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#yeah I’m still crying ugly tears
athena-xox · 6 months
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So basically I procrastinated writing the actual next chapter of my fic on my flight and decided to instead start a new fic that would basically just be Farrah’s character arc in my fic except canon complaint and a similar style to 99 cent dreams
But I cannot write it
I projected a little too close to home and I’m currently crying bc it brought up past trauma (? I never recognized it as trauma til now but ig it is) uh so…
It would have totally spoiled major things in my rewrite anyways…
But moral is, don’t project too much guys
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coco-loco-nut · 3 months
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Father’s Day
pairing: max verstappen x reader
summary: max is dating an international star
a/n: i literally had this idea last night and had to write a short blurb, i promise i am writing other stuff tho 🫶
masterlist
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y/username happy father’s day, daddy. i love you and your big…
maxverstappen1 anything to share with me?
y/username not pregnant, just letting everyone know how turned on you get me
maxverstappen1 love you too, schat
user12 anyone else not getting it, like she is so hot and he is 😬
y/username you know that one barbie scene with the rock? that’s my maxie. also if you think he’s ugly, that’s fine, more of him for me 😍
user98 Y/N BARBIE FAN CONFIRMED
y/username priority 1: old barbie movies priority 2: max
user3 ON THE MAIN?
user33 PR monster got her, I really wanna know what she was about to say
recordlabel we don’t… we actually want bleach for our eyes
redbullracing we will share our bleach if you send us demos of her next album 👀
charlesleclerc Go on, finish the sentence, I dare you.
y/username his big heart, ego, ass, trophy case, therapy bill from childhood trauma, i could keep going on but i don’t want to make you feel emasculated
user62 okay, but like how did he bag her?
y/username he has incredible rizz, and look at him🤤
“Happy Father’s Day, Maxie,” you grin as Max lays on you lap, looking up at you with his beautiful blue eyes.
“You aren’t pregnant, Schat,” he laughs, your fingertips gently scratching his scalp.
“We could change that, get some practice in for after the wedding?” you watch his eyes widen as he quickly sits up.
“Practice makes perfect, why don’t we practice now?” Max suggests, picking you up and carrying you to the bedroom.
Your wedding is small, only some close friends and family in attendance. The ceremony takes place in your backyard, no reception beyond a dinner afterwards.
Despite both your respective fame levels, you didn’t want anyone knowing of the marriage. Fans still thought you were dating, so when you got a positive pregnancy test, you were extra careful.
Max was grateful that you had a private recording studio in the house, for when you needed to drop the album. You didn’t mean to choose the surprise drop date to be at the end of your pregnancy, nor Father’s Day, but life worked in funny ways.
“Happy Father’s Day, Maxie,” you softly say, handing the little bundle off to Max.
“This is the best present, he’s beautiful,” Max hold back tears as he holds his son close to his chest.
“I’m not sure if I will be able to top this next year,” you laugh a little, your tiredness making an apparent after a long labor.
“You should take a nap, I’ll be okay with him,” Max runs a hand though your sweaty hair. To him, you’ve never looked more perfect.
“I have one thing to do first,” you yawn, pulling out your phone. Max slides into the hospital bed beside you, you immediately nestle into him, his warmth enveloping you.
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y/username SURPRISE! midnight rain is out now! I hope you enjoy this as much as I did writing it for the past four years. There is so much in my life that happened, so enjoy my journey through heartbreak, love, and growth. I want to quickly thank Max and my team for making this possible 💙
user1 AHHH this is so good, but didn’t she and Max break up? Why is she thanking him?
user3 dude, i think they are married, did you listen to everything else
user4 yeah, she had some songs about marriage, but she hasn’t been at any races since last year
user10 did y’all see the statement saying there won’t be a tour for the album?? crying in the club
user11 Okay, but Robin?? secret child??
maxverstappen1 endlessly proud of you, schatje
user5 we get it bro, she wrote Dress and The Alchemy about you
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maxverstappen1 our little robin decided to hatch 💙
danielricciardo So happy for you and Y/n, mate. Big day for the Verstappen family, can’t wait to hold the little guy!
y/username he will love his Uncle Danny
y/username he’s perfect, just like his daddy
redbullracing what a gift for father’s day! sending our gift to you 💙
user42 guys, y/n’s song credits changed…
user21 OMG MAX AND Y/N ARE MARRIED AND THEY HAVE A KID???
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mrsdarkandyandere7 · 6 days
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Late Night
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Pairing: Dark Hawks x (female) Reader
▶ This is a yandere/dark work and it may contain triggering content so please READ THE WARNINGS before. Do not read if minor.
More at Masterlist
Female Reader
SUMMARY: Keigo hates threatning you - only when necessary.
WARNINGS: Implied Kidnapping; Threats.
AN: Please, reblog and give me feedback.
"Hey, c'mon, don't cry..." 
He tries, tentatively reaching with a hand but instantly stopping at the abrupt increase of your sobbing. 
"Y/n? Babe, pretty please..." he sighs, rubbing his tired eyes, "Let's just go to sleep, yeah? It’s getting late and I have to wake early tomorrow."
