip curling in irritation. Growing up, your mother would go bonkers anytime you brought them up, saying you shouldn't use such things until you're much older. After everything that happened, you couldn't help but think perhaps maybe your mom was somehow trying to appease whatever future husband you might have gained the interest of. All she really did was manipulate and control your life much the way it's being controlled now, it was just disguised as the love of a mother.

Miriam sighs. "It was the same for me," she confirms, softly. "Look at me," she requests, placing a hand on your shoulder. Your eyes come up, meeting hers in the mirror. "I know it might seem impossible now, but if you can look past the situation and just focus on the good you know is here in Yoongi," she taps her chest gently, "it won't be so bad. You might even enjoy it."

An unattractive snort works its way out of your nose. "You don't have to have the birds and bees talk with me, Miriam. I know what sex is and what it involves. I don't expect to enjoy it, not when I don't have a choice in the matter."

"That's where you're wrong, though," she muses as she resumes teasing your hair into place. "You do have a choice, in a sense. You can choose to own the moment. Don't just slap on a brave face and bear it. Take control, find your own pleasure."

Is that something you're capable of? Miriam makes it sound so easy. But, the more you think about it, the less you feel like that's something you can do. A choice? It doesn't feel much like a choice. Perhaps, when the time comes, you'll be able to see it a little differently.

The only attendees of your wedding, aside from yourself and Yoongi, are his dad, brothers, Miriam, Mai, and Wenton, Yoongi's assistant. The Hitman, himself, officiated the wedding. His words were gruff and to the point, skipping all the fluffy symbolism. You went through the motions, walking yourself down the aisle, handing your purple and black bouquet off to Miriam, reciting the vows, and eventually, became Yoongi's wife. He barely looked at you the entire time, his focus either on the ground at your feet or on his father. A small part of you kept screaming at him in your head, begging for him to just look at you...to see you. He didn't.

It doesn't go unnoticed to you that The Hitman didn't offer up for anyone to make objections. Not that you would expect any of these people to come to your rescue. It's just the principle of the matter, you think. There is no after-party or dinner. Everyone simply goes their separate ways after you're pronounced husband and wife.

"Meet me out front in an hour," Yoongi grumbles, leaving you standing in the gazebo with his father.

His dismissive attitude shouldn't surprise you, but you can't help the way the ache in your chest digs a little deeper. You begin to gather the voluminous skirt of your dress to head toward the house when a hand catches your wrist.

You look back, eyes meeting those of The Hitman. Fight or flight is a serious battle of wills. Right now, you want nothing more than to rip your wrist from his grasp and run screaming. There are no words he could utter to you that you want to hear.

"You're part of my family now, girl. I expect you to act like it, you understand?" When you just blink up at him in silence he gives your wrist a generous shake. "Understand?" he repeats.

"Yes." His eyes narrow and his grip tightens around your wrist. You wince, adding, "sir. Yes, sir."

He gives a jerk of his chin, roughly releasing your wrist before turning on his heel, stepping from the gazebo and heading further into the garden. "See to it that you do," he calls without looking back.

Despite the burning behind your eyes, you stop the tears before they can even begin, refusing to let that man have any control over your emotions. Giving his retreating form one last glance, you turn toward the house and make your own way out of the gazebo.

Mai follows quietly behind you all the way to your room. You half expect Miriam to show up again, but shortly after you begin pulling the pins from your hair, you hear her voice carry down the hall and continue past your door. Miriam once had a room here, too. After marrying Seokjin, though, they both moved to another home on the property. It's not all that far from the main house, but far enough away that you've only seen her two other times since then. You imagine you'll be in your own home with Yoongi soon enough as well. It's hard to decide whether that's a blessing or a curse.

"I know of a precious little boutique that will put this in a shadow box for you," Mai comments, helping you slip out of your wedding gown.

You can't help the scoff that slips out. "I don't know about that, Mai. I don't exactly care that much about it, sorry." That's not exactly the truth, but not wholly a lie either. You didn't get to pick the dress out, but it seems Yoongi has a knack for choosing pretty things for you to wear. It's a painfully beautiful dress, one you would have cried happy tears over if it were for any other reason than marrying him. The sweetheart neckline is adorned with real amethysts that cascade in a light gradient down the bodice. The full skirt flares from the hip with small black roses embroidered along the hem. It's definitely not a traditional gown by any means. You'd almost wager to guess he had it custom-made. But, that seems a bit absurd considering the circumstances.

"As you say, Miss." Mai just nods and scoops up the dress when you step out of it. You know she'll probably have it put into a shadow box anyways. Perhaps that should bother you, but instead, you feel a small pang of gratitude for her putting up with your shit moods, this one included.

Half an hour later, you follow Wenton as he carries your suitcase down the stairs. Mai helped you pack. Or rather, she packed while you sat on your bed and sulked. You're not bringing much, just enough clothes for a week, a few essentials, and a book you doubt you'll actually read. Yoongi is taking you to a cabin in the mountains, one of the properties owned by the family. Mai was instructed to make sure your clothing was suited for snow, as the weather on the mountain is a bit unpredictable this time of year. It's still mild here in the valley, a chill in the air at night, but nothing beyond warranting a light jacket as the sun goes down.

Wenton loads your suitcase into the trunk space of the SUV waiting out front. Yoongi is standing by the backdoor scrolling through his phone. He gives you a quick glance before pulling open the door and waving a hand toward the interior.

Mai whispers a quiet 'goodbye' as you climb into the backseat. The door clicks closed behind you. It's not soundproof by any means, but still, you're only able to barely hear the conversation outside.

"You'll be expected back no later than next Monday," The Hitman barks from the doorway of the house. "We have a flight to Warsaw that we can't afford to miss."

Yoongi scoffs, but you're certain it's not loud enough to carry to his father. "Understood, sir," he calls a little louder.

The other door to the back pops open, surprising you. "Hey there, little mouse," a deep voice purrs. Just as your eyes go to the open door, Namjoon appears. Lightheadedness creeps over you as your heart begins to pound. "You're going to be good for my big brother, right?" Suddenly, he's looming over you, one knee pressed into the seat with a large palm against the driver's seat headrest. He chuckles darkly as you start to fumble for the door handle, trying to get it open and escape.

You nearly go tumbling out of the vehicle when the door snaps open, but you find yourself caught in Yoongi's arms instead. "Fuck off, Namjoon," he growls.

Namjoon turns his lips down into a mock pout. "I was just making sure your wife would be on her best behavior, brother. You know, uphold her wifely duties and all." He winks, tugging his bottom lip between his teeth.

"Get. Out." Yoongi snaps, still holding you against his chest.

Finally, Namjoon slides out of the vehicle. Before he closes the door, he gives Yoongi a look filled with so much violence that you're surprised blood isn't being drawn. "Don't make me have to have another little chat with you, Yoongi. Unlike you, I keep my promises." The door slams shut and Namjoon disappears from view.

"What is he talking about, Yoongi?" you ask into the quiet interior.

Yoongi shakes his head before helping you sit back up in the seat. He nudges you until you slide over and make room for him. Which is surprising. You thought he would be riding up front with Wenton, who is now sliding into the driver's seat.

"It's a long drive, we'll stop for dinner in about two hours. You should try to rest between now and then," Yoongi explains before promptly pulling out his phone and ignoring you again.

Dinner consists of drive-thru burgers and fries. You were hesitant to give your order, waiting for Yoongi to gripe about the carbs and saturated fats. But, he didn't say anything to you, just ordered his own burger and a vanilla milkshake.

Wenton is quiet the entire ride, only deeming to speak when spoken to by Yoongi. He listens to classical music on the radio so low you're barely aware of it unless you focus really hard. Yoongi continues to ignore you. After dinner, it's another three hours before Wenton pulls off onto a side road and the terrain changes.

Before long you're jostling in your seat, gripping the handle above the window, and trying not to smack your head against the glass as you peer into the darkness. The sun went down shortly after the stop for dinner, so it's pretty much impossible to make out anything that lines the road at this point.

"Is it safe to be driving on this road at night?" you venture to ask, feeling uneasy as the SUV crawls through a dip that sends your shoulder bouncing off the door.

"Wenton has driven the road many times, there is nothing to be worried about," Yoongi mumbles in response, still glued to his phone. "We'll be there soon anyway."

True to his word, maybe ten minutes later, the road evens out and you catch a glint of iron in the moonlight as Wenton drives through an open gate. The headlights illuminate the cabin as he pulls the SUV to a stop. It's not terribly big, but it looks cozy enough with large windows and a wrap-around porch.

"Do you think it'll snow?" you ask softly, silently praying he says 'no'. You hate the snow.

Yoongi opens his door, steps out, and then offers you his hand to help you down beside him. "Most likely," he finally responds, releasing your hand and turning towards the back of the SUV. Wenton already has the hatch door open, pulling out your suitcase. "Let's get inside and I'll show you around."

The inside of the cabin is much like you would expect. An open concept living room, kitchen, and dining room combo. There is a small mudroom off the kitchen. Through there, there is a door that leads outside and two interior doors. One opens up to a single bedroom where Wenton will be staying, the other to a bathroom that houses the washer and dryer, too.

A large river-stone fireplace takes up almost an entire wall of the living room. The couch and recliner look like they've been well-loved, their beige upholstery faded with use. The oak cabinets in the kitchen are stained a dark chestnut that matches the rugged bench-style dining table. It's a stark contrast to the house back at the estate. You love it.

Family portraits line the wooden staircase leading up to the second floor. You follow Yoongi up the stairs, he has both yours and his suitcases clutched in his hands. Just as you make it to the top of the stairs, one of the photos catches your attention. It's just like all the others, a candid shot of a happy family. You recognize The Hitman and the seven sons. It's clear the picture is old, as the boys don't even look to be more than in their early teens.

But, what really draws your attention is the woman in the photo. She's sitting on a wooden swing in what you recognize as the rose garden back at the estate. Her head is thrown back and her mouth is open wide in a laugh as Namjoon and Jungkook are frozen behind her with their arms extended like they just gave her a good push on the swing. The other sons are sprawled out on a checkered blanket off the side, in the middle of spreading out what looks like a picnic. The Hitman stands almost out of frame, his arms crossed as he looks down at the boys on the blanket. You study the picture, leaning in trying to get a better look at the woman. It's hard to make out her face due to the angle it's tilted back at.

"Yoongi, who-," your question about who she is cuts off abruptly when you turn and find Yoongi no longer in your sight. "Yoongi?" you call, hurrying up the last few steps and down the hall before you. "Where did you go?"

"In here." He pokes his head out from the last door on the left.

You jog down the hall, passing the other two doors in the hallway. Stepping into the room, your feet falter. "Holy shit," you whisper, taking in the view. The entire back wall of the room is floor-to-ceiling glass. There is a large four-poster king bed directly across from it, ensuring the first thing you'll see when you wake up is a view of the mountain and the river that winds behind the cabin. There is scant other furniture in the room, simple wooden bedside tables, and a cushioned chair beside the door leading to the bathroom and closet.

Yoongi's back is to you as he rolls both of the suitcases into the closet. "Just wait til the sun comes up in the morning. It's one of my favorite views," he comments absently. When he turns, the look on his face is one you've never seen before. He looks...sad.

"Is everything okay?" You don't expect him to tell you if there's something wrong, but it's natural for you to express concern for others.

The bedroom is only illuminated by a bedside lamp. It casts his profile in shadows as he closes the distance to you. He stops just a few inches short of you. This close, you're able to see the thin sheen of perspiration coating his forehead. "It will be," he whispers, barely loud enough for you to hear. In a louder voice, "best get this over with."

"Get what over with?" Your words turn into a small gasp as his hands grip the bottom of your sweater and begin to pull it up. "Yoongi, wait. Can't we wait?" He continues trying to tug the top over your head. "Please!" You swat at his hands but they get tangled in the material as he finally pulls it over your head.

Your arms are yanked free and he tosses it to the side. Before you can take a step back and put space between you, his arms are locking you in place. The whooshing sound of your blood pounding echoes in your ears. It makes it hard to hear his words. "I know you hate me, I know you don't trust me. I get it, I expect nothing less. But, please, please, just trust me this once. I promise I'll explain, I promise I won't hurt you." You can hear the plea in his voice, the way it cracks with emotion as he makes that last promise. His lips are so close to your ear that they brush it with each word.

He's scaring you, the words just adding to the feeling. Finally loosening his hold, he puts a few inches between your bodies. "Yoongi, I...," you begin to question him but your words trail off when his eyes fill with anguish. His chin jerks just slightly, like he's wanting to shake his head no but stops himself. It's like he wants to say something but can't. There is no reason for you to trust him, he said as much himself. But, the ache that's been sitting in your chest for days now is turning into an ache of sympathy. There is clearly something going on with him, something he isn't able to express. It's a leap of faith, but you roll your lips between your teeth and finally try to relax. It's not like you didn't know this would be happening anyway.

Lifting one of his arms from around you, he grips the back of his shirt and pulls it up over his head, discarding it next to yours. You've never seen Yoongi without a shirt on. Surprisingly. Any time you found him in the pool room or he took you to the lake, he was wearing a rash guard top. Scars litter his chest and stomach. Some are faded, barely there, but others are thick and puckered, still pink like they're recent. You don't realize you're running your fingers over one across his chest until you feel him flinch away. "Don't," he whispers. "Come on," he takes the hand hovering over his chest and pulls you toward the bed.

His movements are slow, deliberately so. It's like he's trying to soothe you even though he's stripping your clothing off. With each article he removes, his fingers skim over your skin in feather-soft brushes. By the time you're completely naked, your body wears a coat of goosebumps instead. All you can do is stare at him, his eyes locked on yours, as he slips off the rest of his own clothes. For a moment you think maybe you should be the one to do that, but you can't seem to make your limbs function anymore. His throat contracts as he audibly swallows. If you didn't know any better you'd think he was nervous.

You don't even have to look down to know something is mildly wrong, but you do anyway. Just a quick flick of your eyes and you confirm it. He's not hard. You have a moment of panic, a self-conscious drop of dread that there's something wrong with your body. Though, you quickly realize it's not you, it's not that you're not attractive or that he doesn't like your body. You know he does, it's gotten him hard before. But, it's the anguish that is still evident in his face, the hollowness in his eyes. It's like he's not all here, his mind somewhere else outside of this bedroom.

What needs to happen obviously can't if things stay how they are. You reach out and cup him, trying to coax him into a state of arousal. "Is this okay?" you ask softly. Is this part of the choice Miriam talked about? His brows pinch together but he doesn't move to stop you. It works. You can feel him growing against your palm, the rise and fall of his chest quickens. His hand is suddenly on yours, halting you from going further. Maintaining eye contact, he reaches out and pulls back the sheets on the bed.

You crawl backwards onto the bed and he follows. There is a tremble to the way he moves like he's fighting not to shake like a branch in a windstorm. "Leave it on." He stops your hand from reaching out to the bedside lamp to turn it off. "I, uh, I ne-...want to see you." There is definitely something wrong. Warning bells are sounding in your head.

"Yoongi, what's-?" He cuts your question of concern off with a finger to your lips.

He gives you a look that only lasts a brief second, but in that second you see his vulnerability. Gone is the monster from last night. The man you stood across from in the gazebo just hours ago has disappeared, in his place is a scared and lost soul. You begin to shake your head and push away from him, intending to get out of the bed.

"Stay," he barks, the tone reminiscent of the man you just thought lost. Yoongi grips your ankles and pulls them until you're laying flat on your back before him. Like donning a mask, the vulnerability and anguish from before are covered with cold indifference. Oddly, he leans back and casts a glance over his shoulder, his head angled like he's glancing into the far corner of the room. He brings his attention back to you and sucks in a sharp breath that he lets ease out slowly. "Touch me," he offers, settling back on his heels between your spread thighs and gesturing down.

When you hesitate, he grabs up one of your hands and presses it to his half-hard length. A soft strangled sound leaves his chest and his lips twist up in what looks like disgust. Despite how much his face says he doesn't like it, he grows hard all the same. He's still guiding your hand, forcing your fingers to squeeze around him, to the point you're sure it's causing him pain. Is he punishing himself? The thought disappears just as quickly as it came, your focus being drawn to the fingers of Yoongi's free hand skirting up along your inner thigh. You've experienced so much whiplash within the span of the last few minutes that your body isn't even sure how to respond. There is no arousal, no tingling sensations or warm fuzzies. Just confusion. It's even more confusing when Yoongi presses two fingers just mid-knuckle deep into you, gives them a small circling, then withdraws them and rubs his fingers on the sheets just below your ass.

He's suddenly pulling your hand away and dropping his weight onto you, propping up on an elbow and fitting his hips between your thighs. "Yoongi, wait, I'm not ready. Please, kiss me or something," you mumble, your hands skirting over his arms and pressing against his chest. He doesn't move, or speak, he just grabs a handful of the sheets and pulls them up over his own hips, covering you both from the waist down. His breath shudders from his chest, his hand that's still between your bodies hooks under your knee and lifts your leg until your thigh practically rests on your stomach. With more shifting of his hips, you mash your eyes closed and try to brace for what you know will come next, but they fly open in even more confusion. Instead of feeling his cock probing your sex, you feel the velvety skin slide along your thigh before lodging itself in the gap between your thigh and stomach. "What are you-?" His hand clamps over your mouth, effectively silencing your confusion.

Yoongi leans in so close you feel his warm breath stir the hairs around your ear. "I said trust me." His hips subtly shift, rocking a little from side to side. He works his free hand from between your bodies and slides it under the pillow beneath your head. You can faintly make out the sound of something sliding against the sheets as he draws his hand back out. You're both breathing so loud, you're sure you would have missed it if it wasn't right by your head. Something cold presses against the underside of your thigh, surrounded by the warmth of Yoongi's hand, like he's palming something to your skin. "Do you know what this is?" he whispers, just as close as before. You focus on the feeling of it, the shape of it pressed into your skin. It almost feels like a...your eyes go wide and press back into the pillow until you can meet his gaze. His hand is still firmly pressed over your mouth so it's hard to shake your head, but you do vehemently. Not saying you don't know what it is, but saying please don't use it. Because you definitely know the elongated and rounded-edged feel of the hilt to his pocket knife. His hips pull back, you almost forgot the fact he had wedged his cock between your thigh and stomach, just a bit. He dips back down until his lips brush your ear, then simultaneously he removes his hand from over your mouth, clicks the button to extend the blade on his knife, and whispers, "scream for me," as he snaps his hips forward.

Shock, confusion, fear. One of those drives the sound from your throat, a shrill screech rending the air. It's like you're watching everything happen from across the room, it's so surreal. It takes you a moment to realize the blade of the knife is only pressed flat-edge down against your thigh instead of piercing your skin. To add even more to the odd sensations, his cock is moving against your stomach and thigh, his hips working like he's fucking. "What the fuck?"

"Shut up," he snaps into your ear with a low hiss. "Make it believable, they have to believe it. Spit in your hand and help me out," his voice turns into a soft plea, breaths panting between his words into your ear. Rearing back just a fraction, putting about an inch between your bodies, he gives you a look to accompany his plea. It's the softness in his eyes, the way his lips are slightly parted, and the pinch between his brows.

You find yourself spitting into your palm and sliding it between your bodies to grip his length. He pumps a few times, letting you work the moisture into his length before he grunts and jerks his chin up like he's dismissing your hand. None of this makes any sense, but the more that happens, the more the pieces start to fall into place. He's faking this. For some reason unknown to you, he's faking it...and he wants, no-...needs, you to play along. They have to believe it? His words from a moment ago are just now registering. "Yoongi?" His name comes out on a rasp as your eyes frantically flick around the room. Did someone come in while you weren't paying attention?

The hand that was covering your mouth slips into your hair and pulls your attention back to him. "Stay with me, princess, focus on me." He nods, eyes open and pleading for your understanding. You only manage a small, almost imperceptible nod. Relief flicks across his features before they morph back into a careful mask of indifference. He turns his head to the side, his chin dipping down to his shoulder like he's looking back toward the other side of the room again.

