#so maybe by the time Chapter 6 comes out I can pair him with my SSR Dorm Azul and just murk my way through | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

catsteeth · 6 months

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The Caged Bird and The Leashed Dog

Sandor Clegane x reader

+:✿ Chapter - 6 ✿:+ Free Fields

1-2-3-4-5-_-7

Summary: You are the daughter of Jon Arryn, you and your father travel to King's Landing with the intention of arranging a marriage for you. You catch a glimpse of The Hound during your first night in Kings Landing and it creates a mutual fascination even if he won't admit it.

CW: ALL SMUT MDNI, afab reader, virgin reader, P in V sex, oral sex (mutual), fingering, unprotected sex (wrap it up cuties), creampie, angst, emotional unavailability, emotional vulnerability, The Hound being abrasive, mention of death, blood, threats of violence.

A/N: I am posting early this week, giving the girls what they want in one long smut scene. Everyone say thank you Bambi.

Word Count: 3467

You had ridden most of the night, but once the daylight began to rise in the sky you felt sleep take you. Sandor tied Lika to Stranger and Sandor held you as he rode. You insisted you didn’t need the sleep but he insisted in the opposite direction. He’d ridden most of the day holding you against his chest, wrapped in his cloak.

You’d woken up in the forest. The light that peaked through the gaps in the leaves of the trees above you began to shine in your eyes. A cold breeze traveled through them, waking you up even more. You looked to your side through half open eyes. You sat up quickly, realizing you were laying on the soft grass alone. You looked around and saw Sandor was watering the horses, and you were wrapped in his cloak.

“‘M right here.” He said looking over his shoulder at you then back to the horses.

You looked around and never felt so alone, there was no one for miles. But again you never felt so free.

But you couldn’t help but feel somewhat awkward. You’d never been alone with Sandor like this. There was hardly any chance of anyone stumbling upon you, your time was not limited, and now everyone must have known. Known that he took you with him.

You sat up and held your knees closer to your chest, you noticed how the red gown the Lannisters had made for you was already wearing thin, the fabrics tearing slightly. You ran your fingers over the ruined fabric over your knee. You noticed the pattern of the fabric was lions and roses. As your fingers ran over the lion's tail you couldn’t help but feel a pit in your stomach.

Tyrion.

You didn’t love him, that was true. But you were fond of him. And maybe at some point if you were married you could have. He wasn’t like his family, and he tried, he really did try to make your cage a comfortable one. But he did not open that cage for you, he didn’t even seem to want to. Sandor did.

Sandor looked over his shoulder at you again, noticing you examining the fabric.

“You can’t wear that out ‘ere.” He said gruffly as he stood and walked towards Stranger.

You looked confused,

“Somebody comes along and see’s you in that bloody thing you know what they’ll do?” He asked, as if he was testing you. Wanting to know just how cruel you knew the world could be.

“Something like those men during the riot did.”

“No.” He huffed while rummaging through the sattles bag “No one’ll ever touch you like that again.” He said pulling out some clothes and walking towards you, “But they’ll know who you are. Where the fuck you came from. Lannisters would find us faster.”

“You don’t think they’ll know who you are?” You asked as he handed you the clothes,

“You can change that fuckin’ dress but I can’t change my face now can I?” He said in a gruff voice that you ignored as you looked at the clothes. There was a white cotton tunic, a thick gray wool sweater that was like a dress on you. a pair of tall black leather boots, a thick black leather belt with a satchel attached to it, and a pair of dark brown trousers that were too tight for you but would have to do.

“where’d you get this?” You asked looking at the clothing,

“Stole it, while you were sleeping.” You looked up at him with a look of surprise “They didn’t want them, fucking left them outside.”

“Were they on a line?” He didn’t respond to you, just stared at you with guilty eyes, “They were hanging to dry. You can’t do that.”

“I’ll do what I have to, for you.” he whispered that last part, “You’re very kind. That’ll get you killed out here.” His voice was hardened and cold, “Change.” He said walking back to the horses by the river.

You shrugged off his hardened words. running your fingers through your hair. You realized how dirty the journey had made it. Not to mention the dirt that had gathered on your hands, feet, and knees.

Your eyes wandered towards the river, the water rushing looked inviting. You looked around, there was no one, at least for the next thirty miles. Then you looked back to sandor who was tending to the horses, he was strangely attentive and fond of the horses. It made you feel warm inside, seeing him be so gentle, after you’ve seen him kill and maim men for little reason.

You stood, as you did you began to remove your gown, Sandor could hear the fabric of your gown being discarded. He pretended not to notice it as he kept his back turned.

Your gown fell around your feet as you stepped out of it, your underclothes with it.

You walked towards the river, you dipped your foot in the cold water. It wasn’t like the warm baths in lavender oil that you were used to. But it was what you needed. The water was much deeper than you expected.

You plunged into the cold waters, let yourself stay under the water for a moment. The coldness of the water surrounded you, like it was holding you. It reminded you of the cold winds of the Eyrie. Before you could daydream even more you were pulled out of the water by your arm.

You gasped for air as your head finally reached the surface.

“Fuck are you doing, girl?” He barked at you, you pulled your arm away,

“I was dirty.” You said with a smirk as you were catching your breath.

“Er clean now, out.” He said pulling your arm again but you pulled away and out of his grasp. He huffed, you noticed that he was still covered in blood, it was faded but it was still there.

“You’re still all bloody.” You said and he tisked at you while he pulled on your arm again. “Stop it.” You said pulling your arm away before swimming closer towards him. “Come here.” You commanded softly. With a gruff sigh he gave in, kneeled towards you. You wiped the blood from his brow, his cheek, then his scarred cheek. When you touched it he winced a little. “Does it hurt?” You whispered, he shook his head.

“Are you finished?” He rasped, you nodded. He stood and walked back and away from you. “Get out of there before a man comes along.” He rasped once again, as he sat by a small fire he’d built. No doubt with a great deal of courage, he mainly built it for you.

So you did as he said, you climbed out of the water, you threw on your under clothes to cover your nakedness, though your body was still so wet the clothes became almost transparent. Sandor looked back at you while you rang out your hair. He’d seen you naked before, but this felt all the more intimate. The glamor had worn off, and you were reduced to skin and bone. Not a noble woman but a human. Your cheeks felt red and you looked away, but you felt his gaze linger.

“Dress yourself.” He commanded in a growl “If a man comes,”

“There's no one for miles.” You interrupted him, walking towards him, your hair still dripping wet.

“Stubborn girl.” He growled as he drank water from a flask, pissed that it wasn’t wine. But you continued your steps towards him. You knelt by his side and began to undo the clasps of his armor. He grabbed your hand “Fuck are you doing?”

“You’re covered in blood, your armor- it’s covered in blood.” You said but he didn’t let go of your hand “We can’t attract attention like you said. You being covered in blood would attract just that.” He let your hand go, and you continued. Undoing each clasp until he was left in his tunic and slacks.

You sat by the river and washed each piece with your hands, taking small amounts of water and rubbing it onto the silver armor. Making sure not too much water touched it, you didn’t want to ruin the material.

Sandor watched you as the sun began to set, it made him think about what he offered you in your room the night of the battle of Blackwater. He’d build you a home. And he would. He thought of you washing clothes in a river like what you were doing now. He thought of sharing a home with you, not a grand one like the Eyrie but a small home made of wood and stone. He thought for a moment of you carrying his babe. But he was not one for chivalry, tradition, or ceremonies. But he wasn’t one for love either but here he was.

You walked back with his armor, the fire illuminated his face handsomely, you tried to put it back on him but he took it and placed it on the ground. His eyes softened strangely, but his face was still in that scowl he always had. He placed his hands on your hips and his eyes ran over your body.

“If another man saw what I am looking at right now, I would kill him.” He grumbled.

“How many men have you killed?”

“Killed my first man when I was twelve. I lost count since then.” His voice was cold, and his eyes reached yours searching for any ounce of fear. Finding none. “I don’t frighten you?” He barked as if he was trying to frighten you, trying to get you to come to your senses.

“Never.” You spoke softly, your soft words always gentled the rage within him. He felt so much for you he almost resented you for it.

He grabbed you by your jaw, “Have you ever made a man feel this way before?” He growled,

“I don’t know.” You said, still not scared of him, you knew he’d never harm you.

“I know you have. How could any man not? I know that Imp, he wanted you.” his voice was so low it rumbled in his chest.

“I never felt love for him, nor lust.” You spoke softly, his grip on you loosened.

“What of that pretty boy,”

“Loras?”

“Aye.”

You let out a small giggle at the thought of Sandor being truly jealous of Loras, a man who couldn't love a woman. “Rumors of Loras are true. He did not like the touch of a woman.”

“He was a cock sucker?”

“Stop that.”

“What, you love him do you?” His grip tightened once again but still not hurting you.

“Not the kind of love you mean.”

“You said you promised someone you love to take the Eyrie. Who?” He growled, you knew that this was the only way he’d be able to tell you he loved you. By interrogating you on who you loved.

“My mother.” His grip loosened completely, “And my father.” His hand began to rest on your neck, “I promised my mother on her child bed, to keep her house safe, and her son safe. I failed at one I can’t fail both.”

“Oaths and promises are for cunts.”

“You’ve sworn a promise to me.”

“Aye.” He said, his eyes scanning down your body once more.

“What are you looking at?”

“The fuck do you think I’m looking at.” He rasped as you noticed his hooded eyes lingering on your breasts, hardly covered by your soaking wet under clothes. You pulled the top half of your under clothes over your head. His eyes snapped to yours.

“You’ve never been fucked by a man?” He rasped, he knew you hadn’t, he knew you’d already told him this, but he needed to be sure. You shook your head. “Never had a man's fingers in your cunt?” You shook your head again, “Never had a man’s tongue in your cunt?” He rasped,

“Only yours,” You whispered. Those words only encourage his throbbing cock.

“You sure you want this?” He grumbled, his large rough hands going to your breasts. They were rough and almost hurt by how course they were. They were so large that they engulfed your breast completely. Your mind then turned back from that to the question he asked,

“I am.” Your words are soft and sweet.

“Lay back,” His voice dropped and rumbled in his chest, it made you clench your thighs together. You laid back as he asked you. You laid back on the green soft grass. As you did he pulled his tunic off and over his head. He loomed over you, his hands ran from your jaw, to your sternum, to your stomach, to your pelvis. He toyed with the fabric of your under clothes covering your sex.

“You can’t take it back.” He rasped. You nodded, and you pulled your under clothes down and over your knees, he took them off from there.

He positioned himself between your legs, and leaned down. He kissed you deeply. Sucking on your lips as if they tasted of wine. His rough hands roamed your body, they were so rough they almost scratched at your skin. You moaned into his mouth as his hand found its way to your cunt.

His large middle finger began to play with your clit. His finger circled your clit a few times then teased your entrance, just a little, adding some pressure then going back to your clit. Your sweet moans only encourage his throbbing bulge in his trousers.

Your hand gripped a chunk of his hair at the back of his head, deepening your kiss. Your other hand roamed his back, littered with scars.

He kissed down from your jaw, to your neck, to your collar bones, your chest, breasts, nipples, stomach. He sucked and bit at your side making you jump a little and mewl. He continued on and kissed your pelvic mound.

He lifted your legs up and over his shoulders, kissing your inner thighs and biting them gently. The feel of his beard scratched at your thighs. Your back arched at the feeling.

Finally, replacing his fingers with his tongue. He licked at your sensitive clit, sucking on it, and biting on it lightly, enough to make you moan his name, which in turn made him moan into your cunt. The vibration of it made the sensation all the more pleasurable.

At this point you were soaking wet, you heard lude sounds from him, a mix of growls and slurping.

You gripped a handful of his hair again scratching at his scalp.

His fingers returned to your cunts entrance, not fully entering it, just applied pressure teasing you horribly.

He kissed your swollen clit and came up for air, He looked at your cunt, empty but clenching around nothing at all. It drove him mad, as he looked up at you, you looked down at him. “I’ll be gentle, but it’ll hurt.” He said with a low raspy voice.

You nodded, “Please,” you whined.

He kissed your inner thigh as his thick ring finger began to enter you. Your back arched and you let out a groan as you threw your head back. It burned a little, and the pressure was uncomfortable, and yet felt so good. His finger continued inside of you, and his eyes watched you making sure you didn’t want it to stop. Then you felt him hit something, it made you wince. He stopped,

“Take a deep breath, little bird.” He said oddly gently. He sucked on your clit as he continued and you felt a snap inside of you, it hurt,

“Nmph!” You groaned, let out a sharp breath.

“It’s alright now, it’ll feel better now.” He said moaning into your cunt.

And he was right, the pain and the burn stopped, and was replaced by pleasure. You moaned as his finger pumped in you over and over again. He added another finger as he sucked on your breasts. You held his head and kissed the top of it whilst he did so.

He pulled his fingers out of you and sat up on his knees. You sat up as well.

Your eyes looked at his fingers, covered in your slick mixed with blood. Your cheeks lit up red with embarrassment.

“It’s alright, little bird. I fuckin' love it, you've got no fucking idea how long I've wanted to do this to ye.” He comforted you, you weren’t used to it. You tried to ignore your embarrassment and focus on what you wanted. You started to undo his trousers, he didn’t stop you this time. You pulled his trousers down with some resistance from his large cock. Once you got them down his cock bounced up, standing straight. You looked up at him waiting for any resistance, met with none once again.

You took his cock in your hand, it made your hand look so small in comparison. He let out a deep groan, which only encouraged you more. You kissed the side of his cock, and kissed your way to the tip. You licked at the precum that was seeping from his tip.

It was salty and bitter but you couldn’t get enough. However, that was his last straw. He pushed you back onto the soft grass and pulled your legs around his waist. He kissed you, tasting himself on your tongue as you tasted yourself on his.

He lined himself up with your soft, warm, and soaking wet entrance. He slowly pushed his way inside of you. You both let out a loud moan, but you tried to cover your mouth, not wanting to risk others in these forests hearing you. Sandor wouldn’t have that though. He grabbed your wrist and pulled it away from your mouth,

“Don’t you fucking dare. I want to hear all of it.” He growled at you, “I’ve waited too long to hear it.”

“What if someone hears?” You tried to say without moaning but failing miserably

“I’ll strangle them with their own guts.” He said like an angry dog, “I’m the only one who can see you like this, hear you like this.”

He pushed further and further into you until he hit your spongy cervix, making you almost scream out in pleasure. Sandor gritted his teeth and he shouted “Gods!... (Y/N), you feel so fucking good!” as he slammed his lips onto yours kissing you with a hunger you’d never known. He let himself warm inside you for a moment, letting you get used to the stretch.

All the things you’d heard about sex finally made sense. The pleasure of it, and the pain of it. But you never knew how fulfilling it could feel. How the satisfaction would feel within you. You hadn’t even cum yet but you were a woman happy nonetheless.

He began to move again, in and out of you pumping. You gripped the grass at the sides of your head. As he pumped in you your breasts bounced, his eyes couldn’t stop but admire your body. Every inch of it unique to you and you alone. All those whores he paid who looked like you weren’t like this. They didn’t feel as good as you did, they didn’t fit around him the way you did.

“I’m not ‘urting you am I?” He asked through gritted teeth, you shook your head as you moaned loudly, “Good.” He said as he pumped harder and faster. He leaned down more and ravaged your breasts, you knew there would be marks on them tomorrow. His hands gripped at your hips so tightly you knew there would be marks there as well.

“Take it, take it, take it, take it-” He grumbled into your neck over and over again.

You felt the pressure in your belly tighten, you knew you were going to cum. “I feel ya’ tightening around my cock, do it, cum around my cock.” He said into your ear as he nibbled at your lobe, then moving to bite at your jaw.

“Fuck!” You moaned loudly, “Sandor!” You yelped as you felt yourself cumming all over him.

His arm wrapped around your waist tightly pulling you up and close to this chest. While his other hand held your jaw in place, having you look him in the eyes.

“Cum in me,” You pleaded breathlessly, his eyes widened, he couldn’t believe that you’d ever want him to do such a thing. It pushed him over the edge and he didn’t have time to question if it was truly what you wanted as he melted into you.

"(Y/N)!" He shouted as you felt the hot ribbons of cum filling you deep inside of you. His grunts were like war screams, as if he were impaling a man with a sword. In a way he was. It out of nowhere made you cum again, pushing some of his cum out of your cunt, overflowing around his cock still in you.

As he collapsed beside you, and you both laid there naked covered in sweat in the cold air. You tried to catch your breath.

“(Y/N)” He said in a husky growl you could hear the rumble of his tone, you turned to look at him. “I would die for you.”

NOTE:

Hi girlies. I made this with the intention of making it just one scene in a multiple scene chapter but it was already so long and we have a lot more to get to so enjoy this little freebie.

Also I am working on a new series, might take a min tho so I am not going to announce who it is about but it is also GOT related.

Also also double points for anyone who caught the Laufey lyrics

My Beloveds: If you want to be added to the tag list comment telling me so!

@dontfollowjuststuff @helpmeescapethisreality @merfic

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1989tvcore · 5 months

Text

tied by music. - charles leclerc. chapter one.

summary; in which a songwriter gets in contact with the il predestinato to help her in creating her most personal album.

face claim; taylor swift

pairing(s); charles leclerc x fem! singer! reader, zayn malik x ex! fem! singer! reader. smau.

warning(s); toxic/unfaithful relationship, reader in a very bad mental state during break-up but she’s eventually healed, zayn is the douchebag i sincerely apologise. </3 (most of these are shown in the following parts)

author note; can we please um… ignore the fact that um… this is literally the script for my um… fame dr… ANYWAYS HERE’S COMPOSER CHARLES TO COMFORT YOU! 🤍 this series will have many parts or maybe just two, we’ll see how it plays out.

masterlist | chapter 2

english isn’t my first language, credits to rightful owners.

popbase

liked by y/nayncrumbs, ynphobic and 45,771 others

popbase Song-writer & Musician Y/N Y/LN & former One-Direction & Musician member Zayn Malik have officially broken up after 6 years of being together, TMZ reports.

tagged: youryusername, zayn

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user6 oh that y/nayn stan account must be crying now that the rumors are confirmed …

y/nayncrumbs user6 i literally just turned suicidal.

ynphobic y/nayncrumbs u know damn well this was long due …

user47 user6 can you blame them?

user58 THANK GOD, that man was insufferable when it came to their relationship

user13 user58 silent like

user0 user58 do y’all ever shut up

user58 user0 just wait until y/n releases a new album x

user99 NO PLS SAY SIKE RN

user33 user99 YES PLS DO I CAN’T HANDLE THIS I’M IN CLASS

user13 user99 girl she’s free???

user1989 wait a sec … remember when we got y/n6 rumors a few months ago?? DID HE CHEAT?? ZAYN IT’S ON SIGHT.

user17 user1989 they might’ve just not announced it when they actually broke up 🤡

user1989 user17 they were spotted together multiple times during y/n6 rumors and he was literally ignoring her while talking to models???

user16 why is nobody mentioning how charles leclerc has literally been helping y/n to make y/n6???

user55 user16 same question right here.

user4 user16 how do you know it’s for y/n6?

user16 user4 y/n has mentioned multiple times that she admires charle’s music and would love to work with him on a project of hers or his

user77 user16 Y/N IS A F1 GIRLIE??

user16 user77 since she was a child 🤧

yourusername just posted a story!

seen by charles_leclerc, oliviarodrigo and 1,403,758 others

user1989 GIRL WE KNOW THAT’S CHARLES’ KEYBOARD

user13 this album will break us all so bad.

user16 hi pls attend the next grand prix tyvm

charles_leclerc you must be in jail for not sending me the first picture.

yourusername charles_leclerc surprise? 😁

charles_leclerc yourusername yeah yeah whatever now send me the picture so i can make it my wallpaper 😌

charles_leclerc just posted a story!

seen by yourusername, f1, landonorris and 997,410 others.

user1989 SHUT UP IT’S LITERALLY THE SAME KEYBOARD

f1wagsource soft launch, no?

user65 CHARLES HERVE PERCEVAL LECLERC IS THIS WHAT I THINK IT IS.

yourusername no bc i’m literally announcing our baby tomorrow

charles_leclerc yourusername I know 🫶🏻

yourusername charles_leclerc i’m so nervous

charles_leclerc yourusername there’s no reason to be nervous sweetheart. whatever happens I’m here.

yourusername charles_leclerc stop being such a good boyfriend you know i’m not used to men like you 😔

charles_leclerc yourusername I really don’t plan on stopping anytime soon cherié.

yourusername charles_leclerc please do not! i love you 💞💓💕💗💝💘💖

charles_leclerc yourusername i love you too babe, now go rest you’ve got many promotions starting tomorrow.

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, arianagrande and 13,400,239 others

yourusername Surprise surprise! The first single of my new album “Metanoia” (coming out April 23), “we can’t be friends (wait for your love)” comes out tomorrow evening!

Thank you my whole team for making this album possible. I’m so grateful for all the wonderful and talented artists who took part in the creation of “Metanoia”, truly couldn’t be more lucky to have people like you by my side. Whether that is as colleagues or friends. In addition, there was one special someone who took HUGE part in writing, composing and producing this album with me, someone who I have very close to my heart. @charles_leclerc, the man, the monegasque himself. Thank you for agreeing to helping me bring into real life my deepest emotions and thoughts, you stood by me during very hard times in my life, I will always be thankful for that. Studio sessions with you are my only good memories of the hell I’ve been through last year.

And to the fans, thank you for supporting me always. I hope you’re excited for this project as much as I am. See you tomorrow for the premiere of the “we can’t be friends (wait for you love)” music video!

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arianagrande congrats!! can’t wait to listen♡

liked by author

yourusername arianagrande my girl 🤍

iamrebeccad can’t wait for tomorrow 🥰

liked by author

yourusername iamrebeccad love you so much. 🥹💗

francisca.cgomes album of the year already

liked by author

yourusername francisca.cgomes tearing up, thank you so much kika. 🥹🤍

lilymhe so in love with you! 💗

liked by author

yourusername lilymhe my #1 gf 🥹💞

alex_albon lilymhe excuse me?

rachelzegler I THINK I’M CRYING??

liked by author

niallhoran Congrats sis!

yourusername niallhoran Thank you Niall! 🫶🏻

user29 niallhoran oh zayn fucked up big time

user32 niallhoran THEIR FRIENDSHIP IS EVERYTHING

ynayncrumbs niallhoran oh it’s really over.

user1989 DID I ACTUALLY JUST MANIFEST Y/N6????

user13 user1989 OH MY FUCK YOU DID

user45 user1989 I think you graduated from tom holland manifestation university!

user16 WHERE’S THE TRACKLIST??

user88 user16 she’ll probably reveal it later

user99 EVERYONE SHUT UP NEW Y/N MV TOMORROW!!?!?

user30 user99 I’ve got a feeling it’ll have a love interest

user99 user30 SAME

charles_leclerc So proud of you! ❤️

liked by author

yourusername charles_leclerc Thank you Charlie! 🥹

ynphobic charles_leclerc I think I’m not breathing anymore.

user49 charles_leclerc I’M CRYING TEARS OF HAPPINESS.

landonorris having early access to this album: it’s good ig…

yourusername landonorris did you think the same when you were crying to the whole tracklist?

landonorris yourusername YOU DID NOT.

alex_albon landonorris get ended nowins 🤣‼️

landonorris alex_albon FUCK YOU

user11 I’M LITERALLY CRYING BC WDYM CHARLES ALMOST GOT A PARAGRAPH DEDICATED TO HIM??

yourusername user11 he deserves it more than anything. 🤍

taglist; @formulaonebuff @ironspdy @sleepybrokenmelle @dreamergirlatpaddock @taygrls

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gguk-n · 5 days

Text

Chapter 2- Unspoken Yearning

Accelerating Emotions (Oscar Piastri x Reader)

Series Masterlist

Summary- Oscar is becoming painfully obvious that he loves Y/N. Even Lando is sick and tired of him. Y/N's having some weird feelings. She's always been clumsy but these strange occurrences have her heart beating really fast.

Y/N was busy talking to her brothers and Oscar's sisters when she heard that familiar voice. He sounded much more older and mature. She turned around to look at the boy who was sounding a lot like a man and maybe he looked older too, she thought. Their eyes met and she smiled at Oscar. She hadn't seen him in ages; he sounded more mature, even hot if it wasn't weird to call her brother's friend hot, he had lost his cute cheeks that she loved pinching, his hair was just as fluffy as it used to be and the closer she got, she realised he had grown quite tall, almost half a foot taller then her. "Hi Oscar" she greeted him with her hand out; Oscar's eyes were wide and he was staring at her. She looked beautiful in the midi skirt and top she paired with a cardigan since the weather was cooler lately. Her eyes were still as warm as he remembered, her nails were neatly manicured. "Is something on my face?" she asked now self conscious. "Nothing" Lando answered, "I'm Lando" he added. "I know, I'm Y/N, a friend of Oscar's" she said. "Oscar never told me his friend was this pretty" Lando said. Oscar saw Y/N tuck her hair behind her ear while a blush graced her cheeks. "Everyone's here Oscar, you should go meet 'em" she called out as Lando walked away with Y/N.

Oscar walked towards the group to greet everyone while he could see his best friend shaking his head. "Why are you shaking your head?" Oscar asked. "Nothing, it looks like Y/N might ask Lando out if he compliments her one more time" Ansel pointed out. Oscar couldn't let that happen, he hurriedly walked towards the pair, "umm....Y/N...Ansel was calling for you and Lando we need to go see the engineers, they asked to come at this time" Oscar said looking at his watch, dragging Lando away. What a close call Oscar thought. Y/N walked back, looking visibly confused when Ansel denied ever calling her.

Oscar was starting the race at P16. It was like the good old days when Oscar used to kart; his cheerleaders were all present to cheer him on for the first time in a really long time. This was a special race for Oscar, since it was his home race. He ended the race in points for the first time in his Formula One career. He couldn't have asked for a more momentous feat. He was so excited getting out of the car. After the weigh-in, interviews and celebrations; Oscar was back in the hospitality greeted by his family. Everyone congratulated him and you could hear the cheering and hooting coming from the group.

Both the families were headed out to dinner to celebrate Oscar's first points in Formula One. Some how, Oscar likes to thank God who was looking down on him, maybe he pitied him but right now, Y/N was sat next to Oscar, he could feel her leg brush past his as she tried to pour herself a glass of water. She handed Oscar a glass too, "Loosen up, Champ" she whispered patting his shoulder. Oscar tried to relax but he literally couldn't, not when she was sat next to him. After exchanging life updates and ordering their food, everyone was talking amongst each other leaving Oscar to talk to the person next to him. He was about to open his mouth but Y/N beat him to it, "Why'd you tell me Ansel called back when I was talking to Lando? I was gonna ask him for his number" she told Oscar. That's exactly why. "I didn't know that. But I really thought he had called you. Anyways how's work?" Oscar asked trying to change the topic. "It's been great. I used to wrangle the 6 of you, I think I can handle pre-school children" she told him. "I helped you wrangle them" Oscar interjected. "Debatable" she said. "I always helped" he tried to reason. "Honestly, you listened to me the best. So, yeah, you did help" she replied thoughfully. Oscar felt like she was talking to him like one of her students. "You're talking down to me" Oscar whined. "God, you still as cute as before" she said ruffling his hair. "I'm not cute" Oscar groaned. "Sure sweetheart, whatever you say" she chided. But Oscar's cheeks were heating up, Y/N had never called him sweetheart even to tease him, he could get used to this, he thought.

The dinner ended with Nicole asking Oscar to drop Y/N off at home since she had come with them. Oscar didn't mind getting to spend some alone time, or so he thought. Poor Oscar was sweating bullets as the AC was blasting in the car. Y/N raised her hand to his forehead at the signal; "Do you have a fever?" she asked. "No" Oscar replied pushing her hand away. "You're sweating a lot" she said now taking a handkerchief out to dab his forehead. "You sure?" she asked again. Oscar caught hold of her hand and brought it down from his face, now looking into her eyes. "I'm not sick and stop treating me like a kid Y/N. I'm almost 22 in 4 days" he remarked. Y/N felt weird, the eye contact, his hand on her wrist and the way he was looking at her. "Sorry" she apologised and freed herself from his grasp and turned to face ahead before Oscar released the clutch to move the car.

The rest of the drive home was quite, Y/N's mind was everywhere; the whole while she stole glances at Oscar and his veiny arms, she quickly caught herself. Y/N had a whole internal monologue going on; 'I've been single for over a year. I've not felt the touch of a man in so long. I've not been dicked down either. I'm probably ovulating. There's no way in hell do I find that scrawny pale boy hot' she reasoned. She got out of the car, greeted Oscar good-bye. Oscar just smiled, "Won't you invite me for tea or coffee?" "It's almost 10, you won't be able to sleep if you drink coffee" she reasoned. "It's rude not to invite your guest in" Oscar expressed. "You're not my guest" she began but as she saw a pout form on Oscar's face; "You know what, I have some Jasmine tea. Come on" she offered. Oscar smiled so big, the street light seemed dim.

The two entered the flat, Y/N throwing her stuff on the sofa. Oscar started walking around looking at all the decorations and pictures on the wall until one caught his eye, a picture of Oscar and Y/N, no one else. "You have a picture of me" Oscar pointed out, holding the photo with a smile. "Yeah, I didn't have any with you other than that. I have pictures with everyone here" Y/N said while heating up the tea. Oscar took a picture of the photo frame; this might have made his day more than the points today. Y/N was busy putting stuff away when she knocked over the hot kettle, tipping all of its content on her hand. "FUCK" she screamed as the boiling hot liquid made contact with her hand. Oscar blotted from the living room into the kitchen on hearing the commotion. "That's gonna leave a mark" he said while quickly turning the tap on and placing her hand under cold running water. "You should be more careful." he told her. "that's gotta hurt" Oscar mumbled to himself. Y/N was staring at Oscar, her hand didn't seem to burn as much under the water but Oscar's hand were warm and big; one of his hand was enough to wrap both her hands, his eyebrows had creased in concentrating, had he always been like this? After a while Y/N slowly took her hands our from the running water, "I'll be fine Oscar. Stuff happens" she told him. "I'll make the tea, go and take a seat. You have ice in the freezer, right" he asked. She nodded at him and Oscar grabbed a cloth and bunched up a few ice cubes and placed it on her burnt hand.

Oscar made the Jasmine Tea with a few instructions from Y/N and the two sat in silence drinking the tea while Oscar placed one hand on the make shift ice pack. Oscar cleared the cups and offered to buy her medicines. "I'm fine Oscar. You should go." she said. "I just feel bad about leaving you alone" he expressed. "I can manage. Don't worry about me. Spend some time with your family" she told him pushing him towards the door. "Do you not like having me around?" Oscar pouted. "You're a joy to have around, more than my own brothers some times, but your parents miss you. Spend some time with them. Okay?" she said. "You're talking to me like I'm a toddler" Oscar whined. "I'm talking to you like your best friend's sister" she stated. "Are we not friends?" he asked. Y/N sighed, "yes, we are friends Oscar. I'm saying this as your friend, spend time with your family. They miss you." she clarified. Oscar smiled. "I don't want us to be friends for long" he mumbled exiting the house. Before she could ask Oscar what he meant by that, he had vanished.

On Oscar's birthday, everyone had come over and he had the biggest celebration he had in a while. The cake was from the local bakery that Y/N had picked out. Oscar doesn't remember what everyone got him but he remembers what Y/N got him and it was a hand knit sweater with a 'happy birthday Mr 22 years old' note which made Oscar laugh. When Ansel saw the sweater, "You got the better one, mate. I've been receiving all of her prototypes" he said. "She made this?" Oscar asked. "Yup, she's been knitting people gifts since she became obsessed with knitting. Reminds me of my grandma honestly" Ansel replied. Oscar was going to cherish this gift for the rest of his life. This was gonna be the family heirloom he passed on.

Oscar didn't get to spend as much time with Y/N as he hoped since she was busy with work. But something had changed in him; he wanted to be hers. Ansel left for university since he had taken a few days off to see his best friend race. Oscar was now stuck with his family for the next few days; Y/N would pop in to help his mum around the house and Oscar would only see parts of her because some how in his house, she was the busiest person. She would leave soon, saying something about her mum needed her home too. On the day before Oscar was supposed to leave, Y/N came over and was stood on the step ladder changing the bulb. Oscar was walking by when he saw the step ladder wobble and Y/N lost her footing. Thankfully Oscar was there to catch her; "Are you okay?" Oscar asked worry written all over his face. Y/N on the other hand, her heart was beating really fast, probably from the fall. Oscar's chest was firm and warm, he was toned, she thought. His arms were strong, he was literally carrying her. She gulped hard before nodding. "Why would you do this alone?" Oscar asked annoyed. "I usually do this alone" she replied barely above a whisper. "What if you got hurt?" Oscar groaned. Was he always this hot angry? Y/N thought. Her priorities were truly in a very strange place. "Please don't do anything that would get you hurt" Oscar begged. "Oscar, you drive F1 cars for a living. I was just changing the bulb. I should be the one saying that to you. Now if you'll put me down, lemme clean this mess." she stated. "No" was all he said before carrying her away from the broken glass of the bulb and cleaned the place and also changed the bulb.

Oscar was back to racing. But this time, no matter what he did, he couldn't forget about Y/N. He couldn't stop wondering if she was okay or if she got hurt. Not like he could call her every day and ask. So, Lando now had to deal with a pouty Oscar who would only ask the most random questions like do you think you can hurt yourself if you trip on something? the answer was yes. Or do you think you can cut yourself while cooking? also yes. Or are there any household chores you wouldn't risk hurting yourself? sadly the answer was no. Lando was so confused, he felt like he had an annoying toddler following him around suddenly. Everything started to make sense when he saw Oscar staring at a picture on Instagram. On close inspection, Lando realised it was Y/N, Oscar's best friend Ansel's sister. His teammate was a goner, Lando thought patting his shoulder. "Mate, stop staring. You'll burn holes through your phone" Lando chuckled. "I'm not staring" Oscar said while scrolling away. "Sure" Lando began, "I finally get all the weird questions you've been asking me" Lando finished. "What do you mean?" Oscar asked. "You're worried about someone rather someone special?" Lando teased.

