#personally i’m fine with him seeing any of the stuff i wrote but i know there’s people out there who don’t want their fics reacted to | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

vmpiires · 9 months

Text

𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐎 𝐊𝐀𝐌𝐎

„𝐈𝐍𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐈𝐓𝐘”

𝐂𝐖;; mature content. afab!reader, stoner!choso, non-curse/sorcerer AU, no uses of y/n. not proofread so i apologize in advance for any mistakes if they’re made.

𝐏𝐋𝐎𝐓;; choso’s mind has been spiraling for a couple days now. the fact that you wrote your phone number down on his hand had him going. he wanted to call you. he wanted to text you. but he just couldn’t. in order to be sanitary, he’d write the number down again on a sticky note and scrubbed the ink off his skin. he didn’t have time for a lover…but he felt like making time for you.

₊❏❜ ⋮ part one ⌒

. ݁ ࣪ ، ⌗ masterlist

: ̗̀➛ art creds by;; currently unknown. dividers are not mine, if you own these, you may claim them in comments.

: ̗̀➛ WORD COUNT;; 2.33K

dark mode recommended

do not copy this plot. i’m perfectly fine with inspirations but give creds. if this plot his stolen in any way, the post will be taken down and you will be blocked.

𝐃𝐀𝐊𝐎𝐓𝐀𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒 ✉️🖇️;; idk how long this story will stretch but if ya like it,, i’ll make more parts to it. not too many though. i wanna get to geto too (as promised). hope ya enjoyyyy. reblog to support meeee and if you want more :D (also lmk if you wanna be tagged for possible upcoming parts if i decide to continue)

another note: i finally made a masterlist. that shit took me 5 HOURS to make because i was fixing and adding so much stuff. i just wanted it to be pretty. ya should go look at it :P and should i make a AO3??? i see so many writers with them and i was wondering if i should do that too..

final note: guys,, remember this is my personal twist on the mid 90’s era so some things from current time will be put into the story (such as the ability to text without emailing one another or using a pager, familiar current time songs that are added into the 90’s era of this story, certain tv shows/movies that came after the 90’s)

₊❏❜ ⋮ continue to part three ⌒

“choso, we should make the house look like a haunted house!” itadori suggests. october was the season of spooks and scares (as yuji put it) and choso wasn’t into festivities that much but if he had to do it to make his little brother happy, he would do it.

the boys make their way to the nearby department store, letting yuji pick out what decorations should be put up in the house. for a little boy, choso didn’t even even pick up how significantly scary the items were because yuji wasn’t shitting himself out of fear.

“uh…yuji, i know you said you wanted the place to look like a haunted house…are you sure you won’t freak yourself out and start crying?” choso said, stifling his laughter.

“i’m not gonna cry.” yuji crossed his arms. “and i’m not scared of some dumb clowns. they’re just decorations, anyway.”

yuji was more mature than he looked…in the aspect of fear. he was a small boy but things didn’t scare him easily. you could say he’s a risk taker outside his moments of vulnerability. choso knew that he’d might jump back behind him, tightly holding the hem his tan sweater if he saw kechizu. the male finally smiles at the pink haired boy and nods.

“you’re right. they’re fake.” choso says calmly.

as they approach the checkout area, yuji sees the food area. serving simple things like pizza, hotdogs and drinks. the stuff you’d find at a concession stand of a sports game.

“can we get a pizza?” yuji asked. choso paused. he didn’t intend on spending 13 dollars on food from a department store. he had other plans anyway.

“you sure you want that? i was gonna get you a happy meal before we went home.” the male yawned, threading his fingers through his hair. the sudden mention of a happy meal excites yuji like a child on christmas morning.

“never mind, i don’t want pizza.” itadori quickly switches. choso chuckled, knowing how easy it was to get yuji to think about his choices.

“aw, cute kid,” choso heard a voice behind him. the male whipped his head around, his brown hair following along with him, only to see you standing there with a smile.

“is this your little brother?”

choso flushed a red color when he instantly remembered your face, almost making him feel bad for not calling you or texting you since you dropped off your number to him. he was feeling slightly embarrassed.

“uh..yeah, that’s—this is yuji.” he stumbles a bit, trying not to make his embarrassment known. itadori already knows the deal, so he waves at you with a big toothy grin, making you smile and wave back at him.

“um..what’re you doing here?” choso queried, trying to spark a conversation first for once. the male was obviously nervous and you could see his cheeks reddening the more he looked at you. if you didn’t know any better, you would’ve thought he would explode right in front of your eyes.

“shopping, like everyone else,” you teased. “but really, i just gotta pick some stuff up for my mom and then i’ll be on my way.”

your eyes travel over to the shopping cart that yuji was clinging onto, looking at the halloweeny decorations and you smile.

“you don’t seem like the type to be into holidays really,” you start, “did your brother convince you?”

choso also looked at the shopping cart full of stuff and blushed even harder. he was already flustered enough. it couldn’t get any worse than this.

“oh—no..he didn’t,” he chuckled nervously, “i actually really like halloween. the scary shit—stuff…you know, the movies? they’re cool.”

you giggled at choso’s nervous attempts to speak to you about the festivities that he almost never participated in and the quick fix with his mistake of swearing in front of yuji like he wasn’t there.

“oh, so you like horror movies? yeah, you strike me as that kind of guy.” you said. you couldn’t help but notice his medium length hair, just like you had seen the other night when he was working, flowing in the wind that came through as the store doors slowly slid themselves open as customers exited the building.

the male wore an oversized tan sweater with a pair of joggers and some sneakers. you could tell this was a lazy outfit. something you’d call a ‘no one will see me’ outfit.

his eyes were tired and he had a stoic expression, aside from his profuse blushing that began to die down when he finally got the chance to relax, having his hands shoved down into his pant pockets. his irises were so pretty. a pretty shade of purple. you never seen anyone’s eyes look like his before.

the silence prolonged for a moment. the two of you suddenly ran out of things to say. this was perfectly fine for choso. he would’ve lost his mind if he had to keep talking. it wasn’t that he didn’t enjoy talking to you. he was just too scared.

but it wasn’t long before that silence was disturbed.

“my big brother really likes you. he thinks you’re pre—” itadori starts before choso swiftly covers his mouth with his significantly larger hand, making you giggle once more.

“i’m sorry about that…yuji just likes to say random stuff when the silence is too loud for him.” choso said trying to cover up his embarrassment.

“it’s okay,” you smiled at him. your words seemed to ease his nerves a bit but it wasn’t enough to completely calm him down. you glance down at your phone when you feel it vibrate against your thigh.

it’s your mom texting you, asking if you’re on your way back.

“oh, sh—shoot,” you say, quickly fixing your mistake before you actually said it. “i gotta go. my mom just texted.”

choso is quickly snapped out of his embarrassment trance and his head swings over to look at you, his hair following along.

“you’re going?” he asked. through his dead and serious expression, you could see a hint of sadness. a very small change in his usual expression. you nod.

“yeah. but listen, you should call me. you don’t have my number just to stare at it.” you remarked before hurrying off, waving at him as you did.

once you were out of his sight, his eyes quickly struck down to yuji. he looked like he wanted to scold the poor boy for publicly embarrassing him in front of you but he decided against it and his expression softened.

“let’s just get home…” the male sighed.

choso was happy it’s his day off. he got to stay home with his little brother to help decorate their home with terrifying decorations for halloween. choso couldn’t help but smile at yuji’s futile attempts to scare him with the masks from the store.

“come on, you aren’t even a little scared?” yuji removed the mask from his face and shook his head to fix his hair, which was flattened and sticking to his forehead.

“not even in the slightest.” choso chuckled before ruffling itadori’s hair lightly. “what about your friends? you try to scare them yet?”

“megumi is almost never impressed. he’s kinda lame….and out of the question.” yuji hummed. “but i can get nobara. she’s always screaming.”

“well, you can do that tomorrow,” choso yawned, “you gotta get ready for bed soon. you got school in the morning and i don’t want you to be tired and falling asleep in class.”

yuji frowned before he’d hug choso. it took a moment for choso to process the moment, given that he wasn’t too used to being hugged. choso finally hugged the boy back before smiling softly.

“i’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

yuji nodded and smiled back at his older brother before making his way to his room.

when yuji had finally gone to sleep, the house was quiet, leaving choso staring at the ceiling with his hair in disarray and an unlit cigarette between his lips all while he laid on the bed, doing maladaptive night dreaming.

‘workin out’ by JID played softly from the small radio that sat on the windowsill. his eyes slowly traveled over to the shoe box that stood out from all the other boxes in his closet. there was a bright yellow sticky note at the top with what seemed to have your phone number on it along with your name.

the male sat up on the bed and walked over to the box, snatching the sticky note from the box then walking over to his laptop that sat on the umber colored desk.

choso opened the laptop and navigated to the facetime app and decided to punch in your number. he could feel his stomach turning as the low adverb jingling sound repeated itself.

while he waited for you to answer, he’d take one of the rubber bands off of his wrist and tie his hair back, leaving his bangs to hang down in his face. he even took the time to fix the violet eyeshadow that he always had around his eyes, staining his fingers each time he touched around his eyelids. and finally, he’d press down on the bandage over his nose to make sure it was still sticking.

you suddenly pick up, finally answering choso’s call. your room was a bit dark like his, except you had your tv going on in the background. it was loud enough for choso to be able to hear.

unlike choso, you were sitting on your bed with your laptop. you had your hair tied up in twin messy buns with a little bit of your hair hanging down in your face. you wore a black spaghetti strap tank top, revealing the tattoo on your shoulder, and a pair of grey joggers with mismatch socks.

“i honestly did not hear this thing going off,” you giggled as you pushed the hair out of your face. you had been downstairs grabbing yourself a drink while choso was calling. “i’m sorry i didn’t answer right away, though.”

“oh..no, it’s fine. you aren’t busy are you?”

“no, not really. i was thinking about finishing this show i was watching. have you heard of american horror story?”

“yeah, i heard of it. i just never got around to watching it. i’d rather watch movies than an ongoing series.” choso explained simply before he’d light his cigarette. you nod, completely understanding his side.

“shit, well, what movies do you recommend? horror movies, since we’re in spooky season.” you flash a cheeky smile at him. choso’s heart skips a beat when you finally ask him what he’s interested in. he pauses and begins thinking, taking drags from his cigarette.

“there’s one movie, i can’t tell you all of em off the top of my head,” he begins, “watch midsommar. it’s kinda disturbing but you might like it.”

“is it gory horror or..?” you ask before taking a sip of your drink as you began to type in the movie name into the search bar in another tab, scrolling through websites to catch any good details about said movie.

“you’ll have to see for yourself,” choso places two of his digits around the cigarette, gently adjusting it between his lips before it could slip out. you realize the longer you talked to him, the more comfortable he seemed to be but you could still see that he was nervous.

“maybe we can see about it together,” you suggest to the male. “whenever you’re free, of course.” you add quickly. all of a sudden, choso is blushing just as he did at the store earlier that day. you thought it was kinda adorable how he could look so disinterested to suddenly flustered and scared so quickly.

“i—well..” choso stammered, “yeah, sure…uh, we can watch tomorrow night when i put my little brother to bed. i don’t want him interrupting anything.”

you giggled, “aw, he’s so cute, though. but i get it. little kids can get in the way of a lot of stuff.”

the two of you conversed for what felt like hours. your voice was soothing to choso. each time you began to speak, he just imagined you calling his name…just once.

your call with choso ended around three in the morning, and your cheeks were pink, smiling to yourself as you remembered the random conversations that you two had not too long ago.

you hadn’t felt like this about a guy in a long time. while men were usually throwing themselves at you, choso was clearly the odd one out. he was a bit shy but assertive and smart.

choso’s voice was deep as it came from the depths of the ocean but his words flowed smoothly like butter when he wasn’t tripping and fumbling with his words trying to hide his embarrassment.

his style, his personality, the way he looked. in your eyes he was perfect but there were a million things stopping you from telling him you loved him.

what if he has a girlfriend already? what if he isn’t ready for a relationship? what if he doesn’t want one? he probably just wants to be friends.

aside from all those thoughts clogging your brain, you were aware that you’d be moving to fast by throwing that L word around loosely when you just met him a couple days ago.

“damn it.” choso sighed to himself.

‘you’re falling for her…but you don’t have time for her. what’re you doing?’ choso was beating himself up about the whole entire situation. another cigarette is taken out of the pack and lightened as he tried to calm his anxiety and spiraling thoughts.

he was going crazy. he didn’t know what he would do. he wanted you out of his head. he was starting to feel stupid for letting you swoon him as easily as you did at the bar.

part of him wished he never met you…

but he needed more of you.

𝐄𝐍𝐃.

⋆｡࿇ ·࣭࣪̇˖ 𖦹°༅༚

168 notes · View notes

psychovigilantewrites · 8 months

Text

Sunshine's Shadow

Pairing: Jason Todd/Reader, Dick Grayson/Reader Genre: Slow burn smut? Porn with plot? Like eventually??? Word Count: 7,600 Read on Ao3 Part 1 of 2. Summary: You had powers of darkness that made you feel unwanted your whole life. Jason Todd was the first person to convince you that your darkness was sunshine. After his death, you went to Dick for comfort and started a relationship with him. And then, Jason came back. A/N:

I'm practicing writing again to prepare myself for the last chapter of Red Who? I'm not too happy with how I wrote this, but I'm hoping to start improving again along the way as I write and learn all over again. Also, I am not familiar with Titans! I know Jason never really joined? I just winged it I'm so sorry. I also aged up Jason's death here. I think the timeline is a bit messy pls forgive me.

Jason knocked on your door.

“Come in,” he heard your soft, muffled voice.

You were sitting on your bed, scrolling through your phone. You had soft instrumental music playing in your room. The table lamp was switched on on your bedside table, but the room was still dark.

“We’re getting ready for a spooky movie tonight,” Jason said, closing the door behind him and approaching you. “Care to join us this time?”

Your eyes darted from your phone to his, and you pursed your lips in hesitation.

“No thank you, I’m fine here,” you said and brought your attention back to your phone.

Jason sighed loudly and sat on the edge of your bed.

“Why don’t you ever join us?” he asked, “We’re the Teen Titans. We’re a team. You should join us for more team stuff besides official missions.”

You simply stared at Jason. He sensed that you had more to say but was hesitating opening up. So he got up and sat next to you. “You can tell me.”

“The room is dark, isn’t it?” you asked.

The question surprised Jason. “I mean, I guess? So what?”

“That’s me, Jason. You know how my powers work. This- this curse. The shadow I emit makes everything dark and gloomy, even if it’s a sunny day outside. And no one likes someone who brings darkness in a room,” you avoided his eyes and started picking at a hangnail on your finger.

“That’s why you won’t hang out with us?” he couldn’t help but laugh. “I thought you hated us or something.”

“What?” you looked at him incredulously, “How could I? I was afraid that you all hate me for being so depressing.”

“Has anyone told you that before?” Jason asked. He didn’t know much about where you came from, but he knew that you went to a lot of different schools and orphanages. An outsider, not unlike himself.

“The kids were always scared of me,” you confessed quietly, “They refused to play with me. That was fine, but then soon after they would bully me. Make fun of me, push me down, kick me. Reminded me again and again that I was a freak.”

For some reason, Jason always had the urge to protect you, even though you were slightly older than he was. Now that urge was stronger and he wanted to hurt anyone who hurt you, to shield you from all that negativity.

“Well,” he began, “I don’t know about those assholes, but whenever I see you, I never saw darkness.”

You raised an eyebrow.

“Really!” he insisted, “I see a girl who likes to read, and who likes music. I see you smile whenever Roy and Jackson bicker. And when Wally does that thing where he starts vibrating when he eats? And on the field? The way you protect everyone, the way we can all trust that you have our backs.”

Jason held your eyes. “I don’t see any darkness. In fact, I see sunshine! Because whenever you’re around, it makes us all feel warm and safe.”

He saw the way you were trying hard to not let the tears brimming your eyes fall. “You’re not lying.”

It wasn’t a question, it was a statement.

“Of course I’m not,” he confirmed. “Have I ever lied to you?”

“I guess not,” you sniffled, “I can tell when people lie. And you have never lied to me.”

“What do you mean you can tell when people lie?”

“I don’t know. It’s sort of always been a thing I could do,” you shrugged, “I don’t join in conversations, so I just observe people, and I can sort of tell what they’re thinking or when they’re lying.”

“Ah, I think I know a thing or two about that,” Jason smiled fondly.

“Thank you, Jason,” you expressed.

“No problem, Sunny,” he grinned, “I’ll call you that from now on. To remind you.”

Jason thought that he saw you blush in the dim light. “So what do you think? Wanna join us for spooky night? I mean, your shadow would even be helpful. It’ll create the spooky ambience we’re all looking for.”

“Is there popcorn?” you grinned.

***

You dumbass, you thought.

The rain had you soaked and shivering.

Jason Todd, you absolute asshole.

The smell of wet dirt was overpowering. Your team stood with you despite your shadow engulfing them in darkness. Roy had his hand on your shoulder.

The white petals stuck to the polished wooden casket as it was lowered into the ground. Your heart had already broke, and you had gone through the stages of breaking down, sobbing uncontrollably, not being able to sleep for a week after they told you the news. Right now, you felt nothing but emptiness.

The casket hit the ground with a dull thud, and you heard the wet footsteps of others leaving the grave. You looked up at the crowd. Dressed in black, you saw some familiar faces. Clark Kent and Diana Prince were with Bruce Wayne, standing in solidarity. A fiery red color caught your eyes, and you saw whom you knew as Starfire. Tall, confident, and radiating with a soft warm glow- everything that you wished you were. She was next to Dick Grayson, and your eyes made contact with blue ones, ones that reminded you of Jason.

Dick gave you a sad smile.

“I heard you’re not going to continue with the Titans anymore,” Dick broke the silence. The rain was still pouring, pounding on the glass window of the car. “Where do I drop you off?”

“East End, along Murphy Avenue,” you replied. You watched two droplets on the window fall down, racing against each other. “I have some boxes left in the Tower, but I don’t feel like seeing them today.”

“Are you going to be okay on your own? You’re not even 18 yet.”

“I’m turning 18 in three months,” you rolled your eyes. “And I already got a job.”

“Oh? That was quick. What job?”

“Private investigator,” you responded, “Lot’s of scandals in Gotham. It’s quite easy to get a job if you’re half decent.”

“Pay well?”

“Well enough.”

Silence again. Dick made a turn.

No word was said until he stopped in front of the apartment complex. Unknown to you, Dick made a mental note to check the apartment out.

“Thanks, Dick.” Something stopped you from leaving the car. Something warm. Ah, it was Dick’s hand on yours.

You looked over and stared into his bright blue eyes. “I’m here for you. Anytime of the day or night. Text me, call me, whatever. You’re not alone.”

It was his expression. The pain and grief and sincerity in his eyes. A hint of desperation, even. By now, your talent for reading people had developed, and you could tell more than just basic emotions. Dick didn’t want you to leave him alone.

Your pulse quickened.

“Would you… Like to come in?” you asked.

Dick was surprised. His eyes darted downwards in a look of… guilt? And then- “No, it’s alright. You said you wanted some alone time. Go settle down first, then maybe you can give me a house tour sometime.”

Then he gave you the grin. Dick Grayson’s charming, heart-stopping grin.

You left the car.

THREE MONTHS AFTER THE DEATH OF JASON TODD

You spent your birthday alone, ignoring the invitations from your ex team members. They all wished you happy birthday, and sent you voice notes of them singing. They said they wished you were there with them, and that they hoped you were well. You replied with a simple thank you.

The apartment you made yours was bare. The walls had no art, and the TV was unplugged. What was the point? Your darkness would have made the art on the walls difficult to see and it was not like you were planning to invite anyone over.

A couple of case files sat neatly on the dining room table, where you did your work. Your name had spread by word of mouth after your first client three months ago, and now you occasionally received texts from unknown numbers, asking for discretion and offering a few hundred dollars a day for a week of work.

Your phone buzzed. It wasn’t an unknown number this time.

Dick had sent you a text. Happy Birthday! Still waiting for that house tour.

You sent a quick thank you and ignored the rest of the message.

SIX MONTHS after the death of Jason Todd

You arrived late on purpose. “Sorry I’m late.”

You sat down in the booth seat opposite Dick and saw the way his eyes lit up when you announced your arrival.

“No worries,” he brushed it off. “Thanks for coming.”

“Yeah,” you grabbed the dirty menu from the table. Anything to fill up the awkwardness you were expecting. “What do you usually have here?”

“Waffles with ice cream.”

“For dinner?”

“Why not?”

Dick Grayson gave you his Dick Grayson Grin.

You told the aging waitress your order- “I’ll have what he’s having.”

“So how have you been doing? You seem quite busy now, since this dinner was postponed to two months later,” he teased.

“My work isn’t exactly nine to five, five days a week,” you replied curtly. You had avoided this dinner on purpose.

“No, no, I get it. Mine is the same,” he said. “It’s good that you have been getting lots of clients lately. You seem to be high in demand now.”

“Yeah, I am, actually,” you smiled softly to yourself, “I didn’t expect for business to move this fast. I’m mostly investigating cheating spouses and party daughters now, though. Hoping to move on to the more serious stuff.”

“Careful,” Dick warned you, frowning slightly, “Try not to get involved with the politics here. It’s messy, and dangerous.”

“I can take care of myself, Dick,” you assured him.

He paused. “Yeah, I noticed,” his expression quickly changed, “You’ve been controlling your shadow.”

Indeed, you have been working on pulling in your shadow while you were out in public, making it seem as normal as possible so you don’t engulf rooms with darkness, especially with your current state of mind.

Soon after Jason died, you found out that your shadow had grown larger and larger, directly linked to your moods. Then you noticed that it shrank when you were concentrating on your cases, leaving the room bright. So you meditated and practiced, day and night, to keep your shadow and your emotions in check. However, it was tiring to constantly shrink it for long periods of time.

“Practice makes perfect,” you replied bitterly.

“Jason used to talk about you all the time, you know?” he suddenly brought up.

This came as a surprise for you.

“Really?” you cocked your head to the side, “What about?”

“Lots of stuff,” Dick elaborated, “But mainly about how to make you feel more welcomed. How to get you to open up. What stuff to talk to you about. He considered you his best-friend.”

You had considered Jason the same. He was the first person you had truly bonded with, but you never knew that Jason had communicated with Dick about you. True enough, he always tried his best to make sure you never felt left out. You felt your throat tightened and gulped.

Your waffles arrived, and Dick immediately dug in.

“He said that he called you something,” he continued in between bites, “Sunny, right? Said it was short for Sunshine.”

You hadn’t heard that in six months.

Dick looked up at you and panic took over his face. “Shit- I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to- I’m sorry.”

You couldn’t stop the tears from falling down your eyes this time. You quickly wiped them away and stabbed the waffle with your fork.

“No- no, it’s fine,” you insisted, “I just hadn’t heard that name in a while. And I didn’t know he talked to you about me.”

Dick looked at you with concern. “Pretty sure he had a crush on you, with the way he was always talking about you.”

You were pretty sure, too. You could read people well after all.

“What made you choose this diner?” you asked, changing the subject. “We used to come here all the time.”

“Yeah, I haven’t stepped in here since that day,” he avoided saying Jason’s name now.

For the first time since you sat down, you actually studied him, beyond the basic emotions that you instinctively saw in everyone. The slight frown, the dark circles under his eyes, the short chewed up nails, the five o’ clock shadow that was rare for Dick Grayson.

He was grieving alone.

“Whenever Jason faced a problem when he was with us, out in the field, or anything, he would always ask himself- ‘What would Dick Grayson do?’” you told him.

His eyes softened, and you could see tears start to well up too.

“He really looked up to you,” you went on, wanting to give Dick the same comfort he gave you. “His older brother. Though, he kept it quiet. He didn’t want people to notice how much he cared. You know, the whole tough guy act.”

Dick chuckled at that. “But you noticed, of course.”

“Of course,” you smiled fondly at the memory. When asked if his injuries hurt, Jason would always reply with Only when I laugh.

But he accepted the cold compresses and paracetamol you gave him.

12 MONTHS AFTER THE DEATH OF JASON TODD

The camera shutter clicked. You checked the quality of the photo on your digital SLR. Even from across the street and in the darkness of the night, your camera caught the couple entering the motel, hand-in-hand, perfectly. This would be sufficient evidence for your client. The classic case of Cheating Spouse was going to earn you a couple thousand dollars. Frankly, you had considered rejecting the case. You only went for high-profile scandals now. But the client was desperate, and offered a large sum of money for something so easy and simple. It was difficult to refuse.

You contemplated on whether you should go the extra mile to catch them in the act. Or maybe you should just stake out in your car and catch them coming out of the motel. You took pride in how detailed your reports always were, and that was how you managed to build your clientele.

You took a sip of the bad, black coffee, already gone cold.

Peering through the zoom lens, you angled the camera up to the rooms facing the street. The movement you caught, however, was not the lights of a room switching on. Instead, out of the corner of your eye, you saw a shadow hanging about the fire-escape in the narrow alley next to the building. You zoomed in more, and saw a familiar blue and black spandex, white eyes, and a familiar grin.