It becomes sort of a dance, a mockery of intimacy. Each time his hips snap forward, shoving his length between your thigh and stomach you feign pain, crying out or thrashing under him. He grunts out his own displeasure, calling you names and even going so far as to place his hand around your throat though he doesn't apply any pressure. The knife is still pressed against your thigh, a small reminder that anytime you need it, he can still hurt you, that maybe he still intends to. It's hard to think he's capable, considering what he's doing...faking this.

You rewet him a few times, trying to help ease the pass of his cock against your skin. All thoughts of arousal for you have gone out the window, you're solely focused on keeping up this illusion for however long is needed. You wish you knew what was going on, why the need for the theatrics. Wouldn't it have just been easier to do the real thing? You're trying to reason out the possibilities when there is a shift in Yoongi's demeanor. His eyes are shuttered closed, brow pinched tight, and his hips are losing their rhythm. "Please," you plead in a faux attempt to stop him, but you tighten the space he's pistoning into instead, encouraging him with your body.

"One more scream, princess," he grunts into the side of your neck. You can feel slick sweat from his forehead smearing onto your shoulder as he tilts his head down, bowing his body. You open your mouth to give him your best impression of a fearful yelp but it turns into a full-blown tearful bellow as he presses the tip of the knife against your thigh. It's just a small prick, but it stings. You grit your teeth and slap at his arm but you might as well be just a fly for as much as he pays attention to you.

The knife leaves your skin and you can feel a warm wetness bubble up. It's like a shock to the system, adrenaline pumps through your veins and you break out in a cold sweat. He actually cut you. You had thought the knife was just a pretense, something to get you to play along. A flare for the dramatic, sure, but you didn't honestly expect him to use it on you. He gives one last heaving grunt, his hips pulling back before another rush of warm wetness is on your body. You feel his fingers wipe across the small knick on your thigh before it smears across your core, mixing your blood with his cum. He had to fake it. The cold reality of that hits you like an ice block to the chest. The blood, the cum, it's all part of the act.

Yoongi finally heaves himself off your body, throwing back the blankets that were covering you. You catch the faintest glimmer of metal as he pushes the knife further under the blankets and out of sight. His gaze is locked between your thighs, drawing your own attention there. It's not as bad as you imagined in your head. There is far more cum than blood, just a soft swirl of pink and red. You can see that he rubbed it on himself, too, red dots his pelvis and pink-tinged moisture coats his now spent cock. You drop your knee, noticing the subtle chaffing blush on your skin where he fucked it.

If you didn't know any better, you'd think the sight between the two of you represents what you'd have expected it to be. But, it's not. For a reason still unknown to you. A reason you'll soon know, you'll demand it. He said he would explain and you're not going to let him go without doing so. "What-?" For what seems like the hundredth time tonight, he cuts off your questioning. All he does is raise his hand, palm out toward you, in a request of silence.

"Get cleaned up," he says to you, rolling his shoulders back. As he shifts his weight to throw a leg over your hips so he can roll out of the bed, he leans forward and whispers, "meet me out by the river." He's already sliding off the bed by the time his words truly register.

Yoongi grabs his jeans and pauses for a moment, glancing toward the far side of the room, then disappears into the bathroom. A moment later he's walking out, jeans on and snagging his sweater off the floor before exiting the room. You're left there, in a growing pool of wetness as the cum and blood mixture drips down your ass and onto the sheets.

Mind still reeling, you make your own way out of the bed, snatch up your clothes, and head into the bathroom to clean up. There is a small first-aid kit and fresh washcloth sitting on the sink. There is an already wet cloth discarded into the wicker hamper beside the sink. You clean up in a daze. Those puzzle pieces that were falling into place don't seem to fit nearly as nicely as you were starting to think. There is an ugly truth being revealed here, one you're not sure you want to know. The small cut on your thigh is mostly superficial, like Yoongi's intention was only to draw the smallest amount of blood that he could. It hardly requires a bandaid, having already clotted. You add a small one just for good measure, not wanting your jeans to scratch and irritate it.

By the time you exit the bathroom, Wenton is in the room, stripping the sheets from the bed. "Oh, shit!" You jump back in surprise, not expecting to see anyone, much less him, standing there.

"Sorry, Miss," he mutters, continuing with his task. "Just going to change the linens for you."

A queasiness settles into your stomach thinking about what's on those sheets. For a moment you think about the pocketknife. You step forward, intent on telling Wenton to watch himself, but you catch a glint of metal out of the corner of your eye and see the knife sitting on the bedside table like it was never anywhere else to begin with.

You can't make it out of the room fast enough. Flying down the stairs, you make a beeline for the mudroom and door to the patio out back. Cold air slaps you across the face, helping to cool your heated cheeks. You hadn't realized how flustered seeing Wenton wadding up the soiled sheets made you until now.

There is a winding stone path that leads down to the river. This stretch of the water is wide, serene as it meanders through the mountain. Yoongi has told you many stories about this cabin, about how all the boys would dare one another to swim across. The river isn't very dangerous here, but you know just down the way and around a bend it turns into rushing rapids that bleed into several rocky waterfalls. If you listen closely, you can hear the rush of water over stone in the distance, like a hushed whisper of darkness.

With no city lights nearby, the light pollution is next to nonexistent, leaving the stars and fat, near-full moon to shine brightly overhead. You catch the silhouette of Yoongi against the shine of the moon on the water. His back is to you as you approach the end of the stone path.

He turns toward you, waiting until you're right in front of him before he reaches out and begins to pat down your pockets.

"What are you doing?" You try to take a step back but he snags a hand in your sweater, stopping you from retreating.

"Your phone, it's inside?" he asks, bringing his eyes up to yours. You give a nod and he finally releases you.

You do take a step back now, putting a bit more space between the two of you. "Now, are you going to explain?"

He takes a deep, slow breath. "First, I want to apologize," his voice is soft but carries over the softer burbling from the water just a few feet away. He crosses his arms over his chest, his face unreadable in the dim light. "Second, I want to thank you for going along with...that," he flicks his fingers back towards the house before shoving them back into the crook of his elbow.

"What exactly was that?" you push, mirroring his cross-armed stance. Yoongi opens his mouth to speak but then his teeth click shut and his lips form a thin line. "No, you don't get to shut me out this time, Yoongi. Fucking. Speak. Now."

He lets out a frustrated grunt, his arms unfolding so he can mash the heels of his palms against his eyes. He grinds them before his hands slide down his face like he's trying to wipe away his stubborn hesitancy.

"There are things, big things, that you have no idea about," he begins. "Things that are bigger than both you and I. This," he gestures between the two of you, "is just a small piece of a much bigger, and darker picture. What I did in there, what we did in there, was for you."

You raise a skeptical eyebrow. "Keep going."

"We're married, it's what's expected...it's what they expect to happen, regardless of whether or not you want it. I've done nothing but fight on your behalf the last year. Relentlessly working toward a way to make things different. But, my hands are tied, have been tied...by that bastard." Yoongi begins to pace, shoving his hands in his pockets. "There are cameras everywhere, tracking devices, your phone," he gives you a quick glance before resuming his pacing, "we're both being watched. If I didn't make it seem like it happened, then we'd both be in big trouble."

"Why fake it? Why not just do it?" He's still not giving you the answers you need, he's holding back.

His face is pinched when he looks back at you. "I didn't want your first time to be like that," he whispers. "I couldn't take that from you, not like that."

"I don't understand."

Yoongi huffs another sigh. "I'm going to start from the beginning, I'll try to explain the best I can, okay?" You nod, relaxing back on the heels of your boots. "I never expected to have a happy or love-filled marriage, that's just not part of the deal when it comes to these things, right? But, I did try, in the beginning...and after a while, I started to care about you. Then...Namjoon came back from that assignment in Tokyo and everything changed."

The fact he's bringing up Namjoon throws up a red flag for you. "What does Namjoon have to do with this?"

"Everything." The word is so quiet you barely catch it. "He has everything to do with this. He's the one watching, he's the one that Wenton has been instructed to send our bedsheets to for testing, he's the one that forced me to be a monster to you, he's the one who has threatened your life if I don't make it a living hell," he finishes on a whisper, his voice thick with emotion.

Each new revelation is like a punch to the gut. "But why?" you sputter. What the actual fuck? You know Namjoon is an evil man, but what on earth did you do to earn his scorn to the point of death?

"It's not you, not really." Yoongi stops his pacing and comes to stand before you. He untangles your arms and clasps your hands in his. "While Namjoon was in Tokyo he found out something, something that derailed him." There is a sadness in his eyes as he continues, "What I'm about to tell you won't make you happy, but please know that it's true and I have proof if you need it."

He waits for you to acknowledge his words. "Okay," you agree, chewing your bottom lip, suddenly filled with trepidation.

"Your father is the reason our mother died."

Air leaves your lungs in a whoosh. "Don't be ridiculous."

"Please, I said it wouldn't make you happy, but you need to trust me. You wanted an explanation, this is it." His tongue darts out and wets his lips. "My mom was in love with your dad before she was forced into an arranged marriage with my father. They couldn't have children of their own, so that's why they adopted. She was always so happy on the outside, full of laughter and smiles. We lost her seven years ago. Father said it was an accident, she slipped and fell down the stairs. We were all away, either in school or working. We never got to see her body, just the blood in the foyer before it was cleaned up."

"They were in love at one point. So what? All of this just sounds like an excuse for you and your family to do shitty things."

Yoongi gives your hands, still held in his, a small squeeze. "Just, let me explain. They continued to see one another even after they both married. Your mother was just as unaware as my father, at least, as far as I know, she was. When Namjoon was in Tokyo, he came across some old files that had my mom's name on them. Her death nearly destroyed him, what he found was the last straw needed. The files lead to a small apartment, old and abandoned. It was filled with some of her things, bottles of her perfume, along with men's cologne and suits. Tucked away in a small box were two letters. One was a suicide letter, addressed to your father. The writing is unmistakably my mother's. The other was a letter signed by your father to our mother, essentially ending their near twenty-year tryst. My mother was heartbroken, so she took her own life."

A shiver runs through you, one not from the cold air seeping beneath your sweater. "I don't know what to say," you whisper, blinking back the emotion threatening your lash line. It's the whiplash from the bedroom all over again. He's treated you so horribly over the last year, all for what? Because Namjoon is holding some sort of grudge for something you had no part in...is that really a good enough reason? Part of you is melting with sympathy, begging your mind to wrap around this as an act of kindness; the lesser of two evils. But, another part of you is disgusted and outraged that Yoongi didn't bring this to your attention much sooner. Instead of making you aware of what was happening and making a plan with you, Yoongi took it upon himself to play into Namjoon's hands, let his strings be pulled, and turn him into a macabre puppet of some kind. "Did the proposal even have anything to do with how you've acted? Or was that just a coincidence?"

"That was me...all me. I thought I could use that as a way to get you out, a way to speed up the process. I thought, maybe if you said yes and had shown a desire to get married sooner, then dad would have allowed it and we would have been out of the house and away from Namjoon, giving me more space to be able to come up with a better plan. The anger from your denial was real, that was me...acting like an insensitive jerk being rejected by the pretty girl." He at least looks ashamed, the way his cheeks pink a little and his brow scrunches. "I never should have taken my frustrations out on you, but it made the transition into my compromise with Namjoon seem authentic on the outside. Everyone thought I was lashing out because of that, so no one suspected anything different."

"So, no one else knows...about any of this?"

"No one. Wenton knows a little, he knows he needs to do what Namjoon requests, but no more than that. My father doesn't know, won't know. Namjoon doesn't want him to know because he's worried he'll take matters into his own hands in regards to you. He came directly to me. He wanted to take you away, make you suffer for what your father did. I tried to make him see reason, that the sins of the father couldn't be blamed on the daughter. He wouldn't listen, so I finally compromised with him. I agreed to make your life a living hell, make you suffer, as long as he kept away. The more I push you, the more I hurt you, the more satisfied he is with keeping you alive...if only to see you hurt more. I've tried everything, ignoring you, leaving you for weeks on end, but every time I was gone for too long or spent too many days letting you live in peace, he'd swoop in and remind me of his threat," his voice breaks. "I've spent the last year protecting you from a different kind of evil...but, I don't know how much more I can take. I don't know how many more days I can look into your eyes and see hate staring back at me. So, I've been working on a plan to get you away from here...to finally set you free."

Freedom. Is that even possible? For that matter, is Yoongi even telling the truth?

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archivxx · 1 year

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✯[0.07]✯

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Note: Clyde and I have absolutely nothing in common. This wouldn’t be an issue except we have to spend at least 10 minutes every Thursday together.

You arrived to fake dating Thursday late and in the foulest of moods. You had missed your alarm to wake up and nothing seemed to be going your way since opening your eyes. Your phone hadn’t charged over night. There was no instant coffee left—thank god you were about to be in a coffee shop—and you couldn’t find the words for your pitch to Pete Thelman.

You paused outside the doors of the shop. Taking a moment to breathe and organise your thoughts. You took one last deep breath and slapped on the best smile you could conjure. You needed to be at home working on your pitch, working with the band on the pitch organising stuff. Not waisting your time in a coffee shop on a coffee you didn’t particularly want with a person you most definitely didn’t want to talk to.

Ugh.

When you stepped inside the cafe Clyde was already there. He had a deep crease set between his brows, he was annoyed. You sighed and walked over to him.

“Um hi Clyde.” You we’re embarrassed at your lateness, it wasn’t like you to be this late. You’d also some how managed to startle him, you knew this as he’d gone ridged as he turned to you.

“Oh—oh hello.” His shoulders dropped and he turned his back on you to the counter as he pocketed his phone. “I was waiting for you to arrive before I ordered, what do you want?”

“Oh don’t worry I’ll order separately!”

“What? No I’m paying so I’ll order for you.”

“No no. You really don’t have to. Besides I don’t want to owe you.” You could feel beads of sweat forming at your hairline. You really would love to accept the offer but being in debt to anyone was unnecessary, especially when that “anyone” is actually Clyde Donovan.

“You won’t owe me anything, I don’t want anything in return. Seriously, Y/N, get whatever and I’ll pay.” He insisted and it seemed like he wouldn’t back down so you caved.

“Fine.” You let out an exasperated and defeated sigh.

“Get whatever I don’t mind, I’ll pay.”

You were definitely and clearly reluctant to do so at first till it clicked, you may as well use this to your advantage. After all, you’re extremely underplayed and hardly ever eat a real meal, or anything for that matter. You grinned, you knew this would give him a little bit of trouble and for some unexplainable reason, you wanted to annoy him. “I’ll have a pumpkin spice ice coffee, three pumps of cream and and one pump of cinnamon syrup please.”

He deadpanned, completely unfazed by your request. The turned his head from you to the woman behind the counter and rhymed off your order. “Can I get a Pumpkin spice ice coffee with three pumps of cream and one pump of cinnamon syrup,” you swore you saw him roll his eyes. “And I’ll have a black coffee.”

Your jaw practically broke. He wanted a what? For some reason you were surprised that you were so surprised by his order. He had painted you as the type of guy to not like anything with flavour in his life, it was almost like the shoe fit too well. You were even more so shocked your assumption was right.

“Typical.” You mumbled under your breath. But you almost immediately regretted it. You begged the god the hadn’t heard, and you would have made it unscathed if your face wasn’t flushed red.

“What?”

“Oh—I um said it’s typical that you would order a black coffee.” Well there was certainly no turning back now.

“What do you mean by that?”

“I don’t know. I guess the shoe just fits.”

“I get the feeling that’s not exactly a compliment.”

A part of you wished the floor would just open up and swallow you whole, or you could get out of this conversation immediately and preferably run to a corner and never be seen again. But you couldn’t do either so you opted for the only option you could conjure; not answering him.

You could sense that he was waiting for some kind of response however you had none to give, so to make it more clear that you were avoiding the conversation you pulled your phone out to check the group chat. It had been a while since you last checked out what was going on, you’d been surprisingly busy over the last few days.

You rolled your eyes and turned your phone off. Some distraction they were.

The barista called out your order and you practically leapt for the drink. You were running on about 2 hours sleep and no coffee, you were deprived. You sighed and pick up your drink taking a long sip and making a satisfied sigh. You’d needed this.

Clyde, on the other hand, was watching you with a disgusted expression. You could feel his gaze on you so you looked at him, only to be met like his nose scrunched up and his eyebrows knotted together.

“What?”

He practically gagged. “I don’t know how you drink that sugary crap.”

“You mean fall in a cup? I don’t know how you don’t drink this sugary crap.”

“Still crap.”

“Shut up, you always have to be a Debbie downer don’t you?”

He rolled his eyes. “Whatever, just keep that pumpkin spice fall barf away from me.” You could have sworn you saw the corner of his mouth jerk.

“Fine fine.”

You made your way over to a table. He followed you quickly and took the seat across from you. You pulled your phone out of your pocket and set it on the table.

You sat in an extremely awkward silence, clearly both of you were wracking your brain for any topic whatsoever to talk about. But no matter how much you searched you only ended up at a dead end. That was when it dawned on you; you and Clyde haven’t got a single thing in common. This would definitely effect fake dating Thursday from now on.

You sighed and sat back in your seat uncomfortably telling yourself that it wasn’t that bad, but you knew for a fact that it was. This was really really bad. How were you only going to spend the next few months with him every Thursday, even just for 10 minutes without a single thing to talk about. You could gossip to him but he really didn’t seem like the type of person.

Something possessed you to check the time, so you did, and almost passed out. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry I have to go like right now. Thank you for buying me the drink and I’ll see you next Thursday.” You dove for the door as his goodbye chased after you, be before it could reach you, you were already out and on your way to the conference room to meet with your producer.

Masterlist

Taglist: @carinaryen @bootsieboo @southparktegreity @h3artilly

#south park #bounded smau #clyde donovan #reader insert #clyde donovan x reader #kenny mccormick #kyle brovlofski #craig tucker #nichole daniels #tolkien black #stan marsh

28 notes · View notes

pwblogarchive · 2 months

Text

October 2004

October 2, 2004

“I Wrote The Word “Regret” On My Hand To Remember To Call You”

Its a fixedcat fight. And I’m going down fast, but I’m winking. Faking it. Tbs tour in chicago. You remeber 3 years ago when us and tbs first played chicago. Yeah to like 20 kids. So thank you for tonight. We are having so much fun. We have so many new songs.

Do you ever see someone just sitting alone and feel so bad. Just low. Like you just know they aren’t connected to anyone? Maybe that’s just me. I want this record to make those people feel okay, cause we all get there sometimes… Go read hey chris’s zine. Its pretty good.

Don’t roll your eyes at me I only want to write a song to suit your every mood.

October 4, 2004

“Its Not Gossip If Its The Truth”

Day off in omaha. Got some new tricks for you. Including: a green slytherin tie, members only jacket, and napoleon dynamite on dvd (youknowyouwantityouknowyouwantit). My hair is new black on blonde I don’t know what to think of it just yet. Me and dirty have been making funny videos that I hope you get to see soon. I don’t know why I read the internet- aaron from matchbook told me about our kickball game being written about on absolutepunk (jason tate is my homeboy- however it wasn’t teammatchbook that won it- it was team dirty consisting of: dirty, me, andy hurley, judas mbr, fred tbs, and mark tbs- we smoked the competition… So let the internet know. If you wanna play some kickball come find us. We leave for l.a. To record our record in november- I’m excited. We have these shows coming up on the east coast in december please get your tickets early, they will sell out.

I’ve got sunsets in my veins like you don’t even know.

October 6, 2004

“I’m A Headache Kid With Targets For Eyes”

Denver. singing one mile up. Had the best time till joe hit me in the head with his guitar. Yes again. It knocked me out. I apologize. We finished the set and we hope everyone still had a good time. I can’t sleep. I need your heart beat. I’ve been working on my other book, I can’t wait to see the west coast again. Then for florida we got great halloween costumes for you.