Lando was good at making people crack or was Oscar itching to talk to someone about his love for Y/N, we will never know. It was like a dam broke inside Oscar who started talking about Y/N morning, evening, day and night. Lando was getting sick of it; he wasn't sure how many more weekends he would last before he told Y/N that Oscar was in love with her. In their driver's room or their hotel rooms, late at night, as Lando's eyes would be closing from the tiring day they had; Oscar would be describing in painful detail how Y/N's hair looked in different seasons of the year. Lando was sure not even documentaries put him to sleep faster than Oscar did. One night, annoyed and tired, Lando interrupted Oscar, "Just tell her already mate. I think I'll be able to profile Y/N in my sleep at this point" Lando whined. Oscar's eyes widened. "Sorry" he mumbled. "I'll head back to my room" Oscar walked towards the door dejected. "Also ask her the fuck out mate. It's about time. The worst she could say is no" Lando called out. To Oscar the worst that could happen was, he lost his found family. It was scary and Oscar wasn't sure he could go through with asking her out even though he wanted to.

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back2bluesidex · 3 months

Text

Where Do Broken Hearts Go - Chapter 7- Finale (18+)

Pairing: Model, ex-boyfriend!Jungkook X Child psychologist, Fem!Reader X Lawyer, Single Dad!Hoseok.

Summary: Jungkook stripped your emotions naked, left you bare in the chilly wind of despair and self-doubt with an unending heartache. You tried your hardest to move on from him, to live for yourself but failed miserably. Each night you had to come back to your empty home where memories and broken dreams were scattered all around the floor, until one day a little angel and her unbelievably beautiful father came into your life. Finally, when you find yourself healing, maybe falling too, Jungkook had to show up! Again!

Theme: Angst, pining, heartbreak, break-up, smut

Warnings: some explicit smut, Jungkook being immature, a little time leap, a fairy tale ending. NSFW!!!

Word count: 5k+

Taglist requests are closed.

Minors and karens are not allowed in this blog

A/N: Guys, we have come to the end. ngl, I am emotional and sad and not ready to let them go yet. but it's been more than 10 months since I started this series and it's the right time to end it. Please let me know about your thoughts in the comment section or in my askbox. More notes at the end.

Main Masterlist

Chapters:-

Prologue/Masterpost || Chapter 1 || Chapter 2 || Chapter 3 || Chapter 4 || Chapter 5 || Chapter 6 || Chapter 7 - Finale

There is a lot in Jungkook’s mind.

He has been trying to calm himself down, trying not to think about you and focus on Jiwon but he has been failing terribly.

The person he thinks of (or misses) mostly during all of his waking hours is, you.

He knows he has been a dick to you. He borderline stalked you, invaded your privacy, riled you up and tried to justify his actions even when he should be the last person to do so.

But he couldn’t help it.

He still can’t. Just the thought of you belonging to someone else other than him drives him insane.

Something shifted inside of him after that night. Something shifted so terribly that now he is questioning his life choices.

He is questioning if he really fell out of love with you or not? ‘Cause if that was the case, his blood wouldn’t boil when your special client almost kissed you.

Also, he wouldn’t walk up to your door and start questioning you as if he still has some kind of rights over you.

So, what is it?

Why does being with Jiwon never seem to be as exciting as it was with you? Why does kissing her never ignite that insatiable hunger you could induce with your lips? Why can’t he picture a future with her like he used to daydream with you?

Why?

He misses you! Fuck! He misses you!

His eyes crave for your one sight, his skin wants your touch, his ears are dying to hear you call his name once.

He doesn’t realize when he starts crying silently.

He takes a hold of his phone and opens the gallery. Scrolling through the application he looks for the evidence of your once in-bloom relationship.

But he finds none.

There is not a single photo.

No photos from Jimin’s show two years ago, no photos from the last picnic of you two, no photos from the jeju trip, no photos with your parents. Not a single one.

He frowns at that.

He very certainly didn’t delete a single file. Then where are those memories?

“Kook, can you drop me off at the set?” Jiwon speaks from behind the couch.

He doesn’t pay attention at first, his fingers work vehemently scrolling up and down on the device.

“Kook!” she almost screams now.

“What?” Jungkook screams back.

“What are you so busy with that you can’t even hear me out?”

“My photos-” Jungkook starts speaking but he stops immediately.

He never locked his personal phone with a password or whatever, so it remains accessible to almost everyone. Given the fact that he mostly uses his work phone, this particular device stays at home, unlocked.

“Did you.. Did you go through my phone?” he asks finally.

Suspicion takes over his mind when Jiwon doesn’t say anything for several seconds.

“I asked you something, Jiwon.”

“Why? Is there something wrong?” Jiwon raises one of her eyebrows.

“You know exactly what’s wrong, don’t you?”

“I don’t think we should be having this conversation now-” “Why did you delete her photos? Who the fuck gave you the right to?”

Jungkook yells at the top of his lungs, taking Jiwon by surprise.

“What do you mean I don’t have the right? I am your girlfriend and she is your past, Jungkook! You’re supposed to let her go! Why are you still looking at her pictures?” Jiwon screams back, by the time her sentence ends, she is crying.

“Because I love her. Yes! Yes, I still love her.” Jungkook yells as if he is realizing the words himself and not just telling Jiwon for the sake of it. The realization hits him like a truck.

“What? What are you-”

“I thought I liked you, Jiwon. But it was an illusion. It has always been her. I never felt for you as intensely as I felt for her.. I feel for her. I- I’m sorry. This is so fucked up! I am sorry to both of you. I misjudged my feelings and now-”

“Stop it! Stop it! I can’t hear it anymore. Let’s take a break, Jungkook. Let’s take a few days away from each other. It will be fine. It will be fine.”

Before Jungkook could reply to her, Jiwon runs out of the door.

He knows he is the main culprit here. He hurt you both. But he also knows nothing can be fine anymore. Not at least between him and Jiwon.

About you though, he can beg you until you take him back.

You still love him after all. Don’t you?

Jungkook feels nauseated as the scene unfolds right in front of him.

He has come to beg you. He has come to tell you that he would do anything for you to take him back, he even lied for you to open the door. He did all of these only to have you turn your back at him.

You tell him it’s too late but he is adamant. He silently promises himself that he will win you back but just then his eyes fall on the purple bruises littered all around your throat.

You look like someone has been kissing you breathless.

His heart drops at the thought. But he consoles himself, tells himself that you still love him and only him.

But his fears take shape when a male voice speaks from the dining place of your once shared apartment, “Didn’t you hear what she said? She asked you to leave, Mr. Jeon.”

Jungkook’s blood starts boiling when he sees it’s the guy from the other day. Your special client.

So you are most definitely sleeping with him.

“And who are you to come between us?” he grits through his teeth. Everything he sees is red.

“I am her boyfriend.” the man replies as he comes to stand between Jungkook and you.

Jungkook chuckles evilly, “No. You are just a rebound she is using to get over me.”

Jungkook expected the man to retort, to have a crack in his confidence but he only smirks, “I think you are confusing reality with your fantasy, Mr. Jeon.”

The older guy gives him a flashing smile and continues, “you know her better than me. Do you really think she will be using someone for her own needs and benefits?”

Jungkook’s heart breaks further.

He knows you are definitely not a hypocrite. He knows if this guy is in your house, calling himself your boyfriend then he is your boyfriend.

But he is determined to fight until he can’t anymore.

He will be fighting until he wins you back.

He diverts his attention to you again, “Y/N please-”

“Jungkook.. Now is not the right time. Let’s talk. Let’s talk things out but not now. I will text you the time and place. Please leave now. Please do as I say for once.” you cut him off.

Your calm voice calms him down as well. And he decides to listen to you.

“You promise to meet me?”

“I promise.”

You cover your face with your hands as soon as the door closes behind you.

You are ashamed, so terribly ashamed of whatever happened that it’s tough to even look at Hoseok.

He doesn’t deserve this, neither do you.

“I’m sorry. I- I’m so fucking sorry, Hoseok.” you mumble inside your palms.

Hoseok’s strong arms wrap around you and pull you into a hug.

“It’s okay, Y/N. It's not your fault.” Hoseok speaks into your ear with his soft and comforting voice. Stroking your hair with one hand, he pats on your back with another.

You’re incredibly grateful that you found this man and he likes you as much as you like him.

If your life had driven Jungkook away to make space for Hoseok, then you would be incredibly happy with the sacrifices you made.

“You don’t mind me seeing him, right?” you speak into Hoseok’s shoulder.

“No. Not at all. As long as you come back to me… I will be fine.”

“You can be assured about that. I will always come back to you no matter what.”

You can’t help but smile to yourself a little at the turn of events.

Almost two months ago you were sitting at the same restaurant, in the same cabin, at the same spot. You were waiting for the same person but the reason was completely different.

That day you were all nervous and fidgety. You knew you were aiming at a blind spot and your efforts might be nullified but you were determined to try.

You were even ready to beg Jungkook if that means he would stay beside you, with you.

And today, the situation has taken a wild turn.

You are here to hear him out and today he might become the one to beg you to take him back. Your ego soars high but you know how to keep that in check.

Jungkook is, as usual, late.

When he finally arrives, he apologizes a ton of times, “I’m so sorry, Y/N. The traffic was so bad today.”

“It’s okay. But I don’t have much time, so can you please tell me why you have been pulling all those stunts lately?” you start the conversation. Even though you are very worked up, you try to keep your voice neutral.

“I- I am sorry, Y/N. I am actually ashamed. I know I shouldn’t have barged into your house like that or question you about your life. But I couldn’t- I couldn’t stop myself. At first I told myself that I am just concerned for you. But later I realized I have been deceiving myself. I have deceived myself for that every second I thought I didn’t love you anymore or I loved someone else. That’s not true. I- I still love you. I love you so damn much.” By the time Jungkook completes, his eyes turn glassy.

The anger you have felt prior to this moment, vanishes into thin air. Now you feel bad for him. You really do.

You nod, “I understand. It’s common for us to misjudge our feelings on several occasions but” inhaling a sharp breath you continue, “what’s done can’t be undone.”

Jungkook leaves his seat and walks around the table to reach where you are sitting and then he is sinking down on his knees, “Y/N please. Please give me another chance. I- I will make things right.” he grabs your hands with his huge ones. Big fat trails of tears roll down his cheeks.

The scene breaks your heart even further.

You break his hold on your hands and hold him by his shoulders, hoisting him up on his feet.

“Jungkook, there is no point in doing this. You know I have moved on.”

“But- but you still love me. Don’t you? Tell me honestly, Y/N. don’t you still love me?”

“A part of me will always be loving you, Jungkook. You have given me so much after all.” you give him a small smile, “but I have left that part behind. And now, I’m afraid, I’m in love with someone else." Just the thought of Hoseok puts your mind at ease.

“Y/N- that guy has a kid!”

You chuckle at his complaint, “and how does that make him less deserving of love?”

“He is a good human being, Jungkook, and he loves me just as much. That’s more than enough for me. I was never very demanding in the first place, you know that.”

Jungkook doesn’t seem to understand just yet, “One last chance, please?”

You exhale loudly now. Diverting your eyes from him you murmur, “I love Hoseok, Kook. I really do. Please let me go now. Please?”

Jungkook burst into tears upon hearing your verdict. You step closer to his body and hold him close to you. You pat on his back to calm him down.

As a few seconds pass, he seems to stabilize himself.

“But I won’t be giving up on you. I will wait. I will wait for you to take me back.” Jungkook states with a weird determination.

You don’t say anything but nod a little.

If Hoseok says he is completely comfortable with the idea of you meeting Jungkook alone, then it will be a lie.

Because he is very much afraid of what may come out of this meeting.

What if you decide to give the guy another chance?

Hoseok trusts you with the entirety of his heart but sometimes fears are greater than the trust itself.

This is the fifth time he takes a look at his watch. The meeting is still an hour away and the drive from the restaurant to the school is only fifteen to twenty minutes, so if you come out now, he will have enough time to understand what has been your decision.

Just when he is about to peek at his watch another time, the restaurant door slides open and you walk out.

You give him one of your iconic blinding smiles while running towards him to fall back into his arms.

Hoseok is now relieved.

Because the way you smiled at him, the way you ran to his arms and the way you are placing a kiss on his lips now, tells him that he has nothing to worry about.

That he has you all to himself now.

He kisses you back with urgency, as if to confirm that you are really here in front of him.

“You okay?” Hoseok asked once you are on your feet properly.

“Umm.. I was fine. But now that I get to see this handsome face of my boyfriend, I feel even better.” you flirt shamelessly.

God! How can you be this addictive?

The tip of Hoseok’s ear turn red. He smiles a little sheepishly. He can’t remember the last time he felt this giddy around a woman.

He squeezes your sides, lips almost find yours to capture in another kiss but a voice interrupted the affectionate moment.

“Can I talk to you for a minute?” The question is directed at him. When Hoseok looks for the source of voice, he finds your ex, Jeon Jungkook, standing right behind you.

He leaves your side, you turn around to face the younger man.

“Jung-”

“Sure” Hoseok cuts you off.

If Jungkook has something to say, he would make sure to share a piece of his mind as well.

Hoseok non-verbally asks you to sit in the car while he figures out what in the world Jungkook would say to him.

Once you are inside the car Jungkook starts speaking, “Just so you know, I won’t give up. I will always be here for her if she decides to come back to me.”

Hoseok smiles at that “that won’t be necessary, I believe.”

Jungkook fixes him with a glare, “I don’t know how things escalated between you and her but she-” he pauses at first and then diverts his eyes from Hoseok’s face, looks towards the car, “she is in love with you.”

“The feelings are mutual.” Hoseok replies, keeping his calm demeanor.

“Just don’t fuck things up like I did. Don’t hurt her like I-” he doesn’t continue.

“Don’t worry. I won’t.”

“What did you two talk about?” you seem to be genuinely curious about what your ex boyfriend had to say to your recent boyfriend.

“You don’t need to know that, sweety.” teases Hoseok.

You huff at his reply.

In the span of your short relationship one thing Hoseok got to know about you is that you are incredibly cute when teased and he takes advantage of that knowledge whenever there is an opportunity.

“Okay but just tell me if he cursed you or something like that?” Now he knows that you are worried.

“Not a chance, Y/N. He wouldn’t get away doing that, I am an attorney, remember?” he gives you one of those smiles that he knows you love way too much to admit.

You nod.

“You need to boast about your profession for this upcoming meeting a lot.” you say after a moment of silence.

“I know” Hoseok’s voice turns serious, “but I don’t know if I can do this or not, Y/N. I might just lose my cool.”

You rest your left hand on his right one. Squeezing the same a little you reply, “I am here with you, Hoseok. I will handle it if things go out of hand, even though I don’t think that'll be the case.”

Hoseok’s mind sets itself on ease. If you are with him, he can do this. If you are with him, he can do anything.

“So.. you want me to believe that my son has been bullying your daughter?” The pitch of Jaemin’s mother’s voice is unnecessarily high and it hurts Hoseok’s ears. But he tries to calm himself down while focusing on your touch where you are holding his hand under the table.

“Yes.” hoseok voices.

“Do you have any proof?” the woman cocks one of her eyebrows.

“I am the proof myself, Mrs. Park. Being Sua’s therapist, I have gotten the chance to talk to her. Or rather I would say, I have made her talk to me as the child was way too afraid to share anything. And I assure you, your son has been bullying Jung Sua by outcasting her, calling her names that probably he doesn’t even know the meaning of, locking her in dark rooms and by damaging her relationship with her father. All apparently because she doesn’t have a mother.” you complete with a professional tone, something that the other woman can’t dare to defy.

“B-but he is just seven years old-”

“That’s exactly my point, Mrs. Park. Given the fact that Jaemin is only seven years old, there is no way he knows what illegitimate is. He must have heard it from someone. Someone he could easily pick it up from.” you lean a little towards the table, narrowing your eyes on the woman.

“What? What are you trying to say? Are you blaming me? That I have bad-mouthed Sua or something?” Jaemin’s mother screams at the top of her lungs.

“Ma’am please, don’t shout.” the homeroom teacher rushes to stop the woman from yelling.

“Yeobo! Stop it.” Jaemin’s father tries to do the same.

He has been quiet from the start and from the looks of it, you can tell that the man is wiser than his wife. He probably understands what you and Hoseok are trying to convey.

“We have not said anything explicitly. But you are getting worked up anyway, which suggests you are the one he picked it up from. If that’s the case then… just so you know that I can sue you for defaming my family and indirectly torturing my daughter.” Hoseok states flatly, even though his insides are burning already.

“No. no, Mr. Jung. I am sorry for what has happened. I know my apologies are not enough and these can never undo the mental trauma that my son has caused to your daughter but I promise I will move him to a different school. Just please don’t drag us into anything legal. Please.” the man, who is clearly the oldest in the room, practically pleads Hoseok.

Hoseok feels a little uneasy but then you squeeze his hand again, giving him a sign to settle the matter here.

“I am okay with the proposition.” he lets everyone know.

“Okay. This is settled then.” the homeroom teacher huffs out of relief.

“We are all good now.” you say as the two of you are outside of the school.

“Thank-”

“Shut it, Hoseok. Thank me one more time and I will run away.” you whine angrily, a little pout graces your pretty lips. Hoseok wants to kiss it again and again.

He laughs instead.

“Okay okay fine. Let’s go home.” he pulls you closer to his body by holding onto your forearms.

“Sua is away on a Gwangju trip, right?” you seem to recall it finally.

“Oh yeah. We can have our own trip tonight, baby.” Hoseok replies, licking on his bottom lips. His eyes drop on the narrow opening of your dress shirt.

“What trip?” you smirk.

“Sex trip.” he whispers, squeezing on your waist.

“Oh my god! Ho-Hoseok!” you groan seductively as Hoseok pounds on you as roughly as possible.

He spreacds your asscheeks with both of his hands to take a look at the spot where his cock is disappearing into your hole.

“Fuck baby! You are taking me so good. Your little cunt is swallowing my cunt so well, baby.” he praises, you moan as a reply.

Two of his fingers chase your clit to draw slow, torturing circles.

“God! You are swollen!” he bemoans when his fingers come in contact with your sensitive bundle of nerves.

“Guess who ate me out minutes ago? As if it was his last meal?” you manage to say in between your ragged breaths.

“Can’t help when you taste so good!” His reply is accompanied with a harsh thrust.

“Hoseok. -seok ah, I’m clo-” and even before you could complete your sentence, you cum.

The sight of you on all fours, drenching his cock while moaning his name, makes the tension in his lower stomach unbearable.

So he releases inside the condom embarrassingly early.

You fall on your face on his mattress, he falls on top of you.

“Let me run you a bath, hm?” he says in your hair. You nod.

“Y/N” Hoseok calls your name as he strokes your hair softly.

“Hm?” you mumble in his chest.

“I am thinking of telling Sua once she comes back from Gwangju. What do you say?”

Your heart races at the thought. Honestly, you have been pondering on the topic for the past few days. You totally understand if Hoseok doesn't want to tell her anything just yet. But you also wondered what if she rejects you, unapproves you just as she did with Mina.

“We should tell her. But-” you let your voice fade.

“But?”

You pull your face away from Hoseok’s chest and look into his eyes, “what if she doesn’t-”

“I love you. I will be loving you, nothing can change that. And if she doesn’t approve of us together, I will try my best to change her mind.” He gives you a smile.

You return the gesture and you find solace in his chest again.

“Oh I always knew.” Sua is more focused on the cookies you baked her than the conversation, which is indeed very serious.

“You knew what?” you try to coax the answer out of her. Her father is sitting still with his mouth open ajar.

“I knew that daddy likes you. And that you like daddy." She bites on the cookie.

“How did you know it, Sua?” your eyes open much wider than you have ever had them opened.

“He doesn’t take anyone to the bakery, you know. Not even emo and halmoni. And the way he panicked when I talked about Mina aunty.” the kid giggles.

Apparently, a seven year old caught on to the feelings of two adults. You two have been that obvious all these time.

“So… you are okay with Y/N?” Hoseok asks. It is as lf he is asking permission from his parents, which in this case might have been less nerve wrecking.

“Ummm yeah. I like her and I always wanted a mommy.” Sua smiles at you. Her eyes crinkle.

Is this what true validation feels like?

Not what your partner thinks about how your dress or makeup looks or how well you have been taking care of your skin, but a seven year old kid, giving you the place of her mother despite knowing you for less than two months? It is true validation for sure.

Tears prick your eyes but you are quick to blink those away.

“I will try my best to be your best mommy, Sua. I promise.” you open your arms wide. Sua takes the invitation and jumps on your embrace.

You hug her smaller frame, while your smaller frame gets engulfed by Hoseok’s body. You feel his tears on your head.

A year later

Jungkook was euphoric when he got your message a week ago. You had asked him to meet you at the same place where he broke your heart once and then in turn you broke his.

But…

Today he got a good feeling about it.

It’s been more than a year since he fucked up and lost you. And as if to redeem himself, he waited for you.

He checked up on you from time to time. He asked to see you, even though you declined. But what’s more important is that he kept telling himself one day you will be coming back to him.

And he thinks… today is the day.

He is not late today, rather he came thirty minutes earlier than the time you decided to meet. However, waiting makes him nervous. And waiting for you is overwhelmingly so.

The cabin door creaks open and he sees you entering.

It’s been more than a year since he last saw you. If there’s anything that has changed by the time, then it’s that you have gotten even more beautiful.

You look gorgeous in the midnight blue bodycon dress that you chose to wear today. He can’t help but grasp at your beauty.

And when you smile at him, fully, he loses his breath.

How the fuck did I even think I fell out of love with her? he thinks to himself.

“Hey” you chime in, taking the seat across from him, “you are in time.”

“Yeah. I didn’t want to disappoint you. Not this time.” he replies genuinely. But he can see your smile dulling a bit.

“So..” you start. Jungkook crosses his fingers under the table, “how are you doing, Kook?”

“I am doing fine, Y/N, at least physically. But mentally, I don’t know. I am- I am not over you yet.” he confesses.

You sigh, “you should move on, Jungkook. It’s been more than a year. It’s time for you to forgive yourself and move on.”

“I don’t even want to try, Y/N. I am going to wait for you.” and he is serious about it.

“Okay. Now let me come to the reason behind wanting to meet you.” you change the topic as you busy yourself in looking for something inside your bag.

You pull out an envelope and extend it towards him.

One look at it and Jungkook knows what it is and suddenly he can’t breathe at all.

“I’m getting married next month, Jungkook and I would be very happy if you come to congratulate me and Hoseok.” you look at him as if you are pitying him.

He laughs. He laughs out loud, “You really are getting married to him?”

“Yes. Thank you for leaving me back then. If you didn’t leave me, I would have never seen this day or be as happy as I am now.”

Jungkook tries to find mockery in your voice or in your eyes but what he finds is sincerity.

You are actually thankful to him for leaving you.

The heavy door of the waiting room opens as a staff walks in, “ma’am you have a visitor.” she says before standing away from the door and allowing the visitor to come in.

It’s Jungkook.

You never expected him to actually come. But he did and you are happy to see him here.

“Kook.” you call him, making him smile.

Jungkook ogles at you. You look like a dream come true. You look better than his imagination in which you wore this white gown to take vows with him.

And it would been him if he was good enough, instead, he had to fuck things up.

“You look beautiful, Y/N. You look perfect.” Jungkook’s genuine words make your heart melt.

“Thanks. I am glad you came.”

“I had to. Congratulations. I am happy for you.” Jungkook smiles easily, he extends his hand to invite you into his embrace.

You accept it.

A knock rings on the door.

“Y/N. come out. It’s time.” Mi seon screams from outside.

“Yeah coming.” you reply, breaking the hug, taking one last look into your ex-boyfriend’s eyes.

Hoseok had never thought a day like this would come for him as well.

A day where he would wear an immaculate tuxedo, stand at the pavilion and wait for his bride to walk up to him.

But it’s happening.

And it’s happening all because of you.

It’s safe to say that you have changed his and Sua’s life within this one year. And now he can’t imagine a life where you aren’t there to make it better.

Sua, too, now loves you more than him, probably.

His parents love you, his sister cherishes you, his friends call you incredible.

All in all, he has found heaven in you. And he hopes you found peace in him as well.

The piano starts playing as you appear at the other side of the aisle, holding your father by his arm.

You are smiling from ear to ear. Even from a distance he can tell that you are staring right at him.

You know Hoseok is devastatingly handsome, but he looks even dreamier as a groom. You could cry from just the way he stares at you with eyes full of love.

Your father squeezes the back of your hand, nodding at you and probably praising your choice in men.

Initially you were scared of your parents' reaction, of what they might think when they get to know that Hoseok is a single-father and he has never been married before.

But with Hoseok, things can’t go wrong. Your parents accepted him and Sua readily when they got to know his past.

Now, your parents and Sua are practically inseparable.

You start walking towards the man of your dream waiting for you to make him yours.

When you get closer to him, he holds your hands so softly as if you are made of porcelain.

One by one you take the vows, intertwining your life with his.

“You may kiss the bride.” The priest says.

Hoseok lowers his head to catch your lips, “forever?” he asks.

“Forever.” you answer, as you seal your promise for an eternity.

Taglist 1:-

@phenomenalgirl9 @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @chimchimmarie @coffeedepressionsoup @meowstake @vonvi-blog @nochuel @xjoonchildx @justmewondering-recs @cuteipat @miakey98 @purpleanchorcrown @chimmisbae @ane102 @junniesoleilkth @terjeonbebas @kookssecret @appleh4ad @kayleeshinee @whoa-jo @definetlythinkimanalien @lovelgirl22 @agrika

Taglist 2:-

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A/N: Thanks thanks thanks to all of you for being incredible readers. I really can't thank you all enough for being so into the story, for interacting with me through the progress, for being as attached to the characters as I am, for being patient whenever I was late to upload. Where Do Broken Hearts Go will remain very close to my heart and your positive reaction is a big part of the reasons why. Just know that Nika loves you. Nika loves every single one of you a ton! <3

#bts angst #bts smut #jungkook angst #jungkook smut #hoseok angst #hoseok smut #bts x reader #jungkook x reader #hoseok x reader #bts fanfiction #jungkook fanfic #hoseok scenarios #jhope angst #jhope smut #bts

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madamechrissy · 25 days

Text

Dirty Little Secret

ꕥ Pairings: Toji Fushiguro x Fem Reader

ꕥ Warnings-MDNI-explicit sexual content, dirty talk, Toji calls reader 'doll, ma, slut (Toji and Doll just work lol) Age gap- reader is 21, Toji is 39. - This chapter-explicit sex, fingering, rough sex, public sex, dirty talk, daddy kink (it's Toji so that's its own warning lol)

ꕥ Word Count- 6,500

ꕥ Summary- Toji Fushiguro is your dad Shiu's best friend for years. You've known him most your life. You come home for spring break to relax, and who pops up at the fucking doorstep? Toji. He's nasty, annoying, perverted and... Sexy. Hot. Built. And makes you think, maybe your first time shouldn't be with some college boy? But with this buff dude who can tie a cherry stem with his tongue and a scar on his damn lip.

Chapter 6 - Masterlist

Chapter 7

You wake up and blink lazily, seeing the hints of sunlight streaming through the room, and Toji Fushiguro’s huge arm is wrapped around you, holding you so tight. You sigh happily, snuggling deeper, in this little bliss that would surely soon be destroyed, and it killed you to think of. It was a matter of time before life happened, and in just a couple of days you’d be back to school.

This will be over…

You don’t want it to end.

You feel his hard length against your ass then, pressing, and you bite your lower lip as pressure builds in your core, fuck will you always be soaked around Toji? You wiggle a bit, gasping as his hand squeezes your tummy then, gripping the little tummy there as you lay on your side, and you go to shove his hand off, making him laugh against your neck.

“Don’t touch it!” You hiss, but he caresses it again, before squishing it. “No stop… I don’t have abs like you!”

“It’s cute and tiny, shut up lil brat.” He kisses your cheek again, and pinches the little tummy once more, making you blush. “You can’t be embarrassed, your body is so fucking nice.”

“Yeah but lemme lay on my back. It looks so much better.”

“I like it. I like this too.” Now he’s pinching the plush of your thighs, as he presses his cock eagerly against you.

“So you like where I’m squishy!?”

“The fuck you think, doll? I need to show ya?” He grunts the words then, and you feel him press against your soaking wet little cunt, right over those little shorts you’re wearing.

“Y-yeah, show me.” You whisper, as you arch your ass up for more, and he’s grinding his cock over both of your clothes, groaning in your ear, so sexy there’s a wet spot from you and Toji’s precum. He’s grabbing your breast now, squishing it in his hand, and it feels so good you can’t take it.

“Especially like the squish here.” He murmurs seductively, and it wrecks you, taking over your entire body with the sensations.

“Fuck, Toji…” You lean back your head and he kisses you softly, his hand moving lower, his fingers slipping into your wetness under your waist band. You try to hold back a moan, but it’s impossible, and you feel your body start to respond to his touch, your hips moving back against his hand.

“Soaked, doll, aren’t ya? You’re so slutty f’me.” You whine then, and he uses one hand to cover your mouth, shaking his head. “It’s morning, shh.”

You nod eagerly, sighing against his palm, and you reach back and stroke his thigh, sliding up behind you as he’s running little circles on your clit. When you reach his thick length he groans quietly, his hand moving faster, making you tense as you feel a climax build from just that.

Any touch Toji gives you has you writhing.

“C-cumming…” You whisper out, and you feel his hand tighten around your waist, holding you in place as he works his fingers faster, side to side, and you cover your mouth with your own hand, screaming into it as you fall apart.

“That’s it, doll, come for me, come all over Daddy’s fingers.” And you do, your body convulsing in his arms, your eyes squeezed shut as you try to keep the noise down, cunt throbbing around nothing.

"Toji, fuck me please." He groans, his teeth sinking into your shoulder, and then you feel him pulling your shorts to the side, and his cock is now pressing against your entrance, slippery and hot.

“Gonna be the death of me, doll.” His words just urge you on to no end, and then he’s yanking a thigh over his, and slipping into your pussy from behind, filling you so full you have to grit your teeth not to scream out. “F-fuck…”

“Mnh!” You can’t hide every moan, not when he starts to slide in easier, you’re so wet you can hear it. You bite your lip to keep from screaming as he starts to fuck you slow and deep, his hand still playing with your clit again, and you can’t take it. “Cumming, cumming!”

“So easy, m’barely moving baby.” You just whine, as he’s hitting new spots in this position, and you cling to the arm wrapped around you, ass pressing against his body for more, more as you gush around his length. You’re so slippery it’s sliding down your thighs, down to the sheets, making Toji groan. “Feel so fuckin good, doll.”

You can feel every inch of him inside you, stretching you out, making you feel so full, and it’s all you can do to keep from begging for more out loud, from screaming out. You’re so close again, and you know he knows it. His strokes get faster, his breath hot against your neck, his grip on your thigh tightening, he’s so deep he’s smacking your cervix, and you’re already close again.

You’ve cum so much so quick it’s intense, maddening, as you inhale Toji’s scent, as you feel his hard muscles contract, as his cock steadily fucks any senses you have ever had. He’s fucking rougher and rougher, making you bite your own hand to suppress a scream of pleasure, but it’s getting harder and harder to stop your noises, not when you’re clenching around the thick cock in you.

Toji’s relentless on your clit again, and you have to bury your face in the soft pillow, panting when you can feel your pussy clenching around him, and he groans softly, slowing down finally, gripping your body tightly against him. He’s kissing sloppy down your neck, tickling the skin and making your back arch, you reach back to touch him, any of him, just to feel him.

You both are a tangled mess in the blankets, you feel his sweat on you, feel his cock thickening in your aching little hole. He presses up into you, so deep you can’t take it, and you’re pulsing all around his cock, wetness sliding out around and down him, crying out louder than you should, making him cover your mouth again.

“Shut the fuck up, doll. Or no more dick.” You just whine, it feels so good it’s like you’re drunk on him, you’re dying. “Shut this pretty mouth, shh.”

You struggle, gritting your teeth and then rocking on him, he stutters his rhythm as your climax makes your walls tighten around his cock like a vise, burying his face in your neck and softly moaning. You yank his hand down, looking back at him and smirking. “Daddy…”

Toji starts cumming immediately at that, busting his load deep inside your cunt, filling you with warmth that spreads through your walls. He’s gripping you tight as he’s quietly groaning in your ear, pumping you full. You relish in it, in feeling him shoving his cock in so deep you can’t stand it, pushing his cum in more and more, as it’s slipping down between you two.

“Holy fuck, you’re evil, brat.” He speaks through gritted teeth, and you giggle then, but soon you hear it, a knock.

Shit.

Both of you tense, and he shushes you by slamming a hand down on your mouth harshly this time, you just shut your eyes, terrified, as everything is crashing down, the reality you refuse to let come in your head.

“Toji, can we talk?” Your dad says then, and your eyes widen in terror, both of you stare at each other.

“Um yeah, I’ll be down in a few.” Toji speaks calmly, while you’re losing your ever loving shit, damn near hyperventilating in his grasp. You all are still intimately connected, the aftershocks of your orgasm squeezing his cock.

“Yeah okay, have a company thing I thought we could bring Kiddo to tonight. Bunch of our old buddies. I’ll see you in the kitchen.” He walks away, and you both listen as the footsteps descend, and finally you both exhale.

“That was too close.” You murmur, and he sighs, easing out of you, making both of you hiss at it.

“Your fuckin fault, brat. ‘Oh let me cuddle you Toji, please’ now look.” You glare up at him as you get dressed.

“Whatever, you loved it.” He pauses, looking down, and then back up at you with a scowl, grabbing you by your shoulders roughly.

“Playing a dangerous game, doll. If you want some chance of this to work, you need to be careful these last couple days. Got it?”

“But what if he knew? What if I tell him and-”

“No.”

“No!?”

“Fuck no. Now I gotta go, get to your room and clean up, look like ya got fucked all night.” He smirks then, as you cross your arms and scowl, watching his tall silhouette disappear out of the room.

*****

After some Scooby Doo level sneaking, you’re presentable and coming downstairs where Toji and Shiu are drinking coffee. They both smile as you approach, Toji’s a smirk of course, as he looks your body up and down. You yawn a bit, as if you’ve just woken up.

“Coffee, kiddo?” Your dad asks, and you smile.

“Yes please! Morning dad.” You kiss his cheek and he kisses the top of your head, and then you look at Toji. “Morning, old man.”

“Morning brat.” Shiu snorts at your typical exchange, and you thankfully take the hot coffee, sipping it down your sore throat. Deep throating Toji hurts.

“So we’re going to a work get-together tonight, some of our old colleagues, they’re a rough bunch but I think that you will enjoy a couple of my friend’s kids. They’re about your age.”

You flush, and notice Toji’s big hand tightening on his black mug, the veins popping out of the rugged skin. “Are you trying to get me a boyfriend?”

