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#there was like 3 minutes left and i foolishly thought it would all be well
avgeriss · 1 year
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BANANA FISH ENDING VILE
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icallhimjoey · 11 months
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I can just imagine joe being a sleep talker but the kind where he seems kind of awake and you can talk to him. I imagine him just loopy and happy, all dreamy just talking about the person he loves whilst cuddling a pillow.
ugh fuck OFF! ok so, this is an extremely short little thing, so sorry, but, how could I not write this request ????? i had to Wordcount: 1K
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Mine
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It was rare for you to wake up in the middle of the night, to be awoken by a full bladder in need of relief. This is why it took you a second to realise why you'd even woken up at 3 in the morning to begin with.
It was dark.
Quiet.
Well, there wasn't any noise that should've woken you up. Joe didn't snore, but would randomly mumble things in his sleep sometimes. He seemed sound asleep, however, so that couldn't have been what had pulled you from your slumber.
There were no pains, no cramps. You didn't feel too hot or too cold, were actually really comfortable... so then, why? Why were you up?
The little zing in your lower stomach gave it away. It was dull, but definitely there.
You had to pee.
You did everything with your eyes closed in an attempt to stay as asleep as possible.
Silly, but effective.
You peed in the dark and decided you'd flush in the morning. Didn't want to wake Joe any more than getting out of the bed might have already done.
When you slid back into the bedroom, there was rustling of covers as you saw through squinty eyes how Joe turned over in his sleep.
You were quick to dive back under the covers where it was warm and cosy, finding instant comfort where you left in a minute earlier. Without trying to turn too much, you settled into your favourite sleep position, on your stomach with one knee hiked up, ready to drift back off.
But then,
"No, that's mine."
Joe.
He spoke in his normal speaking voice, enunciating each word as if he was awake.
For a second, you thought that maybe he was.
"What?" you whispered into the dark. "What's yours?" you hadn't taken anything. Your head was on your pillow and if anyone was hogging covers, it was him. Not you.
"Stop it, that's mine, you're..." Joe stopped to yawn, then finished, "You're not allowed."
You leant up onto your elbows and tried to find Joe's face in the dark.
"Joe?"
Nothing. Just heavy slow breaths.
"Baby?"
Silence.
Yea, he was definitely asleep. You let your breath audibly escape you as you let yourself fall back down into your pillow. You'd ask him tomorrow if he'd remember what he'd dreamt about.
Just when you were on the verge of falling back asleep, Joe let out a loud, annoyed groan. It woke you right back up.
"Stop looking! I told you, that is mine."
"Joe," you used a heavy, tired arm to find his to grab. Shook him a little. A futile attempt to wake him, as it did nothing.
"You can't look and you can't touch."
You were tired and mustered up the energy to go, "Okay, I won't look or touch."
"Good."
And for a little bit, it was quiet and you foolishly thought you'd be able to fall back asleep if you were quick enough.
"Listen, I get it." Joe suddenly said again, and it almost felt like you were snoozing. Brought back into consciousness every couple of minutes by Joe's voice.
"I get it," Joe repeated on the back end of a sigh. "But, she's mine, so..."
That piqued your interest enough to lift yourself back onto your elbows again.
"What?"
"Mine." Joe repeated, and you saw how he was definitely 100 per cent asleep still.
"Who is yours?"
"She is."
"Who is she?"
If he was going to say any name other than yours, you'd smack him right awake. Softly, of course, nothing to actually hurt him. But still.
"She is..."
Yes?
Yeesss?
"She is gorgeous, isn't she? Look at her."
A grin grew on your face despite the sleep that was trying its best to tug your eyelids down. Made you blink very slowly.
"You said I wasn't allowed to look."
"No." A beat, and then, "I have to leave."
You could never make much sense of the sleep-talking conversations Joe tried to rope you into sometimes. Which made sense. He was asleep. Dreaming.
Dreams were always weird hallucinations where you were in one place and then without warning in the next, and the person you were hanging out with was actually a giraffe and you were always missing half your teeth which was always traumatising, yet none of it would be questioned at all, not until you woke up, anyway.
The fact that this chat seemed quite coherent was unusual.
"Where you going?" you plopped back down again, but kept facing Joe. You were able to just make out the outline of his face in the dark as he laid on his back, and even like this, barely able to see any of his features, he looked nice.
He had a good profile.
Pretty.
Hair a right mess, but, pretty still.
"I don't want to go."
"Mhmm... then stay."
"Okay. Will you tell them I won't go?"
"Fine."
Another silence fell, and you were so sleepy. You thought maybe you'd just have to learn how to keep this chat going whilst you slept too. Joe stirred on his side of the bed and you felt how a hand searched across until it found your waist.
It didn't grab onto anything, but had found what it was looking for and just laid there by your side.
"Can't go if she won't come."
A tiny gasp escaped you.
"Why... why won't she come?"
Joe sighed deeply, turned and nuzzled into his pillow, said, "Work."
You fucking knew exactly who she was.
"That's not her fault though, is it?"
It wasn't as if you had enjoyed telling Joe there were no gaps in your agenda to come and visit him whilst he worked overseas. Telling Joe no could definitely bring you great joy, because he really needed to hear it sometimes, but, it was no fun when it came to things like this.
"No," Joe mumbled, voice softer now, and you knew he'd be quiet again soon.
You decided to try again, just to know for sure.
"Hey," you whispered. "Who is she, again?"
"Mhmm," Joe hummed, hand springing back to life, now finding its way around your waist, hooking just enough to pull you into him. You gladly let him, curled into his chest as he curled around.
"Mine," he whispered, took a big whiff with his nose stuck in your hair.
"She's mine."
the end
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whatdoesshedotothem · 2 years
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Sunday 11 November 1832
8 55
11 ¾
two long and good grubbles last night  she spoke during it as she often does ssaid she felt it was better than usual etc.  in fact it was longish and hardish work to me   first with right then left hand  and she sleeps all night on my arm or more on me   so that I sleep nor much nor well    she said she was tired after each grubbling and this morning said she was not well   it was sso great excitement    we talked this morning of going abroad  she quite against it  cried at the thought of leaving the kingdom  pother but I behaved most kindly and well and got her rather better     said we really must fix on some plan but thought I what a plague she will be   this won’t do    I had asked her if she meant to keep her word to me   ‘yes if she was not bound to Mr A-‘    I turned it off but oh oh thought I I will plan all for being off without her if I once leave her (as I told her) there is an end of it and my mind is to make as I can easily some beautiful  high honour excuse sacrifice my own happiness to hers    and get well rid of her - I read prayers - breakfast at 8 ¾ - I afterwards talked instructively about reading Luke last chapter verse 25  - and the Lord’s prayer etc - asked Miss W- to give me a society for promoting Christian knowledge bible - a nice small one that she had - which she promised to do  my conversation rather roused her and delighted Miss Parkhill who complimented my powers and mind  - Miss W- is too insipid and nervous and poorly and despairing for anything or person but Mr A-   when I asked her this morning if she was not pleased to have me  ‘yes but I should not be there tomorrow’   thus not ever enjoying the present for the thought of the future   what can I do with her?  leave her and have done with her and let Mr A- have her   at 10 ¼ walked with Miss W- as far as New House on her way to church then home by Lower Brea and came in at 11 ½ - just talked to my aunt as if Miss W-‘s being so poorly and unable to get about would never suit me and as if I might wish to be off our agreement and then should not fail to make some good and sufficient excuse and at be liberty again    my aunt determined not to fret about me sure I should manage things as I liked and as ssuited me best - in 55 minutes from 12 read the prayers and sermon 17 very good Mr Knight - went to my aunt at 1 ½ - Dr HSB- had foolishly directed to me ‘Miss Lister Halifax’ so the letter (of the 18th) went to a Miss Lister who sent it up yesterday - note in envelope so double postage and the boy who brought it to pay - then a note from Miss W- to see  the envelope for my own eye only but worth the additional postage - note from Mr Holroyde solicitor with plan of Northgate property on behalf of his client shewing the plot joining on to St James’s church and the North parade and containing 5625 yards or thereabouts, that his client wishes to purchase - told my aunt I should I thought a pound a yard - calculating what 5625 yards would come to at 18/. 15/. and 10/. per yard till after 4 - wrote 2 ¾ pages to Breadalbane McL- and note to ‘Miss Lister West Parade Halifax’ thanking her for sending up the letter and enclosing ½ postage and now John brings would he had 3d. more to pay for the boy who brought it – dinner at 6 ¼ - afterwards had Washington paid him several bills for wearing and draining at Southolm and stones from my own quarry, altogether to the amount of £50.17.2 ½ - annoyed about the quarry – would have it settled, or would let them have no more stone – seeing I could not well do other, or could do no better, agreed to take a shilling a yard – the town of Hipperholme wants 100 yards – to be measured off and paid for before they begin of getting – He seemed surprised when I said Pickles was doing the draining at Lower Place at 1/3 a yard as his (Washingtons’) man Turner has charged 1/6 a yard for what he has done at Southolm which W- said was better done than what Pickles is doing tho’ he (W-) afterwards said he had not seen it – W- values William Greens’ double cottage at £100 (leaschold) – asked W- the value of the land at Northgate adjoining the church – he said 7/. a yard but on my remonstrating owned I ought not to take less than 10/. a yard   N.B. W- shall not value much for me at least I shall never promise to abide by his valuations - Letter tonight 1 ½ pp. from Eugénie Pierre saying she is quite satisfied and will be ready when I give her notice – but it does not exactly seem that her sister had shewed her all my letters respecting her – however I shall consider her engaged and try her – fine day – read a little of tonights’ courier – went upstairs at 10 50 at which hour F50°
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zafirosreverie · 3 years
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Por amor al arte (Julieta x Fem!Reader) part 22
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part1 < > next
a/n: Papi Chayanne helped here with his song Lo dejaría todo <3
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“Y/N”
You jumped a little and turned quickly, sighing in relief when you realized that it was Alma who was approaching you. The last few days had been terrible for your nerves and the rest of the family had realized that something was terribly wrong. You and Julieta didn't speak to each other, you didn't look for each other, you avoided being together for more than a few minutes and you seemed unable to see each other in the eye.
The brunette's daughters had tried to talk to you, worried that you had fought, but you had denied everything and said that the stress of the fire and what happened was finally getting to you. You had no idea what lie Julieta would have told them, but she didn't seem any better than you. Also, the days had been incredibly cold and cloudy, so you knew that Pepa either already knew, or suspected that you had done something to her sister. And none of the options reassured you.
"Are you all right dear? You seem upset” Alma told you, snapping you out of your thoughts.
"Yeah yeah" you lied "it's just, you know, I'm a little tired, that's all"
"Well, anyone would be after several nights of sleeping on the nursery floor."
She raised an eyebrow and you blushed. You hadn't been back to Julieta's room since that night, you just couldn't. You were so embarrassed by…everything, you didn't have the courage to face her, and when you managed to gather some courage, she was the one who ran away from you. So you had ended up playing this game of tag with each other, she would chase and you would run away, then you would chase and she would run away. It was tiring and it hurt that the friendship you had with the brunette had been reduced to that, but deep down you knew you didn't deserve more. Not when you'd left her teary-eyed in the middle of the night.
"Why don't you come with me, dear?" the matriarch asked you "I think there are things we need to discuss and you still owe me a game of chess"
She said it with a friendly smile on her face, but her tone let you know that it wasn't really a question. So you just nodded and obediently followed her. You just hoped that if she was going to kill you for hurting her daughter, she'd do it quickly.
__________________________
Julieta felt her blood boil and her nails were about to pierce her skin. She had been so hurt when you had left so quickly after what was for her the best time of her new life, and when you hadn't come back to sleep that night, or the next, or the night after, she was filled with fear.
This was exactly what she had feared so much, the reason she had been so reluctant to act on her feelings for you. She had scared you, she had made you uncomfortable, she had let the desire and love she felt for you cloud her better judgment and make her believe (foolishly) that you really could feel the same. She should have been content with what you offered her, with the beautiful friendship you had, but no, she had been greedy and now she had ruined everything and lost you.
The brunette thought that the first few days would be the most difficult, that running away from you or seeing you run away from her would be the worst, the thing that would break her heart the most. But fate just couldn't stop being cruel to her, and it showed her how wrong she was. As much as it hurt her to see you run from a room every time she entered, she could live with it, it was bearable. What really hurt her was seeing you go to others the same way you used to go to her.
But without a doubt, seeing you become closer to her mother was the worst of all. She knew she had no right to feel this fire burning inside her, but your little joke, from a time that now seemed so long ago, still haunted her mind and drove a stake through her heart every time she saw you smile conspiratorially or hug Alma like you once did with her. She didn't know if it was fear that you really had feelings for her mother (she refused to believe it, she was definitely TOO old for you) or pain at the thought that you might be replacing her.
Either way, she hated seeing you with her mother and hated, even more, the rush of jealousy that consumed her and the tears that formed in her eyes every time. She had to control herself, but her rage, helplessness, and sadness threatened to consume her.
“Clear skies, sister, clear skies”
Julieta jumped when she heard her sister's voice right behind her. She turned to find Pepa looking at her with concern, with a black cloud above her head and a very scared but just as worried Bruno behind her.
"I'm sorry" the older one said "I think I just need fresh air" she lied
"No, you don't" Pepa said, grabbing the brunette's arm to prevent her from running away "what you need is to stop running and let us help you"
"Pepa-"
“You can escape from her, Juli, but not from us. We are your siblings, we are triplets. When one suffers, so do the other two."
Julieta looked at the redhead for a moment before looking at Bruno. Her brother gave her a half-smile that meant he agreed with Pepa, but it also wasn't that he had a choice. They were going to have this conversation whether she liked it or not. The older one sighed in defeat.
“Okay but…not here” she muttered.
Pepa nodded and took her by the hand to prevent her from escaping, pulling her to her room, with Bruno following closely behind them. Julieta was grateful that Pepa's room was closer to the stairs because her legs weakened at the moment she heard her mother's voice calling you "dear" from inside her room.
_________________________________
When Alma had led you to her room, you hadn't expected that she would try to break the ice with soft jokes and compliments about how much you had improved since your last game of chess with her. You knew it wasn't entirely true and that she was letting you win some moves, but you appreciated the effort. At least you no longer felt like you had walked into the lion's den, but rather like you were with a good friend.
Until the matriarch wanted to discuss your plans about your land. You had already finished digging through the ashes and had rescued the 6 or 7 things that were still useful from what was once your entire life. Now it was time to decide what to do with the land. Perhaps at some point, you would have ended up convincing yourself that staying with the Madrigals would be best, but given the circumstances and your relationship (or lack thereof) with Julieta, you had told Dolores two days ago that you were thinking of selling your land and buy a smaller house, perhaps closer to town. You had been lying, of course, but you knew that soon you would have to start seriously planning your actions for when Karim woke up.
"Are you sure that's what you want?" Alma asked you "The offer is still up and will continue to stand"
"And I appreciate it" you said honestly "but I think it's best to start again"
“But you don't need to do it alone” she told you “Here you have people who have learned to love you, who will support you in any way. You can start over here."
"It's not that simple, Alma" you said
"Why not?" she asked with a raised eyebrow “do you want Eliza to grow up surrounded by love? We all love her here. Do you want independence? We are not going to prevent you from doing anything, we will only provide you with a space and a roof to live. There will be food, there will be warmth and love, here you have everything”
You looked at her for a moment. You knew that she was right and in fact, she just blew up any excuse you could think of. You really had everything you could possibly need here and you knew that anyone else would have taken the offer long ago, probably from the first time. The thing was that anyone else would not have to bear the burden of having kissed Alma Madrigal's eldest daughter.
The older woman saw the struggle in your eyes and decided to take pity on you, giving you that push in the right direction that you seemed to so badly need. She carefully took your chin to lift your face and make you look into her eyes.
“Tell me, Y/N, dear. What are you really running from?” she asked softly "What are you afraid of?"
You swallowed hard and felt your eyes fill with tears. At that time you felt like a little girl, a girl who needed her parents. But your parents had passed away when you and your brother were still very young and you had had to grow up quickly to take care of Karim. Now, there was a glimmer of motherly love in Alma's eyes, and you couldn't help but melt right there.
“I'm sorry” you sobbed “I didn't mean to…it just happened and I…ran away and hurt her. I didn’t want to do it"
Alma was surprised at your sudden crying, but she quickly reminded herself that she was allowed to show a more vulnerable and warmer side, especially with her family. And you were family, whether you realized it or not. The matriarch pulled you out of the chair and onto the floor in front of her, letting you lay your head on her lap. She didn't care that you were soaking her clothes. She just wanted to get to the bottom of this, to spare you and her daughter any more pain.
“Shhhh, it's fine dear” she told you, stroking your head “breathe and tell me what happened. I'm sure we can work it out."
You shook your head and continued to cry for a while, finding comfort in a motherly embrace that you had been deprived of for so long. The more she rubbed your back and said comforting words, the more your mind cleared. You had nothing to lose. Besides, if there was someone who could help you get Julieta back, it might be her mother.
"I kissed her" you sniffled, blushing deeply
"Who, dear?"
“...Julieta"
Alma gasped silently and her hand on your back froze for a moment. Now it made sense. The way the two of you would avoid each other, sending each other longing glances when the other wasn't looking. You looked away while your hearts begged to be together. This was not what the family would have thought would happen after your first kiss, so she could only assume that it had ended badly.
"And what happened?" she asked softly, rubbing your back again
“...I ran away” you said “I told her I had to see Karim and I left here there…it was the best moment of my life after the birth of my children and I just left! I left her there, like a coward! She will never forgive me" you sobbed
Now the sadness that Alma had seen in the eyes of her eldest daughter made sense.
_____________________________
"She did what?"
Julieta flinched as loud thunder rumbled above her head. By the time the door to her sister's room had closed behind them, the rain had fallen at the same time as her tears. Bruno had been the first to hug her. Growing up, she had been the one to keep her siblings' secrets, being that refuge where Pepa and Bruno knew they could find solace, but they were still triplets and her sister had been right when she said they shared a special bond because it wasn't difficult for her to let the words out of her mouth, despite the pain they brought her.
“She left” she repeated “she left without saying anything to me”
"I'm going to kill her" the redhead growled
“P-pepa-” Bruno tried
"No! I told her I would throw a lightning bolt at her if she made Julieta cry."
"B-but-"
"But nothing. I warned her about it and still she dared to hurt her. She left her in the kitchen, Bruno! You don't just leave the person you just kissed!!”
The man was about to say something when another loud sob from his older sister interrupted them. Julieta hugged herself and hid her head on her knees, rocking gently.
"What I am going to do?" she asked weakly "How do I get my friend back?"
"What? After what she did you still call her a friend?” Pepa frowned.
"I was the one who kissed her, Pepa" Julieta replied, raising her face "besides... I could never hate her... and we both know that you couldn't either"
The redhead wanted to argue, but as always, her sister was right. She didn't hate you, you had become a good friend, almost a little sister to her. But that didn't stop her from being upset with you. She sighed and sat down next to the eldest, hugging her from the side.
"Oh, Juli, I don't know what to say or what to do to see you happy" she admitted
"I wish we could erase your pain" Bruno tentatively added "heal you like you heal us"
Julieta simply hid her face in her knees again, letting her siblings hug her. How ironic isn't it? The healer couldn't heal herself and her foolish broken heart. Only you could make her feel better, only you could give her happiness back. But how do you ask a person to heal your heart when they broke it in the first place? And that wasn't even the worst part.
"She's leaving" she murmured suddenly
"What?"
“Y/N…she is leaving” the brunette repeated “I heard her tell Dolores that she planned to sell her land and buy a small house…she is leaving”
“Wait… after all this, did you still want her to stay?” Pepa asked, pushing her sister to force her to look into her eyes.
The redhead gasped as she couldn't find a trace of lies, or anger in her chocolate eyes, just pure love and deep sadness. Her older sister was heartbroken and she still preferred to have you here, knowing that it would be a torture to see you every day than to let you go and never see you again.
“God…you really love her” Pepa whispered.
It wasn't a question, but Julieta nodded anyway. She did, she had really fallen for you, and she was a masochist, because not seeing you seemed like a worse punishment than living with you knowing that her love was not reciprocated.
I've tried almost everything to convince you
As the world collapses at my feet
While I learn from this loneliness 
I wonder again, maybe I will survive
____________________________
You left Alma's room, carefully closing the door behind you. That had been a conversation you didn't know you needed. The woman was definitely scary when it came to defending her daughter, but she was also incredibly patient and understanding with you, and you honestly didn't know which one was scarier.
However, what you couldn't deny was that the older woman had opened your eyes. She had made you see reason. Yes, you made a mistake by running away like that, by not being clear with Julieta and letting her believe that you didn't feel the same way about her. But that didn't mean all was lost.
The first thing you had to do was collect your thoughts because you couldn't face the brunette with a divided mind or you could make everything worse. Alma had asked you if you really loved her daughter and it scared you the ease with which the yes came out of your lips. So the second thing was to be clear with her. You couldn't keep running out of fear.
“You have always been a brave woman, Y/N, I know you can do this” she had told you.
Easier said than done, but you'd be damned if you didn't at least try to get back on good terms with Julieta. No one said that love would be easy, but it was worth fighting for…right?
You were surprised when your friend walked out of Pepa's room and the two of you froze in place, just staring at each other. Alma had told you that you couldn't run away, and you would try not to, but at that moment you could see the brunette's puffy eyes, which told you that she had been crying and that it might not be the best time to have such a serious conversation. So you respected her silent decision as she looked at her door and then at you.
You nodded gently and gave her a tentative little smile before moving quickly to let her follow her path to her refuge. As you walked to the nursery, you didn't notice how her eyes followed you and her soul begged you to turn around, to come back to her.
I would leave everything so you would stay
My creed, my past, my religion
After all, you're breaking our ties
And you leave this heart in pieces
Julieta closed the door behind her and leaned into it, sliding off to sit on the floor. She had sore eyes, a tired heart, and a pending conversation.
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Julieta tags: @emril-osvigne @smolgayhooman @cryptocry @arination99 @kitthedino
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thebatfamfanatic · 3 years
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Six Times He Met Her
Jason Todd x Fem!Reader
Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, guy taking advantage of a minor in first chap, mention of underage smut in fourth chap, making out?, violence, mentions of blood/injury, main character death, adult language, angst
A/N: First thing I’ve written on Tumblr!! Tell me if anybody likes it, or if I broke your heart. And yes, I know I’m evil.
1-
The first time he saw you was around 2:30 in the morning. Jason was squatting on the edge of a rooftop in Gotham, surveying the dark scenery below him.
Somehow, there was still plenty of traffic on the dirty streets, plenty of cars honking and driving around. Jason always wondered who the fuck needed to be somewhere at 2 am.
He fiddled with a loose seam on the Robin uniform he sported each night, hunting down the assholes of Gotham (pretty much 70% of the city) and putting them in jail, where they belonged.
At 16, Jason Todd technically should have been in bed, maintaining a healthy sleep schedule and doing some rich kid shit during the day. Of course, his adoptive (long story) father, Bruce Wayne, richest playboy in Gotham, employed him to be his little tweety bird sidekick at night, so here he was, at the rendezvous watching the streets. yay. A scream came from an alley nearby. Jason stood, stretched his legs, and leaped down from the roof onto the ground. He pinpointed the alleyway where the noise was coming from and raced into it. A girl, about his age, had been cornered by some bitch dude who thought he could take advantage of this girl. Not on Robin’s watch.
Before the girl could scream again, the guy was on the ground and Jason was helping her up. She shakily took the hand he offered her and looked him in the eye. Shit, she had gorgeous eyes. Jason froze for a second, lost in her beauty, before clearing in his throat.
“Hi. I’m Robin, uh, you probably knew that. Are you okay, ma’am?”
He hated the squeak that came out of his mouth. He sounded like a fucking 5 year old. The girl raised her eyebrow. She had recovered rather quickly. “You don’t have to call me ma’am. I’m not some rich-ass royal whatever from Britain.” Jason liked this one. Sassy, but just so. He inquired where she lived, and she gave him the address. With his grappling hook at the ready, Jason pulled her closer to him. She jumped at the sudden closeness, but seemed to enjoy it. Maybe? He didn’t know shit about girls.
Jason shot the hook, propelling them up in the air, and landed on a rooftop. They continued this routine until he got in front of her house. It was still several seconds before he released her waist.
She started to walk towards her door, before stopping.
“Y/N. Y/N Y/L/N.”
“Sorry, what?” Jason blinked.
“I thought you were smart, Robin. Its my name, dumb ass.”
Then Y/N disappeared into her house. Jason stood there foolishly outside on her front lawn for a while, thinking about the girl he had just met. She was unlike anyone he had ever met, and he realized 10 minutes later that he had forgotten to ask about where her family was and everything.
Oh well. Bruce would be expecting him anyways. Jason shot his grappling hook and started home, still dazed from the encounter.
2-
The second time you guys met was two weeks later. Jason was just Jason Todd, a normal 10th grader living in the shadow of his (adopted) older brother Dick Grayson. Nobody paid much attention to him, and he didn’t really mind. Mostly Jason focused on getting A’s in class and then retreating into the library until Golden Boy’s after school clubs were over.
That is, until you walked in. It sounded as if you had just moved here, and for a minute, Jason felt a little sorry for you. I mean, Gotham wasn’t the greatest place to spend high school, or any grade, in his opinion.
You looked at your schedule from across the hall and then up at the locker next to him. For a second, your eyes met his and Jason was content. Lost in those brilliant colors. And then you looked away and started walking towards him. He realized just in time maybe he should stop leaning over your locker as you stopped next to him.
“Hi. Y/N. Just moved here. Looks like we’re locker neighbors.”
Jason was about to reply with “I know” but restrained himself. “Jason. Nice to meet you. Congrats on moving to this shitshow.”
He managed to not grin like an idiot as you laughed. The sound was music to his ears, like beautiful bells. God, he was being sappy.
“It’s not much of a shitshow when you’re here.” Ooh, she flirts too. Jason smirked as you opened your locker and dumped your stuff inside, pulling out the things you needed for your first class.
The first bell shrieked just as you closed your locker. “See you around, Jason.”
The small smile you gave him made his day, and he almost forgot to get to class. Yes, you were certainly one of a kind, and yes, Jason wanted you. The question was how to get to that point.
3-
You guys had a couple classes together, and frequently sat at the same table during lunch, so it wasn’t long before you were quick friends with Jason. However, the next notable time you met was a little while after he got your number.
Jason was laying on his bed, scrolling mindlessly through Tumblr as he thought about ways to ask you out.
Y/N, would you grant me the honor of going out with me? No, too Romeo and Juliet.
Hey, want to grab ice cream? He had to make it clear what his intentions were. Then it wouldn’t be weird if he kissed you, right?
Oh, god, if he fucking kissed you….what would that be like? Before Jason could start fantasizing, his fingers were flying across the keyboard and he had sent a text to you. What did he do, what did he-
Hey, I was wondering if you’d like to see that new movie this weekend. It seems like something you would enjoy.
Hm. That was actually pretty good. Where did he come up with that?
Jason had just started inspecting his fingers for some kind of sign of being possessed by smooth-with-girls-syndrome when you responded. He looked up and read it quickly.
Sure, I’d love that! Thanks for thinking of me ❤️
A heart. You had put a heart at the end of it. Did that mean you knew it was a date?
Jason sighed. He certainly hoped so.
4-
The weekend date went good. By the end of it, Jason was sure you knew it was a date. The second one passed, and then the third. The third one was when you hesitantly pecked him on the cheek. The fourth was when he kissed you actually. It wasn’t a long kiss, but it was just enough for him to take you on a fourth date. An actual “will you go out with me on a date” kind of thing.
He took you to a restaurant in the fancy part of things. You two ate food that two broke 16 year olds technically shouldn’t have been able to afford, but Bruce helped Jason out.
Jason drove you home afterwards and discussed the topic of the upcoming summer during the car ride. What you were doing, where he was going. The entire time, Jason had butterflies in his stomach. He wasn’t sure how to act. Was he messing it all up, or were you actually into him?
Once he parked in front of your house and walked you up to the stoop, you looked at him. He noticed you were biting your lip nervously, and god, why did he think that was so hot? “My parents aren’t home.” It was the softest Jason had ever heard you speak, but he knew what you meant. He smiled gently, and kissed you again. This one was destined to last longer, and before either of you realized it, you had opened your door and you were leading him to your bedroom.
That night was one neither of you would forget, and by the end of it, Jason had officially asked out successfully.
5-
You and Jason spent a lot of time together after that. You met his older brother, Dick (who was very happy for Jason, too happy in his opinion) and his dad, Bruce Wayne. Bruce was cool, but very busy all the time.
By two months, Jason still hadn’t told you his identity as Robin, and he was running out of excuses. One day, you confronted him, assuming he was cheating on you. He tried everything, but he had to go out on patrol.