You could have taken the place of oxygen for me.

Peterpumpkin eater

October 7, 2004

“This Is A Love Song In My Own Fucked Up Way”

somewhere along the line i stopped believing in this. i stopped trying to match our breathing when we fell asleep. i hear about the way you brag about how all the songs are about you. only someone like you could ever be proud of that.

October 7, 2004

“Lets Walk This Romance Until Its Bitter End”

flew into seattle at 6:45 am today. eyes stuck shut with sleep in them. our entire band and crew was pulled aside and searched. we can’t tune guitars, theres no way we could bomb anything. i hate flying. i find myself assessing my life every time we hit a bump- if someone’s keeping score then i am fucked. got to play with a ton of great bands today. hung with my chemical romance a bunch- me and mikey, their bassist, have a gang called “the sweet little dudes”. we’re gonna make a secret handshake. trust me, you’re jealous. don’t be suprised if you see us on tour together in the future. the lost prophets had a party tonight, where they shot their new video. i did lots of monster faces for the camera, maybe you will see it. got another excerpt from my other book (not the boy with the thorn in his side) over at: www.fueledbyramen.com/journal -

sorry for all the complaining. it just comes so easy to me.

October 8, 2004

"atlanta to san jose"

The first thing I ever knew about her was a lie. Her lips curl when she’s talking about the “Q”. her middle name is “Q” she says.

but it’s not. She’s regular. She’s normal just like me. But Her lips still curl when she is hoping she isn’t caught.

Except she always is.

She reminds me of the anecdote about the lab rat who chose the intense pleasure button over the food button. He probably starved to death.

But I’m sure he’s reliving the glory days up in rat heaven.

I call her up to tell her to build me a model scale version of San Francisco because I have a great idea for a disaster.

She must be on the internet because the phone just keeps ringing. Right now I want to shoot every single fucking employee at Earthlink.

What do overweight Ethiopians, free money, the tooth fairy- and Q as a middle name have in common?

Liar.

I hate how I can’t stop thinking about the liar.

Freud says love is the sublimation of sexual impulses.

I say we are all lab rats. And consider this a failed experiment.

He says we sublimate our sexual desires to make them palatable to society.

This is what love is.

I say this must be a clinical trial.

And I am the control.

She is the “Stockholm Effect”- you know back in the seventies when victims fell in love with their kidnappers.

Yeah. She’s mostly like that.

She is the middle parts of Great Expectations. You know right before things go really wrong for Pip (and This wouldn’t be my story if I weren’t Pip).

God, I love victim culture.

I love Jeffrey Dahmer being a victim of society.

I love Patty Hearst. I love the “Stockholm Effect”.

The great victims of our culture. Aren’t we all?

Sexuality was first examined scientifically in the 19th century. Before that religion fielded all questions.

That didn’t work so well.

Love was not examined scientifically until the late 20th century.

Erich Fromm suggested that infatuation was a plan by Mother Nature to promote the survival of the species. See with out infatuation cave men would never have overcome the fear of interacting and eventually having sex with other clans. Thus ensuring the survival of the species.

This is what is commonly considered a breakthrough. Freud is spinning in his grave.

Our extinction is a Hallmark card away.

He later suggests that in order to love someone else one must love themselves. A classic “needs before other needs” argument.

Unfortunately, no one really loves themselves. And if they do, they need to get to know themselves better. Unfortunately, no one is really happy. So, let’s be unhappy together.

I call her up to tell her to build a mini version of San Jose for me to devastate.

Her roommate tells me she is on the phone long-distance with her aunt.

I want to kill every member of her extended family.

Phenylethylamine (PEA), the chemical responsible for the swooning and feelings of adoration, is structurally similar to cocaine. Most people choose cocaine over love when given the chance.

I wouldn’t say that’s a bad choice.

The endorphins released during infatuation are similar to heroin; only they don’t make you skinny and pale. Oxytocin, “the cuddling hormone” most often found in new mothers and newlyweds, are like ecstasy- every touch feels a bit tinglier.

Love exists in a bottle. In a syringe. I want mine diluted with water.

Most people would choose gambling over love when given the chance. We are the rat.

Most people choose pornography over love when given the chance. We are the cave-man.

Hallmark cards and boxes of Fanny-May chocolates will save humanity.

It’s all in the marketing. Kellogg and the original Graham Cracker originally marketed their products as a way to stifle teenage masturbation

I call her up to go over the blue prints for a miniature Atlanta because I crave catastrophe.

Her answering machine picks up. Right now I hate her voice.

It reminds me of how much I think about her.

She is the fraud. The faker. I can’t stop thinking about her.

I miss her lips curling with those lies.

I miss her body- See, she has a body that will go to the pornstar retirement home in her golden years- or prostitute heaven.

to my favorite liar: you were always/never just a line in a song.

- petey

October 9, 2004

Release The Brats

Canada was amazing. Vancouver. Kissing weather but no kissing was done. If you’re coming out to any shows anytime soon I am in need of this one kind of shampoo its called purple shampoo or its in a purple bottle- it washes the color out of blonde hair- anyway the black is sneaking into the blonde and I need some. You can get it at beauty supply places. Ill hook you up with some merch or clan gear… Here’s the hitch I only need one bottle…

I’ve been calling you late at night in my mind. My bed misses me and you.

Petey

President of the brats.

Sweet lil dudes gang

October 10, 2004

“Status Report: I Am Missing You To Death”

so the update. i got the shampoo so ignore the earlier post, though thank you for even caring at all. im in portland.

i used to have headaches.

then i met you. now im onto

something new.

October 11, 2004

“143”

I could tell she was searching for something. Something punishing. Something unforgivable.

“I hope your plane crashes.”

Somewhere deep down so did i.

she always had this look of awe on her face when i looked at her (i should have told her, i don’t do “awe” but i will settle for “sympathy”). we all settle- sometimes you want chocolate and all they have is vanilla- sometimes you want romance, and instead you got me. im the sick feeling in your stomach the next morning when you remember the night before. i am the trash on the floor after the last dance.

i can only sleep on tylenol pms lately and they cant touch these headaches.

i swear to god i would give this all up if you asked.

the way i’d pretend that i could see you and not have my hands all over you if you would pretend i didn’t know everything.

the way i wrote every song about you, because of you, for you. but you were still always the first person i played them for.

how i cant pull the trigger.

im all the parts of a bullet but the powder.

if you were smart you’d skip this part.

you’d just stop reading.

i know this jumps around everywhere and doesn’t make much sense. i didn’t write this one. my moods did.

somewhere along the way. you decided i was settling.

but i never gave up on anything as pretty as you.

everytime the plane bumps, i think of you.

we cant stand being this close to eachother, even inside of IM windows.

and you said “im turning my phone off, ive had enough of this conversation for the night”.

and i think maybe that theres still a chance.

its like roulette- if the phones on then you still love me, theres still a chance. if it’s off- then i was wrong.

its like roulette, and im putting all my chips on black.

(your phone is off).

i never stood a chance. the house always wins.

imagine me at my worst- and i am just past that.

the sign on the road says “welcome to rock bottom”.

i own all the real estate.

this is us both signing off.

October 15, 2004

“Songs Don’t Settle Scores So How About Me And All My Friends Vs. You And All Of Yours”

If you’ve seen me around lately, I’m not sad or in a bad mood. I’m sick. It gets me really quiet and weird. I apologize. The west coast is so much fun. My mom is the cutest. She thinks someone broke into our house to steal new fall out boy demos, hehe, pretty good. Just on this side of crazy. I love my mom. This journal entry is all over the place. So I posted some pics of the new hair- you gotta look around and you’ll find them… Its not too hard. Got some good news for you soon.

October 15, 2004

12:08 am.

fuck your friends page, cause i said so

October 19, 2004

“Jason Tate Doesn’t Ever Call Me Back”

Vegas. The luck only goes one way. Piece of advice. Don’t bet all your merch money on red. Don’t dream of anyone except me. Were half way there. We’ve got even newer songs, some new merch, and some new ways of throwing it all away.

Jared tell jason to call me.

Peter

October 21, 2004

“If Its Any Consolation”

Every song on our next record will be about killing the head cheerleader.

October 24, 2004

“Cowboys And Girls.”

There’s something intensely foreign but endearing about texas. Put the love on hold. We move slow.

Were sitting out dances on the wall of club after the show. You said “I’m faded, but you should think this over cause it could take all night”. But I’m pretty sure you were just faded. My bunk feels like a coffin tonight. The airs humid here, hard to breathe- it makes every pull worth it. You’re lighting cigarettes off of eachother. You say it calms your nerves, but it doesn’t show.

Texas is the reason: apple soda, frozen poptarts, holister kids: ashley, jamie, renee, my dad, long letters vs. Short emails, laguna beach, zombie make up, dirty, cranberry and vodka minus the vodka.

Oh yeah, I guess some people brought me cigarettes to the show. I don’t smoke. That’s joe who posted that. Also, don’t feel like you have to bring anything.

Take this as it is. Spit: this is the curtain call on desperation. So come out and take a bow. Depression is so 90s. Hit it or quit it. There’s a world out there and I’m almost ready to feel alive in it. This is me telling you no one will ever feel like that again.

Lateralligator.

Peterpan

October 26, 2004

“Everywhere I Go I Keep Her Picture In My Wallet”

Sometimes you take chances. You take and and take. And then you take when you should have folded. Read this as: I’m sorry. Please forgive me. And know its true. No love is unconditional.

See you soon.

….fellas like me only spit lines like we’ve got somthing to prove. And all the boys want to dance with girls like you…..

October 27, 2004

“Where America Goes To Die”

Florida: we’re gonna have a new limited shirt just for you, beginning at the st. Pete show.

Also, if anyone wants to carve pumpkins. Come to the show early and ask for me or our tour manager dan. Here’s the catch. You have to supply the pumpkins, the knives and the spoons.

Peter

October 28, 2004

You know the funny thing is I already know how its gonna turn out.

Get the book: www.clandestineindustries.com

- petey

October 30, 2004

“My Wrists Are Black And Blue Cause I Don’t Have The Balls”

Fuck. I wish I could scream this into the screen. I don’t feel too eloquent right now.

Icalled you to save me. Voicemails don’t mean shit these days.

Its not worth the wishes on clocks and eyelashes anymore.

#fall out boy #pete wentz #livejournal #pete wentz livejournal

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mj-skyair-star · 1 year

Text

█🕹️👾🎮Prologue: Party Time!░▒▓█

March 28th, 2036, Friday night, 8:05 p.m.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Do I really want to go?" I thought to myself after I put on a teal casual jacket.

Tonight is the night that I was invited to my best friend's party at her place.

Knock, knock, knock.

I glanced at my bedroom door to see it opening 'itself' while someone peeked their head behind the white wooden door. It was my mum.

"We're leaving in five minutes, and your dad will pick you up at 9:30. Also your brother is coming with us so I can take him to the hospital,"

"Uh… Okay, mum," I gave her a fake smile.

My mum is a bit clueless that my smile is fake, which is a dandy thing, I guess...

After she left (with the door closed), I walked over to my bed, sat down, and let out a huge sigh.

"Is it even a wise idea for me to show up? I'm not even a fan of parties..." Shaking it off, I decided to think of something to entertain myself for the rest of five minutes... hm... Oh!

I sat up and rushed my way excitedly to my game collection to find my favourite game (which I still need to complete). That game I'm talking about is called 'War of Time.' It's about futuristic robot heroes called 'The Cosmic Five' who set out on a quest to stop Artron from controlling all timelines. However, Artron only needs a very special crystal in order to activate the machine, which was made by Dr Brainstorm, the evil robotic genius.

I don't think it was a bother to explain more in detail.

When I finally found it, something was off... I may have overreacted...

"MY GAME!" I screamed.

My eyes widened at the front cover. Despite the background, the characters' pictures are completely blank. I don't know how or what happened, but what I do know is that I was upset about it.

Thud, thud, thud!

"Airis!? Are you ok!?" Arrow burst into the room looking all panicked. It looks like I may have interrupted his game. How? He was wearing Wireless Gaming Headphones (W.G.H for short) with a mini microphone so he could talk to his friends online. "Sorry guys, give me a sec..." he whispered through his mic before he pulled down his black and green headphones till they were hanging around his neck.

Still overreacting, I swiftly shoved the game cover in his face, not too close.

"The characters are not there! Look!"

"My God! You don't need to shove things in my face!" Annoyed, he snatched it off me to have a look at it. Arrow didn't seem bothered, although I could tell he was confused at the same time. On the other hand, his response to that would be something like 'this situation was nothing' and just as I thought, his mood changed and he shrugged his shoulders. "Dad might have pranked you," he said.

"Seriously!? That's your response!?!?"

"Dad doesn't even do pranks!"

"Well, I'm gonna be honest, I don't know what to think of it. Maybe you got an unfinished front cover and you didn't notice it," he shrugged again.

"Dude! I have this game and have played it for a year! It didn't look like that when I first got it!" I raised my voice a tad louder.

I didn't even notice it.

"Will you relax, Miss Overreacting?" He asked sarcastically.

"I'm not Miss Overreacting!" Yes, I am.

It doesn't make any sense...

"What's going on here? Please don't tell me you guys are fighting?" Both me and Arrow turned our heads to the door to see Ava appearing in my room, like the clever little ninja she is. Ava looked pretty worried. "I heard Airis yelling from my room..." Oh boy, let's hope mum or dad doesn't come up here next-

"It's a false alarm, Ava. It's just Iris overreacting to something that's nothing to be very concerned about, and there were no fights between us," Arrow told her calmly.

He gave me back my game and then gently pushed the ten-year-old out of my room, so he could head back to his room and continue on with his game, and chatting with his friends.

"Oh... if you say so..." That was the last thing I heard from Ava.

I was so mad. Very mad that Arrow-... Or... I don't know if he's right or not, but it seems that way to me... I don't believe he is. I mean... it's just the front cover... totally.

Moving on, I opened up the game cover to get the disc. Inserting the disc in the PS5 console and then turning on my TV, I picked up my controller so I could get the game started.

I soon noticed something was very wrong, again.

"Where are the characters?" I said out loud in a puzzled manner.

Yeah, not only does the front cover disappear randomly, but so do the characters on the screen.

"Bugged?" That's the only thing I can think of.

I turned the PS5 off and on like I normally do whenever there is an easy fix... Nothing has changed. The characters are still not there... Even when I checked my savings, they were not there... This is just getting too weird. I stared at the screen like I knew something was suspicious... How?

Just checking (for a theory), I went to pick out a random game from the shelf. 'Hovercraft Surf'.

The characters on the front cover are there.

I switched the discs to see if anything changed.

… So far the characters are there in that specific game... So it has nothing to do with the PS5, it has something to do with a video game, huh? I see...

Oh, don't tell me I need to buy a replacement! Video games are extremely expensive nowadays!

"Airis! Arrow! It's time to go!" ...

Ugh! I'll have to deal with this tomorrow, then.

I turn off the TV and PS5 while placing my controller next to the white and black console, then exit my room to head downstairs to meet mum at the front.

***

"You got your phone, Airis?"

"Yep," I pulled out my Samsung phone from my pocket and showed it to mum who was looking through the rearview mirror.

"Good," she nodded. We arrived at my friend's house. Looking out through the window, I saw coloured lights changing different colours through the house window. "Have fun in there," my mum told me with a happy smile just as I placed my phone back in my pocket and left the car from the back, and then closed the back door behind me.

"Thanks, see ya," I waved.

"Bye sweetie,"

"See ya, Iris," with the final goodbye from them, I watched until the silver car disappeared... I always wondered why mum needed to take Arrow to the hospital.

I suppose I have witnessed Arrow acting strange for the past few weeks, maybe that's why.

I turned to the front of the house, took a deep breath and walked up to the brown front door nervously. The music is pretty loud but not loud enough to draw complaints from neighbours.

Using my fist I knocked on the wooden door.

The door opened to reveal a light brown-haired (a bit chubby) girl in her lovely white shirt that said 'Party Time!' Featuring party hats, streamers, and colourful writing. Her shirt is also tucked underneath her light pink overalls skirt. That's my best friend Sophia.

"Oh hey, Airis! Come in," she happily giggled lightly as she unlocked the door and stepped aside to allow me in.

Just as I entered my eyes widened. There are a lot of people here, some from my school and some... I don't even recognise most of them... They looked about three years older than Sophia and me.

Surprisingly, Clifton isn't here... Okay, maybe not surprised. He told me himself that he doesn't like parties. Not only that, he is well known to be the scariest guy in the whole primary school, so I see why no one would invite him. A bit off-topic. I couldn't help but think of this party, particularly of its unrecognised guests who may be strangers.

"Are they even from our school? If they are just a bunch of strangers... What was Soph thinking?" That's one of the reasons why I'm not a fan of parties.

Mum and dad will tell me about the possible dangers when it comes to parties once you hit teen/adulthood. Those enjoyable memories of your past parties as a child will eventually fade away into something far different. I'm not saying that parties aren't fun, no! I won't deny that I enjoyed them when I was younger... Well, the only difference is, it was a birthday party, not an entertainment party. However, they can be fun... What won't be fun is if someone decides to put pills in your drink, kidnap you, murder you or even assault you.

You would be a goner to go through that.

I get anxious when it comes to strangers... to make matters worse, this is Sophia's first time hosting a party... at her place. I truly hope that her little sister Bella isn't here. She's way too young to be here at all unless she's with her parents, and I know Amethyst can't be here since she moved out for her studies not so long ago (a big bummer that the eldest sister can't keep an eye on things or even teach Sophia the safety of these types of parties).

We're in year six for God's sake! How could her parents allow this many people?! Are they even here??? What I would be questioning most is- is she aware that there are some random people showing up too? Probably mistaken it for some other type of party?

***

A few hours later.

I was sitting next to Sophia, watching her and my two other friends, Jessica and Quinn, talking about a topic that I couldn't even relate to. It was about a boy band that I'm not into. At least they are having fun. On the other hand, I am not. When I tried speaking at some conversations (to blend in or at least feel included), Jessica would stare at me in some way that made me feel uneasy (it happens every time). It was like judgement telling me to stop talking.

What did I do?

Quite often I move on by pulling a random drama that's currently happening (from Tiktok) out of my sleeves to change the subject. It worked, luckily, and I could've talked more about any drama topic if I got a sense of ease from Jessica to allow me to... This is also another reason why I don't like parties; awkward conversations.

As I felt alone in the absence of my friends making me feel left out, a sudden thought came to me about the time... I didn't know what time it was, so I got up and told my friends that 'I need to go to the bathroom'. (They hardly paid any attention) I left for a bit.

I squished past some wild crowds to find the clock on the wall (not thinking I had a phone).

Once I did.

"9:39!? CRAP! My dad must be waiting at the front!" I ran past the wild crowds again, hurriedly getting back to Sophia, Jessica and Quinn.

As I got there, I tapped Sophia's shoulder to get her attention. Jessica's conversation with the girls was interrupted. It's her house, after all, and I'm her best friend. Therefore, I have to let her know rather than leaving her to wonder where I am or think I ditched her, Quinn, and Jessica or just ditched the party.

"Hey, uh, I got to run now..."

"Oh... ok," Sophia sighs, almost disappointed that I have to leave now.

"Oh, you're leaving already? Ok- whatever, bye, Erica," Jessica waved while focusing on her manicure.

"Uh, my name is Airis, Jes-"

"Are you deaf!? She said bye!" Quinn yelled angrily, startling me, Sophia and some of the guests- they also quickly moved away from our area.

That was unexpectedly random of Quinn.

"What was that about!?"

"Yeah, I said bye so why are you still here?" Jessica asked harshly.

The way she said that hurt me. Not too much. As calm as a clam, I respond.

"I heard what you said. I was only correcting a mistak-"

"A mistake that you exist," she rotten out...