“No, just… well you haven’t had any since High school. Who was that boy again?” Shiu taps his chin, and you feel Toji’s gaze on you.

“Yuuta.”

“Yeah him. Then Yuuji right? That’s Megumi’s best friend.”

“So long ago dad…” You trail off, embarrassed as he points out your lack of boyfriends in your history.

“Megumi is a good boy, isn’t he Toji?” Toji snorts out some of his coffee then, and you’re struggling to hold in a snort yourself, busying yourself with looking up at the ceiling then.

“Love these can lights dad.” Shiu rolls his eyes, sighing.

“What, Toji, you wouldn’t want Megumi with her? She’s amazing, you know. And he’s a sweet kid.” Toji wipes himself up on his shirt, he’s so messy and you kind of love it wow, before clearing his throat.

“I know she’s a catch all right. Look at her.” His words are so full of intent, as he looks at you.

“Exactly. Straight A student, talented, beautiful. And can kick some ass.” You giggle then, shaking your head.

“I did like one year of karate, dad.”

“I taught you plenty! Just saying. You two would be cute together.”

“You’re a matchmaker now?” You ask him, and he shakes his head.

“Just want you to be happy. Too serious all the time.” He ruffles your hair, and you pout a bit at that.

Were you too serious?

Toji railing you wasn’t serious, was it…

Your feelings were, though.

“Well, maybe I should say the same about you and Mei, hmm?” You poke at his chest and he flushes. “Ah, see! Uno reverse dad.”

“Okay at least be open to meeting someone, last night you got so upset. Was the boy rude?” You tremble then, shaking your head and sipping the dark, hot coffee, letting it burn your tongue.

“No, not rude, I’m picky is all.” Your eyes linger on Toji, who was being quiet, but he opens his mouth then.

“Nothing wrong with being picky.” Toji chimes in, and Shiu agrees.

“Not that either of us were, huh?” He comes to Toji then, shoving his arm, and Toji actually blushes. Toji Fushiguro blushing huh!? “I think we fucked the entire sorority.”

You blink then, glaring, and Toji’s rubbing the back of his neck, that well muscled broad neck, just looking away. “I mean, nah that was you. I was fucking the bad girls. Not the one that had the-”

“Oh fuck, that one!”

They start reminiscing about being hoes, and quite frankly it irritates you. But god, Toji had how long he’d been fucking? And you were a virgin when he met you, of course he was experienced, you felt it constantly. But something about him being like that with someone hurt your chest in ways that made no sense.

“I’m over this conversation, you two were both man whores.” They both chuckle then, and suddenly it hits you. You would ruin their friendship.

Fuck you’re awful, aren’t you?

Your dad would forgive you, would he forgive Toji?

“Sorry, kiddo. You're up for coming tonight though?” You nod, rinsing out your cup then, as wild images fill your overheated mind.

“Not sure I have anything to wear fancy though.”

“You left things here in your closet, anything fit?”

“Hmm I’ll go check.” You head upstairs again, peeking through your closet and seeing dresses lined up on hangers, you hum to yourself, peeking around until you hit one of the pretty black dresses that looks like it would still fit.

You try it on, it’s glittery and clings to your curves, a little snug on your bust but damn near perfect. You peek in the mirror and see your flushed cheeks, your bright eyes, all brought on by a man you couldn’t talk about. As your dad talks about boyfriends and Toji is who you want. How had it gotten so deep, so quick?

*****

That Night

Toji sees you descending the stairs in that gorgeous dress, the one that clings to your every curve, shimmering like your eyes are, but not even close to how brilliant they were. How could Toji even describe your eye color? And why was Toji musing about such things, when he used to care more about tits or ass, why then is he looking at your cute nose, your pretty smile?

Tits were nice as fuck but it was all of you, your energy as you enter every room, sometimes shy and sometimes bold, you had no problem smacking the fuck out of him, nor did you mind kissing him sweetly. You had no issue riding him but also melted under him. You are nothing like he’s ever known, and every moment by you, he worries more and more.

How will he just let you go?

You’ll go live your life once you’re done with him, you think that you won’t, but he already knows it in his heart, like a punch to the gut. What would people even think of him with you? What would your dad think, if he could get past surely beating Toji the fuck up. The whole thing is going to blow up in his face, and it’s his fault, because what he thought was fun was…

Everything to him now. He lost himself in your damn eyes, he’s thinking sappy shit all the time, fuck if you’re not the worst for that. For feeling like you’re made for him, for looking so beautiful, for calling him out on his bullshit. You’re so beyond your years, fuck you’re beyond anyone he’s met, and now his selfish actions are just going to hurt you both.

Just the thought of seeing you dance again makes him sick. Toji had never been possessive either, of any woman he’d been with, then again he hadn’t been close with someone in so many years. And even the love he had before, with Megumi’s mom, it wasn’t like this, this was something different.

He loves you so much he doesn’t know if he can ruin your life.

“Aw, you look beautiful honey.” Shiu says then, and you flush at the praise, as you step down in front of both of them.

“And you look handsome, dad.” You pop a kiss on his cheek, leaning up, and then you look at Toji, whose eyes are so dark they look black, a heated look on his face, lips in a stern line, drawing attention to that scar.

Where did it come from, you wonder? For knowing him your entire life, you don’t know enough about him, and would you get such a chance?

“Ya look beautiful, doll.” Toji helps you down the step with his hand, and you lift the dress just a bit, revealing heels you just never wear, and his gaze slides down your leg then. “If I was twenty again…”

“I’ll punch you in the face, Fushiguro.” Shiu says with a smack, something Toji had teased at a couple years ago, but now the shit had meaning.

And it hurt your feelings.

You didn’t want Toji at twenty, you want Toji now, like he is. You crave him so bad it’s physically painful, the loss of just the warmth of his hand hurts. He smirks a bit, trying to play it off, but you can feel the tension between you both in the room, so much so you’re genuinely surprised your dad didn’t notice.

“What can I say, she’s beautiful.”

“She is, but also fuck you.” You giggle at that, as your dad snatches you up now, and you wish you could be this perfect daughter he thinks, but at this point you’re so far from it.

The car ride there is awkward until you all pick up Mei, who looks stunning in a blue gown, and then it’s more awkward as you sit next to Toji, his hands on his own thighs, not sneaking any touches. It was as if you both knew you should be more careful, but the inability to touch him as you wish to makes you die a little more inside, especially at the thought of…

Seeing Toji dance with someone.

That’s what happens later, as you’re sipping on your third glass of champagne, and Toji is dancing with a couple different colleagues. He smirks a bit, and he’s stiff, and his eyes keep catching yours across the elegant ballroom of this old, fancy hotel. But to see him with anyone shatters you, so you drink… too much. More than you normally would.

The alcohol starts to pulse through you, as some boy asks you to dance, fuck that’s what all these ‘men’ became compared to Toji Fushiguro, they became boys. And now you’re watching elegant women, with careers and confidence, dancing with the man who makes you feel the most beautiful. While you’re dancing with some boy fawning over you.

You can’t notice, you can’t care to learn his name.

You also notice Shiu and Mei dancing, and for them you’re so happy, to see your dad smile was the best thing, but would Shiu ever accept you doing something so awful? Toji had been right, you all would never work, especially when you go your separate ways, Toji lives hours away and you go to college. And who knows what women he gets.

You’re jealous, huh?

People are dancing all over, the swirls of energy around you, the music so loud that the bass is thumping in your chest. You feel the tears sting your eyes, and the champagne isn’t helping. You’re tipsy, and the boy is saying something, but all you can think about is Toji’s husky voice, his strong arms and how it would feel to dance with him. The way he whispers your name… and oh you just can’t take this, you are trembling at how upset you are.

It’s all too much, so you let go of the boy, your cheeks burning, and you start to make your way to the bathroom, to splash water on your face or just cry honestly, but you’re stopped.

“You okay, doll?” Toji’s big hand is on your elbow, and you just nod, sniffling and not looking at him. “No you’re not.”

You swipe at your eyes, blinking rapidly. “I’m fine, just tired.”

“You're lyin’ to me doll, why?” He’s so concerned, he smells so good, he feels so good, and that’s your breaking point.

Your eyes lock with his, and you lean in, making him gulp and nervously look around for a moment, but honestly the alcohol and your jealousy has you feeling too much, and losing your senses. Your hands are on his hard chest over the dress shirt that looks so odd on the man you knew to wear gym tees, but it also was so attractive you can’t think.

Fuck you want him.

“I hate you dancing with anyone.” You whisper then, and he exhales, his grip sliding down your arm. “It makes me fuckin… depressed, kay?”

“You’re drunk, aren’t you brat?” You giggle at that, rolling your eyes and then sliding your hands down his hard chest, making him drag you away from prying eyes, inside the bathroom now. “What are you thinking!?”

“Thinking that I can’t stand this. I want your arms around me.” You yank him to you, and he groans, shaking his head and pulling back. You feel tears prick your eyes as he gently cups your face.

“You’ll get us caught, you need to stop. I can’t fuckin think right when you touch me, you know.” You shiver at his tone, so your hand glides down, rubbing lower and lower until it’s over his cock outline of his trousers. He groans, leaning down and his lips are so close…

“I need you, I need you so bad.” You cry out softly, and he’s moaning, tall and looming over you, so fucking big compared to you, and you just ache for him so badly it’s like you can’t think.

“You’re drunk, doll…”

“I’m not. Three glasses.”

“You’re a lightweight, brat.”

“Nah…” You rub him again, yanking him down by his black tie, that he somehow tied perfectly, and his dark green eyes lock on yours, hungry, his hands sliding down to your waist now.

“You’re tryna kill me, huh?” He whispers those words, angry, glaring down at you now. “Not here. What the fuck are you thinking?”

“I can’t think with you. I’m too in love to fucking think.” Toji freezes then, and so do you, mouth dropped open, and your eyes wide. “Fuck, I said that out loud, didn’t I? Shit.”

“How drunk are you? Love me? That’s fuckin stupid.” You glare then, as your heart is racing, as your pulse is thrumming, as there is just too much fucking built up you can’t take it.

“Why, think you don’t deserve it?” He glares, then he snatches you up, pulling you into a kiss that was desperate and hungry, his tongue demanding entrance as his hand slid down to cup your ass, lifting you up onto the sink. You moan in pleasure, as everything takes you over, and you wrapped your legs around his waist, grinding your needy cunt against him.

“Fuck you, brat. Fuck you.” He is furious as he speaks, his touch his hard and grip so fucking tight you can’t take it, the possessive touch, that burns your skin.

“Why, because I love you?” He damn near whimpers in your ear, as he’s kissing up your neck, hot, messy kisses, mostly his tongue and teeth, and you’re whimpering, clinging to him. You don’t care if anyone could hear, you need him more than you've ever needed anything.

“You’re drunk. And a fucking idiot. You don’t. Just look at you…” He’s back to kissing you again, and now it’s more heated, his big hands sliding up under your dress, his fingers finding your wet panties, and now he’s groaning. "Fuck, you're so wet."

“For you.” He curses, slamming back down on your lips, right in this bathroom, where anyone could walk in, but you just gasp into his mouth as he slides a finger inside your slick entry, the friction sending waves of pleasure through your body.

“You kill me. Why do you have to feel like this, look like this… taste like this.” He kisses down your chest, as his thick finger plays your little cunt, your hands grip his inky black hair, for once so neat, messing it completely. Your head falls back, smacking the fancy gold mirrors behind you, as you gush around his fingers.

"Toji," you moaned, your hips rocking against his hand eagerly. "Please, please�� need you."

“This is stupid. You’re gonna get us caught. And I can’t fucking turn you down, either.” He curses again, and every cuss word was so sexy, as you cup his handsome face, placing a kiss on the corner of his lips, feeling his hot breath on your swollen lips, and now he’s got two fingers working on you, and you struggle to focus. “That fucking face you make? Fuck…”

“Fuck me, please. Please. Don’t fucking dance with anyone.” He groans, his lashes low over his eyes, pupils dilated, and you know you’re fucking stupid, as he’s yanking his trousers down, as his thick cock slaps his stomach.

“Jealous little bitch huh?” His words just fuel you, and you scowl, swiping the pre cum on his tip and making his cock twitch.

“You don’t like it either, do you?” You whisper, and he’s yanking you by your thighs, holding your panties to the side, tip eager between your drooling lips, you cry out and he shoves your mouth closed with a hand.

“No I hate watching anyone with you, the fuck you think!? But I know I can’t even have you.”

“You do have me. Mnh… Toji, please.” You’re clinging to him, against any good sense, and he can’t even stop you, he’s just as helpless for you. You both are addicted to each other, and there’s not much either of you can do to stop it.

“We can’t right here, fuck… c’mere.” He snatches you up, making you squeak, and now you all are in a stall, and he’s clicking the lock shut, carrying you like you’re nothing, slamming you on the black door of the stall. “What do you do to me? Evil little bitch.” He curses, and you bite his lip then, hard, making him groan, and he’s slid his cock deep, to the fucking hilt.

You scream out, he has to cover your lips with his, and you’re drooling as his cock slides out and then in, hard, slamming your back against the door with such force you’re shocked it doesn’t fly of the hinges. Toji is stupidly rough, leaking tip bullying its way through your walls, that flutter around him, pressure in your tummy building.

“Fuck… Toji…” You whimper against his lips, he sighs, eyes locking, brows drawn together in concentration as he places one hand on the back of your neck, yanking your hair, forcing your head back.

“You make me stupid.”

“You already were.” He glares, slamming hard, and you gasp, clinging to him and crying out.

“Fuckin brat.”

“Asshole.”

“Lil slut.”

“Manwhore.” Now you two are aggressive, tearing into each other, and Toji’s owning you right in a bathroom stall, fucking you so good it’s impossible to stay quiet, until you’re trembling, your wetness sliding down his length.

“Oh my… fuck.” He groans out, eyes catching yours then, blown out pupils, parted lips that are glossy from kissing you, teeth bared as he fucks up into you brutally, and your head lolls to the side, as you start cumming. “Shh, shh.”

His hand is smacking down over your mouth as he’s pumping in and out, his eyes never leaving yours, and it’s so intimate you can’t take it, tears pour from your eyes as he silently plunges into you over and over. You’re shattering around him, pulsing with the aftershocks of your orgasm, shaking violently as he continues to wreck you.

“Why ya gotta be so fuckin perfect? You kill me.” He whispers, letting your mouth go to kiss you again, it’s bumping teeth, messy tongues and drool, as you’re close to the edge again.

“I love you.” He scowls, slamming harder, shaking his head.

“Don’t say it. It’ll just hurt more.” You blink out more tears, down your cheek, as he slows his thrusts, rolling his hips, you gasp at how fucking good it feels.

“Don’t care, d-don’t care… it’s t-true.” You whisper back, whimpering as you’re tightening down on him again, and he’s thickening in you.

“S’not true. Don’t. Just hurts me.” His face breaks you, the angst and sorrow on his handsome features, and you just shake your head. “Don’t, doll. Already wreck me, fuckin stop that.”

“Scared. Scared. Mnh.” You tense as his curved dip drags along your walls, as his big hands grip your thighs, as he’s fucking you into the stall door, and you can’t get enough of it, losing yourself in the mind numbing pleasure.

“Fuck you.”

“Put a baby in me.” He stops, full halt, mouth wide open at your words, and you can’t really blame the alcohol that is warming you, not when you truly want to say those fucking words. He’s gripping you so hard you wince in pain, but you feel him throbbing inside your cunt, and you bite your lip, whimpering.

“Don’t fucking say that shit.” He grunts out, and you just smirk, causing him to scowl at you.

“Don’t want to, huh? What kinda daddy are- ah!” He’s shoved his cock so deep you can’t take it, you’re spasming, thighs hurting at the force apart around his hips, and you’re embarrassingly gushing all down both of you, dripping on the floor.

“You’re a psycho. Evil. What the-” You can’t take it, not when he’s fucking you again, so goddamn mean.

“Don’t want to?”

“Yes I want to. Put a baby in you. Breed you.” He’s whining the words in a husky, deep voice, as he’s steady fucking into you, thrusts getting erratic, his breath hot on your lips, eyes staring into yours. “Fuck I wanna keep you pregnant.”

“Do it.” He’s glaring again, and you’re grinning, but he fucks that grin into a moan of pleasure, into your mouth open in an O shape, your nails digging into the fabric of his dress shirt, cunt wrecked and aching.

“Do it? The fuck is wrong with you. You don’t want that.” You just giggle, still buzzed and losing it more and more.

“I do, put one in me. Please.” Toji loses it then, fucking you so hard there’s no mistaking the skin smacking, the door banging, and if anyone would come in neither of you could stop.

“Fuck you for that. Fuck you, lil evil bitch.”

“Fuck you, Toji, for making me… this… way. Fuck you.”

You both glare, but then he’s moaning, kissing you deeply, and both of you eat each other’s mouths up, devouring every inch. “Gonna put a baby in you right here, in a bathroom like a lil slut huh?”

“Ya scared? Do it.” He’s growling as he pushes in, mouth on yours again, pressing in and starting to pulse inside you as you’re thrown off the edge that is Toji Fushiguro.

“Me, scared? You’re just a lil brat.”

“You’re an- mnh- old man.”

“Lil girl is all you are.”

“Daddy.” He’s cumming now, at the word, you’re calling your dad’s best friend that as your own dad is outside, and you give little to no fucks, as Toji clings to you so tightly, as he moans is release into your lips.

“Oh my- F-fuck… fucking brat. Fucking bitch.” He’s cumming as he cusses, and you’re cumming now too, fueled by his nasty words, by his cum streaming in your eager cunt, and he’s looking right at you as he does, lips parted, brows together, brow scrunched up.

“Fuck you, Toji. Love you, Toji.” He’s kissing you, shaking hands holding you, one sliding up to cup your cheek, big and warm, his forest gaze so heady you get lost in those eyes.

“Don’t do this t’me. Fucking evil. You don’t mean it.” You laugh softly then, as he’s still inside you, and he hisses at the sensation of your cunt tightening around his slick length, as his cum drips out.

“I do mean it.”

“No.”

“You don’t love me.”

“I do!” You both pause then, and he eases out of you with a wince, and you feel so… empty. He’s fixing your outfit, your hair, sighing as you just stare up at him.

“You what!?” You ask, and he sighs, jaw clenching.

“It’ll make it worse, doll. Tear my heart and crush it.”

“No, it won’t…”

“We need to go before it’s even worse.” He is taking you toward the door then, as you process what the fuck just happened, as you realize he may feel the same.

The alcohol makes you flush, but Toji’s cum dripping out of your cunt makes you blush, fuck it makes you die. He makes you die, this tall asshole who calls you a slut in such a way he might as well say darling. This dickhead who you can’t keep your hands off.

Just begged him to put a baby in you.

What the fuck is Toji doing?

You both walk out then, and then you’re face to face with Shiu, who’s scowling at Toji, his fists clenching and unclenching, and you just gasp, bringing his attention to you now. His light brown eyes just look sadly at you, fuck he doesn’t even seem mad, but when he looks at Toji?

Shit.

“Outside, now.” He quietly demands, and Toji sighs, looking back at you, holding your shoulders and bending low.

“One for the road.” He slams his lips before you can protest the sentiment, then Toji Fushiguro fallows Shiu Kong out, only for you to run out after them, running to your dad once you’re all out in the night.

“Dad… please, it’s my fault. I am drunk and…”

“No, honey, it could never be your fault. It’s him.” He says through gritted teeth, cracking his knuckles and tossing a dress jacket on the grass. Toji tenses, sighing as he does the same. “Toji Fushiguro, wanna tell me how long you’ve been sleeping with my daughter!?”

“Dad, no!” Toji sighs, no smirk to him, just staring at you longingly for a moment, making Shiu even more furious.

“Since I got here damn near.” You gasp, and Shiu punches him right in the face, you shudder at the sound of bone and fist smashing.

“Dad, it was me!”

“No, it wasn’t you. It was all me.” Toji makes you start crying again, and he sighs, looking at Shiu. “She’s a good girl. This was on me.”

“Tell me you didn’t, tell me after all those years of cleaning your fuck ups, of treating you like family, that you didn’t fucking do this!” Shiu’s voice cracks, as he punches Toji in the stomach, and you can’t stop the sobs.

“Be mad at me. At me.” You plead, but Shiu looks at you, sadness in his eyes. Fuck is that dissapointment!?

“You are young, it’s not your fault. You got manipulated by this asshole, old enough to be your dad.”

“No, dad I… dad I love him.” Toji’s eyes are wide, and Shiu’s scowl grows, as he punches Toji again, on top of him and grabbing him by the collar. You’re in horror as you watch the two most important people like this. Your heart shatters.

“You’ve done a number on her. You know she had no fucking experience, you knew she didn’t know better.”

“Yeah, I knew.” Toji does nothing to stop Shiu’s hits, sickening, as he has a bloody lip.

“Not gonna fight me, Toji?”

“No. I deserve worse.” Shiu pauses then, sighing, shaking his head as he stays straddled on him, holding him up. “I knew what I was doing. I’m a piece of shit for it, I deserve it all.”

“Toji stop! Dad, I wanted it.”

“Don’t say that.” Shiu looks at you, devastated, and you feel horrible, as Toji just lets him punch him again. “He did this to you.”

“I did.”

“Just go, never come back around me.” Shiu stands, and Toji sits up a bit, wiping the blood off his lip, wincing.

“I deserv more hits than that, Shiu, go for it.”

Shiu frowns, clenching and unclenching his fists, and you’re staring at the chaos you caused, all because you couldn’t control yourself. All because you got jealous Toji danced with someone. Now your dad is losing his best friend, and you’re losing Toji, probably for good. You can’t stop your sobs.

“Baby… I’m sorry you saw this.” Shiu hugs you, and you can’t stop your sobs, as you see a watery image of Toji standing.

“I swear it wasn’t some manipulation. I-I did this too. I’m not a little girl, I’m a grown woman.”

“It doesn’t matter, you’re still a baby compared to him.”

“You are better off without me, doll.” Shiu scowls, holding you.

“Get your shit and be gone before I get home. And you…” He turns to you then, frowning. “Are you okay?”

“No, I’m not, you’re blaming it all on him! When I started it tonight.”

“And you started it all together?” You look away. “That’s what I thought. You’re young, honey, just forget this.”

Forget this!?

“Your dad’s right.”

“Shut the fuck up, Toji.” Shiu scowls, but Toji walks up to you then, close but not so close as to get punched again. “Lucky I don’t kill you.”

“I wouldn’t blame ya if ya did.” He sighs, wiping blood off his face, dark eyes on yours, and you can’t stop the tears, the tightening in your chest. “I’m shit for this, I can’t even apologize, and neither of you should forgive me.”

“I won’t.”

“Toji… Dad…”

“No, he’s right, I’d protect my kid too from someone like me.” Shiu is frowning, and you see the pain in his face.

“I thought we were family.” He says, and your ache is a full out pain, as your breath is coming in pants, as your heart races.

“We were and I’m… fucking a piece of shit. I’m sorry. Really. To both of you, just forget I existed.”

“I can’t! What, I-”

“Go.” You blink rapidly as Toji walks off, and you’re left with your dad looking at you, pity clear on his eyes. “I’m so sorry he did this. This is my fault, I should have never trusted him.”

“I swear, it’s on me.”

“You’re young. You’ll move on.”

You could never move on from him, from the broad silhouette walking away, and you just want to chase him, you want to hold him, want him to pick you up like nothing and kiss you. You want his brutal kisses every day of your life, forever. You feel nausea in waves as you watch him leave, maybe for good.

What have you done?

Chapter 8

Ao3 chap https://archiveofourown.org/works/57496135/chapters/149056444

#jjk toji #toji fushiguro #toji x reader #toji x you #toji smut #fushiguro toji #jjk men #jujutsu kaisen toji #fushiguro toji x reader #jjk smut #jujustu kaisen #jjk x reader

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golden-cherry · 1 year

Text

deal - cl16 (6/?)

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader

Series Summary: Your whole life has gone to shit. Your boyfriend broke up with you, you just lost your job and the Monegasque, who suddenly stands in your doorway, claims that it’s his apartment.

Chapter Summary: Wine as an apology is always accepted.

Warnings: Charles being sweet, mentions of ex-boyfriend, alcohol consumption

Word Count: 3k

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A/N: this is my "good luck Carlos" chapter. feedback is always appreciated!

It's cold in the narrow streets of Monaco.

Your jacket is thick, but the high walls and the wind sweeping through the streets it doesn't keep you warm enough to keep your fingers from freezing. Unlike the rays of sunshine this morning that warmed Charles and you, you are now surrounded by shadows and the clouds hang low over Monte-Carlo.

The weather could not have been more fitting.

Shortly after you got out of the car and left the backyard, the sun disappeared and the temperature felt like it had dropped 10 degrees. And your spirits went down with it.

You don't want to argue with Charles, and definitely you didn't want to ditch him, but the situation was just too much for you. You've never been good at arguing - bitching will do - and you've always run away as soon as the opportunity has presented itself.

It's been no different with your parents.

You turn down the next alley. The streets are so narrow that no car can drive there. And Charles can't drive alongside you, shouting things at you through the window like in a bad comedy. But the wind whistling around your ears creeps under your jacket and makes you shiver all over.

For sure, Charles is already sitting on the couch at home, thinking of the best way to kick you out of the apartment. While he's clearly crossed lines - first, meddling in your affairs, and second, pressuring you to speak up straight - it's still his apartment, and he decides who can and can't live in it.

Inside, you're scolding yourself. Why the hell are you acting like this to your roommate who let you stay with him for free? You just left him there. What if he's worried about you? And comes looking for you? On purpose, you walk through those alleys so he won't catch up with you. But what if something actually happens? And you couldn't apologize for your behavior?

But how the heck are you supposed to apologize? If you had enough time - and were sitting at your desk - you would come up with a speech and write it down so you could recite it to him. It would be emotional, knock his socks off, and for sure you would cry, which would definitely be embarrassing.

Only you're not at home at your desk, which is why you have to come up with something else.

Last night Charles complained about your sweet wine, which is why you can assume he prefers dry wine. Or maybe he doesn't like wine in general. But then he wouldn't have asked for it.

As you enter one of the main streets, the clouds in the sky seem to loosen a bit and you leave behind the stone that you have been kicking for several meters in front of you. It's not far to the apartment, and thank goodness your favorite supermarket is on the way.

As you walk through the sliding doors, you see Vicky sitting at the register. She's a few years older than you and always tells you the latest gossip from the employees when there's a line behind you to cash out. Plus, she always makes sure there's at least one bottle of your favorite wine in stock in case you're having a bad day.

Like today.

But instead of giving you a smile, she puckers her red lips into a thin line. "I'm sorry, Y/N." She pulls her shoulders up. "I had a bottle hidden for you, but a new colleague found it and gave it to someone who was looking for it and she thought he was incredibly cute."

You slump your shoulders. But that's not why you're here (although you would have loved some of your wine). "It's all cool, Vicky. I think I'll try something different today," you reply to her and disappear into the liquor section.

You can't miss the crime scene. Where your wine should be, there is only yawning emptiness. But one shelf over, there's lovely wine, and thank goodness for cell phone service, so you can Google which of the bottles in front of you is the right one.

According to an article that lists the best "dry wines for beginners," one of the ones on the shelf in front of you is supposed to be the best and, above all, affordable, so you don't hesitate long and tuck a bottle under your arm. And since you have no idea, you trust the beautifully designed website.

On your way to the checkout, you grab some more gum. As you put your stuff on the checkout belt, Vicky frowns.

"Since when do you drink dry wine?" She looks closely at the label before turning the bottle over. "Ah. This one has a higher alcohol content." She winks at you before scanning your belongings.

"This one's not for me," you counter, handing her the twenty-euro bill you've wedged between your phone and the cell phone case.

Theatrically, Vicky places her manicured hand on her chest. "Who is it for? Is it for a boy?"

You nod and accept the change, which you stuff into your jacket pocket. "In theory, yes. But he's my roommate. And it's supposed to serve as an apology." You shrug.

Vicky raises her eyebrows. "Ohhhhhhhh. What's his name? And how old is he? Is he cute? Do you need condoms? Wait, there should be some around here somewhere." She bends over backwards and rummages around on a shelf, but you interrupt her directly.

"Stop, Vicky. I don't need condoms. We just met yesterday."

She turns back to you and props her elbows on the register. "First of all, that's not a reason." She sticks her left index finger in the air. "And second," her middle finger follows, "if you've only known each other since yesterday, what do you have to apologize for?"

"We got into a fight and I just ditched him." You pucker your mouth into a line. "Was just a stupid move on my part."

Vicky doesn't comment on that, just nods. "Good luck to you, then." She smiles at you. "And next time I'll have your wine in stock again. I'll have to tell my colleague not to just hand over the hidden bottle, no matter how cute the guy is."

You return her smile. "Thanks. See you."

Outside, the sun is almost setting, and when you look at your watch, it's four o'clock. How long have you been out? On the last few feet to the apartment, you take in the last rays of sunlight and think about how best to start the apology right away.

Charles, I'm sorry that I just left you standing there, but -.

Charles, I'm really sorry that I just disappeared, but -

Charles, why did you interfere when you -

Wow. Every version you come up with is horrible. Maybe it's better if you come up with something on the fly. While you're not particularly good at it either, anything is better than what's on your mind right now.

A neighbor smiles kindly at you as he opens the front door and lets you pass. The stairs up to the apartment seem miserably long and the wine bottle in your hand feels like it weighs twenty kilos. Arriving at the apartment door, you tug your jacket into place and take another look at the bottle. What if he doesn't like the wine at all? Or you don't think of anything right away?

What if he throws you out right away without listening to your apology?

You tighten your shoulders and rummage in your jacket pocket for your keys only to find that your apartment key is attached to your car key. And unfortunately, Charles has it. So you have no choice but to knock on the door, humiliated, hoping that Charles is already home.

You raise your hand and hesitantly knock three times, praying that he will open the door for you. Sitting on the steps in front of the apartment waiting for him is certainly more pathetic.

A few seconds later, the door actually opens and Charles is standing in front of you.

"Before you say anything, I'm so sorry I ditched you," you blurt out, and without giving it much thought, you reach out your arm to hand your roommate your apology gift, but Charles raises his hands and shakes his head, taking the wind out of your sails.

It's over. He's kicking you out. You're sure of it.

"Come on in for now. You look like you're frozen through." He takes a step aside so you can enter, and closes the door behind you. He takes the bottle from your hand so you can take off your jacket and hang it on the coat rack. He inspects the label and looks at you suspiciously. "Dry wine? Since when do you drink that kind of thing?"

"Not at all," you answer his question, nervously rubbing your hands together to warm them up. "This one's for you."

Charles raises his eyebrows. "You shouldn't have."

"Yes, it does. It serves as an apology and -"

"No, Y/N," he interrupts, "it really wouldn't have been necessary." He walks further into the apartment and extends his arm, pointing to the living room. On the coffee table are chips, cookies, and fruit gums of every variety. And next to it are two wine glasses and a bottle of your favorite wine.

Confused, you look at him, but Charles just shrugs.

"I should apologize to you. For not being a good friend to you." He walks over to the couch and sits down. Silently, you follow him. As you sit down at the other end of the couch, he turns to you and pours some of your favorite wine into one of the glasses. As you take it, Charles continues to speak. "I had no right to just answer your phone. And I definitely shouldn't have pressured you into talking to me about it." His gaze moves from your face to your hands, which are gripping the glass tightly. "I clearly crossed a line, and I'm so sorry I was too blind to see it."

You definitely didn't expect that. You were more expecting him to yell at you or leave packed suitcases right outside your apartment door. But not that he would apologize to you. And certainly not like this, with candy and wine.

"And I'm sorry I made you feel like you had to run from me. When you got out of the car, I realized what a fuck-up I'd made, and I went right after you, but I couldn't find you."

"I walked through narrow alleys so you wouldn't find me," you admit meekly, and a small smile spreads across his face.

"That's what I thought. But I was worried anyway. I was in a small supermarket not far from here and they still had a bottle of your wine left. I don't want to buy your friendship or anything -" he raises his hands placatingly, "but I figured it couldn't hurt."

You take a sip and warmth spreads through your belly. "So you're not kicking me out of the apartment?"

Charles snaps his eyes open. "Are you stupid? What makes you think that?"

You shrug and put your glass back on the table. "Because I pissed you off like that? And just disappeared?"

"Now listen to me very carefully." He leans toward you a little and folds his hands in his lap. "If I were you, I would have done the same thing. I was definitely too pushy. You don't have to apologize, understood?" When you nod reluctantly, his gaze softens a little. "But you need to stop constantly assuming that I'm going to kick you out of the apartment as soon as something happens. We're friends. And friends who live together fight in between. It's normal."

You don't know how to respond to that. You'd love to apologize to him anyway, but you're afraid he'll interrupt you right away, so you let it go. Instead, you smile gratefully at him.

"I didn't know what kind of snacks you were into, by the way. So I asked a saleswoman what kind of things were the best to apologize with. I think she was flirting with me, though. She suggested chocolate strawberries" he tells you, reaching for the bottle of wine you brought. "She said they were the "sexiest apology" and if I ever needed to apologize to her, she would certainly accept that one." He pours some of the wine into his still-empty glass and sniffs it.

"You didn't look thrilled when you tasted my wine last night. And on a website, this wine was listed as one of the better dry wines for beginners," you explain as he takes a sip. You screw up your face a little and wait for his reaction.

Charles pulls the corners of his mouth down and his eyebrows up in wonder. "That's a really good one. You Googled it well."

For a short time, you sit in silence across from each other, each sipping your drink. You're glad you've put the argument behind you, and the silence is definitely not uncomfortable. But something still bothers you.

You take a deep breath and look up at the ceiling. "That was my ex-boyfriend you were talking to on the phone, by the way."

Charles nods weakly. "I figured as much."

You purse your lips. Wanting to put the argument completely behind you, you want to tell Charles what's going on. To keep him in the loop. After all, he's your friend. And friends tell each other such important things - right?

"We broke up recently. Well, actually, he broke up with me. And not in the nicest way." You take a big sip of your wine and pull your knees to your chest. You feel vulnerable as you tell Charles about it. And for a moment, you wonder if telling him the story is really the right thing to do. But Charles' gaze is gentle, and with a soft nod, he encourages you to keep talking.

"He -" You take a deep breath, feeling the air rattle through your windpipe. "He slept with other women because - um - because I didn't want to sleep with him."

Is that too private for someone you've only known for barely a day? You look at Charles' face for any clue that he doesn't want to hear this, but you find nothing.