Jason left that night assuming you were broken up. The entire patrol, he wasn’t himself. Truth was, he loved you so much he was afraid of losing you. That had become his greatest fear. It was that night everything went wrong.
6-
You were out taking a late night walk. Down by the pier, a cold wind was blowing, and as you walked past warehouse after warehouse, you pulled your coat tighter.
You were affected as well, and confused about where you and your boyfriend stood. Did you guys just breakup? Did he love you? Did–
A scream echoed from one of the warehouses. You turned, afraid of stepping closer but afraid of leaving the person. Eventually, your curiosity won over and you climbed up several crates to peer into the window.
What you saw inside almost made you scream yourself. Robin, the hero everybody talked about, lay defenseless and bloody on the ground as a tall man-the Joker- whacked him over and over again with a crowbar.
You gasped, wanting to help, but you knew that would be foolish. You would just get in the way for a minute. Tears started to form in your eyes as Robin weakly cried out from the pain. He looked so…helpless.
Joker relentlessly beat him with the crowbar, and Robin’s mask began to come off. You rubbed the tears from your eyes just as the mask fell to the ground.
“No.” was the only thing that you could muster. Jason lay on the ground in the bloody Robin suit. Jason fucking Todd. There was your boyfriend, being beaten to death by the asshole of all assholes. That was why he kept disappearing at night, because he fucking protected the city!
You were mad at yourself for being so cruel to Jason without knowing what was really going on. You barely paid attention as Batman and Nightwing suddenly burst through the windows.
Joker laughed, and said something you couldn’t hear from the outside. Probably taunting Batman as he watched his apprentice get beat to death.
A fight broke out, Batman lunging at Joker as Nightwing rushed to Jason, laying broken on the ground. You had just enough time to duck as a Batarang came swooping out of the hands of the Caped Crusader and straight through the window you were looking through.
It was then you realized how close Jason was to death, and what you needed to do. The window pricked your jacket as you jumped through it, but you didn’t care. Gymnastics back in 6th grade helped when you landed awkwardly. Nightwing spun around, and it wasn’t hard to figure out that was Dick, which meant Bruce was Batman.
However, none of that mattered when Jason was half dead in front of you. Nightwing- Dick- made no effort to stop you as you knelt in front of Jason. “No, no, no.” You cradled his head in your hands, trying hard not to recognize how limp his body was, and how his chest barely moved as he struggled to breathe.
Jason’s eyes were closed, tears running down his face silently. You were crying as well, mumbling curses and things that made no sense.
“Please, don’t be dead. Please, I-I love you.”
You watched Jason make no acknowledgement he could hear you, watched him breathe once more. His chest rose and never fell.
You screamed and buried your head in his costume, not caring about getting blood on your face. Dick pulled you away wordlessly, out of the warehouse. You barely registered that the warehouse exploded behind you a few seconds later.
Dick let you sob into his shoulder for what seemed like hours. Him and Bruce exchanged a short conversation, both riddled with grief.
Six times you and Jason had met, and that was the last.
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swanimagines · 3 years
Note
For the Freddy Carter event,
Can I request a imagine with the prompt “Look, I know we don’t know each other very well, but I’m still worried about you. No one deserves to be alone,” with Kaz Brekker?
By the way, your writing is beautiful! You’re so talented <3
Thank you so much for your compliments and support 💞 This kinda bases itself to the time before Inej or Jesper, but Kaz still isn't a very young anymore. Kinda like an AU where they either don't exist or will come into the picture later?
Also I know I said no dialogues for the event but this immediately ignited an idea so.
FREDDY EVENT, send in requests for any of Freddy Carter’s characters!! (Other requests are open too, but they go to my normal to-do list which I’m not able to start doing til March at earliest)
Warnings: kind of angsty, but kinda also hurt/comfort, mentions of alcohol consumption
Word count: 722
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It was a stormy day at Ketterdam today, unbelievably windy paired with freezing rain. Most people were inside in their houses, but Kaz had stubbornly made his way to the club to do some paperwork, where he found you to be sweeping the floors. And now, you were waiting for the storm to pass, sitting at the bar counter with a bottle of kvas beside you, but you hadn't even finished the first glass during this whole hour, barely even talking.
"Can I ask you something?" you suddenly blurted out, and Kaz slowly nodded. "Um... you have seemed... different this week. It looks like sadness and... if you want to talk about-"
He stiffened suddenly and clenched his jaw, and you muttered a quiet "sorry" in fear he'd bark at you. You sat in silence for a moment more, before Kaz took in a deep sigh.
"It's... nothing. You imagine things," he said, his brows furrowed and the leather in his gloves creaked when his hands shifted.
Maybe you should have known better, but you still decided to ask more. "Okay, I understand. Do you have any friends to talk to? Someone you trust?"
"No. I don't have friends. It's better to be alone. I learned that the hard way." Kaz rasped out, sighing as he turned the glass in his hands.
You cocked your head. "What do you mean?"
He didn't answer, just staring at the glass in front of him. On that moment, you kind of hoped to get inside his head and see what he was thinking, but on the other hand... you weren't sure if you really wanted to know.
“Look, I know we don’t know each other very well, but I’m still worried about you. No one deserves to be alone,” you then quietly said, still being met by silence. It was strange sitting at the empty club, the walls creaking slightly in the wind. You sitting with Dirtyhands himself by the bar counter, foolishly hoping he would open up his heart to you.
You were known to solve problems, being a part-time therapist within the Dregs. You liked to help people and had this ability to get people open up about their problems. But Kaz Brekker was a tougher nut than most, you had sat there for an hour, Kaz still had the same drink he poured to himself when he sat down with you.
But at least he hadn't left. If he felt uncomfortable or frustrated on someone, he'd leave. That was a good sign, at least you believed so.
"You don't have to talk if you don't want to," you softly told him when silence had continued for several minutes and you were sure he wouldn't open his mouth at all. "But I want you to know that I can listen if you ever want to talk about anything."
Kaz nodded slowly again, maybe not even noticing it, but he nodded, and you offered him a soft smile as you stood up and returned to cleaning the place up for tomorrow.
You had been right though - Kaz was sad. He just thought he had hidden it well, but your observant eye probably didn't miss anything.
It was the anniversary of his rebirth. When the old Kaz died with his brother. He would have thought that after all these years, he would learn to forget that night, get over his nightmares and traumas - the little Kaz Rietveld abandoned completely. But Brekker was still reminded about him and his brother every time his skin brushed against someone else's skin, demons in his sleep and as ghosts whenever he saw those stairs he had stumbled up after making it out from the Reaper's Barge. He avoided looking at those stairs, and fortunately he hadn't had to look at them either - it wasn't like he'd want to go on a morning swim sometime.
Maybe someday he'd get rid of Rietveld. Maybe he'd even use your help for it - but it would be a long way to get to that. He hadn't even talked to you properly after hiring you, but you still had an aura around you which made him want to trust you... and it oddly gave him hope. Even when hope was dangerous.
Maybe it would get better eventually, and he'd get rid of his demons.
---
FREDDY EVENT, send in requests for any of Freddy Carter’s characters!! (Other requests are open too, but they go to my normal to-do list which I’m not able to start doing til March at earliest)
Kaz's tags for the Freddy event: @scandalous-chaos @brekkers-desigirl
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xoxo-teddybear · 3 years
Text
Birthday Bummer - Bakugou Katsuki
Bakugou x f!reader
Warnings: Angst, Cursing, Fluff, cheating accusations, jealous Katsuki
Summary: You love your boyfriend! You do! And he loves you! However he’s always busy. You understand being a pro can be very occupational but when he does have days off, he spends them either training to doing some paper work. Doing everything he can to get ahead, and you of course support him! But sometimes you miss him and sometimes he misses..a lot
BAKUGOU’S MASTERLIST
“Oh? You’re not gonna be able to make it again?” You said with sadness laced in your voice. The phone in your hand felt like led in your shaking palm as you spoke to your boyfriend.
“Yeah. I’m so sorry Teddy Bear. Endeavor won’t let me off especially with all the damaged I caused during our last battle.” He explained. Your lip began to quiver but you bit it to hide your expression.
“It’s fine, Suki. Really. I understand, you’re a hero and you’re busy. Don’t worry about it, Love.” You said with a reassuring tone.
“Are you already at the restaurant?” He asked with worry.
“No, I didn’t even leave the house yet. I was still getting ready. I was actually gonna text you to tell you I was gonna be a little late, but..yeah.” You said. Bakugou sighed in sadness.
“I’m so sorry. I promise I’ll make it up to you baby.” Another empty promise. You licked your lips at his words and gave a disappointed sigh.
“Ok.” You replied.
“I love you.” He sweetly said.
“I love you too.”
“Bye Y/N!” Kirishima said from the other side of the phone.
“Shitty Hair said ‘bye’” Bakugou said, relaying the message.
“Heh, bye Kiri.” You said and hung up. You placed the phone down on the table and bounced your leg up and down as you let your head rest in your hand.
Of course. Like usual, Katsuki blew you off again for work. It’s not like it’s his fault but he never seems to turn his agency down. You understand that being a hero requires diligent work and good ethics but your boyfriend would always drop everything for work whenever, wherever. That includes you.
“Excuse me, Miss?”
You looked up to the man who was dressed in a clean suit with a white apron. “Would you like anything else?”
“Ha, I mean..unless you can get my date here, then just the check.” You joked. The kind waiter placed an understanding hand on your shoulder before placing down the bill. You sipped from your champagne glass and payed before grabbing your purse and walking out of the fancy restaurant. Maybe if your boyfriend were here, you would be getting in his car with him to go home, but instead, you were driving your own and sitting by yourself. You began your drive home to the empty house.
The usual. Katsuki blows you off for work, tries to make it up to you with something special, fails to show up for that, repeat cycle. This time..it was different though. It was supposed to be your special day. It was your birthday.
You hoped he would’ve remembered. I mean, it’s not like this was your first birthday with him. This was going to be your 4th birthday with him! And he forgot! And you would’ve let it slide had it not been for the fact that he had been blowing you off more and more for work. You understand he’s a pro and you get that with the sudden splurge of crime in Musutafu he’s been way busier but he didn’t even spare you a little “Happy Birthday, babe.”
As you pulled into the driveway, you looked at the doorway and saw an edible arrangement! Your eyes lit up as you ran out the car and went to examine the gift. Unfortunately, as you read the gift card, you saw it was from Mina and not Katsuki. You smiled nonetheless, appreciative of the gift.
You brought it in and enjoyed the sweet treats in the basket with a sad smile. You left it on the dining table along with all the other gifts. A beautiful set of rings, a new dress, a heart holding teddy bear, and a bouquet of roses from your father. You were always a daddy’s girl. You and your father were extremely close and only grew closer once you lost your mother. Growing up an only child, your father was your best friend. You loved him dearly. As you examined the flowers, you couldn’t help but notice his note that put a smile on your face.
Hello my Sweet Angel, Y/N. It’s been another year of you being in my life and I couldn’t be happier to have been blessed with you. I hope these roses will suffice but I know they pale in comparison to your beauty. I hope you enjoy this marvelous day and I’m sorry I couldn’t be there to spend it with you as we usually do. I love you Y/N
-Daddy
You called your father to thank him for the roses and to have a conversation with him. You hadn’t talked to many people today despite it being your birthday so talking to one of your favorite people should bring your mood to a better place.
“Alright, I should get going now. It’s pretty late and you need your rest.” You reminded your father.
“Of course dear. Have a nice night, goodnight sweetie.”
“Okay, goodnight Daddy!” You chirped.
“Goodnight!”
You enjoyed speaking to your father and you definitely did feel your mood brighten until you noticed a text from Katsuki. You foolishly hoped it was a last minute birthday mention but of course you were wrong.
‘I’ll be home soon, princess. Mind getting dinner started? Thanks <3’
You could only sigh and feel your mood drop once more.
Afterwards, you chose to ignore his request and went to your shared bedroom. You stripped out of your gorgeous outfit and took off your makeup that you spent hours on. You hoped Katsuki would’ve gotten to see you all dolled up for your special day but things happen..you guess. You ran a hot bath for yourself and filled it with all types of scented bath salts, soaps, and flower petals. You lit a few candles and set them up all pretty around the tub and hopped in, relishing in the warmth that wrapped around you. All you wanted to do was forget about today.
Bakugou walked through the door exhausted from the day’s work. He took a shower at the agency and was all set and dressed in a comfy tee and a pair of sweats. He dropped his case at the door and walked in, expecting dinner for him on the island, but instead was met with a bunch of gifts. He stood shocked but chuckled to himself at the thought of you doing such a nice thing for him out of nowhere. He guesses that this was better than dinner.
He walked to the gifts and examined them. An edible arrangement that seemed to be eaten? Rings that were obviously for a woman? A dress? Okay, by now he realized that these gift must’ve been for you but for what? He continued to look through the gifts and noticed the lovey dovey Teddy Bear and bouquet. He grew a little irked at the gifts that one would deem romantic but what really sent it was the note. The words made his blood boil and when he saw the note was signed “Daddy,” he exploded.
“Is she…” as Bakugou thought about it, he came to the conclusion that you must’ve been cheating on him with some sugar daddy. The gifts, the dress, the rings, the note?! It gave him all the signs. In a raging fit, he took the basket and slammed it to the floor. He ripped apart the Teddy Bear, tossed the rings, singed the dress, and stomped on the beautiful roses. Finally, he made his way to search for you as he spoke to himself. “Oh that cheating fucking bitch.”
You were all set with your bath and had already dried your hair. You were dressed in your favorite silk set as you laid on the king sized bed. Suddenly, the door busted open and your boyfriend walked through the door, and he was pissed.
“Katsuki! The door!” You exclaimed before Bakugou made his way over to you.
“Am I not enough for you?!” He screamed. You looked at him in silent confusion and your pause urged him to continue. “What?! Do I not make enough money to your liking?! Well sorry if I can’t fucking spoil you! I just thought you would’ve appreciated my fucking efforts a little damn more considering you don’t have to work at all!”
“Katsuki, what the hell are you talking about?” You questioned, sitting up a little straighter.
“I’m talking about you fucking cheating on me! You think I wouldn’t notice all the fucking gifts you got for spreading your legs for some rich bastard?!” He asked and threw your gifted dress on your lap. You looked at it in shock as you ran your fingers across the singes. “Why don’t you take that fucking dress and the rest of your stupid gifts, and get the fuck out of this ho-“
Without letting him finish, you pushed his chest away and ran downstairs to the island. You set your eyes on the island and you stopped in your tracks, covering your open mouth with your hands in shock. Bakugou followed you down the stairs so he could see your reaction to having your gifts ruined, thinking it was exactly what you deserved for “cheating.”
“No, no, no!” You said an ran to the scattered gifts, trying to collect them as best as you could. Tears fell down your face as you looked at all the broken pieces in your hand. It wasn’t that you cared about receiving gifts, it was that these gifts were from people who cared enough to remember the day you came into this world. A day your own boyfriend couldn’t even remember this year. You found the crushed bouquet and held it against your chest. A gift from your dear father, ruined.
“What is wrong with you?” You tearfully asked the blonde behind you. You stood on your feet as he smirked at you with crossed arms and scoffed.
“What’s wrong with you? Fucking cheating on me with some sugar daddy?! And don’t even try to lie your way out of this shit, I read the fucking card.” He stated. You gawked at him in confusion and looked around as if he was crazy.
“The bouquet was from my father, Bakugou! Not my fucking sugar daddy! I don’t fucking have one, you prick!” Your words made Bakugou’s eyes pop as his arms uncrossed and slowly fell to his sides.
“W-What?” He asked.
“My father! The roses were from my father! The edible arrangement was from Mina, the rings were from Momo, the teddy bear was from Kirishima, and the dress was from Jirou! They gave me these gifts because it’s my birthday! Remember?!”
Bakugou immediately felt guilt build up in his chest. A little relief with that fact that you weren’t cheating, but immediate guilt for accusing you of doing so, telling you to leave, breaking your gifts, and forgetting your birthday.
“Y-Y/N I-“
“Save it Bakugou. You want me to leave so bad? Then I’ll go.” With that, you slammed the destroyed flowers into his chest and ran to the bedroom to change and pack a small bag with Bakugou following your trail.
“Y/N! No, wait!” He shouted and chased after you. Before he could grab hold of you, you made it into the room and slammed the door in his face before locking it. “Baby! C’mon, open the door! I’m sorry!”
“Leave me alone!” You said as you changed.
“No! Baby, I’m sorry. I’m sorry I forgot your birthday, I’m sorry I accused you of cheating, I’m sorry I ruined your special day. Please just let me in to fix this!” He begged. You finally opened the door with an angry look. “Baby! Thank go-“
“You can’t fix this, Bakugou!” You said with tears poking at the ends of your eyes. His heart began to ache when he noticed them and the bag you carried. Not only that but ever since you started calling him Bakugou again, he felt weak.
“Baby..it’s Katsuki.” He said trying to reach out for you but you snatched your hand away.
“Don’t call me that and as of right now, no it’s not!” You tried to walk away but Bakugou grabbed onto your waist to stop you.
“Y/N, stop, please. Look, you don’t have to go, just stay here and we can talk about this. Please we don’t even have to talk, just stay here. I’ll sleep in the guest room just don’t go, please.” He pleaded with soft tears. You bit your lip before calming down and speaking to him.
“Katsuki, I can’t be around you right now.” You said with a broken voice. “I just need some space…please.”
Katsuki still refused to let you go and so you stood there for what felt like forever. Eventually, you felt his hold weaken and so you pulled his arms off before walking away. Bakugou quietly followed you to the exit and before you left, Bakugou grabbed your wrist.
“I’m sorry. Please..let me fix this.” He said with tears running down his eyes. You froze before going in to make a move. You sighed and placed your hands on his face and wiped away his tears with your thumb. Bakugou took the opportunity to hold you in his arms once more as he leaned in to your touch. You pulled his face in and pecked his cheek before placing your hand on the knob once more.
“We’ll talk when I get back.” You softly said. You didn’t bother to see his response before you shut the door and got in your car to drive away.
Talk about a birthday bummer.
A/N: UGH, HORRIBLE ENDING
Tag list: @sxcker4you @aomi04 @tessabrown101
650 notes · View notes
ot7always · 4 years
Text
Ignorantly, Yours
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Word Count: 10.6k
Pairing: Alpha!Jimin x Omega!Reader
Genre: Wolf!AU, Best Friends to Lovers!AU; fluff, smut, angst
Warnings: dom!Jimin, sub!reader, A/B/O dynamics, heat sex, fingering, unprotected sex, dirty talk (including a bit of possessiveness), marking, creampie, hair pulling, degradation, praise, rough sex, multiple orgasms
Rating: 18+
Summary:  You never could have expected your best friend to show up at your apartment right as you were about to go into heat, but when he did, something in you just wouldn’t let him go.
A/N: Truly, this was never supposed to be more than drabble. Which truly became a nuisance once it grew a lot and I had to go back and change a lot of things during editing. This is my first fic with some sort of supernatural element to it, and I had a lot of fun! I hope you guys enjoy, and please let me know what you think!
Reposted without the header gif and without any links or taglist. Sorry for any inconvenience if you were already looking at the first post. I will reblog with the taglist shortly.
--
Maybe it should have been embarrassing.
Maybe it was, 5 years ago when the habit first started.
5 years ago, when you’d had your first pre-heat. When the world had quickly become too overwhelming, your nose unused to the myriad of scents that assaulted you in your sensitivity. Your skin feeling so raw that even the clothes on your back felt uncomfortable.
It was then, in your childhood bedroom, amidst everything else, you recognized a scent that accompanied you through your life for as long as you could remember. A scent that felt like home, felt like warm days under the sun and shared laughter under blankets at midnight.
Your nose had led you to the bottom drawer of your dresser, your hands digging through the mess of fabric there until you pulled out an orange hoodie. You didn’t remember ever having it, and it looked small enough to have been from years ago – maybe even from before he presented.
But as you pulled it out of that drawer, the scent that might have been faint to you any other day filled your nostrils. A blueberry and pine scent that left you feeling calmer instantly, safer. Whether that had to do more with your friendship or his alpha status wasn’t a thought that crossed your mind. All you knew at the time was that it made everything better – he made everything better, even when he wasn’t there.
That marked the first time you laid in your bed, curling yourself around that small piece of comfort, your face shoved into the soft fabric. The peace that washed over you then was addicting, and any thought of giving up that feeling was unfathomable.
And if Jimin noticed how you were covered in his own scent when he saw you after every heat since that day, he didn’t say a thing.
--
You missed him a lot.
It wasn’t as though his university was that far away, and you should have grown used to it after several years of living apart for most of the year. Weekend visits were hardly enough when you’d spent more time together than apart growing up.
It definitely didn’t feel like enough when you were lying in bed, surrounded by the products of your skillful swiping over the years during Jimin’s visits. Hoodies, t-shirts – you had at least a dozen by now. All of which were tossed across your bed alongside you, your upper body already clad in one of his oversized hoodies.
When your pre-heat started affecting you yesterday, you’d already emailed your professors to tell them you wouldn’t be able to make it to class for the week. They, of course, understood – every university accommodated for their students to get a week off about every 3 months for this exact reason.
You were already overcome by exhaustion, Jimin’s scent wafting around the room lulling you into a sleepy daze.
It was common for an omega to nest amongst an alpha’s scent before their heat, though said alpha would typically be their partner.
It wasn’t something you liked to think on very often. Something like this couldn’t be that uncommon, right? After all, he was your first friend, and that went beyond being an alpha or omega. Besides, if it bothered him, wouldn’t he have already called you out for it by now? Wouldn’t he have said something when he realized that even when you’d started spending every heat with an alpha, his scent was still somewhere in there?
You tried not to worry too much about it. It didn’t matter, anyway.
Based on how you were feeling, you knew your heat would probably be here within 2 or 3 days. Which meant you should probably call someone soon to ask them to help you through it. It was normal practice to ask a friend to help you with your heat, but it was a line you’d never crossed with Jimin. Rejection was never something you dealt with well, and you were too afraid to put him, of all people, in that position. Knowing him, he would agree even if he didn’t want to.
Who, then? Namjoon? Hoseok? Both have agreed before, though the notion of crossing your room to pick up the phone you’d so foolishly left on the dresser was severely unappealing.
Instead, you let your eyes flutter shut, your face nuzzling into a blue and red scarf Jimin had forgotten at your apartment last winter. As the tranquility washed over you, your mind drifted closer and closer to sleep, warm and cozy and surrounded by Jimin’s scent.
Until the doorbell rang through your apartment.
At first you elected to ignore it, hoping whoever it was would get the hint and go away. But when it sounded out 2 more times after you hadn’t moved in several minutes, you groaned.
Wasn’t it bad etiquette to do this to someone? Surely that had to be written in a handbook somewhere.
With heavy limbs, you dragged yourself out of bed, flipping the hood up on your (well, Jimin’s) hoodie. As much as it may have been a bad idea to answer the door by yourself in pre-heat, your scent enveloped by an alpha’s would be enough to ward off unwanted advances. Though there were definitely bad people in the world, it took a truly insane person to go after an omega scented by an alpha.
When you made it to the door, you took a deep breath, preparing yourself to ream out whoever was on the other side. While you could sense someone’s presence there, every apartment was insulated, scent-wise, for protection. You didn’t know what to expect.
But of every possibility, when you opened the door, you didn’t expect to get assaulted by the very scent you’d been basking in only minutes ago. You didn’t notice how his eyes widened or how his pupils dilated when your scent hit him, too preoccupied by your body’s visceral reaction.
The full force of his scent almost had your knees buckling, your eyelids growing heavier as every single part of you instinctively yearned to curl up into him. Maybe your heat was closer than you thought.
When you were finally able to focus your eyes on him, his teeth were biting into his bottom lip, the hand holding an overnight bag clenched so hard his knuckles were white.
You didn’t give him the chance to say anything before you were stumbling forward, colliding messily with him, only focused on getting as close to him as possible.
You barely heard a mumbled ‘shit,’ not registering that he backed you into your apartment until you heard the door slam, his bag hitting the floor.
“Jimin,” you mumbled, your hands grasping at his shirt, eyes closed as you shoved your face into his neck, sighing happily when you were finally as close to the source of your happiness as possible.
But much to your discontent, he pushed you from him, keeping you an arms’ length away. The whimper you let out in response sounded pathetic even to your own ears, but every cell in your body was screaming to get as close to him as possible.
“Y/N,” he said firmly, the unusual hardness in his tone snapping you out of your daze slightly, wide eyes fixing onto his face. He audibly gulped at the glazed look in your eyes, before continuing. “You’re in heat.”
“I’m not,” you whined, trying to push against his hands, but he was stronger than you were.
“You will be,” he responded, letting out an incredulous sigh. “Fuck. I meant to surprise you but I forgot what the date was, I’m so sorry.”
“But I’m not yet,” you complained, changing tactics and instead aiming to shove your nose into the wrists near your shoulders. When your hair swished with your movement, sending a whiff of shampoo and your scent Jimin’s way, he groaned loudly.
“God, I can’t be here, I should go,” he said through gritted teeth. But when he started leaning down to pick his bag back up, you panicked.
“NO!” you yelled, launching yourself at him with your whole weight, not at all concerned about how he stumbled back in surprise. Your hands gripping onto his waist, you looked at him with wide eyes, your irises barely visible around the black of your dilated pupils. “Please don’t leave.”
His composure visibly cracked at the desperation on your face, but the sensation of your hands trembling in their grip on him brought him back to reality. “I can’t stay, I know that you know that-”
“Why?” you cried, your bottom lip trembling. The logical part of you deep inside knew you were being unreasonable, but even that part of you was a slave to instinct. All you knew was that Jimin got you through every pre-heat, and here Jimin was in front of you now. He’d never seen you like this, not ever in the last 5 years. And now that he has, nothing has ever been more unappealing than the thought of him walking out your front door.
He was very clearly taking shallow breaths, eventually bringing his own wrist to his nose to try to drown out everything else. Based on the low grunt he let out, it didn’t seem to be working very well.
“You smell like you’re going to go into heat at any moment, fuck, I can’t,” he panted, every part of him resisting the urge to grab you and scent you until there was absolutely no question whether you were his.
Except you weren’t his.
“I-I...” he stuttered, the scent of you not only clinging to him, but everywhere throughout the apartment occupying every part of his brain. “I need to go, I’ll call someone for you, Hoseok or-”
But that was definitely the wrong thing to say, because you sprung back from him as though you’ve been burned. When you looked at him as though he’d betrayed you, he knew he’d messed up.
“Why? You’re already here,” you spat out. “Don’t go,” you finished in a much weaker voice, pleading gaze fixing onto his.
A flash of pain went through him when he saw you hug yourself around the middle, as though to appear smaller. As though to protect yourself. From him.
“You don’t know what you’re asking of me.”
“I know exactly what I’m asking of you!” you wailed, the space between you feeling wider than it’s ever been.
“I can’t,” he repeated, a tinge of desperation making its way into his tone. Why was this so hard? From what he knew about omega heats and pre-heats, without a partner or relationship you shouldn’t have cared this much about which alpha stayed with you.
“Aren’t we friends? Can’t you just stay?” you begged, eyes brimming with unshed tears. Something about him trying to leave felt like a hole was being ripped through your chest, even if you’d understand why any other day.
“Of course we’re friends,” he said incredulously, a conflicted expression on his face. He knew exactly what you meant, exactly what was implied within that statement. When something like desire crossed his gaze, you felt a dash of hope bloom within you. “But...”
And it was crushed just like that. “Why don’t you want me when I want you? What’s wrong with me?” you sobbed, the tears finally spilling from your eyes as you dropped to your knees.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
The smell of an omega in distress was always something that set off an alpha’s protective instinct.
But the knowledge that he was the one who caused it brought forth an ugly wrenching in his gut.
For all the required readings Jimin had done in the course of his life, nothing had ever taught him what to do when the girl you’re secretly in love with was on the floor crying because you refused to fuck her through her heat.
It wasn’t that he didn’t want to. God, did he want to.
But you weren’t there begging for his heart or his love or his devotion – you were begging for his body. Which wasn’t the problem. It wasn’t that he was offended. The problem was that he wanted more than this, and that right now was most definitely not the time to have that conversation.
And it’s not that he didn’t think you knew what you wanted. He knew you knew that you were asking for sex, but he also knew that was all you were asking for. Pre-heat was about preparing for sex, not romance.
As much as a heat could completely fog an omega’s brain, in pre-heat they could still make coherent decisions. It was typically a time spent preparing for heat, a time to call an alpha or to prepare for the much more painful option of suffering alone. They were typically in a perpetual state of exhaustion, bodies crying out for sleep to save up energy for their heat.
But more importantly, it was a time where omegas were at their most emotionally vulnerable, where they gave in to instinct. A time where they surrounded themselves in the things that made them feel safest, most at home.
He knew – he knew you used his scent to get through your pre-heat, but he never thought it meant that much. You were his oldest friend, and the fact that you found comfort in his scent was never something he questioned. He was an alpha, and you scented each other often – it made sense from a biology standpoint.