I glanced over at Sophia who had her head away from me... Now I honestly feel like crying at this moment.

"... I think you should leave..."

"... Soph too..?" Taking a few steps back, I turned my full body away from the girls and rushed my way out of the house.

I use my eyes to look for dad's blue car.

I found it.

Upon reaching it, I opened the front seat door and jumped inside before closing it. I cannot understand why they are so cruel to me... they didn't really mean it- they just- they're my friends. I'm sure Jess didn't mean it. She must be tired as well as Quinn... Right? Am I right? RIGHT!?

"There you are! I've been messaging and waiting for you for ten minutes! I was about to get you myself," he told me with a hint of relief that left him slightly upset.

He has the right to feel that way. I understand parents' fears about their children set off on their own when they reach their teenage years.

I've been a tad guilty about it, though I'm in the thought of irritation about how the girls treated me...

"Sorry, dad. I didn't hear my phone and I lost track of time..." I told him after putting my seat belt on.

Dad sighed calmly while he turned on the blue car's engine.

"It's alright. Next time, unmute your phone or check the time more frequently rather than every time you feel like checking," he said before starting to drive, taking us home.

Good thing he didn't suspect anything about how I'm feeling right now, and good thing I didn't start crying for a sensitive girl like me.

I never dared to look back at Sophia's house...

While driving back home, my thoughts had me convinced it was an accident.

"They didn't mean it and they were only tired because of the party... I hope..."

***

We arrived home safe and sound.

Just as we got inside our home, I realised that I didn't have my phone on me once I felt my pocket...

"I left my phone at Sophia's house... Crap! That explains why I didn't hear a message come through!" Freaking out about it, my dad took notice that something was up.

"Is something wrong, Iris?" I became more freaked out by his question and the possible reaction as to why I didn't receive his text... Dad is well known for not leaving anyone alone until they confess what was wrong or hiding.

… So I gathered some courage to answer.

"I... er... Left my phone at Sophia's house..."

"What!? Are you sure?!"

"Y-Yeah..." I stuttered with a nod.

Luckily I have the most chill-pill dad, unlike my mum who will murder me for losing an expensive phone that she gave to me, at the start of this year... It was a gift from her, only in case I was in danger, and was also a reward for my grades last year.

"Then we'll have to go back and-"

"Wait!" Dad was about to get ready to leave again, though I stopped him on time, only because I know he'll report the party to Sophia's parents about strangers in her house who don't seem like primary school kids. I didn't want Sophia to get in trouble. "Can't I just walk to her place to get it?" It's funny that I asked him that.

I had never walked at night alone before, admittedly I wanted to try that out. Next year I'll be in high school. Surely I'm old enough to do that.

Dad frowned at me as if I was crazy.

"Airis, it's too dangerous to be out at night-"

"I know, but we just got here, and you already have your shoes off. Besides, her house is only ten minutes awa-"

"No Airis, you are not going out in the middle of the night. I'm sure Sophia might have noticed your phone was left behind as soon as she recognised it. Let's hope no one steals it. You know how angry your mum gets..." Oh trust me, I am tremendously aware of how angry mum will get. I remember Arrow getting in trouble for losing a special watch that had been passed down for generations... Wait, that was dad. "You'll have to pick it up tomorrow, then. Good thing it's Saturday the next day,"

"Tomorrow?! I can't live without it! I got to get it now!" For the love of God! In what way can he be sure that Sophia can keep it safe from theft? What if she doesn't know and someone has already taken it?! I don't want someone trying to hack through my phone to look through my privacy! I am NOT allowing that to happen!

That was when an idea popped into my head… God, it’s such a bad idea as well…

Letting out a fake yawn, I told my dad I was tired and that I 'agreed' with what he said. He said ok and good night before disappearing into the lounge room (to watch TV).

I headed upstairs to my bedroom and waited for my dad to sleep. Alright, this is very unlike me but I have to do it! I have anxiety about what will happen to my phone and getting in trouble with mum! And praying to God that my phone is still at Sophia's.

My plan is to sneak out: Once the time is right, I'll stuff some pillows under my cosy blanket so it makes it look like 'I' was 'sleeping' (in case mum gets back with Arrow to check on me. She always checks on me and siblings before heading off to bed unless she's way too tired to do that once she and Arrow are back), then sneakily leaves the house through the front by using my house keys and then heads to Sophia's place to get my phone- hopeful.

Piece of cake!

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Chapter 1 |>

#GWU #Game World Universe #a little drama #video games #prologue #original story by MJ Skyair #Hope you enjoy the read!#parties are for losers/j #betrayal friendship?#weird somethings happening?#why are *** so god damn big!?

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thatfuzzyfamiliarspace · 2 years

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My anxiety is mental today. The intrusive thoughts are fighting hard to win. Yet I’m still forcing myself to eat. Even as my brain tries to make me nauseous with every bite coming up with gruesome things. Telling me my friends hate me. That I don’t look good. That I’m failing at life. That the people at the new job have unrealistic expectations of me already. That I’m not doing well with money. Everything is stressing me out and making me feel like shit.

But I got up today. I got dressed. I ate breakfast. I went outside I did something for a friend. I’m gonna see Grace and Molly in a min. I’m gonna message Alex to see if she wants to go for a walk. I don’t wanna do any of this but I’m forcing myself. I’m even gonna message James and tell him I’m not coming out today for his birthday. I feel awful but I may as well let him know rather than keep airing him. I’m gonna speak with J later and see when I can organise to meet the guys for a meal. I’ve just gotta make myself do this shit. Even if I feel like utter shit whilst doing it all. Fake it till you make it.

I feel so debilitated rn. So emotional. Idk when I’m next seeing J. We have no set plans this week. He hasn’t even confirmed a day to come gym. Ik he needs to rest, recover and relax from his hard weekend of working. So I just feel like I’m not gonna get to see him. It’s not having anything to look forward to that makes it so meh. The uncertainty. Ik he’ll say to just make myself busy. Which Im tryna do. But I still feel like crap. I miss him so much. I can’t get out my head what he said at lunch the other day. That he questions, everyday, if he made the right decision.. he thinks that every day ? Is he constantly weighing it up ? Weighing me up ? I just feel an immense pressure now. That I need to live up to being more for him. Or he’ll regret his choice. I need to be this person he believes I am. As soon as I slip I panic. Whether it be my mood, my dailys, money, my attitude or anything. He thinks it everyday. I don’t ever doubt us. I don’t doubt my choice to leave Thelo either. I may miss aspects of him but I know I made the right choice. The fact he thinks that’s everyday. It’s heartbreaking.

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sunboki · 2 years

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WIPING OFF SKZ’S KISSES

including; bangchan, han jisung, seo changbin, lee felix, hwang hyunjin, lee minho, kim seungmin, yang jeongin

genre; fluff:)

BANGCHAN had you cuddled in his lap, typing away on the keyboard and carefully testing out rhythms with an effortlessly attractive focused expression. however it seemed he took hint of your watchful eyes, filled with adoration as you spent the extra seconds soaking in this type of chan. “was i zoning out?” he voiced, brows knitting worriedly as he hugged you closer—placing a feather-light kiss on your cheek. at this moment the mischievous opportunity overtook you, wiping off the peck he landed. chan almost immediately placed another, than another until your face was absolutely bombarded with his kisses. “now you’ll have to scrub your face if you want to rub them off, don’t resist my love~” he sang, chin resting atop your head; carrying a pouty expression. “don’t be upset channie, i was joking..” you giggled, turning around to cup his falsetto sad face. surprisingly, he gave each of your cheeks a last kiss. “for good luck.” — “c’mon..chan..”

HAN throws a fit when you use the back of your hand to brush off his kiss to your lips. “heyyyyyy, don’t do that… do you not want my kisses?” he slurs, making it hard not to laugh. if anything, quokka looked betrayed. his chubby cheeks puff out defiantly, crossing his arms taut to his chest while he deeply sighed—silence overtaking the room. “does my breath smell?” han randomly proposed, unable to contain his bubbling chuckle. “was it my lunch? AH. i need to go brush my teeth.” he rose up, beginning to hurriedly walk to the bathroom. you grasped his shirt in a quick manner. “i’m joking i’m joking, it was all a prank.” you eased, han releasing a breathless whine before collapsing on top of you. “jisungie.. get off..” you struggled, squirming beneath his in-denial frame. “that’s so mean y/nnie.. you’re paying for dinner.” he huffed. “okay fine dinner’s on me.” the struggle continued, han finally getting off. “don’t do that, let me love you.” he whispered softly, big brown eyes carrying so much emotion. “i promise baby.” you hugged him, smiling to yourself at just how precious he was. the nickname you used making his face ache red. “never can get used to that.” this time you both laughed.

CHANGBIN would huff, eyeing your fingers reaching to brush off his affection. you were halfway through the newest godzilla movie ( that changbin had thoughtfully asked to watch ), and as boredom set in, you took it upon yourself to pester the man of principles. his disregarded kisses happened a few more times before he grabbed your wrists, using his strength to push you back on the couch till he was hovering over you. “you’re ruining the movie for me, now hold still while i finish what was started.” nonetheless, he kept his promise, littering every inch of skin he could find in his kisses. yet no matter how hot the muscular man looked above you in that moment, he was still your dwaekki and you couldn’t take a single thing he did seriously for a set amount of time. so now you were literally cracking up as he kissed your neck, the man smiling against your skin. “ticklish much?” he mused. “please! oh my god i’m gonna pee my pants.” you chest shook, changbin relieving his efforts. “ruining the mood.” he playfully grinned, turning off the tv—hovering over you once again. “but didn’t you want to watch the-“let’s focus on not killing the mood, what do you say?” wow. hot.

FELIX gasped dramatically, eyes narrowing to gaze at you in dismay. “do you not love me anymore?” his face crinkled as he fake cried on your shoulder, quietly interlocking his fingers with yours. meanwhile, the silence that followed resulted in a stubborn felix to take the reins. his breath ghosted your neck as he landed a soft kiss, yet he didn’t separate. instead, suppressing his deep burst of laughter. “if i don’t let go, can you wipe it off?” he smiled cheekily, the movement tickling your skin. “ah! i can’t do it anymore you’re freaking me out.” you shivered, rolling your eyes at the satisfied bbokari lifting his brows. the smell of burning overtaking the situation. he shot you from his position. “the brownies! they’re gonna burnnn.” he sang with a panicked lilt, placing the nearly burnt batch on the counter. taking a testing bite, his eyes narrowed. “try one.” he handed you a brownie, carefully watching your expression. “they don’t taste burnt, pretty yummy if you ask me.” you licked your lips, felix leaning forwards to thumb a stray crumb from your face. “messy eater.” he taunted, resting his chin atop his hand. “be quiet.” your reaction stirring a soft giggle.

HYUNJIN, as usual, was working on a choreo. after a bit of time he took a break, sweat dappling his forehead as you handed him a water bottle to cool off. his small kiss of thanks was a response, to which you wiped it off easily—finding the opportunity to pull a little stunt. “huh?” he blinked up at you, lips still attached to the water bottle’s edge. “what was that for?” he gave you a no-nonsense look, genuinely confused as to why you wouldn’t accept his peck. “what?” you tilted your head innocently, acting as if nothing had happened. “you wiped off. my kiss.” he pouted, rising up to squish both of your cheeks in his hand, squinting accusingly. “i don’t know what you’re talking about.” you shrugged, his downright confused face almost making your facade crack. you could see the gears turning in his mind. he shook his head fervently, returned to practicing and a few minutes later sat on the floor. “jinnie?” you asked, quirking your brow at his behavior. “i lost motivation. my love has been rejected.” he dramatically sighed, now fully laying on his back. “now who ever said that?” you hunkered down to straddle him, leaning down to land a deep kiss. “woah woah woah woahhh..” he gaped, his brown eyes blown with amazement. “it was a prank jinnie.” — “then i’ll need repayment to get back my motivation.”

MINHO kissed back. he enjoyed being the one to receive rather than give, just to see how needy you’d become if you hadn’t been given attention in a bit. leaving the scenario as the perfect time to tease( a key lee know habit ). so if anything he’d be the one to wipe off your kisses. but today was your day for revenge, after all this pain and suffering due to minho’s cruel way of getting what he wanted, you were taking control. “min… can i get a kiss?” he glanced up from his phone to where you were typing on your desk. “now you’re asking, well how could i say no?“ maneuvering his head to softly kiss your lips, eyeing you as you used the back of your hand to discard his kiss. fueling a realization that it had never been this hard to maintain composure until this moment. “what is this?” he used his foot to swivel the chair back to where he sat on a spare stool. “acting like a brat? is this your way of getting back at me?” his stunning eyes read you like a book. every time. “i had an itch.” your excuse proving more pitiful than you’d anticipated in your head. “on your lips, then please, let me help you.” bewildered, you shrunk against the chair with a squeak—minho advancing into you at an alarming pace. pulling away with heavy breath. “not fair.” you huffed, minho looked too pleased with himself.

SEUNGMIN was far too innocent for this trend, his kind gestures and ever patient sincerity left no room for mean pranks. but nonetheless, the chance to test it lay bare and it looked pretty tempting. of course, you knew you’d fold unbelievably quick since seungmin was too adorable to resist. he’d just taken you on a date, and your last stopped was now checked off the list. the stop in question being an old family-run restaurant you both frequently visited in your early dating years. it held a special place on your heart. with full stomachs and dazed smiles, puppym’s kiss to your forehead reminded you of the horrible prank. it was even painful to reach up and wipe it off, and even more so painful to watch his reaction alter. he almost looked worried. “was there something on my lips?” he touched his bottom lip, you immediately folded—hand holding onto his wrist. being too guilty to confess, you leaned upon a harmless white lie. “i think it was some kimchi.” you sheepishly smiled, earning a wholesome beam from the literal puppy. guilt. it hit hard.

JEONGIN being similar to seungmin seemed too much of a sweetheart to pull into this situation, but you really wanted to see what he’d do next. so, you waited as he planted a kiss to your nose—sharing this tender moment whilst watching a newly released series on the couch to occupy empty time. however he wasn’t even effected. in fact, he helped you wipe your nose off. “the popcorn i made was pretty buttery, be sure to get it all off so you don’t get oils on your skin.” you couldn’t even respond, there was no room to respond. “i wouldn’t want my popcorn to ruin your face.” his eyes crinkled happily, holding your face in his hands. giving up, you melted into this act of sentiment. yes. how could you even think of doing this to your cupcake jeongin? wrapping your arms around his neck, you pulled him into a hug. “im such a bad person innie, im sorryyy~” you mumbled into his shirt, the boy unable to make out what you’d said. “what was that y/nie?” thank god he didn’t look further n to the topic. “nothing baby, this episodes really good by the way.” you nonchalantly chomped a piece of his popcorn. buttery indeed.

all rights for this work are owned by @sunboki

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itsallyscorner · 4 years

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Baby’s First Heartbreak

pairing: marvel cast x teen!fem!reader, Scarlett Johansson x reader, Elizabeth Olsen x reader

prompt: the youngest member of the marvel cast experiences her first breakup.

warnings: not much—crying, a break up.

A/n: Tom is 19 here because this is set during Civil War. He was such a baby omg🥺

You were always a firm believer in having hope. No matter what the situation was, you knew that you had to at least try before fully giving up. You were only 18, but it was the mindset you grew up with. You were taught to face things with bravery and confidence, you faced things head to head with all your might. Though some things never went the way you planned, you were still the ray of sunshine you were, all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, eager to learn and explore the world.

You had the same mindset going into your first relationship. Love was something you’ve always wanted to experience. Sure, you received it from your friends and family. But you wanted the different kind of love. The special one that was shared between two people. The one that made your heart skip a beat and made you breathless. Where staring into that special someone’s eyes felt like you were being transported into another world where it was just the two of you.

You’ve found that kind of love in a boy from your hometown. The two of you had been friends since pre-k, growing up along side each other, and being there for each other’s success and failures. You’ve known him all your life but the feelings didn’t come till sophomore year of high school. It all just clicked all of sudden; that one day where he said you looked cute in his jumper and the next moment you knew you were seeing him in a new light. Junior year, you were both beating around the bush; constantly pining over each other with longing stares and fingers always brushing against each other. Though you didn’t see him all the time due to your job as an actress. You spent half of the school year in your hometown and the rest at Atlanta. Of course he knew of your job and as much as he hated to see you go, he knew you were doing something that made you happy. So he spent as much time as he could with you before your time together came to an end. A few days prior to your flight to Atlanta, under the night sky of your backyard, he admitted his feelings for you. By senior year, the two of you had been dating for half a year. It had been the best moments of your life, you were in love and high on happiness, it was like nothing in life could ever go wrong.

Now here you were, in your trailer on the set of Captain America: Civil War, sobbing you eyes out. You knew loving could hurt, but not this much. You still felt your heart skip a beat, but it was clenching in heartache. You were still breathless, but because you’ve been trying to catch your breath after every sob that wracked your body. You felt broken. The boy you loved had ripped your heart out of your chest and threw it onto the floor, stomping on it till it stopped beating.

You hiccuped as you stared at yourself in the mirror. You were nothing but a fool. A fool who had hope in something that was never going to work. You sniffled as you snatched tissues out of the box on your bathroom sink, dabbing the material onto your eyes and blowing your nose. Your eyes were red and your cheeks were puffy. A sigh of frustration releases from your body. There was no way you could walk onto set without people asking you what was wrong.

You debated asking your assistant to ask your designated makeup artist to do your makeup in your trailer, you didn’t want to be a bother. But your thumbs were already shamefully typing away the request on your phone. A few minutes later Eleanor, your makeup artist on set, arrives at your trailer with her supplies in hand.

She doesn’t directly question you, but she has the look of a concerned mother once she sees your face. You lie to her and tell her you weren’t having a good day and chalked it up to being homesick.

You dreaded going on set. You weren’t sure if you could face anyone without bursting into tears. The moment you felt like you were okay, your heart would clench, reminding you of the ache it was feeling.

You were in your costume, sitting on the sidelines of the set while you rehearsed your lines. The dialogue from the script acted as a distraction from the current pain you were feeling. The tears had stopped but your eyes felt dry, making you blink multiple times to keep them wet.

“Hey, sweetheart.” You look up and meet the stunning blue eyes of Chris Evans. That typical goofy smile of his was etched onto his features. Usually you would reciprocate that smile, but today you just couldn’t find it in your heart to do so. His smile falters when he sees your face.

“Morning.” You greet him, forcing a smile. Concern shadows on his face as he shifts a bit closer to you. “You alright?” He asks, eyes softening at you. Being the youngest of all the Avengers cast members, everyone had a soft side for you. Especially Chris, who saw you as a daughter.

“Y-yeah, I’ve just got—allergies.” You lied, another fake smile forcing itself onto your lips.

“Well have you taken something to help your allergies? Do you need Allegra? Claritin or something?” He looked around ready to call one of the runners on set to get you some meds.

“No! I took some already, a few minutes ago! It probably hasn’t kicked in yet.” You tell him. He eyes you reluctantly, not knowing if he should believe you. He decides to let it pass and nods, “Ok, tell me if you need anything though.”

You hum in response and tilt your head down back to your script.

The day goes on and everyone had caught on to your lack of—being you. The infamous smile everyone knew you by was barely on your face. You didn’t crack jokes with Anthony or share a giggle with Elizabeth. Instead you were quiet, a frown was on your face as you stared blankly at the floor. You didn’t interact with anybody, keeping to yourself and walking off set whenever one of the Russos called cut.

Anthony and Sebastian watched as you walked off the set. You have all finished a sequence of the airport scene and the Russos had given everyone a break while they rewatched the scenes they shot. Anthony’s brows furrowed while he watched your figure go further and further away. He had tried to cheer you up, telling you a joke about how Seb’s arm lube kept leaking out his fake arm. Your response was nothing but a fake laugh—it wasn’t even a fake laugh, more like a huff of laughter.