“Fuck,” you swore to yourself. Of all the places to bump into him.

You had gotten close to him since that dinner. The both of you had been texting regularly, getting to know each other and sharing stories about Jason. It helped you with your grief, and you knew it helped him too. You found out that Dick Grayson was voluntarily very expressive with his emotions, unlike his late younger brother who always needed an extra nudge.

Despite all that, you had been trying your best to avoid Dick for the past few weeks and had been giving him the excuse that you were busy. The truth was, you were scared. You knew how close you were getting to him, and right now you were lonely. So lonely that you were afraid of doing something you would both regret.

Knock, knock, knock. The glass rapped three times.

You looked over at the passenger side and saw that grin. Sighing, you unlocked the door.

“What a nice surprise,” Dick greeted you as he shut the door. “Didn’t think I would see a beautiful lady when I left home tonight.”

You rolled your eyes at his usual flirting. “I’m on a job, Dick.”

“I can see that,” he shamelessly went through your case file that was sitting on the passenger seat before he entered. “I thought you don’t take these cases anymore?”

“The poor guy was desperate, and he offered a lot of money for a simple, menial task,” you explained. “I don’t get why he doesn’t ask someone cheaper. Literally anyone could do this.”

“But they can’t do it as well as you do,” Dick booped your nose with his gloved finger.

“What about you? What brings you to this side of town?”

“Tim needed help with some training. And patrol brings me everywhere, sweetheart,” he smirked.

You noticed that your body had subconsciously turned towards him. His eyes were not visible then, covered by the whites of his mask. He was slightly damp due to the drizzle outside.

You cleared your throat. “I’m going to stake out here until they come out. Note how long they were together.”

“That could be until the sun rises.”

“Yep.”

“Need company?”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “I thought you needed to patrol, and help Tim.”

“Ah, you’re right,” he sighed dramatically, “I’d much rather be in this steamy car with you, though.”

“Go and help your Robin, Dick,” you chuckled, unable to resist him. “Your mentee needs his mentor, Gotham needs its hero and you’re here cozying up with a PI.”

“How irresponsible of me,” he muttered. You hadn’t realized that both of you had moved closer.

You risked a quick glance to his slightly parted lips before tearing your eyes away. He was right, it had suddenly got steamy in the car.

“Text me when you’re back? It’s dangerous to be alone at this hour,” he said before stepping out and flying off in the most flamboyant, Dick Grayson way.

I can take care of myself.

You took deep breaths to calm down and slow your heartbeat.

Maybe you were scared that you were so lonely. But a part of you knew that starting something with Dick wouldn’t be too bad.

You were just scared of being judged by Dick’s dead, younger brother.

The next weekend, you found yourself on your balcony. It was 3 AM, and you were slightly tipsy from the cocktail you made yourself. You closed your eyes and listened to the sound of the wind, the cars, the occasional police siren. You made your decision.

Need you. you texted Dick, knowing he was out on patrol.

15 minutes. he replied.

Jason was dead. There was no one else who understood and accepted you almost as well as Dick did.

You waited out there in the cold for his arrival. When he did land straight on your balcony, his hair was a mess and he was panting slightly. You grabbed his face and kissed him roughly.

It didn’t matter anymore because Jason was dead.

SIX MONTHS AFTER THE ARRIVAL OF RED HOOD.

It was more difficult to control your shadow, but you tried your best. Moving in with Dick helped a bit more as compared to when you were alone, but you were constantly on edge.

He was alive, and what would he think of this? You and Dick? Would he see it as a betrayal?

Dick was having sleepless nights and was gone most of the time to help Bruce with Jason’s tantrum. Six months since Jason had appeared alive, and God knows how long before he crawled out of his grave, but he had not contacted you even once.

And you knew, you knew he was angry at you. That this whole villain arc had at least something to do with you. Even though it didn’t make sense, that you were never together, that you were nothing more than just best friends.

Somehow you felt that the rage and destruction was directed towards you.

For as long as you got together with Dick two years ago, and a whole year of playing cat and mouse with him ever since that kiss, you never had radio silence from him for this long. Two or three days was the maximum, and he would reassure you that everything was fine while you continued on with your PI business. A week long was unheard of.

Then, your phone buzzed.

I’m fine. He’s fine. Everyone’s fine.

You let out a breath that you hadn’t realized you were holding.

Is he back? you asked.

He’s gonna take some time off. Need to go. See you soon.

And so you didn’t sleep until Dick came back home the next morning.

“He’s so… broken,” Dick whispered above your head as he hugged you tightly.

You frowned. You didn’t like that word used to describe Jason. A person couldn’t be broken. People weren’t objects. You knew what Dick meant, that Jason was traumatized- but it didn’t mean that he was broken. Broken meant that you needed to be fixed before someone accepted you, that you needed to be functional or useful.

Broken meant that there was a state where people were whole, and you knew too well that there’s no such thing as a whole person. People just existed in different states, and each state was just as important as the other.

Jason told you all of that when you opened up to him about your past. One day many years ago, you fucked up during a mission. Your shadow had hurt someone a little too badly.

“I don’t even know how it works, Jay,” you had cried, “Sometimes it has a mind of its own and it just reacts outside of my control.”

“You saved me in the end,” Jason tried comforting you, putting his arm around your shoulder as you sat on the carpet of the empty living room.

“But I could have hurt you too,” you argued, “It could have attacked your shadow and killed you, the same way I killed my parents.”

You hadn’t told anyone about that. Only the Justice League knew.

“It was an accident,” Jason insisted.

“I’m just a broken person,” you choked. “No one should be near me.”

That was when he took his arm away and held your shoulders in both his hands, forcing you to face him, to stare into his piercing, fierce gaze.

“Don’t ever let me hear you say that about yourself ever again, got it?” he scolded you, “You are not broken. You’re like- like water. Or air. You exist in different states of matter, and each state you’re in is no less broken than the rest. You’re not broken, okay? You’re Sunny, you’re sunshine. You’re just sunshine…”

NINE MONTHS AFTER THE ARRIVAL OF RED HOOD

“Cheating spouse, undercover at Harvard, cheating spouse again…” you muttered to yourself as you browsed your cases in the living room, illuminated by a single warm light above your head. Dick would complain about the mess in the morning when he eats his cereal.

If he even comes back by tomorrow. you finished your own thought.

The blackmail material requests sounded interesting, but you always hesitated to accept the morally gray ones. You usually would go for missing or runaway children, the evidence of corruption, and the occasional journalist request for an inside scoop.

In fact, your eyes caught one such request. An anonymous journalist from the Gotham Gazelle. You received a text from a disposable two days ago, detailing a locker combination and an address. The contents of the locker were documents within a crisp and new light brown folder- a typical case file, along with a thousand dollars in cash and a promise of another two thousand after completion.

Journalists were not usually this cautious, but if they were investigating someone high profile, it was better to remain anonymous. Especially in Gotham.

You took a sip of your dark roast Arabica coffee, engrossed by what your anonymous client wanted you to get. It was already 11 PM.

Then, you heard the bell ring.

You frowned. Dick wouldn’t ring the bell to his own apartment.

Concentrating on pulling your shadow back, you walked barefoot to the door and looked through the peephole.

Your heartbeat quickened at who you saw standing on the other side of the door.

Calm down, calm down, calm down. Deep breaths.

The door clicked when you unlocked it, and creaked when you pulled it open.

You couldn’t remember when you had stopped counting the amount of days since you saw those piercing blue eyes that were so similar, yet so different from Dicks’. Now they were even more different from what you remembered. They were like battleworn armor standing in an enclosed case.

“There’s my sunshine,” Jason smiled weakly at you.

There was no chance of stopping your tears from falling down your face, so you didn’t even try. You let them flow freely as you speechlessly embraced him and felt his warm arms snake around you. The warmth of an embrace you thought you were never going to feel ever again.

He grew much taller than you. He was 16 when he died, and you were just turning 18. You had stopped growing a year or two before that, but boys kept on growing, didn’t they? He was the same height as you were the last time you saw him, but now he was at least a couple of feet taller. Did that mean he was back long before he started going as Red Hood? What did he do for two and a half years? Who-

“Don’t mean to be rude, but can I come in? I’m freezing my tits off out here,” he said. Even his voice was much, much deeper.

You chuckled and nodded, taking a step away to let him in.

You closed the door behind Jason and watched as he walked in slowly, looking around at Dick’s apartment. You noticed he paused at the dining table where you were working, and then strided to the sofa in the living room before taking a seat. You followed suit and sat next to him, not yet trusting your voice to make a sound.

“So,” he began, “You and Grayson, huh?”

Looking so intently, taking him all in, you almost missed the question.

“You’re bigger than him,” you blurted, before widening your eyes in horror at what you were implying.

Jason raised a scarred eyebrow.

“I mean- you- your build,” you quickly explained, “Your frame. Shoulders. Length. Big.”

“Length?” he smirked.

“Height!” you almost yelled.

Jason leaned closer to you and frowned. “Am I making you nervous?”

You couldn’t bear his piercing eyes, so you looked down at your hands.

“I thought maybe you never wanted to see me again,” you confessed, “I thought maybe you were angry at me, and hated me.”

“I was,” he simply stated.

You looked at him in question.

“Angry at you. For a bit,” he sighed and leaned back against the couch, “But I was angry at everyone. You were no exception. I was just mad everyone had forgotten me. Especially those I cared about.”

“I never forgot you, Jason,” you vowed, “How could I ever?”

“Then why did you-” he cut himself off, “Nevermind. I just wanted to say that I’m not mad anymore. I get it. I was dead, and everyone moved on.”

He crossed his arms and again, you noticed how large his arms were. His face was more mature, jawline more defined and square, eyes now more deep set with extra dark circles underneath them. As if your body had a mind of its own, you reached out to his face and caressed the scar across his cheek.

Jason jumped slightly in surprise at the sudden contact, but then closed his eyes and leaned into your touch.

“You have more scars now,” you pointed out, “What happened?”

You felt his breath down your wrist.

“Another story for another day,” he smiled and opened his eyes. You took your hand away, blushing at how intimate that must have seemed to an onlooker. “Where’s Boy Wonder?”

“No idea,” you shrugged. “You want something to drink? Tea? Coffee?”

“Aw, come on, Sunny!” he got up and walked to the kitchen, “It’s a Welcome Back, Jason party. Where are the fun drinks?”

He started opening your cabinets.

“Wow, make yourself at home, why don’t you?” you shook your head and went to join him.

“Mi casa es su casa,” he sang, “At least, that’s what Grayson told me when he gave me the address. Aha!”

He found the cabinet of liquors. “Wow, I’m quite impressed by his collection.”

“That’s my collection,” you corrected him, “Dick couldn’t tell the difference between tequila and rum even if his life depended on it. I have a variety. What do you feel like?”

“You’re the bartender,” he teased, “Surprise me.”

You nodded and proceeded to make him a drink. Jason sat down at the dining table and nosily looked through your files. That was one thing he and Dick had in common, at least.

You set down a whisky sour for him and yourself before clearing your paperwork to the side, giving him the side eye as you snatched a folder from his hands.

Taking a seat across from him, the both of you dinked glasses together and took a sip.

“Strong,” he commented, “That’s good.”

You accepted the compliment silently.

“So, you don’t know where Grayson’s at?” he inquired.

“Nope,” you replied, “I know he has missions sometimes. Helps out here and there. He’s gone for two or three days before he comes back home with a new bruise or cut. I don’t ask for details unless he starts to tell me about it.”

Your chest made an involuntary squeeze that you tried to hide. There were times when you had asked Dick, and he lied to you. You had arguments over where he was, and who he was with before.

Jason studied your poker face intently, and for a second, you felt as though he was interrogating you.

He took another sip.

“How’s business going?” he changed the subject, “I heard you never went back to the team.”

“I couldn’t,” you answered simply.

“Why not?”

“Everything reminded me of you. It hurt too much.”

A deafening silence. A look of guilt. A looming darkness that grew.

“Business is great, actually,” you went on. “And I enjoy the slower-paced nature of the work.”

“Ugh, even stake outs?” he made a face, not commenting on how your shadow became slightly bigger.

“Stake outs can be nice sometimes,” you argued, “Crank down the window, put the radio on, snack on some fries. Sometimes I read, as well. I’m used to spending long hours by myself.”

“Sounds like you haven’t changed much,” he smiled endearingly at you.

“Not even physically?” you pouted, “I’ve been going to the gym.”

He laughed at that. “Yes, I’ve noticed. You look much more… Mature?”

“Are you saying I look old, Todd?” you huffed.

“So fucking old. A hag.”

You stuck out your tongue at him and laughed together, as if nothing ever changed. As if he never died, as if you never grieved for him and longed for him.

“I’m kidding,” he conceded, “You look good. Really good. Dick’s a lucky guy.”

You frowned at the last comment. “It doesn’t bother you, does it? Me and Dick?”

Another pause. “As long as you’re happy, I’m happy.”

Jason knew you well, so he knew how to answer you. His statement wasn’t a lie.

You heard the jingle of keys in the distance.

“Speak of the fucking devil,” Jason whispered into his drink before taking a big gulp.

“Honey, I’m ho- oh. Jason, I didn’t expect to find you here,” Dick stood in the doorway, stunned.

“Welcome back, babe,” you walked over and greeted your boyfriend with a kiss. For the first time, Dick looked slightly uncomfortable with your display of affection.

“You guys have been hanging out without me!” Dick whined, his child-like persona immediately taking over.

That was how Dick was. You noticed it after a few times with him, how he would mask his emotions or awkwardness with his happy, warm personality. He was a people person, charming his way anywhere and everywhere regardless of any situation.

Yet, you could see through it all. The grief, the aching fatigue, and the countless battle scars.

“Was just leaving,” Jason announced curtly.

“Ngaw, don’t be like that,” Dick tried to persuade him, “Stay a little while. We can catch up.”

“There’s nothing to catch up on,” Jason insisted, “Bye.”

He glanced once at you, and then left without saying a word.

There was a stark difference between the way he was with you and the way he was with Dick. In the short future, you would come to realize that it wasn’t that he was different with everyone else. Jason treated everyone else with the cold, rough demeanor you witnessed- but never you. You were the only one who knew him as though that Jason never died.

You saw Dick’s shoulders slump in disappointment. “How long was he here for?”

“About an hour?” you answered nonchalantly, going back to your case files.

“He has never spoken to me for more than 15 minutes,” Dick informed you, “Even then he would give non-committal answers.”

“Really?” you asked, frowning to yourself. It took just a little while for the both of you to go back to how things used to be. “Maybe he’s more upset at you since you’re his brother.”

“Nah, don’t think that’s it,” Dick came up behind you and nuzzled his face in your neck. “You smell good. Missed you.”

“Missed you too,” you hummed, “How was… Your mission?”

“Tiring,” he complained, “You choose a case already?”

“Maybe,” you replied, “Who was there?”

You heard Dick gulp. “Donna. Kon. Wally.”

“And?”

“Kori.”

You felt your chest tighten again. “Okay. I’m tired too. I think I’ll go to bed now.”

“You just drank coffee,” he pointed out, “You’re going to sleep now?”

“Or just lie in bed,” you responded, “Seeing Jason was… emotional.”

“Yeah, I get it,” he ran a hand through his dark, wavy hair.

“You coming?”

“I have to patrol,” he looked at you guiltily.

“But you just got back,” you argued.

“They can cover more ground when I’m around,” he explained. “Sorry. I’ll spend time with you tomorrow, okay?”

You smiled at him and reached a hand to press on his chest. He was so committed, and that’s what you loved about him. He really, truly cared.

“Just stay safe,” you gave him a deep kiss, tasting the cola chapstick he stole from you months ago.

“I’ll see you in the morning, darling,” he breathed.

That night you lay awake in bed, staring at darkness. You let your shadow go at night, allowing it to take over the room. A buzz came from your phone all of a sudden. Another unknown number.

You tapped it open.

This is my number if you need me. J.

It had been a while since you smiled whenever you lay alone, unable to sleep.

And how did you get mine?

You didn’t actually care. You were just so happy to be texting your best friend again.

I’m just a genius, Sunny. You staying up late to work?

You contemplated your answer.

No. Just couldn’t sleep. What do you do now, anyway? Do you patrol with the rest?

Sometimes. I mostly do my own thing now.

What thing?

Another story for another time, sunshine.

I’m glad you’re back, Jay. Thank you for seeing me today. Can we hang out soon?

We can hang out whenever you want.

You were typing a reply, but was interrupted by another message from him.

I missed you lots.

I missed you too, Jason. We have to get caught up with all the slumber parties we missed.

Don’t think Grayson would be too happy with that though.

My best friend is back from the dead. He can suck it up.

I’ll see you soon then?

You contemplated again.

What are you doing tomorrow? I got an interesting case. Wanna tag along?

***

Jason’s heart broke when he found out that you were with Dick. It was a large reason why he was so angry, and why he became so destructive. But he tried to stay angry at you, tried to hate you, but he just couldn’t bring himself to. The years without you were lonely, and he tried to fill up the emptiness with rage.

It took him so long after Bruce brought him back to his senses to finally see you because he was practicing. He knew he couldn’t bear to look at you and Dick while you were together, so he practiced controlling his emotions so he wouldn’t snap and scare you away.

But when you opened the door and he saw your face for the first time in years, everything dissipated. He didn’t need to control any anger because all he felt was longing. It didn’t matter if you were in love with Dick, all that mattered was that you were there next to him.

“Okay, so,” you began as you pulled the car to a stop in a street at Diamond District. “Rupert Thorne.”

“The guy who is running for mayor?”

“Yeah,” you confirmed, browsing through the documents, “He allegedly backed Hill in the previous elections, but now he is running against Hill. My client wants me to find evidence of corruption and find out who his sponsors are.”

Jason saw the way your brows stitched together as you read through the file.

It was difficult to be in the same car as you. Even though he was in the passenger seat, he felt like it was a small closet, being suffocated by your demanding presence.

“Why doesn’t he sponsor himself? Isn’t he some sort of closeted crime lord too?” Jason asked.

“I guess that’s the mystery,” you hummed, “He must have been promised something, or he must have promised something- if he wins.”

You smelled like warm cinnamon and vanilla. All Jason wanted to do was to bury his face in your neck and breathe you in. The pull he felt towards you was almost physical. He needed to stop himself from touching you, from claiming you.

“So what’s the first step?” he tried to focus on the case.

“He works in that building there,” you looked outside across the street to the tall mirrored tower. “COO of Trident Shipping Company. He’s doing quite well in popularity lately… Articles say he is modest and humble, charming, thoughtful, charitable… The list goes on. Must have a great PR team.”

Jason smiled to himself. You were starting to think out loud, a habit of yours he noticed one night during a strategy meeting with the team. So many years ago.

“Anyway, we want to see where he goes, who he meets, what he does-”

“Oh no,” Jason groaned, “You scammed me into a stakeout!”

He really didn’t mind if it meant spending long hours with you in your cozy car.

“It’ll be fun!” you tried to convince him, “We can catch up in the meantime! Plus, I do also need to bug his phone. Might need your help with that. I also have some metka, so maybe we can pollinate some lead suspects once we narrow them down and-”

“Woah, woah, woah, hold up,” Jason started chuckling in disbelief, “First of all- one step at a time, please. Let’s make a structured flowchart first before you start rambling off fifty-seven steps ahead. Second of all- metka, are you fucking with me right now? How did you get your hands on Soviet Cold War tech?”

Metka or spy dust- chemically known as nitrophenyl pentadienal or NPPD- was an old and outdated, yet still effective, Russian method of marking or tagging suspected CIA agents during the Cold War by the KGB. It was a discreet powder that stuck to everything. They would tag the agents at the airport, and then anything the agent touched would have traces of the dust. Including Russian assets- spies or informants working for the CIA. They would be able to identify the traitors.

“I’m a PI,” you said smugly, “I’m resourceful.”

Yes, you were. Jason beamed proudly at you. But he said, “Yeah, yeah. Anyway, how about the bug?”

“I have this-” you rummaged through your messenger bag and took out a small silver card the size of a hotel matchbox. It had the Bat sigil.

“So I assume you have Batman’s NFC card because you’re resourceful?” Jason teased. He knew the gadget well. The near field communication device allowed hijacking into another electronic device with NFC just by near contact. It could allow for cloning the device, or installing spyware.

You stuck your tongue at him childishly.

“I wonder what Batman would think of you stealing his gadgets for personal use,” Jason jested.

“Okay, I borrowed it from DIck, and it’s not like I’m using it for personal reasons. This is a highly professional operation,” you huffed, “Anyway, if you could let me finish telling you my plan. It says that Thorne is into French girls and he usually comes out for a smoke break around this time.”

“And?”

“I will be bumping into him. The NFC needs about 30 seconds of contact. I’ll slip the card in the pocket where he keeps his phone. But in case I can’t stick around to take it out, you will have to come walking behind me to pickpocket it from him.”

“Sounds good. What if he’s using his phone?”

“I’ll bump it out of his hand and apologize profusely,” you grinned. “Okay I need to get ready.”

You unbuttoned your weathered leather jacket to reveal a white top with a low neckline, giving Jason a good view of your cleavage.

“Uhhh,” he started awkwardly.

You ignored him and looked in the mirror, smearing lipstick on your lips and smacking them. Then, you ruffled your hair to give it more volume before turning to face him with a “How do I look?”

The red you chose for your lipstick matched your skin tone perfectly. And he never noticed you had a tiny cute mole on the top of your left breast. The way your hair was effortlessly messy made Jason imagine that was how you would look like in the mornings, or when he takes a handful of it while kissing you rough-

“G-great,” he complimented weakly.

If he hadn’t already died, then you were going to be the death of him.

“Oh shit, there he is,” you opened the car. “Quick, hang around a few feet behind me.”

Jason saw you strut as you approached Thorne. He was tall and handsome, and looked good for a man his age. Jason could tell that his suit was expensive. His coat was probably cashmere. He could see why Thorne was so popular. He definitely looked the part. He was talking on his phone, and he was now curious as to what you had in mind.

From down the block and in the crowd, Jason saw you pretend to talk on your phone in perfect French, rushing somewhere unknown. He didn’t notice the cup you were carrying before.

“Ah, putain! I am zo zorr’y, Monsieur!” you bumped hard into Thorne, spilling liquid all over his coat and yourself.

Thorne looked surprised, and then pocketed his phone in his coat. “It’s quite alright.”

“No, no, pleez. Let me ‘elp you,” you made a fuss. You took out a handkerchief from your bag and simultaneously shrugged off your jacket. Jason smirked to himself. No hot-blooded male would be able to resist the sight of you in a wet white low neckline t-shirt.

“Let me pay for your dry cleaning,” you worried, “Oh, putain it speeled down here too.”

You got on your knees and started dabbing the hem of his coat.

“You really don’t have to do that,” Thorne smiled and held your shoulder in a gesture to help you up.

“I am really zo zorr’y,” you looked up at him.

A flash of lust sparked Thornes’ eyes, and Jason knew you were batting your eyelashes at him from that angle. It made him want to punch Thorne square in the jaw.

“It’s really alright, madam,” he insisted, “It was my fault for standing in the middle of a busy pedestrian walkway.”

“I should ‘ave watched where I was walking,” you bit your lip and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Well, let’s just both move on from this. Please don’t worry, I can get my assistants to get me another coat,” he rested his hand on your lower back as he walked you towards the street. “Here is my business card. Feel free to contact me if you need any help navigating the city. I would love to show you all the fine restaurants in Gotham.”

“Monsieur, you are too kind,” you pouted.

“I should thank you for bumping into me,” he winked, “It’s not everyday I get to see a beautiful lady.”

You pretended to blush.

“I have to go now,” he announced, “Please give me a call.”

And with that, he entered the building.

You walked towards Jason with the look of a kid who scored his first goal.

But then, facing him now, Jason swore under his breath. No wonder you managed to bewitch Thorne so easily.

Your shirt was practically see through, and everyone was turning their heads at you. He could see your black lacy bra, and how your tits bounced as you jogged towards him.

“Hells to the yes!” you celebrated, “That was more than thirty seconds. I got the card back and- what are you doing?”

Jason had grabbed your jacket and forcefully put it over your shoulders. “Let’s hurry back to the car.”

Yeah, you were going to be the death of him.

#jason todd #dc comics #batman #red hood #dick grayson #jason todd/reader #dick grayson/reader

160 notes · View notes

russellsppttemplates · 5 months

Note

Hiii girl 🪻💐! First, nice to meet you xx ! I really love your vibe. Love purple pp 💜! Can I request a small os, please? I saw you wrote monegasque reader and all cute os. Can I ask you (you choose) Lando/Charles/Oscar with inked!reader (like full arms tattoos and stuff) it’s always wag so ✨perfect clean✨, I’m tired to see the clean vibe, I want to be delulu with rockie vibe, feminine tattooed wag, normal wag 😬. Topic could be : new tattoo with driver reaction or handle with people opinion. Thanks 💜🪻 if you’re not feeling to write it, it’s okay too. Have a nice day xx

Note: hiiii! Welcome to this little corner of the Internet I made along with everyone who follows this blog! Thank you - this is supposed to be as much a safe pace for you as it is for me 🫶 I hope you had a good day, too! 🫶

"Someone spotted you when you left the tattoo studio", Oscar said as he stepped inside the apartment after having spent the day in the Center, noticing you were wearing a cardigan even though it was a warm day out, "they posted a picture online".