And – oh.
It hit him then that this was more than an alpha’s refusal to help their friend through their heat. This was more than a refusal for sex.
This was your biggest security blanket pushing you away at your most vulnerable, the person you trusted most to keep you safe leaving you when you were begging him to stay.
He really, really fucked up by coming here.
He should have checked the dates properly in the first place, and now he’d have to deal with the consequences. There was an unbelievably high chance that if he walked out that door, you’d have a breakdown, and he couldn’t just break your heart by leaving now.
Even if it ended up breaking his own. Even if you ended up thinking nothing of it, and he would never be able to erase the memory from his brain.
Because you were begging him to stay out of instinct, out of need. Not out of love. Not that he knew of, not the kind he wanted, at least.
But there was no reason to go there or question you about it, because he knew you’d say anything to make him stay, even if it wasn’t true. Not because you were a liar, but because that’s what your body would push you to do right now.
Knowing that the smell of his own panic would just set you off more, he took a couple deep breaths before falling to his knees in front of you. He had to force down the rising upset in his chest at the scent of your tears, every part of him screaming at himself for upsetting you this deeply.
“Hey,” he called out softly, his hands reaching out to gently pull your hands away from where they were hiding your face. At the sight of your red-rimmed eyes and wet cheeks, his heart tugged. “Look at me.” He slipped a hand forward to cradle your head, brushing against the hair at the nape of your neck. He hoped so badly that he could be a comfort to you, even when he was the one who hurt you in the first place.
He waited almost a minute for you to look up, doing his best to calm you in that time. When you finally raised your eyes to look at him, the fear in your expression was something he’d only ever seen a few times in his life. You were an expert at putting on a brave face for the world, and seeing the uncensored pain displayed there punched him in the gut.
“Baby,” he cooed, pulling you into his arms. He carefully maneuvered your face into the crook of his neck, smiling as you melted into his hold, a content sigh leaving you. He wrapped his arms around you, face rubbing into your hair as he stopped resisting the urge to scent you. He ignored the shiver that ran down his spine at your scent that only seemed to be growing stronger.
The two of you stayed like that for several minutes, your body so limp in his grasp that he had to keep both of you upright himself. He couldn’t tell whether you were awake, goosebumps rising to the surface of his skin as your nose brushed against one of the most sensitive parts of his body.
But when he stood up, wanting to get you somewhere more comfortable than the floor, he felt every muscle in your body tense, a low whine leaving your throat. Your hands grasped onto his shirt. “Jimin-”
“Shh,” he soothed, continuing to nuzzle into you as he stood you both up. “I’m not leaving.”
“You’re not?” you repeated, muffled into his shoulder.
“I’m not.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.” He scratched lightly at your scalp as the other hand stroked up and down the length of your back, humming when you finally relaxed again, your arms wrapping around to tug him as close as possible. “Good girl.”
Something in him awakened when he heard the hitch of your breath at his words, but he shoved it down. He had to keep a hold of himself while he still had the chance – because once you were in heat, there would be no rest for either of you. Not when it was taking his entire focus to hold himself back right now and it was only your pre-heat.
“I’m gonna take you to your room, okay?” he asked quietly. When you nodded, he scooped you up, your legs wrapping around his waist, head lolling sleepily against his shoulder.
You were very clearly exhausted, and guilt gnawed away at him for it. The emotional ups and downs of the past half hour must have taken even more out of you – while you tended to be quiet, you were never this quiet, not with him. You seemed to be asleep, steady exhales hitting the skin of his neck.
When he entered your room, his heart skipped in his chest at the sight of his belongings strewn across your mattress, a you-sized gap in the middle where you must have been laying. He couldn’t help the pride swelling in his chest, the possessive part of him thrilled at the notion of you burying yourself in his scent.
He supposed he should be happy you were asleep. Omegas tended to be self-conscious about their nest, which was why he was surprised you agreed to let him take you here so easily. The idea that you felt comfortable enough to let him in here without a fight brought forth a feeling in his gut that felt suspiciously like butterflies.
Easing off the shoes he’d never had the chance to remove at the front door, he brought you both down into the bed, careful not to jostle your form. He laid you down together, your body atop his, heart melting at your tiny noise of content.
He had to bite back a moan when you nuzzled further into his neck, your lips brushing against his skin.
Get it together, Jimin.
He didn’t know if he would ever be relaxed enough to sleep when you were on top of him already smelling like every sinful desire he’s ever had. His cock shouldn’t have been stirring when you looked so innocent, your hands curled up ever-so-slightly under his shirt. And despite everything in his mind telling him that he would regret this, his entire body was screaming in anticipation for this entire weekend.
This wouldn’t be the first time he’s helped an omega through their heat, but everything was different because this was you. Someone he cared about, someone he loved, and he knew you loved him too, whether it was in the way he wanted or not. Heat flared in him at the thought of you wet and desperate only for him, begging to be filled. He knew you’d be out of your mind with lust, and even before seeing it he knew it would be the most beautiful sight he’s ever set eyes upon.
Get a hold of yourself, Jimin.
It was absolutely no use to contemplate these things now, especially not when the scent of his arousal might wake you up and set you off prematurely. You both needed rest – he’d be damned if he didn’t make this the best heat you’d ever had just because he was tired.
And so he wrapped his arms around your middle, willing arousal from his brain and replacing it with thoughts of sleep. Luckily, his body must have been able to sense his need for rest before the upcoming days, and sleep found him easier than anticipated.
--
You awoke to your back hitting your mattress, the first thing you noticed being that your body felt like it was being burned alive. But when you inhaled, the scent of pure alpha overtook all thought, brain incapable of anything other than unadulterated need, arousal shooting to your core almost instantaneously.
When your eyes shot open, fire lit within you when they immediately locked onto Jimin’s dark gaze, his body hovering over yours like he was about to pounce. When he took in the neediness in your eyes, his lip upturned in a salacious smirk, stare burning holes into you.
“Rise and shine, little wolf,” he drawled, hands locking onto your ankles and dragging you down the bed until your face was right below his.
You shivered despite yourself at the predatory expression on his face, holding back the whine that threatened to escape. You felt incapable of speaking, every intake of breath only fogging your mind further, the fire in you becoming so potent it was painful.
You couldn’t help the keening whimper that escaped when he roughly fisted a hand into the hair at the nape of your neck, yanking until your entire neck was on display. You gasped and arched into his body with want as he leaned in to inhale deeply right above your collarbone. The feral growl he let out at your scent had you shuddering, trembling hands trying desperately to pull him closer, but he didn’t relent.
“Please,” you begged, shoving your body upwards as much as possible, desperate to feel his body against your own. At the feeling of his canines brushing against the skin of your neck gently, you felt new wetness rush from you. Your desperation was only growing exponentially with every passing moment, and it felt like if you didn’t get touched soon, you would surely die.
“You smell so fucking good,” he snarled, voice raspier than you’d ever heard it before. He sounded almost pained, and it only set you off further. Everything in you ached for his touch, your cunt clenching around nothing despite Jimin not even having touched you yet. You needed it – needed to be touched, you needed him to quell the ache.
“Hurts,” you gasped out, still trying and failing to grind against his body above you.
“Aw, baby, I’m sorry,” he cooed, pressing his free palm down onto your clothed centre. His breath hitched as you started forcefully grinding against it immediately, a choked whine slipping from your lips at the sudden pressure right where you needed it most.
“Alpha...” you moaned, rutting shamelessly against his hand as you pushed further against the hand in your hair, baring more of the soft expanse of your neck. Your eyes shut as pleasure rocked your system, but it wasn’t enough. You needed more, his cock in your drenched cunt, his nails raking down your body as he utterly ravished you. You whined loudly at the thought, arousal slipping from you. It was clear he noticed when he hissed.
“Fuck, look at you. You’re dripping, so fucking desperate,” he panted, somehow sounding almost as ruined as you. “I’m gonna fuck this cunt senseless, fill you up so good you’ll never ask for anyone else again. Do you want that, little omega? Want me to make you mine?”
Any other time you might have questioned his possessive words, but any rational part of your brain was long gone. No, all that existed was you, Jimin, and your excruciating need to be filled.
“Yes, yes, yes,” you cried, whimpering at the imagery he put in your head. You wanted nothing more than to be his bitch, to take his cock and his seed and his knot. “Fuck me, please.”
“You beg so nicely,” he breathed, and you keened at the praise. You gasped as he sat back and quite literally ripped the shirt from your body, following suit with the rest of your clothes. You didn’t have it in you to complain, not when he was yanking your legs apart, gaze laser-focused onto your centre. “Don't worry, baby, your alpha is gonna take care of you, okay?”
You only nodded furiously, hips bucking upward suddenly as Jimin wasted no more time, two fingers smearing through your heat before thrusting abruptly into you. You finally felt some sort of relief at being filled, but it wasn’t enough. The stretch wasn’t satisfying enough, and your desire for more only amplified. But it seemed he knew this, adding another finger wordlessly.
“God, this cunt is so fucking hungry for me,” he growled, pistoning his fingers in and out roughly before grinding the heel of his hand into your clit.
You cried out as pleasure reared on you embarrassingly quickly, but no part of you wanted to cum without his cock inside you, dragging against your sensitive walls.
“Jimin...” you moaned, arching your back as you sought to push yourself closer to the source of your pleasure. He almost groaned at the sound of his name coming so wantonly from your lips. “Want you, please.”
“Yeah? You want to get stuffed?”
The garbled response you gave was nowhere near coherent, but it didn’t take a genius to see what you wanted. When he gave a low chuckle and pulled himself from his sweatpants, you started salivating immediately. He was girthy, vein visibly spanning the underside beneath his hand as he palmed himself. The head looked almost purple, the tip leaking. You needed it inside you.
Before you even realized it yourself, you were turning over onto your front. By the time you’d planted your face down, ass up, Jimin was already growling, roughly digging his fingers into your asscheeks. As several more seconds went by without his cock in you, you arched your back further, whining as he only dug his fingertips in harder.
“Such a good little wolf,” he crooned, hissing when your arousal dripped from your pussy to the bed. “Getting yourself so nice and ready for me. You need cock that badly? Can’t wait for it?”
You could have cried when you finally felt the tip of his cock at your entrance, but you didn’t have time to do or say anything before he shoved all the way in to the hilt without warning.
You must have screamed then, but you hardly noticed anything apart from the way he set a quick pace, hardly noticed when the tears left your eyes, body swimming in relief and euphoria. Every snap of his hips brought forth a moan from your lips, fingers digging helplessly into the sheets by your head.
“Tell me how it feels,” he snarled, moving to hold your hips up when the overwhelming pleasure left you unable to do it yourself.
It was all you could do to whimper, body feeling as though it was in the clouds as your walls clamped down on Jimin’s cock. He was stretching you so well, the slight burn nothing compared to the waves of pleasure he was sending through your entire being. You took a breath to respond to him once you registered what he said, but when his cock brushed against that spot inside you, it only left you as a choked moan.
“This needy cunt just sucks me right in, huh?” he groaned when your walls clenched down on him again, as though to trap him inside you. But it made no difference to him, his thrusts only continuing, fast and precise as your walls fluttered around him, whines falling from your lips. Recalling how responsive you’d been to praise earlier, he kept talking. “Doing such a good job for me, baby,” he hummed, smirking when he felt the shuddering of your body beneath his hands. “So fucking perfect for me, taking this cock so well.”
His words shot through you like fire, and combined with the drag of him inside you, you were propelled toward your end.
“Alpha...” you whimpered, pushing back onto his cock, a particularly rough thrust pulling a shout from your lips. You were so close to slipping over the edge, the squeezing of your walls around him more and more insistent as you approached your end. “Please.” It was as though no other words existed in your vocabulary, but Jimin could read you perfectly well, as though he was made for you.
“What’s that, hm? Baby’s gonna cum?” he taunted before reaching around to rub at your clit. “Let go then, milk my cock. I want to hear you.”
The added stimulation was more than enough to propel you into your orgasm, your mouth agape as your walls clamped down on his cock. You distantly registered Jimin’s moans from above you as he held you up and fucked you through your it, the sparks of pleasure never-ending.
But while his thrusts became less harsh, they did not lower in their intensity whatsoever. And as the fog in your head receded some from your orgasm, you only felt that much more sensation as you regained your bearings.
Rather than a mindless slave to pleasure and want, with your brain partly yours again you could truly feel. Feel the cotton of the sheets where they were clenched between your fists, feel the slight strain in your knees as they dug into the mattress, feel Jimin’s fingers anchored onto your hips, as though you would float away if he let go.
You could truly feel every drag of his cock against you, every grind, and when he perfectly maneuvered to hit against your g-spot, you were left breathless once again.
But with your increased coherence, your body craved more than just cock – you wanted closeness, wanted Jimin’s body against your own, his groans in your ear, his chest against your back.
“Jimin,” you called out, voice needy but noticeably more present.
His thrusts slowed but didn’t stop. “Hm?”
Rather than attempt to formulate an answer, you blindly reached a hand in his direction and made a grabbing motion. It was accompanied by your best impression of some sort of demanding noise, but you sounded like a spoiled brat even to your own ears.
He clearly didn’t mind though, huffing a laugh at your antics before coming down to your level, pressing some of his weight into your back as he nuzzled your neck.
“This what you want, baby?” he asked, wrapping his arms snugly around your middle. It would almost be cute, if not for the snap of his hips he opted to punctuate his question with.
You could only shiver and take it as he set a slow but intense pace, his cock slowly dragging out of you before he thrusted forward quickly in one single motion. But even in its intensity it was intimate, his lips tracing nonsensical patterns into the skin of your shoulder, his moans increasing in volume as you whined your pleasure.
His pace slowly but surely built you back up toward a second release, Jimin’s thrusts growing faster as he approached his own end. It wasn’t long before your moans were increasing in volume again, hips squirming beneath Jimin’s as that pressure in your abdomen only built and built.
“Gonna cum for me again, little wolf?” he growled directly into your ear, digging his fingers in close to your scalp and pulling your face up out of the sheets. No longer muffled, your moans were loud and unabashed, your pleasure surrendered entirely to him.
“I’m gonna fill this cunt up, gonna stretch you wide, is that what you want?”
As much as you were more coherent than last time, the effect his voice had on you was visceral, eyelids fluttering shut and goosebumps raising on your skin. When you only nodded with what little movement you could make within his grasp, he growled.
“Answer me!”
“Yes, yes!” you pleaded, eager to please. “Want you to fill me up, Jimin, please.”
“Such a good girl,” he moaned in response, moving to suck bruises into your neck. The thought of being marked by him for all to see only lit a new fire within you.
But when you felt the press of his canines brushing against the sensitive part of your neck, it was as though something in you snapped. You almost squealed as the orgasm rained down on you unexpectedly, something resembling ‘Jimin’ spilling from your lips, though you paid it no mind.
You were so lost in your pleasure you hardly noticed Jimin’s gruff yell from above you as he came, only registering it as his knot started to stretch you.
He shushed you gently as you whined, warmth still spilling into you as it finished inflating. Panting breathlessly against your back, he softly cupped your face as you caught your breath.
The stretch was more overwhelming than painful, every tiny movement seeming to shift his knot inside you enough to make you gasp. You should have grown used to the feeling by this point in your life, but it managed to catch you off guard every single time. You never felt ready for the immense stretch or the soreness that lingered between waves of your heat.
After several minutes of silence, breaths finally quieting, he spoke up.
“Are you okay?” he asked, hands reaching to keep you from squirming too much under him, knowing you’d only make the discomfort worse. “Relax for me.”
You nodded in response, letting yourself release the tension from your limbs as he continued to gently nose at your neck. His scent washed over you, but in this brief limbo between waves of your heat it spurred only calmness rather than arousal.
For you, at least, the first wave was always the worst in terms of self-control and mindedness. That was why it was essential for omegas to share their heat only with someone they could trust – if not a partner, then a friend. While omegas were at their most emotionally vulnerable during pre-heat, they were at their most physically vulnerable during the heat itself. In theory, Jimin could have done whatever he wanted, and you would have begged for it.
He hummed in approval when you went still beneath him, rolling the two of you onto your side so that you were no longer supporting his weight.
“Sleepy?” he inquired softly as he watched you stifle a yawn.
You only nodded again, reaching for Jimin’s hand to make him wrap it around you more snugly, pressing yourself as close to him as possible. You shivered as his knot shifted with your movement, though it didn’t ache as much as it did initially. You felt so full, his cock still half-hard within you, release still painting your walls with nowhere to go.
You let your eyes shut, soreness and exhaustion taking up residence temporarily before the next wave. As much as a heat could feel so intense it hurt, you found that the time between each wave was truly the most difficult. It was the time where every ounce of muscle pain and sleep deprivation hit you, but it was also the time where, to put it simply, if you didn’t recharge you were fucked.
Heats were strenuous on the body, and it unfortunately wasn’t abnormal for omegas to be brought to the emergency room from dehydration and malnutrition from their heat. That was why the medical professionals tended to encourage of-age omegas to spend their heats with a trusted partner – it was just safer altogether. It was difficult to push past the fog of exhaustion to take care of yourself when you were on your own, though not impossible.
A tiny whine was the only acknowledgment you gave when you felt his knot go down enough to slip from you. You made a noise of complaint as Jimin pulled from your side, but he quickly returned to you, wiping away the mess that was now between your thighs.
“If I help you, can you sit up?”
After hearing your noise of affirmation, he pulled you up so that your back rested against the headboard, careful not to move you too quickly. But despite that, you couldn’t help the lightheaded feeling that came with the motion, reaching out to steady yourself on Jimin’s arm.
When he took in your rapid blinking and unfocused eyes, his concern grew exponentially. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Tired,” you mumbled, leaning into his touch when he moved to stroke your face.
“Let’s eat something and then we can nap, okay?”
“Mm.”
He moved away from you quickly to grab things from under your bed. One of the first things they taught omegas after presenting was that it was essential to keep a food and drink store in your room during your heat. One of the most important parts of pre-heat was not only securing a heat partner if desired, but also packing enough nutrient-rich food and drinks to last through your heat if you’re unable to leave the room.
You hadn’t realized you’d dozed off until Jimin’s hand on your shoulder startled you awake. He took your hand in his own only to wrap your fingers around an energy bar he’d opened for you.
“Eat,” he commanded, though the soft, caring tone characteristic of Jimin never left his voice.
The thought of putting in effort to do anything was unappealing, but once you started, you realized how famished you were. When you finished your first bar within moments, he handed you a second, eating some for himself at the same time.
He didn’t waste any time with handing you a Gatorade bottle once you were finished eating, ensuring you could hold it yourself before getting his own.
As much as he seemed to be in a rush, this was a better safe than sorry type of situation. While sometimes you could squeeze in some sleep between waves of your heat, it sometimes felt like one huge gamble in terms of time. You’ve had downtimes of as little as 10 minutes in the past, so you were grateful that he was hurrying you along.
When he noticed you stopped drinking, he grabbed it from you to place it on the nightstand a safe distance away from the bed.
“Do you want anything else?” he asked, shoving all of the garbage into a bag to deal with another time.
“You.”
He turned around quickly, thinking you were going into your next wave, but froze at the sight of you simply blinking up at him sleepily.
He bit down on his lip to suppress a fond smile when you reached for his hand, severely hoping his face wasn’t as red as it felt.
He let you tug him forward, settling beside you in bed before pulling you securely into his side.
As much as you might have loved to talk or quietly cuddle, you were out like a light as soon as you laid your head down on his shoulder, face tucked securely into his neck.
--
The next two days went by in a blur. You never tended to remember very many specific moments from your heats besides that you felt good, and were definitely sore after. The combination of physical and mental exhaustion along with the mind-numbing desire didn’t seem to be conducive to proper brain function.
Fuck. Eat. Fuck. Eat. Nap. Rinse. Repeat.
“Kiss me,” you demanded, pulling Jimin down toward you by his shoulders.
From what you could tell, it was the last day of your heat, also making for the most coherent day. The consequences of not sating your heat on the last day were more uncomfortable than painful, and the sex almost resembled what it would any other day.
He obliged you easily, mouth meeting yours as he snapped his hips, filling you up and stretching you all in one stroke. He nipped at your lower lip as you moaned freely, arching your back to feel as much of his skin as possible.
You couldn’t help the increase in volume when he settled with his length in you, grinding his pubic bone into your clit. It seemed that Jimin was feeling similarly, both of you simply panting by each other's mouths rather than doing any sort of kissing like you’d intended.
It was only minutes before you felt the familiar tightening in your abdomen, Jimin groaning above you when he felt you clench around him. You whimpered as he sucked new bruises into the skin of your neck, a shiver making its way down your spine as he reached the soft skin below your ear.
But every part of you was screaming out for more.
“Mark me.”
Jimin froze instantly at your words, but it seemed that you weren’t properly considering the weight of your words, only urging him to continue his motions in search of your high.
A mark wasn’t permanent, but it was no small thing. More than a mark of “possession,” it was a mark of an alpha's care and loyalty, a mark of an omega’s trust. It was only something ever shared in serious relationships, and it would sometimes take partners years to reach that point.
“Jimin,” you whined when he ignored what you said. Every instinctive part of you wanted it so badly, your head subconsciously tipping back to give him easier access.
“No.”
“Jimin...”
“Don’t you know what you’re saying?”
“Please-”
“I said no,” he snarled, speeding up the snap of his hips enough that you were shifting up the bed. “Tomorrow, when this is all over,” he panted above you, teeth bared, “Then we’ll talk.”
He didn’t let you get a word in edgewise, continuously pulling himself from you fully before abruptly sheathing himself to the hilt once again.
You were left gasping for breath, swimming in sensation as your abdomen tightened, all else forgotten for the time being.
When he shifted to one side, a hand dropping to rub circles into your clit, you saw white. Your nails sharply dug into the skin of Jimin’s back where they were held, waves of pleasure battering you nonstop as he continued his thrusts.
But it was only moments later that he seated himself into you fully, warmth spilling into you as his knot inflated for the nth time since your heat began. It didn’t leave you gasping the same way as the first time, but a groan still wrenched itself from your throat at the sensation.
As soon as his body collapsed onto yours, you knew that your heat was finally over. The feeling was inexplicable, almost as though a weight had been lifted from the back of your mind.
You might have addressed the words uttered from your mouth only moments before if not for the debilitating fatigue that filled every limb and every square inch of your brain.
So, against your best judgment on any other day, you knocked right out.
--
When you next awoke, it wasn’t because desire ripped you from slumber, nor was it because your scent set off Jimin enough to wake you.
In fact, you were alone in your bed, immediately cringing at the sight of all the questionable stains dotting the sheets.
Good thing you had a mattress pad.
You sat up, wincing as every muscle screamed in protest. From your neck all the way to your fingertips, everything hurt. You’d probably be feeling this for days. It definitely didn’t help that the stench of sex was so strong you could feel a headache coming on.
You didn’t have time to ponder on Jimin’s whereabouts before he was coming back in through the doorway, half-dressed with water in hand.
He sent you a smile when you met eyes, but it was lost on you because as soon as he was here, every interaction over the past few days flooded your mind at once. And this time, there were no hormones to mask proper thought.
You asked – no, begged – him to stay. Even when he told you no.
You’d practically thrown a tantrum, what was wrong with you? Since when did your pre-heat make you throw respect out the window?
He wasn’t here because he wanted to stay, he was here because you forced him to. He was here because you were pathetic enough to get on the floor and beg him to stay, and Jimin, for the life of him, didn’t know how to say no to people. How could he look at you right now?
“Y/N?” he called, sounding puzzled. He must be able to smell your rising distress coming off you in waves, but you paid him no mind as you continued to recall the past few days, hating yourself more and more with every passing second.
You’d basically forced him to stay with you and fuck you for nearly four days without ever talking about it before.
It was more difficult to put together the pieces of what happened in your heat, memories mostly a blur of pleasure and then sleep.
But-
Fuck.
“Mark me.”
Your blood ran cold instantly.
Were you fucking insane? You dug your fingernails into your palms harshly to check if you were dreaming. Unluckily for you, you weren’t.
Was there any coming back from this? You couldn’t blame him if he could never look at you the same, if he never spoke to you again. Who would tell their heat partner – the first time they spent a heat together – to mark them?
It didn’t matter that you’d known each other since before you were even forming proper memories. It didn’t matter, because that wasn’t how this worked. You didn’t just ask your friends to mark you, no matter how much you loved each other.
A mark was something you shared with someone you intended to be lifelong partners with. Someone you’d dedicate your life to, someone you might want to have kids with someday.
God, what was wrong with you?
You didn’t notice his approach until a hand met your shoulder, too engrossed in staring at the floor as thoughts whirred in your head.
“What is it?” he asked, concern quickly turning into panic at finding you in this state with no explanation.
But it was as though with one touch, the floodgates broke, and angry tears started spilling from your eyes. Tears that had nothing to do with Jimin and everything to do with yourself.
He jumped back slightly in surprise, and you didn’t give him the chance to touch you again before you were furiously wiping the wetness from your face.
“God, are you okay? Did I hurt you?” he questioned frantically, hands returning to your shoulders as he angled his face to try to meet yours, but you only kept turning your head to avoid him. He looked like he didn’t know what to do with himself, whether to join you on the bed or continue hovering awkwardly from the bedside. “Talk to me, please-”
“Do you hate me?” you choked out, eyes fixed on a random, insignificant spot on the sheets.
That seemed to quiet him instantly. “Huh?”
“I forced you here,” you whispered, though it seemed that the words didn’t want to stop once they started, volume only rising as you carried on. “You came here to be nice and then you tried to leave and I didn’t let you. You said no so many times and I begged you to stay until you couldn’t say no anymore! I don’t even know what I was thinking, I guess I wasn’t thinking at all-”
“Hey-”
“I’m so sorry, I don’t know how you must think of me right now but I wouldn’t blame you if you thought I was disgusting, I think I’m disgusting, god-”
“Hey, look at me,” he urged, prodding lightly at your chin until you raised your head enough to meet his gaze. When he saw your red eyes and miserable expression, it was as though a piece of himself broke. “I stayed because I wanted to.”
“You didn't, I remember you told me no, you ‘wanted to’ because I made you.”
“It’s not like that,” he replied, expression almost pained.
“Don’t lie to me to make me feel better,” you snarled, though it came off more broken than aggressive. “Stop trying to protect me, tell me when you’re mad at me!”
“I’m not mad at you.”
“Jimin-”
“You trust me, don’t you?”
The sudden question was enough to give you pause. “You know I do.”
He took a moment to settle onto the bed beside you, stretching out an arm to invite you in to lay with him. After only a moment of hesitation, you did.
“Then trust me when I say I wanted to stay,” he said firmly, stroking calming circles into your side. “You know I don’t like lying to you.”
It was true, he didn’t. Which summoned the question – if he wanted to stay, why did he refuse so many times? Were you sure he wasn’t lying now?
No – that wasn’t Jimin. Plus, you knew him so well that you doubted he would lie to you about something this serious, not when he was such an open book. But you didn’t have long to think about it before he piped up again.
“You asked me something yesterday,” he started, and you could hear in his tone that he was treading carefully.
You tensed up immediately when you processed his words, breath quickening as you anticipated what he was about to say. Was this the part where he told you he’s not mad he stayed, but he never wanted to speak to you again? You’d relaxed enough in the past few minutes that you’d almost forgotten about what you’d said yesterday. Almost.
“Why?” he asked simply.
Why. An obscenely loaded question contained within one 3-letter word. And yet, an answer wasn’t so easy.
“I don’t know,” you stalled.
“Don’t do that,” he scolded. “Really think. I know you, and I know you’d never be that nonchalant about a mark, ever. What changed?”
“Nothing changed!”
He only turned to give you a disapproving look before leaning his head back against the headboard and shutting his eyes. It was clear that he wasn’t going to make any more conversation until you properly pondered his question and gave him a real answer.
Why?
Did you even know why?
You wished you could say it just slipped out, that there was no other reason.
Maybe any other time you’ve said something questionable or downright stupid that would fly, but not for something like this.
Even at their drunkest, people didn’t ask their friends to marry them with the full intent of following through and starting life as an actual married couple.
Just the same, an omega doesn’t just ask a friend to mark them, mate them, not even in heat. Omega heats made it a fairly common occurrence to fuck your friends (at least, a select few) while unmarked, and it wasn’t as though the desire to be marked stemmed from a heat. If it were, platonic marking would be a thing already. And sure, marking made sex feel better, but heats were sexual, and marks were... more.
That was the problem, wasn’t it? There was no easy excuse, no escaping this.
One might say an omega was a slave to instinct in their heat, but instinct didn’t come from nowhere.
The instinct to nest came from the pursuit of safety in a vulnerable time. The instinct to ‘hibernate’ came from the need to save up energy for a heat. The instinct to scent came from the desire for intimacy and comfort. The instinct to fuck came from hormonal cycles and the body’s inherent goal to breed.