"He tried to push me into it, but I just didn't want to, and then he found others and dropped me." You feel tears welling up in your eyes, and you try to blink them away. "Shit, sorry." You wipe away a tear running down your cheek with the sleeve of your sweater. "I promised myself I wouldn't cry over him anymore. He's not worth it. Definitely not."

Charles' gaze lingers on your hands, clutching the glass. He doesn't say anything, but lets you feel your feelings without wanting to interfere. But the way he looks at you, gentle and understanding, you know he would catch you should you fall into a spiral of sadness.

You take another sip. "What did he want?"

Charles clears his throat. "You. Well, he wanted you back."

"And what did you answer him?" you ask him.

"That he should go to hell. From your reaction, it was kind of clear to me that he should stay away from you. I hope that's okay."

A smile spreads across your face and your roommate exhales in relief. "Totally okay." You nod at him. "Thanks."

Charles pours himself some more of his wine. "For what? For crossing boundaries and meddling in your affairs?" he jokes, and the mood lightens a bit.

You playfully wrinkle your nose. "Exactly. Boundaries are superfluous between roommates anyway. Who needs privacy after all?" You give a short laugh, and Charles does the same. "No, let's face it. You stood up for me twice today, and we've only known each other since yesterday. You're a good friend. And I'm glad I met you."

You wonder if that's the wine talking. It sure is. Inwardly, you slap your forehead. Charles probably thinks you're weird for confessing something like that to him after such a short time.

But he doesn't. He smiles at you. "I'm glad I met you, too." He holds out his glass for you to toast. "And I'm very excited to see where the journey takes us."

Just before your glass clinks against his, you pause. "So am I. And as long as we stick to the rules, it'll all work out. And I don't need to lock the bedroom at night."

You grin at each other. The green in his eyes sparkles. Vicky's question about whether your roommate is cute flashes somewhere in the back of your mind. But as quickly as the thought has come, it's gone.

After all, you have enough problems to worry about. And Charles is too good of a friend to waste even a thought in that direction.

"If you don't lock the bedroom, I won't try to murder you during the day," your friend grins. "Sounds like a reasonable deal, don't you think?" He stretches his legs out a little and there are only a few inches between your feet.

Your cell phone, which is sitting next to you on the couch, vibrates, but you don't even think to push the call away. All your attention is on the man in front of you. The man who makes you laugh, comforts you when you cry, and supports you when you need help.

In that moment, you decide that you will do whatever it takes to keep this friendship going for as long as possible.

You bump your glass against his. "Deal."

But the fact that friendships only work when both of you want them too doesn't cross your mind.

next part

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc smut #carlos sainz jr #charles leclerc blurb #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc one shot #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc prompt #formula 1 #Charles Leclerc smut #Charles Leclerc fanfiction

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carmenized-onions · 4 months

Text

Doing Too Much. | House Call

logline; Appliances can reach their breaking point, when you push them too far. Same goes for people.

[!!!] series history, this is the sixth; First, Second, Third, Fourth, Fifth

[New Thing!!] Spotify Playlist, if you like to listen while you read. I listen to it when I write :) Constantly gettin' added to.

portion; 4.8k

possible allergies; eatin' meat, besides that, we're pretty good actually. did somebody say calm before the storm....?

pairing; Carmen ‘Carmy’ Berzatto & Fem Reader (no pronouns, but girl is said a couple times, i believe.)

After this chapter, I'm entering my era of couch hopping as I move to a new city n start a new job. I'm really excited for the chapter after this one, so hopefully I actually get time to write it-- But that's just my lil warning if you're left rereading for like two weeks </3 But I'll def be stalking my activity/inbox so please do yap to me

Monday morning. The next morning after everything. Well, closer to noon than morning, at this point. You’re supposed to have, what, a work ethic this week? After the most insane weekend of your life? No. You’re lazing around and doing fuck all. No matter who calls. Well… Not completely no matter, but like, most people.

When you check your phone, you’ve gotten a text at 6:43 A.M. Unknown number. Ah. Carmen. You put him in as Carmy, and put his nickname as ‘Mister New York’. Listen, old nicknames Mikey ingrained in your brain die hard.

It’s a simple text, deeply un-romantic.

‘Connections Puzzle #342’

Then, four lines of four perfect categories. Flawless. Purple first, even. The hardest category. And then,

‘Morning’

Stupid. Incredibly stupid, to be enamoured, by this. You reply,

‘Good morning!’

‘Connections Puzzle #342’

And then a failed jumble of coloured squares, you get one out of four categories. What the fuck is 'dogleg' and since when has it meant taking a sharp turn? You follow that up with,

‘Fuck you.’

Aside from Carmen, you’ve actually gotten texts from a couple people. Your boss at Eden’s asking if you’re alright. What the fuck did Cicero say? Oh well. You tell him you’ve ‘been better, been worse. Will be okay by next week.’ Perfectly vague, and you still get wired your cheque and tip out. Alright, maybe Uncle J does deserve your free labour.

Speaking of, the next text on your itinerary is from Uncle J, just info for the winter nuptials of Vinnie and Mira. Oh yeah. Three-hundred guests, you remember that part. You also remember him saying it’d be an ‘easy gig’… He did not mention you’d be the only bartender. This is going to be a nightmare. Oh well. You text back that despite it being an open bar you get to put out a tip jar. He just reacts to it, ‘haha’. That sounds like a yes to you.

And then, adorably, a selfie from Syd, wearing the collar and pins you’ve gifted her, under a green sweater. Cutie. You hype her up accordingly.

Besides some texting though, Monday is relatively unbusy. No calls. No emergencies. No businesses knocking down your door for your services. You’re thankful for a break, letting the inertia set in, finally being able to relax after fix after fix after—

Tuesday comes, you get sent another perfect round of New York Time’s Connections around half past six in the morning, along with a good morning text. And again, you fuck it up. You send him your Wordle results this time, as an act of rebellion. You then ask,

‘How’s reworking the menu going?’

‘Hard to say’

‘Ask me tomorrow’

God he’s an awful texter. Horrifically dry. You know you’re down bad beyond a belief when you find that endearing. You spend Tuesday drowning and pruning your plants after depriving them for so long.

Plus working on your art piece for Carmy. You’re pulling out old film photos, a canvas, and a load of bleach—It’s like high school art class all over again— Surprise surprise, the handyman who loves to up-cycle is a mixed media artist. Who could’ve guessed?

While trimming a photo, an exterior of The Beef, a picture frame on your wall falls down behind you, you tut, turning your head to it, chastising the air. “Mikey! It’s a copy, relax! I’ve still got the original print…”

There’s every chance you’re insane— No, you’re definitely insane. But you’re allowed to be, your best friend died, you’re allowed to talk to the air as if he’s still around. Sometimes the timing of doors swinging open for you and things falling down are just too uncanny to not be a ghost.

Wednesday arrives, and again, just after 6:40, Connections results. And the Wordle, this time; plus a ‘Good Morning’. It looks like this is simply just your thing, now. Every morning, the second both of you get up, you send each other puzzles and wish a good morning. You don’t mind that. It’s nice to have a ‘thing’, with someone. With Carmen.

Part way through the day, around two o’clock, you get another text. Two, actually. From Carmen, in quick succession.

‘Are you busy?’

‘Don’t worry if you’re busy. Can call Fak’

You’re quick to reply, frankly deeply offended.

‘Are you fucking firing me????’

‘I’m gonna get ready. Text me details’

While getting dressed, you watch three dots bubble, bubble, bubble… He’s taking forever, just don’t look at it, you’ll get anxious for no reason. No jumpsuit today, you’ve got to switch it up every now and again. Navy cargo pants with the perfect number of pockets and zippers, and an orange Chicago’s Kindest shirt, tucked in. Hm. Looking in the mirror, hickey is still there. Lighter, but there. Foundation? No. You’ll sweat it off and that’ll just bring up more questions. If Syd asks you’ll just tell her you fell down the stairs… On your neck. She's not the type to confront anything remotely sexual anyways.

Speaking of Syd, before Carmen can text you back, she calls you, which is fair— Don’t leave a Carmen to communicate. You stick your phone in the crux of your neck and answer while you pack your utility belt. This feels nearly nostalgic. “What’s fucked?”

Carmen is in the background; you can hear the tail end of a sentence, grumbling. “—Don’t call—”

“My life.” She responds without missing a beat. “And also, Carmy’s stove and oven.”

“Oh.” You squint. “What the fuck happened?”

“Overuse? I actually don’t fucking know, it just stopped working. We plugged it in and out— He even reset his apartment’s breakers. I dunno what’s wrong with it. It’s probably got something to do with him putting his fuckin’ jeans in there.”

“…He what?”

You can hear him in the background, again, clearer this time, grimacing, “What are you doing to me?”

Syd does not mind him at all, continuing, “I know! He’s fucking weird!”

“He’s extremely weird.” You like him a lot. “I’ll be over soon, were you guys like, mid-cooking?”

“Yessir.”

“Christ, alright… I think I have a dual burner hot plate laying around somewhere, you want me to bring it—”

They both speak clearly this time, together, “Please.”

You’ve got a pile of things to give to them anyways, and maybe you miss Carmy’s face. Just a little.

Instead of just buzzing you in, Carmy comes down for you. When he sees you through the door window, carrying a cardboard box, he almost breaks into a full run. He’s somehow opening the door, grabbing the box from your hands, and chastising you all at the same time. “You should’ve left it in the car, I would’ve—”

You step in through the entryway and kiss his cheek, cutting him short. You can’t help yourself, it’s the first time you’ve seen him since and you feel like a giddy teen. The teenage girl in your head is no longer just in your head, she’s fully manning the station. “You’re very sweet. But it’s also not heavy.”

When he continues to be frozen, the regret starts to mount, “Is—Sorry, is that okay to do—?”

“It’s very okay to do.” He manages to reply, with haste. Nodding to himself. “It’s good.” He nods again, then marches off, expecting you to follow to the elevator. You do.

“What floor?”

“Eighth.” He sniffs; you press the button. He stands next to you, looking you up and down. He astutely observes. “Orange.”

“Yeah.” You smirk, looking back at him, “Turns out, businesses can have two colours in their designs.”

What’s a little roasting of fellow small businesses between two not just friends?

“Oh yeah?” Coy, smirking. Oh no. You’ve gotta get the teen off the controls. He tilts his vision to stare at your jacket. Ah. You opted to wear your Carhartt instead of his jean jacket.

“Didn’t wanna give Syd more questions.” She already guessed you’re a sugar baby, you don’t want to wrap Carmen in on that too. Especially since ideally in a month or two he’ll be your boss. Hm. The Bear is going to need an HR.

He hums, nodding. “We’re not telling Syd?”

“What’s there to tell?” You grin, crossing your arms. “You suddenly have free time, Bear?”

He takes a beat, thinking, then just takes a deep frustrated yet amused exhale. “I’m gonna fuckin’…” He can’t think of a threat. “…Get you.”

You snort, “You’re gonna get me?”

“Fuck you—!” “You’re gonna fuckin’ get me, Bear?”

“I—” He tries to hold a straight face, it doesn’t work. “Yeah, I am.”

“Can’t wait.” You nod, grinning, turning back to the doors. “You told me to ask how menu’s going tomorrow.”

“I did.”

“It’s tomorrow.” The door dings, opening on the eighth floor; you step out together. He switches his grip to hold the box in one arm. Alright Biceps, we don’t need to brag here...

“It’s… We’re getting there.” He grimaces. “Syd’s recipes are always… Almost perfect.”

“Ah.” You nod, you know your friend well enough to know where this is going. “And she fucks up one thing hard?”

“Mhm.”

“And when you tell her it’s okay and give her a hand she just feels worse?”

He nods. A touch surprised you’re right on the dot so quickly. “Everything ends up perfect, but I think she’s finding the edits…”

“Demoralizing.” You walk down the hall together, he nods. “I know what she needs, I’ll find an in.”

“You always do.” He hums, you walk just a touch ahead of him, unknowingly walking past his door. He pulls you back by the back of your jacket, making you stumble back into him. This seems to be this villain’s intention; as when you turn around, he’s quick to grab your chin and kiss you.

“It’s very good.” He emphasizes, again, before opening his door and acting like everything’s totally normal and fine. Since when did he turn the tables and make you the desperate one? Son of a bitch.

Ah. Actually, subtract any attraction you had in this moment— He lives like this? Books on the floor, by the window. Jeans on the dinner table, because they were in the oven. The kitchen actually looks alright— You’re almost certain that’s purely for utilitarian purposes while they’re working on the menu. This motherfucker better have a bed frame or him asking you to sleep over would be downright offensive. God, he’s wonderful. God, you’re an idiot.

You find Syd at the table, moping, head in hands. Carmen sets the box down, sitting beside her. You pat the top of her head. She silently moves one of her hands to go over yours. You nod. The silent exchange of girls who know.

“Yeah?”

She nods, grumbling. “Yeah.”

Carmen has no fucking idea what’s happening and he’s never been more intrigued by a near wordless social interaction in his entire life. What? You’re not even making eye-contact. What the fuck is happening?

You fish through the box with your free hand, grabbing a pot. You place it in front of Syd. “Look.”

She peeks through her fingers. A tiny but flourishing nursery pot of basil sits before her. You speak. “You’re gonna hyper-fixate on this basil I’m gifting you, and then you’re gonna crack back into it with the dual burner until I’m done fixing the oven.”

She nods, putting her hands in her lap, “Yes, Chef.”

You pull out a second nursery pot, setting it down for Carmen. “For you.”

“What for?”

“Basil grows like a motherfucker and it’s getting unhinged. I need to start pawning off to people that’ll make good use of it. A-K-A, chefs.” You look at Syd, pointedly, “Talented chefs.”

You hand off the heating pad— Wrapped in brown paper with a card tied to it, to Carmen. “For Nat.” You add, when he looks confused, “Can’t imagine I’ll see her sooner than you will.”

He looks even more confused, when you hand him a spray bottle full of reddish water. It’s one of the good spray bottles, too. Continuous. Carmen wouldn’t know the difference, but you do. “Rosemary. —Water, that is.”

He squints; you clarify, gesturing to your own hair. “You mentioned, losing hair, so— Thought I’d make some, with the trimmings of rosemary I had. Got ginger and cloves in it, too.”

Why have you trapped him in hell? You’ve remembered such a specific off hand from days ago and acted on it? And he can’t express the grandiose level of affection he feels right now? Are you serious? You’re the devil. You’re absolutely the devil. He just coughs out a ‘thanks’.

“And, the pièce de résistance,” You pull out the old ass, boxed up double burner countertop stove. “A stovetop that ideally fuckin’ works. It was my single claim to fame in my college dormitory.”

Carmen’s already opening the box. Sydney smirks, curiosity peaked. “Was that legal?”

“You a fuckin’ RA?” You grin, poking her forehead. “It was not. And that’s exactly why everyone loved me— Didn’t serve them fuckin’ hot pockets.”

The configurations of Carmen’s apartment would be great for literally any occasion besides the current one. The kitchen is narrow, and so, when you pull out the stove to check the back, there’s an estimated no fucking room left for Carm and Syd, so they sit at the dinner table with your stove top. You’d think they’d look like they’re doing a cute hot pot. No. They look like two conflicted and confused twelve-year-olds working on a science project.

So do you, honestly. Wiring is definitely more your speed than plumbing, but if you’re being honest, this is the first oven you’ve worked on without your dad, and you’re having a hard time remembering everything. There’s a lot of embarrassed Googling on your phone, when you're sure they’re not looking. They can’t know you’re even slightly incompetent!

You’re pretty sure it’s just a couple damaged wires, fried from overwork— Easy fix, if you had wire. You don’t. Slightly harder fix. But soldering is your bitch really, you’re in your bag. You look stupid, wearing chunky goggles and a respirator, but you’re in your bag, baby! What’s that one saying? Skills make you hot? That’s not a saying.

But it is true. When Carmen’s able to peer into the kitchen, quickly looking over his shoulder when Syd takes a moment to write a measurement or direction down, you look stunning. Respirator and all. You just look correct there, in the kitchen. His kitchen. So stunning he feels guilty. Do you find it annoying? Constantly fixing errors behind him? Probably. You say it’s not a lot of work, but that can’t be true.

“How’s The Bear, ‘sides menu rework?” You ask, raising your voice in the kitchen.

“S’good.” Carmen. “I’m in hell.” Syd. Not hard to tell which statue is lying, here.

Syd stutters on, “Nat’s takin’ care of baby Michaela— Which is very good and—and cool, actually.”

“But?”

“But we’re back to handling the business side entirely ourselves, for like— The next month. Maybe two? Fuck, are we doing the wedding without her?” Sydney almost burns her sauce, Carmen’s quick to move it off the burner.

He mutters, “Don’t even start to think about it. It’s gonna be fine. We’re gonna figure it out.”

“Oh yeah, wedding— Have you gotten your menu yet?” You call from the kitchen, muffled by your respirator.

“Oh my god!” Sydney exclaims, and Carmen is wincing. She can’t tell you things are going wrong; doesn’t she know that? You’ll fix it, if things are wrong. You always fix it. Fix him. You’re gonna put him in your phone as Carmy Bad News. If you haven’t already. Start a support group with Tif.

Syd continues, “They’re so fucking particular and somehow also vague—Like, ‘we want salmon and chicken’ for main course— What kind of preparation? ‘Surprise us!’ Okay, how about roasted chicken—? ‘Mmmm, no, not that’. I’ve been told ‘non quello’ at least ten times in the last four days.”

No, you’re witty. Bad News Bear. Fuck, that’s definitely his name in your phone, isn’t it?

“Fuckin’ nightmare. Y’know, I’m the only fucking bartender? For like three hundred guests? Thank God they’re not asking for a custom cocktail or anything, I’d lose my shit.”

Sydney laughs, and she steps back into her flow easily, reducing the sauce without burning it, now. She looks more serene than she has in days. What? How are you doing that? What are you doing? Are you casting a spell?

“Can you even fucking imagine what their couples’ cocktail would be?”

You groan from the kitchen, laughing in return, “Not you too, Syd! Must you make me work!?”

“C’mon maestro, make a cocktail!”

“Bleh. Uh… They give long island iced tea energy, but it’s a wedding so— Like a boozier negroni?”

“That sounds fucking disgusting.”

“I didn’t say it’d be good, I said it’d be their couples’ cocktail.” You’re both giggling, like school girls. It’s like you said— You become teens, together.

Despite the fact that Syd is making an incredibly complex dish, and you’re fixing an oven—His oven— Ridiculing the other impossible tasks set out for the both of you… Despite all of that, you’re laughing.

Carmen is, what, nearly thirty? A restaurant owner, with a full crew, who attends Al-Anon, and is only now truly registering the power of an unsolvable burden being shared. Not fixed, shared. Talking. Laughing. God, this all comes so easy to you, doesn’t it?

You finish soldering, test each burner, and the oven— All working, thank God. You quietly cheer in the kitchen, removing your respirator and goggles. “We’re good here! Fixed!”

“C’mere!” Syd calls out to you, and so you do. Eagerly. She hands you a fork. Unprompted, she does the thing. You’d missed the OG, really.

“Beef Oxtail, pressed in a Foie Gras casing, seared. Basted in a King Oyster mushroom sauce. Pureed greens on the side.”

“I never know what the fuck you’re saying.”

She pushes the side of your face with the palm of her hand. “Put it in your mouth and chew.”

You want to make some sort of kink joke, but you respect the already struggling man in the room and take a bite. Hm. Hm. You put a finger over your mouth, swallowing. “...Now it might just be my unrefined palate.”

“That’s why we have you try it.” Carmen pipes in. Syd nods, following. “It’s important to know the baseline.”

“…It’s got like,” You hand the fork to Syd so she can try it, while you think. “A bit of a bitter aftertaste? Which might be the… goal?”

Syd spits it out the second it touches her mouth, she shouts your name, your actual name— A rarity. She’s so terrified that she forgets the Walk-In bit she’s been in on all week. “I just fuckin’ poisoned you— Oh my god?! Are you good? That was— Fuck! You swallowed that?!”

She grabs your face like a concerned mother, also maybe to check if you have superpowers, you’re not sure. All you know is there’s a golden opportunity to make another sex joke and you have to hold back. Life is so unfair.

Carmen takes a quick taste, also spitting it out. “I’ve got it, Chef, don’t sweat.” Immediately looking to the drafted recipe card to see where they went wrong.

Syd almost squeezes your cheeks like a stress ball but thinks better of it, letting go, groaning, beyond frustrated at this point. “You shouldn’t have to fix it— I should fuckin’ have it, at this point.”

Carmen's trying to ignore how much he relates to the sentiment. He's not the focus, right now.

“We make mistakes, Chef—” “Syd.” You snap your fingers, pointing to her, interrupting Carmen. “Can you help me grab something, from my car? It’s kinda big.”

Carmen’s quick to chime in, already going to untie his apron, “I can—”

“No!” You look at him pointedly, trying to communicate through look alone. He kind of gets it? “It’s… Girl stuff.”

Syd squints. “You need me to help you carry a big girl thing?”

“…Are you fuckin’ helping or are you gonna poke holes?”

“What are you actually dragging me out for?”

“Technically I do actually need your help grabbing something, it’s just not a girl thing. And it's also not from my car.”

“Oh?”

You walk out of Carmen’s building with his keys, and gesture out to every apartment buildings treasure trove— The spot everyone throws their furniture when they move out and don’t know what else to do with it.

“Bookshelf!” There is actually one pristine looking bookshelf, a cheap one, definitely just something from IKEA. But it’s better than the fucking floor. “I spotted it on my way in, we’re gonna bring it up for Carm.”

She groans, hating the concept of manual labour, but still walks with you and grabs one end anyways. “Why didn’t you make Carmen carry his own bookshelf?”

“Because you need a fuckin’ pep-talk.” You pick the other end of the bookshelf up. It’s thankfully not that heavy. You walk backwards so you can keep facing Syd.

“…I don’t—” “Yes the fuck you do.”

She kisses her teeth, you frown. “What’s up, Adamu?”

“It’s just fucking annoying— I keep, I keep fucking it up. I keep—Keep—”

“Doing too much.”

She gives you a look, ‘are you serious?’, type look. You continue. “You’re doing too much. You’re not cooking like you.”

“I can cook like Michelin—”

“I never said you couldn’t. Watch your step.” You interrupt, walking over a bump in the sidewalk. “You can do star level shit, Syd. But that’s a grade, not a type.”

She kind of reels, at that. You continue, “You cook great complex dishes, you always have, I’ve tried them. But now, you’re all caught up trying to prove some shit, to Carmen, to—to— Who gives stars? The tires guy?”

She laughs, almost dropping the bookshelf. “Yeah, I’m trying to impress the tires guy.”

“Fuck you.” You snort, stepping up the stairs. “What I’m trying to say is, you should make what you want to eat, not what you think you should eat.”

She nods, you stop on top of the stairs, both taking a second to breathe. “…Thanks.”

You nod back, hands on your knees for a second before standing back up, opening the lobby door. “I’ll always be your cheerleader, Syd.”

“More like coach.”

“Can you let me have one hot girl career, please?”

When you get back up to Carmen’s, he’s already grimacing. You and Syd are split apart by the bookshelf standing between you in the hall. “Fuck is this?”

“It was free and I’ll clean it!” You press your hands together pleading. “C’mon, you can even put your jeans in it!”

“Jeans on a bookshelf?”

You turn to Syd. “Better than the oven.”

“I think he’s doing that to dry them.”

“I think it’s ‘cause he doesn’t own a dresser.”

“It’s both.” Carmen clicks his tongue, single-handedly picking up the bookshelf and carrying inside. Alright, does he need to show off this much? Whatever. It’s definitely not making you feel any type of way at all.

You squint, watching him walk further in his apartment, and then to Syd. You speak at the same time. “He stays doing too much.”

As promised, you wipe down the bookshelf, making sure it’s free of grime and roadside pests. Syd and Carmy work together in the kitchen, with a now functioning oven. You load the shelf up with the books on the floor— Thankfully they’re piled into categories already, so you don’t have to bother him about that.

You’re tempted to clean his living room, but that would probably be rude, right? Don’t want him to take it as you saying he’s a slob. But they are taking a while… Alright, you’ll just throw out trash. You won’t fold blankets or pick up dishes or anything. Just trash! No big! He can’t be mad at you for that.

You pile together the garbage, then sneakily throw it out in the kitchen trash can as fast as you can, before he looks. He’ll think he’s just sleep cleaning, or something. “How’s it goin’ in here?’

Carmen pipes up, eyes focused on the dish as Syd plates it. “Good.” Syd holds the plate in one hand, and silently corrals you with the other to sit at the table. You do. She sets it down the plate before you, handing you a fork and knife.

You look up at her expectantly. She shakes her head. “Eat first, this time.”

She looks serious, so you nod, cutting into the dish. It’s different from the last one. Instead of oxtail, it’s pastry. Or at least, a puff pastry exterior. You’re pretty sure it’s Pillsbury, you remember Carmen buying that, the other day, on your excursion.

Inside it, you believe is the beef oxtail, there’s other things, too. Some sort of sauce, some greens— Oh well, no time to bask in the cross section because Syd looks like she’s about to explode. You take a bite. You nod, chewing.

Syd starts, “Searing the duck caused the bitter taste— So instead of- Of searing the outside, I coated it in the mushroom sauce, the greens— Not pureed, this time, for texture. Your basil, too. There’s a crumble of feta, for a subtle tang. And then wrapped it all together in puff pastry, and baked. It’s sort of like, a varied take on a beef welling—”

“You made a fucking gourmet hot pocket?” You swallow, wheezing. The second you say this, Sydney’s focused face beams, laughing, like she’s just pulled off the most perfect prank of all time.

Carmen was so intrigued and focused on Sydney’s explanation, that you watering it down to hot pocket and being right makes his entire system reboot. He cannot stop smiling, aghast. He's been helping Syd make a hot pocket for the past hour?

“I told you to make what you want and—” wheeze “—you make a fucking hot pocket?!” You double down, laughing with her, she’s trying to defend herself but she can’t stop wheezing in tandem.

“I— I can’t fuckin’ stand you!” You snort, covering your face with your arm. “I hate your ass, oh my God, Syd.”

“Did—” snort “What did you think?” She recovers, slowly but surely.

You shake your head, handing her the fork. “It’s sick, Syd, obviously, it’s fucking perfect… Chef.” You tack on at the end, almost forgetting. “I’m not gonna be able to have an actual hot pocket, ever again. You’ve ruined my life.”

She takes a bite for herself, nodding. She does a small cheer, pumping her fist. “Let’s fucking go.” She points her fork at you— Purely on muscle memory, and you both instantly remember the days of her testing out recipes and you pairing them on first taste. She’d point her fork to you like a microphone. It was a fun game between two nerds.

It’s a reflex response for you, even now. “Barolo. Savory, dry, red. A young one, though. Light body. Could also do an Amarone, if you’re not buried in money.”

She hands the fork off to Carmy to try it, then writes the pairings down, mumbling, amusement still in her voice. “How the fuck do you do that?”

“I honestly don’t know. I think I have some wires crossed.”

“Fire, Chef.” Carmen swallows his bite. “We cannot call it a hot pocket on the menu.”

“Then what’s the point!?”

Leaving Carmen’s place is objectively the most awkward experience— But also the funniest. You offer to wait for Syd and drive her home— You’ll need a second to pack anyways while they make their business plans.

When you do offer, of course, Carmen stutters short, almost asking you again to sleep over or at the very least stay late, but saves it, realizing himself.

Syd accepts the ride offer. You pack up and wait for her to be done. When she is, Carmen offers to carry your things down with you both, in which Syd accuses him of thinking you’re both weaklings— He does not have a defense case for this, he has to let you go. You can tell he wants to kiss you at the door, and you do too. Sadly, you’re equally down bad, but he can’t know that…

You say your goodbyes, Syd helps you load your tools and hotplate in the trunk of your car. Your phone vibrates. Text from Mister New York.

‘Look up I’m on the balcony. 8 floors.’

You look up, sure as shit, he’s out there, cigarette in mouth. Unlit. He waves, you wave back. He texts again, in rapid succession.

‘Thank you’

‘For helping Syd’

‘And the oven and the hot plate and the bookshelf (not necessary)’

‘nbd + I think it’s v necessary’ Does Carmen understand acronyms? You’re risking it, here.

‘and cleaning my trash’ Sonofabitch.

‘ah fuck. I don’t think you’re messy!!! I just wanted to help!!!’

‘I know. You’re you. Be safe.’

Oh goddammit, stupid dry texter, saying something so gah. You jump as Syd taps the roof of your car behind you, getting your attention. Watching from a far distance, Carmen laughs, though you don’t notice it.

“Are we going?”

“Yes! Sorry!” You hurriedly pocket your phone, waving one last time as you get in your car. Syd sits beside you in shotgun, her pot of basil sat safely in her lap. You drive off.

You’re half way down the road, when Syd pipes up again. “So y’all are fucking, correct?”

You almost brake check the guy behind you.

“How do you fuckin’ do that!?”

the opening is dedicated to my dear friend and i who have sent our wordle results to each other everyday for the past like year and a half.

Things of note, one - people usually skip the shit up top-- I made a spotify playlist! Listen if you like, I'm not your dad.

Two, I know this is a self insert right, i know what I set myself up for-- Do you know the hell i am in as a syd x carmy girl writing scenes with both of them and it NOT being them? What have I done, to myself? The only coping mechanism I have is imagining in this universe Syd is a lesbian. And that is helping.

The hot pocket recipe-- Who fucking knows, if that would taste good? I think it would? In theory? I fucked with a dish from Daniel NYC, to make it into a bit. Would it work? ....Beef wellingtons do, I can't see why this can't???? Idk man.

Rosemary water w cloves and ginger does fucking work btw. I am part of the so stressed out i lost my hair brigade. Also basil does grow like a motherfucker.

We're seein' a little bit of that tenseness that comes with being in an 'almost relationship' both of them feel like they've got something they can fuck up now. Poor birds. They'll be okay. Probably.

I'm really excited for the next chapter, I don't wanna give shit away, but it's gonna be,,,,,, different. I haven't seen anyone try this kinda formatting on tumblr before, and I'm excited to see what you think. Between my moving and how complex the choreography of it is gonna be, it's gonna be a much longer minute between this chapter and the next, I fear. But listen, you already knew your ass was gettin' spoiled with a chapter every two days. Hehe.

As always, please come yap to me in the replies/inbox/dms/reblogs. I love to hear thoughts!! It sustains me, baby!!

Next Part

#carmen berzatto #carmen berzatto imagine #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x you #carmen x reader #carmy berzatto #carmy x reader #the bear fanfiction #the bear x reader #the bear #the bear fx #carmy the bear #carmen berzatto x female reader

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kooksbunnnn · 4 months

Text

Lost cause? 4: Can my happiness ever last?

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook× Female!Reader

Genre: Established relationship/ marriage, angst, heartbreak, makeout and kissing mentions, INFIDELITY. Panic attacks (TRIGGER WARNING). Pregnancy (do not read if this content triggers you) also, 18+, This is purely a work of FICTION please take it as FICTION only. Therapy and psychological conversations. Tears, guilt, regret and hope maybe?

Word counts: 10.1k approx

Summary: You always wondered, how would your life turn out to be if you and Jungkook had a baby? So, when you finally conceive and decide to tell your husband that you are pregnant, you didn't expect him to drop this bomb on you. You never would've thought that the surprise you planned would end up in agonized tears because of the shock your husband brings you.

Authors note: Hello, my lovely readers, or should I call you all my bunnnnys? It sounds cute to me hehe, its a cute little name for my kooksbunnnn family, the readers who wait for me, love me, and read the stories I write. Thank you for waiting so patiently, ily guys. Here's chapter 4, I got a little carried away with words, hence the 10k 👉👈 sorry for the long wait once again, enjoy the chapter now. Bye-bye!

Previous chapter

___________________________________________

Seriously breathe louder Ross

You giggle watching an Instagram reel of a scene from friends where a pregnant Rachel snaps at Ross, who was just standing as you put another grape into your mouth from the container Jungkook packed for you with washed grapes.

As you scroll through the comments on the mentioned reel, you can't help but read some of the comments,

Comment: Rachel has such pretty hair.

True. You always wanted to try her hairstyles.

Comment: people should appreciate how the writers gave every female character a different kind of motherhood and different experiences, and it’s beautiful how they portrayed every feeling. Also, I can't imagine how one of them had a miscarriage in real.

Miscarriage. This word itself makes your body shiver with fear, and you immediately feel your throat get heavy. You shake your head at this and scroll further, not wanting to cry for the 6th time on the same day.

Comment: Being pregnant is a magical experience, sure, but it's a whole ass rollercoaster of emotions, and you won't be ready for the amount of mood swings that come with it.

Yea, No shit.

Comment: I love how Rachel had a character development nobody ever expected.

Mhm. True.

Comment: Can’t believe how they ended up together even after Ross cheated on her.

That got personal, guess it was time to delete Instagram.

Month 6 and a half, day 188 since that night and you’re surprisingly alive. The night your heart got broken and you didn't think you would make it through 2 months of life.

More like, you didn't think you could make it alone, without Jungkook. Technically? Yes, you couldn't live without seeing him or hearing him for the start of your pregnancy and now he is always around you.

Always around. Helping you sit, eat, drink, lie, puke, pee, and all this while being at his respectable distance from you.

“Cut yourself some slack, you're growing someone inside you. It's okay to be dependent while you're going through so much..” that's what your mom said when you asked her about your future and if it was a mistake going through with this.

Looking back to her advice from weeks ago you feel like you are being a little hard on yourself. Therapy. Sonograms. Lamaze classes, doctor appointments, morning-afternoon-evening sickness, hormones, mood swings, and whatnot. You feel excited for your baby to come into the world but would it be wrong if you said you were scared?

When you asked these questions to the people around you these were the answers:

Mom: “Yes honey, of course, it’s okay to be scared. Your life will change, and sometimes you feel like you won't know what you’re doing, but trust me having kids is a tiring but very beautiful experience.”

Dad: “Sweetie, it's completely normal. Your mom used to freak out a lot as well when she had you. We’re here for you, it's all gonna be okay.

Namjoon’s wife, Binna: “I have seen my sister go through it and I am gonna be honest, it is difficult and the delivery is gonna be tough but the results make it all worth it. I am so excited to start my family one day, too!”

Jin’s wife: “It's a little nerve-wracking, to be honest, but it's the best thing Y/N, trust me I have never cried harder than when I saw that my test results were not accurate, I was heartbroken. Trust me, this is the best thing that would happen to you.”