"So it's not a surprise, is it?", you slumped your shoulders slightly, shrugging the cardigan off.

"I don't know what you got, so it's still a surprise, sweetheart", he smiled, hugging you and being mindful of the wrap around your arm.

Oscar sat on the sofa and allowed you to model the new tattoos for him. Your right arm didn't seem to have any new ink to it, the same three tattoos you had in there still looking beautiful after two years. You like the idea of having one arm slightly more bare than the other so your right arm only had those three on the inner side of it, peeking through whenever you were sleeveless tops. Your left arm was the one where the tattoos were the most noticeable, the ink pieces scattered along the extension of the limb.

"I got this one, it's a bee", you pointed to the inner part of your arm, "it represents my safe hive, the people who are always there for me even if I'm not there in person", you explained. You had moved in with Oscar a couple of months ago and, more than ever, you spent long periods of time away from your family since you travelled to see your boyfriend race as much as you could, "I know I can fly away, but no matter how far and how hard times can be, I'll always be able to come back".

"It looks so pretty, the detail on the wings is so precise", Oscar pointed out.

"I chose the artist at that studio because she is great at doing the fine line tatoos with red ink", you began again, smoothing out through wrap so Oscar could see, "it's a heart with some flowers blooming from it", you pointed to the anatomical drawing, "whenever I set myself to do something, I pour my heart and soul into it, and my intuition hasn't failed me, so it's a little symbol to that".

"The red is somehow both subtle against your skin and so eye catching as well, I think it's the contrast with this one here", Oscar lightly touched an older tattoo you had next to the new one.

"Then I got this one, which I am quite nervous to show you, actually", you admitted, looking at your right wrist and covering it for the mean time, "I know people are really fussy with having a relationship tattooed on you because things can change so fast, but I don't like to think like that - my tattoos represent times of my life and things that happened - and if anything happens and I can't absolutely tolerate it, I can always remove it", you shrugged your shoulders before uncovering it.

Oscar held your hand and inspected it gently - the thin knot was both black and red, symbolising you and Oscar with the different colours but tied together seamlessly.

"I had to get it on my right one because I wear my watch on the left", you mumbled and a little twinge of nervousness could be spotted in your tone given that he hadn't said anything, "do you like it?", you bit the bullet.

"I love it, it's so beautiful, delicate and feminine too", he smiled, kissing around it.

"I also got a lightning bolt here", you twisted your wrist, "this one is just black and it's quite tiny, but it's about all the times I insisted and persisted - my stubbornness too - and how much I value that in people", you smiled.

"You're stubborn? Never would have guessed it", your boyfriend teased, earning your giggles and an eyeroll from you, "the line is so beautiful, she did an amazing job!", he complimented.

"I also got my first neck tattoo", you mumbled, "well, it's the first time I do it there, not sure if that means I'll do another because it hurt a bit more than I expected", you blushed, letting Oscar pull your hair back so he could see it.

The red inked word was aligned with your ear, "I chose the word rare because it's a devotion to myself, my self-love - accepting that I'm not perfect and that that is okay - I love myself the way I am and it's also a lot thanks to you", you tried to keep the tears pooling on your eyes from falling, "you loved me for me, all of me, no matter how many times people liked to point out any of my tattoos or how I don't fit the 'wag role', and I want a reminder of it everyday", you smiled.

Oscar cupped your jaw gently, careful of the sore area as he kissed your lips in a hard, long, searing kiss, joining your foreheads afterwards, "I love you, Y/N, all of you", he whispered.

(Thank you for sending this in ✨️)

#oscar piastri blurb #inês writes blurbs #f1 blurb #f1 x reader

80 notes · View notes

kodydrs · 10 months

Text

don’t stay at my house - j. kirstein

a/n : i need him in a way that’s terrible for feminism. I’ve been in love with this man since day freaking 1 and i think if i search hard enough there’ll be fanfics i wrote abt him when i was 15 (they will not be getting posted). but anywhos. why not send in a request, or ask?!

warnings: jean x fem!reader, jean x marco!sister!reader, fxm, smut (mdni), friends with benefits, brothers best friend type fwb, p in v, unprotected sex (wrap it before u tap it), titplay (not really), mostly fully clothed, not proofread (it’s never proofread), I’m bad at tagging still

ib: this one fanart i saw on pinterest

request: yes / no

rule number 1: no feelings. it’s called off straight away if either of us catch feelings

rule number 2 : don’t tell anyone

rule number 3 : all things must be discussed previously before trying

rule number 4 : consent is key

rule number 5 : MARCO CANNOT FIND OUT

It’d been a boring day. You had no classes, and you’d done as much study as your brain would let you. You probably could’ve invited Sasha or Mikasa over, but they both had partners to hang out with, as well as other stuff.

You were single. There was no real reason why. There were boys & girls that’d happily go out with you if you gave them the chance, but dating just didn’t appeal to you that much. Not when there were so many strings attached. But that doesn’t mean you were a slut. You didn’t jump from person to person’s bed or anything. You were happy with your situation.

‘Hey.’

‘Oh. I didn’t realise you were over.’

Jean stood at your door, arms folded and leaning against the frame. He chuckled lightly, walking into your room and sitting on the edge of your bed.

‘I’ve been here almost all day. Marco just went into town to grab stuff so the house is empty. How are you feeling?’

‘I’m fine, thank you. How about you? I haven’t seen you in over a week.’

‘I’ve been great.’ He says, pushing his hair back. ‘But I was kinda wondering if… um… I wanted to see your smile.’

He grinned widely, and the flicker from your eyes to your lips didn’t go unnoticed. You leaned forwards, closing the gap between you slightly.

‘You’re allowed to kiss me, Kirstein.’ You whispered, smiling at his unsubtlety. His grin growing, he brought his hand to your cheek, caressing it lightly before brushing his lips against yours in a sweet, gentle kiss.

‘I love your smile. You know that?’ He pulled back slightly, his hand moving down to gently squeeze your thigh beneath your blanket.

‘I know.’ You reply, moving your hand to hold his jaw before smoothing along the bone. His eyes closed, melting into the soft touch of your fingers on his skin.

He leaned in again, and this time their kiss deepened, his other hand moving up to grip your waist, pulling your bodies closer.

‘Jean…’ You breathed, bringing your hands to his chest. Their placement made me groan softly, heart racing.

‘Yeah?’

‘We can’t right now. Marco could get home any minute.’ You pulled back, pressing your foreheads together to maintain proximity. He muttered a quiet ‘damn it’, aware that you were right. He sighed and took a deep breath, trying to calm his body down.

‘I know this isn’t the best place or time, but I can’t stop thinking about you.’

You could only give a sympathetic smile to his words. You took his hand and rubbed your thumb along his palm.

‘You’ll have to stop it then. You remember the rules. No feelings.’

‘Yeah. Yeah. Got it. “no feelings involved”.’ He said, holding your hand. ‘But you don’t know how hard that is when it's you I could be with. Like, I keep catching myself thinking about things we could do together. It drives me nuts.’

You listened to him, but the inside of your mouth was being abused by your teeth, distracted by his words.

He leaned in to kiss you once again, but this time, your hand came between your mouths, pushing his face away.

‘Look. Jean. I do really like you, ok. But Marco and… if he found out, then that’s the end of it. You won’t be invited over anymore.’

There was a look of hurt in his eyes when you met them. His hands wrapped carefully around your wrist, pulling your hand away.

‘Please say you aren’t pushing me away right now.’ You couldn’t keep looking at his eyes, so they diverted to your wall, holding your breath like you were about to cry.

After a few moments, Jean’s grip on your wrist loosened and you felt the bed adjust as he stood.

‘Yeah. You’re right. We can’t do this.’ You wanted to look at him. You wanted to pour your heart out to him and get him to stay, but the thought of his friendship with your brother being destroyed seemed to keep you quiet.

‘You… You should probably go back to Marco’s room. Pretend the house is actually empty.’

‘Yeah. I should.’ He hesitated for a moment, but he gave you a small smile before he left, closing the door gently. As soon as his footsteps faded, you burst into tears, clutching your shirt to cover your mouth.

Jean left your room hurriedly, face flushed and heart racing from the feelings he’d just tried to suppress.

‘Shit.’ He sat down on the stairs, putting his face in his hands as he took deep breaths. ‘Fucking shit.’

It’d been a few months since the “incident” if you’d even call it an incident at all. You hadn’t seen each other since, and you had no clue if it was because he hadn’t come over, or because you barely left your room. But it didn’t matter to you at all. You had exams to focus on.

‘Hey Marco. Do you have any spare batte-‘ You opened your brothers door, only stopping when you saw he had company. ‘-ries.’

Jean looked up from where he lay on Marco’s bed, face flushed and burying his head down as if it’d hide the fact you’d already seen him. Marco went unphased, opening his drawer to rummage through.

‘What type do you need?’

‘Do you have like, 2 9v ones? Preferably lithium but not too phased.’

He found the first one pretty quickly, but it felt like a mission finding another one. After about 3 minutes, you both gave up and closed the drawer.

‘I’ll pick some up later when I go into town. Do you need anything else?’

‘No. I should be right. Take him with you when you leave.’ You nodded towards Jean. Jean who still had his face hidden. Marco gave you a look, but you just closed the door. You froze outside for a minute, letting out a deep sigh before you went back to your room.

You’d told Marco about what happened. Told him everything from the first hook up to the “break up”. He was a little weirded out at first, but he didn’t seem to care otherwise.

A few hours had passed when you heard the rustle of shoes before a soft knock on your door, followed by your brother's head poking in.

‘I’m going now. Don’t die while I’m gone.’

‘Take Jean with you.’ Marco opened the door fully, folding his arms across his chest.

‘You haven’t been phased by being alone in the house for the past month, so why now that you know he’s here?’

‘Because I know he’s here.’ You emphasised each word, trying to prove your point. ‘It’s like when there’s a serial killer in your house. You aren’t phased until you know they’re there.’

‘That’s a bit dramatic, don’t you think?’ A deadpan reaction was the only reaction he was getting out of you. ‘Whatever. Just don’t burn the house down.’

‘Thank you.’

Like any brother, he didn’t close your door properly, but you heard the front door close, followed by his car leaving and that was enough reassurance that you were alone in an empty house.

You only worked for another 30 minutes before dehydration set in. Usually you had your drink bottle on your desk or in your bag, but today seemed to be an exception because you couldn’t find it at all. So you stood, pushing your chair back and walked to the kitchen.

Like you wanted, the house was empty and quiet. It was always like that considering it was only you and Marco that lived there.

The house was big enough to fit more people, but living alone just out of the city meant it was mostly silent, mind the few cars that drove past into work or to one of the neighbouring houses. But it also meant that if you needed to, you could catch a bus to your classes.

You were reaching for a glass when you heard footsteps on the lino. It made you flinch, nearly dropping the glass when you saw Jean trying to escape quietly.

‘Why are you still here?!’

He froze, stepping back like he’d been caught doing something he wasn’t meant to. Not that he wasn’t meant to be in your house. Just not at that exact moment.

‘Look. I didn’t even know you were here until you came into Marco’s room. I thought you had classes today.’

‘Is that your excuse?’ You asked. Your tone showed how pissed off you were if your expression didn’t. You left the glass on the counter, suddenly well hydrated before storming out of the kitchen.

‘Wait. Please.’ You felt hands grab around your wrist, stopping you in your tracks. ‘Just… let me talk. Please.’

You maintained your frown, making it obvious you didn’t wanna hear what he had to say, but you were more respectful than that, so you stopped pulling against him.

He released a sigh and let go of your wrist.

‘Alright. Can I start off by saying I’m sorry? I should’ve checked you weren’t here before I came. That part is fair for you to be mad about.’ You stood, arms folded and leaning against the counter as the brunette continued. ‘And I want to apologise for how things turned out back then. I still really fucked up, and I’m not denying that any of it was wrong, because I pushed you and I shouldn’t have. You didn’t deserve any of that.’ You watched as he ran a hand through his hair, an action you noted hasn’t changed in your time apart. But you couldn’t meet his eyes, so they looked down at the floor, the same way you looked away when you last spoke. He sighed again, moving closer to you so his hand gently brushed against your arms.

‘Look. I know I’m not the best, and you probably have plenty of other options that you could go to, but… I still really like you. A lot. And I’ve done everything I can to try move on-‘

‘Jean.’ You interrupted sternly. It’s not like how you used to say it. You used to breath his name with so much love that it drove you both crazy. There was no love in the way you said it now. ‘Stop.’

‘Stop what? Talking to you? Even if I did, I wouldn’t stop thinking about you.’

‘Just stop it!’ There was anger boiling in your voice, but he seemed so clouded that he couldn’t see it.

‘Why? Why do you hate me so?’

‘Because if I don’t hate you, then I’m going to fall in love with you again!’ Tears brimmed your eyes as you finally confessed.

Jean’s heart skipped a beat. He moved closer, placing a hand on your chin and gently raising it until your eyes met.

‘That can’t happen.’ He said, his voice barely above a whisper.

‘Don’t you dare say that. Because I’ve been trying not to for months.’ You’re looking up at him, leaning against his hand. Reaching down, he cupped your face, his thumb gently stroking your cheek.

‘I’ll fight it with everything I have in me but…’ He trailed off, leaning in so his lips barely brushed against yours.

‘But..?’

‘But I can’t promise I’ll win.’

He kissed you slowly, his hands sliding off your face and down your back, pulling you closer. The kiss only deepened as emotions ran high between the 2 of you.

You kissed him like a starved man, quick to get your hands beneath his shirt to feel the dip

Jean moaned against your lips, hands following suit as they slid along your thighs, gripping your hips tightly.

‘God. I’ve wanted this everyday since I last saw you.’ He whispered before pulling away slightly, looking into your eyes. You were quick to pull him back in, whispering against his lips.

‘Then don’t stop.’

He was hesitant for a moment before leaning down to once again taste your lips. He grabbed you around the waist, wrapping his arms around you as your legs wrapped around him.

‘I love you.’

You paused for a minute, almost like you were scared of the words, before you pulled away and kissed his jaw up to his ear.

‘Show me then.’

With a smile, Jean hoisted you atop the counter, positioning himself between your legs while he attacked your neck. A soft whimper came from your mouth, and your fingers tangled with the hair at his nape.

‘You like that?’ He nipped at your neck again, hips grinding languidly against yours. You grinded against him, making you both breath deep as his hands pressed you against the counter. ‘You haven’t changed.’

You grinned, pulling his chin up to look at you.

‘Will you fuck me on the kitchen counter?’

‘You’re a hot mess, aren’t you?’ He chuckled, his judgement clouded by lust and desire. You shurgged.

‘It wouldn’t be the first time.’

‘You’re so slutty.’ He teased and pecked your lips, but still started to undo his belt. Your grin widened, and you took his free hand, trailing it up your torso to massage your tit through the fabric of your shirt.

His breath hitched, and his fingers searched for your hardened nipple as he pulled his erection free of its restrictions. Seeing his throbbing cock, you slid your shorts and underwear to your ankles, revealing yourself to the man.

‘Fuck. You’re gorgeous.’ He stepped closer, swiping his tip through your wet folds and groaning as he sank into you.

Head thrown back, you gripped his hand that was on your breast, while your other held his nape, keeping you upright.

‘Holy shit-‘

‘That’s right, baby. Just like that. Take it all.’ He started with moving slowly, dragging himself along your walls with a string of soft grunts. But as he felt you relax around him, he picked up speed, skin slapping together in rhythm.

Damn did you miss this. Both of you missed it. Missed the way he’d tease you by changing pace, but just not enough teasing to annoy you. Missed the way you had to keep a hand over your mouth so the neighbours couldn’t hear you being fucked by your brothers best friend.

Jean leaned down, capturing your lips in a heated kiss, his thrusts growing deeper and more intense as he felt you clench around him tightly.

‘Jean.’ You whimpered, interlacing your fingers.

‘I know, baby.’ He bit your bottom lip, feeling the pleasure coursing through you both. He could tell by the way your body was reacting that you were close, and he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t either, noticeable by his movements becoming more desperate.

You did your best to grind your hips to his timing, making you both groan. Eyes rolled at the overwhelming sensation, unable to hold back any longer.

‘Fuck. I’m gonna cum.’

‘You can cum inside.’ You panted, pulling his lips back to yours. With a few final thrusts, he groaned as he released his seed deep inside you, feeling your wall clench around him in the most perfect way. You came hard at the same time, trembling against him as the aftermath washed over you both.

‘Fuck, baby…’ Leaning heavily forwards and stabilising himself on the counter, he pressed gentle kisses along your neck and collarbone. Your hand on the back of his neck found its way to his hair, running your fingers through the strands.

‘T-That was good.’

He sighed, an unmatched sense of comfort in your presence. Arm wrapped around you, he pulled back to look in your eyes.

‘God. I want you.’ His face was flushed, like he was embarrassed to admit it. You smiled, brushing his hair out of his face.

‘Then you can have me.’ His heart races at your words. searching your eyes like they would tell him how serious you were being. You just grin, pulling him back down for another kiss. Another kiss, just as the front door opens.

‘Shit.’

all rights and reserves are copyright to kodydrs on tumblr. this material is not to be copied or translated.

301 notes · View notes

lucky-clover-gazette · 3 months

Text

kings rising highlights & annotations

chapter 4

indented text is from the book. some quotes have commentary, some do not. some comments are serious, and some are definitely not. most of them will only make sense to people who have read the series. and, like, there are spoilers. so please read the books first if you're interested!

also: part of the reason i'm doing such a close reading is to study cs pacat's style, especially in terms of how she does romance and erotica. there are "craft notes" that might seem weird, like i'm being redundant or restating something rather than analyzing, but those are more things that i want to remember/take away from the writing!

i'm going to tag these longer posts with "sam reads capri" in case anyone wants to read them all at once.

this is a google doc i wrote with overall content warnings for the captive prince series. it's not perfect, but i do think it's important to include.

‘Does it bother you to think of him hurting your country?’ ‘You know it does. Are we playing now with the fate of nations? It won’t bring your brother back.’ There was a violent silence.

the girls are fightinggggg (love damen calling laurent on his misdirected bullshit)

‘You know, my uncle knew who you were,’ said Laurent. ‘He spent this whole time waiting for us to fuck. He wanted to tell me who you were himself, and watch it wreck me. Oh, had you guessed that? You just thought you’d fuck me anyway? Couldn’t help yourself?’

i’m sure it’s easier for laurent to entertain the notion that nothing damen did was real at all, and doing so also hurts damen, so two birds one stone

‘You said, “Kiss me”,’ said Laurent, each word enunciated clearly. ‘You said, “Laurent, I need to be inside you, you feel so good, Laurent,”’ He switched to Akielon, as Damen had, at the climax, ‘‘it’s never felt like this, I can’t hold on, I’m going to—’’

i did my complex analysis of laurent’s mean girl era last chapter. this is a good example of him just being a petty bitch for the reasons outlined in that analysis

‘Charcy,’ said Laurent, ‘was a distraction. I have it from Guion. My uncle sailed for Ios three days ago, and by now he has made landfall.’

and it worked, and laurent was too emotionally compromised to anticipate or prevent it. imagine laurent learning that, directly after being tortured. and now he’s dealing with this. Ls on Ls on Ls.

(or did he know? stuff he says later makes me think he might have, but then again, he also lies to damen a LOT in this scene)

‘I see. And my men are to die fighting him for you, the way that they did at Charcy?’

i mean the previous chapter already established that they both know laurent meant to be there, but if they’re doing cheap shots, i guess this works fine in a pinch

Laurent’s smile was not pleasant. ‘On that table is a list of supplies and troops. I will give it to you, in support of your campaign to the south.’ ‘In exchange for,’ said Damen, steadily. ‘Delpha,’ said Laurent in the same tone. He felt the shock that made him remember that this was Laurent, and not any other young man of twenty.

He had not come here prepared to negotiate. Laurent had. Laurent was here as the Prince of Vere facing the King of Akielos. Laurent had known who he was all along. The list, written in Laurent’s own hand, had been prepared before this meeting.

all true, but don’t underestimate the fact that laurent did NOT anticipate falling in love or actually trusting you as an ally

He said, ‘Did you plan this from the beginning?’

so "from the beginning" is complicated here. if i'm going to try to sort things out to the best of my ability, i think a good place to start is making a list of things laurent could NOT have expected at the beginning of the series, when he was presented with damen:

that damen would not immediately take any opportunity provided to him to escape captivity

that damen is a respectable and admirable person and invaluable strategic and military asset

that damen and laurent would fall in love (and even still now, i don't think laurent is letting himself believe damen really cares, and certainly isn't letting damen do the caring)

that the regent would try to assassinate his own nephew. laurent says in the text, at some point, that this was a genuine surprise, and that he didn't think his uncle would ever go that far

but, okay, even if laurent didn't expect the assassination attempt, or any of the other minor things in vere like the patras debacle, did he expect at some point to find himself and his men forced to do a military campaign? he must have, which is why he started the correspondence with delpha. i suppose he could have planned to do that from vere, too, and just adjusted things when he was forced to travel. and nothing that laurent failed to expect directly got in the way of the foundation of his plan, if his objective was to obtain delpha and make enough allies that together they can take down the regent.

so to answer damen's question, yes! laurent planned this specific long-term objective (taking delpha, getting kastor and the regent in ios, methodically turning a faction of powerful akielions against kastor and gaining the support of vask and patras) from the beginning. because he recognized damen the moment he saw him, laurent could immediately put together that kastor is allied with the regent, who would totally come up with something like this to torture laurent. and so laurent put his mental energy into planning a way to gain enough political and military power to defeat both kastor and the regent, and further manipulate them into being so confident that they would have no time to retaliate when the people laurent enlisted attacked them. i don't think laurent gave a shit if kastor lived or died, or stayed on the throne, as long as the regent was defeated, but it made sense for kastor to be a priority as well since the alliance between kastor and the regent makes the regent more powerful.

and, to be generous to laurent, none of this really has anything to do with damen. like none of it is designed to punish him, it doesn't even really involve him. it's another instance of laurent just living in a different genre from the start. damen's pov has been so fixed on his relationship and interactions with laurent, but there's been so much more happening that we just haven't seen. and laurent, i think we can assume, is and has always been deeply focused on things other than their relationship.

but even now, this plan doesn't do damen direct harm. the most harm it does is make things awkward with nikandros, and make damen feel bad about the regent being in his own country (which was probably going to happen anyway). but still, damen is super pissed. he doesn't realize or admit it, but i almost think the fact that laurent always had this plan makes him a little insecure. like, to realize that he hasn't been as important or useful to laurent as he previously assumed. on top of all the other stuff pissing him off about the situation, he's also jealous of an abstract plan, because it's had laurent's attention from the start, and right now laurent is choosing that plan over their friendship/relationship. a kingdom, or this.

laurent doesn't want to deal with "this," and honestly has some pretty pressing matters beyond "this" to handle, so he's chosen "a kingdom." even if damen's heart is still stuck with "this," he'll have to follow laurent's lead and focus on "a kingdom" too. i'm sure they'll both do a perfectly professional and functional job of this, and it won't make things inconvenient or uncomfortable for any of their allies at all.

‘The hard part was getting Guion to let me into his fort.’ Laurent said it steadily, the private edge to his voice a little more private than usual.

do they ever talk about it? like does laurent ever tell damen what happened in the cell?

also i like how damen doesn’t take this as like flippant and arrogant, as he would have in book 1. he immediately clocks that laurent is hiding something and just deflecting.

Damen said, ‘In the palace you had me beaten, drugged, whipped. And you ask me to give up Delpha? Why don’t you tell me instead why I shouldn’t simply hand you over to your uncle, in exchange for his aid against Kastor?’

like you ever would.

‘Because I knew who you were,’ said Laurent, ‘and when you killed Touars and humiliated my uncle’s faction, I sent the news of it echoing to every corner of my country. So that if you ever crawled back onto your throne there would be no possibility of an alliance between you and my uncle.

good failsafe, laurent didn’t know he wouldn’t need it. although i’m sure it’s both vindicating and hurting laurent to hear damen threaten this, making the failsafe necessary, even if we know that damen’s heart isn’t in it.

'Do you want to play this game against me? I will take you apart.’

this is all very complicated and unnecessary and frustrating to damen, but it's laurent's area of expertise. this kind of emotionally evasive manipulative political negotiation makes him feel empowered. the approach laurent takes in this scene is almost certainly a way for him to cope with the things in his life that feel uncontrollable and uncomfortable, by doing something familiar that he knows he can control.