The instinct to be marked as an omega? To ask for it?
The need for emotional security, to know that your feelings were returned – attraction, desire, love.
Love?
If your love for Jimin was supposed to be a secret, it wasn’t a very well-kept one. You talked every day since you were kids, knew each other's mannerisms so well you didn’t need words to communicate, gravitated toward each other in every group setting, cried together when you separated for university...
You loved him, without a doubt. It was obvious. But was it more than that? Was your body trying to tell you something that you didn’t even consider?
“I...” you started but immediately trailed off, limbs so tense you almost seemed ready to run away. This wasn’t a conversation you ever imagined could take place.
“Don’t be scared. You can tell me anything.” Were you imagining things, or did his tone sound almost... hopeful?
“I’ve never asked someone to mark me before this.”
He only hummed lowly in response. You knew that he knew this already, but it seemed that this time, he wouldn’t call you out for circling around the question.
“I’ve never met someone who I felt more for than you. Safe, comfortable, happy, loved.” You paused, taking a deep breath. “I love you a lot, you know?”
His breath hitched despite himself, even though he knew you didn’t mean what he wanted you to mean. “I know,” he replied, sounding almost disappointed.
“But...”
“But?” he responded, allowing that tiny thread of hope to wind around his heart one more time.
“But I don’t know what I’m feeling,” you finished, panic increasing exponentially by the end of your sentence, your body almost feeling as though it was trembling.
“Hey, it’s okay,” he rushed, bringing you closer to rub his cheek into your hair. Was it cruel of him to feel some sort of joy at your words when you were clearly scared and confused?
His scent washing over you helped calm you some, but even still, you couldn’t stop thinking. What were you feeling? Did you want something more than friendship, or was this entire situation just putting thoughts in your head? Sure, you were undeniably compatible sexually, and sure, you found him attractive, but did you want a relationship? A romantic one? But even then, how much would that really change? What did you want? Would Jimin be disgusted with you? Let you down easily? It would have to be the latter, right?
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked-”
“No,” you cut him off.
“Huh?”
“You should’ve. I can’t be stupid forever.”
“You’re not stupid.”
“I am stupid, what kind of person doesn’t know whether they...” Even despite knowing he could tell exactly what you were trying to say, the words wouldn’t come from your lips. Were you in denial? Embarrassed? Something else?
“Emotions don’t have to be straightforward.”
“I wish they were.”
He breathed a laugh at that. “Believe me, I know.”
“Jimin, be honest with me.”
“I’m always honest with you.”
“Let’s say, hypothetically, you have this friend. You’re very good friends – best friends even. You see each other as much as possible, all that. And she tells you one day she wants to talk.”
“Oh? What’s her name?”
“Uhhhhh...” you paused, pulling out the first name that came to mind. “Susan.”
He choked back a laugh, though you could still feel his chest bouncing beneath your head. “My friend Susan. Okay, go on.”
“And she tells you that something happened, and it spurred this huge train of thought that had never occurred to her before. Something that made her think about your entire relationship as friends, and made her think about herself.”
“Uh huh...”
“And she had to wonder, how much of her heart was invested in this relationship? That answer was easy – all of it. But what really had her confused was what parts of her heart were in it.”
You fidgeted nervously, but instead of saying something, Jimin only reached for one of your hands, intertwining your fingers together.
“But what really scared her the most was – how would you react? What happens when your best friend tells you that maybe your love for them extends beyond friendship?”
You took several deep breaths, trying to muster up the courage to finish the ‘story’ you’ve started. There was no backing out of this now. Your hand squeezed his hard enough that it must have hurt him, though he didn’t seem to mind.
“If she told you she thought she loved you as more than a friend, how would you respond?” you asked, trying to inject as much nonchalance into your voice as possible and failing miserably. You could feel your palms getting sweatier, and you thought your teeth might chew straight through your bottom lip. You held your breath once you heard Jimin take one of his own, preparing mentally for whatever was about to leave his lips.
“I would tell her I love her back.”
It was as though time stopped. “You... you what?”
Unwilling to let you hide your face anymore, he pulled you over so that you were straddling him, your heart filling when your eyes met his, full of honesty and understanding and... love.
“I would tell her I love her back. That if she wanted me, I was hers.”
Your eyes searched his face desperately for several seconds longer, waiting for the moment this bliss would break, the moment he took his words back, left you heartbroken before you’d even properly processed that it was his to break. But that moment never came.
“Really?” you whispered, eyes wide and screaming with vulnerability, but also wonder. The petty part of him wished he could fault you for being so oblivious, but it wasn’t your fault that you two had simply never outgrown the innocent intimacy from childhood, even after presenting.
“Really.”
“I do want it. You. I want to try. If you can be patient with me.”
“Okay. Give me a chance and I’ll make you fall in love with me for sure.”
“Oh.” As hard as you tried to purse your lips, the smile still broke its way through, eyes crinkling happily as every insecurity felt like it left at once. Was it this easy? Could happiness come so quickly in a moment, just like that?
“Oh,” he replied simply, beam splitting his face at your barely-contained joy, your expression so innocent even after all that happened the past few days.
“Oh,” you repeated, though this time the word undoubtedly seemed to harbour more weight, brows furrowing.
“Hm?”
“That’s why you said no, isn’t it? The reason you wanted to stay but tried to leave?”
The sad smile that spread across his face at that was all the answer you needed, the briefly-forgotten guilt coming back instantly.
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s not your fault,” he assured, pulling you close enough that your bodies were plastered together. “It all worked out anyway, right?”
You nodded, relaxing in his arms. If your brain wasn’t going a mile a minute right now, you were so comfortable you could’ve slept like this.
You allowed yourself several minutes to simply lay in his arms, that familiar blueberry-pine scent making you heart feel lighter and lighter.
“So,” you mumbled.
“So.”
“What changes now?”
“What do you want to change?” he replied.
“I asked first.”
He chuckled lightly. “Fine. Well...” You leaned back in confusion when he started pushing you up and off of him. “I think being able to do this is a good change.”
He leaned his face into yours, giving you a moment to back away before gently pressing his plush lips to yours.
You’d kissed already in your heat – you remembered that much. But this wasn’t a kiss that demanded your surrender, nor was it fast, or rough. It was just soft, intimate – because sometimes, emotions were easier said through actions rather than words.
You slid your hands into his hair, dragging your nails against his scalp as you deepened the kiss. His hands traced nonsensical patterns into the skin of your back, holding you close as though you’d ever want to leave. It was so easy to get lost in him, in the way he held you, touched you, kissed you, as though you were something to be cherished.
It wasn’t long before the kiss started to get more heated, though, and you couldn’t help yourself from nipping at his bottom lip. He made a low noise in response, a hand moving to grip your ass as the other winded its way into your hair.
It was when his hand made contact with your bare ass that you remembered that you were naked throughout this entire ordeal. And just as you processed that, his hand started inching its way slowly but surely between your legs.
“I think the fuck not, Park Jimin,” you gasped, breaking the kiss and throwing his hand from your body.
He burst into bright laughter at your words, eyes forming crescents that would make any person’s day better. His happiness was contagious, and you couldn’t hold back the giggles at the sound of him.
“How sore are you?” he questioned, tiny giggles still escaping him. You thought you detected a hint of concern somewhere in there, but you couldn’t blame him for being in an obscenely good mood.
“Ugh. Are you not sore at all?”
“Not really? Mostly hungry, I guess.”
“I hate you. It feels like all of my limbs want to detach from their sockets, and don’t even get me started on what it feels like between my legs. You and your dick can go die.”
Your words only set off another round of laughter from him, his grin wide as he took in your fake pout.
“Are you sure you want that? You seemed to enjoy it from where I was standing. You’re sending me mixed signals here,” he teased.
You let out a childish noise of complaint. God, was this what you were getting yourself into? You were already used to his antics by now, but now you had to deal with them while he flirted too? Someone send help.
“Pity me a bit,” you whined, giving him the best wide-eyed pout you could muster. Though, it only seemed to raise his mood even more.
“I’m sorry I broke you,” he said.
You smacked him a bit harder than you would normally. “Jiminnnnnnnnn,” you said, stringing out the word for as long as a breath would allow.
“If I made you food, would you forgive me?”
“...I’m listening.”
“What if I said I already made you food?”
“What?!” you perked up, any grudge you might have held disappearing in an instant. “What did you make?”
“Lay down and find out in 5 minutes, I’m tired,” he responded, laying down comfortably and encouraging you to do the same. You didn’t require much convincing, cuddling back into his side. This position wasn’t anything abnormal for you two, but it felt different now. Newer, more intimate.
Needless to say, 5 minutes turned into 2 hours after you’d both fell asleep.
But when Jimin placed a bowl of re-heated stir-fry in front of you 2 hours later, you would say he secured his place as fully, unequivocally yours.
6K notes · View notes
jimilter · 3 years
Text
riptide (m) | k.sj. | (1/2)
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one | two
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pairing:  kim seokjin x reader
rating:  m (18+)
genre:  angst | smut | established relationship!au
summary:  It takes a foolishly trivial incident to unravel how astonishingly little you and Seokjin actually understand each other. It has you questioning your relationship, and him? Well, he’s questioning his whole life.
warnings:  swearing + implied alcohol consumption + realistic relationship problems + mentions of insecurities, jealousy, complicated mental dispositions + emotional distress + sexual situations (unprotected penetrative sex, dirty talking, a bit of manhandling, fingering) + mentions of masturbation + a ton of miscommunication (refer to the summary smh)
word count: 12.3 k
note:  it’s FINALLY done, y’all! came up to be a monster of 25k words, so i decided to split it into two. i’ll drop the other part next week. this took a lot more time, energy and re-writing than i’d thought it would. i began writing this in january - it’s been five excruciating months! 😩 i really hope y'all will like this one~ 🥺💜
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💟 YOUTH – 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7
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— masterlist
— feedback is always appreciated!
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riptide (n) – a dangerous area of strongly moving water in the sea, where two or more currents meet.
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Lady, running down to the riptide - Taken away to the dark side - I wanna be your left hand man.
The turn of events has been so fucking hilariously impossible that Seokjin has literally been rendered speechless. Which doesn't happen often, mind you. What can he do, he is just extremely witty—he always has something to say about everything, usually and preferably with impeccable comic timing. Especially when it comes to you. 
This, though. This completely baffling scenario, right in front of him, has him gaping like a goldfish with no words to say.
"Final call, Jin. Gawk at me for five more seconds and I walk out of here," you threaten, an elegant arm poised at your waist and gorgeously plump lips pressed into a thin line. "Say something?"
And Seokjin still cannot formulate a single word, because what the actual fuck? How can you even think that he could ever— 
"Alright." You catwalk out of his bedroom, leaving him blinking into space.
He jumps the next second, leaping after you. "Honey! How would—what—I can never—why do I even have to say—will you wait? You’re being so ridiculous, right now, I hope you know that!"
If he wasn't in such a fix, Seokjin would physically cringe at his speech. It was better when he was just gaping.
“Honey! Stop being so overdramatic, you’ve known me and you’ve known Jimin! For years! Stop acting like you seriously don’t know what happened, here!”
You don't stop, though, gliding down the stairs and hopping over the haphazardly tossed items in the living room as you exit out of the house.
And then you're gone. You're really gone, over something so fucking ridiculous, that Seokjin still has no words to say.
All he knows is that his girlfriend of five years has finally gone crazy enough to jump to conclusions of such high magnitude of stupidity.
And, that Park Jimin is a dead man.
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It all begins on an unsuspecting Sunday morning, when the entire house is smelling of weed, stale booze and some worse fluids. 
Last night, Seokjin vacated his own bedroom for the boys to smoke up in at Jimin's request, because that is the only well ventilated room of the house. He spent the night in Yoongi's room with earplugs in, dead to all the chaos in the house—as he often does on party nights—to catch up on his beauty sleep. He cannot afford any unbecoming dark circles or, God forbid, breakouts.
And no, that's not a comedic moment, he really does need his face looking perfect this week for reasons outside of personal gratification too, because he has a shoot on Tuesday. He especially took a leave from his part-time job at the Mexican restaurant downtown where his girlfriend, you, work full-time, on a Tuesday—saying goodbye to all the amazing tips always forwarded to the cooks on Taco Tuesday—for this. Nothing would mess up his face.
Not to mention that one very important audition for a very gigantic project he's been looking forward to. They're yet to announce the date, but it would be this very month. He hasn't really told you much about it, planning a huge surprise for later when—if, actually, but he prefers to be unrealistically optimistic in every situation possible—he bags the coveted position, at the end. He hasn't really decided upon much, other than a long drive and a picnic date to one of those grasslands on the city's outskirts that you love so much. Oh, and bringing up the prospect of moving in together in an apartment with just the two of you. 
He's pretty certain you must not remember him raving about the opportunity, because it has been months since he did that. He then proceeded to be covert about all the mini auditions and trainings he underwent to prepare for the final audition, and he is confident you have not connected the dots.
But that is all a discussion for later — he doesn't even know when he would be auditioning. 
The crux of the whole matter is that he needs to keep looking as flawless as he can until that audition happens.
So he has slept like a baby, last night, while the rest of his friends have partied, including two out of three of his housemates—Hoseok and Jimin—along with Taehyung and Taehyung's girl. Namjoon had foregone attendance in lieu of the Halloween party, next weekend, that he knows he would definitely be forced to attend because Hoseok is hosting. Yoongi, his third and final housemate, escaped the house altogether to spend a night of music-making with Jungkook in his dorm.
So, in the morning, when Seokjin is moving around his kitchen that seems to have been hit by a tornado, checking the fridge and mentally praying that his baggie of smoothie ingredients is still in good shape—a scream echoes around the house.
Seokjin freezes. That sounded a lot like…you.
Immediately alert, he runs out of the kitchen and into the drawing room. Hoseok is hanging upside down on one of the couches, something that looks a lot like undigested white sauce pasta puddles on the ground, inches from his new, fiery red hair. Seokjin grimaces.
"Kim Seokjin!" your screech tears the silence.
Seokjin twists on his heels, looking up in the direction of his bedroom. It really is you. And you're in his bedroom—the room he did not occupy last night.
God only knows what kind of a scene you have walked in on. He hopes these idiots didn’t have an orgy up there, although he really can’t put it past them.
Not waiting another second, Seokjin rushes up the stairs and pushes through the doors to his bedroom. His mouth falls open on an audible gasp.
You stand next to his bed, dressed up elegantly in a navy dress that ends above your knees—which makes him wonder if you are here for an impromptu breakfast date—with one hand clutching his duvet that has uncovered what looks like…
…a head of long, dirty blonde hair.
Who the fuck?
In his bed?
"Hey, Honey!" Seokjin's voice is a squeak. "You… you here for a date?" he manages out of a suddenly parched throat.
You roll your eyes. "Uh huh. A fact you would've known if you looked at the texts I sent you last night." Your eyes are narrow at him. "This explains why you didn't, though. Busy night, Jin?" 
He balks at your words, at a loss. How could you even think it was him, when you know all about Park Jimin and his escapades?! 
Seokjin's blood boils. Fucking Jimin. There is going to be blood on Seokjin’s hands. 
In the midst of it, the blonde head shifts. 
Soon after, as you two watch, a pair of brown eyes with smudged makeup emerge from inside Seokjin's bed—and the audacity?! There’s makeup all over his covers! Jimin will pay for the dry cleaning. The face is followed by a whole, tiny woman of five-something feet who is, thankfully, covered in a shirt.
Seokjin is almost not breathing when the blonde starts to give him a dreamy smile, his gaze switching between her and you. And it’s extremely stupid, because he hasn’t seen this woman before, ever, in his entire life. But he catches the way your arms fall to your sides and those elegant, dainty fingers of yours ball up into fists as you look at the blondie’s face.
Fortunately, the girl recognises him at last before her grin could turn fully dopey, and with a squeak, jumps out of the bed. “You’re not—um. Hi. Sorry, I, uh. I’ll get going.”
And surprisingly, she does exactly that in less than a minute, leaving you to stare down at Seokjin.
“You know, it’s really unbecoming for a girlfriend to keep finding girls in her boyfriend’s bed every other week and not be given an explanation, ever.” Your tone is teasing, but your eyes are taunting. “You shouldn’t always be so dismissive, you know? What if I start getting ideas? I don’t think you even remember how to make up with your girlfriend, at this point, because I never fight.”
That is when Seokjin starts gawking. And literally doesn’t stop until you’ve left the house.
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“I don’t get it,” Jackson says, stuffing cold noodles into his mouth and chewing on them without closing it. “Do you think he cheated on you, or do you not think he cheated on you?”
You look at your best friend with your face twisted up in disgust. You swear to God you would never have agreed to make friends with this guy on your mother’s insistence when the Wang family moved in next doors to you, had you known he’d turn out to be such a barbarian a decade later. Twelve-year-old Jackson had been such a decent kid—studious, elegant, well-mannered. What went wrong, along the way?
You exhale, shifting on your chair, very wary of any dried up fluids that you might come in contact with. “I know he did not cheat on me, Jax, the very notion is completely ridiculous.”
Jackson stops chewing and looks away from the WWE match playing on the TV to squint at you. “I’m…confused? Wait. What is the problem, then? What are you mad at him for?”
To be completely honest, you aren’t quite certain yourself.
But you do know that you don’t feel good. And that this feeling has been building up over a couple months, but you have only really acknowledged it head-on, today, in all five-something years of your relationship. Five years, seven months and eight days, to be exact, but that’s kinda besides the point.
You’ve had at least a few months’ worth of buildup that has gotten you to this point, you would admit. Especially after Seokjin had to cancel that visit to your hometown at the end of June, for your parents’ thirty-fifth wedding anniversary celebration because he had an important audition for a big-brand ad film. The cancellation was acceptable, but his offhand comment that, “thirty-five isn’t even that special, we’ll get them a huge gift for their fiftieth,” stayed with you longer than it should’ve. Things got okay-ish when you reminded yourself how Seokjin never really thought too hard about things he said, always being a humorous, unattached clown in every situation. But this morning's dismissal has pushed you over that edge. You straightaway goaded him, claiming he doesn’t remember how to make it up to you, and all you got in response was his shock and being called “ridiculous” and “overdramatic.” Fun.
You were most certainly joking, if a bit caustically, when you said what you did. He could have taken it as a joke and laughed it off. He could have taken it as a threat and comforted you, said it was Jimin that used his room, and maybe kissed you. You already knew what had happened when you saw the girl, anyway. But this was probably the third time this situation had happened, this month. 
Sure, you are understanding and really do know Jimin and what all he gets up to, but is that really supposed to be such a given? Asking your boyfriend to hug you close and kiss your forehead when you discover a girl in his bed just as you were about to cuddle the lump of sheets thinking it was him, is not too much to expect, is it?
Granted, Seokjin has never been extremely expressive, but still. It feels like he’s consciously trying to keep you at a distance, these past few months.
You don’t have the complete grasp of the storm of thoughts in your head yet, but you want to try and explain it to Jackson the best you can. 
“It was about respect, in a way, I guess,” you quietly mumble, and Jackson turns the TV off, now sitting cross legged on the couch to face your chair. He puts away his takeout container to frown at you, probably gleaning how serious this is for you. “He stood there, without saying a single word, expecting me to stop being mad. Almost willing me to stop being mad by making these big, incredulous eyes at me. Like it was that horrible of his girlfriend to demand for an explanation when she found a girl in his bedroom. It was just the two of us, I wasn’t making a scene in front of anybody. He just—ugh! He could’ve simply asked me to not be mad, said it was Jimin who spent the night in the room and maybe even laughed about it, or plotted Jimin’s murder—I would’ve joined in—but no. He acted like I was being stupid, told me not be ridiculous and dramatic. And that made me feel really stupid.”
Jackson winces. “And why do you think you were not being stupid?”
You exhale. “I wasn’t. Because I wasn’t actually accusing him of anything, and five years down the lane, he should know that now. I just wanted him to say it and not scold me when I tease-taunted him. He always expects me to know everything. And even though I always do, it gets tiring sometimes. These weird thoughts get to you — that maybe you’re being too understanding and he’s using that to his advantage, you know?” You look down at your lap, playing with your nails. “It’s just…um. I wanted him to coddle me, I guess. To treat this as something big because I was throwing a tantrum about it and, just, I don’t know—try to cajole me? Assuage me with his words, maybe? But he didn’t. Because he hasn’t done that in forever. Because I never need him to, because I always freaking understand everything!” A sob leaves you.
Jackson pats the place next to him. “C’mere, you dumdum, and stop hyperventilating,” he mumbles, hugging you to his side when you move to sit on the couch. “I don’t exactly understand how the relationship dynamics work, but from what you told me, I get that you wanted attention? Some loving? And instead you got disappointed looks because Jin expected you to be mature and rational about it — the way you always are — and that too with his fucking eyes and some low-key insult words? Is it something like that?”
Wow, Jackson really paraphrased all that amazingly. “Yes, actually. It’s exactly that.”
Jackson sighs. “Y’all have been together a long time, babe, so I guess it’s kind of a given that you’d get to a no-bullshit point. Which is why he hasn’t done that in forever, because y’all probably don’t need that kinda stuff between you anymore.”
“I get that, it’s how a relationship matures. But I’m pretty certain that it’s not supposed to make me feel like this,” you sound slightly muffled, having stuffed your face into Jackson’s hoodie-covered chest. “I feel—I feel like we got too comfortable and now he’s just started to take me for granted. And I also feel like I’m being too needy. Am I being needy and annoying? He’d hate me if I told him all this, won’t he? Half of the reason we’ve worked out so well is because we’re both career oriented and don’t waste time overthinking stupid shit.” You gasp. “Oh, no—would he leave me? He’s used to his girlfriend being mature, not needy—”
You are cut off when Jackson pulls you away by your shoulders, giving you a serious look. “Wait, wait, stop. What did you say? Not the needy part, you’re allowed to be needy once in all the damn three-sixty-five days y’all stay busy for. The…taking you for granted part. Pretty big of a thing to say, babe.”
You sigh. “We haven’t been on an actual date in months. Seokjin thinks there’s no need for that extra effort when we spend lunch breaks at work together, everyday. Outside of the restaurant, our meetings involve our entire flock of friends by default. It’s been three months since we slept together.” You sniff, hating having to impart such a private detail of your life. “So no, I don’t think it’s that big of a thing to say, at all.”
“Wow.” Jackson gives a slow whistle. “You’ve really been bottling up a lot in there, huh?”
You shrug. “I guess. It never made me feel underappreciated, though. Sure, I was irritated at some occasions and disappointed at others, but… Today I feel horrible, Jax.”
“Did you share anything with Byulyi?” he asks, referring to your flatmate and good friend since college.
You shake your head. “She already has a lot on her plate, right now. She got rejected by the photographer she wanted to intern with, so it’s back to freelancing for her.”
“Yeah, that must suck.” Jackson grimaces. Then he looks at you. “You need to take a break, hun. Sit back, today, and have tacos and beer with me. Reset your inner thoughts. Talk to Jin tomorrow. Although, I must say, it’s kinda depressing that you have to actually tell your boyfriend that he’s being a bad boyfriend. Isn’t that kind of shit supposed to be realized on your own?”
You purse your lips. “I guess, yeah. But…don’t say that he’s being a bad boyfriend, Jax. I don’t think he even realizes something is wrong.”
“And that…doesn’t make it worse?” At your raised eyebrows, he concedes with a roll of his eyes. “Fine, fine, in any case — maybe try to hint at it before you dive straight in with the kill? See if he reacts?”
“I don’t know, Jax. What if he doesn’t? He’s really not the best at taking hints and reading signs, or that kind of subtle stuff.”
“Then you can just say your shit. All I’m saying is, give him a chance to figure it out on his own. He’s probably really clueless why you reacted so big on something so small, this morning. If you drop hints, maybe he’ll feel it out.”
You nod, somewhat amazed at how sound Jackson’s advice seems. “How are you doing this, Jax? Being a love guru all of a sudden?”
Jackson scoffs. “I’m just tryna put myself in Seokjin’s shoes. If I was in the situation he’s in, this is what I’d like to happen — be given a window to figure out what’s wrong. You’ve been together a long time, hun. It really shouldn’t be that difficult for him.”
You shrug a shoulder. “I won’t be too sure about that. Why does it even matter if he can or cannot, though?”
Jackson seems to be mulling over something before he drops his chin to his chest. “Because you’re supposed to be partners, hun. If you can tell what’s up with him with a single glance, why can't he? Not being good at taking signs is not a good enough excuse. My gut says that he’d be able to, though. And that knowledge will make you feel infinitely better, trust me. It’ll be reassuring to learn that he really knows and understands you well, won’t it?”
You nod, slowly, but you still have your suspicions. Seokjin has just been the kind of guy whose emotional depth goes to a certain extent and then just — well, stops. There are things that he feels and realizes and sees, and there are things that he doesn’t. It isn’t even something he does, you believe. It’s just how he is. Certain feelings just don’t fall in his orbit. And you’ve never found there to be anything wrong with it when he’s been an immaculately amazing boyfriend and tended to every single one of your needs, always. Well, you have never actually needed emotional consoling, too, so you haven’t had the chance to audition him for that. You keep yourself too busy for all that unnecessary mental pressure. It comes as a surprise, but you have never cried on Seokjin’s shoulder in all these years of your togetherness. You’ve kept your head straight and chin up, even during your college exams. And so has Seokjin, because you’ve never seen him cry, either.
Lately, though, things have been kind of weird. The gradual transformation into your professional lives that began after college, has been drastic in the past few months. Seokjin has been constantly prioritizing his career over you, and you have been understanding about it because you agree with it — to an extent. Seokjin believes it all the way through, though, and you have known for a while that you would hit your limit at some point, and would try to bring him back to yourself. Today morning, it seems, you hit that limit. 
You felt dispensable. 
You hate this feeling.
To be very honest, you know you can get over this. You can give it some time, remind yourself of how much your Jin loves you, believe that he is eventually going to come back to you once he settles, and be understanding about the entire thing. 
You can — but you really don’t want to.
Something tells you that this feeling of getting too comfortable will only fester and take a worse form as time goes by. You can wait it out, sure, and hope you aren’t being a pushover as he works on building his career. You are building your career, too, after all, and at least some of it has been for each other. 
The thing is, your plans with Seokjin are long-term—marriage, kids, white-picket fence, and all that. And you believe that if you are sensing a problem now, you better deal with it now before it has the chance to change its form and affect you both when you are at a more responsible point in your life.
Mind made up, you look up at Jackson, immediately grimacing when he forwards a greasy hand to pick up a taco for you. “I don’t…I don’t like tacos. And may I exchange the beer for scotch?”
“You work at a Mexican restaurant, and you don’t like tacos,” Jackson deadpans.
“They mess up my skincare.”
“Oh, fuck off! Have a spinach smoothie with a drink, why don’t you?”
You purse your lips to hold back your laughter at his ire, your own worries forgotten in the moment as Jackson gets up to get you a glass of scotch and some healthier snacking alternative.
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“You're a dead man.”
Jimin stops dead in his tracks, arms frozen in the act of putting a t-shirt on. He blinks at Seokjin with big round eyes. “Hyung?” he mumbles, a picture of unblemished innocence, especially when he covers his toned torso with the oversized t-shirt he was in the process of getting into. “What—what’d I do?”
Someone who doesn’t know better would never believe that this young, innocent, frazzled haired fairy-boy could ever do any wrong. But Seokjin knows better. “You chaotic womanizer,” Seokjin nearly hisses, "you've gotta learn to clean after yourself. Honey found a girl in my bed. A girl—in my bed.”
Jimin had the decency to drop the innocent act. “Oh. Oh.”
Seokjin raises a brow. “Oh? That’s it?”
"Yeah, well, I clarified to her that it was a one time thing when we got to it. She was obviously expecting something more if she didn't leave when I told her to. Disappointed but not surprised." Jimin is frowning when he comes to sit down on the couch next to Seokjin. “Sorry you two had to see that. You clarified to Honey noona that I’d been the occupant of the room, though, right?” 
“I—what?” Seokjin scoffs. “Why would I even need to do that? She knows that already, obviously. She’s been seeing you for over five years, or have you forgotten?”
Jimin squints. “I mean…okay, fair point, I guess. Why’re you so worked up, then? Did something else happen, too? Where’s she, now?” Jimin looks around the living room as if looking for you.
Seokjin sighs. “Well, I couldn't really get much out before she was storming out of the damn house, altogether.”
Jimin blinks. “Storming out? Why? She… um, was she mad?"
Seokjin opens his mouth – and then shuts it. Was she mad, indeed. "I don't know. She looked kinda mad, yes. But maybe she was in a hurry?" 
"Why would she be mad? Did you try to call her? Text her? It's unlike her to react so big on something so small." Jimin bites down on his lip, looking lost in thought. 
Seokjin shakes his head. "She didn't pick up or text back."
“There’s definitely got to be an underlying reason for her being like this. Are you sure you guys haven’t been fighting, hyung?” 