Namjoon, Jin, and Jimin in different words but similar contexts: “I don't know much about how you're feeling right now so I can't say I understand but trust me, I’ll be by your side and our dumb little brother’s side always. We’re a family, Y/N.”

Hobi and Taehyung came together while you and Jungkook were having dinner: We have seen our sisters and relatives go through pregnancy, and it honestly looks so overwhelming. We respect women more every day. We’re here always, just one call away.” They had said with smiles on their faces.

Yoongi: “I am not good with words or comforting people, Y/N, but I just wanna assure you that I am always here. All of us will be there for you both. It's not gonna be easy for you, mentally or body-wise, but never feel alone. You’re our family and always will be, no matter what.” He said, patting you like you were a kid while Jungkook sniffled sitting by your side in your sitting area.

The most common advice everyone gave was: Be easy with yourself, mentally, emotionally, and physically. You’re going through a lot.

And it was true. You and Jungkook have been working on your relationship’s progress ever since your first session, and somehow it was going pretty well. You had dinner together and he made sure he attended the sonography sessions and therapy sessions with you.

You had regular sessions together and Ms. Shin recommended you both try talking about the future ahead. No definite planning, just talking about the options.

Wall paints, cradles, toys, shopping, diaper brands, baby food, everything you could see in the future around your baby. Since the biggest reason for fixing your relationship was because of your baby, you needed to familiarize yourself sitting around talking about the little person gluing you both together.

So you both decided to have dinner together daily and decided to make a pre-baby diary while eating. Yes, it was Jungkook’s idea. It's been 8 days since the last therapy session and you have already listed the paint options for the baby’s room, went maternity clothes shopping with your husband and browsed some cradle options.

All was well, right?

On the outside, yes. In your ovaries? No.

The lingering attraction you so badly tried to avoid for the past week is still lingering in the air around you. You roll your eyes as you feel embarrassment creep up your neck at how dumb you have been behaving around your husband.

You feel emotional, horny and everything at once. Absolutely mental.

♡♡♡

“I don't think I am normal anymore.”

The therapist watches you utter the sentence with a manic like chuckle. She must be thinking you're insane. You notice how her hand freezes for a mini second and then continues to pass you the glass filled with water.

“My question, however, Mrs Jeon, was how did your weekend shopping go, but you can still go on. Why would you think such a thought?” Your therapist calmly asks you after waiting for your response to her earlier question for a good minute.

You finally take the glass of water in her hand stretched towards you after muttering a low ‘thankyou’.

After what happened with you and Jungkook and his damn damp hair, you were freaking out. One moment you were feeling like you could cry out of embarrassment but the next moment you wanted to make out with him in the kitchen while he wore his white dress shirt and those grey joggers you always loved.

Okay. You know this is weird, hence the embarrassment. Duh?! Earlier you weren't able to control the urges you felt, the mood swings, the craving, and now?! This fucking arousal.

You made an appointment with your doctor as soon as you woke up the following morning, hoping she would prescribe some pills or any kind of medications to reduce the arousal you felt but it didn’t help you much because there was no way of completely avoiding that.

The doctor didn’t suggest you take the pills that might’ve helped you because you already had a lot of mood swings and anxiety episodes, those pills could’ve worsened them. She makes sense, a lot of sense but only when you thought about it with a cool head.

But at that moment, while she was telling you all that? It's just safe to say you can grit your anger in between your teeth.

Now you were sitting in front of your therapist hoping she would help you reverse the psychology or something which would help you not feel horny for your husband.

‘Your husband who betrayed you and was now trying to make up for what he did which you were okay with and hoping for everything to be better one fucking day ago but now you feel like you wanna kiss him so badly it makes you dizzy’

It was like a mantra, hecheatedhecheatedhecheated, so that you don't pull him in to kiss the shit out of his cute little face.

When you say the same things you thought, your therapist nodded her head noting something down in her notepad. Maybe she thought you were mental.

“Mrs Jeon, I would suggest you control your sexual urges towards your husband by trying to remove yourself from the room he’s in. Considering he doesn’t sleep with you, but if he does-“ but you cut her sentence in the middle by whispering quickly in his defense.

“No-no he doesn't, he sleeps outside in the lobby.” You shake your head not making eye contact, feeling somehow guilty of your husband's daily discomfort.

“And it's completely okay, Mrs. Jeon, to have your space and have some distance. It doesn't make you a bad person.”

Damn, she is good. You need to give her great ratings. You look up at her and watch as she nods her head with a small smile making you feel at ease.

“Did you talk about this issue with Mr. Jeon?” She asks you, and you shake your head slightly. Why do you feel guilty, and what do you feel guilty of most importantly? Nodding to your reaction, she says, “Would you like to discuss why?”

“Would that even change anything?” You say with a huff a second after she finishes her sentence, frustration evident on your face.

Shrugging she says, “It might make things clearer..” her eyes slowly crinkled due to her hair falling in her eyes. Flicking it away she looks at you slightly tilting her head. “Isn't this what you chose, Mrs Jeon? Being honest is what your relationship needs at this point, isn’t it?

Sighing you realize how you might be running away from things, after all, you chose this journey. You both did and somehow you feel you might be turning into an obstacle towards a better family life, yourself.

Turning your head towards the plant in the room’s corner, you speak with a distant voice, “I don't know, All that I have gathered from the problems I have had in my life is that I could win any kind of battle if it were against my mind but if it's my heart I am fighting against? It's a fucking lost cause.”

“What do you think is the reason you would be fighting your heart, Mrs jeon?”

You scoff whipping your head towards her, eyes glistening. Digging your nails before saying what you feel just on the tip of your tongue,

“I love him.”

There's a pause, followed by your therapist humming.

“I love him so much I wanna forgive him and try to make things better but..”

“But..?”

Another pause. A suffocating one.

“I can't seem to do that to myself or my kid. What kind of an example would I be if I give in to something that's not right?!” After you notice how your expressions change into a frustrated scowl in the tiny mirror behind your therapist's head you feel your tears start to fall off.

“I am sorry.” You say sniffling and somehow embarrassed of your feelings taking over you.

“It's okay, Mrs. Jeon, here..” she offered you the tissue kept on her desk, and you wiped your tears chuckling at your situation.

How did your life get to where it was? You have no absolute fucking clue.

♡♡♡

You wince minutely when you reminisce how your last session went with Ms. Shin.

One moment you were crying because you can't forget the night he told you that he cheated on you and one moment you cried because you wanna hug him and then cry into his chest about how your hormones wanted you to kiss him but you can't because then you would cry about how you shouldn't be feeling like this about someone who betrayed you, then again you cry because you can't forget how he betrayed you.

It's like a frustrating cycle. A cycle you wanna throw off of a freaking dam to let it drown and maybe rust when the water starts to break the metal. Maybe that would help break it because there was no way in hell you could succeed in breaking it.

Not to mention how you have to pee every minute of the day and then crave pickles with some honey on them while sitting on the toilet seat.

Sounds tasty, right? Yeah, you shake your head in a quick no too as soon as you step outside and think how pickles would rather taste better with peanut butter on it.

As you deal with your tears and the spasmodic hand stomping on the pillow or table around you to let go of the kissy-kissy thoughts in your head, your husband stays clueless.

Not clueless about the hormones, na-ah.

Just the fact that you stare at him before you slap your hand on the table, or thump down the cup on the table too harshly for anyone to not notice. He tried to ask you if you felt okay. But ended up getting yelled at for not leaving you alone.

You once yelled at him for leaving the windows open which you asked to be left open, saying he should’ve known better when to close them.

This looks cute in shows and movies of how cute the mother-to-be looks yelling at a clueless husband but you on the other hand feel bad for making him feel actually at fault when he has been trying his best to make you feel comfortable.

What does he do after getting yelled at? He apologizes, does what you asked or yelled at him to do, and leaves. He still comes back and eats the dinner your mother made with you and your dad helping her out.

You feel terrible for how you are behaving around him, the worst part being that he takes everything you do and say to him without even reacting ever so slightly. You tried living life with him normally but you can’t forget the thought that lingers in the back of your head; that the favorite part of living your life with him was the affection, the touches.

It's frustrating to say the least that you haven't even hugged him in the last few months, you know that there is a reason behind the distance but since your mind tells you to create boundaries and try things again, your heart doesn’t understand how someone could try to make things better from a distance. Especially you and Jungkook.

He did everything according to how you needed without you telling him. Your childhood therapist once told you no matter how perfect a person tried to be there are certain situations where you can’t control the things the universe decides for you. She said that when you were having trouble accepting that you were the reason one of your ex-best friends changed schools, stating that you made her feel insecure. You had no idea.

So you accepted your fate, then and now as well. Doing things as they go in the flow. You had a discussion with your parents about how you are supposed to be having dinner with Jungkook as advised by your therapist so your mom and dad eat their dinner by 7 o’clock as advised by their doctors while you accompany them by having your soup or tea.

They thought it was a good idea so you agreed to do it.

By 9 o’clock or quarter to 9 Jungkook enters and you have your dinner and the discussion you are supposed to have about the baby.

It has been 15 minutes since your mom and dad went to their room after insisting on sitting with you while you wait for Jungkook to be back. You have your phone in your hand which starts to buzz with Jungkook’s name on the screen with the bunny emoji.

Picking up with a smile you answer to his voice.

God, you missed him.

Yep, you said it.

Picking up he seems like he is on the way and is trying to get his phone back from someone. “Hyung give me my phone back, hold his hands Yoongi hyung, hey-!” yes he was snatching his phone back.

You can hear a bunch of yelling noises in the background and you recognize the screaming voice immediately, Jimin. You shake your head at the chaos and smile putting a grape in your mouth.

“Hey, Y/N I am sorry I am a little late, I just wanted to ask if it's okay with me to bring Jimin and Yoongi Hyung over to your parent's house we have a bit of a situation on our hands.”

“Yeah, of course, kook, it's okay. Is everything okay though?”

Silence.

“Hello?”

“What did you call me?”

Your eyes widen at how you didn't even realize how normal this felt to you. You haven't called him Kook ever since you cried in his car after your first therapy session, always walking on eggshells.

“Y/N?”

Courage. Squeezing your fist and eyes shut you say,

“I called you k-kook. Is that not okay?”

Your leg starts to shake not knowing what to say next.

“No! Fuck, I mean it's more than okay. You know what? Let's not talk about it I don't wanna jinx it.” You can hear him smile and you can't help but widen your smile. It has been so long since you smiled this wide and you somehow feel better.

You repeat the words in your head, Don't feel guilty Y/N, go with it. Go with the flow. Cut yourself some slack. You’re going through a lot, be easy on yourself.

You smile and hear him chuckle before-

“Oh, no hyung not in my car ugh, we’ll be there in 5 minutes Y/N, I’ll reheat the food when I get there don't worry. Yoongi Hyung push his head out the window please-” And he hangs up.

Smiling at the chaotic phone call, you get up to check on your mom and dad if they are still up, wanting to tell them about the guests coming over. But since they were soundly asleep with the nightlights on, you switch them off, regulate the fan's speed, and take the phone from your sleeping-snoring mom’s hand plugging it to the charger and checking if they had water around them.

After checking up on your parents you close the door to their room and walk towards the kitchen to drink some water. Even the small activities could make a pregnant lady tired and the jug in your room was empty so you walked slowly towards the fridge. The pain getting better but still evident in your lower back which makes you put a hand on your back while you open the refrigerator.

Suddenly you spot a Harley bike model Jungkook gifted your father when he came home to meet your parents for the first time. Your father was really happy seeing the model, him being a Harley fan. If age didn't play a role in life your father would've still been traveling with your mom like those couples you saw in uni.

You remember how you and Jungkook loved to travel on his bike, you holding onto him as if your life depended on it, hair flowing from under the helmet and him accelerating the bike through the streets, hills, and empty roads leading to the cabin the whole group planned to visit during his and Namjoon’s collective birthday celebration.

Damn, you were so in love. Still are, and will probably always be.

The group has always been there for you, they're like the family you never knew you needed until they came into your life. The chaos was a part of your life, the screams, the teasing, the weekend game nights, the celebrations, movie nights which turned into everybody and their girlfriends crashing in the lobby on the mattresses Jungkook bought for the night stays.

You remember what the situation was when you met him for the first time six years ago.

♡♡♡

“Damnit Tae, jump outta here.” You argue with Taehyung as the three of you look out the window of your room.

“Fuck no. Are you mental? I’ll die if I jump out of here.” Taehyung says whisper yelling at your roommate, Aera, who rolls her eyes at her dramatic “friend” panicking with wide eyes.

“No, you won't, don’t be dramatic.” You scoff as you push him slightly in the windows direction.

“It's a whole ass floor Y/N, the fuck is wrong with you?” He scowls at you as he regains balance panicking.

“Maybe we should call Jungkook.”

“Jungkook? Jeon Jungkook with that loud-ass bike? Nice. Sneaking a boy out of our room with the help of another boy. Fan-fucking-tastic, Taehyung.” You clap two times with a straight face.

“Guys,” your friend giggles as she tries to focus on the main topic in the room, while Taehyung goes back to sit on your roommate’s bed.

“I think he is right, Y/N, we could at least get help from JK.”

“Mhm, help in getting kicked out.” You mumble not so quietly earning yourself a middle finger from Taehyung and an eyeroll from Aera.

“Fine, do whatever you want.” You say rolling your eyes.

The thing was you were only partly nervous because of your forced eviction but also because you had never met Jungkook, the campus crush. More like the crush of every girl who saw him on his bike. You were not one of them, at least you wouldn't admit that but you wouldn't deny that he was a pretty face to look at and a very hot piece of ass to stare at. The proportions of that man were totally insane.

Tiny waist, big- biteable chest, broad shoulders, thick thighs, luscious hair locks, biceps people could hang on, the all-black outfit, and the very contrasting facial features. If he wore a helmet people wouldn't imagine how the guy had big doe boba eyes and a cute mole under his lips, skin better than half of the girls who spent so much on products. He always had that glint in his eyes making him seem so innocent, innocent but with a physique that can crush people.

You never talked to him so you don't know how he sounds or if he is a rude person. You just know he is Taehyung’s friend whom he hangs out with around the campus.

While you thought about how Jungkook might or might not be your crush, Taehyung called him and you all got up to sneak him out of the house.

“Wait you don't need to come if you don't want to Y/N,” Aera said after looking around the hallways and telling Taehyung to tiptoe downstairs since her aunt’s room was on the same floor as yours.

“H-Huh? N-no I wanna go as well. So that if she wakes up I can tell her we both went out to get some fresh air while the guys ran away y-you know? “

You said. Terrible at lying. You wanted to see the man coming to save his friend.

Your friend was in a hurry sneaking her fuck buddy out so she didn't pay attention to what you said and how you said it. A total stuttering mess.

Walking out of the house you never imagined him to be so..so..so tasty. Thats the only words that come to your mind. He parked his bike at a safe distance because of how much noise it made and approached you guys.

The image in your hand was like the 480p version of how beautiful and ethereal he was but in reality, he had tattoos. Tattoos! Not even a small one, a whole arm that stretched inside his white sleeveless tee.

You thanked the cloth gods for making this particular article of clothing because you needed to see how hot men you would want to eat up looked in it.

“Told you, you would need my help.” He smirks as Taehyung walks past him only turning around to come back and give Aera a quick kiss and then running away again, making her blush.

“Run dumbass, their landlord would skewer us on her cane,” Taehyung says and you chuckle at how exaggerated he made Aera’s aunt sound. At your chuckle, Jungkook looks at you and you pause mid-laugh when you notice him looking at you.

“Hi, I’m Jungkook.” He extends his hand towards you and you blush not knowing how to respond to his raspy voice.

“Yeah, I know you.” You say staring at him with heat on your cheeks and immediately kick yourself mentally.

You sound like a fucking creep. I know you? seriously?

He smiles, “..and you are..?

“Oh I’m so sorry, I didn't mean to be rude I’m Y/N, Hi heh.” You extend your hand to shake his and he whispers your name under his breath eyes still looking into yours.

“Hi Y/N, you’re very pretty.” While he rubs his thumb on your already heating skin making it burst into flames as he rubs it again.

“Kook!” Taehyung yells and you break the eye contact, taking your hand back.

“It's okay don't be sorry, I didn't find you rude rather, I found you cute.” He says as you look at him again. You think it was an imagination of your beauty-struck head or maybe it was due to dark but..did he just check you out?

You give him a confused look at what he said, making him chuckle. He sounds so deliciously hot and raspy. God.

“That you know who I am, considering how you’re always in the art studio. I found it cute.” He says with a smile leaning slightly towards your face and you lean back at the same time he leans in. He stays towering over you and maybe notices your expressions. You just hope he didn't notice how red your cheeks might be.

Does he know about the art studio? Only people close to you knew about it.

Seeing your wide eyes, he straightens up to his original height and chuckles. He sounds so good, it reaches inside you and you knew that you were fucked.

“Kook?” You didn't even notice when Taehyung came back to drag his friend back. Slapping his shoulder and then sprinting towards the bike again.

“Kook, let's go. She switched on some kind of light in her room oh god. She’ll beat your and my asses collectively.” Taehyung yells waving his friends over.

“Hey we’re gonna be in the beat party as well, Y/N lets go,” Aera speaks from the driveway of her aunt's house, slowly retrieving her steps.

But you were stuck. Stuck on how his bunny teeth played with the piercing on his lips. Not being able to bear eye contact with him, you flicked your eyes away.

When Taehyung yelled again from a distance, Jungkook responded with a ‘yea yea coming’ while stepping backward with his white sleeveless tee sticking to his body.

Generally, you didn't like summers but you were so glad it was hot enough that he decided to wear a sleeveless outfit, for you to ogle his tattoos.

Taehyung and Aera were already away from the both of you, Taehyung at a safer distance from the house and Aera still waiting for you at the house hoping her aunt just woke up for her nightly washroom trips and didn't see you guys with these beautiful men.

With a smile on his face, he stepped back facing you. Clicking his tongue twice to get your attention, you looked at him to immediately regret locking eyes with him. He winked at you and said, “See you around, sweetheart.”

You swear you saw his eyes flitting to your lips and then to your skirt that was flowing with the slight wind in the surroundings before he turned around and ran towards his panicking friend.

You knew he was casually flirting and was out of your league. And since you didn't believe your luck would suddenly turn out to be on your side you didn't think of his wink as something more than something casual.

But goddamnit, the crush you never admitted to, was finally admitted in your heart.

♡♡♡

You smile as you pick the model in your hand at the fond memories of how you tried so hard to remain just friends with the guy even though he hung out with you daily, accompanied you in your art studio confirming he knew about you before meeting you. You never knew your friendship could be more than what it was but maybe growing up and getting jobs made you want to prioritize yourself and your wants, so you decided to tell him how you felt but he beat you to it three days before you planned on confessing.

“Sorry sweetheart, wanted to kiss you as my girlfriend on Valentine's Day without the fear of rejection in the back of my brain.” That's what he said before he kissed the living daylights out of you on the gazebo at your favorite park.

You smile remembering how he took you to the park saying the cherry blossoms were blooming early that year, you believed him nodding with excitement and you went along with him running and holding hands. Reaching there you were sad that no blossoms were blooming but then he gave you the promise ring he ordered from the vintage store you loved so much. You knew it cost him a lot but when you asked him about it he just chuckled deeply avoiding that question and before you could pick that topic again he kneeled on one knee and asked you to be his girlfriend officially.

You smile at the memories and keep the bike model back on the shelf, the flashback coming to a halt as you come back to the living room when your phone buzzes with your husband's name on it.

He didn't ring the doorbell nowadays to be cautious in case your parents were asleep. So you went to the door and opened it already expecting Jimin leaning on Jungkook’s shoulders while Yoongi just snickered at his younger brother, seeming unconscious but Jimin was very much awake, also very very drunk as he clung to Yoongi telling him everything was going to be okay. Jungkook held three bags as he gave you a sheepish smile at his Hyungs’ behavior.

“Yes, Yes, Jimin. It's gonna be okay.” Yoongi held Jimin very firmly while giving you a small smile before asking where to put him so that he could blubber nonsense somewhere your neighbors wouldn't hear.

Jungkook chuckles and leads them to the guest room while muttering a ‘hi’, looking at you from head to toe as if checking if you had any injuries.

“Hi,” you whisper, enough for him to catch your voice.

“How was your day?” You ask trying to take the bags from his hand but he tilts his body giving you a look that says ‘Really?’.

Sighing with a smile, you close the door and follow him inside.

“It was good- Oh shit the guest room door is locked. Wait hyung let me get the key” he put the bags on the counter while a grunting Yoongi held a wobbly Jimin in his hands.

“Wow realized it so soon,” Yoongi says sarcastically l as Jimin looks at you with a smile on his face. Gasping dramatically, he removes himself from his brother's shoulders and comes towards you, slightly tilted, but he somehow reaches you.

“I can see your baby.” Your eyes widen at what he said and you scoff a laugh as Jimin kneels down in front of your belly.

“He means you’re showing, and he is noticing that now, only, he sounds creepy as fuck.” Yoongi walks back to the sofa and sits down with a long sigh.

“May I please?” He says as hovers his hands over your belly with big puppy eyes and you chuckle at how patiently he wants you to answer.

“Yes, Jimin you may.” You say with a laugh and he whispers to your tummy hovering his hand above it like it's a crystal ball.

“Hi tiny person, I am Jimin, your godfather..” he giggles at the end of his sentence while you hear Yoongi chuckle from the couch.

“The fuck? When did we decide that hyung?” Jungkook stands next to you with keys hanging from his fingers, narrowed gaze focused on his elder brother.

“Shhhhhh” Jimin shushes Jungkook loudly almost spitting on your belly. You laugh as he looks pointedly at Jungkook.

“You don’t get to decide that. Dumbass.” Jimin slurs out and tries to get up grabbing the trousers Jungkook wore, almost making him fall over with his weight.

“Hyung, fuck you’re heavy when drunk.”

“I fucking know right? I don’t know how that happens..” Yoongi mumbles typing something on his phone, stretching his neck sideways to pop the strained muscle.

Jungkook stumbles while you also try to help him balance Jimin by bending slightly to keep a hand on his shoulders, but then you remove it as Jungkook whispers ‘I got him I got him’ assuringly not wanting you to take any strain.

Smiling to yourself you walk over to the couch adjacent to where Yoongi was sitting, asking if he needed water or anything like that.

“Nah I’m good. Thanks.” He waves his hand as he keeps his phone aside watching how Jungkook manages to drag Jimin back.

“...You’ll look good in a tutu as well..” Jimin says to Jungkook poking a finger to his sides continuously. “You know a white one with stars on it, I’ll gift it to the baby so that you can match your outfits then” Jungkook rolls his eyes in annoyance as Jimin’s voice fades into the guest room Jungkook opens for him to sleep in.

“Let me go check up on him yeah?” Yoongi says softly getting up from the couch, picking up a banana on the way to the guest room. Raising one of his brows and the fruit in the air as if asking for permission to eat it. You tilt your head with narrowed eyes passing on the message, ‘You have to ask?’

He smiles slightly shrugging and heads towards the guest room while pealing the banana.

“Jungkook, is he under control now or still wobbly- oh, fuck no-“ Yoongi asks from outside of the room but then pauses in his tracks as you hear Jungkook whine slightly out of disgust and you immediately get up feeling a slight ache in your lower back due to the hurry.

“Is everything okay?” You ask concern evident in your eyes.

Yoongi chuckles and moves away from the door, shaking his head. “Not gonna eat this now, sorry, Y/N.” He says, still laughing.

“Oh no did he-“Before you could say something Jungkook stomps his way out of the guest room and you immediately feel nausea entering you seeing your husband's sleeve covered in vomit.

“Hyung could you please help me heat the food? I’m gonna go take a shower, sorry hyungie just please-“ he continues walking towards the common bathroom at the end of the hall.

“Sure” Yoongi chuckles moving towards the fridge.

“I’ll help you..” you take a step towards the crockery cupboard.

“No, I’m fine. I’ll do it, you sit.” He says pausing you midway.

“No Yoongi lemme help..” you say but he just points the small spoon towards the island chair.

“It's okay Y/N I’ll do it.” He says nodding while opening the Tupperware filled with the various side dishes and the tofu-miso stew.

“I just don't wanna trouble you Yoongi, thanks though.” You say giving up on offering help as he heats the food one by one in the microwave.

“Oh it's not for free, I am taking the godfather’s title in exchange for this.” He smirks glancing at the room Jimin slept in.

“Yeah okay, try beating Jimin for the title. You chuckle looking in the same direction for a second and then at the man heating up the food. While he just gives you a small laugh while warming up the rice in the cooker, mumbling, “We’ll see who wins.”

You smile and pat your feet on the ground in a rhythm as Yoongi places the food on the kitchen island. You feel guilty for making him do this but he has already rejected your help three times so there was no point in arguing over it.

“Y/N?” Yoongi whispers looking at a plate in his hand.

“Yea?”

“I know it's none of my business and I should not even say something about this but can I just say it's really nice that you’re trying again?” He says lifting his head to look at your reaction to what he said.

You feel yourself freeze, this is the first time you had a conversation about your situation with Jungkook, the cheating, and the decision to try again. You sure talked about the pregnancy and yes there was always that lingering awkwardness in the air but this was new.

“Yea..” you sigh looking at your lap for a second and then lifting your head to give him a soft smile.

“Not everyone is lucky enough to get a chance to revive their relationship.” He says still looking at the plate while tracing the pattern on it with his index finger.

You know that his relationship ended badly, you knew how much he loved his girlfriend, you know he acts like it's okay but his dark circles tell another story, you know he looks thin and exhausted all the time but acts like it's nothing.

You know it's not nothing.

“Yoongi, I am sorry about-“But before you could finish your sentence he laughs almost in pain.

“It's okay Y/N, it's done, she is gone. She is happy without me and I can't change that.” He says and you feel your heart break at how small he sounds.

“It sucks but it's true.” He says softly, half to you half to himself, still trying to process his grief over the relationship he lost. After an uncomfortable pause, he continues.

“I saw him Y/N,” he points his chin in the direction of the washroom Jungkook was taking a shower in when you look at him confused at the change of topic.

“..and don't think I am taking his side 'cause he is like a brother to me but I say this honestly, he was devastated while he was away from you.” You just stare at him with eyes round and wide not expecting this conversation to go this way.

“He forgot to eat and sleep, just kept asking Jin Hyung and me if we saw you or if any other of guys saw you.” He says while you look at him nervously talking about the topic, picking his nails.

“Do you remember the time you were at the hospital due to your abdominal pain?” You nod at his question feeling your throat tighten up uncomfortably so you divert your gaze down at the plate with little blue flowers printed on the ceramic.

“He ran to the hospital since his car was still parked at your previous address.” Your eyes widen and you whip your head toward the man standing in front of you.

What does he mean he ran?

“What?” You whisper.

“Taehyung had a night shift and he was alone at the apartment. I tried to tell him to wait for me to pick him up when he called to ask if Taehyung left office or not, but he just hung up saying it would take too long.”

“So he ran to you.” You feel your throat tighten as humanly possible, eyes burning.

Wasn’t Taehyung’s house almost double times the way compared to your route connecting your house to the hospital? You can't even comprehend how he felt when you didn't even talk to him that day.

Shouldn’t you feel like he deserved to feel like that? Shouldn't you say that he did that to himself? That was what you should've said right? But your heart thumps harder every second making your eyes spill the tears gathering in them.

You remember Jungkook was really out of breath and was also wearing different slippers that day.

“Since it was pretty late, he couldn't even book a cab quickly..” Yoongi looks at you and notices how your gaze is zeroed onto him and immediately understands your expressions.

“Hey, I am not trying to make you feel bad or something like that, what he did and what you guys decided is totally none of my business but I just wanted to tell you that giving a second chance is not easy and I really wish things work out for your relationship. I really appreciate you both working through so much stress you know? I can see what his vision meant when he wanted to quit last month.”

“What?” You whisper

“No no, he doesn't want to quit now, I mean after what you both decided Namjoon talked to Mr. Park and handled it..” when Yoongi doesn’t see you respond to whatever he said he realizes that you look lost.

“You don't know, do you?”

“Don't know what?” You whisper again, heart racing. Why do you feel you're not gonna like what he is gonna say?

There is a pause, a very uncomfortable pause. He visibly scans your face and inhales sharply as if deciding against or in favor of telling you about the whole situation.

You clench your pajama pants into your fists as your hand rests on your lap. The kitchen felt stuffy all of a sudden. This might seem like an overreaction but your body feels defensive all of a sudden, deciding between running away or ripping the bandaid off.

Deciding on the latter you ask,

“Yoongi, please tell me?” You request softly and at your almost inaudible request, Yoongi sighs, giving up. He shuts his eyes for a second and then looks up smiling sadly at you.

You hold your breath.

“Um, he was promoted to be the next VP of the agency, and uh..” he rubs the back of his neck looking away, avoiding the eye contact with you.

“And he rejected it?” You whisper and Yoongi nods, still not looking at you.

“The job required him to give more time into his job, more hours away from home. From you and her.” He looks at you and then points his chin in your tummy’s direction.

“So when they told him the details about the hours and the business trips, he immediately refused. Since he was the most eligible person for the job, the CEO, Mr Park..” he says,

“Mr. Park.” You say at the same time nodding.

“Yes, Mr. Park tried convincing him saying he’ll adjust according to your due date and whatever changes Kook would want to his schedule but this kid..” Yoongi chuckles shaking his head, “..rejected it, saying if he had to quit the job he would do it but he would not add onto whatever hours he was working.”

“Then suddenly..” Yoongi picks up a tangerine from the fruit bowl and starts peeling it.

“He came up with an idea of actually quitting in order to give more time to you and your child, so when Namjoon said and I quote, ‘Y/N is gonna kill you if you do that, she knows how much you worked for this’ Jungkook said that you both decided mutually that rejecting the promotion was okay and you were okay with whatever he decided about his job. Which…looking at you right now doesn't seem like it.” Yoongi looks at you with a hesitant expression, offering you the peeled fruit.

You feel your ears heat up and not out of good reason, you are actually mad at him. You were hearing all of this for the first time and you can't believe he backed off from the job he got offered after working so hard. The reason he used to work his ass off, extra time, no holidays, always punctual, not caring about his meals and whatnot, and then just fucking backed off?

"When was this?" You say gritting your teeth, eyes glistening with angry tears, eyes still on Yoongi.

You take the piece of fruit from his hand and shove it in your mouth, eyes red with tears in them.

“Y/N..”

“Why didn't he tell me? And wait a minute he said it was a mutual decision?! What the hell?”

“Y/N, he must have had a reason for saying so, he did explain the reasons and it sounded like he gave it a lot of thought. “

“Don’t you mean WE gave it a lot of thought? hah.” You say chuckling bitterly, swallowing the fruit, your hand going through your hair in frustration as you face the direction where your husband showers unaware of the angry volcano on the other side of the bathroom door.

“What the hell is wrong with him?!” You almost scream but lower your voice remembering your parents are asleep, immediately looking around warily and Yoongi does the same, with similar expressions on his face.

“Sorry, I just feel so mad right now.” You say squeezing your eyes shut, speaking through your teeth.

“I guess you should talk to him,” he says looking at you softly.

“You’re damn right I will-“ you say

“But not now, privately, okay?”

You look at him breathing heavily, cheeks wet with tears, his eyes pleading to not lose your calm immediately. You look at his anger and countless emotions swirling in your mind, nose flaring.

“Ah, okay fine.” You say throwing your hands in frustration, coming back to wipe the tears off your cheeks.

The next few minutes Yoongi tried not to talk about anything and you just swirled your spoon in the spoon Yoongi served for you. He constantly made sure you were sipping the soup, giving you water, and peeling another tangerine for you.

He almost sighed in relief when the bathroom door clicked open and Jungkook came out of the washroom. The steam rushed out of the white-tiled space along with a drippy Jungkook and a goddamned towel around his waist.

You feel madder now. Is that even a word? You don't care because that's how you feel. Madder.

Remember when you said how your emotions were on a roll these days? Yea. It was an understatement because the moment you saw your husband with that damned towel hanging low on his hips your anger turned into angry horniness, you wished, only for a second, but wished Yoongi wasn't here so that you could straddle the half-naked guy and ask him about the stupid decision he made.

Although Jungkook had immediately rushed into the room to get some clothes on him it was enough to make your ovaries light up on fire. You're mad and horny, two things that don't go well for you. Especially not in this state.

"Hey guys I am sorry, I had to wash off all that puke stench. Why didn't you guys start eating yet?"

"I don't know maybe you took very long to shower." You snap at your husband and he freezes in his tracks to get the plate.

"Y/N, I was there for only 10 mins."

“I don't know, felt like 10 years."aAt your tone Jungkook looks at you concerned and then at Yoongi who watches awkwardly, the whole scene unfolding in front of him.

"Guys you know what I think I am gonna head home, I have eaten with Jimin earlier and need sleep."

“No- yoongi eat please-“ you request feeling guilty for making him awkward.

“Yes hyung, please finish your dinner.” Jungkook says, looking at his hyung but then flicking his gaze back at you.

“No no its really okay.” Yoongi says, already walking away from the island.

"Okay, hyung." He says after a second his eyes wandering back to you observing your sour mood. Eyebrows furrowed with thought while you just chewed on the rice mixed with the curry not looking at Jungkook after waving to Yoongi.

Yoongi walks towards the doorway with slow steps, the footsteps echoing along with the tinkled spoon made inside the curry bowl. He grabs the keys and walks towards the two of you, giving you a nod and patting Jungkook’s back.

"Take care Y/N and you too, kook." He stares two seconds longer at the younger male and then nods at him. Jungkook gets up halfway to which Yoongi waves in a signal for Jungkook to not bother seeing him off.

The door clicks shut leaving you and Jungkook in silence.

"Y/N wha-"

"Eat, Jungkook."

At your stern tone, Jungkook flinches and just resumes eating in silence. Silence for almost 10 minutes. 10 slow and irritating minutes. It was like the clock ticked 10 seconds forward and then 40 seconds backward. The silence added to the awkwardness you both felt, making the time more unbearable.

Again, did you mention slow?

All the thoughts come back to your mind, every emotion holding your neck in a chokehold, everything that you’ve felt since the day started comes back. The conversation with your mom about how she asked you if you wanted to move back in with ever, you thought your mom wanted you to leave so you cried. All the emotions you felt then catching up to you.