‘Take me apart?’ Damen said deliberately. ‘If I opposed you, the remaining scrap of land you hold would have a different enemy on each side, and your efforts would be split in three directions.’ ‘Believe me,’ said Laurent, ‘when I say that you would have my undivided attention.’

this is soooo amy dunne of him

Damen let his eyes pass over Laurent slowly, where he stood. ‘You’re alone. You don’t have allies. You don’t have friends. You’ve proven true everything your uncle ever said about you. You made deals with Akielos. You even bedded an Akielon—and by now, everyone knows it. You’re clinging to independence with a single fort and the tatters of a reputation.’ He gave every word its weight. ‘So let me tell you the terms of this alliance. You will give me everything on this list, and in return I will aid you against your uncle. Delpha remains with Akielos. Let’s not pretend you have anything here worth a bargain.’

damen honey i’m so sorry but you cannot win this one. especially when you yourself would probably lay down your life on instinct for laurent if someone randomly came into this tent and tried to kill him

‘Please,’ said Laurent, ‘insult me further. Tell me more about my tattered reputation. Tell me all the ways that bending over for you has damaged my position. As if being fucked into the mattress by the King of Akielos could be anything other than demeaning. I am dying to hear it.’

and somehow laurent still manages to turn even his own shitty decisions back on damen, implying that even if laurent owned up to being fucked by damen, it couldn’t be anything other than demeaning, and damen is a fool for considering it to be genuine lovemaking

‘Did you think,’ said Laurent, ‘that I would come here without the means to enforce my terms? I hold the only proof of Kastor’s treachery that extends beyond your word.’ ‘My word is enough to the men that matter.’ ‘Is it? Then by all means, reject my offer. I will execute Guion for treason and hold the letter over the nearest candle.’

cunt (affectionate)

‘Are we going to play another kind of pretend?’ Damen said. ‘That it never happened?’

and in this game of pretend, damen doesn’t get to hand-feed a pretty blonde named laurent >:(

‘If you are concerned it will go unmentioned between us, never fear. Every man in my camp knows that you served me in bed.’

“you served me” GOD laurent you are such a bitch

And that is how it is to be between us?’ said Damen. ‘Mercenary? Cold?’

if laurent was normal, there are plenty of reassuring things he could tell damen to explain that they can do this together, and ios will be okay, and they're in a good position to win as a team. but since he's being a salty little bitch, he's not going to do any of that, and he's going to make damen feel extra bad by using their romantic history against him. and despite all of these slights against him, damen knows that he has no choice but to give laurent delpha and ally himself with laurent's cause. because laurent really has planned this from the beginning. sure, current damen probably still would have done all that if laurent had just asked, but book 1 laurent had no idea of anticipating their allyship, and book 3 laurent is intentionally trying to push him away.

‘How did you think it would be?’ said Laurent. ‘You’d take me to your bed for the public consummation?’ It hurt.

this is a brutal scene for damen, even if i understand laurent’s headspace. i’m sorry buddy, breakups are no fun.

actually, do you think damen has ever experienced a breakup? he’s a prince who grew up with a harem of sex slaves. jokaste just kind of did whatever she wanted and damen was chill with it. so probably not.

It was too neat. He hadn’t thought as far as Kastor’s defeat, or who would become kyros in Ios, the traditional seat of the King’s closest adviser. Nikandros was the ideal candidate.

not laurent doing damen’s job for him…

‘I see you’ve thought of everything,’ said Damen, bitterly. ‘It didn’t have to be—you could have come to me, and asked for my help, I would have—’ ‘Killed the rest of my family?’

i mean, laurent definitely wants the regent dead. i think this is just a dig about auguste, and furthermore about damen not telling laurent the truth at any point.

also, damen straight-up admitting that he would have helped damen is something laurent would have needed a gun to his head to say out loud, and there aren’t even guns in this world. i said this in a note last chapter, but laurent assumes that damen is just as terrified of attachment and vulnerability as he (laurent) is, but we see that damen is willing to swear attachment and make himself vulnerable in order to support laurent and build trust. laurent is just denying that aspect of damen, because he’s traumatized and stubborn and doesn’t want to be let down.

Thickly, Damen remembered running his sword through the man he’d believed was the Regent; as if killing the Regent would be his expiation. It wouldn’t.

that explains why damen acted how he did in battle. but he also knows, in the reality of this moment, that it wouldn’t have made up for auguste even if he had killed the regent. killing a member of laurent’s family isn’t going to make up for the fact that he killed a member of his family.

He thought of all Laurent had done here, every piece of impersonal leverage, to control this meeting, to ensure it played out on his terms. ‘Congratulations,’ said Damen. ‘You’ve forced my hand. You have what you want. Delpha, in exchange for your aid in the south. Nothing given freely, nothing done out of feeling, everything coerced, with bloodless planning.’

this is almost laurentian, in terms of dialogue. very poetic and theatrical. damen is not handling this breakup well, and it’s almost like he’s defensively taking on some of laurent’s overdramatic bitchiness. it’s a reaction from him we haven’t really seen since book 1.

this dialogue also feels slightly anachronistic, in a good way. with some minor editing it could be a believable text that modern au damen would send after laurent breaks up with him in a formal email even though they still have to work on an assignment together. i think it's the "nothing given freely, nothing done out of feeling, everything coerced, with bloodless planning" that really gives off the vibe of an emotionally compromised teenager trying to cope with the fact that they still have to see their ex in english class.

‘Good,’ said Laurent. He took a step back. Then, as if a pillar of control had finally collapsed, Laurent surrendered his full weight to the table behind him, his face drained of all colour. He was trembling, his hairline pricked with the sweat of injury. He said: ‘Now get out.’

laurent: i won. get out. also laurent:

Laurent had known who he was, and had still made love to him. He wondered what mix of yearning and self-delusion had allowed Laurent to do that.

may i interest you in the “sam reads capri” tag on my tumblr blog, damen?

also i just think “he wondered what mix of yearning and self-delusion has allowed laurent to do that” is a BANGER line. maybe one of my favorites in the series. astute, bewildered, devastating (sad), and devastating (scathing) all at once.

If he’d imagined it, it was as a single, cataclysmic event, an unmasking that, whatever followed, would be over. Violence would have been both punishment and release. He had never imagined that it would instead go on and on; that the truth had been known; that it had been painfully absorbed; that it would be this crushing pressure that wouldn’t leave his chest.

damen always thought that he would be the one to rip off the bandaid for them both, so the entire time he has been saving them the pain by waiting. but now he knows that laurent never had a bandaid, and he (damen) has been left to slowly and painfully pry off his own. the pain isn’t over, it’s just beginning. and laurent has felt it this entire time, in a way damen put off for himself.

Laurent had tamped down the smothered emotion in his eyes, and would endure an alliance with his brother’s killer, though he felt nothing but aversion. If he could do it, Damen could do it. He could make impersonal negotiations, speak in the formal language of kings.

(also wow do i want to tell damen that laurent isn’t averse to him, he’s just lashing out, and badly needs someone to show him love and support at this time. but as always, oh fuck, he can’t hear me. and to be fair, it isn’t really in-character for damen to just passively accept poor treatment, or to force laurent to accept his support when he’s been told to go away.)

The ache of loss didn’t make sense, because Laurent had never been his. He had known that. The delicate thing that had grown between them had never had a right to exist.

and yet it did exist, and it does exist, and it will exist, and that’s why we’re reading about it.

damen and laurent both feel like they have a right to their kingdom’s thrones as princes, but they don’t have the right to simply be people in love. again, a kingdom or this. the themes are theming.

If it hurt, it was fitting; it was simply kingship.

what did i just say??? THE THEMES ARE THEMING!!!

If he could give Laurent up, he could do this.

stoppp can someone get him a pint of ice cream and an olivia rodrigo album (should i make lamen divorce era playlists. like one for each of them.)

Damen remembered hoping for a homecoming where it could be between them as it was in the old days. As if friendship of that kind could survive statesmanship.

damen’s being soooo broody about the ways kingship nerfs his social and romantic life, omg. it’s a hint of his immaturity and relative youth to other people in power, and his difference in jadedness and trauma compared to laurent. he is still lowkey a frat guy who wants to party, even though he cares about his schoolwork and future prospects

‘He’s playing us against each other,’ said Nikandros. ‘This is calculated. He is trying to weaken you.’ Damen said, ‘I know. It’s like him.’

"yes, honey..."

nikandros private twitter venting moment #4. especially considering damen’s response

‘He left us at Charcy.’ ‘There was a reason for that.’ ‘But I am not to know it.’

damen doesn’t really know the reason, but he can assure nik, there was a reason. nikandros private twitter venting moment #5.

It was not worth Delpha. He could see that Nikandros knew it, as Damen had known it. ‘I would make this easier,’ said Damen, ‘if I could.’ Silence, while Nikandros kept his words in check.

nikandros private twitter moment #6. this time he just posts a blurry picture of laurent’s offer and captions it with “🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬”

‘The men will talk,’ said Nikandros. He was pushing the words out with distaste, he did not want to say, ‘About—’ Damen said, ‘No.’ And then, as though Nikandros couldn’t help the words that came out next, ‘If you would at least take off the cuff—’ ‘No. It stays.’ He refused to lower his eyes.

kind of curious why, in this moment, damen is so determined about this. he’s had reasons in the past, but it would be cool to get some current insight, if it’s not just an instinctual thing

Nikandros turned away and put his palms flat on the table, resting his weight there. Damen could see the resistance in Nikandros’s shoulders, bunched across his back, his palms still flat on the table.

nikandros private twitter moment #7. he just posts this meme with no further elaboration:

Into the painful silence, Damen said, ‘And you? Will I lose you?’ It was all he allowed himself. It came out in a steady enough voice, and he made himself wait, and say nothing more.

AWWW poor baby :( no like fr damen :(((( it’s going to be okay

As though the words were coming up from the depths of him, against his will, Nikandros said, ‘I want Ios.’ Damen let out a breath. Laurent, he realised suddenly, wasn’t playing them against one another. He was playing to Nikandros. There was a dangerous expertise in all of this; in knowing how far Nikandros’s loyalty might be stretched, and what would keep it from snapping. Laurent’s presence in the room was almost tangible.

i think this was more an unintended outcome of the plan, but i’m sure mean girl era laurent would be pleased to know that his actions inadvertently incentivized damen’s best friend to declare himself loyal to his ex (laurent) instead

‘Listen to me, Damianos. If you have ever valued my counsel, listen. He is not on our side. He is Veretian, and he’ll be bringing an army into our country.’ ‘To fight his uncle. Not to fight us.’ ‘If someone kills your family you don’t rest until they are dead.’

i know this is nikandros trying to convince damen that laurent isn’t just going to let go of what damen did to auguste, and can’t be trusted as an ally. but it also makes nikandros accidentally sound like a book 1 laurent apologist, by making the statement with “you” as if it’s a universal maxim. like, if nik was in laurent’s shoes, he would have wanted damen tortured and dead too. nik is an interesting guy, because he's a little more aggressive with his principles unprovoked than damen, but he’s also similarly limited in perspective due to his status and lack of humbling experiences. i’ll try to do more complex analysis in addition to memeing on him, if/when opportunities arise

Nikandros was shaking his head. ‘Or do you really think he’s forgiven you for killing his brother?’ ‘No. He hates me for it.’ He said it steadily, without flinching. ‘But he hates his uncle more. He needs us. And we need him.’

damen going full ant with a bindle :(((

‘You need him enough that you would strip me of my home, because he asked you to?’ ‘Yes,’ said Damen.

nik private twitter vent #8. this time he literally just tweets a single “.”

The men came to attention as he passed, and said only, ‘Exalted,’ if he spoke. It was not like sitting around a campfire swilling wine, exchanging low tales and ribald speculations.

he should be at the club

Jord and the other Veretians from Ravenel had been sent back to Laurent to rejoin his army in the extravagant tents at Fortaine.

jord and the others standing awkwardly nearby laurent’s tent, trying to ignore the muffled adele ballad playing within

Alone, he didn’t have to be King.

i can’t believe that damen, groomed from birth for eventual kingship, now resents that kingship almost exclusively because it means he can’t be boyfriends with laurent. blonde man brainrot

He wasn’t alone. She was naked, at the base of the stark pallet, her full breasts hanging downwards, her forehead to the floor. She didn’t have palace training, and so could not quite disguise the fact that she was nervous. Her fair hair was caught back from her face in a fragile clasp, a northern custom. She was perhaps nineteen or twenty, her body trained and ready for him. She had prepared a bath in an unadorned wooden tub, so that if he pleased he might make use of it; or of her.

the way this is written, especially in the context of the series so far, makes this hard to read as anything other than revolting. i think this is due to a few craft elements:

the clinical description, lacking sensuality entirely

damen relating the things he’s observing to the aspects of the institution that he understands (she wasn’t trained in the palace = slaves are trained to do this. she was placed here for him to use = she didn’t show up here because she wanted to be here, or even knew him at all, or wanted pleasure of her own). unlike his past self, who passively understood the institution but chose not to think too hard about what it implied, the mental connections damen has made through being a slave himself prevent him from regarding this slave with the same thoughtlessness

damen's observations portray the anxiety and vulnerability of the slave, rather than willingness or submission. in book 1 we have a lot of moments where damen thinks of slaves as lovely, sweet, aimless non-people, almost like they're lobotomized. he regards them in a way that's both condescending and unconcerned for their free will, because they don't want or need free will, because they're slaves. his issue with the mistreatment of the akielion slaves in vere wasn't with their enslavement itself; it was with the cruelty of their masters, non-slaves who have free will and therefore should use it honorably. at the time, he truly believed that, as long as a master is kind, a slave has no reason to feel anxious or vulnerable or afraid, because there is honor in a slave's submission. if book 1 damen noticed that a slave was nervous, he would have found it adorable and charming, and would have taken it as an invitation to prove himself a caring master. but that doesn't even cross his mind here, while noticing this slave's nervousness in book 3.

another interesting craft detail: a sort of parallelism in the last part. damen notices that the bath, an object, has been prepared for him—just as the slave, a person, has been prepared for him. he groups them together, in that their same designated function is to be used: "he could make use of it; or of her." and that's where he stops the description altogether, because i don't think he feels comfortable with what that similarity between person and object implies.

it's easy to simply tell a reader that a character has evolved. if this story was written by a different author, there might have just been a moment where damen said out loud, "actually i've realized that slavery is bad," while the topic was otherwise avoided beyond its relevance to the story.

it's much harder to show, consistently throughout the story, exactly how that evolution has occurred, and the difference in damen's perspective compared to how he'd thought about slavery at the start. well done, pacat.

He had known that there were slaves with Nikandros’s army, following behind with the carts and the supplies. He had known that when he returned to Akielos there would be slaves.

… but seeing it in person is still viscerally uncomfortable

‘Get up,’ he heard himself say, awkwardly, a wrong order for a slave. There was a time when he would have expected this, and known how to behave around it. He would have appreciated the charm of her rustic northern skills, and bedded her, if not tonight then certainly in the morning. Nikandros knew him, and she was his type. She was Nikandros’s best, that was evident; a slave from his personal retinue, perhaps even his favourite, because Damen was his guest and his King. She got up. He didn’t speak. She had a collar around her neck, and metal cuffs around her small wrists that were like the one that he— ‘Exalted,’ she said, quietly. ‘What is wrong?’ He let out a strange, unsteady breath. He realised that his breathing had been unsteady for some time, that his flesh was unsteady. That the silence had been stretching out between them too long. ‘No slaves,’ said Damen. ‘Tell the Keeper. Send no one else. For the length of the campaign I will be dressed by an adjutant, or a squire.’

see my previous comment. this is really well-done, especially the panic attack-esque reaction and ptsd trigger. i made a comment a WHILE ago about the way both damen and laurent have ptsd in this series, but it manifests differently due to their proximity to their own traumas. laurent’s trauma was prolonged but a few years in the past; he’s had a lot of time to learn how to cope with it since. but damen’s trauma began when the story began, and it’s been intense and unrelenting basically the whole time: his father’s death, kastor and jokaste’s betrayal, his enslavement, his time in arles, his loss of identity by laurent’s side, and his forced return to his royal identity and obligations. that’s a lot of shit to unpack, and most of it is still happening. it's raw, and damen has had no time to process. nor has he received comfort, or even acknowledgement of what's happened to him as the trauma it is.

"he realised that his breathing had been unsteady for some time." this is a person experiencing a ptsd trigger for what might be the very first time, realizing as it happens just how quickly and thoroughly trauma can disorient his mental, physical, and emotional awareness and self-control. there is the complex intellectual development i discussed in the previous comment re: damen's feelings about slavery, but it's also this visceral gut reaction that tells damen and the reader that things will never be the same.

‘Wait.’ He couldn’t send her naked through the camp. ‘Here,’ he unpinned his cloak, and whirled it around her shoulders. He felt the wrongness of it, pushing against every protocol. ‘The guard will escort you back.’

he felt the wrongness of doing the right thing, but he still did it anyway. i think that is a big moment for damen, especially relating to akielion slavery.

i know i talk a lot about laurent in these notes, because i love laurent very much. but i also love damen, and i’m glad that he is our narrator. his pov is a big reason why these books work, in their chosen genre, at all. and i do think that this genre was a choice—laurent may be living a gritty psychological thriller, but a big theme of the series as a whole is that laurent was sweet in the past, and has the right to a life where he can be sweet again. but laurent, as we meet him at the start of these books, is heartless by choice. damen is many things, but he is never heartless. and whatever genre these books are, i think they're deeply defined by the fact that they're written with heart. they are not cynical, and they are not jaded. that's why damen, and not laurent, is our narrator. laurent's cynicism and jadedness are a foil to damen's idealism and trusting/forgiving nature. while damen does have some things to learn from laurent about strategy and cultural misconceptions, the ethos of the series matches damen's emotional and philosophical outlook far more than laurent's. ultimately, damen's heart helps laurent reclaim his sweetness, and become a better ruler and happier person. damen's heart is also what leads damen himself to reform akielion slavery, unite his kingdom with vere, and step out from his father's shadow. this is, at the end of the day, damen's story. and i don't think it would be the same story, with the same meaning or heart, if it was told by anyone else.

which, regarding meaning—in addition to the individual chapters, i do want to start thinking more about some of the more overarching things going on with capri. so i might as well start now. and if i had to start formulating an overall series thesis at this point in the re-read, i think it would have something to do with the concepts of submission and captivity.

captivity and submission both imply, in our common perception, a coerced and degrading loss of free will. and we certainly see that, in the way damen and laurent have both been held captive and degraded throughout their stories. we also see how, despite being victims themselves, they both have used captivity and submission to coerce and degrade others (laurent coerces and degrades damen to avenge his brother) and deny them free will (damen is complicit in the institution of akielion slavery, which denies slaves free will). for a lot of the series, damen and laurent are in constant disagreement about which of them is morally worse—damen thinks laurent is worse because of the coercion and degradation, laurent thinks damen is worse, and therefore deserves the coercion and degradation, because damen is complicit in akielion slavery and killed his brother. but we as the reader start to realize, as the series goes on, that they're both right about some things, both wrong about other things, both hypocrites on occasion, both doing harm, both trying to help, both captors, and both captives.

from this, it would make sense to assume that captivity and submission are the problem here, and the story's thesis is that those concepts are always dishonorable. however, i don't think that's the point at all. i think capri is about the ways captivity and submission can be honorable, if actively chosen with the moral responsibility, complex thought, and emotional depth of a person with free will. after all, what are loyalty and integrity, if not freely-chosen emotional and intellectual captivity? what are vulnerability and attachment, if not physical and emotional submission freely given?

damen and laurent are both complicated people who do dishonorable things. however, in their own respective arcs and in their shared romantic plotline, they both come to understand the multifaceted nature of captivity and submission, and reclaim those concepts as sources of empowerment, healing, and positive change. it's the difference between damen being forced to submit to laurent as a slave in arles in book 1, and damen choosing to stay by laurent's side in book 2 as a man. it's the difference between laurent submitting to his uncle, being manipulated into vulnerability so he can degraded and abused, and submitting to damen, making himself vulnerable despite his trauma so he can be truly loved and cared for.

this isn't a fully formed thesis yet, but it's good to at least get it cooking. and i'm not trying to guess the author's intention as much as summarize my own succinct interpretation. there isn't, like, One Right Answer here, and i'm not setting out to read the author's mind.

but still, i dunno, man… i think i'm onto something. after all, we have these major arcs about damen realizing slavery is wrong and laurent struggling with submission, and yet both of them proudly choose to keep the cuffs. and in a more metatextual sense, the evolution of this story's genre and purpose (slavekink erotica -> whatever the fuck these books are) is not irrelevant. so i'll keep an eye on it, and hopefully come up with something solid by the end of the re-read. i unironically love the challenge of writing a succinct thesis, which is not the nerdiest thing i've ever said, but it's definitely in the top 5.

#capri #sam reads capri #captive prince #kings rising #lamen #laurent of vere #damen of akielos #this one is very damen-centric yay <3333

47 notes · View notes

jeonqkooks · 1 year

Text

our beloved summer | jjk (06)

You made a vow to hate Jeon Jungkook ever since he packed up and left you without a single explanation, but when he shows up at your door after years of radio silence, it turns out that maybe your resolve isn’t as strong as you thought.

pairing: producer!jungkook x songwriter!reader

genre/warnings: exes au, fluff, angst, eventual smut, swearing, kissing (omg k1ss1ng omg WHO IS IT ??? 😦), tbh this is the only warning i wanted u guys to read cuz 6 chapters in and we finally get sum action i feel like that's a win lmaooooo, jimin being Real as fook, unbeta'd cuz uhm i'm a godless menace who should be conked on the head, once again we are severely lacking jk in his own fic lol i'm owning up to this 🤗 BUT! this is probably the last chapter where jk feels like a side character lol apologies my dudes

rating: PG-13

word count: 8.1k (honestly i wrote obs6 just so i could get to obs7 lmao that's why it's a lil bit shorter)

note: my apologies if this sucks. you are legally allowed to stone me if you hate it. but i hope you don't hate it. but if you do hate it don't tell me just stone me lol 🤐 why am i so unhinged with this update

series masterpost / playlist ; moodboards ; taglist

— as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

I can see you starin', honey Like he's just your understudy Like you'd get your knuckles bloody for me

Exile - Taylor Swift (ft. Bon Iver)

The picture is fucking terrible.

“Jimin, what the fuck,” you grumble, staring at the huge framed photo on the wall, taken on the day of the opening party. You, Taehyung and Jimin are gathered on the floor of the dance studio, with boxes of takeout neatly sitting between the three of you. “I look like ass.”

Jimin barely glances at the wall, just continues to stuff his face with the dumplings that you ordered. “You look fine,” he says absentmindedly, mouth full, continuing to munch on the food despite your little dilemma.

“Bitch, I have my eyes closed.”

“It’s not that bad.”

“I look like I’m in the middle of a sneeze.” You cross your arms in front of your chest, squinting at your photographed self again. The more you look at it, the more irritated you become.

Realistically, you know nobody would pay enough attention to notice the immortalized visual of your fluttering eyes, and you yourself wouldn’t care about it that much. Maybe you would even laugh in good spirits and poke fun at yourself as you often do. Make a meme of it for the group chat.

“What’s the big deal?” Jimin asks.

You shrug petulantly. “I told you. I look like ass.”

Yeah, true, but it’s also more than that.

It’s the fact that the person standing next to you looks so good that you must voice your grievances. It’s the fact that he looks so much more than just good.

The guys stop eating to look at you. You wonder just how much of what you’re feeling is written all over your face. Regardless, they don’t comment on it.

One of them clears his throat, shaking the whole thing off.

“Did you tell Yoongi anything yet?” Jimin asks.

You poke at a lone dumpling with your chopsticks, popping the ‘p’ when you say, “Nope.”

“Damn, Y/N,” Jimin scolds you. “It’s been three weeks. He doesn’t want to push you for an answer but the man has got to be suffering.”

You flick a piece of spring onion garnish at him. It lands on his hair, a single bit of green sitting among golden locks. “I don’t know what to tell him!”

“What do you mean you don’t know?” Jimin shakes the onion piece from his head and chucks it back at you. “Obviously you say yes!”

You exhale through your nose, then take a bite of your dumpling. You nibble on the fried dough, stretching out the silence, delaying your response.

It hasn’t even started, and it might not even start. But you’re already thinking about all the things that could go wrong. Yoong is your friend, first and foremost. He’s a good friend, and you would be crushed if you lose that relationship.

What if he hurts you, or you hurt him?

Sometimes, people are meant to hurt each other even if they don’t mean to.

Yoongi hasn’t seen your pieces in all of their jagged glory, how they’re only meant to reflect the light but never be healed by it. He’s still blissfully unaware of the ugly thoughts that have a home inside your head, and you’re afraid if you let him in, he’d realize it’s a place he doesn’t want to be. It’s hard to love a broken thing. You wouldn’t want to love you either.

Maybe this is the real reason that’s been holding you back all this time. Maybe it isn’t Jungkook - though he certainly isn’t absolved - but it’s you, and how you just don’t know if you’re someone who deserves to love and be loved. You’ve felt inadequate more times than you can count. You’ve been left before. Who’s to say it isn’t going to happen again?

You’re well aware that this is a bad way to look at things, but can anyone really blame you? You still have a heart, and despite how fragmented it is, you still want to protect it.

“I know that look,” Taehyung says, parting your fog and pulling you back to him. “You’re overthinking again.”

You roll your eyes. He knows you so well, but does he have to call you out every time?

“I’m not overthinking. I’m regular thinking.”

“Right. And to normal people, that’s overthinking.”