Seokjin sighs. “Yes, Jimin, I’m absolutely certain that there hasn’t been any fighting of any sorts between the two of us before today.” He pauses. “Well, she was slightly irritated that I didn’t check her texts last night, but she knows I go to bed at eleven on days leading up to a shoot, so that one’s on her.”
Jimin looks genuinely concerned, which, in turn, makes Seokjin concerned. Jimin isn't the type to stress over stuff if he can help it. Sure, he cares about the boys and would always be down to do whatever he can for them, but his throwing-caution-to-the-wind way of life causes him to not take most of the things in life seriously.
You’ve been like an older sister to the boys ever since Seokjin started dating you and introduced you to them. They all have their ways of showing their respect and affection to you. Well, maybe not Jungkook because he can’t get over getting unnecessarily intimidated by Seokjin enough to relax around you. 
Jimin, especially, always seems to be affected by any tension in Seokjin’s relationship. Everyone can see how it upsets his entire life when you two are fighting, although he’d never admit to it. He doesn’t need to, because it’s pretty obvious when he becomes a cranky six-year-old who hates the world. 
Right now, he has a guilty frown on his face. "I should've seen to it that Suzette left before I went to shower," he mumbles as if talking to himself. “Shouldn’t have trusted her to leave just because I told her to.” He looks up at Seokjin with troubled eyes. "I'm sorry, hyung."
Seokjin can not believe himself when he shakes his head at Jimin's apology—this little demon causes so much chaos in all their lives that any apology coming from him should be justified and welcome. But this one isn't really on him. "It's not entirely your fault."
Jimin's demeanor changes a bit and the attitude Seokjin is used to witnessing makes an appearance. "Right? That's what I was thinking, too!" Jimin exclaims, some of the concern on his face lifting. "You have to talk to Honey noona and make things right, though, hyung. She’s the only womanly touch in our man cave. We’d all be barbarians without her.” Jimin looks very wary and kind of nervous.
“It’s funny you would crave her ‘womanly’ presence when she’s rushed off because of a woman that you brought home.” Seokjin scrunches his nose. "And I said it isn't entirely on you, because it is partially on you, Park Jimin. You borrowed my room to smoke up in. Why couldn't you take your Suzy back to your own room?"
"Suzette," Jimin corrects under his breath while shaking his head. "Yeah, I should've, but… your room just felt like a better choice during the high," he finishes in a mumble, dragging a hand down his face. “Hyung,” Jimin says with a pout on his lips, “the last time you two fought was two years ago, remember? On your birthday? When Hobi hyung dumped cake in noona’s hair and she had her first shoot for that bigshot magazine, the next day?”
Seokjin nods with a sigh. “She yelled at me for having stupid friends, and I yelled at her for caring more about the shoot that having a good time on my birthday. Yes, I remember.”
“And then she didn’t visit us for a whole week. Please don’t let that happen, again.” Jimin looks up at Seokjin with big, round eyes. “I can’t take that kind of unrest in my life."
Seokjin briefly wonders, if Jimin’s nightly conquests were to see this side of him, would they run in the opposite direction or be more attracted to him? Jimin definitely needs someone in his life that would bring out this side in him and stay to provide him the emotional comfort he requires when he gets like this. 
“I will try not to, Jiminie, but…” Seokjin shuts his eyes. “I seriously do not understand her actions from the morning,” he finishes in a mumble.
“Maybe she’s—maybe she’s worried about something else? Some other aspect of her life?” Jimin suggests with wide eyes. “And she’s just projecting onto you.”
“As sound as the explanation is, I am literally involved in ninety percent of the aspects in her life,” Seokjin says with a twist to his lips. “I would know if something was wrong anywhere.”
“That’s cocky of you to say,” Jimin snarkily comments with narrowed eyes. At Seokjin’s raised eyebrows, he amends, “That’s cocky of you to say, hyung-nim.”
Seokjin scoffs, but then he shrugs his shoulders. “It’s true. We work at the same restaurant, we’re scouted by the same agency. Even her agent is best friends with mine—she gossips a ton about how Honey passes up so many opportunities and pisses her agent off. Her friends are, well—” Seokjin stops short when it hits him. “Wang. Wang could know something!”
Jimin is looking at him skeptically when Seokjin meets the younger’s eyes. “I just think you should have a simple talk with noona first before digging around.”
That is sensible advice. Seokjin nods as he pulls his phone out.
“Just find out what’s been troubling her, hyung. You two are rational people, I’m sure you’ll work it out.” Jimin pauses to scratch the back of his head. “Just please don’t let this be another fight like that one?”
“Don’t worry,” Seokjin finally says with a pat on Jimin’s shoulder as he finishes sending off another text to you, “this one is nothing like that fight.”
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Turns out, this fight really is not like that one. Or any other fights Seokjin has ever had with you, in fact, because you’re giving him the silent treatment. 
You’ve never given him the silent treatment. 
Not even when you were students and didn’t have a load of time on your hands and used to waste precious sleep hours arguing over stupid shit that would probably resolve itself if you just slept on it and looked back at it with a fresh state of mind. Not even then did you forego talking.
Needless to say, Seokjin is distressed.
You drive to the house to pick him up at your usual time, the next morning, after not having responded to any of his calls or texts for the entire day. Seokjin is aghast as he gets into the car.
“Honey! What is going on? Why didn’t you—where have you been?”
You simply start the engine and take off. “Busy,” you murmur after a while.
Soekjin’s head is close to exploding. “Busy? Doing what?”
Your face remains stoic as you weave through the morning traffic. Seokjin looks at you. You’re dressed up in your waitressing outfit that consists of a shirt, skirt and tights, and being who you are, Seokjin can proudly say that you would stand out to be the most well dressed server in the field. You’re always pristine and tidy — no accidents happen to you at the job ever. No spillage of drinks or ketchups, no soiled hands being wiped down on your skirt. Nothing even ruins your manicure. 
It is something that Seokjin has always tried to keep up with, this cleanliness streak of yours. Because he has always assumed you would expect it out of him, too. You were attracted to the cover model version of him, after all. It is quite natural that you would have those kinds of expectations. And Seokjin has always been more than happy to deliver. It has become a part of him, in fact. He doesn't even chew with his mouth open even when he's among the boys, anymore.
It has, somewhat, made him practical and less emotional in life, too, but he doesn't really think of it as a bad thing. You have always been practical in life – the most ambitious girl he has ever met, someone that has always prioritized her career and goals over everything else. Seokjin has admired that since college, and has tried to show you that he has similar priorities even if he has had to work on thinking from his mind more than his heart.
But when you are already by his side, what does he even need his heart for, anymore, when it's already yours?
Now, looking at you sitting with a morose expression on your face as you give him the cold shoulder, Seokjin is just as much in love with you as he was when he first met you.
“Stuff,” you say with a shrug, after some extended silence. “You should know about that, right? Your schedule’s always busier than mine and I never complain.”
Your sharp words have him reeling. Whatever do you even mean by that? “Uhm, okay. Fair enough. But… did you really not have the time to respond to a single text?”
“It gets impossible sometimes, Jin, you know how it is.”
Seokjin frowns. He does know that, but he doesn’t feel okay. Something is very off with you. It is as if you’re saying something else and expecting him to discern a different meaning out of it. 
He doesn’t understand why, though. You, of all people, should know how terrible he is at decoding signs.
He sighs.
Seokjin, after his conversation with Jimin yesterday, had decided to ask you about the morning’s incident, head on, whenever you called him back. But you didn’t, and this is the first opportunity he’s had to talk to you, so he decides to bring it up, now. “What—what happened yesterday morning, babe? You got really mad and stormed off, and… I mean, you’ve got to know the girl had been Jimin’s companion for the night, right? You know him, how he is!”
You say nothing, hands tightening a bit on the steering wheel. Seokjin looks down at his own hands.
“You know I was only surprised at your words because we really do not have the time to be discussing silly things." He shuts his heart down when it tries to tell him to go soft. He knows it isn't something you would appreciate. "After five years, you know what I’m capable of right? You can never start getting ideas, because that would be insane and stupid. I’m already so supremely occupied as it is between two jobs, when would I even have the time to cheat, right?” he jokes, snorting to himself.
You’re still quiet, but your tongue comes out to moisten your lips. It is a nervous tick of yours which Seokjin recognizes very well, because with your skincare and scheduled regular application of lip balms, your lips never need the extra moisture.
He frowns. Was he too straightforward? But this is exactly how you communicate with him! “Hey, is everything okay, babe?”
You exhale, noisily. “Everything’s fine, Jin,” you finally say with a roll of your eyes. “And you’re right. I know you wouldn’t cheat. You don’t have the time to chat me up, how are you gonna pick someone new to impress, huh?” 
Your snort sounds lacking in humor, but Seokjin still gives a couple of stilted chuckles. Even so, he's still somewhat relieved. “Right. Just so we’re certain, that was a joke, right? I mean, it would be really ridiculous of you to think that I would—”
“Yes, Jin!” you cut him off with a deep frown. “If I wanted to talk to you about something, or accuse you, or confront you — I’d do that without you having to prompt me. Stop obsessing over yesterday and stop trying to explain yourself. I know it was Jimin’s doing.”
Seokjin feels immensely relaxed at the conviction with which you say the last sentence, certainly, but something is still off. “Why were you ignoring me, then?”
“I just didn’t have anything to say to you.” You stop at a red light, the last one before you reach the restaurant, and turn to look at Seokjin with really vacant eyes. He doesn’t like your stare one bit. “We’ve been together five years, babe. If neither of us have got anything of significance to say, I’d rather not text too much, if that’s okay with you? I’ve got a busy schedule to work around, too, you know?”
Seokjin wants to remind you that both of you had something of significance to say after you left his place in anger, but chooses to just roll with whatever you’re playing at. Maybe he's thinking too much. He nods. “Sounds alright to me.”
“Great,” you breathe out, somehow looking disappointed along with the preexisting sorrowful expression you had on your face.
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You really do not have a concrete explanation for why you acted the way you did with Seokjin, this morning. 
You were supposed to hint at being mad, not blatantly try to give him a taste of his own medicine. It could turn out to be a good thing if he eventually starts to miss you and reaches out, sure, but playing mind games never feels right to you. But when he started to joke about not having time to cheat, and something just turned off in you. He really could’ve seriously reassured you of his love. That would’ve been actually comforting. But no. He chose to joke about that, too. You didn’t feel like putting in all that energy anymore, after that.
Now, you sit down in the break room to check your phone during your ten minutes’ rest break. A text message floats at the top of your notifications.
Jax 🚽 Hey How’d it go?
With an exhale, you decide to call him back. Your fingers are too tired to type, and Jackson is sure to launch off into a rampage of texts the moment you tell him you’ve tried to turn the tables on Seokjin.
Seokjin is in the kitchen, his usual rest break not being for another hour, so you don’t have to worry about him walking in.
“Hey!” Jackson jovially greets you as soon as he picks the phone. “Did you get my text?”
“I did, yes,” you respond in a calm voice. “I’ve been looping milkshake mugs through my fingers since eight am, they needed some rest, so I decided to call.”
“Yeah, no, it’s cool. I was in a really boring class, anyway. So. How'd it go?"
You pull in your lip between your teeth. "I… I kinda ended up telling him I am a busy person too and that we shouldn’t text that much."
You hear silence instead of the outburst you'd expected. 
"Jax?"
"Are you actually gonna try to play a mind game with the dumbest human being you know on earth?" Jackson so very eloquently asks, his interpretation making you pinch the bridge of your nose. “He’s never even gonna figure it out!”
“I know how it sounds, okay?” You exhale. “I honestly don’t know what came over me.”
“Okay, alright, one thing at a time. So, no coddling?"
"Not a single soft word. Just more expectations of me understanding, and claiming that anything but that would be stupid of me. He acts like I'm supposed to know everything about him and everyone in his group of friends," you mutter in irritation. “As if those dumbasses know the first thing about themselves.”
You realize you're being a bit harsh, because his friends – basically your younger brothers, at this point – are a bunch of clueless idiots that love, adore and respect you. You shouldn't be badmouthing them, Seokjin’s growing callousness towards you isn't their doing. It's his own. 
You sigh. You really miss how things used to be when you were in college.
“Uh, I think we need to rewind a bit. What happened? What triggered this?”
It makes you smile a little when Jackson asks that. At least your best knows you’re not wholly clinically insane. “Well… I drove him to work. He…" your brows lower at the recollection, "he was the first to bring up yesterday morning. And yet again, he gave me the same you've got to know this and that crap, and then he tried to assure me in the dumbest possible way. Do you know what he said, Jax, do you?”
“Um, do I wanna know?”
“He said, and I quote, he doesn’t have the time to cheat. Jackson Wang, are you hearing this? He really straight up said he was too busy to cheat on me and so I should rest assured! Who says that?!”
“He must’ve meant it as a joke—”
“Yeah, he said that, too, and then very immaculately added that it’d be ridiculous of me to think otherwise. I have lost count of how many times the words ridiculous and stupid came up.”
“Goddammit.”
“Goddammit is right,” you mumble, morosely resting your head on your palm.
“What did he say, by the way? When you told him to text less?”
You give a wry chuckle. "Well, he said it sounded alright to him."
"Son of a bitch. You – you two are messed up, man. Messed up bad. Why the hell can you not just say shit you really mean and actually want to instead of saying shit you don't? You don't wanna text less because you're busy, you want him to dote on you because you miss him!" Jackson sounds beyond frustrated. "And it doesn't fucking sound alright to him! It sounds scary, it sounds confusing, it sounds like something you would never say to him!" He groans. "But none of you would say that shit to each other! You’re choosing to be evasive and fucking plastic instead of honest, and falling deeper into your mess."
You reel from the onslaught of his harsh words, eyes widened and breath stuttering. Jackson isn't usually the type to pay so much attention to your relationship problems. But this time, you guess, he has garnered the depth of your unhappiness and thus has gotten so involved.
You realize he is right. Nothing good can come out of any turned tables, because Seokjin is, anyways, not even going to be able to work out the problem by himself. He may even go around talking to his friends about how you were being cold with him and not giving him any time, and still not realize he has been doing the same to you. He is thick like that. 
When his friends tell you tales of his compassion, you're unable to relate. You've never seen that side of him. He has probably grown up from that emotionally overwhelmed high school graduate who had made friends on a whim, the night of his graduation.
You certainly don't appreciate the emotional abstinence, though, and would very much rather prefer if he would open up a bit more. It would help you be more open with him, without fearing him calling you "stupid" in response.
But it’s still alright, you accept him with that thick brain of his, because he’s still only ever going to be the only one for you.
"How are you two gonna get around to having a proper chat if you just keep building more walls between you both?" Jackson asks after the long pause from your end, this time softer. “I’m sorry, babe, I was wrong. Giving him signs and making him realize shit won’t work. It was stupid of me to suggest that. It’s probably why you ended up being so caustic with him.
“No, no, it was all me, Jax. I could’ve chosen to not listen to you, but my ego got in the way, I guess. It’s not exactly easy, telling your boyfriend you’re feeling neglected. I mean, what if he laughs in my face and tells me I’m being paranoid? What if he thinks I have no regard for his career — or mine — because my priorities don’t align with his?” You bite your lip, shutting your eyes as your insecurities attack you.
“Hey, no. None of that is gonna happen if you really share with him what you’ve been feeling. No hints, no sarcasm, you’re gonna have to tell him point blank. Allow yourself to be raw. He’s the love of your life. You don’t have to protect yourself from him, right?”
You sigh. “Yeah, I know. You’re absolutely right, Jax. But I really have no idea how to even approach him, at this point. He’s either too busy with shoots, or with the guys, or some meeting. I cannot do this on call, because that always leads to misunderstandings.” You bite down on your lower lip, contemplating. “But I’ll figure something out.”
"Yes, you will. You always do. So, that’s good then. In the meanwhile, can you at least clean up this latest pile of poop? The talking less thingy is gonna make you two more distant, hun."
You scrunch your nose at his metaphor, but then your shoulders slump. "I don't know, Jackson. The way he so impassively agreed to it would make me sound really stupid if I take it back. And given what he keeps saying, he really doesn’t want me to sound stupid."
Jackson gives a snort at that. “Hah, funny. But listen. At the end of the day, he’s your boyfriend. You're gonna have to really decide if you're trying to get your boyfriend to give you more love, or if you're fighting a battle of egos and would like to bend him to you."
You bite your lip. “You make me sound manipulative.”
“You yourself confessed you let your ego come into this, one time. Don’t let that happen again. I’m trying to make you realize that complicated problems can have simple solutions, too. If only you’d communicate. Just talk to him soon, please, and make him understand why you’re hurt. Don’t carry on with this stupid cold war, okay? You gotta figure out exactly what you want, first.”
“You know what I want, Jax. You’re literally the only person that does, actually,” you remind him with a sigh.
“Oh, he is, isn’t he?”
You freeze, eyes bulging at the familiar voice. “I’ll… I’ll call you back,” you mumble before you disconnect the call and turn to look over your shoulder at Seokjin’s unreadable face. He stands with his arms crossed, still in his uniform but without the apron. “Jin… what—uh…”
“What am I doing here?” he scoffs, lips curling in distaste as he stares you down. “Well, I was going to the loo when I saw you sitting here. You looked upset, so I thought I’d check in on you on my way back.” He clicks his tongue, a dry chuckle tumbling out. “But apparently, you’ve got other people doing it for you, already.”
You wince, shutting your eyes. The one time he was finally going to give you some much needed attention — you sent a bad message his way. 
“So. Good to know there actually is someone who knows what you want. Would’ve been easier if it were me, though, given how I stand to be the one that is to deliver.” Seokjin sounds pissed off, and despite your irritation, you really want to make him understand.
You rub at your forehead. “Stop talking like that, Jin, it was just Jackson.”
“Wang?” He seems to seethe more, for some reason. “Of course, it’s fucking Wang!”
You frown, standing up. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Seokjin looks at you incredulously. “You—do you not see how this looks? You have problems with me, Honey, but you choose to discuss them with him? Who’s he, your therapist?”
“He’s my best friend, Jin, someone I trust,” you grit out.
Seokjin seems to take it the wrong way, his agitated expressions slowly fading into a blank stare. “Oh. You trust him, as opposed to…” He trails off with a shrug, but the implication is as obvious as it can be.
“Jin—”
He raises a hand up, palm facing you as he looks away. “If you need some time apart, you should tell me in plain words. You know I’m not good at reading signs.”
Seokjin gives you a blank stare before turning around to leave the area. You stand rooted to your place, jaw dropped and eyes wide.
Some time apart? Has he lost his mind? 
He really is a huge freaking idiot who cannot pause to think what implications his words have. He seriously doesn’t recognize what all his “don’t be ridiculous/overdramatic/stupid” speeches do to you. You realize you should really make him understand. This has gone on for way too long.
But maybe you should take some time to yourself to cool off before that. You don’t want to say the wrong thing in your rage and complicate things further.
You sigh to yourself as you slump back into the bench you were sat on before.
You’d set out to tell your boyfriend you were feeling neglected, but you ended up making him think you want to be apart. How the heck did you get here?
You belatedly recall Jackson's words.
Why the hell can you not just say shit you really mean and actually want to instead of saying shit you don't?
You’re choosing to be evasive and fucking plastic instead of honest, and falling deeper into your mess.
Your usually dumbheaded best friend was right on this one, you realize. You should’ve just talked like a normal human being instead of letting Seokjin’s words get to you and get pissy in retaliation.
You give a weary sigh. 
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Seokjin is grateful for the sudden busyness he’s got on his schedule, or he would explode from all the pent up frustration you have been causing him. 
He realized he wasn’t as upset with you as he was irritated, right after he walked away from you on Monday. He dropped you a text with some excuse of needing to stay back so that he wasn’t forced to ride with you in the car again, and later took the bus home. 
You had told Jackson Wang about what was troubling you, but not him. It made Seokjin feel upset, incompetent and more than a little insecure. Seokjin absolutely hates feeling insecure. Especially about you. You’re the singular most precious entity in his life — not that you are an entity, per se — and anything that seeks to threaten your position in his life or his position in yours, makes him lose his shit.
So it was understandable that he jumped to unfairly disproportionate magnitudes of conclusions that day. When he thought about it, later, he could easily tell that you are just mad at him and not actually contemplating leaving him, not even for a little while. Not that he’d just sit back and have you do that so easily.
Seokjin also hates overthinking, but that is all he did for the entirety of his Monday. 
Monday, though, was the last time he had time to overthink. Life got exponentially busier after that.
Immediately after his shoot on Tuesday, he received his agent’s call and was informed of his jam packed schedule for the remainder of the week. He was pulled into two separate magazine ad shoots on Wednesday, a perfume ad film drank up all of his Thursday, and today, a hair product ad film needed him to report to a sunrise point in the city at the ass-crack of dawn. The sky was still dark when he rode across the city with his agent at nearly four in the morning. 
And now, the afternoon sun beats down on his car as he drives back alone, his agent staying back to tend to some business. Stopping at a red light, he reaches for his spinach smoothie with one hand and his phone with the other. Ugh, he feels beyond tired.
Blearily, he looks down at the device around a yawn, fingers habitually reaching for your chat.
He took a week off from the restaurant and dropped you a text, late Tuesday evening, informing you of the same.
Honey✨❤👸 Hm, kay. Good luck x
Unsurprisingly, that stands to be your last message in his inbox. It’s been four days.
Sighing, he swipes a hand down his tired face and exits out of the message app. He went to bed at nine o’clock, last night, and owing to the way he has trained his body to sleep on command, he did manage to get a sleep of nearly six hours, too. But it was fitful and plagued with nightmares featuring you. 
Knowing he doesn't have to be at the restaurant until Monday and that his next gig isn’t until Wednesday, he cannot wait to get back home and drink his weight in alcohol before he sleeps his way through the weekend.
Just as he has moved past the intersection, his phone rings. 
Honey✨❤👸 calling...
He nearly spits the smoothie he just sipped at.
Coughing, he roughly jostles the plastic cup back in the holder and pulls up to a side of the road to pick up the call. “Hey,” he breathes into the phone, embarrassed at his desperation.
“Jin. Um, hi.” You sound awkward, as if you…have been compelled to call him due to some reason.
He is immediately worried. “Honey? Is everything okay, do you need something?”
He hates himself for being so concerned when you have been neglecting him for so many days – yet again, despite your spat at the restaurant – instead of finally talking to him about what’s bothering you, but he can’t help it. At the end of the day, you are the love of his life. 
“Yes, yes, I’m okay. It’s just, um. Can you pick me up from the restaurant?” you sound nervous.
But, Seokjin realizes, I was right. You do need something. He clears his throat. “Uh, okay, I guess,” he agrees before stopping short when he realizes the time. “Wait, it’s barely even two. Why are you leaving?” he asks, confused and a little concerned. You work your shift till five every day and till eight on weekends.
“Tomorrow is Halloween, Jin. We’re closing for the weekend, remember?”
Seokjin’s mouth falls open on a gasp. He really had forgotten. “Oh. Oh, okay. Yeah, I’ll be there in five, wait up.”
He swerves the car into the lane and takes off in the direction of the restaurant. 
He laughs at himself. He has been so caught up in work that he literally forgot Halloween. He wonders if this is what actual adulting is.
He is stopping before the restaurant within three minutes of your phone call, eyes immediately spotting your delicate figure standing on the sidewalk with your hands crossed against your chest.
You step down from the curb when you spot his car, and walk towards him. He watches your elegant legs as they beautifully fall in a straight line. Even when exiting your job as a waitress, you’re every bit the elegant model he met in college. Your hips sway tantalizingly, and something akin to longing swirls in his chest.
He composes himself quickly when you cross the car to get into the passenger’s seat. You awkwardly clear your throat as Seokjin busies himself with starting the vehicle, unsure if he should initiate conversation.
“Um, sorry about this. You were probably getting ready for shoot,” you finally say. “Byulyi dropped me off today. She wasn’t picking her phone up. I was trying to get a cab for half an hour. And the bus stop’s really far—”
“Hey, stop. It’s okay. You should’ve called me sooner.” Seokjin catches your apprehensive gaze on his oversized hoodie when he chances a glance at you. He sighs. “I was returning home from shoot, actually.”
He feels you stiffen, and he feels even more mentally drained at this. You used to be updated with his schedule to the tee — just short of having an actual copy of the calendar his agent carries on him. And the same goes for him with your schedule. This feels so wrong.
You are quiet for a while, your hands fidgeting in his peripheral vision.
“How—how was it?” you finally say, voice coming out like a croak.
Seokjin shrugs his shoulders. “The usual. Blinding, tiring, exhaustive. I did okay, I guess.”
He feels your gaze snap up to drill holes into his skull. Your eyes are wide when he checks. “Okay? Since when do you do anything less than amazing at shoots, babe?”
He feels endeared at your casual use of a pet name. “I had to get up at three in the morning and go through a skincare routine. Then drive across the entire city to get to the location, because they wanted to capture actual sunrise. I was more tired than excited by the time they rolled cameras, so.” He shrugs. “Can’t really say I gave my best today.”
You nod at his admission. 
Seokjin almost jumps when his phone rings, again.
Jiminie calling...
He feels you shift in your seat. His mouth sours at the reminder of that Sue girl that started off this entire tussle between you and him. Fucking Jimin and his conquests. What happened to the shy and more than a little glum looking freshman he let into his living space, three years ago?
Your hand suddenly reaches forth to accept the call, putting it on loudspeaker, immediately. Seokjin gapes at you, momentarily looking away from the road. 
“Uh…hyung?” Jimin’s confused voice echoes in the car. 
Seokjin snaps out of his daze when you gesture towards the device. “Wh—Jimin, hi, what’s — what’s up?” he stumbles his way through a haphazard greeting.
“Hyung, I needed a favor. Are you on your way back from the shoot, right now?” Jimin asks, and Seokjin sees you freeze in your seat.
He feels a perverse sense of satisfaction. Yes, take that! Park Jmin knows of my schedule better than you do! This is what you get for ghosting me! “I was, yeah. What is it?”
“Oh, great! I kinda need your help, hyung. My tire gave out. Could you pick me up from the Kappa hall?”
Seokjin scowls. “Yah! Who am I, your butler? Hop on a damn bus!”
He notices you pursing your lips, no doubt finding his agitation humorous — you always do. 
“Hyu~ng,” Jimin whines. “I would take the bus, but the next one leaves in forty-five minutes and I need to be back within an hour!”
“What? Why?”
“I started on my sem project really late, hyung, and now I gotta spend any time I can spare at the rehearsal hall. I’m meeting a choreographer here in an hour. Please help me out!” Jimin is still whining, and maybe his reasoning is kind of alright, but—
Seokjin is tired to his bones. He literally cannot drive all the way down to your apartment and then drive back to the university campus to pick Jimin up.
He sighs, wearily. “Jimin… I’m really tired.” 
“And I’m really desperate, hyung! Dancing is tough! And the subject I've chosen, tougher. I haven't done ballet since first semester, Freshman year! I have to work my butt off and be done in under two months."
Seokjin exhales, feeling beyond exhausted. But then your finger is tapping on the screen and the call has been muted. Seokjin’s surprised eyes fly up to meet yours. You look conflicted, biting down on your lower lip as you shake your head with a frown.
“You should go home and rest, Jin. Leave the car with me, I’ll pick him up.”
“Hyung? Say something?”
Seokjin blinks. “You…”
You roll your eyes. “I’ll pick him up, yeah. He’ll drop me off and drive back to your place.”
“Hyung?! Did you put me on mute, or what? I can't hear a thing!”
“Tell him you’ll be there in ten!” you say, unmuting the call.
“I’m in the car, the network must have glitched. I’ll, uh… be there in ten?” Seokjin nervously finishes off, looking at you in question. You give him a nod, blinking slowly. “Wait up, okay?”
“Oh my God, thank you so much, hyung!” Jimin practically squeals through the phone. “I’ll be in the ice cream shop across the building. I love you, hyung-nim!”
Seokjin rolls his eyes and disconnects the call. He looks at you from the corner of his eyes as he takes a right, now moving in the direction of his apartment instead of yours. “You sure about this? Jimin, um, knows. About our…” Seokjin doesn’t want to call it the f-word, because he would like to believe that you two aren’t actually fighting. “You being upset, I mean,” he settles for the easier alternative. “He might ask questions.”
You give a small huff of wry laugh. “I can handle it, Seokjin. I’ve known Jimin for almost three years now.”
Seokjin doesn’t like it when you address him by his full name. And so, his lips remain pursed for the remainder of the ride, only parting to tell you to “drive safe and text me when you finally get home,” and then he walks inside his apartment without looking back.
He hears his car come to life and then speed away. He shuts his eyes, leaning against the kitchen counter. Gathering his emotional as well as physical bearings, he opens the refrigerator to rummage through some leftovers to munch on while he breaks out a six pack of Budweiser. 