The thoughts of being alone with him made you happy and cry at the same time in the afternoon while you finished working on the report your seniors asked you to finish before your leave started. You feel all the emotions you felt while rewatching the notebook in the evening before dinner. You feel all the emotions at once, those emotions which you felt when Jungkook called you from his car and, also when he called you from his office to check if you had your medicine.

The emotions of frustration and anger when Yoongi told you about the job offer and how your husband rejected it. The thoughts about something bad happening to your child come back and make your head dizzy. It's too much at the same time. You're happy that he is eating his food in silence because if he did say anything before you finish, you might actually run to the bathroom to vomit all of your emotions.

After minutes of frustration and anger and sadness and silence, you finally got up and almost threw the plate in the sink, Jungkook tried to get your plate but you just brushed past him huffing finally making Jungkook ask you the question you didn't want to hear and hear at the same time.

You wanted to talk to him about the whole thing and didn't at the same time. You were on an emotional rollercoaster, and Jungkook was gonna be the bird that hit the coaster blades, getting hurt.

"Y/N did I do something wrong?"

"Oh, do you do anything right these days Jungkook? I don't think so." You chuckle throwing the glass of water into the sink thankfully not breaking it.

Turning towards your husband, you immediately regret saying what you said because he just looks like a kicked puppy. Big eyes filled with gloss, nose red, and wobbly chin. His features make you feel like the worst human being on this planet.

"Y/N, I am sorry for whatever it is but can you tell me what's wrong?" He whispers looking- no, pleading with his eyes as you stand like a wall in front of him.

"You tell me, did you do anything to make me feel stupid and pathetic recently?" You say pointedly. Venom. Pure venom.

"Baby.."

"Don’t. Don't call me that." You say firmly.

"Shit- I am sorry Y/N please tell me what happened..wait-" You push yourself away from the counter instantly feeling the pain in your lower back.

“Bab- Y/N wait.” He rushes to your side holding one of your hands and one holding your waist, giving you support but somehow his touch stings, in the best way. You hate your mind and heart. You just hate it.

“No, I can walk myself I am not a toddler.” He doesn't let go of your hand even though you tell him to, he helps you walk towards your room. You try to tell him that you can walk alone but he doesn't listen instead he just hums or mutters 'I know' and it infuriates you more.

Why isn’t he saying anything? You’re literally acting like a spoiled kid right now.

Opening the door he walks you inside the room and helps you sit on the bed. As you take heavy breaths placing a hand on your chest you feel how rapidly your heart raced.

Removing the lid of the glass sitting on your nightstand, he helps you sip some of the liquid. You feel tears in your eyes and when he removes the glass from your lips he just smiles sadly at you and wipes the tears from your face with his thumb.

Leaning into his touch you say, "Why are you okay with me being like this to you?"

Okay, that's a dumb question ask Jeon Y/N, you're mad at him but just looking at him you feel like you are treating him like shit for something he doesn't deserve. Of course, he cheated on you, of course, you want to not love him because of that, and of course, your heart aches when you think of the betrayal but can you ever unlove him? Can you ever hurt him knowing you're gonna hurt him and not feel bad? Can you ever just look at him and feel nothing for him? Can you ever not love him?

Your head feels buzzed and when he speaks and your anger explodes.

"I deserve it, baby." You scrunch his t-shirt in your hand and pull him towards you, making him almost fall on you but he regains his balance by placing one of his hands on the comforter. With wide eyes, he just stares at you and the way your eyes brim with fresh tears. He tilts his head as if feeling guilty for the tears but you don't let him say anything.

"Why?" At this he looks at you confused.

The other tattooed hand finds its way on top of your wrist holding his t-shirt and you feel your sanity fly away for a second but at his confused expression, you feel your anger come back.

"Y/N what-" he sputters with big eyes

"Why did you reject the job offer?" you finally say.

Pin. Drop. Silence.

"What?" he breathes out.

"You think you can make that big of a decision by yourself? " you say sniffling.

"How did you-"

"How did I know? How about, why didn't I know?" You raise your voice slightly, and he shuts the door so that your parents don't get their sleep interrupted, tilting slightly towards the entrance, your bed not being that far from the door.

"Y/N I am sorr-" you cut him off mid sentence.

"Sorry? How many things are gonna be okay just because you apologize Jungkook?! It was your dream, you worked so hard for it.." you say feeling tears spill out of your eyes and when he just looks down at your lap with his lips twisted in a straight line guiltily, you can't help but yell at him a bit, "What the hell is wrong with you?!"

You didn't realize when your hand shifted from the t-shirt's neckline to his neck. You realize that only when his eyes shut for a second at the feeling of your hands on his face, the other hand coming to sit on top of the comforter on the other side of your body. Holding onto his face you asked him the question with big teary eyes, wet cheeks, and a wobbly chin.

"Tell me, kook?"

Sighing he answers, "Baby, they wanted me to go away."

"Don't lie to me, Jungkook, please. Yoongi told me they were ready to fix the schedule according to you -"

"And you think they were gonna do that for me forever?" He asks.

"Why did you say that I agreed then? Why did you lie? Why didn't you come talk to me? Do you think I wouldn't have understood or that you think it's not important for me to know?"

"Would you have let me quit if I wanted to?" He asked instantly.

You pause. Dammit.

"You see? That's why I didn't tell you. You're already handling so many responsibilities, I didn't wanna worry you more." He says, eyes turning soft.

You look at him. Eyes looking at him trying to find dishonesty, the thing was, Jungkook doesn't lie. Even after he did what he did, he came out to you truthfully. It hurt but you're where you are because he was honest. It's the bare minimum, honesty, but its rare. At least in your experience. But not with Jungkook. He can't lie.

"They were willing to change my schedule for me only until she is born.." he says looking at your tummy and then lifting his eyes to look at you.

"..I can't risk being away from you again. It might sound like I am lying but Y/N, baby, I don't wanna be away from you even for a single second. I wanna prove myself to be worthy of a second chance. I wanna be worthy of you and her. I can’t imagine my life even for a second without you or her. You can push me all you want, you can yell at me all you want but don't tell me that I should've chosen a job and not my family. I know I don’t have an answer for why I did what.." he pauses gulps and continues.

"...I did, I myself don't know why I did it, and trust me if I could turn back the time I would. But baby..." he puts his hand on yours that is resting on his cheek waiting for a second, barely visible, but he waits for some kind of negative reaction to him touching you. When he senses none, he continues,

"...I love you, and I will love you for my whole life, I will love you and my family until I breathe. I am so sorry for fucking things up but I want to fix them, I can fix them, we will fix it. Just don't please.." he squeezes his eyes shut slightly squeezing your hand as well.

"... don't ask me to go away from you. I can't live away from you. I would quit my job if that's what it takes to be with my family, to take care of my family, to take care of you, and to take care of us. Please tell me I can be with you, can you please tell me you don’t want me to go away? Pleas- “

You tell him exactly that, but not verbally because wasn’t it ironic how he feels sorry for not knowing why he did what he did when you don't even think of any second thoughts before you do what you do, without knowing why.

Lips crashing on his, you shut him up with an answer you feel him absorbing inside him. He freezes when you kiss him, his breath stuttering when you move your lips against him. You squeeze his t-shirt in desperate need, and you feel him flutter his eyelids against your cheekbones, your tears mixing with his, and he kisses you back.

Does it last? Does your happiness last? No.

As soon as he moves his lips, you hear him sniffle and break the kiss. His eyes are still red, and his cheeks are slightly wet as well. He sniffles again, but the only sound you can hear is your heartbreaking because he moves away.

Away from the bed. Away from the comforter. Away from the kiss. Away from you.

He gets up and takes a step back, shaking his head, eyes squeezed shut. He curses under his breath as if regaining his composure while you just stare at the space where he was sitting earlier.

“I- I am sorry, Y/N. I shouldn't, I can't. I am really sorry, I shouldn't. I just shouldn't. I am sorry.”

And he leaves the room, shutting the door, not completely but leaving it slightly ajar. It's just like he does always. You hear the kitchen tap opening. He probably is doing the dishes. You hear everything from outside the door, but you feel like there's radio silence in your room.

A low beep-like sound ringing in your ears, embarrassment? Hurt? Love? Anger? Betrayal? Pain? Need? Desire? You feel so much at once, and you don't know what to do with it. This is getting so much more fucked and somehow you both find new ways to make this way tougher than anyone can imagine.

After some time, you hear the lights outside click off, and you can't help but wish he came to you. He does, but only to keep a fresh glass of water on the nightstand. He wishes you good night in a whisper, glancing once at your face and then,

...leaves.

Well, shit.

___________________________________________

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aakeysmash · 6 months

Text

Roommate or boss?

Pairing: f!reader x Katsuki Bakugou.

Previous part: part 4.

Next part: part 6.

A/N: High School Musical references (watch the movies!!!). I recommend you to read part 1 again, because a lot of references I made here are also said in the first chapter. This could look like a filler chapter, but it’s really important for future developments!

Word count: 2.2k.

You’re relaxing on your bed on a deserved day off, brand new AC on and a cold glass of orange juice in your hand. You’re scrolling on your phone, chuckling at various memes and sending most of them to Ochaco, who will probably complain about finding 62 videos from you and having to react to each one. You’re planning on doing absolutely nothing today, just munching on snacks and sleeping. Maybe you’re going to put on that show you’ve been wanting to see. This is the life, you think.

“FUCK THIS SHIT!”

You’re startled out of your mind, again. Katsuki has been screaming at the top of his lungs since this morning, but you don’t even know the reason why. You hear his stream of curses from the wall between your rooms.

You’re very annoyed: he’s ruining your perfect day off. How dare he. You throw punches on the wall for the upteenth time, hoping he will stop or go outside to do whatever is bugging him.

“Stop fucking doing that!” He screams back at you, and you get even angrier. You decide you had enough, so you get up from your bed and march towards his room. You throw his door open without caring about his privacy.

He snaps his head towards you, scowling worser than usual.

“D’you ever heard about fucking knocking?” He barks at you. He looks disheveled: his usually spiky hair is a mess, and you assume he keeps on yanking it; you can feel his eye bags, and he probably didn’t have a good night of sleep in two weeks.

“Damn, you look bad” you mumble looking at him from head to toe. You lose a bit of your anger and almost feel bad. Almost.

“Well, I don’t care, you’re ruining my perfect day, so if you need to scream go out” you say glaring at him.

“This is my fucking house too” he snarls. “If I want to scream because I don’t want to do this shit, then I’m gonna do it. You’re free to leave and never return” he responds looking you up and down. He’s got a point.

You scoff. Sometimes he really has the audacity to speak when he shouldn’t be speaking. “What are you even doing? What’s this big thing that’s bothering you so much?”.

He grits his teeth and stays silent. The way he doesn’t want you to know the reason why he’s so angry just makes you become more curious. Oh, I’m about to get so annoying when I find out. Just so you wait, Katsuki.

“Come on, don’t be a kid. Let’s make a deal: I’ll make you a cup of hot chocolate if you tell me” you try to bribe him. In one of his nicest moments, he complimented the way you know how to “make it just right”, just to take it back immediately after noticing those words left his mouth. Also, your roommate likes to eat and drink hot things even if it’s summer. He’s a weirdo.

He looks conflicted. He really wants a sweet treat, and he knows that he’s not capable of doing it the way you do (he already tried and failed). He blames it on the fact you keep on saying that you add a secret ingredient that he doesn’t know, because there’s just no way he’s not good at doing everything he puts his mind into. He ponders about it for what feels like 3 minutes, where you both stay completely silent.

“I’ll even add whipping cream.”

You try suppressing your grin: he’s sold, you see it in the way he grits his teeth even harder. “I’m revising my thesis’ grammar.”

You instantly become smug, all your anger forgotten. Bingo. “The big buff Bakugou Katsuki is mad about some grammar? Really? I thought you were stronger than that, pussy” you tease him with a smirk on your face.

He tries throwing you one of the books he keeps on his desk, but you dodge it. Then you lean on his door and cross your arms, while he goes on and screams “GET OUT! You’re bothering me even more”.

“Stop screaming, oh my god”, you whine. “What would it take for you to return being the quiet kid at the back of the class? You’re so annoying like this” you say exhausted. You get one day off in 3 weeks, there is no way he’s ruining it. You’re finding joy in annoying him, though, it’s so fun.

“I was never the quiet kid, I ain’t no loser like you. Get the fuck out of my room” he bites back. He doesn’t need to know it, but you were indeed the quiet kid.

“Well, guess I won’t help you then” you reply, shrugging. You didn’t even ask if he wanted your help, and you didn’t come in his room to help him, but now you’re just rubbing in his face that you can go and do absolutely nothing for the rest of the day, while he boils himself away in his despair.

You start closing his door, yawning and teasing him some more. “Continue screaming while I go and watch Love Island without you”. You have to turn around to hide your expression.

You hear him curse under his breath. “Fuck, wait, I really wanna see that”, he says, sounding desperate. “Aren’t you enrolled in literature or some shit?”.

You face him with the biggest devious smile you can muster. “Yeah, why?”

The vein on his forehead is about to pop. “How good are you at correcting grammar?”, he says.

You look like you won the lottery. “Ooooh you want my help? Do you want me to revise your little thesis for you? Little ol’ me? Weren’t you saying to get the fuck out?” You say walking towards his still sitting form. He’s super rigid, like asking you to help him is requiring him all the strength of the world and the planets and the solar system together. He closes his eyes and rubs his temples. He tries the breathing exercises they taught him in highschool to manage his fury, when he really started managing his anger issues. You’re getting on his last nerves, but revising all he wrote in months is also getting on his nerves.

“Can you at least pretend to not enjoy this as much as you currently are? You’re a devil” he spits out. Well, he could’ve said something meaner, so the breathing exercises must have worked a little.

“Mean. I guess you don’t want my help then”, you respond, feigning innocence.

“Let’s make one thing clear: I’m a boss at doing shit like this. I’m just tired of doing it, ‘cause I’ve been at it for a day straight. I’m good at everything, so you’ll probably find a comma that I forgot to type, not much more than that”, he adds, glaring up at you. You’re now standing next to him, but the fact he’s still sitting has you staring at him from above. This simple act is driving him insane: if he’s not in control he gets antsy, and you seem to know it, because you’re standing really proud.

You decide on dropping the facade a little, because you enjoy revising things. And he does look exhausted.

“Sure, send me the file and I’ll look into it” you say. Now you’re going outside of his room to make his chocolate, but he thinks you’re just running away.

“Wait. What do you want in return?” He says squinting at you. There’s no way she’s doing it because she’s nice, he thinks.

You look at him, dumbfounded. “Huh?”

“Don’t fucking “huh” me. What do you want? Why are you doing this?” He responds, serious.

You raise one eyebrow and stay silent for a bit, then you tell him “Because I’m nice? Have you ever heard about kindness? Not everything is a transaction, business man” then you close his door without waiting for an answer, leaving him confused and somewhat angry.

You start doing his hot chocolate while singing to yourself, when suddenly his door is thrown open and he exits it, staring at you.

“Tell me what you want” he says coming closer to you and crossing his arms. It sounds more like a statement than a question.

You look at him and respond “Tell me what you neeeed”, singing.

“What the fuck are you saying?”

“High School Musical? That one scene in the second film where they all sing in the kitchen? Really?” You ask, and he looks confused.

“I’ve never seen those films. They look pathetic.” He responds, rolling his eyes and looking at you putting whipping cream on his hot chocolate. You look shocked, and you hang your mouth open.

“You’ve never seen High School Musical?!” You almost scream.

He winces, rubs his ears and then proceeds to say “What’s so weird about it? It’s not like it’s a cult or something”.

“Yes! Yes it is! You know what? We’re going to watch it right now. And you can’t refuse, or I won’t revise your thesis” you tell him while poking him in the chest. Soft.

He kisses his teeth, huffs and goes to sit himself on the couch.

“I knew you weren’t doing it for free, manipulator” he glares at you.

You shrug, while putting his cup in front of him and bringing him some cookies. He mumbles a thanks, relaxing.

“I was going to help you regardless, but if I can make you suffer it’s funnier” you tell him, positioning yourself next to him and stealing one of the biscuits you brought for him.

“You’re such a bitch.”

“A bitch who’s going to do your work, so shut up and watch people fall in love in highschool” you bite back. You both roll your eyes.

Neither to say, he hates the movies with a passion. He thinks that high school is portrayed poorly, that Gabriella is the real villain, that they’re all pretentious bitches, that Troy should’ve went away because none of them were truly his friends since they weren’t supporting him.

You keep on huffing while he tells you all these “that”s.

“Katsuki, it’s not like it’s reality. It’s a musical. Just focus on the songs and the love, damn” you whine while throwing a punch at his bicep. He doesn’t budge and your hand hurts.

“That’s not my definition of love” he simply states.

“Yeah? And what’s your definition of love?” You ask him, curious.

He raises one of his eyebrows. “Why would I share something like that with you?”.

“Because I’m doing your work. And we’re friends. Sort of. And you like my chocolate” you respond, while blushing a little. You know you tend to be a little too curious and nosey, but it’s just because you pay a lot of attention to details. Details are everything to you. You’re quick to backtrack seeing his hostile behaviour towards this topic, and you start saying that it’s not a big deal and you should’ve minded your business, when he interrupts you.

“And what is your definition of love?”

He looks relaxed, like asking this isn’t that bothersome. Like he wants you to know you too. Like he cares, in some way.

“Love is a lot of things for me” you resort to say. Just how much can you be specific without scaring him away?

“Yeah, you’re waiting for me to talk about it first. I get it, dumbass. I’m not very good with words on this aspect though, so I’m sorry, but your curiosity won’t be quelled” he responds, rolling his eyes. From the start of this conversation he hasn’t stopped breathing normally, almost as if this is a regular conversation for him. He hasn’t stopped looking at you, too, but you’re trying to ignore that.

“Then let’s make a deal. Saturday we’re picking a thing that we think helps us explain what we think about love” you burst out. He’s about to protest, but you’re not finished.

“Love as in general love! Love can be outside of romantic relationships too, so let’s settle on love between friends! I’d never go out with you like that” you add. You jump out of the couch. You feel like you might catch on fire if you stay near him one more second. Maybe it’s the way he’s looking at you like you’re something he wants to dissect.

“Okay” he simply responds. You’re dumbfounded.

“Really? You’re okay with this? I thought you were going to say no” You say.

“Yeah, but let’s say that we can both decide on either going out or staying in. This is not a date, you said it yourself, so I don’t see a problem with it. It will just be like one of our movie nights, it’s not like we never spend time together, dumbass” he says, getting up and stretching his hand towards you.

“So? Are you in? Or are you scared of doing something much less meaningful than me?” He tells you, smirking.

You glare at him and compose yourself. Then, you stretch his hand.

“Deal.”

Taglist:

@perfectsukii @sleepykittycx @what-the-jams @bakunianadecorazon @vensunzy @eyesforbkg @bffrrufr @imas1mpp @cold-deep-water @peonies-and-teacakes @berryvioo

I couldn’t tag the ones in pink :(

#bakugou katsuki #bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugou x reader #bnha #and they were roommates #bakugo fluff #barista au

223 notes · View notes

lokideservesahug · 6 months

Text

For How Long!?!

Chapter 4: A big decision

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Pairings: Logan Sargeant x reader

Oscar Piastri x reader (platonic)

Warnings: Reader mentions anxiety/having it once, briefly. Not really angst but Sad Logan :(. This is hardly a SMAU for this part but I had to sacrifice that for some real relationship content.

Notes: I promised some more Logan × Reader relationship stuff but I'm sorry that it had to come at the cost of the SMAU aspect.

Summary: The Australian GP and its effects...

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Unlike much important news in your life, you didn't catch wind of this through a text message. Instead you find out when your boyfriend of five (nearly 6) years came barrelling into your driver's room.

Now there were a few alarming things you note.

1) What was he doing here. This is a surefire way to have the relationship the two of you have tried so hard to hide, be revealed.

2) How did he get in here. Despite you loving Logan with all of your being and near worshipping the ground he walked on, there was no way that he - a driver from a rival team- should be able to enter the Aton Martin hospitality let alone your drivers room.

3) Was he crying?

You glance at the door and swiftly sit up from the old (and oddly comfortable) chair you were resting in. "Lo? Are you alr-" The words get caught in your throat when you see his wide, glassy eyes. You have only ever seen him sport this expression on a handful of occasions and so this further adds to your worry.

Before you can even attempt to get another word in, he clings to you. It was like being smothered by a warm, sweaty, tall koala. You wouldn't have it any other way. Your hand finds the small of his back and begins to run calming circles up and down his fireproofs. "Honey." You gently coo "What's wrong?"

Instead of getting the desired response, Logan instead started to sob on your shoulder.

This is the last young you expected when you woke up.

You continue to hold him until he eventually builds up the strength to say what he came in your room for. "It's the car." There is a sharp intake of breath from your partner "Well, you saw yesterday how Alex crashed his right?" You hum in acknowledgement and as a prompt for him to keep speaking.

"So they uh..." he looks down almost ashamed. You smile softly at him to help encourage him to continue his story. "Well they told me that his chassis is broken and they don't have a spare... So I'm going to have to sacrifice my seat to Alex can drive on Sunday."

This time it was you that inhales sharply. "What?" Maybe you heard things wrong or maybe you were just misinterpreting- "Yeah I'm not racing on Sunday because Alex is 'more likely to score points." It was at this moment that your heart broke. Do they not trust him? That can't be fair. That's not right!

Despite your inner conflict, you remind yourself that you Logan is the most important thing here and you have to pull yourself together for him. It was the minimum of what he deserved especially now. "Oh honey." You hug him again and lead him to the bed in the corner of your room .

You fall back and he curls into you to lie on top of you as you run your fingers through his hair. When his once deep sobs became only occasional sniffles, you enquire "Is there anything I can do. Can I go and beat up James? Can I give you my chassis?" That makes him laugh and when he looks up you find yourself smiling. "No. Just continue holding me. "

And who are you to leave his wishes unfulfilled?

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Yourusername

Yourusername: There were some lovely sights in Melbourne. And after stealing this wonderful man, we found the most adorable record shop!

Liked by: Logansargeant, Oscarpiastri and 1,034,957 others

View all 5,432 comments

User1: I THOUGHT THIS WAS A RELATIONSHIP ANNOUNCEMENT AND NEARLY HAD A HEART ATTACK!!!

↳ User 2: Girl me 2. I was ready to start praising anything and everything but alas

User 3: OH my gosh this is where Logan went!?!?

↳ Yourusername: Sorry. He deserved a bit of cheering up :/

↳ User 4: I can't tell if this makes me really happy or really sad.

Logansargeant: No better company in the middle of Australia

↳ Oscarpiastri: Oi!

↳ Yourusername: Read it and weep Osc. Read it and weep (also you left us in the middle of a country we know next to nothing about!??!)

↳ Oscarpiastri: My bad (and I'd do it again)

↳ User 5: My theory is that Oscar didn't accompany them because he is the biggest Y/Ngan shipper and just wanted the two of them to spend time 2gther

Liked by Oscarpiastri

User 6: This is so sweet. Is this a relationship announcement?

Liked by Oscarpiastri

↳ User 7: Oscar is one of us #confirmed

☆-☆-☆-☆-☆

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Thank you for reading! Likes, reblogs and especially feedback is always welcome!

Taglist:

@nikfigueiredo @mysoulispainted @leclercings @d3kstar @hiireadstuff @a-beaverhausen @nichmeddar @lozzamez3 @stinkyjax @littlesatanicassholebitch @insanedeathwish @ems-alexandra @a-disturbing-self-reflection @marymustdie

#f1 #formula 1 #f1 x reader #logan sargeant #f1 fanfic #f1 x you #logan sargeant x you #logan sargeant fic #logan sargent x reader #logan sargeant x reader #ldah's writing

194 notes · View notes

tightjeansjavi · 7 months

Text

The Rite of Movement | part five

“something I’m not, but something I can be”

A/N: big disclaimer for this chapter: I do not know if this is actually how the porn industry functions. And while Brazzers is a real porn site, I don’t have any knowledge of how they run things on their site. For the sake of fiction, and the storyline, I wrote Joel’s era in Brazzers as a very very toxic work environment. Please heed the warnings. This takes place pre-miller-co. Joel and baby love have not met yet. Joel does however have a girlfriend during his time at Brazzers. Oh, and I listened to what was I made for on repeat while I wrote this 🥺 thank you to @itsokbbygrl for betaing and being my little cheerleader through this series 💗 and thank you to all my other friends for your endless support on my silly lil stories! (Y’all know who you are and how much I love you!)

~word count: 3.1k~

Summary: it’s Joel Miller’s 30th birthday. 30 years of existing, 12 years working for Brazzers, and what does he really have to show for his life outside of being a pornstar?

Pairing | pornstar!joel x pornstar!female reader

Warnings: angst, implied smut, toxic work environment, implied workplace abuse, mentions of the porn industry, misogynistic comments/behavior towards women in the porn industry (not by Joel), feelings of body insecurity, shame, mentions of smoking, grief, resentment, language, mature themes, +18 minors dni!

series masterlist

Los Angeles, CA. September 26, 2009

An alarm clock blares on Joel’s nightstand, the shrill sound pierces his eardrums, sending his arm flying out from under the covers, smacking the top of the device, silencing it with a heavy groan rumbling up his chest.

6:00 a.m. the sun has barely just begun to peek over the mountains, the bustle of LA traffic, late-night goers returning home, early-morning risers preparing for another droning day.

The big 30: The age where you were expected to have your shit together. No more making foolish mistakes, no more job hopping, you should be married with kids and have a house with a white picket fence and drive a minivan. You should be invested in the stock market, your lawn should be properly trimmed, maybe you even make enough money to own a vacation home.

Joel hadn’t a fucking clue what he wanted out of life. He wasn’t married. He didn’t have any kids. He lived in an apartment with his brother Tommy, splitting the rent between their paychecks. LA never felt like home to him. He liked the palm trees and the beach. He hated LA traffic, smog, and that stupid Hollywood sign that alluded to a lifestyle that only the ‘chosen’ members of high society would get to indulge in.

City of Angels? Not even close.

30 years old, and feeling like he had nothing to show for his life outside of being a pornstar. A branding identity that shamed him more times than he was willing to admit. Is this all I’m good for?

Brazzers was the bane of his existence for 12 years, and yet every time he would try and put his foot down and quit, he was lured right back in. He loved sex just like anyone else. He loved the intimacy, the closeness, the connection to another human being. Above all, he loved making his partners feel good. To make them come, fall apart on his tongue, fingers, or his cock. To hear their pleasured cries, high-pitched real moans of his name.

It was euphoric for him, to make another person feel so good that they completely lose themselves in the moment, in the feeling of the rite of movement. He used to think that this was enough, that the act of sex and unbridled pleasure was all viewers would want to see. He thought he was enough.

But in the adult film industry, sex was never just enough.

He didn’t like being told how he should fuck.

Yank her hair harder.

Slap her around a little.

Squeeze her cheeks till she cries.

Choke her.

I want to see bruises on her ass, Joel.

Fuck her like you mean it, like you hate her. Like she’s your bitch. Your property.

Are we making a porno here or what? Don’t wipe her tears. That’s not what men want. They want to see a cunt being pounded. C’mon, Joel. This is supposed to be a male fantasy!

He learned how to dissociate and remove himself from the scene entirely. He worked on autopilot, tuning out the jarring voices that demanded more from him and his partner(s). And when the passion faded, he struggled to stay hard and on top of his game.

And even with the warm, wet mouth of a fluffer sucking his soft cock, he wasn’t turned on. Not in the slightest and he could feel the shame creeping up on his neck as the director barked at him to get his shit together.

“What do you mean you’re not able to get hard, Miller? You got a hot piece of ass under you, man! What the hell else do you want? Y’know, would it really hurt for you to be more like your brother?”

“She’s got a name, you know.” Joel bit back, grinding his jaw back and forth. The blatant disrespect that women faced on a day to day basis was downright disgusting.

“Oh for fuck’s sake. You make pornos, Joel! Or did you forget? Stop acting like a fucking sissy and do your goddamn job.”

“I need a minute,” he gruffed out and gently pushed the fluffer's mouth off of his cock. He strode past the director and the rest of the set crew and pulled his boxers on in a haste.

“Fine. You get 10 minutes, Miller. And when you get back, I expect you to be fucking ready, and hard.”

Joel didn’t respond as he shucked on his shorts and threw on his hoodie, grabbing his phone and pack of cigarettes to stuff in his pocket. He averted making eye contact with the director, shoulder checking him on his way out of the room.

10 minutes, Miller!

Fuck you is what Joel really wanted to say as he walked at a fast past towards the nearest exit in the long hallway.

The sun was blinding the moment he stepped outside into the back alley. He whipped his phone out, nervously pacing back and forth as he dialed Tommy’s number, listening to the dial tone ring and ring.

“Hey, you old fart! Feelin’ 30 yet?” Tommy said playfully.

“Yeah. I’m feelin’ 30 alright.” Joel grumbled, sinking back against the side of the building.

“What’s up? I know how much you hate your birthday, but why do you sound so—”

“I’m fuckin’ quitting, Tommy. I can’t do this shit anymore. I can’t fuckin’ do it. I’m about five seconds away from stormin’ back in there and beatin’ the living shit out of the director.” He snapped, carding his fingers through his hair, gripping the roots tightly. “I’m throwin’ the towel in, and I ain’t lookin’ back.”

“Woah, woah, woah! Hold on now, what the fuck happened? Are you sure you just want to—”

“Tommy.” Joel warned him, squeezing his eyes shut as he pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. “Don’t start this with me, okay? I need to know if you’re with me on this because I sure as hell ain’t leavin’ you out here on your own.”

“I ain’t a kid anymore, Joel. If you want to quit for your own reasons, that’s fine, and I support you, but that doesn’t mean that—” he sighed deeply, weighing out his words in his head before he said, “of course I’m with you on this.”

“I’m not gonna force you to quit, Tommy. I jus’ don’t think this cesspool is fuckin’ good for either of us. Talked to a few others that were thinkin’ of quitting, but no one has pulled the trigger yet. We can do some amateur work till we find our footing again, and I want to move back home, Tommy. I want to move back to Texas. I fuckin’ hate this state. Everythin’ is too damn expensive.”

“I’ll follow you wherever you go, Joel. You know I will. But what about…Carmen and Sarah? You jus’ gonna pack your shit up and not tell her?”

Joel felt his heart twist and clench, knocking the air from his lungs because for the first time in his 30 years of life, his heart was going to be broken, and there was nothing he could do to prevent the inevitable from happening.

“She’s never gonna accept me for who I am and my job, Tommy. She resents it, I know she does. And Sarah will eventually resent me too. She’ll grow up and feel ashamed that her stepfather is a fuckin’ pornstar. They both deserve better than what I can offer them. It’s not like I can just start over and get a respectable job! What established company is gonna hire a guy who’s CV consists of a highschool diploma, a year of working construction jobs and 12 years in the adult film industry?”

Tommy felt his heart break for his brother, splitting right down the middle. “Joel…” he trailed off.

“Her friends treat me differently, and everytime I’ve brought up the potential of meeting her family, she changes the subject on me, Tommy. And you know what? I don’t blame her. Who the fuck would want to introduce their pornstar boyfriend to anyone, let alone her family? I jus’ figured I’d cut her losses sooner rather than later. And even if things were to work out, and I get a new job, a new life, am I just supposed to accept the knowledge of knowin’ that the entire time we have been together, she’s resented my job? Some things just aren’t meant to work out, and that’s fine. I’ll let her go and she’ll meet a nice, normal, man with a good stable job who doesn’t fuck for a living.”

Joel Miller. Paging, Joel. You’re needed on set. Hurry the fuck up—

“Fuckers.” Joel muttered under his breath as he rose to his feet. “I gotta go, okay? I’ll text you in a bit.”

“Wait, Joel,” Tommy started, trying to think of what he could possibly say to his brother that would make the situation better. “Everythin’ is gonna be okay. It’ll all work out in the end.”

“Yeah, sure.” He replied flatly. “I’ll see you.” he ended the call, shoving his phone back into his hoodie pocket and pushed open the exit door just as his name was called over the intercom again.

This time he was going to put his foot down for good. He wasn’t going to be lured back in. He was done. His mind was made up and there would be no turning back.

“Fucking finally. I said 10 minutes, Miller. You’re lucky I even gave you that.” The director scoffed and snapped his fingers at the fluffer to do her job.

Joel stopped her with a gentle hand along her shoulder before he made direct eye contact with the director. “That won’t be necessary.”

“What the fuck do you mean that won’t be necessary? We were supposed to be wrapped up with this shit already. I have a freshie to introduce to you afterwards, so if we can just get a move on—”

“I said, that won’t be necessary.” Joel calmly reiterated as he grabbed his bag from the floor and slung it over his shoulder.

“Boy, you better fucking start talking. What do you mean that won’t be necessary?!”

“It means that I quit. And I hope that freshie and every other woman here fuckin’ quits while they still have the chance.”

The atmosphere in the brightly lit room immediately shifted and the tension was palpable. Joel’s onscreen partner was shocked, the fluffer was shocked along with the rest of the film crew.

“You have gotta fucking joking me right now.” The director laughed bitterly, shaking his head. “You got some fucking nerve, Miller.”

Joel shrugged, glancing around the room before he turned towards the door, grasping the handle in his palm and pushed it open. He paused, looking over his shoulder, giving his onscreen partner a small, reassuring nod, “oh, and just a little word of advice? If you want sex to sell, and for Brazzers to not tank like the fuckin’ stock market, start by treatin’ women in the industry with respect. Jus’ a little food for thought. Pass that onto the CEO, and then tell him to shove it right up his ass.”

He walked out after that, listening to the director holler his name and something along the lines of, you’ll be back. They always fucking come back!

And on his way out, his shoulder gently made contact with another body rushing up the stairwell. “‘S’cuse me.” He rasped.

You didn’t get a look at the stranger's face on your way up. You were too focused on the fact that you were running late, and couldn’t afford to be potentially fired.

He didn’t get a look at your face either.

Joel opted to be alone for the rest of the day, sitting on the hood of his car, smoking through an entire pack of cigarettes while he watched the clouds roll by, and tourists stop to take pictures of the infamous Hollywood sign. He thought about his life up until this point.

30 years on this shithole we call earth. 12 years spent in the adult film industry, and never had he felt so lost and alone. Hours away from ending his first ever long term relationship and leaving the past behind.

Fuck 30. He thought to himself.