"Leave me alone." you howl the words out, as if you're a wounded dog. You feel like one, to be fair. Bunched up in a corner of this huge room, face contorted as you cry ugly tears and snot. 
It's only been a week since you were taken from the comfort of your life, and you still can't stop the aching pain that burns your heart whenever you think about it. 
During the day, it’s slightly more manageable to pretend that it’s fine, that you’ll eventually escape him, that everything will be fine.
But as soon as the dark cast of the night hits, it’s like all the overwhelming weight of sad reality starts to wear you down. 
You’re so tired of him. You just wanna go home and hide underneath the safety of your blankets. 
“Babe….”
Keigo sighs once again, leaning back at the adjacent beige wall as he runs his fingers through the blonde hair. 
"Hate to ask, but any chance you can speed this up? Not to the part where you relentlessly beg to go home, to which I'll say no - obviously." Keigo says with such normality as if he’s asking you to turn the lights off.
"Also not the part where you cry your pretty eyes out for another 20 minutes, yell shitty things, threaten me, and so goes on…”
You gulp, with a new batch of tears forming as he tilts his head to the side, lips curling into a half-smile as if your despair amuses him. 
“... but yes to the part where you finally shut up with the hysteria and we go to bed.”
You tearfully glare at him, indignation flaring up at his nonchalant words. 
“I hate you. You kidnapped me!" you continue, half-choking in your own tears, hoping the hatred and anger in your face is enough to show him just how much you hate him. “I hate you!” 
Keigo dismissively shrugs his shoulders, despite the new tension in his jaw as he glances at his wrist watch. 
“I’m not the bad guy here, babe.” 
“You-” 
“If I was the bad guy…” he interrupts you, an unpleasant glint in his eyes showing that deep your words didn’t sit right with him. “...right now I’d be punching a hole into your pretty face for being such a brat. Or maybe I’d be ripping your tongue out with my bare hands, so you won’t speak bullshit like that. Maybe you’d like that better?” 
Your eyes widen at that, body freezing as fear takes control of you. 
For most times Keigo is laid-back and chill, but times like these are the ones that remind you that he’s just as dangerous as a villain is. He could easily hurt or even kill you within seconds, and there was nothing your quirkless ass could do to stop him.
You are at his mercy, much like you’ve always been ever since he took you. 
You hate how helpless you feel. 
Keigo notices your mortified reaction and walks closer, crouching in front of you. 
“Didn’t mean to scare you, babe.” he says with a jovial tone. “But I really need you to behave, ‘kay?”
His hand elevates and he ignores your flinch as he brushes away a few tears. 
“Enough with the tears, you’re too pretty to be cryin’ like that.” he smiles, hand lowering to grab your forearm.
He stands up, pulling you with him towards the bed. 
“Now, let’s go get our beauty sleep.”  
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evie-sturns · 5 months
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fall - Chris Sturniolo
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summary: where your boyfriend chris accidentally hurts you, he spends the whole rest of the night trying to make you feel better.
contains: crying, fluff, comforting, minor injury
------------------------.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.----------------——
With a small grunt I attempt to reach on top of the fridge for the wine glasses, after a bad day at work the only thing I wanted was a glass of red wine.
"Chris!!" I call out, finally realising I can't reach. He doesn't respond, I'm pretty sure he has his headphones on in our room.
Admitting defeat I get off my tiptoes and jog over to the dining table, I drag one of the flimsy wooden chairs across the room back to the fridge.
I sink my top teeth into my bottom lip as I bend over, grabbing the back of the chair and stepping up onto it,
Just then chris walks into the kitchen "you okay?" he asks, walking over behind me as he looks up at me.
"Yeah! I'm just trying t-" I start but I get cut off by Chris's foot slamming against the leg of the chair
bang.
He knocks it out from under my feet, my feet give out, slipping against the wood. "oh my god-" he raises his voice as i fall sideways,
the whole left side of my body slams against the tiles of the kitchen floor, my head slightly making Impact as well.
I lay in shock for a couple seconds before the pain hits, shockwaves of heat shoot up my side, my head throbbing.
I burst into ugly sobs, "I'm so sorry! Shit-- are you okay?" chris gasps, leaning over and picking me up effortlessly, he cradles me in his arms. I can physically hear his heartbeat, his hands trembling as he runs his hand over my head.
"my hip!" i cry, Chris runs over to our bedroom and sits down on the bed, he holds me close to his chest.
"where does it hurt- tell me where it hurts" he rambles frantically, I point to the side of my body and chris nods understandingly,
“is your head okay? it’s not bleeding” Chris try’s to stay calm but I don’t think me sobbing into his shirt is helping
“please don’t cry i’m so sorry.” chris sighs shakily, rubbing my arms and pressing a kiss to my forehead.
“lers get you changed baby, you can’t be comfortable in your work clothes, you think!” Chris try’s to lighten the mood, I nod.