“She didn’t laugh at my joke.” Anthony thought aloud. Sebastian quirked an eye at his friend, “Does she have to laugh at all your jokes?”

“No, but even if I tell her a corny ass joke, she’ll still laugh at it.” He expressed, throwing his arms up. Sebastian’s lip pouted as he thought back to your behavior on set. You were acting unusual. He turns to Tom (Holland) and asks, “Hey, has (y/n) said anything to you? Like anything bothering her?”

The Brit shakes his head, “Um, nope. Besides filming, I haven’t spoken to her today.”

Anthony crosses his arms, approaching Tom, “Have you tried speaking to her? We’ve been trying to figure out what’s been going on with her today and you’re the closest to her age here.”

“I—I tried to talk to her, but she didn’t seem in a talking mood. I thought I was bothering her so I just stopped.” Tom answered. He gestures to the direction of the trailers, “I could check up on her right now? Maybe I’ll get her one of her favorite snacks from crafties, it might cheer her up.”

Half of a smile makes it way onto Sebastian’s face at the boy’s efforts. Though you were clearly upset and he felt like they were all prodding at your privacy. “Maybe we should give her some time alone.”

Tom frowns at the older man, “But (y/n)’s upset. Shouldn’t we do something?” Anthony agrees with Tom and looks at Sebastian.

Seb raises his hands up in defense, “I’m just saying—maybe she wants to be alone. She went back to her trailer away from everybody. She probably doesn’t want us shoving our noses into her business, we should respect that.”

Chris joins the group along with Scarlett and Elizabeth. He had overhead the group talking and urged the two ladies to join him in on the conversation.

“You guys talking about (y/n)?” Chris asks, hands on his waist.

“Yeah, Seb says we should leave her be.” Anthony fills him in.

“She told me she had allergies.” Chris starts. “She’s an amazing actress, but kid’s gotta work on the lying.” He finishes. Elizabeth and Scarlett glance at each other.

“Well has anyone talked to her at all today? Besides Chris?” Elizabeth asked the group. Everyone shakes their head. Elizabeth sighs while looking around at anyone else who could’ve talked to you. She spots Eleanor hanging along the sides with her makeup belt on, ready for touch ups. Elizabeth calls her over. Eleanor has her brush ready to powder her down, but Elizabeth politely declines.

“You do (y/n)‘s makeup right?”

Eleanor nods, “Yeah, I do.”

“How was she this morning? We’re just a bit concerned since she’s been acting different today.” Eleanor sighs, knowing if she told them it would be an invasion of your privacy. Although, they were all concerned for you and so was she.

“I got a text from her assistant telling me to do her makeup in her trailer today.” She began. “I walked in and her eyes were red, cheeks puffy—“

Chris apologizes and interrupts her, “Because of allergies?”

Eleanor shakes her head, “No, she never mentioned anything about allergies. But she looked like she’s been crying. She was wiping her face when I arrived.”

“Did she give you a reason for why she was crying?” Scarlett questions her.

“She told me she was feeling homesick.” Eleanor answered. Scarlett turned to Chris and shared a look. Elizabeth thanks Eleanor then turns back to the group.

“We need to check up on her.” Anthony says. All the men nodded and began to make their way to your trailer. Suddenly, they were stopped by Scarlett and Elizabeth.

“But (y/n)—“ Tom said pointing to the trailers. Scarlett shakes her head, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“Lizzie and I will go. You guys are gonna overwhelm her with all your questions.” Scarlett insists, much to the men’s dismay. They wanted to be there for you, but maybe a mother figure might help you open up with what’s bothering you. They agree and let the two women go to your trailer. Before they can get to you, they get some snacks from crafties for you.

As soon as you shut the trailer’s door behind you, the tears welled up in your eyes again. It only took a matter of seconds until they fell from your eyes and down your cheeks. You heard some people walk by outside and cover your mouth to muffle the whimpers that came out your mouth. You slid down the door and shoved your head into your hands. You leaned forward against your knees as you cried into your arms. You felt pathetic, embarrassed, anger; you were feeling so many things and the only way to let them all out seemed to be crying.

They heard your cries from behind the door. Scarlett sends Elizabeth an alarmed look as she rushes up to your door. She knocked on it repeatedly, causing you to jump from behind the door. Your cries come to a stop while you try to wipe away the tears as best as you can.

“(Y/n), honey, please open the door.” You hear Scarlett say. You remain silent, getting up and dusting your legs off. You stare at the door, debating whether you should open it or not.

“(Y/n), everyone’s worried about you. We just want to help.” Another voice coaxes you behind the door. Elizabeth. “Please let us in.”

Outside, the two women had their ears pressed up against your trailer’s door. Scarlett tries to get you to open the door again, “It’s only me and Lizzie. I promise.”

There was some shuffling heard behind the door. The door pushes open slowly, making Scarlett and Elizabeth back away. A worried expression appears on Scarlett’s face once she sees you. She cups your cheeks, her thumbs gently swiping away some tears that fell from your eyes. The two of them shuffle inside your trailer. You burst out into tears once again when Scarlett wraps her arms around you. She moves you both to sit on the couch that was in your trailer. She lets you shove your head into the crook of her neck while her hands smoothed your hair. Elizabeth sits behind you rubbing circles onto your back. Your cries broke both their hearts. You were a fairly happy girl, to see you in such pain and heartache was hard to watch.

Scarlett rocks you back and forth, trying to calm you down by whispering comforting words into your ear. She presses a motherly kiss onto your forehead once she sees you start to calm down. Elizabeth waits patiently beside you waiting for when you’re ready to talk. When your whimpers turned into hiccups, Scarlett pulls your face away from her neck to look at you. She frowns when she sees your tear stained cheeks.

“Are you going to tell us what’s going on or are you going to keep bottling it up to yourself?” She asks you softly, tucking strands of your hair behind your ears. Elizabeth chimes in from behind you, “You know, sometimes it helps to tell others what’s bothering you. You don’t have to keep it to yourself, (y/n), you could talk to us.” She gathers your hair together, splitting it into two parts as she began to fish tail braid your hair.

You take a moment to compose yourself before eyeying the two women. You knew you could trust them. Scarlett was like your on-set mom and Lizzie was like one of your aunts. If you could tell anyone on set what was going on, it would be them.

“He broke up with me.” You confess, eyes trained on your lap. Lizzie’s fingers stop braiding your hair, “What?”

“Peyton, he broke up with me.” You whined, not wanting to say it again. You fiddle with your fingers while a tear falls to your lap.

“Oh honey.” Scarlett cooes pulling you back into her chest. You sniffle and wrap your arms around her torso. Silently crying into her shoulder.

“Did he give you a reason why?” Lizzie asks softly. You move away from Scarlett’s hold and lean against the couch with your knees to your chest. Lizzie wraps an arm around your shoulder for comfort.

You glanced at your phone that was on the coffee table, “H-he texted me earlier this morning. He said he couldn’t do the long distance thing anymore and that he has feelings for somebody else.”

Anger flashes in Scarlett’s eyes, “He broke up with you over a text message?” You nod in response.

“What a dick.” She mutters glaring at your phone. It’s quiet for a few minutes. Until you ask them, “Am I not worth trying for a long distance relationship?”

Lizzie shakes her head, “No, don’t you ever think that because you are.”

You sigh and throw your head back, “Then why did he break up with me? Is there something wrong with me? Am I not pretty enough?” Scarlett interrupts your questions by shushing you.

“There is not a damn thing wrong about you. Don’t you ever let a man, let alone a boy, make you question your worth.” Scarlett advises you a stern look on her face. “You are the most sweetest and loveliest girl I have ever met in my life. You’re kind, you care about the people around you—you even laugh at Anthony’s stupid jokes.”

Lizzie snorts beside you and squeezes your shoulder, “And his jokes are the worst.”

Scarlett continues, “You are a talented young woman already making it big in the movie industry and you did it all on your own. You are beautiful inside and out. You’re perfect, there’s nothing wrong with you.”

“Then why did he leave me?”

“Because he’s an idiot that doesn’t know your worth.” Lizzie answers resting her head on your shoulder. “I know it hurts now but these things happen for a reason. He wasn’t meant for you and you weren’t meant for him. Maybe somewhere in the future you guys will meet and try again. Or maybe you’ll move on with someone new. That’s just how it is. It may sound harsh, but it’s the truth.”

Scarlett nods at Lizzie, “Take it from me, I’ve been married twice. When it seems like you found that special person, sometimes it’ll all come crashing down. And it’s not an easy thing to go through. It’s full of pain, heartache, self doubt and a bunch of other heart wrenching things. But in the end you come out a stronger version of yourself.”

You stare at Scarlett, “How did you do it?”

Scarlett softly smiles at you, “Well, I had lots of friends who supported me every step of the way. But most importantly, I valued myself. I did things that made me happy and took care of myself mentally and physically.”

You bite your lip in thought as you stare at the ground.

“Listen to me.” Scarlett urges you, “You’re young, (y/n). You’re going to meet so many more people in the future that’ll bring you so much happiness and love in your life. Don’t beat yourself up over one boy who decided to leave you because he wasn’t committed for a long distance relationship. You’re going to be okay.” She assures you, cradling your face. Your lips form into a tight smile while you nod in response.

“You have us and the rest of the people outside of this trailer to support you. We’ll always have your back, whatever it is, I promise you that. You’re not going to go through this by yourself.” Lizzie promises you, taking your hand into hers. You hum and rest your head on her shoulder. You pull on Scarlett’s arm to join you and Lizzie. She chuckles and hugs you from behind.

“Thank you guys.” You whisper, genuinely grateful that you had them in your life. Lizzie pecks your temple, “Anytime darling.”

#marvel #marvel cast x reader #marvel cast x teen!reader #mcu #avengers #chris evans #chris evans x reader #chris evans imagines #Scarlett Johansson #Scarlett Johansson x reader #elizabeth olsen x reader #avengers x reader #avengers x teen!reader #Tom Holland #Sebastian Stan #anthony mackie #tom holland x reader #sebastian stan x reader #anthony mackie x reader

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donutloverxo · 4 years

Text

Good little wife

Note - Inspired by a request I got long ago and written for the happy hoelidays challenge I'm cohosting with my sister hoes @navybrat817 and @stargazingfangirl18 . I used the prompts two idiots in love + Character A loves Christmas. Character B hates it. A melts Bs cold heart Dividers by @firefly-graphics .

Summary - Your husband makes up to you for being a Grinch and a meanie to you throughout your marriage.

Warnings - 18+ only, smut(m/f), dub con, older man/younger woman, arranged marrige, leaking nudes, daddy kink, blood play, virginity/innocence kink, loss of virginity, virgin reader, painful sex, misogyny, mob activities.

Pairing - Mob!Andy Barber x reader

Word count - 8k

“You look beautiful, cookie,” your mother raved, pressing her lips to your cheek, “He’s a lucky man.”

You only hummed. Staring at your refection, seeing someone you didn’t even recognize.

Your white lace dress somewhat conservative, still really pretty, something you would’ve been more than happy to wear if your circumstances weren’t so depressing.

You almost let out a sardonic laugh, you didn’t get to choose your husband but at least you chose your wedding gown.

“It’ll be alright,” your mother picked at your hair, noticing your evident sadness, you’ve never been one to hide how you feel anyway, “you’ll learn to love him. He’s very successful.”

“I always thought ‘money doesn’t make you happy',” something she had said to you so many times over the years.

“That’s just a fairy tale. People fall out of love, run out of things to talk about, men cheat, in the end all that’s left is how well he can provide for you,” she stated.

You checked your phone as soon as you could, going through your messages to see if your boyfriend, or rather your now ex boyfriend, had sent you anything. You still naively hoped that he'd come on a white horse and sweep you off and away, so you wouldn’t have to marry someone you’ve else. So you wouldn’t have to give up your freedom forever and just be someone’s wife.

But you saw nothing. He hadn’t talked to you, not since your father found out about you both. Since he was from a family your daddy hated with a passion, and you were supposed to as well, your father made you cut all times with him. Locked you in your room in a timeout till you came to your senses.

After over three weeks he came to you, telling you how he was ready to forgive you and move on. You were so happy. For a minute you let yourself believe that this was your father, he loved you unconditionally, of course he'd set aside whatever vain feud he has and let you be with your love.

All your hopes were crushed when he told you he had selected a husband for you whom you have to marry in just a month. That you had to drop out of college since you wouldn’t need that degree anyway.

You always did believe that he had your best interests at heart, you wanted to believe it this time as well, but you just couldn’t.

Cringing inwardly when he kissed your cheeks, “You look beautiful,” he told you, cold eyes staring at you, “Don’t try anything stupid. Andrew is a good man,” he looped your arm in with his.

“He’s more than a decade older than me,” you argued, biting your lip as he squeezed your arm to warn you.

You slapped a fake smile on your face, walking down, one step after another as everyone looked at you in awe.

This is supposed to be the happiest day of your life...

But when you looked at Andy waiting for you at the alter you felt nothing but grave anxiety which made your teeth clatter, his palms joined together at his front, he did look handsome with his tux and neat beard. You have had a crush on him for a long time but you’ve never even had a real conversation with him, you didn’t know him. No one did.

Your heart filled with dread as your father handed you over to Andy, patting him on his shoulder, “Take good care of her.”

“I will,” Andy smiled.

You weren’t really there, maybe your body was but your soul had left you to maybe make the whole ordeal less painful. The priest read the vows asking you if you were ready to take him as your husband forever.

“I do,” since you had no other choice.

“I do,” he repeated.

You felt a shiver jolt up your spine when his fingers grazed yours, putting the thin silver band on your finger before lifting your veil to press his lips to yours, giving you a chaste, barely there kiss as everyone cheered you on.

The rest of the evening was a blur, you could barely register what had happened, everyone sweetly calling you ‘Mrs Barber’ only making you more nervous.

Andy however, was cordial and formal as always, shaking their hands and thanking them.

Since you hadn’t really taken any dance lessons you were left to simply wing it with him at your first dance. With your clammy hands in his you tried to match his pace as he lead you, bumping into his feet with yours more than once.

He leaned in to whisper in your ear, “Relax,” making you shudder.

You looked up at him, he had barely said two words to you but your grandmother often said ‘Eyes are the windows to the soul’.

And Andy’s eyes were so... kind, like a blue ocean you could happily drown in. He almost looked at you as if he were fond of you.

Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad...

You didn’t really expect Andy to carry you over the threshold, that was just a silly little fantasy you’ve always had and you knew he’d never indulge you in it but he didn’t even hold the door open for you.

You looked around his condo, so grey and boring, looked like it was out of a magazine catalogue, you felt so out of place there.

Naturally, you followed him to his bedroom, watching him wake his coat off, followed by his cuffs as he rolled his sleeves up.

You went over what you wanted to say in your head, how do you tell your husband that you’re a virgin, on your wedding night--that was something your grandmother never gave you advice on. You could’ve used her wisdom then.

With your mouth suddenly dry you tried to speak as he poured himself a drink, “Um... I’ve...”

“What?” he looked at you, quirking a brown brow up.

“Nothing,” you shook your head as you took a seat on the edge of the bed. “This is a nice house.”

“You can take the guestroom,” he said bluntly.

“What?”

“You can take the guestroom. I’ve already put all your bags there, you can decorate it however you like but don’t touch anything else.”

“But I...I’ve never heard of husband and wife sleeping in different rooms.”

“That’s true, it is unusual. This is not a normal marriage though, is it?” His tone so frustratingly patronising, as if he was talking to a child.

You’ve never really been appreciated for your mind, women never are--not where you come from, even your love Alex only ever thought of you as a ‘pretty face’. But Andy didn’t need to spell it out for you, “You... don’t want me...” you realised.

He only scoffed. He’d never been one for long term relationships, he had tried but he could never give himself to another person, women often called him emotionally unavailable, his demanding and dangerous job did contribute a lot to that, but more than that it was his unwillingness to change. He was self aware enough to know that but he didn’t need anyone else. He didn’t want to be tied down or to have a nagging immature wife.

“But why...” you wondered. Sure, you weren’t thrilled to marry him, but now you had accepted it and wanted to make the best of your new life. You thought he wanted the same.

“Why would I want you?” he spat. “ You’re nothing but a spoilt rich girl who’s had everything handed to her. Who was ungrateful and stupid enough to fraternize with the enemy.”

You let out a shaky exhale, looking at him with teary eyes, “I loved him...”

“You don’t know the first thing about love,” he rolled his eyes.

“He loved me too! But I’m willing to put that behind me. I made a vow to you.”

“You really don’t know, do you?”

“Know what?” you frowned.

He took his phone out of his pocket, opening his gallery to show you the compromising pictures you had sent to your ex, “He shared that with everyone, it was all just a ploy to humiliate your father.”

You gasped, taking his phone in your trembling hand, your breasts exposed as you shyly looked at the camera. You had flat out refused to send him a nude when he asked for it but then he threatened to break up with you, to go after your best friend, even called you a prude because you hadn’t slept with him. At the moment you felt as if you had no choice but to do it...

“He wouldn’t,” you sobbed.

“And because of your stupidity I had to marry you since no one else would ever want you,” he said. But then regretted it as you just started crying harder. He thought of maybe trying to console you but what would he even say?

He took the phone from you before you could even think of deleting the photos. He used them to pleasure himself almost every night. Maybe he was an idiot, he could have the real thing, yet he was pushing you away, “Go to your room,” he told you which made you sob even moreso.

You looked up at him, begging him for a hug, for some sort of comfort or sympathy but his face was cold and harsh. Finally gathering your wits you went to the other room, ready to cry yourself to sleep.

No matter how beautiful you were, you were still thrusted upon him, you didn’t love him, you never could because you never even had a choice

“Perfect,” you beamed, setting down the chicken pot pie you had just cooked up.

Your grandmama had always told you that a wife should be a cook in the kitchen and a whore in the bedroom. So that her man would never stray.

And while you hadn’t had a chance to be a whore for Andy... something that you were looking forward to, you hoped the fresh home cooked meal, the holiday season and decorations you had spent the past few days working on would put him in the mood. To maybe accept you as his wife.

For the past six months you had tried everything, making him breakfast, packing his lunch, offering him massages, even trying to help him with his work but he was always so cold to you.

You feared that this is how it will be forever. He would never love you, not the way you’ve always loved him. Even when he was so cruel towards you.

But you were nothing if not resilient. So you said chuck it and went all out. Decorating your whole house, with a real tree for the past few days while Andy was out on a work trip for thanksgiving. Maybe you could surprise him and he’d realise just how much he lucked out with you.

You even went with a more risqué outfit than you usually would. Your little emerald green skirt with pleats was a bit too short and impractical for the cold winters but you were going to stay inside anyway. It was topped off with a tight burgundy blouse and a push up bra which made your girls look enticing and some red pumps.

With a pumpkin pie for dessert in the oven, your salads done and the gingerbread flavored candles lit up you were good to go.

So you sat on the couch, watching 'A Christmas story' for the hundredth time to kill time till he gets home and to distract your nervous mind.

After ninety minutes the movie was over but Andy still wasn’t home. You tried calling him but it kept going to voicemail.

Frustrated, but determined to follow through with your ‘Seduce Andy Barber’ plan you put on another movie, chewing your lip till it bled as you impatiently waited for him.

Soon it was midnight, your food got cold and the rumbling in your tummy became more prominent so you decide to eat your dinner, put the leftovers in the freezer and cut your losses.

You were almost done with your dishes when your husband coming into the apartment, turning around you saw him hang his coat on the back of the chair and plomp down on it. He groaned, pulling the sleeves of his shirt up to reveal his bulky forearms.

“You’re home,” you said, taking off your apron so he could see your little get up.

He didn’t smile at you like you expected he would, he didn’t say ‘Good job’ like you thought he would. He certainly didn’t look like he wanted to bend you over the dining table and take you then and there. He simply frowned at you. Looking at you as if your mere existence offended him.