The inevitable settled into his bones as the sun slowly began to set behind the mountains, creating stunning hues of pink, oranges and purples in the sky. His phone buzzed on the exterior of the hood of his car, tearing him away from his thoughts when Carmen’s name popped up on the screen.

Hey, birthday boy. Are we still on for Thai food tonight? x.

Hey, baby. Yeah, of course. Can’t wait to see you.

5 missed calls from Tommy

10 messages from Tommy.

What happened to fucking calling me later, Joel?!

Why is your phone going straight to voicemail!

Can you just let me know that you’re okay?!

Joel.

Dude.

Pick up your phone!

And you call me the bad texter?!

This isn’t funny.

I didn’t sign up for the silent treatment!

If you’re dead in a ditch somewhere I’m gonna fucking kill you!!

He typed out a quick message to his brother informing him that he was in fact still alive and that he would be home soon.

What he wasn’t expecting was Carmen and Tommy to host a surprise birthday dinner at his apartment. He wasn’t mad at his brother for not giving him a heads up, and it wasn’t like Tommy could tell Carmen a simple, hey, by the way, my brother is going to break up with you and he wants to move back to Texas!

But all Joel could feel now when she pressed her lips to his in a sweet kiss, and planted a silly little party hat on his head, was guilt. An overwhelming tidal wave of guilt and shame for what he was going to do. And throughout the evening his guilt began to fester like an untreated wound. Bubbling pus leaked from his heartstrings like a broken faucet when he opened his unexpected present from Carmen.

It was a pocket wrist watch with an olive green strap that fit his wrist perfectly.

“You’re always misplacing your phone, so I figured that this would help you tell the time better? I know it isn’t much—”

He interjected softly, looking over at her with a small smile tugging on his lips, “It’s perfect. Thank you.” I’m so sorry.

And when Tommy stepped outside for a smoke and to give Joel and Carmen a bit of privacy, the energy shifted and Joel could feel the thread between them being pulled tight, threatening to snap at any given moment.

“Joel, is everything okay? You’ve hardly said a word to me tonight.”

And instead of responding, he got up from the couch in a haste, trying to keep his nerves at bay, but truthfully? He was panicking and it was written all over his face. “I’m fine, Carm. I jus’—I need some air.” He walked the short distance to the little balcony, pulling the door open as he stepped outside into the cooling night air.

Lights shimmered in the distance, palm trees swayed from a breeze off the coast. 30 years old and he felt like the biggest fucking asshole on the planet. Can I fix this? Can I make it work?

He stared down at the watch on his wrist, the tiny spokes ticking away as he rested his forearms along the paint chipped railing, listening to the soft squeak of the sliding door being pulled open as the blood rushed in his ears.

He tapped his foot nervously, jaw ticking under the fading light at the realization that there was no turning back.

“Do you love me?” He suddenly spoke, teeth grinding down on the inside of his cheek, the taste of copper bursting on his tongue. A reminder come morning when he would awake to the same soreness in his mouth that he feels in his heart.

“Joel…” she trailed off, standing alongside him, rubbing her arm as a self-soothing gesture.

“Do you love me…unconditionally?” His question hung heavy in the air, and when she didn’t immediately answer, tears began to prick the corner of his eyes, stinging and blurring his vision.

“Baby, please…why are—”

“Please don’t call me that right now, Carmen. Please.” he sniffled, staring back out over the railing at the shimmering mirage of Los Angeles. “If you did love me unconditionally, you would have answered me right away. It’s okay, I’m not mad at you. I could never be mad at you. I jus’—I know you resent me for being a pornstar. I’ve known about it for a while,” he said softly, feeling a tear rolling down along the side of his nose and drip down over his lips. His dewy eyed gaze met hers briefly, before he looked away. “And I also know that you would never ask me to quit, but you and I both know that’s what you want from me.”

There was no point in trying to deny it any longer. There was no bad blood, no bitterness. Just two adults facing the reality that is life. And sometimes…relationships don’t work out. The passion fades and resentment rears its ugly head.

“And no matter how many times I have tried to earnestly explain to you why I chose this career path, you will never understand. And I would never try to force you to. But it’s not fair to you, myself, or Sarah to continue this relationship when you will never accept me for who I am, Carmen.”

“You’re right, Joel.” She said quietly, her own tears beginning to brew along her waterline. “I’m so sorry.”

He swallowed the lump growing in his throat and the sob threatening to leave his lips, “I am too.”

There isn’t much left to say as they hug for the last time. She wishes him well in life and he does the same. There’s a new ache in his chest at the thought of him no longer being involved in Sarah’s life anymore. But he believes she’ll be better off without him, too.

And when she leaves his apartment for the last time, taking almost 3 years of memories along with her as the front door clicks shut, and her echoing footsteps down the hall become softer and softer, he lets out the sob he had been suppressing, sinking down to his knees in defeat.

Tears stream down his cheeks as a car horn blares below on the street.

Fuck you, asshole! Get out of the road! The owner of a sleek BMW yells with the window rolled down to a teenager crossing the street on his bike.

30 years old and heartbroken. So much for having his shit together.

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wood-white-writer · 11 months

Text

“Didn’t mean to make your heart Blue” || [7/…]

— OPLA! Buggy x F!Reader

“It's funny how I still forgot, it would be a hundred times easier if we were young again,”

— Mitski, “Two Slow Dancers”

Pairing: Buggy the Clown (Live Action) x F!Reader

Summary: You were an apprentice of Gol D. Roger’s crew in your youth, long before his eventual demise. Along with the Red-Haired Shanks and Buggy, you were a formidable trio; the embodiment of a new generation of pirates yet to come. But times changed, and so did you and your friends.

In the aftermath of your drunken escapades, you wake up to find yourself faced with new challenges, including a killer headache, a group of fish people, and the very clown responsible for putting you in this position. Needless to say, it does not bode well to take on fights while still inebriated.

Warnings: Canon typical violence, fem!reader, LA!Verse, slight canon divergence, alcoholic indulgence on a catastrophic scale (drink responsibly ppl), morally grey reader, violence, descriptions of blood and wounds,

A/N: The next chapter will be fully dedicated to Buggy and Reader/"Cross Hairs"

"Chug, chug, chug!" Both Buggy and Shanks cheer you on as you all but inhale the contents in your bottle in one go, not stopping until all of it has gone down. You pull back with an audible inhale, and after a couple of quiet seconds, the loudest BUUUURP! ever to cross the oceans erupt from the pits of your stomach.

Your two crewmates watch in awe, then erupt into hard fits of laughter that have them rolling on the ground while clenching their stomach.

After pumping your fists victoriously into the air and discarding the bottle, you join them soon after and settle down around the campfire. You three barely managed to put one together, but with the help of a few thin twigs and a bottle of the captain's purest liquor, you got it going soon enough.

Buggy wipes the tears away from his eyes and pulls another bottle of stolen beverages from his bag. "Not bad, not bad at all. Still, listen to this."

Jumping to his feet, Buggy swings the bottle, takes a glorious gulp, and punches his chest a few times. Out comes a large BUUUURP! that surpasses yours by miles, and continues to echo from around the island.

You immediately raise your hands in applause, laughing in that sweet way that makes his pulse quicken. In truth, your laughter is hardly elegant, more like the sounds a dying boar makes, yet he enjoys it all the same.

With one arm straightened out whereas the other goes to his chest, he makes a dramatic bow in front of you across the fire. "Thank you, thank you, my fair lady. I'll be here all day."

When he straightens up again, he sees the fire shine so clearly in your eyes; the flames dancing in your irises, and he feels warmer than the fire itself. You're looking at him - him - with such adoration that his stomach feels funny. Maybe it's the liquor playing a part in this, yet he doubts it.

"Buggy, that was so gross!" Shanks says with mirth, then gestures for the bottle. "Give it here! I'll show you how it's really done."

"Sure, I'd like to see you try!" Buggy hands him the bottle.

"There's no way you can surpass that, Shanks." You oppose lightly. "No fucking way."

"Yeah, watch me!"

Shanks takes a generous portion, pats his stomach, and out comes yet another BUUURP!

Sure, it's impressive enough, but nowhere near Buggy's, and the redhead acknowledges this with a defeated sigh before anyone even says anything.

"It's alright," Buggy severs his hand to pat him patronizingly on the back. "You tried. Imitation is the highest form of flattery, you know?"

Shanks pushes his hand away with a grin. "Oh, lay of it!"

The night continues like that, with some more drinking, some more burping contests, and sharing their thoughts on the latest endeavors of the Oro Jackson. Whenever the crew docked for a while someplace, the three of you would usually find some way to enjoy your time off away from the crew's supervision like this.

It also involves the three of you singing sea shanties together, arms hooked around each other as you sing at the top of your lungs:

"Gather up all of the crew, It's time to ship out Bink's brew. Pirates we, eternally, Are challenging the seas!"

It is just fun; three teenagers enjoying their teenage years to the fullest until the day they can venture on their own.

After a while, Buggy starts to feel his bladder press, probably from the liquor. He tries to ignore it at first, not wanting to miss anything, but it does not take long before he has to oblige with his body's request.

You're the first to notice him moving. "Where are you going, Buggy?"

He waves his hand dismissively. "Just got to take a piss."

"Don't go too far," Shanks adds with a twinge of mischief in his eyes. "I've heard there are boars on this island, don't want to get chased, do you?"

Buggy feels chills run up his arms, but he refuses to acknowledge it. "S-Shut it! There aren't any shitty boars here, or we'd see them by now!"

"Yeah, but I've also heard that they catch the smell of piss particularly strong,"

"Bullshit!" He trudges off. "Boars, my ass!"

"Be careful, Buggy!" you call after him.

The chills across his body immediately get replaced with a sense of pride, and he disappears to do his business with a smile.

Once he's finished and headed back, he can hear your soft laughter as he approaches the makeshift campsite. His heart nearly drops into his stomach when he sees what's going on.

You and Shanks are sitting closer together now, knees width apart, and you're laughing. Shanks just told a joke, a terrible joke that makes even Buggy cringe, yet you laugh all the same.

That soft laughter, just not for him this time.

It shouldn't make him feel as shitty as it does, yet a nauseous feeling settles in the pits of his stomach. You and Shanks are crew mates and friends, just as he is. He's never caught onto any implications that you like him in that sense, but why does it sting so much then to watch the two of you like this? So close, so at ease, so carefree and soft.

He often thinks about the time you saved him, about the time you brought an entire crew down just for him. You held his hand, you were worried; he’s been thinking that maybe there’s something there that isn’t just in his imagination.

But, wouldn’t you have done the same thing for Shanks, too? Has he maybe mistaken camaraderie for something else? Something that's not there?

Buggy suddenly feels ill, and he can’t blame it on the alcohol this time.

He thinks that it makes sense, in a way that gives his deep-rooted insecurity a boost. Shanks has always been the better of the two; a natural leader, calm in battle, and strategic in the ways that he himself is unable to be.

Meanwhile, Buggy is ... Well, just Buggy.

Buggy with the weird, red, enlarged nose people always make fun of.

Buggy, who can never seem to pull off the same stunts as successfully as Shanks can.

Buggy, who cracks the worst kinds of jokes that oftentimes make people laugh more out of pity than genuine humor.

You always laugh at them, laugh with him, but maybe he’s been mistaken there too?

It's obvious that Shanks is the better choice. Buggy would follow him anywhere, and he'd follow you anywhere, yet the thought of you following Shanks whereas Buggy trails behind the both of you like a stray puppy just feels ...

"Ah, there you are." Your voice snaps him out of his head as you wave him over. "You didn't come across any boars, did you?"

It takes him a moment to respond, and when he does, it's nothing grand. His voice has been reduced to a demure murmur as he steps closer to the fire. "No, there is nothing."

"You sure?" Shanks asks with a grin. "Thought I heard some noises back there!"

For some reason, Buggy snaps "IT'S NOTHING!"

His outburst evidently catches the both of you off-guard.

"Buggy, are you al—?"

"I'm fine." He's not. "But we should head back before the captain instigates a damn search party for us. We've probably been out too long."

He turns his back to you and starts heading in the direction you came from, and he feels his chest tighten so fucking much it makes breathing hard. He tries to tell himself it's not what he thinks, but at the same time, that nagging whisper in the back of his head that always stalks him is incessant.

"It makes sense," it whispers. "After all, it's never you."

———

"What in the hell is the matter with you?"

It takes you several minutes to force your eyes open. You're in the restaurant, you uncover, lounging over a table with a thin napkin serving as the only cushion for your cheek.

By some miracle, you manage to aim your eyes up from behind your arms and see Zeff standing there with his hands on his hips, like an angry grandfather of sorts.

"Zeff," you groan and heave a tired breath. Fuck, your head is killing you, as though a hamster wheel has found residence in your cranium. "It's too early for this."

"It's almost eleven o'clock, the sun is up."

"Still too early,"

"Heard you practically robbed the bar last night; the bill is through the damn roo-"

Before he gets to finish, you dig into the pocket of your pants and pull out a hefty pouch of berries on the table. A few spill out on the wooden surface, clinking. "Just take this as compensation and give me another bottle while you're at it."

Zeff looks at the pouch, does a mental count, and finally takes it after deciding that it's enough. "Huh, thought that scrawny chore boy was broke?"

"They are." You turn to let your chin rest on the table, giving you a little better view than before. "But I did have a pension plan before I retired. Keep it with me when it counts."

Zeff sighs and pockets the berries without complaint, but not before giving you an unimpressed one-over. You're happy you don't carry a mirror with you; probably look like shit, and you feel like shit, too. Your hangover could've been considerably worse, but at this moment in time, you'd prefer it if you went to sleep and didn't wake up for another twenty years or so.

"What the hell is going on with you, lass?" Zeff finally asks, and this time, he retains some of his usual roughness.

"Nothing ..." you murmur.

His bushy eyebrows scrunch. "I've been working at this place for almost a decade, seen people at their worst. People down on their luck, people who've lost, people who've grieved."

"And?"

"And I'll tell you something, lass. No one looks quite as damn destroyed as someone who's had their hearts broken."

The hamster wheel comes to a screeching halt, and you abruptly sit up to glare at him. "I'm not heartbroken. Why does everyone insist on that?"

His lips tug into a halfway smirk like he's just caught a fish on his hook. "You're strong, I'll give you that much, but no one's above the loss of love. So, who was the bloke?"

"No one," you almost spit, narrowing your eyes.

Zeff remains undeterred, even a little proud. "Couldn't have been a 'no one' if they managed to capture the interest of the Beast of the East, can they?"

You bite the inside of your cheek to keep yourself from lunging at the old man for even insinuating that someone - specifically him - has managed to put you in such a sorry state. You won't give the Chief the satisfaction.

With some herculean effort on your part, you take a deep breath and recline in your seat. Quietly, without looking at the chief, you order: "Three beers and today's lunch."

Zeff shrugs. "Fine, but after, you should check on your crew. That swordsman really took a hit,"

Right, Zoro challenged Mihawk to a fucking duel, and the memories come flooding back to you. You glance up at that chief, masking the underlying concern with a face of indifference. "He alive?"

"Yes and no. If you want to know, go see for yourself."

You nod, and he leaves you to stir your hangover. Maybe it was a mistake to get as shitfaced as you did, but that doesn't change the fact that you tried to keep them from making mistakes. You did what you were supposed to, yet still, why does it feel like this is your fault?

You've grown fond of the crew, and it's become more of a headache than you initially bargained for.

The waiter comes with your order on a plate, not Sanji this time, you discover. In fact, he's nowhere to be seen.

Without wasting your breath, you immediately dig into your meal like a woman starved of sustenance. It tastes delicious, but the residue of yesterday's liquor on your tongue dilutes the taste. You don't care, though.

Shortly after finishing half a portion of your lunch, you resume with your bottles. A slower pace this time, to ensure that your current condition doesn't significantly worsen, but still fast enough to keep you from remembering.

Remembering too much.

Half a bottle into your stupor, the entrance doors slam open and a pang of pain burst through the nerves in your brain. All you can think is that it's way too early for someone to be stirring shit up.

A round of gasps echoes through the establishment, and when you peek up from over your shoulder, you see three fish people making their entrance from the top of the staircase.

You've had your share of encounters with fish people in the past, some more ... tolerable than the rest. In hindsight, there's no difference between the way you treat people; if they get on your nerves, you deal with them. If they don't, you leave them be.

Your instincts tell you that these people will fall into the former category.

However, you notice that the one with the sharp nose looks awfully familiar, but your temporary amnesia might have something to do with the alcohol circling in your veins. Still, it's not a face that's easy to forget.

A few people try to get up from their seats, but with a simple, "Sit down!", they comply.

You narrow your eyes at the spectacle but don't move to get away. As long as he doesn't bother you, there's no reason for you to get involved. Baratie's had worse customers before, so this is nothing new. Zeff'll handle it like he always does.

So, you continue with your drinks, already annoyed and in desperate need of the numbing sensation only the bottle can provide. Zeff appears to deal with it, and it doesn't pique your interest until the fish man proclaims:

"Listen up! I'm looking for a pirate in a straw hat! Goes by the name of Luffy."

Now this catches your attention mid-sip.

You look at the particular fish man discreetly over your shoulder, your sobriety making a quick return once you discover that you do know of him. He's Arlong the Saw; a misanthrope who makes a living killing humans.

"Arlong," he said moments ago to Zeff. "I own the East Blue."

You don't know why he's after Luffy, and quite frankly, you don't care. With your fucking luck, he's after the map, too.

He can pretend to own the seas all he wants, but what matters to you is that he won't get to the boy, and it's something that Zeff seems on board with if his negotiation tactics mean anything.

So, in silence, you continue with your drinking, content with laying low until one of Arlong's henchmen - one with black hair tied up on each side of his head - appears at your side.

He leers over your shoulder, the stench of seawater evading your nostrils, and reaches for one of your bottles.

"Hope you don't mind sharing," he chuckles, and for some reason, this gesture pisses you off.

You're not in the fucking mood.

Before his hand can as much as graze the bottle's fine surface, you grip the back of his shirt and all but fling him back from whence he came. The sound of a table breaking behind you interrupts the eerie quietness that's befallen the other patrons, and you get up from your seat to glare at the other fish people.

"Fucking get lost," your voice rings out like an ominous warning across the air of the establishment, rendering everyone mute. Well, everyone except for Arlong, who proceeds to laugh heartedly at the spectacle whereas his other henchman quickly moves to aid his fallen colleague.

"Well, well, who do we have here?" He stands up from the table, two sharp rows of teeth reflecting the light from the restaurant as he grins. "If it ain't the Beast of the East, in the flesh." He tilts his head to the side. "I was expecting someone ... younger."

"I'm retired."

"So I've heard, but someone else seems to think otherwise."

"Well, this 'someone else’ must’ve been mistaken."

"No, no," he wags his 'finger?'. "You see, he was quite adamant that you're back in business. If that is the case, I am owed tribute for the stunts you've pulled."

You quirk an eyebrow, so lowly that it hardly seems to move at all. "Tribute?"

"Half of whatever plunder you acquired during the years you were active," he waves his hand. "And half of what you've acquired as of late."

Capitalism, truly. Seems that not even fishmen can deny its pull.

Your answer is simple.

"No."

Arlong's grin shapes into a snarl quite easily. "You may have the highest bounty, but it is still I who own the East Blue."

"The sea belongs to no one," you counter sharply. "Not me, and certainly not you."

It's clear that he perceives this as a slight in the highest degree if the downward tug of his lips serves as an indication. "Do you even know who I am?"

"I don't care who you are." Your fist clenches into a tight knot that almost draws blood as you stare him down from across the room; two beasts in their own respective ways.

"I'm Arlong the Saw."

"More like Arlong the Nailfile." This earns you a growl you're not nearly sober enough to worry about. "Look, I don't care who you are, and I don't care why you're here. The point is, you're not wanted."

You glance over at Zeff. For once, in the time you've known him, he's cautious but allows you to get your words across.

Arlong does not share the same sentiments. "When I learned that Cross-Hairs was here, I expected a woman with fists of irons and eyes sharp as knives. However, all I seem to be presented with is an old captain who does not know how to hold her liquor. It's pathetic, even by human standards."

This time, you're not vocal about your rather ... brutally honest opinions about him. Without breaking eye contact, you reach for your bottle and take a hefty swing from it. It all goes down without pause, and once it's gone, you put it back with enough force to permanently dent the table. Zeff'll be pissed.

Arlong snorts at the display. "I'm not here for you specifically. The boy, Luffy, where is he?"

"Never heard of him,"

"I don't quite believe that."

"Not my problem."

Arlong tilts his head to the side, almost condescendingly. "My informant knows otherwise."

"Your informant seems to know a lot of things," you say, dangerously low. "If you tell me who they are, and I'll pay them a visit myself to set the record straight,"

He chuckles. "There's no need for a visit. He's already here, and he's famished." He snaps his jaws to a nearby table, scaring the patrons into fleeing. "But I don't need the meals from the menu to quench my hunger."

You glance over at the other patrons, seeing the fear in their eyes reflect the light above. You've seen it before; you used to see it back when you were still Captain of the Cross-Haired Pirates. People used to quake at the sound of your footsteps, and whisper among themselves. in fear of evoking your wrath.

Back in the day, you lived up to your reputation. You didn't necessarily enjoy installing fear into people's hearts, but it was a means to an end. You were angry, and all that anger manifested itself in the way you acted as a captain. All that fighting, all that beating, all that rage.

Now, when you see the patrons acting like a herd of sheep, you can't help but feel like you're back there. But they're not afraid of you, not this time.

You look back at Arlong. "Find your meal someplace else."

He growls and steps closer. "I'm telling you this, Cross-Hairs, one beast to another. You may be strong, but we both know that you're not strong enough to take me on. Fish men are superior to humans in every single way. Stronger, faster, —"

He gets close enough to grab for your hand and lift it, his face a breath's width from your own. You can smell the stench of salt on him, of raw meat. "— Hungrier. Wouldn't you agree?"

In a flash, you grip your other hand around his wrist, fingers digging into his flesh until you can find the corners of his joints. You relish in the pained expression that crosses his face.

"You're not a beast," you say, not raising your voice a pitch. "You're vermin."

Arlong parts his jaws when the doors to the Baratie burst open.

"Which one of you is Arlong?"

You snap your attention to the top of the staircase, and your face drains. Fuck, it's Luffy. Why's he here?

"Who's asking?" Arlong asks, his grip around yours remains tight.

"I'm Monkey D. Luffy. I hear you're looking for me."

Once Luffy descends the stairs, Arlong lets go of you and turns to face the younger opponent. You watch with mild impressiveness as Luffy faces the bigger fish man, and you have to grant him that, he doesn't exhibit an ounce of fear.

"How'd you find me anyway?" Luffy finally asks.

Arlong snickers. "An old friend helped track you down."

Then, you watch as the big-lipped fish man pulls something out from his bag and it's ... and it's ...

"Heya, Straw Hat! Did you miss me?"

It's fucking Buggy!

Your heart skips several beats before it remembers to start pumping again. He's here. You thought Orange Town would be the last time you saw him, but he's really here. Truth be told, he looks worse for wear; his make-up is all smudged, a bruise forming on the right side of his cheek, and he's been dowsed in seawater.

But it's him. It's him.

Buggy's eyes glance over at you, and the smile that was previously there gets momentarily replaced with an expression you can't precisely pinpoint. "Hey, there," he says, surprisingly demure. "how's it going?"

You're not nearly sober nor coherent enough to reply.

"Burpy?" Luffy asks surprised. "What are you doing here?"

"Believe me it wasn't my first choice either, but these fine fishy folk persuaded me to point them in the right direction, which ain't easy when you don't have any hands."

"How'd you even know how to find me?"

"I told you, I got eyes and ears everywhere."

To your horror, you watch as an ear pulls itself out of Luffy's hat and attaches to the clown's head. That ear was there all along, which means ...

"You were listening all along?" Luffy cradles his hat. "You heard everything?"

Everything, you think to yourself as you feel the blood drain from your face. He heard everything, everything you'd said to Luffy, everything about your whereabouts. Every—

"Everything," Buggy answers. "And that got old quick, 'cause you shidiots got no idea what you're doing. Hey, Lips!" He turns his head sideways to face the fish man who's just returned from aiding his colleague. "How about a scratch behind the old ear, huh?"

"Sorry, honey."

You don't know what compels you, but something fierce does. An animalistic instinct settled in the marrow of your bones, rampant with rage and assertiveness. When the fish man grabs a hold of Buggy and puts him in the bag, you feel the need to get him out. Free him.

You were friends with him once, something even more from your side long ago, and you've tried to kill each other on at least one occasion. Still, that piece of you that remains in your youthhood demands that you get to him before anyone else.

The conversation that takes place between Luffy and Arlong doesn't register with your ears, as all you can focus on is him. Before you know it, the sound of gunshots echoes through the restaurant, and a fight erupts between Luffy's crew and Arlong's.

Truth be told, it all flashes in front of you like pictures from a movie you've seen. All you can recall, with the alcohol still flooding through your veins, is the feeling of flesh between your digits, the sound of cries and painful moans from Arlong's henchpeople as you force them to the side, and the pure adrenaline that muddles all your thoughts of ration.

Before Arlong can even hope to make a grasp at Luffy, you're there to deflect his claws with your wrist. The impact pushes his hand several inches away from your skin, and without a moment's notice, you strike him in the middle of his sternum.

He's knocked several feet back and into a nearby pillar, not enough to completely knock him out, but enough to keep him away if only for a few moments.

He laughs, his teeth bleeding from the gums. "The Beast of the East. I was wondering when I'd finally get to meet you."

You don't say a word, with the primitive instincts overwhelming your rational ones. In a second, you lunge for him, your hand aimed towards his head. Someone, most likely yourself, must have miscalculated because as much as you intend to hit him and maim him and strike him, the most prominent sense that strikes you is not the feeling of blood under your knuckles.

It's pain.

You're in pain.

Arlong manages to hit you with his clawed fingers. The sharp feeling of something piercing the side of your abdomen through your clothes causes an eerie feeling of hurt. You gasp and bend to your knees, clutching your side. Blood paints your palm as you withdraw it. You're bleeding. Fuck, you're actually bleeding. It's not a light cut either, it's several ones, an inch deep each, and they're bleeding profusely.

When was the last time you bled like this?

The collision between your head and something hard knocks you back before you can even hope to register your state properly. The floorboards leave stinging burns across your lower back until a pillar cushions your fall.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

"A pity, truly." Arlong taunts, towering over you. "My informant seemed so confident in your skills. How disappointed he’ll be, seeing you crawl like a maggot on the floor."

You know this is a fight you cannot win, not as you are right now, but you don’t care. Pure spite motivates you to do your worst, even if it’s all for naught.

An act produced from pure adrenaline, you jump back to your feet and prepare to pounce at him. An outstretched hand — Luffy's — beat you to it and preoccupied the fish man in the nick of time. He's pulled away from your reach before you can hope to get him, and a familiar feeling of bloodlust in your veins awakens to life after its hibernation.

Hot, boiling.

You want to kill him.

Maim him.

Crush him until his bones break.

Feel the warmth of his blood coat your fingers as you dig into his body, through veins and arteries and flesh.

You want him dead.

Suddenly, you catch it from your peripheral vision. A bag on the floor that's currently being tossed back and forth amid all the fighting like a ball of yarn between two quarreling cats. A string of curses erupts from the fabric.

He's still here, you remember. Buggy is still here.

You have the option to leave him at the mercy of the fight between the Straw Hats and Arlong, but something in your body won't let it. Call it instinct, call it sentiment, but you move towards it all the same. Before any man can even touch the surface of the bag, you lunge for it like a flash of light.

Grabbing the top of the old fabric, you all but yank it from the floor and maintain him in the steady grip of both your hands.

"Hey, hey!" the voice in the bag calls. "Keep me out of this!"

"Shut up!" You shout back.

The voice immediately quiets down. In the middle of the fight, while you cling to the bag like a sacred object, you can hear him call your name several times, though you don’t answer.

You cradle the bag in the crook of your elbow as someone — doesn’t matter who — kicks your ribs and sends you crashing into a nearby wall. The impact knocks the air out of your lungs and leaves you with stars at the corners of your vision, yet all you can seem to think is ‘keep .... safe, keep .... safe, KEEP .... SAFE’.

You cough several times, static noise filling your eardrums as you crawl back to your feet. The sensation of something warm dribbling down the side of your ribs strikes you, yet your only concern in the midst of the blood loss is to carry that damn bag to safety.

It doesn’t make any sense. Luffy should be your only concern, but you can't find him, and the core of your being wants nothing more than to just get that bag the hell out of there.

Why? you think to yourself in a haze, your breath becoming heavier. What’s in that bag again? Why does it mean so much?

You try to get up, but the weight of your body overwhelms you. You stumble and fall back to your knees, dizziness making everything hazy and disoriented, but pure spite motivates you to keep going. At least, it tries to, but sheer will cannot outweigh the body’s needs alone.

Someone calls your name, and as your cheek meets the floor, an image of blue hair invades your vision. Blue hair, soft promises, and tight embraces.

Then, there are scornful glares, a shove against your body, so firm and cold that it’s reminiscent of ice.

“I hate you,” a blurry voice says, so filled with resentment that it reminds you of a knife. “I wish we’d never even met. Go be with him if that’s what you fucking want. What do I care?”

It hurts. It hurts more than your ribs do. It hurts to listen to those words — that voice — as it reverberates through your skull. It hurts so fucking much that you don’t think you can survive it. You feel small, small and vulnerable; like a child stuck in a crowd of people they don't know.

“He- Hey! Are you there?” The same voice - deeper and darker now - calls desperately as darkness starts to cloud your vision. “Come on, get up!”

You can’t tell if this is a voice from inside your head or outside it, but you don’t fight it when the darkness decides to lay claim over you. The same voice calls your name urgently, time and time again, but you can't answer it.

———

Everything hurts. Your body, your arms, your legs, but most prominently, the right side of your body. It’s burning, stinging, fucking carving at you. Whatever you call it. It just hurts.

“You’re awake!”

You barely have time to open your eyes when a warm body presses itself against yours from above. A sting of pain from the side of your body immediately surges through your nerves and you hiss.

“Oh, sorry, sorry!”

When you finally do look up, you see Luffy sitting beside you, a concerned yet hopeful look in those round eyes of his. You blink at him, then shift your head around to see where you are. You’re in your cabin, a blanket pulled up to your midsection, with something wrapped tightly around your stomach under your shirt.

At first, you’re at a loss for thoughts, but it only takes you a moment for everything to fall back into place. You immediately sit up, only to regret it as the pain explodes once more from your wounds.

“Don’t move too much,” Luffy protests and puts a hand on your shoulder to guide you down, but you resist it.

“What happened?” you demand. “How long was I out for?”

“Only a few hours.” Luffy frowns and gestures to your side. “You were badly hurt and lost a bit of blood. Zeff looked over it and managed to stop the bleeding, but he said you’ll need stitches eventually.”

You stare at him for a few seconds before your gaze trails down to your side. Lifting your shirt far enough so that you can evaluate the damage. Crimson-stained bandages greet your vision, under which you can only guess Arlong left his mark. Several marks to be precise, if your memory holds any value.

It’s not the wound itself that fills you with shame, but it’s the fact that you let your own grievances put you and – to some extent – the crew in such a vulnerable position to begin with.

If only you’d stopped feeling so sorry for yourself, then maybe this wouldn’t have happened.

“Luffy,” you say softly, not removing your focus from the bandages. “I’m … sorry.”

“For what?” he asks, completely confused.

“… I got distracted.” You slowly swing your feet to the edge of the hammock, the movements warranting more bouts of pain, yet you ignore it. “I … Let my guard down, and it put the crew in danger.”

“I don’t think so.” He says it so casually like he doesn’t find you at fault in the slightest. You don’t know whether deem his forgiving demeanor endearing or naïve to a fault. “You were sad.”

“That doesn’t excuse anything!” You jump to your feet while cradling your side. Luffy immediately comes to your side and offers you a shoulder to lean onto. “You could’ve been killed!”

“I’m fine,” he insists. “And so is Zoro! He’s alive!”

“That’s … good.” Relief floods your body.

“But Nami…” Luffy pauses as he helps you out of the room towards the kitchen. “She went with Arlong,”

You raise an eyebrow, not expecting this. “Why?”

“I don’t know, but we’re going to find her.”

“And how are we going to do that?”

“Well …” he trails off sheepishly, and you’re immediately suspicious.

It’s not until you finally reach the kitchen that you hear it.

“Hey! Look who it ... is ...”

It’s Buggy …

His head is on top of the kitchen table.

———

Taglist:

@kurinhimenezu, @carpinchootaku, @ay0nha, @teh-vampire-bunny, @lokiscure, @internationalsuper-spy, @detectivesparrow , @yuriwk , @notyuralycat , @angeli-fucking-cat , @machinema7k , @shuujin, @avatar-lover, @gingernut1314, @autumn-slaves. @marvelouskatie, @floristoflillys, @dizzyenby, @redpool, @deliri-yum22, @aemondsb1tch, @ackroxia, @gayandfairycore, @knightsfavoriteprincess, @asterizee, @aamethyst23, @lizzie1107 (If you want to be tagged for this story, just send me a message or leave a comment :))

#buggy the clown #buggy x reader #one piece live action #buggy one piece #buggy the clown x reader #one piece #one piece x reader #buggy x you #buggy the clown fanfiction #buggy x female reader #one piece buggy #DMTMYHB #Didn’t mean to make your heart Blue

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back2bluesidex · 1 year

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Where Do Broken Hearts Go - Chapter 1 (18+)

Pairing: Model, ex-boyfriend!Jungkook X Child psychologist, Fem!Reader X Lawyer, Single Dad!Hoseok.

Theme: Angst, pining, heartbreak, break-up, SMUT (MDNI)

Warnings: lots of crying, reader is broken, she is suffering so bad, a flashback explicit sex scene, big-dick Jungkook, kind of size kink, he hits it from behind, shower sex, unprotected sex (wrap it up), creampie, Jung Hoseok enters the scene, he is so attractive that you might faint, subtle and flirty Hoseok, an adorable little girl, Namjoon makes an appearance.

It's not really mentioned but just so you know, Hoseok and reader has a slight age gap like 5 years. (which is not at all an age gap to me because my first boyfriend was 8 years older than me. haha. you didn't just read that.)

Word count: 4.2k

Taglist requests are closed.

Minors and karens are not allowed in this blog

A/N: First chapter is here. I wrote 4k+ words for a single fic and that's unbelievable. Anyway, I hope you guys like it, and I hope it's worth the wait.