Before his fried rice has even reheated, Seokjin groans at the sight of an all too jovial Hoseok entering the kitchen with a glint in his eyes. “No, Hobi. Not now.”
“What? I didn’t say a word, hyung!”
Seokjin winces, shutting his eyes just as the microwave beeps. “I don’t have enough energy to deal with your general aura, right now,” he mumbles, extracting the piping hot glass bowl. He leans down to open one of the compartments beneath the kitchen table to get to the beer that he’s been dreaming of for nearly an hour, now. “I’m dead on my feet and—woah!” Seokjin gasps, cutting himself off.
Hoseok hops into the kitchen, coming around to stand behind Seokjin. “So you found ’em,” he says around a chuckle.
“Found ’em? This is you?” Seokjin whips his head around to glare at Hoseok up from his crouch. “Why is my liquor closet resembling a liquor shop, Hobi? Why do we have all this—” he turns around to read the labels, cursing under his breath. “Why do we have,” he pauses to count, “five bottles of Tequila and eight bottles of Vodka?”
Hoseok frowns in concern. “Eight? There should be ten, hyung, check again.”
Seokjin actually gasps, this time. “What the hell, Jung Hoseok? Explain yourself before I start throwing hands!”
Hoseok smacks a palm against his forehead, taking Seokjin by surprise, yet again. “Tonight’s the Halloween party, hyung! Did you actually forget?”
Seokjin screws his eyes shut, letting his head roll back with a frustrated whine. “No~o, don’t tell me it's tonight. Halloween’s tomorrow, right? Why is the party tonight?”
“Yes, hyung, Halloween in tomorrow, which is why it would be stupid to hold the party when Halloween is ending.”
Seokjin finds the logic to be very severely flawed, but his energy is draining out fast and he cannot keep up with this quarrel. There’s no point, anyway. He’s known about this party for nearly a month. And Hoseok isn’t going to postpone a whole party just because Seokjin is tired.
“You look tired, hyung. You should rest. Recharge yourself before the party, okay? There’s plenty of time.” Hoseok pats Seokjin on the shoulder with a kind smile.
“I’m not even in the mood to party, Hobi,” Seokjin mutters, reaching behind all the glass bottles to extract his pack of cans. 
Hoseok scowls at Seokjin. “Because you’re upset about your fight, I realize that. All the more reason to party, hyung! Take your mind off it for some time, why don’t you? You don’t even have to dress up, come as yourself.”
“I’d rather just drink myself to sleep and not wake up for the next twenty four hours.”
Hoseok blocks his path as Seokjin moves to exit the kitchen. “Is Honey coming?”
Seokjin sighs, shrugging his shoulders. “I don’t know, Hobi. Did you invite her?”
“No, hyung, because you said you would.”
Seokjin clicks his tongue. He completely forgot. “Then she isn’t coming.”
Without listening to his protests, Seokjin trudges upstairs with his food and beer. He will be forced to come down for at least a couple shots, he is certain, so he better make as much of the time he has on his hands as he can.
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These days, it seems to be becoming a pattern for you to do things without really understanding why you do them. 
You nibble at your bottom lip as you recall how gaunt and pale Seokjin had looked when you sat in the car. You had been really self-centered as it is, not really keeping in touch with him for four days, and then reaching out when you needed help. You couldn’t bear to think, on top of everything, that he had driven you home despite his extreme exhaustion while you sat back selfishly and let him drive around the city to pick Jimin up when he looked like a ghost.
You shake your head at yourself as Jimin jogs down the road to enter the car, ten seconds after you texted him. 
His gaze is slightly hesitant when he meets your eyes, even though his smile is nothing but genuine. “Hello, noona. How come you are…” he trails off, gesturing around the two of you.
You start the car, shrugging one shoulder. “Seokjin came to pick me up. Now you’re gonna drop me off.”
Jimin gives you a huge smile, before his eyebrows suddenly lower. You look away, veering onto the road. “Wait. Were you in the car with him when I called?”
You chuckle. “Yes.”
“Oh,” Jimin mumbles around a small laugh.
You hum to yourself as you drive, distracting yourself from the thoughts that keep encircling your head. Seokjin is your boyfriend, no matter how mad you might be at him — you love him and care about him. Which is why you have tried to help him out. Not to mention, you felt slightly guilty, as it is, about calling him to pick you up. Why is your gesture of goodwill bothering you, then?
This is what you do for people you care about. Seokjin would do the same.
Your train of thoughts suddenly comes to a screeching halt.
Would he? Would he, really?
“You okay, noona?”
You jolt back from your thoughts, wide eyes turning to look at Jimin. “Wha—yes, yeah, I'm fine.”
He cocks an eyebrow at you. “You’re gripping the wheel really hard.”
You look at your tightly clenched fists, and immediately ease them. “Oh, uh. Sorry. A lot on my mind, I guess.”
“Understandably,” Jimin mutters, looking out of the side window when you turn to look at him.
You purse your lips and press down on the accelerator. 
A few beats of silence pass between you two before Jimin clears his throat. “Can I say something?” he asks you in a soft voice, looking nothing like the seductive persona he puts forth to get ladies falling in his bed. 
You exhale. “Sure.”
“You, um. You are not just hyung’s girlfriend, you know?” he says slowly.
You scoff. “Of course, I do. I am also the very best server my restaurant has ever seen and the best struggling model you’ll ever meet, on the side.”
Jimin snorts, before giggling with his eyes closed. “You know that’s not what I meant.”
You do. But you do not want to face it. You want to be selfish, for once. You do absolutely know that you have been ignoring all the boys in your anger at Seokjin, but you absolutely do not wish to do anything about it. Not until you’ve resolved this tense air between you and Seokjin.
“You are also a part of our little family,” Jimin quietly finishes.
You suck your lips in at that. The word “family'' really gets to you. 
He’s right, isn’t he? 
All eight of you — well, nine, now, with the addition of Taehyung’s girlfriend — have been a family since the day you met these guys.
You smile as the memories start to filter in.
You had had a giant crush on Seokjin since the very first time you saw him in your Freshman year. Well, having a crush on the guy wasn’t that unheard of given how handsome he was. It also helped matters that he modelled for the cover page of your university’s journal within his first month in college. What surprised you was his reciprocated interest when you both finally got to know each other, thanks to Byulyi. Your current roommate was majoring in photography back then, and somehow roped the two of you into modelling for her portfolio. Seokjin asked you out during the sixth month of your Freshman year.
You recall being introduced to Yoongi in your Sophomore year, when he entered your college as a Music major. You found him laid back, calm but really sassy, and fun to be around. The three of you often hung out together, and you took immense pleasure in singling Seokjin out with the two of your sarcastic back and forths.
In your senior year, Hoseok transferred to your college as a Sophomore, and Taehyung and Jimin entered as Freshmen. 
Hoseok was literally the most lively person you’d ever met in your life. There wasn’t a single moment of boredom next to him. He was easily given the responsibility of planning all your outings and parties, henceforth — a position he still holds with full competence.
Taehyung was usually found to be lost in his head more often than not in his initial college days. He was confused about his major for two entire semesters. With inputs from the group, when he eventually picked Art, he eased into college life. After that, he came out to be one of the weirdest and unwittingly funny guys in the group. You still don’t get how he was the first amongst all the boys to find him a girl.
Jimin was a really quiet and reserved individual, at first. He very rarely interacted with you all, choosing to stay holed up in his dorm room, instead, that Taehyung had forced him to share with him. You suspected he was recovering from a recent heartbreak. It became evident when he started dating someone within a week of getting into college, only to confess it was a rebound when he got dumped. The whoring around that began after the whole debacle is yet to cease, though. Obviously. 
Hoseok comes from a really well-off family, and had brought along with him the four-bedroom apartment he currently resides in with Yoongi, Jimin and your boyfriend. His uncle gave it away to him, rent-free of course, and he proposed to share it with the rest of the guys. Seokjin and Yoongi were immediately on board, more than eager to leave the chaotic dorm life behind. Taehyung, contrarily, decided he wanted to get the whole college experience and refused to quit the dorms. Jimin, then, left the dorm he shared with Taehyung to move in with the elders.
You met Jungkook immediately after your graduation on the boy’s eighteenth birthday. He instantly struck you as a smart kid, really good at singing as well as art. Yoongi disclosed he wanted to be a music major in your college, and you tried to encourage Jungkook about it, but the guy could hardly even look at you. It was cute but also hilarious how much he was scared of Seokjin, and by principle, you.
You believe that is still true. Now that you think about it, you're pretty sure you haven’t seen Jungkook ever actually relax around the two of you.
“Noona?”
You blink, coming back to the present as Jimin calls out to you. You take a deep breath, the memories hitting you with tender emotions. All these people are really precious to you, aren’t they? The bunch of you really are a family, aren’t you?
A sad smile swims up to your face. You miss the boys.
When he calls again, you turn to look at Jimin, questioningly. 
“Please don’t be mad at hyung,” he slowly says, looking down at his lap. In this moment, he looks quite unlike the Jimin you are used to and reminds you of, instead, the one you’d first met. “He might lack tact, sometimes, but he really loves you a lot. You’re his whole world. Whatever it is that you are angry about, you should tell him about it. I don’t think he would be able to figure it out by himself.”
This, you agree with. “I’ll try, Jiminie.”
“We all miss you. Especially Hobi hyung and I,” he says with a lopsided excuse of a smile. 
You resist the urge to fluff his hair. Jimin and Hoseok have been like the younger brothers you never had. You miss them, too. 
He suddenly chuckles. "And Yoongi hyung hides it well, but I think he's the one that misses you the most. No one helps him roast Jin hyung quite like you do."
You roll your eyes. "Of course not. It's a waste for Yoongi to even try to find a better partner at roasting Jin."
You spot your apartment building and pull up to it. 
“I’ll try to talk to Jin as soon as I can, Jimin, I promise. Don't worry so much about it,” you say as you step out, patting the boy once on his head. "I miss you all, too."
You give a small wave and faint smile to him as he drives away.
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tagging: @shrimpmsg​
note: so! a lil bit of backstory and the infamous halloween party - how we feelin’ so far? the next part is ~12k words, too, and i’ll post it next wednesday, wait around~ 😘💕
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SECOND PART OUT NOW: read here!
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© jimilter | 2021
444 notes · View notes
lebrookestore · 3 years
Text
the one; l.ty
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Pairing: Lee Taeyong x reader
Themes: exes! au, best friends to nothing, exes to nothing, college! ish au because they’re graduating, the angst is a very subtle type but its still pretty heavy
Warnings: unrequited love, heavy angst, mentions of kissing and food (ice cream)
Wc: 1.6k
Playlist: the 1 by taylor swift, closure by taylor swift, 2 kids by taemin, dancing after death by Matt Maeson
Authors note: this is a deleted scene from my fic, favorite crime! (which you should go read. please lmao but also because it will give this story even more context) i have altered it so it sort of works as a oneshot? Anyways, I hope you like it<3
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You know the greatest loves of all time are over now
~
When you’re younger, you’re told to live your life to the fullest, to enjoy your youth. You’re seen as naive and and wide eyed at the world around you. When you’re younger you’re allowed to make those stupid mistakes and mess up, because people look past them.
But some mistakes, everyone but yourself can look past. These type of mistakes could haunt you for the rest of your life with every little thing you do. The what ifs.
And when you’re young, even though you have so much of your life left to enjoy, you can’t ever go back and fix them. They were permanent, like a life long promise, or a tattoo inked into your skin. You would never be able to escape them, even if you moved on.
At age twenty one, standing in front of your full length mirror donning your graduation cape, you had already made one of these mistakes, and it weighed you down everyday, simply because the reminder of it all was just a window away.
You glanced through your window, seeing him there, doing the same thing as you were, trying to adjust his tie. If you hadn’t been so stupid, then the two of you would have been getting ready together, you would be the one tying his tie and he would be the one teasing you about how your your cap was too big for you.
You let a smile brief your lips, before looking away. Even though you were no longer staring at him, you knew exactly what he was, the image burned into your mind. Bleached blond hair still messy no matter how much he tried to tame it, his bright eyes that seemed to hold the universe and that intoxicating smile.
Your biggest mistake was falling in love with the boy who never loved you back.
And how you had fallen, hook, line and sinker for him. Taeyong was the object of your affections, your best friend- well former best friend. That was where your mistake came in.
You foolishly let it happen, a relationship of sorts with him. At first, it was everything you had ever wanted, but that slowly started turning into a nightmare you wanted to wake up from. Sometimes you still wonder if you’re in a nightmare.
The two of you worked so well together, because you had known each other since you were four. He knew all your flaws, had seen you at your worst and at your best. You would have never thought he would be the cause of one of your worst moments.
But Taeyong, he wasn’t in love with you, but rather, was infatuated. Infatuated with the idea of love and loving you. Once he figured that out, he did the right thing and told you, effectively breaking up with you.
You lost your best friend and lover all at once. It was painful being around him, because you were still in love with him. He had been your everything, and now you had nothing at all. He slipped through your fingers like sand on a beach.
You hadn’t talked to him since that night he told you the truth. You made an effort to not look at him through your window, because it would just break your heart more. You had never known what it was to be heartsick until you experienced it yourself, and extremely violently.
He didn’t push it either, giving you your space. And while this helped you heal, it also felt so wrong. From spending almost every moment together, to spending no time at all, your lives had completely changed.
For some, love was a breeze, it gave them a fuzzy warm feeling that they wanted to hold onto forever. For you, love hurt like a bitch.
You couldn’t help but think about what could have been, if he had actually loved you. Or if you never indulged in what you wanted and just stayed friends. Sometimes- no, all the time, you wished that had happened instead. You were fine with loving him quietly.
Another part of you, the more selfish part, wished he never realized he didn't love you. You would have been fine living that way, but that was only thinking about yourself. You deserved to know, and he deserves that freedom.
What if?
Falling into love is easy, especially with someone like Taeyong. He was the most beautiful guy you had ever seen, with the kindest heart you could think of. You had fallen when you were merely seventeen, still in high school.
No, it was the falling out of love part that was harder. After loving someone for as long as you had loved him, you couldn't imagine ever loving anyone else. The sheer thought of it didn't make sense to you.
So what if you were still with him, what if you never lost him. What if he was still your best friend through thick and thin?
Snapping out of your thoughts, you made one last adjustment to your graduation cap and sighed, scanning yourself over in the mirror. Deeming yourself presentable, you walked out of your apartment, jogging down the stairs of the building and reaching the ground level.
You were hitching a ride with your friend Ryunjin, who was arguably the world's worst driver but you didn't really have a choice. If you did, you would be going with Taeyong, but well, that wasn't going time happen.
You yourself couldn't drive, simply because you were too scared of accidently killing someone. Taeyong had even tried to teach you how to drive when the two of you were dating, but it was discovered that you were probably even worse than Ryunjin.
A few traumatized minutes of the drive to campus later, you found yourself lost in a sea of students that were also graduating with you. Thankfully you had a few friends, but it was still pretty overwhelming.
The ceremony itself was a blur, of you were being completely honest. You saw your friends get called up on stage and receive their scrolls. Ryunjin flashes an awkward peace sign at the principal because she shook his hand, Ten did a happy dance after, and Renjun pretended to click a picture.
You saw Taeyong go up there and receive his scroll, a bright smile on his face, a smile you so loved. You clapped for him, a proud, yet bittersweet smile gracing your features.
And soon it was you up there, and after you had gotten your scroll and take your picture, it had literally turned blurry. You didn’t realize you were tearing up until a wave of emotions crashed over you. You had finally graduated, you were out of this place after four years.
You hated change, despised it even. Now you were thrust out into the world, gone was the familiarity of attending classes and parties with your friends. First you lost your best friend, now you’d probably lose most of your other friends. It wasn’t as if all of you were going to stay in the town, you had first hand experience of this when your friend Yeji graduated the year before and moved away.
You were so young, so naive and yet it felt as if you couldn’t hold on to a single moment long enough. How were you supposed to enjoy your youth then? You were slowly loosing everything.
Sucking in a deep breath, you composed yourself, a laugh escaping you when Ryunjin practically threw herself onto you in a hug of celebration. You quickly wiped your tears so no one saw them, smiling. 
Turning around to talk to another friend, your eyes met Taeyong’s. He was much further away from you, but you knew it was him, you’d always know him. He didn’t break the contact, a small smile appearing on his lips as me mouthed something.
‘I’m proud of you’
You mustered up the best smile you could, repeating the same things silently so that only he would know it. Pressing your lips together pacified, you once again accepted that it was over. You had accepted it so many times, but you had to keep reminding yourself.
With one last look in his direction, you raised your hand up, curling your fingers into a fist before bringing it down to your chest, right over your heart. His smile only grew as he gave you an affectionate wave. Best friends after all, you knew each other like the back of your hands.
And then everyone tossed their caps into the air, as cheers resounded through the hall. Laughter and chattering filled the area, and you knew it would be alright in the end. 
You accepted the fact that Taeyong would haunt all your what-ifs, even as you tried to move on. All the kisses at midnight and late night talks out on your adjoining roofs, the long drives and ice cream dates- it was a thing of the past.
And yes, it still hurt when you recalled all the beautiful things that had happened with your time with him, the way the two of you were so beautiful.
It simply wasn’t meant to be, even if you were still in love with him. Heck, you were sure you’d always be in love with Taeyong, a part of your heart would be reserved for him and him only, but it was time to let go. You weren’t okay right now, but you’d learn to be okay. 
Still, it would have been fun if he had been the one.
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fin.
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Infected/Undead Boyfriend (Ryan Chen) 3 (FINALE)
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Part 1  -  Part 2
Warning: some language. Long chapter ahead!
When It Rains, It Pours Part 3 (FINALE)
It was always raining in November-– or was it now December?
It was hard to tell: the rain had turned harder and harsher, solid ice and snow fell across what was desolate and overgrown lands, where the city life grew smaller, a distant reminder that they still hung in an area. The coating of snow grew harsher the more the days passed, and bitter was its storms and winds to you and your surroundings.
How you managed to get out before losing yourself was an amazement to you and those of your rescuers.
"Hey, five minutes before we depart—you good?"
You blinked lazily, back to the surrounding sounds that were not of the dead crawling and walking on the grounds, of laughter and joy that you had missed and forgotten the sounds of. You remembered where you were: the warmth of the fire spreading across your limbs as you looked up from the floor, a hand in reach for you to take.
Justin was the first and the only one you had really spoken and befriended who wasn't a relative to you, a friend you shared rum and morbid chats with when the two of you were on night duties, staring up at nothing by the sky. He was cute: brown hair and eyes, pretty smile, but he was just another hole filled.
'Okay, okay, humour me with this,' He asked you when the blizzard was raging outside of your camp, the howling winds rattling against the iron doors. 'If you could take anyone with you, in the world, where would you go and with who?'
There was only one name that came to mind that night, the lines of your face creasing as you smiled sadly. 'You'll have to let me think about that one.'
"You good, tiger?" You took his hand as he hauled you up to your feet, dusting away the snow from your worn jeans. "You seem... out of it. You can tell me, I can get someone else to do this if you're not feeling up to it."
"No, it's fine, I'll be out in five." There was a haunting, dreadful pause from Justin, observing you silently when time didn't seem to go any faster, before he nodded, heading out of the hall, his distant figure fading through the groups of crowds waiting.
You gathered your things slowly, fumbling with the leather jacket, dipping your fingers into the deep pockets, fumbling with the smooth edge of the card still occupying it. Never did it seem to lose its feel, thankfully. Get a grip on yourself. You sighed, securing your knife into your boot. Three years... three fucking years and you still mourn.
The snow had settled once you had been brave to face it, crunching satisfyingly under your boots each step you took to the stables, waiting there was Justin and a few others you didn't take time in memorising their names.
"You ready?" Justin asked, strapping more ammo into his backpack. "Help yourself to some more. Heard there's infected up north from here roaming. Potentially they could come down."
"Yeah, thanks." You grabbed a large bar, stuffing it away before paying attention to the black stead you had named Diamond. "Hey, girl. Ready to stretch those legs?"
The beauty snorted almost in reply, a genuine smile gracing your features when you had clamoured up, mentally and physically preparing yourself for the arduous journey that would take place. An hour away from the Jackson base was the Crow's Nest: the barren hub used to scout the area, to keep eye on roaming hordes.  
"The snow has settled, but with it, the dead grow. Watch out for yourselves, keep close to the path and don't stray." Justin gave final warnings before you all set off, the large electric gates of the once well-known powerplant creaked open, a vast, vicious cold greeted you the moment you stepped out.
The journey left you frozen and missing the heat from indoors, reminding yourself why you had gone out in the first place was to get away from everyone, but now you had dearly missed the sweet sight of civilisation creeping back to normal. I can be back and everything will be fine. You told yourself, and you foolishly believed it.
When you finally arrived, there were little dead who had managed to get through the other side of the pen, and taking them out was no issue. The base on top was all but a cosy place: desolate, reeking of decay and too cold. When you finally reached the windows that showcased the cast white outside, did you finally breathe out in somewhat respite.
"See that out there, that's the city you came from, right?" Justin pointed out to what looked like nowhere, but even where the sky and snow met with vast starkness, there was still an outline of a desolate and barren city, broken and crumbling skyscrapers still reaching to the chilling sky.
It was miles out, you realised, but the routes out were like a maze on its own.
"Don't tell me you're thinking of going in there for fun?" You asked, the man beside you rolling his eyes exasperatedly. "You would have to be fucking insane to want to go back in there."
"Even so, what kept you sane?"
The name you so missed to say was on the tip of your tongue, memories that swept through your mind nearly brought you to tears. Maybe, in some reality, the two of you could've been that couple, living out your days in a decaying city, filled with dead, going down as the world would never miss you. But in some ways, it was for the good. You blinked the tears away before any could fall.
"Faith, a hell of a lot of it." The winter sun was dead as well as the last of those memories. "I'm done with it, done for good."
In the distance, when the snow settled quietly, a dull, thunderous cry, followed with the faint sounds of bangs going off, a chorus that never seemed to quieten, only did its cries grow louder and louder, until-
"Infected have made their way into the bunker!"
You turned with Justin in surprise, the thuds of gunshots and its chambers thudded in time with your heartbeat, rousing the adrenaline as you moved like clockwork to make your way back down, back into the darkened, gloomy hallways so narrow it barely fitted enough, but now stood with both humans and dead.
Even war has never looked like this. There were bodies already, a mixture of dead taken down and those who had fallen, bleeding to the ground in puddles, eyes frozen and bodies stiff. "Come with me down to the east wing." Justin guided you away from the onslaught, away from the crowded corridors as the two of you run further away from the noises.
"You know how many they'll be?" You rasped, trying to steady your breathing, the grip on your knife straining your fingers.
"I don't know," Justin answered. "But whatever you do, don't think recklessly. You're a strong fighter, so don't think about dying."
"I could say the same with you." You stopped when you stopped outside the double doors, slightly ajar and smeared blood wiped across the handles and door. "You ready?"
No. You thought. I don't even want to be here. "Yes."
The door was opening wider before you could realise: the noise loud and shrilled, as were the following, inhumane cries and shrieks that followed. Through the darkness of the room: the boiler room, you could see, maybe four or five dead, twitching and grotesque.
And two of them charging towards you both.
Justin made light work of the largest one, leaving you to deal with the other, all snarling and baring its mangled, blackened teeth. You reared back as it did too, causing you to collapse into the wall but not fall, supporting yourself and keeping its head from coming any closer to the flesh of your face or neck.
You struggled for what felt like forever, until you kicked it as far away from you, shoving it into Justin's grip as you charged, using your knife to lodge it into the jellied head, one final cry came before its head slumped, black blood seeping through.
"Good job," Justin let it drop against the wall. "A bit quieter would've been better though."
"Yeah, thanks though." You caught your breath, iron in your throat when you exhaled, feeling like knives stabbing you a thousand times, not helping with the cold of the room. "Shall we continue onwards?"
"We could take down the rest of these- Hey, watch out!"
You turned in time to hear the raucous grunt of something collide into the side of you, causing you to stumble, crashing into the boiler behind you, the wind knocked from you with such force, your vision dotted. "Shit!" Justin shouted from the darkness, and you could hear the struggle, gunshots and more animalistic roars. "Justin! Are you okay?"
"Go! I'll distract it!" You heard his retreating voice, the heavy footsteps follow before you had time to catch the large creature leave, a dreadful smell of mildew and rotting flesh filled your nostrils, almost making you gag.
"Fuck." You grunted to stand, head dizzy, aware that the noises and clicks were coming from the rest of the dead in the surrounding area you shared with them. "Shit!" Quickly, you picked up the blade fallen, dodging the remaining dead as you continued in a haze through to the back of the room, hopping over the wall to get through to the bunker. The sounds of the dead never faltered, sounding all around you and nowhere at all, limbs shaking, clothes drenched not with water.
I'm going to die, I'm going to die—I'm fucked, I'm fucked. You tried to keep moving, but you kept running into dead ends and parts cornered off, leading you to believe that there would be no way of escaping.
Something scampered in your peripheral, large and skinny, you braced for the worst when its shadowed body crawled around in the dark, closer and closer. You pulled your gun out, trying to steady your breathing and keep an eye on it. It didn't move like any of the other dead—perhaps a new one you weren't aware of.
You decided to try and take a shot, the bullet ricocheting off a pipe and exploding with gas, letting out and creating a thick, never-ending mist that you found hard in trying to see through. There was the sound of shoes scraping against the floor, someone running towards you and grabbing you, and you screamed, their face guarded as you tried fighting them off you, away from the floor so they wouldn't have full control over you.
Your fingers gripped the gun, reminding yourself to not let go of it, and you finally- after some struggle- kicked the creature in the stomach, letting it stumble back as you finally tried to take another shot.
In the mist that was fading slowly as you tried to focus, the legs of the figure finally appeared, a full body appearing like someone of a horror film, head turned from you as you squinted to whatever was standing in front of you, your time to take the shot faltering.
"Ryan?"
The lithe humanoid figure was as dishevelled as you could recall once he twisted his torso to look back on you. A distant memory that floated in your mind, of peace and tranquillity, it now stood in front of you as some bitter, warped illusion. He was everything you remembered of him, the same clothes but now wearing a different jacket to the one you still wore in honour, his hair seemed longer, more messy and unkempt, strands pulled out from the bun, guarding his soft, unsteady dark eyes. He looked thinner from the last, a walking apparition whose skin was washed pale and bruised black and blue, his cheeks hollowed and eyebags darkened.
"Oh, god," the grip on the trigger loosened shakily, eyes dotting with sudden tears. "It's you, isn't it? I'm not fucking dream, am I?"
The man didn't seem responsive at first, playing into the belief he was some sort of hallucination after all, but his mouth opened, a quiet voice answering. "Yes, it's me."
The noise that left your parted lips was shaky and warbled, a string of tears flowing down your cheeks when everything slowly fell apart. "Why," your words were twisted and you fumbled clumsily. "Why... why did you leave?"
He was silent, the hard struggle in understanding what he was thinking. He seems… ashamed. You thought, watching his shifting eyes. You watched the pain that didn’t seem to be hidden beyond his eyes, even when he spoke. “… You belonged with them, not me.”
“How would you know that? I—you could’ve come with me, Ryan. We’re an open community, we can help you-”
“No,” his voice was strained, his eyes more red than usual. “I can’t be fixed.” He lifted his black t-shirt, the skin bruised as his face had been, inflamed and almost maimed. “I was bitten.”
“But you didn’t turn.”
“No,” his smile was soft, downturned. “Perhaps turning would’ve been the better option. But I live with these decisions. You need people, not me.”
“Ryan,” you took a hesitant step towards him, still, the tears fell. “Do you know I still think about you? Even after all these years.”
“No,” he laughed silently, his eyes glassy and cold. “I did too. A lot.”
“Please, please come with me. I promise you, we can help you—we could fix you.”
Ryan watched, not showing signs of moving away from you as you slowly made your way to him, outreaching your hand for him to hold. Just… just to hold once more, to feel him again. How you craved it like it was a lifeline.
“I—I can’t describe how I’m feeling right now.” His words were hushed when you were close to him, feeling his breath fan against your wet cheeks. “You don’t have to describe anything,” you murmured. “Just… let it happen.”
He leant into you first, his lips were warm and memories swarmed in your mind like you were drowning. His being, his smell: so sweet and inviting, your memories were swelling and rising, bringing a feeling of levitating, back to a time when you felt loved and needed. Back in his arms in an excluded room, forgotten altogether but in each other’s arms.
When you pulled away, he leant his forehead against yours, warm and damp from cold. “I missed you so.” He muttered softly. You had so many thoughts, too many emotions that everyone argued with things they wanted to say before the other. But the same thing was in your mind, replaying over and over again.
It plagued you, as you took his hand into your own, squeezing as if your life depended on it. “Ryan, I-”
Your words were there, masked and clipped from the noise that came from in front of you, a large reverberating noise that was sharp and rung, smoke appearing as Ryan stumbled forward, allowing you to catch him. He was limp, colder than usual and not from the cold. He was shaking, muttering something in a quiet, weak voice, but you couldn’t hear him, even when you flipped him carefully, seeing his mouth open and close, you looked up in time to witness the devastated eyes of someone you wanted to forget.