“I told you; you were allowed to decorate your room however you liked. Not the whole apartment,” he growled, rubbing a hand over his face.

“What? I did it for you... I thought you would like it, ” you stood there, dumbfounded, shifting from one foot to another, “You don’t like Christmas.” You realised.

“No, I don’t. Christmas isn’t all fun and jolly for everybody. I’ve never had anyone to celebrate it with,” he did you a once over, his pants tightening uncomfortably as he took in your little ensemble.

He had never had a single good Christmas in his whole life. He’d usually spend it either working or drinking. But now, he had you, his good little wife who had gone out of her way to do all this just for him.

He could kiss your red lips then and there, finally do what he’s been wanting to go for the past few months and make love to you, eat the delicious meal you had made him because he was fucking starving.

But then he realized how easily you could be taken away from him. How this was all so fickle.

“Do you want a divorce?” he crossed his hands over his chest, as if daring you to give a wrong answer, “If you do, I’ll give you one right now.”

“I - ” you strutted, you didn’t really know, “Daddy would never let that happen.” To which he scoffed.

Your father would kill you both if this marriage failed. He knew that, why would he still be willing to risk everything?

“Where are you going?” you asked when he got up from the chair.

“To my room, to sleep,” he sighed.

He knew what you would say, he knew you were daddy’s little girl who’d die before disappointing her father, which was solely why you were with him, and yet he let himself fall for you and get hurt.

You tugged on his shirt, ready to beg him to at least eat the meal you made for him but then you frowned, inhaling the feminine perfume from his shirt, mixed with his own Cologne, you took a step back, your eyes brimming with tears as you realised he might’ve been with another woman.

While you were home slaving away to make everything perfect for him.

Your father had a handful of mistresses, a few of them younger than you. Your mother knew, all wives know and look the other way. That was how it was supposed to be. It was how you make marriages last...

And your poor beaten heart could take his coldness towards you, it absolutely could not bear him being with another woman. Your father had always praised him for being loyal, and it was one of the things you loved about him...

“Where were you?” you sniffled to keep the tears at bay.

“I was out working. So I could pay for your shopping sprees.” He spat.

You gasped, “I haven’t gone shopping in months! I only did now for Christmas!”

“That tree better be down by the time I wake up. You can out all that crap in your bedroom if you like. I do not what to see it.” He said gravelly, before slamming his door shut.

Something was horribly wrong.

Andy came home to an empty, cold house. You weren’t there to greet him like you usually are, in fact you hadn’t been for the past few weeks. He could hear the TV from your room, some kind of musical playing.

He checked the kitchen for some food, you used to make dinner every night, rave about your love for cooking and baking, but now it seemed that you lived on poptarts and McDonald’s.

He knocked on your door, to ask if you wanted some of the alfredo he was cooking up, also to maybe get you to have dinner with him.

Ever since he had married you, he had such a beautiful companion to have dinner with. To watch silly romcoms with, someone who waited for him to come home, called him all worried when he was late, asked him how his day was

It’d break his heart to say good night to you, you’d give him those puppy eyes, fluttering your lashes as if begging him to invite you to bed with him.

He wanted to ask you to come, to feel what it would be like to snuggle up with your soft body, to smell your hair, to finally fuck you, but he’d just go away to sleep in his cold bed with a heavy heart. Making do with his hand as he thought of you, it wouldn’t feel nearly as good as you would but it would have to do.

“Can I come in, honey?” he asked.

Letting himself in when no answer came from you. You were lying on your bed, blankets draped over you, your eyes trained on the television. He looked around your room, he had only been there a couple of times, he had expected to see some kind of winter wonderland since you were such a fan of Christmas.

But it looked just how it usually did... pale pink walls, a queen sized bed, a small closet and a dresser and a vanity. No tree or fairy lights or nut crackers.

He leaned against the door frame. “Did you have dinner?” He wanted to know.

You made some sort of unintelligible noise; which could mean anything. So he asked, “Would you like some pasta? I can’t make it as good as you do but I’ll try.”

“No.” You answered. Still not even looking at him.

“It’s Christmas Eve, do you want to go celebrate with your family?”

You shook your head in response. “No, I think I’ll just stay here.”

He had stolen your brightness and sunshine away, tainting you with his darkness. “Stop it,” he scolded, switching off the TV and standing in front of you to make you listen to him. “Get ready, I’m dropping you off at your fathers. You’re not spending Christmas in bed.”

“What difference does it make?” you huffed.

“Get ready. Right. Now.” He ordered, pulling your blanket away from you.

“No!” you whined. Sitting up, your face heating up with a simmering rage you had harbored for months. “Why do you even care? Do you want to get me out of the house so you could spend Christmas with her?!”

“Who’s her?” he furrowed his brows.

“Your mistress!” you yelled, looking around for something you could hurt him with, you grabbed a hold of your Mrs Bunny, your cute pink stuffie and threw it at his face. “I’m not going anywhere. And you’re not bringing her in to my house!” You said, throwing another stuffie at him which he caught with his hand.

“Honey,” he said, as if he was so disappointed with you, for catching him in his lies and deceit. “I don’t have a mistress. Where would I even find the time for one? All those late nights were spent at the office or in meetings.”

He would be the world’s biggest idiot to get a mistress when he had a wife like you waiting for him at home. A wife he hadn’t even so much as even kissed... given how pouty and tempting your lips looked, he didn’t know how he resisted for so long.

“Don’t call me honey,” you puffed out your cheeks, “And I don’t believe you.”

“Well, what can I do to make you believe me?”

You sighed, laying back down on the bedding, “There’s not much you can do. Except leave me be. I just want to sleep this Christmas away.”

He had to do something to get your spirits up. And since you has thrown away your old decorations he ran to every store in the town, waiting in the queue for hours, calling in as many favors as he could to get some new ones.

While he wasn’t able to get a real Christmas tree, he got a fake one which was a bit smaller than the one you had put up but not all that bad.

You had decorated the apartment with the traditional red, greens and golden he decided to go with a soft pastel pink theme. Hoping that you would like it and forgive him.

He had gotten you couple of gifts, a little babydoll he saw on the internet, it was pink and sexy, he thought of you the moment he saw it. Ordering it for you but he never really gathered enough courage to ask you to wear it. He wrapped it up for you in some festive paper, tying a ribbon around it.

He decided to get as many gifts for you as he could so the tree wouldn’t look so depressing, a Tiffany’s set, an advent calendar from a make up company he knew you liked, a box of cookies and one of chocolates, a new apron with floral patterns and frilly trimmings, some cozy socks, and a surprise gift he had been saving for you.

Looking around the living room, while it wasn’t as good as what you had done with the place he was still proud of what he could pull off in just a couple of hours.

He called out your name before knocking and entering, switching on your bedside lamp he sat next to you, stroking your hair, “Wake up, angel.”

“Seriously, stop it with the petnames,” you said, your voice groggy from sleep and irritated. Because he had only ever said your name with contempt before.

“I’m not going to stop, honey. You’re my wife, I can call you whatever I like.”

“Whatever,” you mumbled, rubbing your sleep away from your eyes.

“I have a surprise for you.” He smiled at you.

And while he had certainly smiled at you before that, when you had said something funny or silly (which you usually did just to see him smile), this one seemed so much brighter and warm.

“What is it?” you sat up. Still a bit crossed with him but excited to see what surprise he had for you.

“You have to come into the living room for that, and promise to stop being a Grinch,” he said, bopping your nose.

You scoffed incredulously, “I’m being a Grinch?! You were the one who made me take everything down in the first place!”

“I know, honey, and I am sorry for that. Hopefully I can make it up to you.” He winked.

You combed your hair, splashing some water on your face and then following him out to see what he had in mind for you.

You all but gasped at the tree in the middle of your living room, so beautiful, the soft glow of the fairy lights illuminated the room, little festive trinklets all over the room.

He had got you a pink stocking with sparkling silver hearts on it. His was a normal red one with ‘Andy' written with a sharpie or a pen. You giggled at that.

“You like it, honey?” he asked.

You nodded, observing the ornaments on your tree, “I do. Thank you so much, Andy. It’s so beautiful, I don’t think anyone’s ever done something so grand for me.”

Your rave gave him the courage to out his hand over your waist, pulling you into him, “I know this doesn’t make up for everything, but it’s start.”

“Yes! I think... I’d like a fresh start,” you beamed up at him

He excused himself to make some hot chocolate for you both, handing you a mug with little heart shaped marshmallows and sprinkles on top of it. You didn’t even realise how you ended up snuggled up next to him on the couch, Elf playing on the TV which he shockingly had never seen before.

“You know... for someone who hates Christmas so much you did a pretty good job saving it!” you giggled, kissing his bearded cheek.

“Well...” he looked down at you, wiping away the mustache the hot chocolate gave you before sucking his thumb off, “I don’t hate it anymore, because I’m not alone,” he said, his thumb pulling on your plump bottom lip.

“Um...” you face heated up as looked away, “You got me gifts!” you screamed a bit overzealous to change the subject, “Can I open one now? Please?! I’m just so excited!”

“Sure,” he murmured, a bit salty that he didn’t get the kiss.

He knelt next to you on the carpet as you pinked one up, shaking it next to your ear, scrunching your nose up so cutely as you tried to decipher what it was.

“Mmm... I can’t tell...”

“Why don’t you just open it?” he asked as his hand caressed your bare thigh, finding himself unable to keep his hands off of you now that he has you.

You ripped at the wrapping paper, opening the box to reveal the skimpy baby pink lingerie he had got you.

You pulled it out of the box and then started stammering, unable to form words once you realised what it was. “Is this... um..”

“Do you like it?”

“Yes, it’s very cute and nice. Do you, want me to wear it for you?”

“If that’s what you want,” he said casually and then shrugged but then regretted it as your face fell and you let. He wasn’t used to half-assing things if he was going to tell you his true feelings, he had to go all out.

Taking a deep breath, “I have to tell you something I’ve been meaning to say for months.”

“What?”

“I... love you,” he looked down at your lap, because he couldn’t bear to look in your eyes if you decided to reject him.

“Oh, Andy!” you beamed, “I love you too! I’ve always loved you,” you crawled on top of him, throwing your arms around his neck you hugged him.

“That’s good then,” he smiled stroking your back, he pulled you back so he could look at your pretty face, cupping your cheek he pressed his lips against yours.

He had only kissed you once, months ago at your wedding, and while it was not bad at all it was too short and formal and distant, nothing compared to how he felt right now. Moulding his lips against yours, kneading the flesh of your ass, you tasted just as sweet as he imagined you would.

You gasped in his mouth when he rutted his erection up into your core. “Andy!” your chest heaving as you felt him pressing against your thigh.

“What do you say you go put that on for me, doll? Hm?” he instructed.

You meekly nodded, grabbing a hold of the lingerie which you just now noticed was so sheer and would not really leave anything to the imagination.

“Come on out quickly now,” his impatience seeping through his voice as he sat on the edge of his, or what would now be both of your marital bed, one leg crossed over the other, his foot tapping against the floor.

His pants already snug, just from imagining what you would look like with the flimsy thing on. It wasn’t as revealing or kinky as some of the other pieces he had seen, but he felt it would match your personality perfectly.

He groaned, calling out your name again, “I’m gonna fucking die of blue balls, if you don’t come out right now, I’m coming in,” he got up to his feet to do just that but then stopped when he heard the knob twist.

One smooth leg peaking out of the bathroom, “Um... promise you wouldn’t make fun of me?” you asked. Your eyes screwed shut, you didn’t really have much of choice but you had never been so vulnerable in front of anyone. You’d hate to not be satisfactory for him.

“I promise,” his face softened, he had to practice some restrain, at least until he breaks you in, “Now come on out.”

You opened the door, your meek eyes fixed on your hardwood floor, your hands hugging your midsection. You blinked when he said nothing for several long, tortuous moments. Peaking a glance up at him you found him staring at you.

“Uh, do you like it?” you asked as your hands played with the helm of the teddy.

He almost scoffed. Like would be an understatement.

He knew pink would be your color. The nightie so short, clinging to your curves, your nipples pebbled against the satiny fabric, you looked like a sweet little doll and a whole fucking meal to devour at the same time. He would burst before he even got to touch you.

“Twirl,” he made the motion with his forefinger to demonstrate it, “Let me look at you better. And hands to your sides.”

You took a deep breath, letting your hands fall, doing as he had asked, your heart hammering in your chest because for the life of you, you couldn’t figure out if he actually liked you.

“Stop there,” he instructed when he got a look at your pert, round butt, the cloth barely covering it, he could see the imprints of the thong you wore.

“What are you thinking?” you asked.

“If I like your front better or your behind.” He almost chuckled at the incredulous gasp you let out. “Alright, look at me again.” Definitely the front, because he could see your beautiful face. Taking his original position on the bedding, “Come here,” he patted his lap.

Like the obedient wife that you aspired to be, you followed, perching yourself up on his lap, your arms around his neck for some support, looking into his lust blown, dark eyes.

You bite your lip when you felt that pressing into your thigh. Unable to bear his intense gaze you hid your face in the crook of his neck.

He hushed you, snuggling your soft body closer to his, his fingers drawing patterns on your hip, “How many men have you been with before?”

It didn’t really matter whatever your answer would be. But he wanted to tell you, that how ever many there were before him won’t matter anymore. From now on you are solely his.

“None,” you whispered so lowly that he almost couldn’t hear you.

“What?” Holding onto your chin so that he could make you look at him, “None? How is that possible?”

“I’ve just been waiting for the right one... I was going to with Alex but then didn’t...” you said as your hands caressed the coarse hair on his jaw.

He hummed, the fact that he would be your one and only, forever, only served to entice him further.

“Have you ever sucked a cock before?” he asked, although he knew the answer.

“No...”

“Don’t worry, I’ll guide you,” he promised, pushing on your shoulders to make you get on your knees.

You hissed at the cold floor, biting into the your calves and knees.

His dainty princess, he grabbed a throw pillow, instructing you to put it under, all the while staring at your cleavage peaking out like a creep.

Your eyes were fixated on his crotch, eager to see what a real penis looks like. You had watched some porn when you were a teen, out of sheer curiosity, but your friends had told you to lower your expectations. That real ones are much smaller and not so aesthetically pleasing.

You all but gasped when he took his cock out of the confines of his sweats, slapping over his abdomen. So big... and thick, with two veins over it, a bright flushed tip leaking with pre-ejaculate, and some soft hair dusted at the base of it.

You tried to stop yourself but then couldn’t help it, your hand shyly touching his tip yanking it down and then releasing it to see what happens. As suspected it flew back over, hard against his tummy, making you giggled.

“Oh gosh...” you slapped a palm over your mouth to stop from laughing.

He scrunched up the hair on the back of your head, yanking your neck back so that he could look at you, “What’s so funny?” he growled.

“Nothing,” you gulped, “It’s all just so strange and new... and exciting...”

He hummed as he took in your words. Grabbing the base of his cock as he rubbed his tip and precum all over your cheeks till your face was positively glowing with his essence.

“You wanna taste it?” he asked, to which you eagerly nodded.

Nudging your pouty lips with his tips before tapping on them when you didn’t get the clue, “Open.”

“Oh,” you said before opening as wide as you could, his length easing into your mouth. You hummed around him, the salty unique taste of him you had never really known before and couldn’t get enough of now.

He was barely halfway through inside you when he touched the back of your throat, he tutted, “Relax your throat,” he told you.

You didn’t really know what he meant but you tried loosening up all your muscles. Choking around him when he pushed in a few more inches.

Most of him was still out but it was as good as it’s gonna get, not that he’d ever complain... no... your mouth was like heaven. He had only known his hand for the past year Or so, and your mouth was almost too much.

Holding onto your face to keep it in place he started thrusting upwards into you, his heart swelling with tears escaped your eyes but you still tried to take more of him, to please him like the good girl that you were.

He stopped his hips, gently slapping your cheek to get your attention, “You always look at me when my dick is in your mouth. Got it?”

Since you couldn’t talk with your mouth full of cock, you just nodded.

You peered up at him innocently, fluttering your lashes, popping him out of your sloppy mouth, “Am I doing it right?” because you truly couldn’t tell.

He chuckled, smoothening a hand down your hair, “More than right... it’s too good but I want to come in your pussy. Maybe I’ll make you swallow my load latter, what do you think?”

“Yes, I’d like that,” you licked your lips to taste more of him.

“Get on the bed,” he ordered.

“Um... can I go fix my face before that,” you rubbed your mouth with the back of your hand, you doubted you looked very pretty to him then.

“No,” he stated, pulling you up by your armpits and all but throwing you on the bed.

You yelped and tried to protest, “I wanna look good for you...”

He pushed your legs apart to make room for him, smirking above you, eyeing you up as if you were a piece of meat, his prey, “This really does look pretty on you...” he rubbed the flimsy spagetti strap between his fingers, “but it’s served it’s purpose.”

You screamed, holding onto his wrists as he ripped the babydoll in two pieces, revealing your breasts to him, he yanked at it, throwing the remains away.

“That’s much better,” he gritted, pinching one of your peaks, capturing it in his mouth and suckling at it to his hearts content.

You pouted as you looked at the torn cloth, a bit upset that he ruined his gift to you. “I really liked that...” you sniffled. But couldn’t really ponder because Andy’s ravenous mouth was sucking hickies all over your breasts.

“I’ll buy you another one. I’ll buy you ten more,” he bit into the side of your breasts, your mewls and whines were like music to his ears.

“Andy...” you heaved, “Don’t leave marks... I have to go to dinner tomorrow to moms...”

He stopped abruptly, propping himself up above you and you were afraid that you had upset him, “You’re my wife now, honey. Your father gave you to me,” his hand snaking down your body, between your legs, he parted your moist lips, the pad of his fingers meeting your little pearl, “I can do whatever I want with you,” he reminded you, pushing a finger into you, “This cunt is mine now, got it?”

“Yess...” you whined as you squirmed under him, the invasion of his finger inside you too alien to your body.

“Which means you ask for permission before you touch yourself, or better yet, don’t touch yourself because that’s my job,” he stated.

“Have you ever made yourself come?” he asked, trailing soft kisses down your body till he settled between your legs, moving the strong of the thing to the side so he could get a better look at your virgin pussy, adding another finger inside you, your snug walls clinging to his digits, “You’re so fucking small. Can barely fit my finger. How will you take my cock,” he teased.

He’d make you take it.

You whimpered at the sting of it, “I’ll try, daddy...” throwing your head back as you massaged your breast.

You propped yourself up on your elbows, looking down at him when he stopped his ministrations, “What’s wrong?”

“What’s wrong?” he quirked a brow. “Do you realise what you just called me?”

You simply shook your head because you hadn’t really called him anything, “Andy?”

“No,” he huffed, “You called me daddy, honey.”

You gasped, you didn’t mean to say it out loud! “No...” you shook you head from side to side, trying to pull away from his fingers still knuckle deep inside you, “It can’t be!”

“Oh, but you did,” he laughed, “And you’re gonna say it again. In fact, from now on, when it’s just the two of us that’s the only thing that you will call me. Unless you wanna get punished...”

“Okay...” you said, still a bit unsure of it all.

You had always called him ‘daddy’ in your fantasies. It was maybe a bit expected for it to slip out like that but still so embarrassing. You said it again just to make sure that he actually wanted you to call him that and wasn’t just teasing you.

“Good girl,” he winked, latching his mouth around your clit, fucking you with his fingers as he kept sucking.

“Daddy...” you whined, biting on your hand to muffle some of your noises, a knot building up in the pit of your stomach, “Don’t stop, please!”

You gushed over his mouth, he lapped it all up, making sure nothing went to waste.

“You did good, honey,” he said, your cheeks heating up when you saw his beard glistening with your juices. He rolled your thong down your thick thighs, “You wear this to dinner tomorrow,” he told you. “Since I’m going to be a real husband from now on I pick out what you wear.”