Main Masterlist

Chapters:-

Prologue/Masterpost || Chapter 1 || Chapter 2 || Chapter 3 || Chapter 4 || Chapter 5 || Chapter 6 || Chapter 7 - Finale

“Reaching in 10 minutes”

That’s what Jungkook texted you half an hour ago.

It’s nothing new. He has always been late to your every date, every plan, every meetup. What is new is the lack of explanations and excuses following his delayed arrivals. He only apologizes and you hardly hear any sincerity in his atonements.

You sigh, staring out of the huge window of the private cabin.

Jungkook can’t meet you at your (supposed to be shared) home due to his “privacy” issues. So, you had to reserve this private cabin of an over-expensive continental restaurant. It’s funny how all of these feel so formal. It feels as if you are meeting one of your wealthy clients and not your boyfriend. This is how far Jungkook has drifted from you.

Your feet bounce on the floor, reminding you that you are indeed very nervous.

It’s a “leap of faith” situation for you today. If it works out then everything will start afresh, if it doesn’t… you will have to fall and break without having any idea on how to mend yourself.

“Sorry. I’m late.” Jungkook’s muffled voice rings behind your ear.

You were so lost in your thoughts, or fear, that you didn’t even hear him entering the cabin.

He heads towards the seat opposite of yours, without any further greetings, any kiss or even a hug… not even a single glance.

“As if it’s the first time.” you scoff. Jungkook chuckles nervously, removing his mask and snapback.

“Let’s order something. Heard their soy sauce chicken is a hit-”

“Y/N, I can’t stay for long. Can you make it quick?” Jungkook cuts off your words. His tone is so curt, so foreign that you doubt if it’s actually him underneath his skin or not.

“Jungkook… What's wrong? Why are you making things so formal? For fuck’s sake it’s me. Your so-called girlfriend.” Your voice quivers but you scream nonetheless.

“Y/N! Quit being dramatic and lower your voice. We are not at home.” Jungkook hisses, teeth gritting, eyes narrowing.

“Home? You mean the apartment you left because your agency said it’s risky to share a space with your girlfriend of three years? The same place you refused to meet at because paparazzi are keeping tabs on you as you are rumored to be dating someone else?” you reply with the same ferocity.

Jungkook closes his eyes and rubs his face with both of his palms. Taking a sharp inhale, he says, “Can you please tell me why we are here? I don’t think you called me all the way here just so we can fight?”

You roll your eyes, less in sarcasm, more in an attempt to make your tears disappear.

You sit straight as if being prepared for the sword that is going to pierce through your heart, “Jungkook, do you.. do you love me?”

Jungkook visibly stiffens. His eyes go wide as if someone has asked him to jump off of the building. You see him collecting himself and clearing his throat only to lie, “O-Of course I do. But suddenly why?”

Even though you want to believe his words, you know those are as hollow as his eyes and maybe his heart as well.

“Then..” you pause, reaching for your purse. Pulling out the pitch black velvet box, you look at him. Jungkook’s eyes are wide again, filled with horror and confusion. He probably knows what you are doing and he does not seem to be the least bit happy.

You stand up from your seat and round the table to reach Jungkook, “don’t you think it’s the high time we get engaged? It’s been three years since we started dating, our families approve of each other and” you pause, being unsure of whether you should say it, “and we have always wanted a future together.” You open the box for him to see, a tight-lipped smile lingers on your face only to punctuate your proposal.

Jungkook looks up at you with his big, doe, mystical eyes and then looks down on the ring you have spent a fortune on. Your heart hammers in your chest, but it is not the flattering kind. Your heart races in a fear that you are not ready to face yet.

Jungkook’s face falls and he looks away from you. He plays with his fingers and avoids any kind of eye contact with you. You stand there like a doll made of steel, staring at him holding the ring.

“Y/N. This is not- I can’t. I mean, this is so sudden. I am at the peak of my career and I can’t think of getting engaged or married at this point of life.” he runs a hand though his dark hair out of frustration, “Why are you rushing everything like this?” Jungkook’s eyes are still trained on the table, not on you.

“Because I am afraid, Jungkook. I am afraid you might leave me behind if I don’t try to hold onto you now.” you finally let your tears fall. Uncontrollable sobs leave your mouth.

Jungkook whips his head towards you and then stands up slowly. He holds you by your arms and opens his mouth to say something, “Y/N. I-”

“But I guess it’s too late now. You were long gone. You were gone far before the day you were seen with her. I should have understood Jungkook. I should have…” you run out of breath but still continue, “now please answer me honestly, you love her. Don’t you?”

Jungkook starts avoiding your eyes again. His grip on your arms loosens and you somehow know the answer already.

“I never cheated on you, Y/N. I never lied to you.” He offers with eyes shut tightly.

“But you never told me the full truth either.” your voice comes out weak.

Jungkook remains silent for a while and then he continues with a frail voice, “That night. I mean, the photo that went viral, I was sending her back to her hotel. She flew all the way to the States to confess to me.” This is a new revelation to you, since you never really demanded any explanation from him. Honestly, you didn’t have the guts to face the truth. Rather you decided to try one last time. And that is what brings you here, defeated and rejected with a truck load of pain burdening you down.

“And? What did you say?” you press on, being determined to end your suffering today even if it means you will have to return home with a broken relationship and a broken heart.

“Nothing.” Jungkook gulps.

“You could not say no because you feel the same and you could not say yes because you still had me, is that right?” You know you awfully sound like you are in a session with one of your patients but you don’t care. You need to get to the root of this unbearable pain and cut it off for once and for all.

Jungkook nods. Even though his eyes are hidden from yours, you know, those are full of guilt and shame but not a single speck of love and affection for you.

You close your eyes, let the tears fall unbound, shut the box tight and take two steps back from your soon-to-be ex-boyfriend.

“I know this is a stupid question but I- I’m just confirming” another sob leaves your mouth unintentionally, “do you want to break up? With me?”

Jungkook pinches the bridge of his nose. He is probably finding a way to say yes without having to hurt you more than you can bear.

“Y/N..” he murmurs. This is most likely the last time you are hearing him call you by your name.

“Jungkook, please, just yes or no.” You take another step away from him.

“Yes.” Jungkook breathes out. His eyes are still shut tight.

Even though you knew what his answer would be, it still hurts much more than it did in your imagination.

You feel as if your head is underwater, you can’t breathe, can’t fight, can’t scream. You need to be saved but the person you want to reach out to is the same person who pushed you into this unfathomable water.

Your vision gets blurry with tears again, you can’t see Jungkook anymore. And you guess it’s better that way.

“Okay. That's all I think. That’s all for our three years of history. I hope you lead a happier life from now on. Goodbye….. Jungkook.” and with that you left without waiting for him to say anything. You left him and a part of yourself with him.

You are again sitting at your dining table, holding your phone tightly in your hand. You are again re-reading a headline just like you did a month and two days ago. You are again trying not to cry but you are failing miserably.

“Calvin Kline fame Jeon Jungkook confirms the rumors by kissing rumored girlfriend actress Han Jiwon at a club downtown - The agency is yet to provide a statement.”

It's cruel, how you have to wake up exactly at 7 in the morning despite crying for the better part of the night.

It's even more cruel, how your vacation application (which you have been pursuing for more than a week now) was declined harshly because there's a "priority client" and you, arguably the most competent child psychologist of the clinic, have to take over the case.

You reach for your phone and turn off the alarm.

Opening your eyes, you stare at the ceiling blankly. It's been two weeks since you last saw Jungkook at the restaurant. It's been two weeks since your relationship came to an end. And it's been four months since you are sleeping on your own but you still crave for his warmth beside you.

Love can be a funny thing. At one moment it's fulfilling you, injecting your heart with a sickening sweetness and at another one it's ripping off your urge to continue living, it's stuffing you with insecurity and self doubts that you hardly knew the existence of.

You wonder what Jungkook is doing now. Is he sleeping by himself or is he waking up beside Jiwon? Is he kissing her shoulders softly like he used to do to you or is he hovering above her, spreading her legs and inserting his large shaft inside.

Your thoughts are shaken off with the vibrating sound of your phone.

It's Miseon. The receptionist of The Mindscope ( the clinic you work for) and probably the only person you can call a friend in this entire world.

"Morning." You greet.

"Hey. Heard that your application was declined?" Miseon chrips from the other side of the line.

"Yeah. For some priority clients. Kim asshole Namjoon will be deep-fried in burning oil in a giant ass frying pan in hell." You grumble.

"So you are coming back to work today I guess."

"Yes I have to."

"Will you be okay tho?" You can hear concern in your friend's voice. She's the only person apart from your family to know about your and Jungkook's relationship. So, she called you immediately after seeing the tabloids twelve days ago. You cried on her shoulder when she visited you.

"Yeah. I guess. I have to start doing the actual work anyway. My eyes are in pain for the prolonged hours I spent staring at Microsoft Word for these two weeks. Ugh. Now I hate documentation even more."

Miseon chuckles, “Okay, see you at the clinic then.”

“Yeah. see you.”

You drag yourself out of the bed and head towards the washroom. If this is a new start, then you better accept it.

As soon as the warm soothing water touches your body, memories come rushing back, flooding your mind with despair in the process.

“Jungkook… I’m gonna get late” you whine, head tilting back with pleasure.

Jungkook’s hand snakes around your waist, fingers reach for your sensitive bundle of nerves.

“Five minutes won’t hurt, baby.” he whispers in your ear as his index and middle finger draw slow circles on your wet clit.

His other hand teases one of your wet nipples, twisting and tugging it as harshly as he wants.

A pool of slick gushes out of your hole making jungkook groan at the feeling. He dips his middle finger in your hole and collects some of your wetness, he then uses that to rub more smooth circles on your clit.

You choke on thin air, moaning his name again and again you start to roll your hip on his naked cock.

His giant cock fits perfectly along your ass crack, as if it was made to fit inside you.

You roll your hips harder to elicit a reaction from your boyfriend.

“Such a dirty girl, huh? All for me.” Jungkook’s husky voice pierce through your sober mind and you find yourself dazed with love and pleasure.

Jungkook increases the pace of his fingers and you get more and more wet each passing second.

“Kook.. I- I need you.” you manage to breathe out.

“Don’t be vague, Y/N. Tell me what you exactly need.” Jungkook replies smugly.

“I need your giant cock to ruin my pussy, daddy.” you reply, squeezing the tit that has been deprived of your boyfriend’s attention.

“Whatever my baby says.” and with that jungkook slips inside you in one go. You barely get any chance to adjust because he starts moving right away.

He fucks you slow. His fingers never stop teasing your clit and soon you two reach your climax. He fills you with his cum and you coat his cock with yours.

“Let’s get cleaned now, hm?” Jungkook places a kiss on your shoulder as he turns on the shower.

Your back slides down the shower wall. You shake violently as loud sobs leave your throat one after another.

“You are so cruel, Jungkook. You are so fucking cruel.” you scream. Your throat hurts but your heart hurts even more.

You should have read the signs. When he kept on talking about Jiwon, aka his new friend from the agency, you should have perceived that shine in his eyes.

You should have confronted him more when he said he would have a drink with her after his shoot.

You should have asked his whereabouts when he ignored your calls and texts because he visited her in one of her drama sets.

You should have done a lot of things but most importantly, you should have loved him a little less and loved yourself a little more.

Counselee Information: - Name: Jung Sua Age: 7 (seven) Gender: Female (F) Guardian: Jung Hoseok Relationship with the guardian: Father of the counselee Reasons behind seeking help: 1. Changes in behavior 2. Quieter and more reserved than before 3. Frequent nightmares 4. Mild panic attacks

“So, what do you think?” Namjoon questions, leaning on the plush chair, placed at the end of your table.

“Nothing complicated. You could have handled it yourself. There was absolutely no need of rejecting my vacation applications again and again.” you spat, being very unimpressed with the dimpled smirk on your boss’ face.

“Oh my god. What’s wrong?” he dramatically leans forward. Placing a hand on his chest, Namjoon continues, “I thought you will be in a better mood after two weeks of work from home. But you seem even more annoyed than before.”

“For your information, I asked for a damn holiday not work from home aka prolonged hours of documentation. I really need some time off, Namjoon. I am not kidding.” Your voice sounds so defeated that Namjoon has to sit straight.

A serious expression takes over his features as he replies, “I know, Y/N. You are definitely not the type to take leaves for fun. But I am helpless here. The client has asked for you personally. He has done his own research and concluded that you can help his daughter better than everyone else in this clinic. I could not do anything.”

You nod understanding his point of view.

You are always more than ready to help these little, innocent souls out. It pains you to see these babies experiencing something as horrific as panic attacks.

But this time you need therapy more than anyone else under your radar. Even though your exterior doesn’t show the unbearable pain your interior is going through, you still need some solace. You are really unwilling to work at this moment and you doubt if you can help anyone else when you are not mentally fit yourself.

But you hardly have a choice. And maybe, just maybe, you will get a chance of distracting yourself from Jungkook's thoughts. Maybe you will be able to take a breather. Maybe you will heal in the process. Maybe?

“The appointment is at 11 am, right?” You ask the man sitting right in front of you.

“Yes,” he answers.

“It’s 10:49 already. Get out and let me prepare myself.” you mutter, closing your eyes and leaning back on your chair.

“Okay okay. Don’t be so aggressive.” Namjoon chuckles before leaving you alone in the cabin.

You go through Jung Sua's records once more to verify if there's a health condition you should be aware of. But there isn't anything.

Just when you close the file, a knock rings on the cabin door.

You sit straight. Ready to welcome a new friend.

Yuna, your assistant, knocks once more before pushing the door slowly. She walks in first and then holds the door open for the guests.

And the cutest seven years old, you have ever seen, walks inside. She's so small that she can be easily mistaken for a five year old. Her chubby cheeks and immaculately done pigtails makes her look like a doll.

You almost coo at the sight.

Even though you mostly work with kids, for the past year you were working with only teenagers. It's been long since you had the pleasure to serve yourself for a kid less than ten years old, let alone a seven year one.

"Hello there, Miss Sua. How are you doing?" You say in a jovial voice, trudging towards the baby.

Sua tenses a bit and looks behind her, looking for shelter from her father. He stands right behind Sua, offering her to hold one of his hands. Sua takes that readily.

You come forward and sit on your knees to maintain an eye level with your new friend.

"Don't worry. I'm your new friend. My name is Y/N." You offer her your hand. She hesitates a bit and then looks at her father for confirmation.

You follow her cue and tilt your head up to take a look at the father of your counselee.

Only if you weren't the embodiment of damsel of distress these days, you could very well have a love at first sight.

The man flaunts a pair of incredibly beautiful yet intimidating eyes, a chiseled jaw that can cut you into pieces, perfectly styled dark hair that falls on his face, and a pair of heart shaped lips which enhances the overall beauty of his face. The fitted dress pants and the black dress shirt give hints of the lithe, well-structured body that lies inside.

He smiles at you, you do the same. And then you feel a softer, smaller hand wrapping up your fingertips lightly.

Her cuteness makes you giggle.

You stand up, taking her hand on yours, you start walking towards a cozier corner of your cabin, where you usually counsel kids. Her father follows you closely behind.

There's a small and round glass table along with three chairs. One is meant for you and two others are meant for the counselees and their guardians.

You turn towards Sua’s father. Smiling a little and you say “You need to take the seat first, so that she can be assured it is safe here.”

“Sure” he replies. His voice is smooth and light, a contrast to his dark and manly features.

He sits down on the bigger chair and pats on the smaller one, “come on Sua, com ‘ere.”

Sua leaves your hand and wiggles towards her dad. She easily plops down on her seat.

“Yuna, can you prepare the game room please?” You ask your assistant.

“Sure, Y/N” She says before closing the door as you get comfortable in your own chair.

Sua regards you with her big, round doe eyes. She looks at you so intensely as if you have grown two horns in your head.

You chuckle a bit, “Sua, don’t you like your new friend? Don’t you like me?”

Sua stays silent.

“Sua is very friendly. I am sure she will like Y/N very soon. Isn’t it, baby?” Sua’s father chimes in, squeezing one of her little hands with his bigger, rougher ones.

You are so accustomed to your patients and their guardians to address you as “doctor”, that you had to take a moment after your name rolled out of Mr. Jung’s mouth.

The change is welcomed anyway.

You divert your eyes from Sua to him, only to find him smiling at you warmly. You mirror his smile. His smile is so damn gorgeous that you can’t help but feel contaminated with it.

“Sua, what do you like to play the most?” you focus on Sua again.

“Mario kart” she replies briefly, staring down at her feet.

“Okay. That's a great game. But what would you like to play outside? For example with your classmates during lunchtime?” You place your next question.

“My classmates don’t play with me.” She was quick with her answer.

Your smile drops instantly and you already start mapping out all the possible sources of the issues she is facing.

Nodding to yourself in understanding, you proceed, “Okay, let’s not talk about games anymore. You tell me what you like more, oranges or mangoes?”

“Mangoes.” she replies.

“Okay” standing up from your seat, you walk towards your table and call Yuna. She comes within a few seconds.

You instruct her to take Sua to the game room and treat her to some delicious mango juice. Even though Sua hesitates for a bit, her father’s encouragement works really well.

As soon as Sua leaves the room, you find yourself quite nervous under the intimidating gaze of Mr. Jung.

This setting is nothing new. You have been into one-on-one conversations with your counselees’ parents for more times than you can count. But none of them were as young and attractive as Mr. Jung.

You inhale a long breath before continuing, “so, Mr. Jung, since when did you start noticing these changes in Sua?”

“Almost a month ago. I can’t pinpoint an exact date but she has gradually become very quiet over this last month. She used to be very chatty. She used to tell me every little thing in detail about her day, her friends, what she had for lunch, what colors she used in drawings and so on. Now-a-days her answers have become vague and insignificant.” Mr. Jung sighs.

“Hmm. and the nightmares?” you ask, scribbling on the ipad.

“Around the same time. She woke up at 2 in the morning, ran to my room crying and breathing heavily. She didn’t tell me what it was about but kept on saying she was afraid. The same thing happened two more times.” He completes.

“Umm. The next question might be a little personal but the information is required for future counsellings. I ask for your understanding.” you sit straight. He nods.

“You said she came running to you when she had nightmares. Hence, I assume you were alone in the room. What about Sua’s mother?”

“I am a single dad, Doctor. Sua’s mother and I were in a casual relationship when she conceived with Sua unexpectedly. Both of us were just starting our careers so it was tough for us to think of getting married. On the top of that we didn’t like each other enough to proceed with that option. So, we decided to co-parent. But…” he pauses, takes in a long breath and then continues, “she disappeared after giving birth. She left a note behind as an apology, saying that she is not ready to be a mother, asking me not to contact her anymore. My mother and sister helped me in raising Sua so beautifully. They are the only ones to become something close to a mother figure for her. That’s all.”

You feel something warm flooding in your chest. You don’t know what it is, it can be respect, can be sympathy, can be even admiration for this man who you don’t even know properly.

A genuine smile takes over your face as you mutter, “You have done a great job Mr. Jung. You have raised a beautiful daughter all by yourself. You have worked hard.”

Mr, Jung’s dark eyes flood with some emotions you can’t quite name. He stares at you intensely, so much so that you feel he is reading you inside out. You can’t help but stare back at him.

“Call me Hoseok. So that I can call you by your name too. Is that okay, Y/N?” his voice is deeper than earlier, his smile is lopsided, more like a smirk.

You find yourself easily smiling along with him, something that has been quite tough for you to do for the past few months.

“Sure. Hoseok.” Your reply comes out without any further thought.

Taglist:-

@phenomenalgirl9 @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @soraviie @sukunabitch @chimchimmarie @coffeedepressionsoup @meowstake @vonvi-blog @nochuel @xjoonchildx @justmewondering-recs @cuteipat @miakey98 @purpleanchorcrown @chimmisbae @ane102 @junniesoleilkth @terjeonbebas @kookssecret @appleh4ad @kayleeshinee @whoa-jo

550 notes · View notes

potatomountain · 7 months

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CIY- 6

Chapter Six

📍pairing: detective ateez ot8 x detective reader

📍word count: 3.2k

📍network: @pirateeznet

📍Warnings: (TBD)

📍Beta readers (and sole motivation): @flurrys-creativity , @candypop1611 and @daesukiii

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San spent a great deal of time going over the Green Vipers with you, in fact the Black Pirates had never gotten discussed as the two of you had been so wrapped up in the discussion you didn’t move on. He had moved around the desk and leaned next to you while he pulled up the files through your access, letting you write down any notes and taking his time.

The two of you were discussing the hierarchy of the known heads of the Green Vipers when your phone started buzzing, a picture of a pretty boy lighting up your screen. San looked over curiously, brow lifted as his lower lip jutted out in a pout. “You know pretty boys like that?” With a sigh, you picked up the phone more so to ignore San’s teasing pout. “Hyunjin I’m on probation I can-”

“Sure you can because currently I’m not on the team.” Hyunjin’s sass was heavy already but he caught you off guard. “Don’t worry sweetcheeks, it’s not permanent.” “Explain.” Standing up straight your eyebrows scrunched together as the phone call now had your undivided attention.

Hyunjin hummed on the other side mischievously. “I can tell you now or maybe over some lunch tomorrow? You moved away and now I have to actually make time to come visit you. Do you know how that hurts? My best friend moving across the city from moi? Like just tell me you don’t love me anymore next time.”

Despite the dramatics, you couldn’t help but smile. You missed this, missed him, knowing damn well that despite what happened each one of them could easily worm their way back into your heart. You loved them after all. “Still dramatic as ever.” “Should I be anything less? Jeez that’s an insult sweetie, you know better.” A genuine laugh was pulled out of you, grin widening. “I do, I do. Then lunch tomorrow? Text me a place?” “Who says I don’t already have one in mind? I better see you looking as fine as the day I wed you my boo. I’ll text you. Kisses.” Hyunjin blew a few into your ear which you happily replied with one of your own before hanging up with a laugh.

As you set the phone down you were still grinning, nearly forgetting you weren’t alone… until San cleared his throat. “Boyfriend?” A bit startled, you blinked a few times before shaking your head. “Friend. Hyunjin.” You pointed at the photo of the two of you at Disney. “Old unit, he just wants to hang out tomorrow.” “Aw, I want to join.” Your face scrunched up several levels of disgust and judgment. “Excuse you?” He chuckled, watching you with a slightly more intense gaze than he had before. “I liked your laugh, I want to hear more of it.” The heat that coursed through you burned your ears and cheeks. “Wha- where? Excuse you?!” More flustered by the second he grinned, turning so he was leaning his side against your desk. “I laugh plenty normally!” “I’m sure you do, but what’s the likelihood it’ll be in my presence where I can just soak it in?”

You felt your face get even more heated, scoffing at his words. “Some other time when I like you more.” “You don’t like me already? Damn I’m not doing a good enough job then.”

With a grunt you shut your laptop annoyed. “Oh just drop it.” “I don’t wanna.” He stood up and blocked your way with ease as you tried to get out of the little space behind the desk. “So can I join you?” “No!” Huffing, you squeezed past him but not without pressing the entirety of your side into his chest. “Stop fooling around and let me go-” “But where are you going? We weren’t done.” He had a wide shit-eating grin on his face that popped his dimples out the entire time you dodged and tried to put some space between you two.

He just stalked you around the lobby, clearly getting a kick out of how you were running from him. “I’m packing up for the day and heading home! I’ve had enough of this team’s mental torture for one day don’t you think?”

He pouted at that, hands going up in the air in surrender. “Fair point. I’ll let you head out for the day- but we’ll be going over everything Monday when you come back.”

Sighing with relief you slid back behind your desk to finish packing up your things. “Thank you. Liking you more already.” He chuckled, standing on the other side of your desk and watching you pack up your laptop and notes. “Noted. I’ll let Captain know I dismissed you.” He stuffed his hands in his pockets, watching as you slung your bag over your shoulder and headed for the door. “Enjoy your day off sweetcheeks.” He winked, using the nickname Hyunjin had called you.

Flustered all over again, you rushed out, stomping on the urge to flick him off considering he was doing you a kindness- even if he was teasing you about it.

— — — — — — — —

You were more than a little excited about your lunch date, dressing up your casual because otherwise Hyunjin was just going to judge you- with love of course. He had messaged you a time and place and informed you with plenty of spam not to be late.

Which you weren’t, but he was. Something you expected really, the man did like making a dramatic entrance when he could.

You kept glancing at your phone, tapping your toes on the concrete outside the small, most likely family owned restaurant. Looking around when you weren’t waiting for a text, you couldn’t find his pretty self anywhere at first.

When you did spot him, he made a show of waving, but didn’t rush. He was, as usual, dressed in style; you knew modeling and fashion was his second career choice. Pocketing your phone when he closed the distance, you sighed, only to pull him in for a hug which he was just a tad reluctant about at first. “There’s my drama queen.” “And my feisty boo.” He gave a gentle squeeze before pulling away and looking you over scrutinizingly. “Hmmm… it checks out. I was afraid I’d have to drag you shopping before lunch if you weren’t up to my standards.” You rolled your eyes, smiling despite the banter. “Oh please, you would love to go shopping.” “Caught me. But this way it can wait until after lunch, I’m famished.” With a wink he pulled you into the restaurant. Perhaps to show you some mercy he didn’t immediately hound you with the million questions he wanted to ask, instead berating you for moving so far and complaining about the absolute travesty it was that you did. He was watching your every move and expression as he did, waiting until food was ordered before he dropped his so-called niceties and dove in. “Be honest, how are you doing without me? Absolutely lost right?”

You rolled your eyes and sipped your drink, thinking over the last week. “It’s been hell, Jinnie. I miss you. I miss the team. But I also can’t believe things happened like that. Even Minho agreed! I’m just so- ugh!” Slamming the drink down, rage surged through you. “I know I can get ahead of myself, that I can bend the rules and get worked up on a case but how can they just-” “Sweetie…” Hyunjin softened and reached out, placing his hand over yours. “I’m sorry they did that, you belonged with us and it pisses me off that they forced you out like this. It hasn’t been easy without you. Fuck it’s a mess.” “Then why… Hyunjin, why do I have to start over with a unit that practically loathes me?” Tears pricked your eyes, emotion making your throat tight. “It’s infuriating, and it hurts. Chan, Minho, Felix… even Binnie. I never expected any of them to just boot me like that, especially Minho! We made a promise in school to be detectives together. Partners. He might have joined the S.K unit before me, but we were partners before the unit.” Hyunjin looked torn, his thumb brushing the back of your hand. “Listen… it was shitty of Minho, of them all, but I also understand why. As much as I hate it. You deserve to do bigger cases than dealing with minors. Sweetie you are so driven and such a damned good detective. You shoot as well as Minho, you can run as fast as Changbin and solve puzzles as fast as Thing 1 and 2-”

“Min and Innie would not let you live it down if they heard you call them that-” You interrupted, earning a playful glare.

“My point is, you have the skills to do more as a detective and it’s not with our cases. What pisses me off was that it wasn’t your choice- you needed to be the one to decide when you were ready to do that, not Chan or the board: but you! That was shitty as hell the way they handled it but I understand why they think you deserve a different team.” He took your hand in both his, leaning forward to be a bit more intense. “I still deserve to be your partner but I’m not as cool of a detective as you.” You blinked back tears, staring down at your joined hands. “I know… I know you all feel that way; I read Chan’s report. And someday I’ll be able to forgive them, but not right now. Fuck Jinnie, you know how I felt about them, how much that team and being a part of it meant to me. I still needed them and then they just pushed me out the door?” “I know… I know.” You shook your head, looking up through your watery lashes with raw emotion. “Hyunjin… you don’t know the half of it. That night we went out clubbing and I got wasted? Chan was in my apartment when I woke up...” His gasp was scandalous, eyes going wide as he leaned in more. “Did you fuck him? Oh my God-”

“No! He told me he slept on the couch. I guess you called him to come pick us up when we were both just blitzed out and he took you home first. He said he stayed because I asked, but uh…” You trailed off, cheeks burning bright as you recalled the morning a week before you were told you had to transfer. Chan had been in your kitchen making coffee… shirtless considering you were wearing it. “He definitely had a hickey on his neck and there might be a chance I put it there after drunkenly confessing. But I’m positive no sex happened.”

He groaned with disappointment, pulling his hands away and shaking a finger at you. “I don’t remember a hickey but he had been insistent on turtlenecks all week. Chan isn’t the type to sleep with a drunk woman… oh my God-'' When it dawned on him, he sat up, once more appearing scandalized but grinning from the juicy gossip. “You finally confessed? Even drunk? Did he ever come talk to you about it?” You shook your head, frowning deeply. “No… the next conversation we had alone he was handing me the paperwork that informed me I was being removed from the unit and would have my choice of precinct to transfer to. I had to fill it right there…” His face fell again, watching you when it clicked: you confessed, drunkenly, and in response you got kicked out of the unit in as nice a way as possible. “Oh no, baby…. That’s…”

Tears pricked once more but you blinked away, unable to look at him. “Yeah. So, I’ve been rejected by him as not only my Chief but also as one of the men I’ve been madly in love with for what, a year?” “Well fuck him, but not literally- oh food.” He stopped the conversation as lunch was brought out, effortlessly flirting with the waiter.

You rolled your eyes, looking elsewhere so you didn’t have to cringe at the level of charm Hyunjin had. While your eyes lazily scanned over the restaurant, they caught familiar faces. You narrowed your eyes, the two men turning away and fixing their so-called disguises. “Jinnie, you were tailed?” “Oh I forgot about them, I just got so excited when I saw you.” Hyunjin turned his attention back towards you as the waiter walked off. “Are you mad about that?” You sighed, shaking your head and looking back at one of your best friend’s. “Not at all. Jisung called me on my first day you know; it makes sense that such an anxious bean would follow you to check up on me. And Felix is just as bad of a worrywart. I adored that about him though.” “Neither of them have been happy that they can’t check in on you. I swear Jisung’s squirrel energy has just increased tenfold without you around.” He paused to dig into his food.

You laughed at the image, wiping away the unshed tears as gently as you could before also digging in. “Want to give them a run for their money? I’ve been meaning to check out the neighborhood.” “Well duh, I did say I wanted to go shopping.” “Maybe we can get them better disguises while we’re at it. Whose idea was the trench coats?”

Hyunjin glanced over at the two men huddled at a table on the other side of the restaurant. “Hmmm, hard to say, they both would. Don’t they realize that makes them stand out more? Like seriously, they’re detectives, how shameful can they be?”

He steered the conversation to lighter waters while you two ate, which was mostly just scrutinizing Felix and Jisung’s outfits and behavior. You pointed out they would do horrible undercover work which switched the talk over to that. Hyunjin easily agreed he couldn’t stand trying to blend in to watch someone or spend hours to days doing that but he could see you thriving.

By the end of the meal he had your spirits back up and stomach full.

The two of you spent quite a bit of time after that walking around. You found some cute shops you liked, some places you wanted to check out, but overall got a vibe for the neighborhood. You were just a couple of blocks before the warehouse and docks, but you noticed quite a bit of newer businesses. Even while spending time with a friend you couldn’t pull yourself out of work mode fully, taking note to look into that later on.

Usually local businesses take a hit from heavy gang activity and you knew this was Black Pirate territory. Of course, aside from the White Guardians, you knew the least about that gang.

“I know that look.” Hyunjin was watching you with a bit of a smirk. “So, going to tell me about it? Your new unit?” You sighed, shaking your head as you both grabbed food from the food truck you ordered from for dinner. Several hours had passed and you two hadn’t realized it until the sun was setting and you were hungry. The two tagalongs were still following, clearly making a day out of it as well if their bags were anything to go by. “They don’t want me there, well most of them.” “Most?”

You shrugged at his inquiry, taking a bite to avoid answering right away. “I met the Captain yesterday and another Detective. The Captain seems odd but doesn’t hate me entirely I think and the other one has been… nice.” “I hear a but there- and not a nice butt.” “The others have not been. In fact they made it perfectly clear they don’t want me around. From straight up rude and blunt to condescending and yanking me around. They refused to give me an actual desk- I work at a receptionist desk and they tried to give me that job!” He listened intently, walking with his hands full. “Sounds like a bunch of dicks.” “Mhmm. But considering the nature of the unit, I'll refrain from speaking out too much. We do have two tails.” You winked over at him, glancing back and waving at the two. You had waved once a few hours ago but they didn’t join you, more so bending the rules than outright breaking. That was fine with you, you didn’t want to handle Felix just yet. Sweet intentions didn’t make the pain less.

“True true. Ready to head to your new place then? I need to see where you live so I know where to suddenly crash when I miss you. And I also want to get back home before it gets too late, my beauty sleep counts on it.” Hyunjin sighed heavily. “Thankfully we aren’t very far.”

It was nice to have a normal conversation, some comradery after the last few weeks. Hyunjin made things normal for you, talking as if you were still part of the unit, as if nothing had changed at all. You relished in it on your walk back to your place, the sun set and dinner fully settled in your stomach as you approached your building.

You slowed when you recognized a familiar figure at your complex door, an arm loosely around a woman that was attached to his arm. Your sense of normalcy was dashed away when he turned to smile down at the woman, confirming who it was. “Well fuck-”

At your curse Mingi looked back, the smile wiped clean off by an expression of confusion.

“You know him?” Hyunjin asked next to you, looking between you two but you just shook your head. “The girl?” “Don’t worry about it Jinnie- come on up.” The door was opened and you rushed to get it before it closed, glaring at Mingi’s back as he ushered the woman inside. You were hoping, with every fiber of your being, that it was the woman who lived here.

But as you led Hyunjin up the stairs, Mingi was clearly directing the woman up the stairs too. You were getting more annoyed by the second, more anxious, as you stopped at the top of the stairs and watched. Mingi took her down the hall and stopped at an apartment. Only when he pulled the keys out and unlocked the door did your blood run cold.

Apartment 17, right next to yours.

Cursing under your breath you strode down the hall and stopped at your own apartment, putting the bags down as you got your key out. “This is fucking insane. Oh my God, how bad can my luck be?”

“Sweetcheeks, are you sure you don’t know him? He’s staring right at you? And he’s hot.” Hyunjin leaned down to mutter in your ear, staring over at Mingi that you knew was watching you.

At the woman’s giggle, you looked over, eyes going wide as Mingi dipped his head just then to kiss her. Not your sweet chaste kiss, but he dragged it out, pulling the woman close and his hand going to her ass in the miniskirt. Your cheeks heated up, turning away and unlocking the door before pushing it open. You pulled Hyunjin in quickly, then the bags, and slammed the door.

Mingi was your new neighbor, and he just brought a date home.

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