“It’s just…” you wonder out loud, gaze on the floor. “What if I go all in, and Yoongi sees me for who I am and thinks that I’m just an utterly sad person who can’t be loved? That I’m too much work when he’s got literally thousands of people throwing themselves at him left and right?”

Taehyung stares at the side of your face as he bites the inside of his cheek. His tongue soothes the spot, his jaw clenching once. “He’s not going to think that.”

“You don’t know that,” you say, the corners of your mouth tugging down.

“You’re not unlovable just because one person didn’t love you right. So stop it with that bullshit, because I love you,” he says, voice serious. Even Jimin stays silent as he listens to his friend, his eyes flickering between you and Taehyung. “And Jimin loves you. Hobi loves you.”

You merely blink, because you hate it when he’s right. In all fairness, you understand. This is the same thing you would tell him if the situation were reversed.

You deflect anyway. That’s what you do best.

“You don’t count,” you tell him with an unserious scoff, your tone starkly contrasting his. “You’re my family.”

You taste something bitter as soon as the words leave your mouth. You should know better than anyone, that just because someone’s your family, doesn’t mean they have to love you.

Taehyung reenacts the blinking guy meme before chuckling, holding a hand over his chest like you’ve just wounded him. “Ouch.”

“You two are getting nowhere,” Jimin interjects. “Just call Yoongi.”

“And say what?” you ask.

“I told you. Say yes. God, you’re so dense sometimes.”

You reach over to jab a finger into his side, making him hiss and shuffle away from you.

“That wasn’t nice,” you grumble.

“Well, somebody’s gotta say it.” He gives you a look, eyebrows raised for a few seconds before he lowers them and grows more stern. “Come on, Y/N. You know you don’t want to say no, or else you would’ve turned him down already. You said you wanted to start dating again. Yoongi is practically on his knees offering himself to you. What are you waiting for?”

There’s a voice in the back of your head - tiny, barely audible - that whispers, Who are you waiting for?

“Fuck it, I’ll say it,” Jimin continues. “It sucks balls that Jungkook hurt you, but you can’t let that affect you for the rest of your life. Not everyone is going to hurt you. You’re not even giving Yoongi a chance just because someone else did you dirty. If you keep always thinking about the worst possible outcome and banking on it to happen, then you’re never going to get anywhere. I love you, dude, but y’know.”

You stare at Jimin with your mouth slightly open, stunned into silence. When you glance at Taehyung, he’s surprised too, though probably not as much as you.

After a couple of minutes, you say, “Wow.”

“Tough love. I have my moments.” Jimin shrugs casually, like he didn’t just drop a truth bomb on your head. “But also…” He picks his phone up and types something in. Your phone instantly buzzes with a notification.

“Open the link I just sent you,” he says.

“You are literally sitting across from me.”

“Just open it! I made you a playlist.”

“Aw, Jimin, that’s so cute,” you coo softly, reaching over to pinch his cheek before he swats your hand away. You unlock your phone to see what Jimin made you, because that is some friendship hall of fame stuff right there. However, when the link redirects you to your music app, your smile immediately drops.

Aaand he’s back.

You stare at the screen for a good ten seconds to try and find your bearings, flabbergasted at something that is quite honestly very on-brand for Jimin if you think about it. “You made me a playlist called Dick Appointment with an eggplant emoji and the tongue out emoji and it’s mostly just Yoongi’s songs. Even the playlist cover is from his Valentino shoot.”

“So you can get it on while Agust D plays in the background!” Jimin grins, and you could just smack it right off his face.

“Park Jimin, who raised you? You are vile.”

“Validate me,” he demands. Oh, you would smack him. You really would. “I spent hours making that playlist.”

“It’s literally just Yoongi’s songs.”

“Yeah, but I had to curate an experience. I can’t just dump every song into a playlist and call it a day. I gotta make sure they fit the vibe.”

“I literally just heard the most profound shit from you not even two minutes ago.” Then, you turn to Taehyung with an exasperated look on your face. “Why would you let him do this?”

He just waves a dismissive hand in the air, like Jimin isn’t even there. “I’m not responsible for the stupid shit he does.”

Jimin crosses his arms in front of his chest, both eyebrows raised dramatically as he gapes at you. “You both suck. From now on, you can make your own sexytime playlists.”

“Nobody even asked you to do that!” you cry.

“Yeah! Which makes me an even more considerate friend,” he says. “Ugh. Whatever. Go call Yoongi.”

“You want me to do it now?”

“Yes. Because I know you’ll wuss out when you’re alone. You can stay and put him on speakers for us to hear or you can go out into the hallway. Come on, chop chop.”

“No, I have to text him first,” you protest. “What if he’s busy?”

Jimin narrows his eyes at you suspiciously, but allows you this after a moment. “Fine.”

You take out your phone from your bag that’s lying carelessly on the floor to draft a quick message to Yoongi.

[12:59] You: got a minute?

The three of you go back to the food, abandoning the previous topic of conversation in favor of something lighter and meaningless or else you would go crazy waiting for Yoongi’s reply. After you’re finished, you and Taehyung are in the middle of putting away all the empty containers and soda cans when your phone buzzes again.

You go to grab it to look at the notification, hands already starting to sweat.

[13:17] Yoongi: for you? always :)

You turn back to the guys to find them already looking at you. Jimin wiggles his eyebrows suggestively while Taehyung just stares at you.

“Time to get your whore on,” Jimin says in an exaggeratedly sultry voice.

You turn to Taehyung for help. “He’s bullying me.”

“Ignore him,” your best friend tells you gently. “Go call Yoongi.”

When you take your phone out into the hallway, you make sure to go to the far end of it, near the main entrance so the two dorks can’t eavesdrop. You’ll tell them everything once you come back anyway, but you don’t want them within earshot while you’re in the middle of it.

Yoongi picks up your call on the third ring. In the background, your ear picks up on some chatter.

“Hey, princess,” he greets you. Then he holds the phone away from his ear to tell someone that he’d be back in a bit.

“Hey,” you say. “Where are you?”

“Just at a fitting. I have an ad campaign to film next week,” he answers. “Did you call just to get my whereabouts?”

“No, I… If you’re busy, we can talk later.”

“We’re still in the middle of lunch break anyway. What did you want to talk about?”

You briefly regret not taking a minute to psych yourself up before. You suck in a deep breath, which eases your nerves for just a second, long enough for you to say, “Yes.”

You’re met with brief silence from the other end of the line, which only makes your palms more clammy than they already are.

“Yes?” he echoes confusedly. “Yes what?”

“Yes,” you say again. “To…”

The silence commences once more, and lasts longer than you think you can handle. Then, you hear him stop in the middle of a breath.

“Oh.” A subsequent chuckle in response to the lightbulb that must’ve been switched on. “To that?”

“...Yes.”

“Yes?”

“Yes.”

It feels like you two have invented a secret language that nobody else could understand. A single syllable, bouncing off the metaphorical walls of your conversation. Two idiots sharing the same brain cell.

“Yes?” he continues to prod, but at this point, you know he’s just teasing you.

“Yes! God, stop making me say it again. We sound so stupid.”

He graces you with a hearty laugh that makes you fight back a sheepish smile, even though there isn’t a single soul in sight to witness it. Yoongi makes you so fucking shy for some reason. Your nerves dissolve momentarily as you lean against the wall, your index finger running along a crack in the paint.

“Hmm, I wish you would’ve told me this in person,” he says, his voice soft.

“I can’t handle you in person. You’d tease me so much.”

“Because you’re adorable when you’re flustered, that’s why.” He waits a second before adding, “You’re blushing right now, aren’t you?”

“You’re being overly confident, Min.”

“Maybe,” he responds easily. “But am I right, though?”

“Shut up.”

When Yoongi said he would cook for you, you almost gasped.

“You can cook?” you had asked. It wasn’t an earth-shattering revelation or anything, but you suppose you’d never given much thought to the hidden sides of him.

“Y/N,” he laughed then. “I’m a great cook. I could probably make a pretty decent career out of being a chef.”

“I didn’t know that,” you told him sheepishly.

“There’s a lot of things you still need to know about me.” It sounded like a promise. Like I’m willing to show you me. Like I’m willing to take the first step if you’d be in this with me too. “Does that sound like a good idea? You, me, dinner at your place?”

“My place?”

“Yeah, so you’ll be more comfortable. I’ll come over.”

This one simple gesture shouldn’t affect you that much, but it does. You appreciate that he’s considerate even when it comes to the littlest things. You swell with gratitude for the thought he puts into this, into putting your comfort first. It made you feel a bit better about yourself, calmed your stormy sea of thoughts enough to rationally accept the fact that he genuinely cares.

Regardless, it doesn’t stop you from spending most of the day obsessively cleaning your apartment. Even - and especially - your bedroom, although you’re sure that is not where the night will end. Every surface is spotless, not a single speck of dust to be found. It’s like the goddamn Pope is coming over for a house inspection.

You haven’t had a first date in… fuck, how long has it been now? Nine years? It’s almost been a fucking decade already? You honestly can’t tell if that’s embarrassing or not.

But you remember the last time.

College, freshman year, with Jungkook. His yellow piece of sticky note that he slipped inside your favorite book. His adorably flustered expression when he timidly stood in front of you in the campus library. The way he was trying so hard to be confident and charming throughout your first dinner together. How he ran back to you after saying goodnight.

No.

You shut your eyes and shake your head, warding off any Jungkook-related thoughts before they could send you spiraling. You can’t reminisce about your ex while waiting for someone else to show. Yoongi deserves better, and that’s what you’re trying to be.

You’re not exactly sure how nice you should dress tonight. Yoongi told you that you could be clad in sweats for all he cares. If the dinner didn’t hold any connotation other than platonic, maybe you would’ve really donned your loungewear like you were merely having Taehyung and Jimin over for pizza.

You’d completely forgotten all the things people worry about in the early stages of dating, when you want to impress the other person but don’t want them to think that you’re trying too hard.

Calm down. It’s just Yoongi. He’s seen you ugly crying with mascara running down your face, for fuck’s sake.

In the end, you opt for a sweater and a comfortable skirt. Casual.

Yoongi rings your doorbell about ten minutes later than when he said he’d be there, holding a bag full of groceries. The visual alone makes you bite back a giggle and subsequently fail. You believe this is what people would call husband material.

You take his coat and guide him into your home. “Welcome to my humble abode,” you say shyly, gesturing around as you lead him into the kitchen to show him where everything is. Why are you acting like this? This isn’t you. If Taehyung or Jimin could see you right now, they would probably laugh. Hoseok would straight up be rolling on the floor.

You barely breathe as you watch Yoongi take in his surroundings. It’s intimidating, even though you know it’s just Yoongi.

“I actually don’t know what I expected, but I like it. It’s very you,” he comments, smiling.

“What does that mean?”

“It means that it’s cute,” he says, throwing you a wink as he leans against your kitchen counter.

You avert your gaze immediately. “Oh… Thanks,” you reply, fiddling with the hem of your sweater. “So, uhm, what are you making? How can I help?”

“Just sit down. I got this.”

“Yoongi,” you say his name in protest. “I want to h-”

“I’m trying to romance you here. Let me do that,” Yoongi says, his smile turning lopsided as he starts emptying the contents of his grocery bags. Even though his tone is light, the gentle reminder of tonight being a date shuts you right up.

You take a seat at your dining table, though you can’t really sit still. As Yoongi starts working, you absentmindedly talk to each other about your day, about his campaign, about Seokjin’s album. At one point, you get up to creep over to his side when the smell of whatever he’s making becomes more prominent. You try to peek at the pot, curious, but he just shoos you away by bumping his hip against yours.

When you give him a small pout, you pretend not to notice the way his eyes dart to your mouth. You retract yourself from his personal space, choosing a spot on the other side of your kitchen island, staring at his back as he works.

You watch him expertly navigate your kitchen like he’s been here before. When he’s finished, he makes you sit down, not even letting you help bring the food to the table.

“What is it?” you ask once he’s settled in his seat, everything plated in front of you.

“Kimchi jjigae,” he says, a proud look on his face. “My mom’s recipe.”

It’s endearing, and it makes you smile.

For the most part, Yoongi lets you eat in peace, though there’s still a couple of flirtatious comments here and there. Every time it comes, you bite down on your bottom lip to try and snap out of that daze before you cough, as if that would help tone down the colors adorning your face. There’s no verbal response from you, and it seems like Yoongi doesn’t expect one either, because he just chuckles. You think he must notice the palpable nervousness that radiates off of you, but it’s not like you’re doing a very good job at hiding it.

You’re taking baby steps and he knows it. The fact that you even agreed to this at all is already major progress.

When you’re done eating, he clears the table while he asks you to open the expensive bottle of wine that he brought over. It does wonders for your nerves.

Three glasses in and you’re visibly more relaxed as you both sit on the couch in the living room, facing each other. There’s a small smile on your face that you can’t help, maybe it’s some of your inhibitions wearing off as a side effect of the alcohol.

You glance around the room, and you take in the sight of Yoongi sitting here, this close to you. He feels bigger than your small world can handle.

“You know,” you start. If the wine didn’t make you more mellow, you probably wouldn’t be saying this. “There are thousands of people thirsting over you every day.”

Yoongi tilts his head, swirling the wine in his glass. “Really?”

“Don’t you look at the internet? I personally know two girls from college who are on the Yoongi Marry Me train,” you say matter-of-factly, like you aren’t borderline tipsy in front of him.

You aren’t an avid Twitter user, but every time you check the damn bird app, Yoongi is almost always trending. In every single one of his posts on social media, there is always an influx of comments asking him to marry them. Not only that, when word first got out about you collaborating with Agust D back then, people you knew - both old friends and acquaintances - practically bombarded your messages to see if it was true, and to ask if you could get them an autograph.

Yoongi stretches out his legs until they brush against yours. Your stomach flips even though it’s only your legs that are barely touching.

“The what train?”

“You seriously don’t know about the Yoongi Marry Me movement? Look it up. It’s a whole thing. People would do anything to, I don’t know, hold your hand or something.”

With an amused look on his face, he holds your gaze. “Would you?”

“What?”

“Would you do all of that just to hold my hand? Because you don’t have to, y’know.” He brings the wine glass to his lips, partially hiding his face from you, and you don’t know whether he’s doing it for your sake or his in preparation for the words he speaks next. “But I would do it to hold yours.”

You’re sure that your cheeks are burning bright, your stomach twisted in knots. It’s the wine, but it’s definitely the effect of his words too. You stare at Yoongi in surprise; no matter how many times he openly flirts with you, he’d still elicit the same reaction from you. It’ll be hard to get used to it. He just always seems to know what to say to make you blush like a schoolgirl, which you resent but you can’t deny the sparks of excitement that make your fingertips tingle.

Yoongi is smooth, and it’s even worse - or is it better? You haven’t decided yet - that you know he means every word he says. It makes you feel… wanted. It’s good to know that he’s being genuine, and to know that Yoongi isn’t the type of person who would ever pull the rug out from under you.

Yoongi is… stable.

You suppose, after everything you’ve been through, that stability is what you need. It’s good for you.

You try to swerve around the thoughts, to avoid them at all costs, but deep down you know now that they’re glaringly true.

That love is stored in two bags of groceries, so filled to the brim that some onions almost fall out. Love is stored in every flick of his wrist holding a knife, slicing the sharp blade across your cutboard. Clean cuts, yet he’s never this way when it comes to you.

Love is stored in a fond smile and adoring eyes when he sees how you cradle your expensive dishware like it’s a newborn baby before you set it carefully on the table.

Love is stored in a Yoongi-shaped silhouette, dancing over your countertops with practiced precision in every movement, filling in the cracks of your home. The love in him is reserved because you, like the moon when it crescents, still have a ways to go.

When he stands at your door an hour later with his coat in hand, you wait for him to speak first.

“Performance review?” he asks. “How did I do?”

“I… liked it. It was nice,” you say honestly. But you still feel the wine in your system, and it makes you bold enough to tease him for a change. “But it was my first date in a while, so it’s hard to tell if that opinion is objective.”

He rolls his eyes fondly. “Do I qualify for a second date then?”

You hum in thought, making him wait on purpose. “Yeah, I guess,” you say, feigning nonchalance, which earns you a hearty laugh.

“What are you doing tomorrow night?” he asks, hopeful.

“Don’t know yet,” you answer, though you’ll probably end up going home and catching up on a kdrama. “Are you coming in tomorrow?”

“Just in the morning. I have a shoot in the afternoon.” He shifts to lean his weight on his other leg, tipping his body closer to you. “But I can pick you up after.”

“Yeah? And where would we go?”

Yoongi shrugs in earnest. “Just drive around? Grab a bite?” he thinks out loud, tilting his head slightly to one side for emphasis. “I could take you to that popup store you mentioned.”

You quirk an eyebrow. “You would stand in line with me to buy a novelty mug?”

“Pretty sure we wouldn’t have to stand in line if I gave them a call,” he says, grinning. “One of the perks of the job, y’know.”

“Must be nice,” you laugh, then shift to lean just a tad closer to him. You look at him for a brief moment before you agree, “Yeah, okay.”

You and Yoongi stand there at the door, each of you on either side of the threshold. This would be an appropriate moment for a kiss, you think. That explosive first kiss, if this were a movie. Exhilaration courses through your veins. You feel it from your head to the tips of your fingers to your toes. The feeling is rendering you a mere teenager again.

It’s exciting because it’s new. You have the entire book ahead of you, waiting to be written. At this point, anything could happen. You’re a blank canvas waiting to be drawn, a blank page hoping to be written.

Wait.

Back up.

A kiss?

A kiss?!

With Yoongi?

You’re thinking about kissing Yoongi?!

Fuck.

Fuck?!

It’s the wine.

Your thoughts knock against each other like bumper cars, echoing loudly in your brain that it almost gives you a headache.

You stay still as Yoongi leans down, your heart racing while your brain just keyboard-smashes. You can’t tell if you want him to kiss you or not, but when he only presses his lips against your cheek, you feel two emotions at once.

The first is disappointment, the second is relief. They press down on you with almost equal force, and you’re not really sure which one weighs heavier.

Baby steps.

You blink when he pulls away, and he just smiles fondly at you as if he can read your mind.

“Goodnight, princess.”

You watch him until he’s in the elevator, until the doors close and the lift descends. Even when you know that he must be on his way to his car and that someone else is making their way up, you stand there, with your hand loosely wrapped around the door handle, your breathing slightly erratic as you process what just happened.

Déjà vu?

It’s oddly reminiscent.

You’ve been here before.

Part of you thinks he’ll burst through the elevator doors, or rush up the stairs if the lift is occupied, and come back to grab your face and kiss you senseless.

He doesn’t.

Jungkook knows you’re probably waiting for Yoongi.

He’s seen Yoongi pick you up after work almost daily over the past couple of weeks, and it’s driving him insane. Even on the days that Yoongi comes to the studio during the day, the guy is all over you, so much so that he doesn’t even bother being a nuisance to Jungkook anymore, which just makes him a thousand times more insufferable.

Something is happening.

He can’t weasel shit out of Jimin anymore because Jimin has been especially tight-lipped after accidentally spilling Yoongi’s confession to you.

Because that should be him in Yoongi’s place. Or should he say his place, and Yoongi is just a placeholder. An imposter.

Because it used to be him that you smiled shyly at.

Jimin’s words have been plaguing his every waking hour since he was forced to hear them. If she wants to choose Yoongi, let her do that too. It feels like he’s rewinding all of your memories, retracing them with cautious fingers only to find that his every footstep is being erased to make room for someone else.

An abandoned dirt road, while you walk down a flower-filled path holding someone else’s hand.

Like you’re stamping him out.

Like he was never there at all.

Not only are you denying him a chance, you’re giving it to someone else. When he tries to move at someone else’s pace, all he gets is left behind.

It’s not about Yoongi; or at least, it’s not just about him. Yoongi doesn’t even really matter to Jungkook in this equation. It’s about what Yoongi represents. An idea of a person that Jungkook can never be.

A bigger life. A stable present and an even brighter future. Yoongi is everything better than him.

And that’s his own problem to deal with, not anyone else’s. At the end of the day, no one has to live with his insecurities but himself.

But still, he can’t help it. Whenever he sees you with Yoongi, his eyes burn. Please don’t let him take my place, he wishes every time, you’re the only good thing about me.

It’s jealousy, sure, of course it’s there.

But what if you realize what everyone else already knows? That Yoongi is better in every single way. That Yoongi is the person who really deserves you.

What if you start to see Jungkook the way he sees himself?

You hating him - despising him with every cell in your body - is a thousand times better than you deeming him unworthy.

“I talked to Jihyo,” he speaks up suddenly, when it’s only the two of you.

“Okay,” you answer, never taking your eyes off the page in front of you. You must have circled the words daisy a thousand times already, wracking your brain for anything that rhymes. “I don’t know why you’re telling me this, but good for you.”

At this point, you wonder if you should just avoid the studio for the time being. It’s empty here again. You resent Seokjin for drowning in concept photos. You resent Namjoon for leaving Jungkook here to fend for himself, but it’s only fair, because Namjoon was only supposed to give him a helping hand, not take over the whole thing. You even resent Yoongi a bit, for not being here right this second.

“I talked to her,” Jungkook says again, ignoring your sass. “She won’t give you a hard time anymore.”

This makes you look at him. You never asked him to do this. You never asked him to do anything. In fact, you have only ever implored him to sit still and leave things alone.

“She never gave me a hard time,” you say. Sure, you don’t appreciate being given the death glare first thing in the morning, but it’s not something that you can’t ignore. It doesn’t actively affect you, and the only reason Jihyo does it is because of Jungkook.

Because he broke things off with her?

Because he gives you more attention?

Ugh. Attention?

This is the stupidest and most childish thing you have had to think about in ages.

“You said she acts differently toward you.”

“And aren’t you the reason why?” you counter. “Because you two were fucking?”

Jungkook visibly winces at your words, like he did when you mentioned it the first time in the break room. You don’t mean to be snarky; you’re just stating the facts. They were hooking up.

You don’t harbor any ill will toward any of his past lovers, and that includes Jihyo. You know she doesn’t have anything against you either, at least not on a personal level because you don’t know each other well enough to do so. She’s just someone you pass by every day on your way to the elevator.

“So why did things end?” you ask just for the sake of it, since he was the one who brought it up. But you’d be lying if you said you weren’t curious.

He hesitates for a moment. “She wanted something more and it wasn’t the same for me.”

It’s stupid that the tiny voice in the back of your head resurfaces, hoping that you were the reason why he couldn’t pursue things with another woman.

Jihyo isn’t you, that much is clear. You never asked for anything more from him, not once from start to finish. He was always the first one to pour love into you. It’s arguable which one of you loved the other more - maybe you loved each other equally, just in different ways - but it was a fact that Jungkook always took the initiative. He made the first move so you wouldn’t have to. He gave you the option to match his affection, and never have to worry about being left out to dry.

He took initiative, right until the very end.

You bite your bottom lip, then give him a curt response, “Okay.”

Your phone vibrates with a text from Yoongi but you don’t open it just yet. You look at Jungkook, who only looks back at you. His lips part slightly as he searches for the right words, or any word at all. It’s like you’re asking him to navigate a minefield when all he has to do is be honest. Even if he told you that he fell out of love with you, it wouldn’t be that bad. You would be hurt, yes, but you wouldn’t blame him. You would understand. It would be a reason.

Silence fills the room, save for the continuous tapping of your pen on paper.

He says your name, pleading. “I’m trying here.”

At Jimin’s party, Jungkook said you were someone important to him. You don’t doubt that he meant it, and that’s what infuriates you the most. You’re important, but he keeps running circles around you and making your head spin. You’re important, but everything he’s done makes you think that you’re the opposite. You’re important, just not important enough to get an explanation.

You know he’s genuine about everything he says, but that’s not enough. You can’t sustain yourself on just his words alone.

It’s another cycle of the same conversation, running over and over and over again. He’s reaching out but he’s holding back. You’re still getting nowhere. You don’t know how many times he has to make you ask this, only to not give you any clarity at all.

If there is a trait of Jungkook’s that you both love and hate at the same time, it is that he doesn’t know when to quit.

He texts you every day even when you don’t reply - one for good morning, and one for goodnight. He gets you a chai latte every day, which doesn’t do shit for your concentration because there’s not enough caffeine in it. He gets the door for you whenever you go into the same room together. He hounds your every waking moment. He makes sure that he’s the first thing you see when you wake up, and the last thought that crosses your mind before you go to sleep.

I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you.

You suppose this is him, showing up again. In a lot of ways, it’s selfish. But it’s an effort too. Now your phone is full of meaningless messages that remain unread.

You barely glance at him. It’s routine at this point. He tries in ways that you don’t bother acknowledging anymore, because you figured that the best course of action is to let him wear himself out. When he has had enough of it, when he deems his efforts to be enough to absolve his guilt, he’ll stop. He has to.

But at what point does it stop?

At what point will you stop wanting to give in to him? Your mind rages wars with itself every time you feel his eyes on you, and you have to kill the urge to not turn your head and look at him too. At what point will you stop wanting to go to him and let him in again? At what point will you stop unconsciously making him a priority?

All of this, you supposed, is to say: Do you still love him?

You know that if you sit down and get to the root of it, you’ll find an answer you don’t like. Even in this moment, you want him to tell you just a fraction of the truth, because that would probably be enough to reel you back in.