“Get away from it,” Justin’s words were followed by him stepping closer between the two of you, gripping your shoulder. “You’re lucky I came in time. I heard gunshots, I got worried-”
“You shot him.” You weakly said, frozen and still holding Ryan, the grip on him still tight and there for him to know you were still holding onto him, keeping him safe.
Justin seemed as confused as he tried lifting you off the ground, “I’m trying to help you, that thing-”
“Stop it. Stop it!” You swatted his hand away sharply, reaching around to hold and stabilise Ryan, the shot to his stomach was bleeding profusely, soaking through your fingertips. “He’s dying, he’s fucking dying.”
“Hey, hey, what—” he said your name, shaking you out of the breakdown. “It’s infected—look at me, what do you mean?”
“I love him, Justin! I know him, I know him! Ryan Chen, he’s not one of them!” You were blubbering and muttering constantly before your eyes landed on Justin’s, wild and red and sore. “Help me, please, I can’t lose him again.”
Justin hesitated once more, before he urged himself forward, peeling the heavy bag from his back to bring out the gauze and wrappings, whilst you sat and remained rigid, and you wished you could’ve stayed where you had been, to begin with.
-
You noticed now, how quiet things could be when you were left with just your thoughts, alone in the world when you pushed so many away. Your fingers were knotted together tightly, wrung together in a tangle when you fidgeted, nothing to distract you from the unknown time ticking.
“Hey, you’re the girlfriend of “Ryan”?”
You looked up to the woman who had come through to greet you in the small waiting room, blinking away your thoughts to be back with the present. “Yeah, yes… how is he doing?”
“He just came out of surgery and is in a stable condition.” Relief was one of the emotions you were feeling, but it was hard to explain anything else at that moment. “You can go in to see him shortly.”
“Thank you.” A gentle hand pressed into your shoulder, squeezing encouragingly. “Hey, he’s gonna be okay. He seems strong.”
“He is,” you uttered sadly. “He’s a fighter.”
-
“Ryan! Take it easy! We’ve got all night!”
Your laughter was bubbling, easy and light, as you were led down the long path, where the trees grew in size and foliage, grew thickest, hiding your bodies as you ran beneath the moonlight. “You’re gonna hurt yourself.”
“We’re almost there.” He was not as out of breath as you had been, but his smile was bright and blooming, skin radiant as if he was reborn. “I’m not dragging you back to get more stitches.” The two of you stopped eventually, continuing at a brisk pace until you reached the end of the hill, watching over the once city the two of you had resided in, distant yet glooming.
“It… it still looks like shit as I remember it to be.” You exhaled, looking over Ryan from your right side. “That place still holds a lot to remember, don’t you think? The outbreak, the deaths, the burning of bodies.”
“I got to meet you.”
“You did,” you squeezed his hand encouragingly. “After I fell through the ceiling. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.” You shared a laugh, all thoughts aside when you stared across the distance. That city did hold some darkness and pain to you, but you knew that you would get out of there, not as one, but as two.
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yourstruly-caycay · 3 years
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Record of Ragnarok imagines part 3
 Poseidon is challenging to write, but here we go!
Poseidon:
You married with him for three years, and you are used to his emotionless face.
"Poseidon!" You excitedly run to him, he turn to you and a bit startle when you immediately hug him.
"What is it?" He ask in his usual emotionless voice. You let go of him, as you avoid his eye contact, pressing your lip while holding your stomach.
You inhale for a while and said in a steadiest voice that's enough for him to hear "I'm... I'm pregnant, Poseidon."
You look at him and yet... no emotion from him being show. "As expected from my husband." You thought, don't know if you would laugh it off or probably a bit irritate that at least show some any slight of emotion.
"I- I just want to tell you about that, that's all you need to know, I'm just gonna take a small walk." You immediately walk faster and out from his room, you knew this will happend and yet you foolishly thought that he might show some slight of happiness.
However, you should’ve stay a bit longer in his room, cause later after you get out from his room. He actually feel something— a certain emotion that he just can’t seem to describe it, his heartbeat beating faster, and for once, he actually have a soft smile— happy and proud that he’ll be a father. But, he went back to reality he sigh and shake his head.
“What is this ridiculous feeling I just show?” he thought.
He actually love you and even care for you, but showing any emotion to you has never happened for once since he think that showing his love through action is enough to let you know.
After that news, he still didn’t show any emotion, but you notice his behaviour toward you; occasionally asking your well-being, prepare a healthy foods for you, also taking care of your illness which is surprising to you that he’s concern for you even though you’re fine and got used to his coldness.
He dislike anyone who touch his wife especially his child, he’ll give them a glare as a warning and if the person ignore it, then they better hide from Poseidon.
you notice that he even been more affectionate or maybe a bit clingy to you, especially in bed where he always hug you or probably touch your stomach.
Yep! you’ve been suspected him that he might be shy to show emotion to you cause you know his pride for being perfect meaning that he won’t show any emotion to anyone, and so you’ve thought something that give you an evident for your theory:
You’ve got an x-ray picture of your baby from the doctor, and plan to give this to Poseidon as well as telling him about the gender of the baby for surprise. Right now, you cuddle with him on bed, “Poseidon, can you please close your eyes for a moment?”
He close your eyes without questioning you, which you didn’t expect it at all. Then, you let out the photo and said, “You can open your eyes now.” 
The first thing he see is a picture of the baby, although the figure of the baby is not really clear. “Surprise! The baby turns out to be a girl; judge from the picture, it seems like she got your eyes and nose, don’t you think?”
He said no word or have any reaction, but he grab the photo and turn his head from you, you can’t fully see his face. But, lucky enough, you able to see his soft smile, his eyes adore the baby. You’re surely not ready for this type of Poseidon, it give you mini heart attack and cause you to blush. You close your mouth to hold the squeal even though he can heard it, “He’s so cute!” You thought.
“Hmph, it’s annoying to hear you squeal near my ear, you know.” 
“Oops, but this is the first time I see you smile-” When you look at his face, you eyes are wide seeing him avoid your eye contact with a blush tainted on his cheek in pouty face, is really hard for him to cover his embarrassment right now since you see him smiling; but you’re blushing harder than him— even worst cause of his cute small pout.
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Day by day, he show a bit of emotion and he only show it when it’s just the two of you, which you’re glad— it’s like a sun shining brightly even if it’s only a few minutes he show it.
Poseidon would have expect his daughter to someday be perfect just like him and he will teach her to be like him one day.
You put the picture of the baby on the table since you really adore it, and sometimes, you caught him looking at the picture.
Ever since that day, the way you see him right now is like he’s an actual husband, he still a perfect god to you, but there’s been a time his affectionate, caring, and love almost make you forgot that he’s a god.
The end :D
There’s one more left and it’ll be a bonus (is actually a request from someone and it relate to pregnancy imagines), I feel really satisfied writing them. (I’m sorry Thor and Shiva 😅, Poseidon seem to have the longest writing than you both maybe is because of the power of love)
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tpwkjerii · 3 years
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strawberry kisses
you and felix have a longstanding tradition of baking the day after finals. usually, it’s the best method of relaxing after long hours of studying. unfortunately, you find yourself rather tense this time — after all, it’s always fun to spend an entire day in a cramped kitchen with your crush, isn’t it?
pairing: lee felix x reader
warnings: fluff and kissing, mild angst, reader likes strawberries (sorry if you’re allergic skdlsd), ex boyfriend (but supportive bestie) minho, reader has low self confidence :(, like two curse words, kisses!!
genre: friends to lovers au, kinda idiots to lovers, mutual pining
word count: 2.9k+
a/n: short fic for Felix hehe
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Your eyes glazed over as you reviewed the last response of your final exam of the term. After two long hours of plugging equations you hardly understood into your nearly-dead calculator and speed-writing to the point where you’re sure you’ve bruised your dominant hand, you finally finished. At lightning speed, you gathered your exam papers and submitted them at the front with a quick prayer to the universe.
A few other students followed your rushed pace out of the large lecture hall, all of you eager to finally get out of the stuffy room.
As you stepped out of the packed hall and into the cooling outdoors, you checked your phone, which was filled with texts from the one person you were trying desperately to get out of your head (and miserably failing at that).
felix (strawberry head) <3
5:23 PM
did you finish your chem final ???
hyunjin and i just submitted our video for our dance performance
your editing was very good btw :D
5:35 PM
y/nnnnn you’re taking forever :(
we’re waiting at the quad for you !!
5:40 PM
*i am waiting at the quad for you
the others got too hungry and left, but i’m waiting for you!
pls hurry it’s cold :[
You bit back a laugh at his texts, his heartwarming tone filling you with a familiar fuzzy feeling. You pushed the feeling aside as you texted a reply.
y/n
5:43 PM
be there in 2 :D
You stifled a smile as you rushed towards the quad. Soon enough, you saw Felix and his bright, red-dyed hair (you first noted that it closely resembled a strawberry). The moment your eyes met his, you felt your heart skip a beat and heat spread across your face. This was the common reaction you’ve had for the past few months whenever you see Felix.
He rushed over to you with a giddy smile and his arms outstretched. Quickly, he barrelled into you and pulled you into a tight embrace.
“You took so long,” he whined, his chest vibrating as he spoke.
“I know, I know. ‘M sorry,” you responded, your voice slightly muffled by his shirt. You took a second to enjoy his hold and the comforting warmth that Felix always provided you whenever he was near. Over the past few years, you’ve grown accustomed to the scent of his sweet floral perfume, the feeling of his tight hugs, and the way he played with your fingers when he was bored.
All the things you were fond of were now extreme nuisances in your life. Not because they were annoying or because you disliked Felix, but rather the complete opposite; you were completely, helplessly, and foolishly in love with him.
“You ready to go?” Felix asked suddenly, breaking you out of your thoughts. He brought his arms down from around you, and you looked down at the ground as you nodded, hoping that he didn’t see the intense blush that was spreading from your face to your neck.
You are so fucked for tomorrow.
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After an entire night of tossing and turning in anxiety, the next day finally arrived. To say you were nervous was a massive understatement.
The minute you woke up, you began to anxiously clean your apartment while your roommate Ryujin laughed at you. As you wiped down every visible crevice, she made sure to pester you about a “missed spot” or tempt you with sweets.
“You’ve never cleaned this much whenever Felix came over before,” she pointed out with a laugh while you wiped down the kitchen counters for the fourth time.
“What do you mean?” you asked, your voice uncharacteristically high-pitched.
Ryujin scoffed. “It is so obvious that you like Felix, there’s no point in lying to me,” she stated bluntly.
Your hand froze mid-wipe on the counter. You looked over at your blue-haired roommate nervously. “Is it really… that obvious?”
“Yes,” she deadpanned.
You winced and dropped your head onto the smooth stone countertop. “Do you think he’s noticed?” you moaned into your arms.
“If he hasn’t, I will personally pay for his glasses prescription.”
You whined again as you lifted your head up to look directly at Ryujin. “If he’s noticed then why hasn’t he said anything?”
She stood up as she answered, “Not sure but you could always ask him today.”
Your mouth dropped in horror at the suggestion. “I can’t tell him how I feel! That would completely ruin our friendship!”
“So you’d rather continue tip-toeing around him and never get a clear answer?” she questioned, her arms crossed.
“Yes.”
Ryujin sighed and started to collect her things. “You can do whatever you want,” she started as she placed her papers in her backpack, “but I recommend you tell him soon.” She stood up and headed for the door. Just before opening it and leaving you alone with your thoughts until Felix arrived, she turned around and said, “I won’t be home until late, have fun.” With that, she winked and walked out of your shared apartment.
You scoffed at her suggestive tone and stood upright to check the time.
10:08 AM
You gasped. Felix said he was going to arrive at 10:30, but knowing him he would be at least 15 minutes early, meaning you only had 7 minutes to get yourself together!
You cursed and rushed to your bedroom. Switching out of your wrinkled pajamas, you opted for a random hoodie you grabbed out of your closet and jeans. After you changed, you made a beeline for the bathroom and fixed your appearance. You quickly brushed through your hair and washed your face, hoping you removed all remnants of your restless sleep.
Just as you predicted, you heard four distinctive knocks on your front door right at 10:15.
“Coming!” you exclaimed as you rushed out of your bathroom.
Right before you opened the front door, you placed a hand on your beating heart and mumbled words of encouragement to yourself. Then, after deciding that you were probably taking too long, you pulled the door open.
Immediately, Felix, covered in a large hoodie and arms filled with large bags of baking ingredients, greeted you with a large grin. Like every other time, you felt your heart skip a beat when you made eye contact with him.
“Hi,” you said simply, a smile on your face.
“Hi,” he responded. He looked you up and down, asking, “Are you wearing my hoodie?” 
You paled and looked down at the large pink hoodie, immediately recognizing it as the one that Felix lent you almost one year ago when he dropped you off at the airport since you forgot yours in the car. Once you got back from your trip, you’d forgotten to give it back to him.
“O-oh,” you stuttered, looking down at the oversized sleeves. “I didn’t even realize,” you continued awkwardly. “You can ha -”
“It’s fine,” he cut you off, the smile never leaving his face. He shrugged. “You look better in it anyways.”
Your mouth dropped and you found yourself unable to respond for a few moments. Felix laughed at your dumbfoundedness and gently pushed you aside to walk into the apartment. Once he set the bags down on the kitchen counters, you returned to your senses and closed the door to walk over to him.
“So, what are we making today?” you asked, trying to keep your voice as level as possible. It wasn’t an easy task to do, considering his proximity to you.
You held your breath as he grabbed your hands and looked into your eyes. “What’s your favorite fruit?” he asked excitedly.
“Er, strawberries?” you answered, tilting your head to the side in mild confusion.
At that, Felix let go of your hands and quickly pulled out a carton of fresh strawberries from one of the bags. You gasped in delight at the sight of the bright fruit and immediately thanked him.
“It’s no big deal,” he responded while sliding the fruits into the fridge. “I’m gonna eat most of the tarts and choco strawberries anyways,” he added with a sneaky laugh.
You scoffed. “You always say that but you always end up giving me the most.” You smirked at him while taking out the baking materials.
“I don’t give it to you,” he countered. “You steal them.”
“Whatever helps you sleep at night,” you told him with a sing-song tone. He laughed from your side, and you swore that you heard actual sparkles, as if he were a fairy, when he did.
You cleared your throat, hoping to rid your mind of distracting thoughts that could be potential problems during the next seven hours that Felix would be at your apartment. “So, master chef Felix,” you started, lowering your voice like a TV show announcer. “What are you going to do first?”
“Well, my fair announcer,” he began, holding up the silicon whisk like a microphone. “I think we should start with preparing the shortbread dough, what about you?”
“Ah, you are the chef. Lead the way,” you responded with a wide smile.
You both laughed together and actually began the baking. Like usual, Felix did most of the work while you played music and assisted from the side. You worked together seamlessly, and soon enough the shortbread cookies were done and strawberry jam cooling to the side.
While you taste-tested the jam, Felix began to whisk the melted chocolate, and you took this time to admire him. You stood at his side, allowing you to admire his side profile.
Felix was easily one of the most beautiful individuals you ever laid your eyes on. But his appearance wasn’t the only part you fell for — he was one of the few people whose inside beauty matched their outside beauty.
Felix was kind, funny, optimistic, and just about every positive adjective you could find in a dictionary. After every failed test, he was there with a cup of strawberry ice cream and a shoulder to cry on. When you landed your first job, he was there to celebrate with you even when your own family wasn’t. And when you and Minho mutually broke up, he was there to give you advice as you coped with the end of your first relationship.
How could you not fall for him?
And sometimes you had the feeling that he liked you back. The touches that would linger for just a few seconds too long, the soft smiles that Chan claimed he only ever gave to you, and his late-night texts all spurned a tiny hopeful fire in you that kept your crush alive.
No matter how many times you tried to get over him and convince yourself that your crush didn’t exist, the tiny voice in your head still spoke. “But what if he likes you back?”
Now, as Felix stood by your side with a soft smile on his face while he whisked the chocolate, that voice screamed louder than ever.
And just as you gained a sliver of courage, the same paralyzing thoughts that have held you back for the past few months returned.
Felix was out of your league in every way. He was social and easily commanded the attention of an entire room with so much as two words. His outward beauty matched his insides, and everyone on campus reached a collective agreement that if angels ever existed and walked among us — Lee Felix was certainly one of them.
And those things were only the tip of the iceberg that is Felix. He was talented, sensitive, supportive, passionate, and everything you could ever ask for and then some.
You then thought back to all the people he rejected - kindly, of course - and how you matched up to them. If Felix didn’t choose to go out with all those beautiful and talented people, what on Earth made you think you would choose you?
At this point, Felix picked up on your sudden silence and how your breaths grew heavy and uneven.
“Are you… alright?” he asked carefully, his own chest beating heavily.
You stared at him, panicked that he caught onto your apprehension. “Um…” you started, trailing off as you met his gaze.
Felix let go of the whisk and grabbed your hands. “You can say whatever you need to.”
“I uh,” you started after a few moments, internally battling yourself to gain courage as you realized that it’s now or never. “I kinda like you,” you admitted quietly, looking down at your intertwined hands anxiously. You waited for him to pull his hand away in disgust and start to kindly reject you like he did to all those other people, but it never came. After a few seconds, his hands still the entire time, you looked up at him with glassy eyes in confusion.
“What?” he finally said, his deep voice softer than ever.
You looked back down at your hands shamefully. “Do I really have to repeat it?” you asked weakly. “I like you, Felix. I have for the past few months and it’s been driving me insane because it feels like my heart’s about to stop dead whenever I see you and I can never think straight when you’re with me. Apparently, it’s been pretty obvious and I really tried my best to get over it so it wouldn’t hurt our friendship.
“Trust me, I really wanted to get over it but I couldn’t, and I know you don’t like me back so it’s ok. I can deal with it on my own and you can just leave a -”
“Y/N,” Felix said suddenly, his voice firm. You looked up, tears rolling down your face as you were sure that he was about to reject you.
“Felix please don’t interrupt me. At least let me finish what I have to say,” you pleaded softly, removing your hands from his.
“Y/N,” he repeated, his voice much gentler. He carefully wiped the tears from your face and took your hands into his again. “Can I say something before you finish?” he requested.
You choked back a sob as you nodded, certain that he was just going to let you down kindly.
“I like you too, Y/N,” he said shyly, a blush spreading across his freckled face.
Your entire body froze.
“I was too scared to admit it because I didn’t think you liked me back,” he continued, the words slowly registering in your mind. “To be honest, I thought you still liked Minho.”
You blushed at his words, thinking back to all the times you would pull Minho, your ex-boyfriend, to the side to talk about Felix these past few months. You didn’t realize how it must have looked to Felix or your other friends.
“I was also… afraid of ruining our friendship, so I’ve just kept it to myself the past two years.”
You gaped at him. “Two years?” you sputtered, causing him to laugh at the way your eyes widened comically. “That’s when we first started uni!”
He shrugged. “What can I say? I was instantly attracted to the way you fought Chan on why you should be allowed to keep the minifridge in your dorm,” he joked.
You blushed at the embarrassing memory, although it wasn’t completely regrettable as it was how you met most of your current friends — including Felix.
“I’m surprised,” you voiced simply. “I didn’t think you would ever like me back.” You breathed out, your muscles relaxing instantly.
Felix grinned again and he moved slowly to envelop you in his arms. He rested his hands on the small of your back and his head on the crook of your shoulder.
“Does this mean that I can take you out on a date?” he whispered.
“Will you promise to stop taking unflattering pictures of me and sending them to me in the middle of the night?” you asked, your head resting against his and arms around him.
He sighed. “Fine,” he answered reluctantly with a whine.
“Then sure,” you responded and pulled your head back to meet his eyes. His eyes shined from the sunlight pouring through the windows and his freckles glimmered like stars across a canvas. Felix was truly beautiful inside and out.
“You have some strawberry jam on your lip,” he said after a few silent moments where you both admired each other.
“Really?” you asked. Your hand moved from his back towards your face, but Felix caught your hand in midair and returned it to its original position.
“I’ll get it,” he murmured with a gentle smile before closing the distance between your lips.
You held your breath as he pressed his soft lips against yours. You instantly recognized the strawberry chapstick he uses and the taste of the shortbread cookies. He swiped his tongue against the corner of your lip, and the sudden sensation caused a shiver to run down your spine.
You brought your hand up to his hair and gently tugged at his dyed locks. Felix brought you closer to him and massaged your back as he deepened the kiss.
When you finally pulled away, your face was burning red and you were completely breathless. Felix was smiling giddily, his arms still around yours.
“I think there’s still some jam left,” he told you, not even giving you a second to respond before he pressed his lips against yours once again. This kiss was much more playful than the last as you giggled against each other in the kiss.
“Did you get it all?” you asked him, your voice reduced to a murmur as he continued kissing your lips.
He hummed, kissing you once and twice in between, before responding, “I don’t think so.”
You laughed against his lips. “Well, I guess you better get it all. I can’t have strawberries stuck on my lips all day.”
He laughed with you, and true to his words, he eventually did get all the strawberry jam off (an extra two hours and an uncountable amount of kisses later).
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lovefoolholland · 3 years
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Gold Rush (TASM!Peter Parker x reader)
Summary: You don’t like the way Peter just makes you blush. It’s unexpected.
Warnings: Lots of fluff.
Author’s note: I’m really thankful for the support I got on my first one-shot! I hope y'all enjoy this too. This one is based off Gold Rush by Taylor Swift, so if you have the chance to hear it, do it <3
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It was cold, it was winter and you wanted to sleep so bad. Classes had been cancelled due to the strong snow storm going on outside, and for your luck, the storm got you inside of one of the many buildings around campus… Not particularly alone. 
You were just getting out of a class when your professor called your name, and you stayed without suspicion of the future storm. He just wanted to congratulate you because of the great essay you turned in, and after a lot of convo about how grief was a big theme for psychologists (because the class was Psychology 101), you left practically running, just to see a guard closing the doors saying that no one could leave until the storm ended. 
That was about an hour ago, and you were running late for work and really tired. 
The thing was that, after foolishly thinking that you were alone, you went to the restroom, just to find one of your classmates getting out of the males room. Oh, but it was not just a classmate, it was Peter freaking Parker, who you had exchanged a few words with during last week's party, and you had had a crush on for… Well, just a week, but to be fair he was really charming and it felt like forever. 
And now, you had been sitting across from him pretending to read while having your nerves run up and down your fingers. Everything you felt was exaggerated, and you hated it. 
He probably didn’t even notice you. If you were honest, you were too deep in your thoughts to look at him. I mean… Just one glance towards him and it was like falling into a freaking gold rush. 
After a few more minutes of overthinking, you finally let the book down and sighted. You needed to do something, because otherwise you would die of pure frustration. 
“You okay there?”
His voice surprised you. It was firm and kind of playful, if you may say. 
“Yeah” you answered in a reflex, but after seeing his dark chocolate eyes, quietly analysing your answers, you couldn’t help but smile in defeat “, no, I’m not. I’m late for work.”
He got up, and you immediately moved in your seat really nervous, just to find him sitting next to you in a few seconds. 
“Well I’m sure your boss will understand.”
“Yeah, well, I hope. If she doesn't, I'm dead.”
“I’m sure you will not die from losing your job.”
“Well, if you put it like that, I sound pathetic” that alarmed Peter, and he rapidly turned to face you. Before he even began to apologise, you laughed, shaking your head “. I’m just kidding! I mean, by my logic I will just run out of expenses for a few days before finding a job. And that’s if I even get fired.”
“Christ, you scared the hell out of me” that made you laugh, looking directly at his eyes, again. The sudden tension in the room had evaporated for what seemed so long, but had been so little, and yet it had been really enjoyable… Somehow. 
Yeah, you were definitely overthinking everything. And before the train of thoughts could even stop you from doing something out of your comfort zone, your mouth took action. 
“You’re Peter, right?”
“I’m, um, yeah. Peter” you nodded, staying quiet because you didn’t want to seem like the stalker type because of the fact that you knew his last name “, Parker, Peter Parker.”
 “Yeah, yeah.”
“You’re Y/N. You were at Bobby’s last week, right?”
“Uh, yeah.”
He actually remembered you. That made you even more nervous, making you look at the table as a way of hiding your sudden blush. 
That night was about a long week ago, but you remembered it as if it was yesterday. You never went to parties, mainly because of all the homework and projects you have since you were majoring in Medicine, however that night was one of a kind due to the fact that one of your best friends, Bobby, was hosting it. He begged until practically he cried outside of your room, and you finally accepted, getting ready in that blue dress your roommate had left you ready before leaving with her boyfriend. 
And everything else went kinda fast. You arrived, had a couple of drinks and then played beer pong with Bobby, Angelica (Bobby’s girlfriend), and that quiet boy Bobby talked so much about, Peter Parker. 
You knew you were doomed from the moment you saw his hair fall like dominoes in his forehead. You knew you were doomed when he kindly asked you if you wanted another drink. You knew you were doomed when after losing at beer pong, you practically stared at Peter with the muffled music over his voice explaining something about the string theory, just focusing on the movement of his lips and on how freaking beautiful he was. 
“So, how was the hangover?” 
That surprised you again, making you look at him with a tired smile. He was smirking in the cool way only he could do. 
“Terrible. I had lots of things to do and, honestly? I slept all day.” 
Now that made Peter laugh. You smiled in a more shy way, feeling the anticipated red flush. 
“That was a smart decision.” 
You giggled, shaking your head in negation. 
“I was honest!” 
“Yeah, well, I see you were” you laughed once again before he spoke again “, what are you majoring in?” 
“Pre-med.” 
“Ah, that's why you're such a busy lady” rolling your eyes, you admitted that embarrassing fact “. Well, I'm a busy man myself. I'm majoring in physics.” 
“Holy shit” you managed to say, remembering the string theory conversation from Bobby's “, yeah, I believe you told me that.” 
Peter looked at you with his brows furrowed. You smiled, without a clue of what was going on inside of his tiny yet smart brain. 
“Yeah, I did. You actually remembered it.” 
Yeah, I wanted to kiss you the whole time, but I remember a couple of words falling off your beautiful mouth, Peter Parker. 
You blushed, harder than before. 
“Um, yeah, I did.”
“Cool” he said, before leaning in with a little yet noticeable smirk “, um, would you like to… Well, you know, like, get something sometime, or something like that?” 
With your eyes fixated on his, you swallowed hard before nodding in an aggressive manner. He laughed and leaned back, crossing his arms on his chest and oh my God his muscles. 
“I mean, sure.” after a couple of seconds of taking into account what he just said, you talked in a confused tone “ Whatever that meant.” 
“Yes, I'm bad at this kind of stuff.” 
“I can see that” you took a deep breath before talking again “. I'm not gonna lie to you, I am too. I wanted to ask you out after the party but I was too drunk and too lost to do it.” 
Silence, that was what followed your confession. You looked up just to see Peter's eyes staring at all of you… Just like you were before you started talking to each other. 
And then, he answered. 
“Actually, me too.” 
That made you go 'Oof', before laughing in a nervous tone. Peter smiled, nodding with dissolved tension around the both of you. 
“Well, it's good to see that at least we were both interested in each other.” 
“I know” Peter answered, putting his head on your shoulder. Both of your eyes went to the windows, in where a sleeping guard was seated against the falling snow of winter “, and I really like you, but I can be difficult at times.” 
“Oh, believe me, if I have to call you on your contrarian shit, I'll do it.” 
That made him laugh. Little did you know, he was implying he had a different life hiding from everyone. 
“Well, that's cute” he looked up, admiring your sudden red flush, again “, and that is too.” 
You were too close to each other. You saw into his eyes, and he saw into yours. You could see a future with him, and that made you really happy. Peter looked like the silent type because, probably, he had to deal with a lot of stuff from the past, and you understood that. You had to do that too, and more than understanding it, you admired it. 
“We should go out when winter leaves.” 
“Y/N.” 
“Maybe we can go to the coast. To Long Island.” 
“Y/N.” 
“What do you think?” 
“Can I kiss you?” 
Oh, you didn't like the way he just made you weak on your knees. You were honestly too deep into thought (again), until this particular phrase… 
“Yes.”
Putting your lips together at a sweet and delicate pace, you took upon yourself to accommodate Peter's face to yours, stroking his cheeks with the same rhythm you were kissing each other. He smiled before getting away from you, leaving you practically speechless. 
“I would actually love to go to the coast with you, it's just that I was not listening to you at all, and you look so beautiful in that red sweatshirt…” 
“Oh, just shut it.” 
It was true, everybody wanted Peter Parker. But you were a lucky girl, if you were honest, because without noticing you won his heart. You could stop fantasizing about him, however… Everybody wanted him, but you didn't like the gold rush he gave you. 