All so he could see you in those pretty flowy dresses you wear sometimes, but you didn’t need to know that.

He hastily pushed his sweats and briefs past his hips, throwing them off the bed before pulling his t-shirt over his head.

You bit your lip at just the sight of him. His shoulders so broad, chest so wide, dark hair dusted all over his chest, you just knew then that all those hours he spent at the gym paid off, you knew he’d be ripped.

But you absolutely did not expect, someone as uptight as him to have numerous tattoos all over his torso.

Something inscribed in Sanskrit on his chest that you didn’t really understand... the logo of your family’s mob on just under his pectoral.

You sat up to get a better look at them, tracing a skull on his bicep that looked much less sophisticated than the others, the lines a bit scribbly, it was already fading.

“That’s the first one,” he interrupted you, “I was a kid back then, got my foster brother to do it.”

You pressed a kiss over it, “I love it.”

His blue eyes beamed at you, he was so beautiful...

“Now for your gift...” he circled your wrist bringing it down to his pelvis.

“Hm?” you looked down, tears brimming up in your eyes as you saw your name written on just beside his hipbone, next to his hard cock, standing tall against his stomach. In a small heart, dark ink against his pale skin, “When did you get it done?” you sniffles, touching his skin to feel the texture of the tattoo.

“A few weeks ago. I just... I’ve never belonged to anyone. Never had a family of my own. But now I have you, and you have me, I’m just as much yours as you’re mine,” he confessed, finally feeling the weight of it lifted off his shoulders. You were a blessing in disguise.

“I love you,” you beamed up at him.

“I love you too, doll, now come on,” he pushed you till you were on your back, “Daddy’s waited long enough. Can’t wiat to fill you up, make you mine.”

He planted a hand on the mattress, so he could see what he was doing to your virgin cunt, look at you and her, as he defiles you and makes you a woman, his thick manhood nudging your glistening lips as he eased into you, he felt you stretching around him, your face twisted in pain as you begged him to go easy on you, he halted when he felt your barrier.

He looked up at your pretty face, sparkling with his spend and your tears, your sweet little whimpers filled the room, he stayed still for a moment to let you get used to him, he knew he should take it easy.

His wife was a delicate, fragile, sweet little girl. He should be more gentle. A better husband and man would be. But he had his whole life to become a good man for you, tonight he just wanted to take what was rightfully his.

Letting out a deep, almost animalistic growl, piercing through your seal, your innocence till you were screeching, your nails drawing blood from the sides of his thighs.

“It hurts!” you screamed.

“It’ll only hurt for a little bit, doll. Just ride through it,” he cooed, stroking your sensitive clit to draw your attention away from the pain, he withdrew his hips before snapping them back till he was deep within your womb.

“You’re so snug, honey,” he grunted, not letting up his pace as he kept fucking into you,

A proud smirk gracing his face as he looked down to see himself covered in blood, a sticky mess of both your bodily fluids where your sexes were joined. His dick somehow grew harder inside you knowing how he took something from you that you’ll never be able to give someone else.

Slowly your crying and whining was subsiding as you got used to have him inside you, but he wanted to hear you scream for him in a different way. “Don’t you want to make your husband, no, your daddy happy, honey?” He asked, each word punctuated with a deep, harsh thrust into you.

You nodded, willing your tears away, cringing when you saw his crotch covered in your blood, “Yes I do, daddy. What do I do?”

“Your cute dumb brain always needs to be told what to do,” he chuckled, moving closer to you he circled his palms around your wrists, pinning them above you, “Wrap your legs around me.”

You followed along, wrapping your legs around his hips and hooking them together on his back. Closing your eyes when you felt your body seizing up, your pussy pulsating around his length when you felt the familiar feeling creep up on you.

“Look at me!” he barked and you immediately opened your eyes, “You look at me when I fuck you.”

You gulped and dared not close your eyes again. Even as you felt your orgasm wash over you, clenching around his length. His face was scrunched up, his neck, face and chest flush as he chased his own release till you felt his warm release coating your walls.

He collapsed above you, panting beside you he kissed your hair, “You liked that, babygirl?”

You let out a meek little yes. Feeling empty and void of his warmth and hardness when he pulled out of you before settling next to you.

“But...” you trailed off. Not finding it in you to bare yourself to him like that just yet.

“But what?” he whipped his head to look at you.

“But I’m sorry if I wasn’t very good!” Since you had simple laid there and took whatever he gave you. You had heard that men don’t like that...

“Don’t worry, honey, you were absolutely perfect,” he sighed. “You’ll get even better with practice, we’re gonna practice a lot from now on.”

You tried to cover your breasts up with the comforter, still awkward about being stark naked right next to a man, a man who looked as good as like Andy, but he swatted at your hands, reprimanding you and telling you to stay still and let him look at you to his hearts content.

Soon you felt your cunt throbbing back up again, still so raw from the loving Andy gave it, you tried rubbing your legs together to ease it a little bit.

“It still hurts?” Andy asked as you nodded.

He snaked a hand between your legs, massaging your little nub and your lips, tutting when you tried to pull away from his touch, “Shh I’m trying to make it hurt less.”

He hummed when he saw his seed leak out of you, pushing a finger in you, much to your displeasure, to keep it inside you, where it belonged.

He would make you go on some form of birth control as soon as he could. While the idea of you all round and plump with his kid was more than appealing, he didn’t want to share you with anyone else just yet. You were young, he had plenty of years to breed you.

“You’d make a good mother,” he wondered out loud.

“Hm?” you blinked at him. Squirming from the torture he was yielding on your overworked sex. His lips curled up in a twisted smile as he pulled his fingers out of you, wiping your blood on your soft nipples, painting them crimson as you shivered.

You looked at his cock, hard again against his stomach. “Does it hurt?” you asked, your hands twitching to touch it again.

“Yes, it does. Do you wanna help me get rid of the pain?”

“Mm... can I use my mouth again? I’m sore...”

“It’s okay, honey, you’ll get used to it,” he promised, grabbing your hips and pulling you on top of him, your palms pressed into his abdomen as you looked so wrecked, “Guide me in,” he ordered.

You shook your head which earned you a harsh slap on your ass so you held onto the base of his cock, parting your intimate lips, before slowly sinking down on him.

You sighed as you settled, sitting on top of him with his cock nestled inside you, so full and strangely satisfied, his warmth soothing your aching walls, he spanked you again to remind you to move, so you started bouncing on top of him the best you could.

His hand groped at your bouncing titts before he wrapped a hand around your throat, applying the slightest bit of pressure as you whimpered and cried, just to remind you who’s in charge, not that you’d forget anytime soon.

His only regret was that he hadn’t done this sooner. He was an idiot to ever resist an angel like you. He’ll have to do a lot to make up for lost time.

Tags will be in the reblog! Click the link in the bio to be join the taglist or shoot me an ask/dm. Comments and reblogs are really appreciated! ❤❤

Please note that my work is not to be reposted or published anywhere other than my Tumblr or AO3 account without my permission. Reblogs are most welcome though!

#happyhoelidays2020 #andy barber x oc #andy barber x y/n #steve rogers x reader #andy barber x reader #andy x reader #chris evans x reader #defending jacob fanfic #mob!andy barber

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pixelhyuck · 3 years

Text

a hurdle we can get through by communicating

pairing : zhong chenle x gender-neutral reader

genre : angst with fluffy ending, idol!chenle, non-idol!reader, established relationship

word count : 1.8k

warnings : none

summary : what happens when your boyfriend overhears you planning a surprise date?

———————

you were ecstatic over an idea you had three days back that was currently being set up till date. you hummed and spun around the living room, quietly showering yourself in compliments with a prideful smile.

chenle has been quite busier than usual which usually results in him ending up in a cranky mood and you understood which is why you're currently on the phone twirling as you eagerly wait for yangyang to pick up his phone so you can both go over the cute surprise date you had planned with help from the boy.

"HELLO," boomed a voice from the other end of the call not fazing you at all as you were used to it by now.

"yangyang! did you check lele's schedule for the day?" you asked and he nods his head, quickly giving a yes when he realised that you obviously couldn't see him,"hold on! i'm putting this on speaker since i have to laundry to fold. but yeah go on."

you heard a grumble, something about there not being a good reason as to folding laundry which made you chuckle as you sat on your bed with the phone beside you and a red shirt in your hand.

"so," yangyang spoke,"the only thing left is the cake."

"oh! i wanted to bake that myself to make it more special and sweet because of added extra love," you grinned as he fake puked.

"yeah yeah okay. for it to be done by tonight, you better get to it by now, slowpoke," he suggested as you sat and stared at the clock measuring the time needed when you hear a creak on the floor.

"what the—"

"oh right! chenle doesn't have any suspicions, right?" yangyang queried turning your attention to the phone. a small creak not going unnoticed.

"i don't think so," you knit your eyebrows together,"he hasn't come over yet so there isn't anything he can find for him to get suspicious. or maybe i'm just that great at being secretive," the same prideful smile like before on your face.

"hey! you and me both. i get to deal with him at the company almost everyday," he whined followed by a clap,"anyway, going back to the start...your house or our dorms?" yangyang asked as he glanced at the dorm's kitchen to see if it's sanitary to bake a cake or not.

"are you kidding!? there's too many distractions over there...and two too many loudmouths," you referred to hendery and xiaojun in a light-hearted manner though it didn't translate as well as you had hoped,"i bet we'll be exposed before we know it."

"okay be there in 10. love y—"

"liu yangyang?" your voice came out soft,"don't come over yet."

you ended the call as your eyes came in contact with the other set of eyes staring at you and then it hit you. the faint creaking floorboard that you dismissed to be paranormal activity was very much a normal human being.

chenle's eyes were empty yet hurt with what he had heard up until that moment. he was obviously exhausted with his hair disheveled and the dark circles under his eyes like he could pass out at any given moment.

of course you knowing that the reason you were so secretive was due to a surprise date didn't think much of it compared to chenle's assumption that maybe he had lost you showed as it didn't click immediately and only did when you tried to hug him but he never reciprocated it. when the gears in your head turned, you immediately grew just as grim as he was.

"how long has this been going on?" his voice was frail and it tore your heart into pieces. you knew that the best thing to do was to tell him upfront but you had planned the surprise for so long and if he had waited just a little longer minus the cake, it would've been executed perfectly.

"i...i know i've been busy and i haven't had as much time to spend with you but," he tried to continue but every word came out smaller than the previous one. just a little longer and the plan would work...but at what cost? causing him even more stress than he already was experiencing? you barely could wipe the frown off his face when he had a paper cut. so tormenting him further just seemed selfish and it hurt the both of you.

fuck it. why was hiding it a little bit more even a choice? he's the number one priority and you mentally chided yourself for even considering it.

you gave a soft sigh, taking his hand and dragging him to your bed. you sat him down and took his hands into yours.

"okay. i'll tell you the truth," a nod. despite nodding, chenle actually wasn't sure if he wanted to hear the truth. the truth that his assumption may be right. his heart clenched at the thought of it and with his fatigue and clouded mind, he just wanted it all to be a nightmare that he would wake up any minute now.

"i know you're busy with work these days and i," chenle braced himself, giving your hand a tight squeeze and stared at your intertwined hands with glazed eyes,"wanted to plan a surprise date...just you and me."

you paused and sighed, forcing a small smile but you were on the verge of breaking down looking at the current state of your lover. you knew it was inevitable when working in an industry like this but he was pushing himself so hard and you made a silent promise to yourself that the next time you spot shooting stars, you'd use it all on him and his well-being.

a deep breath in,"i begged yangyang to help me and so he's been assisting me for the past two, three days. actually he was doing a very good job until a few minutes ago when he told me you'd still be at work by now."

"i asked to leave early," his voice still not regaining the confidence it usually held but you understood and you cautiously gave a small reassuring pat on his back.

"i don't know how much you heard but yangyang and i were just going over on how and where we're baking a cake for the date! which was why he told me he was coming over. there's nothing more and nothing less to it. just a surprise date...that i was a bit careless with," you had loosened enough to let out a chuckle but immediately grew worried at the lack of response from the boy who sat beside you.

"...love?" you softly called out and stared at his back with his head hung low,"i'm sorry you had to have that kind of assumption even if it was for a while. i never want you to feel that way and i truly do apologise that i had added more worries when you're already dealing with so much."

there was still no reply and the silence was deafening. whatever you would get in response, you braced yourself for but what you didn't expect was hearing small sobs from him.

chenle was sobbing, something you've never seen or heard him do and it filled you with a sense of dread. he opened up about his inability to cry and has said time and time again that if he does cry, he'd want it to be tears of joy. the world can be cruel in some aspects.

you quickly got up and shuffled to his side, knelt on the ground so that you could see his face better. you were quite speechless and for once in your lifetime, you felt like no amount of comforting words could ever help the situation or both you and chenle.

all you saw was the top of his head as he still had his head hung lower than ever with hands covering his face. his whole body shook and any sound he held back got released as the room was filled with his cries.

you threaded your fingers in his hair, running it around to ease him a bit all while humming his favourite songs. not long after he took your hands and placed them on his face to frame it.

his cries had turned into small sniffles now as he lifted his head to look at you. his mouth drooped like his eyes did. his cheeks and nose were adorned with the same reddish pink. he closed his eyes and took a deep breath in and out.

in and out.

now being more grounded as he felt your warm hands on his cheeks, he leaned into your touch and fluttered his eyes open. how can someone who just finished crying hold such a bright and lovely twinkle in their eyes? you gave a small smile at it, the emotions it conveyed however, you weren't so sure yourself either.

all those weariness from his busy schedules somehow just seemed to fade away and he gave the biggest grin to you followed by a giggle ( oh but you swore you could hear the angels sing the moment it sounded out )

"don't worry. i was crying because i got so relieved hearing what you said," his voice a low whisper as he pulled you closer, hand on one side of your face and a pure bliss of a kiss on your lips. it lasted quite long, but who could blame you both when the world had you both apart for so long? all those feelings of yearning turning into passion and the need to hold onto each other like two perfectly matching puzzle pieces.

you both pulled back as you had to take in some air. both sighing and looking at each other, with the widest smiles imaginable on both your faces. you wiped the trails that his teardrops had made.

"i love you so much," you felt the sincerity in his words which made you blush. from the first ever 'i love you' till today, it never failed to make your heart flutter and maybe that was what made that phrase extra special for chenle. seeing the hold he has on you and knowing thay it's just as strong as the hold you have on him fills him with comfort.

"i love you just as much. if not, more," a goofy yet affectionate smile visible on your face.

chenle stood up, helping you up too,"now," he squeezed your hand gently,"do you think i should post that i finally cried on bubble?"

*ding*

[VALAK] Message is here!

just finished crying ㅋㅋㅋㅋ

#chenle imagines #nct dream imagines #nct dream fluff #nct dream angst #chenle x reader #chenle #chenle fluff #chenle angst #zhong chenle #happybirthdaychenle

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goofyhoffy · 3 years

Text

known stranger | jjk | Chapter 1

people say your bestfriend's rival is your rival too. But what if you fall for your rival.

✿ Pairing : Jungkook × female reader, Jimin × best friend reader

✿ Genre : enemies to lovers, stranger au, personal assistant au, manager au, mutual au.

✿ Summary : always seen him around your mutual friend, but one day you noticed the known face. Everyone find you so interesting that they always want to be your best friend, yet you never find anyone close to your heart. Jimin your so called bestfriend gone through the worse break up but instead of caring him you fall for his rival. You never thought of liking someone who would beat your bestfriend, but you fall for Jungkook there. Unfortunately, Jungkook became your personal assistant who hated you the most for supporting Jimin. What if Jungkook also wants you back?

✿ Warnings : fluff, strong languages, reader is a psychopath, angst, anxiety, anxiousness, double faced, bullying, overthinking, mean people, Jimin here is the meanest, ignoring, explicit, smut, fake friends, manager and personal assistant au, mutual friend, swearing, filled with flirty lines, rival, lovey dovey, break up, makeout, humiliation, oneshot, texting.

✿ Series : a drabble fanfiction of 3 sets

✿ Word Limit : 5 k+

MASTERLIST

✿ Author's note : wishing you many happy returns of the day, kook. I thought of making this fanfic a oneshot but my mind never cooperates with me. So, here I'm again with my drabble series. Read it and let me know if you liked it. To get add on taglist, send an ask.

(๑˙❥˙๑)(๑˙❥˙๑)(๑˙❥˙๑)(๑˙❥˙๑)(๑˙❥˙๑)(๑˙❥˙๑)(๑˙❥˙๑)

"See, I changed your contact name to 'Bestie' , it's looking perfect dude." Jimin rejoiced. You just gladly looked at his phone screen with your two owl eyes. "Now, you also need to change my contact name in your phone to 'bestie'. Do it fast, I'm waiting, piggy." Jimin said happily.

"Ya, I'll do it later some day." You weirdly smiled at him. It's always been like that. Jimin being too clingy, always said that you're his best friend, his own girl, whom he adores the most. But somewhere you never felt that. You never denied him of being your friend or you can say your best friend but you always hesitated to accept. You never called him sweetly, never even seen him like your bestfriend but something less than that. A vibe just didn't match with him. Yet, he was always the one who texted you, asked for hanging out, call you by pet names, always loved you, always treat you like his bestfriend. You never showed this emotions neither you did denied all that .

"You always do this things. You know, you're always first for me. First priority,____(y/n)." Jimin sighed.

"Ya, always first. But-" you got intreuppted by him.

This Areum gonna kill me one day. This girl already broke up with me but still cling to me." Jimin said while checking his phone. Few weeks ago, Jimin had a worst broke up. More likely, a betrayal kinda thing happened with him. Before that he was so happy, bright and always busy with his girlfriend. And never ever asked you how were you back then. There you got it, how really a toxic person he was. That's why, you never wanted to call him your special person. Cause after every break up he only comes to you. And during his relationship phase he never even asked you nor did he talk to you. A complete stranger basically.

" Why don't you just ignore her. Block her if she's distrubing you so much." You said.

"I did, but still. Well, she's only for fun. She also have fun making out with me and I do the same. So no problem." Jimin chuckled.

"Also fun when she calls his boyfriend and his friends to beat you up as you're assign of molesting her." You rolled your eyes.

"____, you clearly know that. You have seen that. She was the first who directed me to kiss her , touch her and everything. But later that bitch just called her bodyguard boyfriend to help her out. It's only a strategy for breaking up with me." Jimin sighed.

"Then, why did you do the same thing again Jimin? Just leave her. It really feel bad to see your friend suffering." You asked.

"Bestfriend not friend." Jimin corrected.

"Whatever. Do you want to have red stamps on your ass again?" You sighed.

"No, but I can't. That time I was so mad at Areum so I didn't do any harm to her boyfriend. Unless I would have kicked him in nuts." Jimin giggled.

"Everything is not a joke, Jimin." You rolled your eyes as you left for your daily shift.

◉

You got freahen up after a hectic day at your work. After taking good hot shower, you sat on your bed and checked your phone. You glared at how many messages Jimin had sent you to ask about your day, your mood, what's you're doing and stuff like that. You completely ignored it. Sometimes you feel that, the boy put so much of his time on you just to get some friendly love from you. But at the second thought, you imagine all those moments when he ignored you, your texts, your calls for hours and days just because he don't need you.

At last you saw the flooded messages at the new group chat you got added. You don't have enough patience to read what the group chat was about and who were the members. So, you directly called the one who added you.

It's Bora, who added you. Your long lost another best friend. Who also treated you like her best friend but you never like being her friend. But you felt so glad that someone still remembered you. You called her.

"Hello!" You nervously chuckled.

"____, I missed you bub. Don't you missed me sweets?" Bora excitedly asked.

"Sure. I-I mean I did. A lot. Bora." You weirdly smiled

"Then you're definitely coming to the Mall? Don't you?" Bora asked.

"Mall? About what?" You asked.