Your own heart claws at your chest but this is how it has to be for a while. All you can do is take it one day at a time, gently nudge your heart in one direction like a child that needs to be goaded, until he doesn’t live on the forefront of your mind anymore.

Until someone else does.

“No, you’re not.” You stand up then, closing your notebook with more force than necessary. “If you’re really trying, then I wouldn’t still be wondering why I wasn’t enough to make you stay.”

Even then, you’re still hoping that he’d say something else. But when you’re only met with silence, the anticipated disappointment in you bubbles, boiling. His reluctance to clue you in makes it easier for you to decide.

There's someone else who's willing to give you things that you don't even need to ask for.

In your mind, it's clear who you should choose.

Jungkook clenches his teeth, holding his breath as he watches you shove your things into your bag. “Are you going home?” he asks after a minute.

You could say yes and let the conversation die a swift and simple death. But for some reason, you choose to kill it violently. You bite the inside of your cheek before you tell him, “I don’t know. Yoongi’s picking me up.”

The chagrinned look that takes over his features for a split second is one that you immediately catch. Maybe it’s because he wants to make sure you know how he feels about this, or maybe you still have a way of reading him somehow. Regardless of what his face tells you, he doesn’t prod any further.

Your phone vibrates on the table, the sound ten times more thunderous amidst the silence that’s befallen the both of you. You don’t need to check the screen to know who’s calling, and neither does he. When you leave, the sound of your fading footsteps ricochets off the walls. It shoots right through him.

He hears every word of that conversation ringing in his ears then. He recalls that afternoon’s sunset; it was the most beautiful sunset he saw that year, despite the sun overhead mocking him with every magnificent glint of light. He sees the look on your face when his words finally register in your mind, the Oh moment when you understood what he was saying, when the smile you wore sunk helplessly to the floor because even though you knew that love had an expiration date, you hoped your love would be the exception.

That memory fades, only to be replaced by something much worse. He sits there with Jimin’s words, echoing in his mind, reverberating around the room.

Technically, you and Yoongi haven’t been on a second date. You think.

You’ve seen him almost every night since the dinner, when he picks you up at the studio. Sometimes, you two just drive around. Sometimes, you sit by the river in the cold, eating hot ramen cups and giggling over nothing. Sometimes, he just takes you straight to your home if he has a packed schedule the next day.

These days, you see Yoongi even more than you see Taehyung. Even though he hasn’t explicitly implied that any of these outings is a date, you know you aren’t hanging out as just friends anymore.

It feels good to be wanted. The feeling is reinforced tenfold because it’s been so long that it’s like you’re experiencing it for the first time in a new body, as a different person.

But even after all of that, you two can still go back to being friends like nothing ever happened. Because in a way, maybe nothing did happen. Maybe things have always been like this between you, the only difference is now you’re noticing the meaning behind his words and glances.

You two can still go back, because technically, no line has been crossed.

But tonight, something feels different. It’s colder, but Yoongi keeps you warm with all the looks he’s been giving you all night.

It feels like you’re both toeing that line right now.

You know that once you cross it, things can’t revert back to the way they were anymore.

You know that it will happen eventually, because Yoongi isn’t doing this just to half-ass it. He won’t back out, and he has made it crystal clear from the start.

Usually, this is the part where he tells you goodnight and you have to pretend not to freak out when he kisses you on the cheek in goodbye.

He takes a step closer, you take no step back.

“You know what I’m about to do, right?”

You do. You could say you’re even hopeful.

“I might have an idea…”

“Okay,” he says easily. He takes your waist in his hands and brings you closer. The way the corner of his mouth tugs upward tells you that he’s pleased, that you know what’s about to come and you’re letting it happen. Still, he asks, “Can I?”

You nod. That glowing sensation washes over you in waves.

“Words, princess,” he reminds you.

Your hands land on the lapel of his coat. “Yes, you can.”

He chuckles, and squeezes you a little tighter.

Then it happens.

The line you clumsily drew in the sand has been erased.

Yoongi is kissing you.

You’re kissing him back.

He’s soft and warm and he holds you like you’re delicate. His sincerity, you can feel it in his kiss, and it’s only a fraction of it. Regardless, there is still life that blooms this winter. Inside of you, small and fragile, but it’s there.

You sigh into his mouth, feeling completely limbless if not for him holding your body upright. One of his arms wounds itself tighter around your middle while his other hand tucks your hair behind your ear so he could cup your cheek more easily. Yoongi tilts his head further to one side to deepen the kiss. You feel something in his kiss that you have never heard in his words, something soft and pleading. Wanting but still contained. Out of fear that you might run away, perhaps? You can’t blame him though. You are a bit of a flight risk.

The wind dances past like a nosy bystander, pressing you further into him like it wants you to be more sure in the way you move, in how much of yourself you’re willing to give to him. Instead, the cold just makes you shiver.

When you break away, his hand on your face moves to hold the back of your head. Yoongi doesn’t look half as flushed as you think you do, though his cheeks are slightly rosy.

Through a thin veil of clouds, the moon still shines down on his profile.

The chill in the air, the mesmerizing view of moonlight dancing across his features, and most of all, the way you’re still lost in the kiss, in the feeling of being wanted.

“C’mon, I’ll walk you up,” he says, after you stay silent for a beat too long, hooded eyes basking in the warmth of a heart chasing your own. You want to want him. You do want him, but there’s still something missing. It doesn’t feel entirely right, but for now, you try not to dwell on it too much. Just let it be. Maybe in time, that void will inevitably fill.

Yoongi holds your hand through the lobby and on the whole way up even if neither of you says anything, just shy glances in the elevator and bashful half-hidden smiles. You don’t invite him in once you get to your door - because an invite now insinuates something that you just aren’t ready for - but he does kiss you again. If the kiss you shared downstairs is a proper goodnight kiss, then this one means see you later and doesn’t last half as long, but it makes you tingle just the same.

He pulls back, only to dive in again, and again, and again, until one chaste kiss turns into five and you have to push him away with a giggle so you can breathe.

“Sorry,” he mumbles, eyes still set on your mouth. “Couldn’t help myself.”

“Yoongi,” you say, a little breathily, like oxygen hasn’t sufficiently made its way into your lungs since downstairs.

He rests his forehead against yours. “You’ve never said my name like that before,” he sighs.

“Like what?”

“Like you want me to kiss you again.”

You tug your bottom lip between your teeth and pretend to consider this even though you know you would like to be kissed again. “Maybe I do,” you say after a beat, bravely. “Just one more.”

He gives you your final kiss of the night then, one that lasts a second longer than the others, like he’s trying to memorize how you taste.

You head in once Yoongi is out of sight. You lean your body against the door the second you snap the lock shut. You touch your lips lightly, reliving those moments again even though they happened mere seconds ago. You’re buzzing with excitement like a schoolgirl, every feeling coursing through your body all at once.

You’re familiar with this. It’s the stage right before every love song you listen to suddenly reminds you of that one person.

You go through your regular evening routine with a pep in your step, thanks to a certain person tonight. You take off your carefully applied makeup and take a nice, hot shower. You think the heat would help melt away the high that you’re riding - like you’ve had too much coffee to drink and now your senses are beyond heightened - but it doesn’t. Once you’re fresh and comfortable in your PJs, you still feel that jittery feeling seeping through your pores, keeping you awake. There’s a message from Yoongi that tells you he has made it home safely.

It’s still early, and you’re far too restless to go to bed. You decided to brew yourself a mug of chamomile tea, even though you don’t even like chamomile and you can’t remember why you even have it, but they say that apparently chamomile is good for sleep. You decide to take the mug into the living room to sort through your mini mountain of mail that should’ve been dealt with days ago.

Sitting underneath that pile of junk mail and letters addressed to the previous tenant even though you’ve lived here for nearly two years, is a cream-colored card addressed to you. The material feels smooth under your fingertips, like velvet if that’s even possible. Inside, there are two names - one you recognize and another you don’t - typed out in a fancy calligraphy font and encircled by pretty flowers, all pinks and whites and romantic.

The saccharine sensation associated with the thought of Yoongi dissipates instantly. Instead, your mind blanks, only to buzz to life again momentarily with a newfound sinking feeling dragging you down.

You suddenly realize that Jungkook hasn’t crossed your mind once tonight. Not until now. That crestfallen look in his eyes from the other night appears in your mind again, clear as day.

You are, quite literally, holding someone’s declaration of love and yet, it’s not joy that you feel, having been asked to join them on their special day.

You never thought you would see Jungkook’s family again - even though you always adored his parents and you felt that they loved you too - let alone receive an invitation to his brother’s wedding.

remember when y'all said u wanted a wedding?? well u didn't say whose wedding 😌

707 notes · View notes

natsuslover · 5 months

Note

ur account is so cutee !!

do you have any erasermic headcanons? (*^^*)♡

aww tysm! 🫶

and ofc i have erasermic headcanons they’re so chaotic i love them so much. i didn’t know if u wanted platonic or romantic so i just wrote platonic bc i have more hcs for that 😭😭

ੈ✩‧₊˚ platonic erasermic headcanons ੈ✩‧₊˚

notes— i’m rewatching mha rn so i’m actually really excited to write all these mha headcanons

ft. shota aizawa, present mic (idk his real name)

warnings: very light spoiler in one of them i think

present mic gossips about the students ALL. THE. TIME. (mostly complaining or like random tidbits of tea but it’s harmless) to aizawa but he doesn’t really pay attention lmao.

except from time to time when mic says something that’s so clearly not the truth and aizawa just has to correct him.

when mic asks aizawa how he knows so much about the students aizawa’s like “they just tell me” which gets mic somewhat ticked off because the students never go to him for anything lol.

when aizawa’s teaching class present mic just randomly pops in from time to time to “shake things up”

he blatantly interrupts the lecture and goes up to the podium and gets all sentimental while dramatically retelling the students stories of his and aizawa’s high school days.

meanwhile aizawa just whips out his sleeping bag and uses the time to take a much needed nap.

really i think present mic does that on purpose because he KNOWS aizawa doesn’t sleep enough so it’s his own way of caring.

both of them just sit and reminisce about their high school days every once in a while because they want to remember the good things about shirakumo :(

aizawa’s not the most sentimental person (at least he doesn’t show that side very much) so present mic is one of the only people who gets to see aizawa when he’s really emotional.

they’re literally the grumpy x sunshine, golden retriever x black cat, opposites attract trope.

aizawa always pretends to be annoyed or exhausted by mic’s presence but everyone knows that’s not true.

despite acting like he doesn’t care he’s actually really appreciative of present mics friendship.

aizawa often goes through tough times with all his students (especially izuku, shoto, and katsuki) getting dragged into situations because he cares and worries about them, and present mic is there cheer him up and reassure him that everything will be fine.

present mic has a really optimistic outlook on life which usually uplifts aizawa’s pessimistic attitude.

whenever it comes to lesson plans both of them help each other out to the best of their abilities because neither of them enjoy planning stuff out.

honestly, i feel like even though they were friends in high school, their bond truly got stronger when they started teaching and because of their students.

random but one time in high school present mic dyed aizawa’s hair blond while he was sleeping at a slumber party.

the next morning aizawa woke up to mic’s relentless giggling, looked in the mirror, and was too tired to even care his hair was yellow lmao. he just looked at mic like “seriously dude?” and continued to wash his face.

but when present mic looked in the mirror he noticed that aizawa lowkey looked better than him in his signature hair color and immediately ran to the store to find black hair dye to dye it back.

after all, there’s no way he’d live it down if aizawa started pulling more girls than him…

unbeknownst to everyone else, aizawa and mic have super smash bros competitions every weekend (mic’s idea obviously)

aizawa wins

every time lmao

mic gets super pissed off about it because aizawa’s not even trying like 95% of the time and he’s STILL unbeatable.

present mic hates olives and aizawa doesn’t mind them, so whenever they get food with olives in it, mic spends time picking out EVERY olive and puts them in aizawa’s food.

they both like spicy food but while present mic is huffing and puffing and hakahajcahak-ing through his food, aizawa doesn’t even have a single drop of sweat on his face.

whenever they want to skip a teacher meeting, they use each other as excuses.

like “oh shit mic just uh… fell off a mountain i have to go help him brb” or “damn looks like eraser broke his foot gotta go check!”

they’re both dedicated teachers but sometimes those meetings can get sooo tedious.

aizawa often has to help present much grocery shop even at his grown age because man does NOT know how to shop like an adult lmao.

aizawa’s telling mic how he needs more onions because he ran out but in a split second the entire cart is filled with an entire year’s worth of snacks and junk food.

one glare from aizawa and poor present mic is putting back every single food item that he got lol.

mic is without a doubt the yapper of the duo.

like bro doesn’t know when to shut up and aizawa just goes along with it because that means he doesn’t have to talk as much.

actually aizawa’s like zoned out the whole time but present mic doesn’t really care he just likes that he can talk without interruption.

both of them are such opposites it just works out somehow and i really love that for them.

ok so this is really rushed and def not my best work but my brain is so fried rn i can’t think of anything so i hope this works 😭 i’ll definitely do more erasermic hcs later on when i can actually think tho.

#mha headcanons #mha #my hero academia #bnha #boku no hero academia #shota aizawa #eraserhead #present mic #erasermic #aizawa headcanons #anime #mha anime

68 notes · View notes

filmbyjy · 1 year

Text

COLLIE DUTY

TWENTY-TWO — clearing up mistakes

SYNOPSIS > being the new CEO to the ‘Sim Corp’ was hard and stressful. jake didn’t have much time to spend with layla and so he decides to get a dogsitter, you. though, you were originally already his secretary. how will dog sitting bring you two closer?

WARNINGS: none :D let me know if there are some idk missing words to sentences. sometimes my brain processes the sentence but when I reread it, it doesn’t have the word but I swear I wrote it down😭

MASTERLIST | PREVIOUS | NEXT

as you threw on your outfit that you had decided for the ‘date’, or whatever jake asked you, you had stepped in front of the mirror and snapped a quick photo.

posting it right on your Instagram story that was very much public to everyone. it wasn’t disclosed but you had a decent amount of following but nobody saw your face, just your body. you had wanted to keep it a secret because you know, private stuff.

your friends knew about the account. heeseung even joked about you looking like some faceless model with the way you took pictures of yourself. quite suggestive poses, very little clothing but you just wanted to express yourself because why not love yourself?

“shit, I should leave.” you didn’t even think to cover your face when you posted that photo on your account. you had quickly made it out of your apartment and went downstairs to see jake’s car waiting for you.

the moment you entered the car, you see jake looking at his phone in shock. you had peeped at his phone a little. then it hits you, you posted that pic without covering your face. jake’s eyes slowly met with yours.

“sir.” it was the only thing you could mutter out.

“you’re the faceless model that I was looking for?” he says.

you were confused. no seriously confused, “what do you mean, Mr.Sim?”

“I wanted to possibly reach out to this girl to collab for the new collection that we’re going to send out to a designer brands competition and sign her up for a contract.”

“oh.”

“you’re her?” jake says still in shock.

“is it that shocking that I am her?”

“no, not at all. it’s just that…I didn’t think you’d pose in such positions.”

“I just post this for my own pleasure. it’s fun to dress up and take photos.”

“(name).”

“yes, Mr.Sim?”

“please be the model for our ‘JS collection’.”

“Mr.Sim, I don’t exactly want to be a model. I’m already your secretary and it’s something I have been focusing on for the past 4 years.”

“I know but this would be a great opportunity. You’re pretty and you definitely fit the vibes of our new collection, it’s perfect.”

you can’t help but blush when jake called you pretty.

“Mr.Sim-”

“also dropped the ‘Mr.Sim’. I already told you when it’s just us call me jake.” jake demanded said.

“okay, umm jake. I really don’t think I can do it.”

“then what if I reward you with something if you do it?”

you deadpanned at him, “jake, I am not Layla.”

“I’m not using the ‘good girl’ tactic like you’re a dog. I’m serious, I’ll reward you with something good.”

“what is this something good?”

“tickets for like a holiday? You deserve it after working long hours as my secretary and also…for hearing what you did back in office.”

“oh.”

holy shit, sound the alarm sim jaeyun is apologising.

“yeah, I was supposed to apologised at the restaurant once we got there but since we’re already here in my car talking, I think I should apologise first.” jake takes a deep breath.

“look, I understand what you heard isn’t exactly what any normal person should hear in an office space. let alone a CEO’s office. you’re also my secretary so it was unprofessional to let that happen considering your desk was also near me. I’ll be honest, that part slipped my mind. I forgot we’re both not in two different offices. your desk is like at least 10 footsteps away from my office.” jake was about to ramble on more but you had cut him off.

“jake.”

“yeah?”

“it’s fine. I understand you have your little scandalous activities you wanna do. moreover, you’re well, someone attractive so like it’s only more normal for you to have fun.”

jake shakes his head, “let’s forget about this and have dinner. I’m sure after a long day of working, you need some good food. of course, this is also a token of apology for the umm things you heard.” jake starts up the car and starts to drive.

it was great to have this whole thing be cleared up and jake apologising. it made you feel warm on the inside, hearing jake be soft-spoken and kind to you was a change. You liked this version of jake and if you were being honest, you liked the view beside you right now.

jake holding onto the steering wheel with one hand, slick back black hair with a few pieces of hair falling onto his forehead. His black suit tucked into his pants, the black slacks he wore, one of his sleeves folded up his hand. His arm exposed that showed off the black Galaxy watch he wore on his wrist.

God the arm veins…

Your inner conscious was screaming at you. Sim Jaeyun was definitely out to murder you. you don’t even know how long you’ve been staring at him for.

“We’re here.” Jake says as he parks the car at the front of the restaurant. He goes out of the car to pass the keys to the staff there and then opens the door for you.

“Let’s go, my lady.” he says in a deep voice. You swore you just got a whole shiver down your spine which is why jake went to open the back door of the car to grab his jacket and wrapped it around your figure.

“you’re not talking, are you in shock?” he snickers. “if you must know, I have never brought anyone to some fancy high end restaurant before.”

“oh…” was the only thing you could say.

jake chuckles before softly grabbing your hand, “let’s go, it’s cold out here.”

which was how you found yourself being dragged by jake into the restaurant where the food was extremely expensive and really divine. definitely a meal for the rich.

a/n: HELL🧎🏻‍♀️🧎🏻‍♀️ I am sat! jake do be very hot for apologising and knowing what he did was very wrong and if you think that they are gonna start dating, THINK AGAIN🙄🤚🏻 I gotta drag this story for a little longer

taglist[open]: @svarcq @wooonkies @ajayke-reads @peachysunooooo @xiaoderrrr @viagumi @lunakua @bubblytaetae @aureliaxuuu @nikiluvr16 @sngvhs @watermelon-sugars-things @bldelaine @enhaz1 @yeoungie @heart4hees @mimimovv @enczen @enhastolemyheart @woon2u @kyanmeai @4townn @skzenhalove @s00buwu @ce1ight @markleepooh @sparklingsjy @rizzshimura @bluxjun @beomgyusonlywife @jyndre @blamemef0rit @fanfangying1304 @kwiwin @heart4hees @luxurystark-jackson @yunjardi @ioszzn @mrowwww @hyhees @25dejulho @neoculturewhat @wtfhyuck @dianzed @143lele @ajybeo @teddywonss @nyfwyeonjun @alwayswook @shinrjj @manooffline @heavenhannie @bmnyy17 @jayujus

(bolded can’t be tagged)

want to be added into the taglist? just send an ask or fill up this short form here!

233 notes · View notes

annaloveshjp · 2 years

Text

ravioli shenanigans

harry potter x fem!reader

word count: 3.6k

——————————————————————————————

a/n: this is a little fake scenario I thought of a few months ago and I wanted to write it here.. the first 2/3 of this kinda sucks ‘cause I wrote it a while ago, but it gets better near the end. and I apologize for how long it takes for them to kiss LMFAO.

Info; Modern AU: Lily and James are alive, and Harry is an only child. Best friends to lovers. I imagined Harry in fourth year, but any year works. 2nd person POV. y/n is muggleborn.

warnings: phones and texting, some swearing, a kiss, and Harry being a teenage boy.

summary: harry is bad at cooking, and flirting.

——————————————————————

It’s summer break. It’s been a week since you got home from school and you’re lying in bed, watching YouTube, when all of a sudden you get a *buzz* from your phone.

You look up to the top of your screen to see:

[Harry: Y/N HELP ME]

Oh also, you were best friends with Harry Potter.

You had been friends since kindergarten when you saw him eating alone at lunch, so you decided to join him.

You walked into the lunchroom one day at school and noticed a boy your age eating alone with an interesting lunchbox, shaped like some sort of trunk.

You had never seen him before now, which was weird to you, but you decided ‘hey, why not make a new friend today?’

“Hello! I’m y/n, what’s your name?” you asked, walking up to the raven-haired boy.

He looked at you for a moment before quickly gathering himself and responding.

“Hi, I'm Harry. Did you need something?”

“No no I don’t need anything, I was just wondering why you’re sitting all alone?”

“Oh,” he replied, “well I guess I just- don’t have any friends to sit with.” he shrugged.

“Well now you do,” you said with a smile.

“Huh?” he questioned with raised eyebrows.

“Now you do. Unless you don’t want to be my friend? I can leave-“

“No no! Please stay, I will be your friend.” he says as the corners of his lips tugged into a smile.

“Oh good! Now-” you said, sitting down next to him. “Do you prefer ham and cheese, or PB&J?”

Furrowing your eyebrows, you click the notification to see what the hell he is doing.

————————Harry————————

Harry:

Y/N HELP ME

SO BASICALLY MY PARENTS

WANT ME TO MAKE DINNER

TONIGHT BUT I HAVE NO CLUE

HOW TO COOK ANYTHING AND I KNOW

YOURE AMAZINF AT LIKE- FOOD STUFF

SO I NEED YOUR HELP PLEASEEE

Y/N:

HARRY JEEZ

I THOUGHT YOU WERE DYING😭😭

Harry:

ok first of all- I’m the

boy who lived so that’s

not possible. second:

I might as well be dead cuz my

parents will kill me if i don’t

cook something that isn’t dino

nuggets. so will you help me or not?

Y/N:

okay fine, how

about I ask my dad

to buy something from

the store later? does

Cheese ravioli sound good?

Harry:

you are a lifesaver i

LOVW YOU! thank u 🙏🤭

Y/N:

love that candy

Harry:

😐😑😐

Y/N:

no need to blink

at me sir 🤨

Harry:

did you just call me sir 😳

Y/N:

yes.

Harry:

OK anyway- can you

come over at like 5:30

Y/N:

yes sir I will be there 🤫

Harry:

stop calling me that.

seen

——————————————————-

You snorted at his last text and set your phone down onto your nightstand.

Stretching, you get up from your cozy bed and make your way to the living room.

“Hey daaaaad?” You say, dragging out the ‘a’.

He hums in response.

“Could you get some cheese ravioli”

“Sure.” He replies.

“Thanks!” You say before running back into your room and texting Harry again.

-———————Harry————————

Harry:

stop calling me that.

seen

Y/N:

HARRY! he said he will

get some ravioli 🤭🤭

Harry:

brilliant! 😚 so

uhm when you get here

can you like cook it for me..

Y/N:

…babe, you’re seriously that

bad at cooking that you

can’t even boil some

pasta for five minutes??

Harry:

LEAVE ME ALONE😭

so yes you will be cooking it so

i don’t burn my house down

thank you I will see you at

5:30 💗

Y/N:

okay weirdo 🤨

seen

————————————————————————-

The rest of the day leading up to 5:30 was pretty boring.

Harry lived only a few houses down from yours, it was very convenient that he was within walking distance.

When you found out he didn’t live far, you were very happy, and you were surprised when you both found out you were both attending Hogwarts.

-flashback to finding out you were both wizards/witches.-

“Come on mum! I swear I just saw someone else do it, you just have to walk through this… wall.” You said to your mother with a mixture of confidence and uncertainty in your voice.

“Oh alright, but if I run into a solid brick wall, you’re making pancakes tonight.” she responded to you nervously.

The whole car ride to kings cross, you were sad that you couldn’t tell your best friend, Harry, that you were a witch.

-flashback-

“I’m going to this new boarding school, but I promise I’ll see you during summer!” You told him one day at recess.

“Oh that’s alright, I’m going to one too,” he replied.

“Oh good, I didn’t wanna leave you all alone here sad by yourself” you responded, smirking.

“Shove off Y/N,” he chuckled.

“Hey Harry?“

“Hm?”

“Promise me you’ll visit over the summer, alright?”

“Of course!” He said with a smile.

——back to kings cross——-

You grabbed her hand and dragged her along with you through the brick wall. You both expected to CRASH, so when you didn’t feel your faces slamming against it, you were shocked to say the least.

You open your eyes to see many families saying goodbye to their children, the latter of whom were pushing away kisses on cheeks.

You stare open mouthed at the sight before you: a beautiful scarlet train, people with trolleys running around everywhere. It was truly, magical.

“Whoa.” you said in awe.

—-timeskip to sorting—

“Bones, Susan” Professor McGonagall called out.

A little girl walked up to the sorting stool and sat down slightly shaking.