Or at least, not yet.
a/n: i’m a whore for this man. i needed to write about him so bad, so, here it is. 
26 notes · View notes
cadopan · 3 years
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Arsenal’s player ratings for Hoffenheim vs Arsenal UWCL Group Stage 2nd Leg (4-1)
what was that…. i’m actually speechless. it’s like a slow-burn amnesia where the whole team is forgetting how to play football. I’d like to talk about something positive, so I’ll just dive into how good Hoffenheim played today. I have to say, from the first 10 minutes, I kinda got a feel of where this was going. They outplayed us in all aspects; hunger in their pressing, confidence in playing out of the back, knowing exactly where their teammates were in the final third, the list goes on. There was one movement right from the kick-off where they beat our press so seamlessly, whereas our buildup/attack looked disjointed (mainly due to midfield distribution being absent) and completely lacking creativity or ideas.
Starting XI:
*do take note that these are all based on my memory from watching the game live (doubt I’ll want to watch the replay), and half of the match was spent in ever-growing panic and averting my eyes at the way we very nearly let that quarter-finals place slip out of our hands. thank you. Lydia — 4.5/10. can’t really fault too much her for any of the goals, our defending was pure shambles today and it’s just unfortunate that she’s on the end of 4 goals being knocked past her. and what happened to Manu? and Noelle?? their presence is sorely missed. Anna — 3/10. one of the least culpable of the backline, but Jule Brand (can we sign her up?) was having a field day up against Patsy, just dancing past her like nobody’s business. also went foolishly rushing out for the first goal, which left that gaping space behind her and Lia and Jen were left scrambling to try and cover her. couple vital blocks and backtracking that she produced in the second half really saved our skin though. Jen — 2/10. now that’s two completely individual errors made that led to goals conceded in two matches from her. even in the first goal, her lack of pace is just glaringly obvious and it’s costing us. I hate to sound cold but we really need to move on from this defence if we have want to have any hopes of putting up some kind of fight against good teams. Steph — 3/10. had a good outing last time but today was just back to the usual suspect performances from her. how many careless passes into the midfield danger area does she want to make? honestly, the midfield were poor too but they weren’t being done any favours by the risky balls constantly sent into their feet when they had multiple Hoffenheim players surrounding them.
sidenote: ever since our defence situation has been looking absolutely appalling in recent times, I’ve put some thought into who we could possibly nab in the transfer window to shore up our backline and who might fit in to our plans for the future. my pick is…. *drumrolls* Hawa Cissoko from West Ham!! not sure if many people watch their games, but I keep up with their matches in the WSL and she’s a rock at the back for them. has good reading of the game, is never bullied physically, and she actually has some pace! also, she makes these surging runs to get up field (both with and without the ball, and picks the right moments to do so!), which would add an exciting element to our variations going forward. she’s the same age as Leah, and recently been getting called up to the French national team after consistently doing well for West Ham. i’ve really settled on her as my ideal pick for defensive reinforcements that we desperately need. y’all should check her out. plus, West Ham has been growing as a team this season and they play some pretty enjoyable football. Katie — 4/10. didn’t make as many dreadful mistakes, but can’t say she had an especially good game either. decent, might even be generous. tried to get up and send in some crosses (which is arguably her strongest point), but still not enough to really effect our attacking game, and quite stagnant in the buildup on the left side. Lia — 2.5/10. like Jen, had a hand in 2 of goals conceded today, particularly the second one where she let a simple pass completely roll under her, Hoffenheim get possession right outside our box and voila their scoring streak begins. i just really hope her confidence isn’t shot, because we’ve seen those true moments of quality that she can produce! maybe in terms of her mentality under pressure, she needs to improve that pronto so she doesn’t keep getting dispossessed right in front of the CBs. another game for Lia to forget this season :(
Frida — 3.5/10. another victim of the ‘Frida-Lia-Kim midfield’ that simply does not work well together. here’s my take on one of the reasons why: if you notice Jordan or Mana play, they often drop deep enough to receive the ball from the defenders, which might seem very basic or simple, but what that does is drag out the Hoffenheim players who are marking them and thus creates pockets of space further upfield that can be exploited. this dynamic movement hardly exists, not to mention the significantly lesser creative output too, that almost nothing was progressing from the midfield areas in the first half. Arsenal’s only route of attack was find a way to get the ball to the wingers, send a cross or shot in, and hope to god that someone gets on the end of it (like the way Mana did).
Kim — 5/10. i mean, it was an abysmal day for everyone but she was still one of those who sorta managed an okay-ish performance. her close control and footwork to wiggle out of the Hoffenheim players’ grasps was great to watch as usual, but sadly she was one of the only few who were trying to lead by example.
Beth — 6/10. another one who did as much as she could, during the time that she was on imo. liveliest spark over the course of the first half, and if not for her shot being parried, we wouldn’t even have that consolation goal to commiserate over. it’s getting more and more concerning that she isn’t being rested by Jonas though.
Viv — 4/10. throughout the 90, i think i only counted one (maybe two) good shots from her? and that clear 1v1 opportunity that she absolutely wasted can’t be ignored… don’t like saying it but what’s going on with her recently? i know everyone likes to use the “but she doesn’t get enough service” reasoning, but it’s now been multiple, and dare i say easy finishes that a lethal striker like her should be putting away in as many games.
Mana — 5/10. also didn’t have the best of games today, felt like she was trying to compensate for the midfield by becoming the creative force and also lost quite a bit of possession due to it. (fyi, this is a recurring feature of her game though. high risk, high reward kind of playing style. that’s why she can do magic and make things happen out of nothing, but also ends up giving the ball away when it doesn’t work out.) however, she busted a gut to target Beth's rebound and make the equaliser happen, so that was her significant contribution today.
Subs:
Keets — 5.5/10. another case in which the subs get higher ratings because they were on for a shorter period of time when the catastrophe was taking place. definitely the much-needed energy to sort of “wake up” the team and get some tempo in our attack going. the right side came alive in the second half after she entered.
Jordan — 5/10. should’ve been on from the start. i don’t even want to write it out because i’m so tired of repeating this. another thing about Jordan and Mana is that they actively try to turn and face forward with the ball, which beats the first line of opponent press and kickstarts the attack or enables them to spray out through balls or go wide. in this current midfield that Jonas nonsensically favours, Kim is the only one who does that. also did good to settle the nerves a bit and ensure that we saw out the game without conceding anymore goals. we’re clearly missing an extra leader on the pitch when you omit her, wtf Jonas.
Viki — N/A. brought on to tick down the last few seconds before our misery finally came to an end.
Bonus:
Jonas Eidevall — 3/10. not resting players, choosing the same ineffective midfield. he is letting us down yet again, but I have to say that he doesn’t get a rock bottom rating because he can’t do anything about those defensive errors. we’re just making a habit of giving up goals mainly from our own deficiencies, that needs to be coached out of our system ASAP. the midfield today is especially puzzling because, hey, this is Hoffenheim. no disrespect to them and we were clearly shown who’s boss today, but this is a side that we beat 4-0 in the first leg. what in the world was the reasoning behind Jonas putting out a midfield that is mainly defensive more than anything? go out guns blazing, secure a couple goals, and then you can sit back.
Referee — 5/10. don’t recall anything contentious she may have done, mostly because i was distracted and panicking over us possibly losing our ticket to the QFs. Overall: thought things were on an upturn after the way we ended the week, but nope. the team was shocking, fatigued and slowly losing it. cmon we can do better guys. my summary section is usually longer than this, but i think you can tell i’ve just kind of lost the motivation to continue lol.
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Presentation jitters: An Idia Shroud stuffing story
This was a commission from a friend of mine, @trashytummiez, I'm sorry it took so long doll. I hope it's good! If anyone else wishes to commission me, they are always open!
Mr. Crewel snaps his whip once again and stops in the front of the classroom before turning gracefully on his heel to gaze upon his students.
“I hope all of you were paying attention to that description because I will not be repeating myself for lazy puppies.” His stern voice made several students sit up straighter in their chairs out of embarrassment.
“You will present these on Friday. This means you have 3 days to complete your projects and practice presenting them. Any puppy that isn’t ready on time will get an F.” A few students groaned and sank into their seats at the thought of such a close due date.
“Oh and one more thing, for those who have taken a liking to worming their way out of in class presentations,” he looked over at the floating magipad that seemed to sink a little upon being addressed. “You will be required to stand, in person, in front of this board, and speak directly to this class.”
A few students snickered at the audible gulp that came from the magipad due to the student behind the screen forgetting how high tech his headphones were.
Crewel turned back to his class and snapped the whip fiercely. “That is all. Class dismissed!” he called and all of the boys in the room slid their chairs back nearly in a perfect unison. Each eager to get back to their dorms and either start on their presentation or goof off foolishly with their friends.
The magipad rose above the turmoil of teenage boys crammed together in a small hallway. Swooping over the courtyard, the device swiftly made its way back to its owner in the dorm known as Ignihyde.
Deep in the dorm’s technologically advanced, yet still mysterious and creepy greek architecture, a room devoted to the dorm leader was occupied by quite possibly the most nervous person at school.
Idia Shroud.
The young mage was stuck, frozen in his seat, trembling slightly as his head filled with images of himself standing in front of an entire classroom, speaking aloud, suppressing the need to vomit from so many eyes trained on him.
Idia groaned and sank backwards into his gaming chair while his magipad slipped through the crack underneath the door and found its home on his desk.
“Why me…” he moaned and turned so he could pull his hood over his head. The most introverted student at school had only one wish and it was to be left alone by nearly everyone. Unfortunately the extroverts and sadists of the world seemed keen on making that impossible.
So much for “dreams do come true”.
Shroud sighed and sat up in his chair, glancing at the clock nervously, (like everything else he did), and saw that he still had a couple hours until you arrived. Quickly he shot you a text about the presentation so you were prepared that he might have to ignore you for a little while in order to finish and set to work on the project that filled him with so much dread.
You glance at your phone screen and smile. You have just a few more minutes to spare before you had to be at Idia’s.
Your boyfriend, Idia Shroud, was not what most people would look for in a partner. He was shy, anxious, overwhelmingly competitive, shut in otaku, who could barely look a girl in the eye without bursting into tears or flames.
But with hard work, a boatload of patience, and intensive exposure therapy, you had managed to get him relatively comfortable around you. The only thing left to work on was his confidence when it came to indulging your… interests.
You bit your lip and tried not to be so excited as you looked down at the several bags of food that you had compiled once you knew Idia was feeling a little anxious. You felt a little bit like this was taking advantage of him in the sense that you wanted this a bit more than you probably should. All your insecurities vanished as you reached his door and knocked gently before pushing your way inside.
The flame haired boy was seated at his desk, staring intently at his computer screen. A small pout had wormed its way onto his face and you giggled at the childish huff he made when something on the screen made him frustrated.
Instantly he looked up at you in surprise, likely not having noticed your entrance. He smiled shyly and tugged at one of his sleeves as you shut the door behind you and made your way over to his desk.
Setting the bags down on the bed, you leaned down and kissed him on the cheek. Idia turned bright red and laughed nervously as you watched him with a fond look.
“So I heard you’re having a hard time.” you spoke gently. He turned to you and frowned at the reminder of his impending doom.
Idia sighed and raised his hand to his mouth so he could reflexively chew on his hoodie sleeve. The mage had always found himself searching for relief from his anxiety in anything that had to do with his mouth.
Sometimes he bit his lips until they were raw, sometimes he chewed on the sleeves of his hoodie, sometimes he pursed and unpursed his lips repeatedly. But your personal favorite habit of his was when he stress ate.
Of all of the students in the school, Idia was one of the few that could be considered truly talented for how much they could pack away. His unnaturally heated stomach digested things far more efficiently than the average person. That and being inhuman made inhuman things far easier to achieve.
Every time you witnessed Idia’s belly swell to incredible sizes you couldn’t help but feel hot. Even more so when he forgot you were in the room, and let out crude belches to make room and then continue eating as if he wasn’t already ballooned beyond normal proportions.
You hoped today would be no different.
“Idia,” you said gently, causing him to look up at you. “Wanna let go of your sleeve for something that’s supposed to go in your mouth?” It was then that he noticed the bags beside you. Almost like a predator picking up on its prey, his eyes zeroed in and he licked his lips instinctively.
*GUuUUOooooRRRggLLEeeee*
Almost on cue, Idia’s stomach growled loudly. The blue haired mage hissed through his teeth and rubbed a hand over his stomach. You giggled and waved your boyfriend over, pleased when he complied.
As Idia arranged himself on the bed, you began to unpack all the food you had acquired for him.
You quickly pulled 2 large pizzas out of the first bag, 4 large pasta dinners came from the second along with a side of half a dozen rolls. The third bag had a footlong and 3 sides of fries. A fourth bag held a dozen brownies and a large blueberry pie. Lastly 2 triple litres of mountain doom emerged from a fifth bag.
In all honesty you may have overdone it with the food, almost always over eager to see how much Idia could really eat before he reached his limit. You assumed he would have no trouble with most of it but everybody had to stop at some point.
Idia got comfortable and finally looked over to the impressive spread of food that you had brought for him. Instantly his eyes widened and his jaw dropped in surprise and hunger, a single stream of drool ran down his chin which he wiped away quickly with a blush.
“Y-you got all of th-this for m-m-me?” You nodded and sat yourself next to him with a smile.
“I thought you would appreciate a selection to choose from.” you said smoothly, as if you hadn’t bought all of this with hopes that he would eat it all.
Shroud swallowed nervously and stared at the food as if daunted. “It’s ok if you don’t eat all of it Idia,” you frowned, “I just thought you might want some food. There’s no need to make yourself sick though.”
He smiled shyly at you. He always appreciated how sensitive you were to his signals. Understanding what he was too afraid to say was one of the things that had drawn him to you in the first place. It reminded him that you loved him whether or not he could fulfill your fantasies.
Not that he couldn’t of course.
With a hungry protest from his stomach, Idia leaned forward and grabbed a slice of pizza. You watched with rapt attention as he tore away nearly half the slice in one bite before chewing and swallowing quickly.
The young mage moaned at the taste and promptly shoved the rest of the slice in his mouth. Only with the first slice did Idia bother taking bites. For the rest of the pizza that he consumed he simply crammed the entire slice in his mouth and let his razor sharp teeth take care of the rest.
Each slice went down swiftly and easily leaving his stomach to burble excitedly at the prospect of more. You bit your lip and squirmed each time a large mass of masticated cheese, sauce, and dough was gulped down, creating a large round protrusion in Idia’s neck before sinking past his chest.
Soon all eight slices of the first pizza were gone. Usually Idia paused and checked on you to make sure he wasn’t grossing you out or anything (despite knowing full well that you enjoy this deeply), but instead he pulled the second box over and began to gorge himself on that pizza as well.
He must be either more hungry or more anxious then you had previously thought, you told yourself.
The pizza he was currently eating was your favorite so you snatched a slice for yourself to eat while he continued to plow through the rest of the box.
As he ate, you noticed that his hand had come to rest atop his stomach contentedly. His belly was becoming a bit distended and bubbled happily as it graciously received more food.
“Urrf… ooh that feels gooood…” Idia groaned and put both hands on his gut when he finished the second pizza. Your face warmed as he sighed after suppressing a low burp in his cheeks. “Excuse me.” You smiled and patted his stomach which sloshed a bit at the contact.
“Don’t worry about it, love. Just enjoy yourself.” He blushed lightly and looked away, making you giggle. In order to distract you from his embarrassment, Idia leaned forward and grabbed the pasta containers, pulling them towards him.
In only moments after opening the first container, all of the pasta had been slurped down leaving Idia to belch softly and sigh. He flushed and placed a hand over his face. You smiled and kissed his cheek which didn’t help his blush.
“It’s alright, let it out when you feel like it.” Idia looked away and slowly went back to eating. Soon he picked up his former pace and you stared eagerly as he swallowed the next three containers of pasta.
Placing the final empty container back on the bed, Idia groaned and held his stomach. You frowned and leaned forward to place a hand on the swollen belly.
It was now the size of a massive watermelon, hanging heavy in his lap. You could feel that he needed to release some pressure, but was suppressing it out of embarrassment. Sneakily you leaned over and gave him a peck on the lips which made his jaw drop, before pressing hard on his bloated tummy.
“HHHUUUUUUUUUUUUOOOOOOOOOOORRRRRP!!!!”
A loud groan emitted from the globe like mass and travelled up until Idia’s open jaws spread further to unleash a large belch. It was loud and clear, filling the air with the stench of italian dough and sauce.
Another shorter after burp came and left Idia huffing and sighing. “Gruuh… hah hah… UUURP! Haaah….” After being with him for some time now, you knew that Idia had a particularly sensitive stomach. Although it could handle massive amounts of food, even the tiniest bit of gas made him cramp up and groan in pain.
You patted his stomach gleefully and slid the bag with the footlong and fries over in hopes that he would eat them next.
Idia’s eyes widened again in excitement and he quickly grabbed the bag and pulled out the foot long. Before eating it he looked over at you curiously. Shifting, you blushed under his gaze and asked him what was wrong.
The blue haired mage then asked, “You like seeing me stuff myself?” You nodded eagerly. This wasn’t the first time he confirmed your kinks and it likely wouldn’t be the last. “Th-then do you wanna see me eat this sandwich in o-one b-b-bite…” His voice got smaller as he spoke and your cheeks got redder. A quick nod and he turned back to the sandwich.
Idia sighed in preparation and held the footlong up to his lips like he was going to kiss it. Then he opened his mouth very, VERY wide, and began to cram the sandwich into it.
Your own jaw dropped as Idia’s throat bulged and buckled to accommodate the sandwich. He continued to feed it into his mouth and you could hardly contain a moan when he finally closed his lips around the end of it and swallowed thickly.
His throat muscles squelched and constricted, eager to move the sandwich down into Idia’s equally eager gut. Soon the belly, still hidden by a hoodie, began to swell. It grew a few inches and you placed a hand on it in wonder.
Finally Idia gasped for air and moaned as he let his hands slide off his stomach, soon to be replaced by yours.
Earnestly, you slid your hands underneath his hoodie and began to rub your boyfriend's tummy, which gurgled contently. A smile slipped onto your lips and you watched as he flushed a dark red at the contact.
“Keep going.” you urged softly and Idia was quick to comply.
With your hands on his stomach Idia had no problems making his way through all of the fries, letting out a greasy burp here and there to make some room.
“Gruh! Salty. Can I get some-” before he could even finish you held up the soda. His gaze flicked back and forth between you and the bottle before you finally smiled sheepishly as he took the bottle.
You shifted in excitement as he unscrewed the cap and the familiar hiss of compressed air leaving a bottle hit your ears. Idia took a deep breath and tipped the bottle up, slugging mouthfuls of soda down by the second.
Sometimes you thought Idia’s throat was like a funnel with the way the soda never stopped lowering in level. Only moments after he started, the soda was below the label, a minute later, it was nearly empty.
Idia’s eyes were shut in concentration and his cheeks flushed with effort. You could hear his throat squelch everytime he gulped. You lay a hand on his stomach and practically swooned. With every swallow you felt it swell slightly beneath your fingers.
Finally, Idia pulled the bottle away from his lips and let it fall to the floor with a huff. He gasped and panted for air for several moments before he winced and his gut gurgled loudly.
“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRLLLLLPH!!!!!”
An incredible belch erupted past his lips. The dishes left on the bed rattled from the force of it and when the long eructation ended, Idia slumped backwards with a loud moan. You were positive your face was redder than a tomato.
Your boyfriend sighed and slumped, allowing his tongue to hang out of his maw. His cheeks were also flushed.
Ignoring your hands continuing to caress his stomach, Idia leaned forward and avoided your eyes. His shyness whenever he burped in front of you was adorable, as long as he remembered to let loose.
You let your eyes wander over the taut flesh that peeked out from under Idia’s hoodie. As the young mage licked his lips at the sight of a dozen brownies, all soft, chewy, and chocolaty, you slid yourself so that you were sitting directly on top of his knees.
Staring intently at the way your boyfriend’s lips wrapped around brownie after brownie, teeth scissoring through them like nothing, your fingers wiggled their way underneath the fabric that now barely concealed the globelike gut that sat heavily in front of you.
Through a mouthful of brownie, Idia moaned as your fingertips skimmed along his sides. Tracing along the curve of his rounded belly, you smirked when Idia let his head fall back and mouth drop open in a long sigh.
Removing a single hand, you continued to massage his stomach, and sneakily you picked up a brownie and held it over Idia’s open maw. His eyes flashed eagerly, and without further prompting took the brownie from your hand with his teeth.
He chewed slower than he had when he started the meal, but you could tell he was only just starting to feel it. The ever present warmth and weight that came with a full stomach was leading him to lose pace, simply out of content.
You held another brownie out for him and pressed it gently against his lips when he didn’t open right away. Reluctantly, he sighed and spread his lips so you could press another bite inside. Finally after what seemed like forever, the brownies were gone and Idia hiccuped painfully.
“Ooohh… sooooo full…” Idia groaned and stifled a burp while cradling his gut. “UUUUUUrrrrp… gruh…. Fuck, it’s so tight. Urrgh… heavy…” He burped again, quieter this time and wetter.
The bed creaked as you shifted closer, nearly pressing your own stomach against his bloated one. Sympathetic, you delicately removed Idia’s hands and replaced them with your own. Soon his pain filled noises morphed into pleased moans and sighs.
A smile spread across your face at your boyfriend's happiness. Never looking away, you let your hands drop to his pants and unbuttoned them quickly before he could protest.
As the *zzzrriiip* of the zipper flying down on it’s own finished, a strange look came across Idia’s face before he let his jaw drop to release a massive belch.
“UUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAWWWWWWWWWWWWOOOOOOOOORRRRRRRRRRRHHHHHHHHUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRRLLLLLLLLLLP!!!!!”
A hellacious stench blasted through the air and made your eyes water when the fetid gas hit them. Loudly, Idia moaned and let his mouth hang open while he panted. A few more burps burst up his throat before he snapped his jaws shut and let them rumble deeply behind his lips.
Pink hues splashed Idia’s cheeks and he whimpered in embarrassment despite your obvious enjoyment of the crass display.
“Shhh. It’s alright Idia. You know I like it,” your hands pushed his sweater up and shirt to expose his large belly. “Let it out babe. I wanna hear you.” While you weren’t always so thirsty this week had been particularly taxing since you hadn’t been able to spend much time with your boyfriend. Now all you wanted to do was enjoy yourself with him.
But first he had to relax.
Gazing down at the expanse of inhumanly pale flesh, you gasped and allowed your hands to fly up and lay themselves against the yoga ball sized bloat Idia was sporting. Huge was the only word that came to mind as you trailed your sight over the belly.
While hidden underneath Idia’s trademark sweatshirt, it was hard to see just how massive he could get. However once removed it was very apparent that he had packed away an entirely large amount of food.
Your fingers kneaded into the soft flesh and above you Idia crooned with delight. A small smile slipped onto your lips and you massaged harder into the mound of gut. Starting on the sides you made sure to work in circles, alternating between large and small ones, as you caressed his stomach.
Your hands slipped underneath and you grasped the skin there and pressed further against him, biting your lip. Sliding a finger up, you traced his navel delicately, deliberately leaving space so you could tease him.
Idia’s eyes had shut in bliss minutes before, but fluttered open when he whined at your lack of attention to the sensitive spot resting atop his spherical gut. Finally you conceded and allowed your finger to slip inside the innie belly button drawing a long moan from your boyfriend. His hips bucked involuntarily and you watched in awe as the skin jiggled in response to the movement.
His cheeks puffed up and he held up a fist to muffle a thick belch. When it finished he hiccuped and sighed before glancing at you nervously.
“HHHHRRRRMMMMLLLPPPHH!”
You raised an eyebrow and grinned mischievously, making him gulp anxiously. Quickly you began to knead harder into the belly making Idia whimper and jerk.
“RRRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRLLLL-BOOOOOOOOOOORRRRRRLLLLPH!!!!”
Suddenly a shockingly large burp exploded out of the mage making your eyes snap upwards. The eructation started fairly good, with a long clear blast before it paused momentarily and raised in volume and power. It must have been satisfying because the moment it ended Idia moaned and bit his lip.
You pressed again and Idia hiccuped jerkily a few times before a couple sickly belches dribbled past his lips.
The mage groaned and whimpered, “I think it’s stuck… HIC-uurgh…” he said and you frowned. That was until a glorious idea entered your head as you realized he still had a bottle of soda to drink.
“Idia!” he glanced at you, “Here, this will help.” You held up the bottle for him and his eyes widened before he shook his head vigorously. “N-n-no that’ll only m-make it worse.”
“Please Idia, for me?” you gave your best puppy eyes and he sighed in defeat before holding up his hand for the bottle.
You squirmed excitedly as he took the soda and unscrewed the cap. He flung the piece of plastic somewhere else in the room and gave you a shy smile before upending the bottle.
One of your favorite things to do was watch Idia drink soda. Large golf ball sized bulges continuously rolled down his throat as he gulped down carbonated sugary sweetness even after being stuffed to his limit. A look of strain accompanied his flushed cheeks which had turned red from exertion.
Your hands felt the skin beneath them stretch even further to accommodate the added liquid. You moaned as you watched his gut visibly expand with each swallow and listened so you could hear the thick squelch of his throat and the splash of a waterfall of soda entering his bloated gut.
Quicker than you would have liked, Idia finished the bottle and let it drop and roll off the bed onto the floor. He groaned and placed his hands over his taut skin which was still stretching even after the mass of liquid had finished being consumed.
Idia wasn’t human, that much was obvious. But something that most people didn’t know was that his entire body ran ridiculously hot. He had once described it as having a fever 24/7. He was always hotter than the air around him. Particularly his organs.
It was secretly another one of your favorite things about him. Having a hot stomach meant that when he drank anything carbonated, the soda would fizz faster and fill his stomach with air making it bloat even after he finished drinking.
The blue haired teen panted and shifted uncomfortably and you took note of his displeasure. With a frown you resumed your rubbing and focused on finding tenser spots to press on. It wasn’t long before you discovered one.
More eagerly than you perhaps meant to, you pressed down firmly and a tonsil rattling belch rang through the room.
“BWWWWUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRPK!!!!!”
He sighed when it finished and you smirked when his cheeks flushed, however you knew that the main event had yet to come and continued searching his engorged gut for tight spots.
“BRRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACK!!!!”
“BOOOOOOOOOOOOORRRRP!!!!”
“HHHHHRRRRRRRRRRRMMMMMMMMMMMLLLLLLLLLLPH!!!”
“BUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRROOOOOOOOOORRRRP!!!!!!!”
For several minutes Idia belched and burped uncontrollably as you pressed and kneaded into his upset tummy. Each eruption was long, loud, and ridiculously hot. You squirmed feeling warmer by the second.
The shallow belches were nice, but still lacked the heft that would relieve Idia of his tummy ache.
“HRRPK! Oooooooh… nooo it hurts. Why won’t it come out FuuUUUUUUURRRRK! Gruh…”
You scowled determinedly and leaned forwards making Idia blush. “What-what are you d-doing?” Quickly you wrapped both your arms around his midsection and squeezed as tightly as you could.
Idia’s eyes went wide and a nauseous green look came over his face as he raised a hand. For a moment you feared he would be sick, but then beneath you his entire stomach reverberated with an intense groan.
You could hear it rise in his throat and looked up in anticipation. Despite his best efforts, Idia’s hand was blown away by the single most intense, loudest, longest, most powerful belch you had ever had the pleasure of experiencing...
“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU - HHHHHHHHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRLLLLLLP!!!!!!!!!!!!!”
...and it blasted you right in the face. If you could, you would have noticed how the bed shook in its wake, but all of your senses were completely dominated by the burp. Hot and sickly air blew your hair back and your eyes watered even after you shut them. Flecks of spittle landed on your face and beneath you, you could feel Idia’s stomach emptying of gas.
It was perfect. When it finally came to a close after a whopping 14 seconds Idia gasped and panted. You were still stunned when he fell backwards on the bed, taking you with him, the movement making his gut slosh with a loud ‘blooorsh’.
Drool slipped down his chin while his tongue hung out of his open maw. His face was flushed from exertion, making him look even more appealing.
When time caught up to you, the hearts in your eyes danced as you dove forwards to plant a sloppy kiss on your boyfriend's lips. He immediately embraced you back and tiredly smiled at you when you pulled back.
“I take it you enjoyed that one?” You nodded vigorously, making him chuckle.
“And I take it you are finally relaxed?” you asked hesitantly, hoping the answer would be yes.
“Well, I’m full of delicious food, holding my kinky girlfriend,” you glared teasingly, “and too tuckered out to feel embarrassed so, yeah I’d say I’m doing pretty good.”
“Good” you said before kissing him on the nose. Regardless of his earlier boldness he blushed with an eep and hid his head in your neck. A quiet “I love you” was mumbled into your skin and you smiled, “I love you too Idia.”
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