"I added you to the gc dude. Checked that. Everyone is coming. Please you also need to come. I have many things to talk about you." Bora pleased.

"I saw that, that's why I called you. Cool idea! Definitely gonna come Bora." You said.

"Call me sunshine. Okayy, tomorrow at eight at evening near the south mall. Don't be late. We all will be there." Bora said happily.

"Sure sunshine. I'll be there promise. Good night. Meet you tomorrow." You said cheerfully.

You're kinda excited to meet your old goldies. Not to lie but you missed them so much. All the shit they talk, crazyness they do and everything about them is all you need right now. You missed Bora in real. Like, in days she was so toxic that gives you anxiety unnecessarily but still she missed you. You always love the person who mentioned you anywhere unless or untill it's Jimin.

At the Mall, you're already late to go their after your hectic schedule. But still you're not late as it's only nine and they asked you to be their till eight. But you always a late lateefa. More like a queen for whom everyone waits. You saw Bora, and ran cheerfully towards her.

"Sunshine!" You sang.

"_____, again late." Bora exclaimed arrogantly.

"Really sorry Bora. Tell me if I missed anything." You asked.

"Everything. Legit everything." Bora said.

"Why? I'll cry dude." You sighed

"Everyone already gone for movie. I'm just here to wait for you girl. Thank me." Bora rolled her eyes

"Then let's go for the movie. We can join the movie." You cheerfully smiled.

"Wait. I didn't call you here to hangout with you. I need to tell you many things." Bora said.

"Then whom we're waiting for. Let's have some goosip coffee, Sunshine." You chuckled as both of you just walked upto the near counter coffee shop. There you sat the same place you used to and have endless laughter.

She explained how she's going to marry the man of her dreams. Tells you everything about what happening in every one's life and their love life. During your old days to, Bora was the one who tells you all the goosip and love life of others. She was so much interested in other life than her own. Unfortunately you were always the one who used to hear all those boring goosips. You were never interested, neither you are now interested.

As the weather is getting happier the dark clouds surrounds the mood. You saw Areum and his Boyfriend Seokjin was also there at the mall. They're strolling down the Mall with grabbing eachother hands. They looked so happy. But you felt so bad for his boyfriend Seokjin. He never knew the actual face of Areum. You have seen after Jimin's break up also, she used to make out with him. Jimin share each and everything about that. How she bite his upper lip so much and how she was acting that everything was good and still were together. Jimin was an actual fool and you knew that. He didn't understand that, the thing which he was telling fun and gain is actually the entire opposite. Areum was all having fun with her new rich boyfriend and having a good physical life with Jimin. But here Jimin was always so sad because of her. She's an actual bitch and act like an innocent fool.

"Bora, this is the girl I'm talking about." You pointed at Areum indirectly.

"She was Jimin's girlfriend? Ew. I always know he had a bad taste." Bora said.

"See the boy beside her, he's her new boyfriend. A total bitch." You fumed. As both of you sitting at the corner of the coffee cafe looking at them and goosiping.

"That's Seokjin. Lord." Bora yelled.

"You know him?" You asked.

"For sure. He's the friend of Jungkook. That boy is way too flirt." She giggled.

"Jungkook? You mean that boy?" You asked.

"Ya, remember during the high school party I invited him. You met him quite a few time, ____" she said.

"Wait. There's a Long story about him also dude. Let me finish." You chuckled as you sipped your cold brew.

You explained her how during the break up of Jimin and Areum, she called her new boyfriend. With his new boyfriend there was Jungkook there to threaten Jimin. You had witnessed all the threatening Jungkook given. The way he said 'back off your little ass' , 'fuck another girlfriend, leave Areum' , 'seokjin is like my brother, if anything happens to her girl I won't leave you". All his aggression, confidence in his eyes and a way of firece. Not to mention you liked it.

All this years, you have seen Jungkook. You have seen him in the partis, malls and streets. But after he threatened your bestfriend, you kind of liked him. After that you noticed him in real. How he was flexing his arms while talking to Jimin, how he was rolling his eyes, how he was just standing there looking immensely handsome. With the white t-shirt on and cargo pants, he was looking handsome. That's the first time you actually noticed him.

You really felt bad for Jimin that all the boys get over him. But a certain part of your giggling to recalling all the moment of Jungkook. You never talked to him, neither he took an interest on you. You both were just a known stranger to each other. Known by the faces and stranger by the identity.

At the end of the meet and greet day, you were on your way to outside. Bora was with you. You both were laughing. You met with other old friends too after so long. You took some good memories photo and you felt so good at the end.

"Bora! Hey!" Someone shouted at Bora who was standing beside you at the exit of the mall. She looked back and realized it's Jungkook.

"Hey, Kook. You're here." She giggled.

"Come here with Seokjin. You too here?" Jungkook asked.

"Yeah, with _____(y/n). Meet my bestu." She pointed at you.

"I see." Jungkook just rolled his eyes on you. It's completely like ignoring you. You also completely just looked at your phone to cut off eye contact. It was like ignoring both of their conversation.

You know why he always looked so uninterested on you. After Jimin's broke up, you took Jimin's side and then all those so called cold war started. He absolutely hate you because you opposed him and supported your friend. But you know you were correct. But that never mean that you could not have a crush on him.

His dark hairs falling at his eyes with the little puppy eyes look immensely fierce. His everything is quite recognisable and you remembered each of the detailed about him. But always a guilt that you never spoke to him. You wanted to but his expression kills your inner whore.

"Then spend time with Seokjin. Meet me soon." Bora said.

"Cool. You also spend time with your bestu. I'll meet you soon." Jungkook greeted as he left both of you alone. He gave you a scary look before leaving which you clearly noticed but rolled your eyes.

◉

You entered at your work place. That day you had a lot of work to do. So, you piled up all the papers needed for the work. Basically, you were working as a manager in a hotel as you want to have enough money to publish your book. You work daily so hard to accomplish all your dreams to be a writer. Being a manager you saved enough for your book and have enough to spend the rest on your own. Your work was always way to comfortable for you.

"Good Morning,____." Your boss entered at your work place and greeted you.

"Good morning boss. Do you need something?" You asked.

"I want you to meet someone. Kook! Come in." He shouted to call someone. As he called, a guy entered in the room and it's none other than Jungkook itself.

"Meet Jungkook. From now onwards he will assist you. Your personal assistant." He said.

"Dad! I'm not anyone's assistant here. I'm not doing this thing." Jungkook barked angrily.

"You have to think about that before the car accident. To be more sincere, you have to work as an assistant until or unless I'm sure you can do something on your own." Your boss hissed. You never knew that Jung kook was son of your boss. Your boss looked quite young for a big boy like Jungkook. And never did Jungkook had been in this five star hotel you worked at. You were quite shocked while giggling inside that he had to assist you. That's mean proper supremacy.

"But dad -" Jungkook been cut off by him.

"Meet _____(y/n). I really want you to work with her. She's sincere as well as profound at her work. I think you will be a good Manager - assistant thing." You boss said. As he mentioned your name , Jungkook looks at you. He was as stun as you.

"Thanks Boss. Hello Mr. Jeon Jungkook." You greeted and try to be as professional as you want to stop him from invading in your personal life.

"Now, you both can start your work. I'm leaving." You boss said as he left your work place leaving you and Jungkook alone.

For few minutes it was like a dread silence. Only your computer making the typing sound. You don't know how to start a conversation. The only thing you know was that you should be professional with him. No perosnal talks. Only see him as your assistant or more like your boss's son. Jungkook was there right behind you still astonished and don't know from where to start. He was already feeling so sad about being someone's assistant but it made worse after realising it's you. You were his manager. Internally he hated you, but you liked him. You know he hated so much. But neither you had talked to him nor he talked to you. It was an internal war of friendship. Because both of your mutual friends were rivals. So, you both also knew you have to be each other rivals too.

"You work here?" Jungkook smirked.

"Yes, Mr. Jeon. As you're my assistant now, I'll teach what you have to do." You weirdly smiled.

"I'm not your assistant first of all. It's for my dad sake. Or I would never have to work here." Jungkook arrogantly said.

"It's okay Mr. Jeon. But I have to abide by my boss rules." You said.

"What's with Mr. Jeon? Don't you know me?" Jungkook asked smirkingly.

"Do I?" You asked.

"Dude, you're Bora's as well as Jimin's bestfriend. I clearly have seen you hundreds of times. Don't deny that you never have seen me." Jungkook smirked.

"Sorry, Mr. Jeon. But I'm at my work place. No perosnal talks please." You hesitantly said. You felt like a large piece of stone got off from your heart. You never want to talk to him about your personal matters or it would go real wrong.

"Stop calling me Mr. Jeon for God sake. Call me Jungkook." He ranted.

"Okay, Mr. Jungkook. Anything you like." You said.

" God! You're so annoying dude. No more formalities please. Jungkook only." Jungkook yelled at you. You know how to annoy people. You were just testing his patience and as expected he was way more patienceless than you have thought.

"Okay Jungkook. Call me _____(y/n) then." You smirked.

"Whatever." Jungkook rolled his eyes as he sits at the table.

He was on his phone through out you were working. You thought of giving him some work. But the way he was sitting, getting annoyed by you and those priceless smiles across his face whenever he was playing in his phone. You can't deny but you want to admire him all day long. You and Jungkook was all alone in the room. No one was there. You were working on your files and peeping at him when he was not looking at you.

"Dude, give me some work or something. I'm getting bored." Jungkook sighed as he put his phone aside and looked at you.

"I thought you don't want to work! But sure, being your manager I'll give some work to do." You proudly said.

"Only for my dad. And also I'm bored so thought doing something with you." Jungkook said.

"Something with me?" You asked. Your sarcasm is way too knowledgeable to your friends. How you turn simple things to some random jokes.

"I-I mean some work with you." Jungkook stumbled.

You told him everything he have to do. All the rules and regulations he had to follow. But at all your words he just rolled his eyes. That kind of annoying to you and you want to beat the shit out of him. But you can be a bigger annoyance than him. And you decide to be one. As Jungkook would never find you interesting or beautiful but you would force him to do so.

After the work, when you finished all your daily work and wrote down all the things you have to do tomorrow on your diary. You were ready to go to your home and work in your book and have some delicious coffee.

"Jungkook now you're good to go. See you tomorrow." You greeted him with a smile.

"So, now what are you gonna do?" Jungkook asked.

"We did all the work today so early. So, now you can go home and so do I." You said.

"Go home! Don't you have anywhere to go? Hangout or parties?" Jungkook chuckled devilishly.

"I prefer home Jungkook. Meet you tomorrow." You said and you're on your way to exit.

"Wait ____. I'm trying to start a conversation. And you're only ignoring me." Jungkook yelled.

"I'm not ignoring. It's just I have pile of work to do." You laughed

"So, if your professional life ended can we talk about your personal life?" Jungkook asked jokingly.

"No. I don't want to." You said as you left the venue for your home. Jungkook was standing there all astonished that why you react like that. Thinks if he asked you something wrong.

As soon as you reached home, you got a text from an unknown number.

You're internally giggling and smirking that it was not you who texted first but it was him. You were happy that finally you got his number. But still you don't want to show that you liked him or anything. You just want to be professional with him so that he'll beg you to talk to him. You're way too annoying and you want to show that to him. You now just want to go tomorrow and annoy him more and more.

◉

"You did well today. You should be proud of yourself!" You smiled at him.

"I'm always proud of myself. Well, now home?" Jungkook asked.

"Yeah, let me just get my things and we'll be good to go." You said as you packed your bag up.

There Jungkook standing looking at you and your curves. He was really so rude to you at first but now he was cooperating with you. He does everything you told him and obediently he did that. As you were busy packing your things. He grabbed your diary across the table to hand over to you.

But before that he looked through the pages of the diary. First few pages, you marked all your day to day plan. Yet as he turn the pages over he looked the brief description you have pointed about everyone. This was something you do whenever you find someone interesting. You always note down their physical and behavioural characteristics about them. Because in a thought that maybe it'll help you in the near future on your books. You always make your books character with attachment of the real people existed. It's kind of a thing you really like.

"His deep ocean eyes when he looked at his rival. For me it his dark hairs which he glides with his veiny hands." Jungkook louldy sang. As you didn't noticed that Jungkook already have your diary and you're looking for it. But those lines he sang just clicked your mind.

"Jungkook! What the hell? Give me my diary." You shouted at him and punched his arms.

"Dude, I'm giving. Wait, let me read some more." Jungkook chuckled devilishly.

"Give me or I'll leave." You rolled your eyes. As he gave the diary back to you. You look at the pages he turn over and generously you looked at it. Properly examining if he fold any of the pages.

"It's okay. I didn't eat your pages." He rolled his eyes.

"I'll check that up." You arrogantly said as you pick your bag up and left for home.

The lines Jungkook read loudly was actually about him. You have written everything about him which you find interesting. You don't want to reveal your secret that you liked him. But you just wished that he didn't read his name there.

As soon as you went home, you got Jungkook's text. It's now kind of become a routine for you to get text from him at night. The whole day you just spend with him and at night we wished you 'sleep well' to end the day. You can't thank your boss enough for him. He's rude but kind. You're annoying but sweet.

"Today we don't have many work Jungkook. You can take a leave today. " You said as you pile up the papers.

"It's okay, I'll help you." Jungkook nonchantly said.

"Well, I also don't have work. So, I'm leaving already." You chuckled.

"It's only afternoon dude." Jungkook sighed

"So? You're so enthusiastic to work, huh?" You asked.

"For you." Jungkook sighed under his breath.

"Wait. You're free now? Any plans for evening?" He asked.

"No I guess. Will eat and watch something so far." You excitedly said.

"Let's hangout?" Jungkook smirked

"Huh? With whom?" You dumbly asked.

"With me of course dude. You and me. I never have talked to you in person. You always so professional." Jungkook giggled

"Umm... I might be - " you got intreuppted by him.

"Please don't say no. I also want to know why every one wants you be there bestfriend." Jungkook pleased. You really want to go at the first go but you want him to plead to you. And he did, and you accepted that.

"Okay then but home by night." You smiled.

He accepted and asked you to wait for him till he take his car at the front. You waited for him at the main door. But you saw he forget his phone at the table. And repeatedly his phone just lights up as there were messages flooded on his phone. You decided to peep into it. Your inner detective rises as you checked his phone. You know it's wrong to check anyone's personal thing but he also did first with your diary. You looked at the top messages, it's filled with many flirty girls texts, some work related texts and lastly Seokjin text which popped up as soon as you open it.

Your inner self was burning right then. You thought Jungkook was not like that but you were wrong. He was like that, a total rude brat. But before you he acts like all sweet and flirty. Yet he was totally the different personality in real. He still thinks of you as a ugly and rival person. You can't process what did he mean by 'I'll fuck a pig than you'. You were keep repeating the lines in your head. The more you imagine it, the more your blood was boiling for him. He was traitor or a chameleon who only knows how to changes colour. You can guess how he thinks about you. He only thinks about you as a ugly, little and fatty bestfriend of his rival. You just want to see him and kick him so hard and want to know why he acts like he actually interested in you.

You were already been worse , you don't want anymore to get worst. You only need to go home and drift in your blanket and sleep till you forget that Jungkook is okay to fuck a pig but not you.

You left for your home without greeting Jungkook a bye. You don't want to hangout with him anymore. You now just want him to beg you to fuck him. You're a total psychopath for this. Your ego is far more bigger than anything in this world. Either he should beg you to fuck him or you never will see his face. You know your ways how to do that. As you think, Jungkook already called you to enquire why did you left after promising for hanging out. But you declined the call. He texted you over hundreds time to know what's wrong with you. But neither you did answer. You were completely ignoring him.

The past days you just ignored him, his texts and calls everything. Everytime he comes to talk to you at interval you just passed him. If comes to ask you something you directed him to the other managers. Even ones he asked you why you were acting so differently and ignoring him. But you straight up rolled your eyes on him. He got so annoyed by your actions. He only wants to know if he made some mistakes. But more than the mistakes you feel that it's a double game. He only wants to insult you and nothing else. You also know it's better to stay away from double faced people.

You were at your workplace constantly ignoring Jungkook. You never pick any personal calls during your work. But as it's lunch time and Jimin was calling you, being a good bestfriend you picked it up.

"Bestie! You're at work?" Jimin asked through the phone.

"Umm.. yeah. Anything?" You said.

"Today, I prepared dinner for you. Specially for you. Please come over at my place." Jimin said.

"Ahhh! Jimin! Tonight I can't. There's a lot of undone work." You ranted.

"You always say this things. Shut up, you have to. Else I will pick you up. Okay?" Jimin asked smiling.

"No need to come here. I'll come, it'll be late." You sighed.

"Great bae. Love you always." Jimin sang.

"Meet you tonight. Bye." You said.

"Say it back, piggy." Jimin shouted.

"Ahhhh love you Jimin! Bye." You also sang the same way he did and declined the call. You were already tired and again you have to go there.

Someone was there to noticed all the things you were doing, it's Jungkook. He heard all the talks with Jimin. Heard the way you have a plan tonight with Jimin, the way you sang love you to Jimin and the way you were giggling all the time talking to Jimin and not him. His inner spirit boiled to know you were again talking to that little brat who was his rival and he got jealous that you never hangout with him but you at once get ready to hangout with Jimin. He couldn't sit with his inner boiling ego. He need to ask you what happened, why did you hangout with Jimin and many other questions which a boyfriend need to ask his girlfriend. Time by time there was some sudden urge which keep him engaged with you. It could be your personality, your way of showing emotions and everything you do. He also fall for you but still didn't know it.

Jungkook just entered the room where you were working and shut the door arrogantly. You were amazed what he just did but without caring much you did your work.

"Working, huh?" He asked. You just nodded a yes.

"Free tonight? Thinking of taking you to any restaurant." Jungkook smirked.

"Busy tonight. Hope you will understand." You rolled your eyes.

"Busy tonight with your boyfriend Jimin, huh?" Jungkook chuckled devilishly. Your eyes just burned to hear that. You frowned.

"Sry, my mistake. I mean your so called best friend Jimin." Jungkook rolled his eyes.

"Jungkook, mind your own business." You shouted. He walk up to you and stand straight right before your face.

"Now,I understand why Jimin broke up with Areum. Jimin got you." He said as he pinned you at the wall. He thoroughly looked into your eyes leaving no gap. His hot steamy breath could be sensed by your cold skin. Each word he spokes makes your heart pound. His wide chest touches your torso. He was furious and angry that time you could clearly guess. But more he come nearer to you. You felt like hugging him. Instead of asking him to leave you, you just glared into his eyes. Both of you were stolen in each other eyes. No one was taking back.

"Love you Jiminiee." Jungkook mimicked you.

"Jungkook, stop it"

"Tell me that you love Jimin and I'll leave."

"What if we stand like this forever." You winked.

"Don't play with me, ____(y/n)" Jungkook smirked as he come closer to your face.

"What if I kiss you now?" You smirkingly said.

"Then do that! Jimin again got a cheater girlfriend. Poor Jimin." Jungkook giggled.

"I'm glad that he didn't get a girlfriend like Areum." You frowned.

"Mind your business. Dare not to speak anything about them." Jungkook arrogantly said.

"Who started, huh? Who's now pinning me? Who's jealous about Jimin? Who wants to take me to dinner? Hear yourself, baby." You playfully winked as you punched him to get off from him. He took a back from you.

"Seokjin is right my taste is real bad. Live with your Jimin happily." Jungkook said.

"First of all he's right to say that. Having a friend like Seokjin shows your taste. Secondly, Jimin is not my boyfriend. Lastly, don't ever dare to talk to me and fuck off." You ranted as you leave the room.

(✿ ♡‿♡) (✿ ♡‿♡) (✿ ♡‿♡)

TAGS : @mellie1409 @pariyansha @alienatedkitten @chans-baby-girl @mwitsmejk @hello-stranger24 (sry the tags are not working)

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