“HUFFLEPUFF!” The sorting hat announced a moment later.

She got up smiling and skipped over to the Hufflepuff table where every house member was clapping.

“Potter, Harry”

You froze and your smile faltered.

No way, you must’ve heard wrong right? or- there could be so many other people with the last name ‘Potter’ and first name ‘Harry’, there’s no way-

You let out a small gasp. Your eyes widen as you see that familiar color of raven hair walk up to the sorting stool.

Many others gasp with you, which you didn’t understand why. Do they know him too? I thought I was one of his only friends?

Anyway- you watch as he looks around the room anxiously waiting for the sorting hat to make its decision, trying to avoid eye contact with anyone (including yourself; he didn’t know you were there).

After a few minutes, the sorting hat called out “GRYFFINDOR!” and the whole gryffindor table applauded.

“We got potter! We got potter!” You hear two boys chant in unison at the table.

You continue to stand in shock as you process what you just discovered, you almost didn’t hear Professor McGonagall call out-

“L/N, Y/N”

Your eyes widen even more (if that’s even possible) as you make your way up to the sorting stool. You’re trembling.

You sit down, and immediately look to the gryffindor table to search for those familiar emerald eyes.

Once you and Harry lock eyes, his eyes widen with his eyebrows raising to the roof.

“Oh my gosh! What!” he mouths in your direction.

“I know right!” you mouth back to him.

After another moment, you and everyone in the great hall hears very loudly: “GRYFFINDOR!”

You smile big and make your way next to the only person you know—

“Y/N! Why didn’t you tell me you were going to hogwarts?” Harry asked you.

“Professor McGonagall told me I can’t tell anyone!” You replied.

“Right, forgot about that,” he said smiling.

Suddenly a boy across from you talk to you. “Hello! I’m Ron Weasley” he says smiling.

“Hi, im Y/N L/N, nice to meet you.” You reply.

You take a moment to let everything sink in.

You are a witch, woah.

Your best friend is a wizard, woah!

You go to the same school, woah.

Could life get any better?

—-end of flashback—-

After waiting for what felt like an eternity, you hear your father's car pull into your driveway.

You check the time [5:24] your eyes widen as you jump up from your bed and start getting dressed.

[5:26] You run out of your room and into the kitchen where your father has already placed the bag of ravioli on the counter.

“Thanks, dad! I’m going to Harry’s house for dinner, is that alright?” you call out to your father.

“Okay sounds good. And make sure you use protection—“

“Ew, dad! Gross.” you reply with a fake gag.

Your father loves teasing you about ANY boy you are friends with/talk to, and usually it’s Harry.

You grab the bag of ravioli and walk out the door. You quickly tie up your hair (if you can) and start your walk to his house.

It only takes about 3 minutes. You check the time while you walk up to his front door: [5:31] ‘okay, I’m not too late’ you think.

You open the door and put the bag of ravioli on the counter. Harry was home alone today since his parents went to some event you don’t remember.

“Honey, I’m home!” you call towards his room.

You don’t hear a response, so you kick your shoes off and decide to sit down at the kitchen island to wait.

You hear footsteps walking towards the kitchen as you look up from your phone.

“You’re late,” Harry tells you as he walks over to the island and picks up the bag of ravioli, examining it.

“Only by like, one minute,” you say, playfully rolling your eyes.

You look at him as he sighs very dramatically. He’s wearing black sweatpants, a white t-shirt and his hair is as messy as ever.

“Still technically late,” he says jokingly.

“Whatever. Anyways, when are they going to be home? Your parents, I mean,” you ask him.

“Uhh I think six. I thought thirty minutes would be enough time to set the table and make the ravioli. Was I right?” he says.

“Yeah that should be good,” you say.

You get up from the stool you were sitting on and make your way to the pots and pans. You come over to his house a lot, so you knew where everything was already.

You grab a pot and place it on the stove.

Looking behind you to see what Harry is doing (which should be setting the table), you see him just staring at you..?

“Harry, are you alright?” you ask him, “Unless you’re dying—which I highly doubt—could you start setting the table?”

“Oh uhm- yes ma’am.” he responds.

His eyes widen at what he just said but continues to wipe down the table.

Once you got the water boiling, you called Harry over to the stove to. . . Give him a ravioli tutorial.

“So first, when you put the pasta in, be CAREFUL—obviously—“ you say as you put the ravioli into the pot. “Then you wait.”

“Oh,” Harry said, “That looks easy.”

“Yes, which is why I don’t understand why you can’t do it yourself,” you say, turning to him with a raised eyebrow.

He only shrugs with a cheeky grin before he turns away to get drinks.

You narrowed your eyes at the back of his head, then turned back to the ravioli to finish cooking.

Once you both had the table set, ravioli cooked, and cleaned up from dinner making (which was not a lot), now all you had to do was wait for Harry’s parents to return home.

You both sat on the couch and went on your phones. Harry went to Twitter, while you went to TikTok.

As you were scrolling, you saw an edit of your celebrity crush. You made a squeal like noise and turned the phone to Harry.

“LOOK!” you say while giggling “OH MY G—“

“Yeah yeah,” he said, looking at you with concern. “You alright?”

You smile, “mhmmmm,”

Just as Harry was about to go back to his screen, you both hear a car pull into the driveway.

Looking at each other in alarm, you both jump up and sprint to the dining table.

Just as you both sat down, Lily and James entered and were hanging their jackets on their coat rack.

“I smell dinner!” You hear James sing into the house.

“And nothing burned!” Lily chimed in.

They both walk into the dining room and see you and Harry sitting down, apparently awaiting their arrival.

“We have a guest I see,” Lily says, smiling at you.

“As if I’m not always here,” you respond with a chuckle as you watch the both of them sit down.

“Looks good, Harry,” James says, looking at the perfectly good ravioli sitting on his plate.

“Thanks,” Harry grinned, sparing you an apologetic glance when James wasn’t looking.

You smile at him, nod, and mouth “you’re good,”

He smiles and looks back at his parents, as everybody starts to eat.

After dinner, you and Harry start to clean up.

“Hey Y/N?” he says, grabbing a plate and drying it with a towel.

“Hm?” you hum in response.

“Can you sleep over tonight?” he asks you.

“Oh uhm- yeah I mean, I probably can, I’ll just have to check with my parents.”

“Cool,” he says, giving you a smile.

You smile back at him. You two eventually finish cleaning up and you excuse yourself to the bathroom.

Sitting down on the closed toilet, you open your phone and message your parents.

————————Family————————

Dad:

Sounds good.

seen

Y/N:

Hey, is it okay if

I sleepover at Harry’s tonight?

Mum:

Of course. Just make sure

you get home safe and

at a reasonable hour. Love you.

Y/N:

Thanks! Love ya.

Dad:

Make sure to use protection!

Y/N:

Ugh, gross.

————————————————————

You roll your eyes before leaving the bathroom. You open the door to see Harry.

“What did they say?” he asks you eagerly.

“They said it’s fine,” you grin as he punches the air in triumph.

“Yes! Youu cann sleepoover!” he says in a sing-songy voice.

You laugh and follow Harry to his room. It was a bit messy, but since you always complain about how messy it usually is, Harry tries to keep it neat.

“I didn't bring pajamas,” you remember.

“You can wear some of mine,” Harry says, looking through his dresser and pulling out some flannel pants and a band t-shirt.

“Thanks,” you take them from him and walk to the bathroom to change.

After you’re done, you walk back to Harry’s room. You open the door to his room and—

“Jeez!” said Harry.

He was currently shirtless, holding the shirt he was about to put on, to his chest, covering what he could.

“How’d you change that fast?!” he asked.

“I was fast because I don’t check myself out before putting my shirt back on,” you joke, rolling your eyes playfully.

Harry went red. “I don’t do that..”

“Sure,” you walk over to his bed and sit down. “And I don’t care if you don’t have a shirt on, no need to be embarrassed.”

He turned to you and narrowed his eyes. “Or, you want to see me shirtless!”

“No,” you say, hoping you’re not blushing. “I just don’t care. Meanwhile, I do care if you see me without a shirt.”

He tugs his shirt on and sits beside you. “I do too, ‘cause that’s traumatizing,”

“Rude,” you say.

He looked confused for a moment before realizing, “No! Not because you look bad, just because it would be all panicky and I would run away and you would scream— what?”

You’re laughing. “I’m kidding, I know what you mean.”

He pushed your shoulder with his. “You suck,”

You stop laughing and look at each other for a moment, then burst into laughter.

“I don’t!” you manage through a laugh, “I’m a virgin!”

You and Harry were laughing even harder now.

“You don’t act like one,” Harry said, holding his stomach.

“Well, you do,” you catch your breath, still grinning.

“At least I’ve had my first kiss,” he says.

You glare at him. “Yeah, it was with me! In first grade, you twat,” you flick him on the side of the head. “So technically I’ve had mine, too… but I don’t like to count that one.”

He has a look of mock offense on his face. “Why not? Am I not good enough?” he sighs dramatically.

“Oh, shut up,” you smile with a playful roll of your eyes, and push him.

He looks at you, then gets up and walks to his desk. “Let’s watch a movie,”

A jolt of excitement shoots through you. “Oooh! Can I pick?” you ask.

He carried his laptop from his desk to the bed. He opened it and thought for a second. “Sure,”

“Thanks!” you give him a quick peck on the cheek and take the laptop onto your lap to look for your movie.

He blushes. You take no notice.

“Got it,” you say.

“What movie?” he asks.

“Captain Marvel.” you say as you both scoot into a more comfortable position.

You’re now lying on his bed, Harry next to you, arms pressed against one another.

“D’you want snacks?” he asks.

“I’m not hungry,” you say, “and I already brushed my teeth earlier,”

“Okay,” he pulls the blanket up to your torso and plays the movie. “I did too, but just wanted to check.”

You lean your head onto his shoulder. He leans his head onto yours.

Throughout the movie, you’d glance at him. A few times he was normal, but usually he looked deep in thought, maybe even contemplating something.

Halfway through the movie, Harry paused the movie and spoke up.

“Thanks for being here,” he says, barely above a whisper.

“‘Course,” you say, “thanks for having me,”

“No, I mean… thank you for being here, like, in my life.” he looks at you.

You look at him. Harry never usually talks seriously with you, this was different, but you didn’t mind.

“I could thank you for the same thing,” you say, “you mean a lot to me, honest.”

Harry closes the laptop, moves it from the bed, then hesitates. “Can I tell you something?”

You look at the now closed laptop, then back at Harry. “Of course,” you assure him.

“Promise you won’t get mad?” he says.

Sigh. “Promise.”

He took one of your hands into both of his and began to play with your fingers, looking down, his eyebrows furrowed in thought.

After a minute or two, he said it.

“I like you,”

You knew this was coming. In fact, you had been waiting, hoping for it.

You try your best not to smile.

“I like you too,” you look away from your hands and into his eyes. He was looking at you tentatively.

“You know what I mean when I say ‘like’… right?”

“I do,” you nod.

He scans your face for any sign of a lie. When he finds none, he asks you a question.

“Is this going to ruin our friendship?”

“If you don’t want it to, then no,” you smile.

“I don’t,” he says. Somehow Harry had slipped his hand all the way into yours, and you were now holding hands.

“I know,” you say.

“Can I kiss you?” he blurts out, going red.

“I don’t know, can you?” you tease him softly.

His face relaxed, and he let out a breathy laugh. “May I kiss you?”

“You may.” you say.

He looks in your eyes, then at your lips. The hand that wasn’t holding yours came up to rest on your cheek, softly holding the side of your face.

Your eyes flutter shut as your lips meet. You could practically feel the Sparks Fly.

Your empty hand reached up to the back of his neck, pulling him impossibly closer.

The taste of him was perfect. You could feel the love he was putting into this kiss; it meant everything to him.

The way he gently strokes your cheek with his thumb sends butterflies to your heart. And when you notice how gently he's holding you, you truly realize how much you mean to him.

You knew he was your best friend, and you knew you loved each other, but you never thought your love would end up like this.

You could’ve been there for seconds, minutes, or hours, you didn’t know and you didn’t particularly care. You cherished every moment of it.

You were the first to pull away for air. You open your eyes and see him looking at you like you were brand new. Like he could never get enough of you.

“Wow,” he says.

You look at him for a second before bursting into laughter. You tried not to, but he looked too cute, and the “Wow” set you off completely.

He laughs with you, still holding your hand.

“We’re so fucking stupid,” you say through your laughs, leaning into him.

“That, we are.” he says, holding you.

The night continued with kiss after kiss, each one as good as the last, and ended with Harry holding you in his arms.

Best sleepover ever. you think.

#harry james potter x reader #harry potter x reader #harry james potter #harry potter fluff #harry james potter fluff #harry potter imagine #harry potter x fem!reader

872 notes · View notes

woozivrse · 10 months

Text

Hiding the Truth, Pretending I'm Fine

Jeon Wonwoo x gn! reader

Genre: Hanahaki AU, college AU, fluff, usual angst that comes with the AU, happy ending!

Words: 4k and some change!

Warnings: vomiting, doctors, surgery mention(doesn't happen! don't worry<3), implied depression? reader feels down and i kinda wrote it in a way that it could be read as depression..., death mentions(one a joke at the start, and the other being apart of the whole AU thing..., cursing, my ocs Mai and Kimi(ok my friends oc...) use different pronouns, Mai(She/He) and Kimi(She/They), blood

Notes: sooo... if you've read this before you are either 1) a friend i had read this for school or 2) you are my old english teacher, in which, hi. why are you here. please leave. please. aka i am repurposing this for tumblr, because i am pretty proud of it, meaning please be gentle on me. i am just a tiny tiny child. but tell me what you think! tell me if i missed any warnings, and stuff like that! also, stole the title from bittersweet. you'll see why! enjoy<3

You had been in love with Jeon Wonwoo for who knows how long, but you hadn't known it. Until you started coughing. You wish it had been easier.

❀DAY 1, SUNDAY 8:30AM, YOUR APARTMENT

“Ooh my baby,” You cooed. “How's my little baby~ Hm? How are you Hoshi? What about you Byeol~~ Thank you for the gift~~”

Kimiko, your high school friend slash roommate, burst into your room. “Stop being a crazy cat person! Get up and out, Wonwoo is waiting for you,”

“Already? I just woke up–”

“Oh, no he's not here, here. He's just waiting for you like, in general y'know?”

“Die,”

“Not how you talk to your bestest friend in the world,” She pouted.

“That would be Wonwoo,”

“Bestest roommate in the world?”

“Mai.”

“Fuck youuuu,”

❀9:25AM, ROCKET CAFE

Sitting down, Wonwoo placed an iced latte in front of you. Every Sunday, the two of you met at either the library or the cafe to plan your week out together. This week was the cafe. He stared at you, watching you work.

“Stop watching me, creep,” you grinned, tapping your foot against Wonwoo. “C’mon, I know I’m pretty ‘n all but you really should stop staring at me,”

“So full of yourself,” He teased. “You’ve got something, here I’ll get it.”

You rolled your eyes at Wonwoo pretending to fix your hair. Always trying to “fix” something, your hair, your clothes. You knew you weren't a messy person. What you didn't know was why Wonwoo did it. Sighing, you just let him fiddle with your hair. As he did that, you stole his phone, unlocking it to check his calendar for the week.

“Boo,” you pouted. “We barely match up this month, outside of class. Look! We don’t match this week and next week we match once, on Friday night,”

Seemingly done with your hair, he checked your planner. “Oh, you’re right. Isn’t that during the get together Cheol is holding?”

“Oh I think it is,” you sulked. “No free time for just us! Oh I am in pain, jail for a thousand years!”

He chuckled. “It’s fine, we can sneak some time in,”

“Not at a Cheol party. I’m gonna be tipsy and you’re probably going to be on babysitting duty,”

“Babysitting you,”

Grumbling, you stood from the chair and fell onto Wonwoo's shoulders like a lump of nothing, smacking him a little. Vernon, your mutual friend who worked at the cafe, took a picture and sent it to their group chat without the two of you, followed by a text saying “yo right in front of my salad?”. The group chat exploded with messages with variants of “they’re seriously not dating?” and one text from Joshua, one of the other workers at the cafe, saying “get back to work!!”.

❀DAY 4, WEDNESDAY 12:30PM, ON THE WAY TO CLASS

This, you decided early on in your college days, was your favorite part of college. Walking with Wonwoo to whatever class you two shared, was great(unless the two of you didn't share a class, in which he would walk you to whatever class you had after the two of you had lunch).

You looked at him, seeing him staring at you, again. “Hey, what's with you looking at me so often, huh?” You raised a brow. “What, do you like me or something?”

He smiled, “Sure, something like that,”

Your face warmed, you could just feel the heat go to your ears.

You whipped your head away from him before saying. “Oh– oh just shut it! Don't even joke about that, Wonwoo!”

And then you started coughing, which granted, the weather had been getting colder, but you started coughing hard. Leaning down, you started coughing into your elbow before pulling away and seeing… petals? Bloody, purple flower petals. You quickly grabbed them before shoving them into your pocket.

Wonwoo put his hand on the small of your back, rubbing it. “Woah, hey, are you alright? Do you need water, anything? I’ll take you home if you need,”

You nodded, your throat still feeling a little raw. “Um… yeah, water would be nice, please,”

He handed you his water bottle, yours being at home. “Here, just drink from it. I’m fine without it for now,”

You sent him an appreciative look before downing the water. “Okay, I think I’ll be good for class now,”

He looked at you, obviously worried. “If you're sure… but I’m taking you home if you start coughing like that again,”

❀1:47, CLASS

You started coughing again.

There was no reason for it, you had just caught Wonwoo once again looking at you weirdly, causing your heart to flutter just a bit before you had berated yourself, thinking, Stop it, stop it! He doesn't like me…he just doesn't. And then the coughing happened again.

It had been so bad that the professor had stopped class and asked if you had needed to go. Wonwoo answered that question by grabbing your stuff and taking you out of the class. Oh well, you thought, Guess going to that class was for nothing.

Once you had finished coughing, you again found bloody petals. What the fuck…

“Hey, are you sure you're okay?” Wonwoo looked really worried now, placing a hand on your forehead, then cheeks. “You certainly don't seem okay, but you’re not warm or anything,”

You shook your head. “I think it might be the weather. You know I get a little iffy around this time of year,”

He hesitantly accepted your reason, knowing it was true, just usually happened later in the year. He shrugged his jacket off, placing it on your shoulders. “Well, keep this on until we reach your place, I don't want you actually getting sick,”

❀2:07PM, YOUR APARTMENT

Sitting on your bed, your eyebrows scrunched up before you sighed. Just, what was happening to you? Coughing up flowers– that's something out of a storybook, not real life.

Your heart fluttered when you thought about Wonwoo, but why. Why was your heart doing this, why, why, why. Wonwoo was so sweet to you, that's why, you reasoned. Right? You…didn't like him, did you? You couldn't.

You started coughing, again. Running to the bathroom, you knelt over the toilet.

❀2:34PM

Kimi sang. “Your favorite dancer is home~”

Kimi stepped into the kitchen, dropping her bag into the floor, before calling your name. “Hellooo?”

Silence filled the apartment, which left Kimi worried. Walking through the hallway, Kimi knocked on your bedroom door, opening it when no noise happened. Nothing.

“What the…” Kimi muttered. “Ugh, where’d I put my phone… dance practice you thot!”

Dragging herself back to the kitchen, she shuffled through their duffel bag. Calling your phone, rings came from the bathroom. Making her way to the bathroom, Kimi barged in. There you were, in all your shitty, sweaty glory was you, throwing up into the toilet.

“Fuck!” Kimi dropped to her knees, rubbing your back. “You should’ve told us you were sick. One of us would’ve stayed home for you,”

You whined. “Kimi… it’s fine both of you were busy, I couldn’t let you guys stay home. Besides, this happened during class.”

“The one you have with Wonwoo?”

Nodding, you straightened. “Mm… he brought me home,”

“What happened?”

“I… um… started coughing up flower petals…” You muttered.

“You what?”

Sighing, you reached your hand into your pockets and brought out the bloody flower petals.

“What the– Why are they bloody!?”

“I started coughing these up,” You started to explain. “Look, they’re in the toilet bowl too. I… I asked Sayu, before I went into the bathroom, she said they were bittersweet or something like that…”

“You should go to the ER! Or at least the doctor– you don’t know what this is,”

“I will, I will. I was going to call her after this whole…fit,”

❀DAY 6, FRIDAY 1:15PM, SEOUL DOCTOR

“So, what’s the reason for this appointment?” Doctor Kim asked, checking the files in hand.

“Um…so the other day, Wednesday, I uh… started coughing flower petals,” You explained, pulling the petals out. “They were um, bloody.”

Clicking her tongue, Doctor Kim examined a petal. “Oh dear…I see,”

“Why’d it happened? How’d it even get in my body?”

Doctor Kim sighed, pulling up an article on the computer in the room. “I’m afraid there’s not much research on this. I’ve never personally seen it but I know doctors who have diagnosed it. We’re calling it hanahaki, from the Japanese words 花 and 吐く, flower and to vomit. We’ve noticed that it’s from unrequited love,” she glanced at you and then the flower petals, “Do you…do you love someone? Do you believe they don’t love you back?”

You played with your hair, suddenly the floor looking interesting. “Um…I…I guess,”

“You guess?”

“I do. I…kinda just realized it and then spiraled for a little. On Wednesday, when I first coughed them up.”

“I see. I’m going to give you options and I will definitely push you towards a specific one. But I want you to know that it is entirely up to you, what you want to do,” sighing, she leaned onto her knees. “You could confess, and if your feelings get reciprocated the flowers will leave your body through a few days. If they don’t, then your lungs will grow with flowers faster and you’ll suffocate. If you do, come to the ER immediately.

“The last option is surgery, we remove the flowers and any roots in your lungs. But it’s a complicated surgery, and if successful you lose all memories of said person and you’ll never feel anything for them ever again. It’s a last resort for a reason, and if you even think they return your feelings, confess. I mean it, you need to confess.”

❀DAY 8, SUNDAY 11:37AM, YOUR ROOM

Laying on your bed, you pulled your blankets over your shoulders, tucking yourself in. Getting up seemed to take up so much more energy these days, it was so much effort, effort you couldn't seem to put in.

Your phone rang, and you left it. It stopped for a few seconds before ringing again. You sighed as it stopped again. It pinged a few times, two followed by one more before your phone silenced. You couldn't bring yourself to check, even though you knew it was Wonwoo, you set his notifications to have a special ringer. You were just… tired.

Nonu ❙

Hey, are you okay?

??? Hello??? You always answer, are you sick??

??? I’m coming over.

❀12:42PM

Wonwoo knocked on your door, before opening it. Seeing you still tucked into your bed confused him.

“I know I've asked this a couple times, but are you okay?” He sat on your bed, patting your leg. “Hello? Have you not woken up just yet?”

You hummed lightly. “No…I’m tired,”

He raised an eyebrow. “Do you want to be alone? You seem…well tired,”

You hummed again. He couldn't tell what you were feeling, facing away from him and barely saying anything.

“I’ll go, but I hope you feel better. I’ll get Mai and Kimi to take care of you,”

❀DAY 10, TUESDAY 11:23AM

Knocking on the door, Mai entered the room after a beat.

“You haven’t woken up yet?” She questioned, sitting on the bed. “You ok? I haven’t seen you wake up later than 9 since we were high schoolers,”

“Maiiii,” You whined. “I’m so TIRED, I can't even explain why!”

“The petals?”

“Of course, it's the– How do you know about them?”

He shrugged. “Kimi told me a little, sorry.”

“It's fine. I mean, you would've found out anyways,”

“Yeah, I would've. What happened, like why are they a thing? Kimi only mumbled something about petals and blood and purple– good color by the way,”

“I mean, the doctor said it's this stupid thing called hanahaki–”

“Like, hana as in 花, as in flower?”

“Uh, I think– STOP you're distracting me!” You jumped out from the covers.

“Yeah, but that got you out of bed. That was the goal~”

“You are the worst,”

Pulling you by the hands, Mai led you to the dining room.

“Our zombie lives!” cheered Kimi.

Flipping Kimi off, you pried yourself from Mai’s arms. “What was that for? I was gonna get out of bed eventually, it's only–”

“Only 11:23!” Kimi cut her off. “You are two hours late youngster!”

“To what?”

“To civilization! You have never–”

“Once woken up after 9, yes I am aware,”

“So you are aware we were worried, right?” Kimi huffed. “Now, eat! You are a growing child, no child of mine will starve!”

“I'm 20. We are the same age,”

“And,” Mai cut in. “I'm 21. I say you eat and get yourself freshened up. We are having a roommates day out,”

“What happened to my childhood friend,” you sulked.

“She has gone nowhere, I have always been your mother,” Mai chided. “Now eat, you actually look like a zombie,”

❀12:15PM, HALF MOON CAFE

“So, young child of mine,” Kimi started, placing the group’s order down. “Why have you been coughing up a storm, and why are there bloody flowers everywhere? You only mumbled something about them, and I want to know why!”

The three of them were in a small cafe they frequented often, mainly due to your part-time job there.

“Still can’t believe you guys got me here on my day off,” you sighed, playing with your drink. “It’s nothing. I already went to a doctor, she said it was ‘Hanahaki’ or something,”

“Hana as–”

“Yes hana as in 花, as in flower. Why did you both ask the same question?”

“I needed clarification,” Kimi shrugged. “But like, what’s the haki part? Like what even is hanahaki?”

“The haki is 吐く, like to vomit,”

“It’s a disease where flowers grow in your- in your lungs?!” Mai read from his phone, head whipping to you. “And you could die?”

“Not so loud– lord why did we go here,”

“I’m sorry– you’re upset I’m being loud? You could die, do not tell me to be quiet?”

You sighed, “Look, this is why I didn’t want to tell anyone! They get all dramatic, it’s not a big deal. It’s due to unrequited love, so all I have to do is unfall in love.”

“Uh, speaking as the person who’s in a committed relationship,” Kimi injected. “Impossibly hard. Like, I’m talking insanely hard. I mean–”

“We get it,” Mai said, cupping her face. “Look, it even took me a while to get over my first ex, and he stalked me! I’m with Kimi, there are easier ways to do this.”

“Except there’s not! It's either I unfall in love, confess, or get surgery! And, mind you, that surgery will remove all my memories of said person and remove all my feelings. It’s not like I can do that. I can’t lose someone I’m in love with– and I can’t lose my feelings! How am I supposed to live without being happy, or sad, or–”

“Then confess! They’ll reciprocate them, I’m sure.” Mai held your hands. “Please, I can’t lose you. We can’t lose you, you’re too important to us.”

“I am not confessing–”

“Confessing?” A voice cut in, Wonwoo. “Is that why you’ve been avoiding me?”

“Wonwoo! No, no! I haven’t been avoiding you, I’ve–”

“Been busy.” He rolled his eyes. “Look, if this was over some guy, you could've told me. I would've gotten it and backed off,”

You stood up. “It is not! Look, we went over schedules– we were both booked! You cannot say I have been ignoring you,”

“Does that mean you can’t answer my texts? Or calls?” He argued, walking away from you and out of the cafe.

“Oh don’t act like you don’t do the same to me. How come you’re acting like I’m doing it on purpose!” You followed.

“I haven’t ghosted you, never for days on end!”

“Oh sure,” You stopped and rolled your eyes. “I’m not arguing about this, not in public,”

“Oh so you’re running away, like always?” Wonwoo turnt around. “Like you always do when something happens, like the coward you are?”

Your eyes watered as you stumbled back like you were struck. “Fine! Yes, I’m running away, just like you said! Just like I always have, according to you, but don’t you dare try to come talk to me.”

❀DAY 13, FRIDAY 7:37PM, CHOI SEUNGCHEOL’S APARTMENT

You and Kimi walked into Seungcheol’s party, being eagerly greeted by Kim Mingyu.

He cheered both of your names. “Let me get you drinks, come in! I’m not allowed to help you with your coats, Cheol is worried about me breaking something again.”

Laughing, Kimi pat him on the arm. “It’s fine! I’m here to be sober, drunk watch and all that,”

“Mai forced her to be my babysitter,” You sulked. “Like I’m gonna get drunk off my ass or something…”

Mingyu and Kimi gave each other a knowing look. Like you hadn't been upset since the fight. Kimi pushed you further into the house, hearing the chatter of the others. Mai and Kimi figured it was best to get you to talk to someone, and what better way than to get her drunk with friends?

❀11:34PM

Bad idea. Mai and Kimi both forgot one important thing about a drunk you. You were an emotional drunk. Meaning, right now? You were sobbing your ass off, drunk, over Wonwoo.

Kimi could barely understand you because you were muffled by–

“Fuck,” Kimi muttered, launching herself towards you. “Spit them out, I fucking mean it you drunk fuck. Spit. Them. Out.”

You listened. Saliva and blood covered petals fell into Kimi’s hand. You fell into Kimi’s arms, still sobbing.

“He hates me Kimi! He does. He hasn't talked to me in 3 days! The longest we’ve gone is probably around a couple hours! Never this long,”

Kimi sighed, petting your hair. It pained them all to see her like this.

“He doesn't hate you, yknow,” Mingyu said, also patting you on the back. “He’s just upset right now. He’s probably also crying right now,”

“I don't want him crying over me!” You sobbed even harder.

Seungkwan hit Mingyu away, clicking his tongue. “Ignore him, Mingyu’s dumb. We know this. Wonwoo’s upset, but he’s not crying. He's probably thinking about what happened and trying to figure out how to apologize to you,”

“But he doesn't have to apologize, I was the one being a bitch!”

“All of you leave her alone,” Jeonghan swatted everyone besides Kimi. “Sweetheart, honey, drink this,”

He handed you a cup of water, urging you to drink. You tried to drink it, but instead a full flower came out of her mouth.

“FUCK,” Kimi shouted. “Fuck fuck- where’s their phone? Hurry one of you, give it to me!”

Kimi dialed your doctor, explaining that you had actually coughed up a flower. “C’mon hun, c’mon. Get up, we have to visit someone,”

“What's happening?” Mingyu questioned. “Kimi– what was that? Why did a flower come out of their mouth? Kimi?”

“Don't, don't worry. Just call Mai for me, tell her we're at the hospital. She’ll know why,” Kimi explained. “Sorry to bring the mood down,”

“Don't be. Now go, go! It seems urgent,” Cheol pushed the two of you out of the apartment.

❀11:48PM, SEOUL HOSPITAL

Your doctor sighed, closing the door behind her and facing Kimi and Mai. “I’m to assume you two are their roommates, meaning they told one of you at least a little?”

“Uhm, yeah,” Kimi fidgeted. “She told me a little, just like, uh she was coughing flowers cuz of something called hanahaki? Uhm.. and that it was a disease caused by–”

“Unrequited love, yes. However, that’s not something we’re entirely sure about,”

“What do you mean, not entirely sure about? Did you tell her something incorrect about a disease that could kill her!?” Mai shouted.

“Yes and no,” Doctor Kim sighed. “Look, ladies, hanahaki is rare– we’re not sure about everything. But, there's a theory, that I have personally searched into, that it’s not unrequited love. More like, insecurity in the afflicted. The flowers, do you know what they are and what they mean?”

“Oh! Uhm, I think I remember our friend saying they were bittersweet? And that they meant truth? Truthfulness?”

“Then, there. They likely need to tell the truth, if the theory holds up. Either way though, one of you should get whoever they’re crushing, or in love with, here as soon as you can. I will make an exception for you three, and only you three, to be here after hours if they have not gained consciousness. The other should stay with them. I don't want any surprises,”

❀11:57PM

“Where are they!?” Wonwoo bursted into the hospital lobby.

Ignoring the onlooking staff, he went straight towards Mai.

“Mai, you cannot call me, say my best friend is in the hospital, and then not give me context,” he said, holding the dead tired girl by the shoulders.

“You hung up on me right after I said they were here! I’m not calling you back and getting you into an accident– we do not need that! Now, come. I'll bring you to them, your job is to get them to actually tell you the truth. I don't care what it takes, they have to.”

Leading the barely taller man, Mai opened the door to your hospital room. Pulling Kimi out, Mai quickly pat you on the head with a quiet, “Confess,”

“Wonu?” You croaked.

“Hey,” He sat on the edge of her bed. “What happened? Why are you here– why have you been avoiding me? I thought we told each other everything,”

He looks heartbroken, you thought, heart clenching at it. “It- it wasn't your fault, Wonu. I just- if I told you, I’d lose you. I can’t do that,”

“But you're here, in a hospital. Mai said you could die. Why do you think I can live without you?”

“I-”

“Please. You’re my best friend, I can’t lose you,”

Bursting into tears, you sobbed. “Exactly! I’m your best friend, that's all I’ll ever be! Wonwoo, have you ever thought I wanted to be more than friends with you?”

“Wh–”

“It’s you, it has always been you! I just had a shitty way of finding out, and now I’m dying! I don't want to die. I want to live out my life with you, and Mai, and Kimi, and and just– everyone! But if I get the surgery I lose my best friend– the love of my life! It's either I lose you by confessing, or I lose you by forgetting you, or I lose everyone by dying! I don't want this–”

“Hey, hey,” Wonwoo wiped the tears from your face. “Who said you’d ever lose me? Remember, I will always be here for you. Always. Besides, I’ve loved you ‘since forever’. You have nothing to fear,”

Your eyes overflowed with tears, and your mouth, flowers. Calling a doctor, Wonwoo was quickly kicked from the room. Worried, he quickly walked to the lobby.

“Wonwoo!” Kimi exclaimed, bouncing anxiously towards him. “Where- where are they? Why are you out here?”

“Well, I got kicked out. We confessed but then they started coughing again and–”

“You finally confessed? Like, for real none of that ‘I love you, as a friend’ bullshit?”

“Yes– why is that what you're focusing on? They started coughing flowers again, Kimi,”

“I know, I know, but I’ve been waiting for this since I met you two. That was our first year of high school!”

“Stop fighting you two,” Mai butt in. “What happened? Why are you out here?”

❀DAY 14, SATURDAY 12:21AM

After explaining everything, the three of them went to hunt Doctor Kim down. Meaning, they were waiting outside of your room.

Walking out of your room, Doctor Kim turnt around and jumped. “Oh, you three scared me. Sorry, sorry. I should’ve told you to go home. But, they're fine. They’re resting now, you can visit when the hospital opens up again and you can see them then,”

“We can’t leave her!” Kimi whisper shouted, still aware of the fact that you were likely sleeping.

“No, you can’t but you will. I understand you’re scared about them, but they’ll be fine. They’ll have to stay here for another few days, but it’s just so we can monitor them. You can visit, but only during visiting hours. Now shoo, you are college students here on a Saturday,”

❀1:19PM, YOUR HOSPITAL ROOM

Wonwoo walked into the room, with a bouquet of aster flowers. Chuckling Wonwoo put them on the bedside table.

“Sorry, I know it’s a little soon,” Wonwoo sat. “but I asked your friend, um, Sayu? She said you thought they were pretty, the flowers, that is. Aster, she called them.”

You laughed softly. “It’s ok Wonu, they’re lovely. I love them, thank you,”

He smiled. “I’m glad. I know we only just established everything but I want to ask, can I be your boyfriend?”

You laughed, and Wonwoo pouted at that. “Sorry, sorry I’m not laughing at you. Never at you. Yes, of course you can be my boyfriend. Why’d I ever say no, I don’t know.”

THE END<3

109 notes · View notes

ure-a-sunflower · 1 year

Text

Truth, Dare, and Jealousy

Written by ure-a-sunflower

Eddie Munson x reader!all genders (Stranger Things fanfiction)

This is my first time publishing any of my work since I really wanted to gatekeep this stuff to myself. I’ll be honest, I wrote a lot of Eddie fan fics so I’ll see how this one turns out. Please be nice, I beg of you. I just did this for fun back in August of 2022.

CONTENT WARNING: alcohol consumption, mentions of smoking, some swearing, NO SPOILERS

Word Count: 3k

Eddie knew well that you hardly expressed crushes on real life boys aside from your beloved fictional characters. He was fine with that, honestly, because competition with some actually-not-real man that was good as paper and had as much depth as a kids blow up pool was nothing too personal for him. It was probably the dark brooding charm female authors would win you over with or the romantic promises these guys had that were downright unrealistic.

Regardless of that, you and Eddie connect really well and while he didn’t want to admit it, he was starting to develop feelings for you.

(Rest of the fic is below the cut)

This was kinda bad. You had only joined Hellfire a year ago and you got to Eddie real good. The other boys didn’t see it as much, but the way you both would squeal and jump for joy when you would come up with campaign ideas and talk about the most recent news of D&D… he never thought anyone else was like him. That was probably the first time he actually noticed you way past being a member of his club. Sure, you weren’t the biggest metalhead like the others, but when he saw you singing along to Black Sabbath and Iron Maiden in his van, he thought he was hallucinating.

But he was the group’s dungeon master and you weren’t held on the same freak level as him. You still hung out with your other best friends and your choice of aesthetic only dabbled in a bit of punk when given the chance. He thought you looked gorgeous when you would mix both. And considering how good you both got on already, Eddie was afraid he’d ruin what was between you. He couldn’t bear making it awkward.

At the end of a long week before a big school break, Eddie invited you to his trailer to hang out. The other Hellfire members had plans, which left the both of you alone.

“Truth or dare?” Eddie asked, while offering you another shot of the brandy. You downed it after swiping it from his hands and wiped your lips with your shirt. “Um, truth. Got nothing to hide.”

“Uhhh, alright.” Eddie leaned back to think. What useful information can he get out of you? He practically knew everything about you since you act like an open book around him. “Okay, I got one.”

“Shoot, Munson.” You didn’t like the clever smirk on his face.

“Who do you think is the most attractive member in Hellfire?”

Damn, you didn’t expect him to enter that territory. Eddie only took up your offer for a drinking game because you were getting sick of him being short of a human smoke machine. You weren’t planning to confess your stupid little crush on him that you’ve had for months now. What would he think of you?

“Wow, uh, you really wanna know?” you laughed it off awkwardly. Eddie noticed your uncomfortableness and chuckled. “I mean, you can answer my question or pick a worse dare, honey.”

God, his stupid nicknames. He wasn’t tipsy like you at the moment because unlike you, Eddie wasn’t a lightweight. “Let me hear the punishment then. I’ll consider my options.”

“That’s so against the rules but since you’re my favorite, I’ll tell you… I dare you to run around the trailer park, naked, and singing.”

“Eddie!” you yelled. “Are you trying to have fun or have me admitted to the nearest psychiatric ward?!” Soon, he was rollling on the floor, laughing. You couldn’t even bring yourself to imagine what you’d look like. Sure, you’d do anything for Eddie Munson, but that? You’d have to pass.

“So, ‘most attractive member’ then? Come on, sweets, we don’t have all night.”

“But won’t that sound like I’m attracted to them?”

“I mean, maybe. Be as objective as you want.”

You gulped. You really didn’t want Eddie to assume you had a crush on him but you also didn’t want him to think you had one on another Hellfire member. The least thing you’d want him to do is tease you with someone else. On top of things, inflating his already big sarcastic ego would end you.

“Um… huh, that’s tough…” You put your chin in your finger and thought hard. None of the freshmen were on the table. Jeff is sweet but he wasn’t your type— he was more like a brother to you, anyways. Last person left…

Everyone in Hellfire wasn’t afraid to admit that Gareth was handsome. Sure, he still had the baby cheeks and freckles from middle school, but you think his hair is really cute and fluffy even way back then. You always went out of your way to point that out and he’d blush super hard. He also gives you the best hugs, rivalring Eddie’s. Gareth is sweet and nice to you in and out of school, opposite of Grant and Eddie who are total pranksters. You have a soft spot for the guy. If only you weren’t so close with Eddie, you’d probably be fully head over heels with Gareth already.

You took a deep breath and shook your head in between a chuckle. “I guess I’m gonna go with Gareth.”

Eddie’s heart kinda stopped. Gareth? Gareth Emerson? He was already planning in his head how he would react when you’d say it was him. Ready to thank you and graciously shower you with praises while you roll your eyes and tell him not to take it too personally. That’s kind of why he asked the question, if he was being honest. He wanted to hear it from you.

You always loved teasing and calling Eddie your “pretty boy”, playing with his hair and braiding it whenever you both hung out. Once, you complimented his doe eyes while you were both out and about, and Eddie never forgot that moment since. It was the first time anyone has really noticed his features like that. The first time you met him, you even said his style was cool because he looked like a certified rockstar. But you thought Gareth was the most attractive when you were both alone right now? Seriously?

Eddie figured he’ll need to down a whole bottle and smoke himself to death once you go home. Then he just got more worried.

Why did he react that way?

“Eds, you good?” You waved a hand in front of his face as Eddie snapped out of his thoughts. You waited for his response after he kind of just blanked out.

He regretted asking you for the truth now. Should’ve just gone with like ‘what’s your go-to ice cream flavor’ or ‘who’s your favorite dungeon master and rockstar whose name starts with an E and rhymes with teddy’. Now, he just felt like some pathetic loser pouting because he didn’t like your answer. God, he felt like a stupid middle schooler all over again.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m alright.” He looked like he snapped out of his trance but his eyes look everywhere but yours. His hands seize the bottle and he downs some. “So, uh, Gareth huh?”

Completely oblivious, you giggle and shove his shoulder. “Don’t tell him I told you that. Besides, I only see him as a close friend.” You better, Eddie thought. You noticed the tension in Eddie’s jaw and put a hand on his thigh to calm him down. It only had the opposite effect. “Hey. Something’s bothering you, I can tell.”

“It’s nothing. Why did you choose Gareth?”

The way he so quickly changed the subject didn’t slip past you. But you figured it wasn’t worth pressing on more. “I mean,” you scratch your neck, “he’s really sweet and it’s no secret that he’s got good genes.”

Eddie’s eyebrows only furrowed. The grin of disbelief on his face looked less amused and more annoyed.

“Really? I mean, am I not sweet? It’s gotta be the hair, isn’t it?”

You tilted your head in confusion.

“Eddie… are you… jealous?”

You thought he was gonna have a whiplash with the way he snapped his head towards you. “What did you just say?” Despite the utter confusion in his face, you knew he heard you. You smirked and continued.

“Are you jealous of me saying Gareth’s attractive?” His poor best friend Gareth, having no idea that Eddie’s currently dunking his head in a barrel of water in his mind. How dare he look attractive to the person he’s had the biggest crush ever on. Now, they’re onto him.

Playing dumb was his only option. “No, I’m not. Why would I be jealous? Don’t be ridiculous. I’m teasing you about this!” Air quotes and all, you saw through his façade. The defenses were raised and you could tell Eddie was lying. His ears were a brighter pink than before and though you were tipsy, you still had a strong intuition that you just made your best friend envious. The alcohol in your system seemed to not only fuel your courage but also your audacity. You leaned in to mess with him further. “I just figured, y’know, since you reacted when I said that.”

“I did not react.” Such a child. You wiggled your eyebrows.

“Sure…” An idea popped in your head. “Then, you wouldn’t mind if I asked Gareth out after break?”

Eddie thought he was going to faint. Or combust. Whichever was faster.

“Are— Are you fucking serious?!” Eddie jumped in his seat, accidentally banging his knees on the table and staring at you like you’ve grown another head. You were laughing at this point, clutching your stomach and throwing your head back. If only Eddie didn’t hear your previous words, he would’ve thought you looked like a pure angel. But he was genuinely shocked.

“Munson, what has gotten into you?! I’m only joking!” Eddie’s been having heart attack after heart attack with each sentence you uttered. He didn’t know if he should be relieved or pissed off at you. “You really don’t like me going out with him, don’t you? Well, I know how much Gareth means to Jeff. Can’t get in the way of the most legendary bromance in Hawkins.”

Eddie slapped a hand over his face and groaned. He opened his mouth to say something when you beat him to it. “Or does it feel incestuous to date someone from Hellfire? I see why you’re so protective of them. I kinda see the boys as like my brothers—“

“Just shut up!” Playing cards, napkins, plastic forks— they scattered from the table to the floor as Eddie frantically attempts to quiet you. You stopped and stared at him. Usually, you would shrink away and tear up when someone raised their voice like that at you, but you knew Eddie would never mean you any harm. But then again, this was a first. And he sounded so serious.

After no one still said a word, you coughed and decided to change the topic. “… A-Alright, um, that’s enough truth or dare for one night.”

When you were about to leave and walk yourself home, because you were too tipsy as hell to even bike, Eddie insisted you stay. You gave up arguing with him when nothing could convince him to leave you there in the streets all by yourself. He couldn’t drive you either because he was slightly high, never wanting to lose his van because of a DUI arrest, and casually admitted that he won’t be able to sleep knowing you weren’t safe.

You were quite basically trapped in his arms as he cuddled you on his couch.

It was a compromising position, really. You never figured Eddie to be the cuddlebear, but the way he clung onto you was like you were going to disappear from his hands. To make yourself comfortable, you cuddled into him, placing your head on his chest, and Eddie’s heart melted at your gesture.

Your head in his chest, his legs over yours— he was going to be so pissed at himself in the morning.

He knew what he was doing but also not. So did you. This was how lovers would hold each other. It just felt right to be in the other’s arms and not care about the world, a crazy and cruel world. Yes, you were both good friends, but this was just you guys testing the waters of your friendship. No romantic shit. It was just two tipsy best friends cuddling closely on the couch, a thriller movie in the background as soft rain pattered outside. Super platonic. Yep.

You were drifting off to sleep time and time again because of how good of a white noise the TV and rain were, and Eddie couldn’t help but notice. However, he had something bothering him that he had to bring up to you before you start dozing off and become knocked off cold. He couldn’t wait until the morning to tell you since he knew well he’d chicken out again. Perhaps he invited you to drink some alcohol so he could finally confess using liquid courage, and in the case if you’d reject him, he’d just blame it on being drunk. Perfect foolproof plan.

“Hey,” Eddie whispered your name by the shell of your ear. You stirred from your sleepiness and turned up to him. “Hey, um… I’m sorry if I, uh, made an outburst earlier.”

It wasn’t easy to decipher what this was all about, especially when you were half-asleep and in the midst of sobering at this point. “For what? About Gareth? Don’t worry, I know we were being stupid.” You still didn’t understand why he made such a fuss, but you were just trying to move on from the situation. Nevermind figuring out his reasons. Your heart was pounding miles a minute. You were holding your crush like you were partners, and you wanted to be out of there and in between his arms more than ever at the same time. It was worth cherishing this position before you two part in the morning and just pretend nothing happened.

Eddie hated that you said his name again. “Yeah… I just…you know… I guess I was jealous.”

You took a pause to digest what he said. “You were? Oh, Eddie, I know I said Gareth but you’re still the pretty boy! I mean, you know I love your hair and your eyes—“

“No, it’s not that I’m jealous of Gareth’s looks.” Eddie took a deep breath. Yours hitched, waiting for his next words. He tried to look into your eyes but you could see them shaking and he kept averting your gaze. “I… well… shit. H-How am I gonna say this….?”

“… Yeah?”

“I-I got… I got jealous… that you like him.”

At this point you were grasping at sticks. What did that even mean? Was he jealous of the attention? Of your feelings? That another guy was held in a position higher than Eddie Munson, Hellfire’s Beloved Leader? It was starting to get annoying.

“Eddie, we’re so close and we’ve been great friends since I’ve known you. Fucking hell, you’re our Dungeon Master. I know you and Gareth are like brothers and I get it if you don’t want anyone dating in the club. You’ve got nothing to worry about just because I think he’s got looks—“

“No,” he shook his head, finally demanding your attention, “like, I like like you. I have feelings for you and I want to be with you. As your… boyfriend.”

You were certainly stunned.

Maybe you just waited and pushed for him to say it, but you still couldn’t believe it. Did Eddie just confess he liked you? First? You wanted to soar and you felt like you could touch stars. Holy shit. You wanted to pinch yourself to make sure you weren’t dreaming. Was it the alcohol that made you like this?

“…And I know I sound stupid or selfish but I guess I have to make my moves now since you want to ask Gareth out.”

Your mouth was still gaped wide open as Eddie continued rambling about how much he liked you. “—like we were alone in the drama room one night while cleaning and we danced to that stupid jazzy song you put on like my parents used to when I was a kid and I didn’t know it at that time but I think that’s when I realized I was falling really badly for you—“

You had scooted your way towards him the entire time he was going on and on, fully facing his direction, and took his hands that were wildly gesturing the entire time. “Eddie.”

“—because you’re just so nice and understanding and patient with me a-and— huh?” He was staring at you like a baby deer in headlights as you cupped his cheek. You could feel the warmth as his eyes widened. “I really like you too. I’ve fallen in love with you for months now.”

There was just silence. Silence on your end because you can’t believe you’ve finally said that, and Eddie was shortcircuiting with the words you’ve said to him. He had to repeat them in his head to make sure they really meant what he was thinking they meant. “You… You really—? But Gareth—“

“I only said Gareth because I didn’t know if I should confess I like you. I’ve had a crush on you since sophomore year.”

“You liked me for that long?! Wha— Wait, I, oh gosh so you actually like me?”

“Eddie, I want to be yours. I love you. I really do.”

That was the happiest he’s been in forever. If he had to put it in words, it felt like someone lit a firework and his heart was fizzing around the room.

Pulling you to him, he mumbled a “may I kiss you?” and you nodded eagerly. Eddie placed a hand below your chin and locked his lips with yours passionately, absolutely savoring this moment because he’s been waiting for it for sleepless nights and hopeless daydreams. It was finally happening.

He whispered in between kisses, “I love you so so much” which made you giggle. “I can’t believe I have the best, kindest, and hottest partner in all of the world.” When you rolled your eyes, Eddie shook his head disapprovingly and kissed you once again until you were literally gasping for air and telling him “okay! Okay! I believe you! Gosh, I love you so much, Eddie!”

At the next campaign, it was no doubt a surprise to Hellfire when Eddie suddenly announced you were his partner the moment you walked in the door.

#eddie munson #joseph quinn #stranger things #eddie munson x reader #stranger things 4 #gareth emerson #eddie x reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie fluff #stranger things fanfiction #eddie #hellfire club

128 notes · View notes