Chris carefully moves me off his lap, as if he touches me any harder i’ll shatter. He jogs over to the closet and looks back at me with a sorry expression
“what- what would you like to wear?” Chris squeezes out, I shrug before wiping my eyes
“that’s okay! are we feeling hot or cold?” He asks, scanning over my face which is drenched in tears
“hot” I mumble, my voice cracking halfway through. Chris nods before searching through the closet drawers quickly
he pulls out a small white tank top and blue striped boy-shorts. “is this okay?” he asks, I nod.
Chris walks over to me and picks me up from under my arms, standing me upright on my feet.
“does it hurt to stand up right sweetheart?” Chris asks, his voice laced with concern.
Truthfully it does hurt to put weight on the right side of my body, but I don’t want to tell him that and panic him more than he already is
i shake my head, “that’s a good sign!” chris force’s enthusiasm, he doesn’t cover up his emotions that well so the undertone of his sentence is fear.
he taps my arm, “and… arms up” chris says, trying to concentrate. I force back my tears as I put my arm up, my right arm won’t comfortably go up.
“oh baby.” chris sighs, rubbing that arm. “do you want to try put it up just for a second? I’ll be really quick getting your blouse off.”
I raise both arms with a wince, chris pouts slightly as he swiftly pulls my shirt off. “you’re doing so well” he whispers, grabbing the white tank top from behind him and pulling it on over me.
“and arms down!” chris says, my arms fall back down. i give him a small smile, tears still flowing down my flushed cheek.
chris reaches down and unbuttons my mini skirt, before tugging it down to my ankles. he hooks his fingers under the waistband of my panties before pulling them down and off.
He picks me up from under my arms again, lift in me out of the skirt which is bunched around my ankles before placing me back down on the carpet. Chris grabs the shorts and pulls them up.
He looks somewhat proud of that effort of getting me changed.
Chris picks me up again and lays me down on the mattress. “how are we doing?” chris asks quietly, i look up at him “I’m okay- i think”
“If you’re not feeling sleepy yet we can grab my laptop and put on a show, or if you’re tired we can go to sleep?” He suggests,
Unironically i yawn when he’s halfway through his sentence, “that’ll answer my question” he laughs, unbuttoning his jeans and letting them fall down, he walks over to the closet, picking out some pyjama shorts and throwing them on.
he takes off his shirt and discards it on his desk chair before walking back over to me, Chris crawls over me and lays down, tugging the covers up over me.
I lay my head on his chest with a small sniffle.
“i’m genuinely so sorry, i really didn’t mean too.” chris whispers into my hair.
“it’s okay.” I say, “if you’re still hurting tomorrow morning we’ll get you to the doctors okay?”
“thank you chris, i love you.” i smile, he reaches his hands up and wipes my eyes.
“oh- chris what about the wine” I instantly remember the fact there’s a spill of red wine spread across the floor.
“you want wine right now? if it’ll make you feel better i’ll go get i-“ he starts, I cut him off
“noo chris! the spill” I laugh, “oh it’s okay, it’ll be fine i’ll clean ‘her up in the morning” Chris replies casually.
“you sure?” I ask, “it might smell really strong of wine in there for the next couple weeks if we don’t get it now”
“i’ll get it out, i have my ways” chris giggles stupidly, earning a scoff from me.
——
8:23am the next morning
The morning sun burns into the side of my face, with a small husky groan i sit up, chris is wide awake next to me laying on his back, his gaze slowly drifts over to me
He’s got dark circles under his bloodshot eyes, his skin pale.
“What happened to you? You look like death” I laugh tiredly
“I don’t think I slept once” Chris groans
“Why? what happened- was I on top of you again like the first time we slept in the same bed- sorry.” I ramble
“no no- it wasn’t you” chris laughs,
“i was just really worried.. about you, and i felt awful for hurting you and making you cry—“ chris says quietly
“oh chris.” i say with a sad smile, i lean down and press a kiss to his lips, holding both sides of his face with my hands.
“i’m okay- i promise sweet boy” I whisper,
“now get to sleep, i’ll be in the living room” I laugh,
chris whines- holding up his hands and tugging my shorts, pulling me towards him
“you know i hate sleeping alloonee” chris groans
—————
@luanetaluenta @sturnsssbow @mattfangirl @luvr4miya @luvtay111 @lolasturniolo @freshloveforthefit @ruedowney @lovingchrissposts s @333michelle @h3arts4harry y @sonicmacks @jamiesturniolo @chrisstopherfilmed @itzdarling @sturniolo-simp4life @daddyslilchickenfingers2 @recklessmatt @ev3rgreenxtrees @lovergirl4387 @certifiednatelover r @solarsturniolo @mattsenthusiast t @yomamaslays4lyfe @peachmels @alinaa131 @pepsiluvr0209 @creamoncreamoncream2 @szobofc @mattscoquette @blahbell668 @sturniolo04 4 @ecilphttlunar @pkfferroo @bitchydragonparadise @thematthewlover @sturni0l0 @ratatioulle
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sanguineterrain · 9 months
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restroom attendant | jason todd
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Summary: Tonight is the worst night ever--you just got dumped on your birthday, and all you want to do is cry in the restaurant bathroom in peace. That is, until, the Red Hood bursts in. This city just won't cut you a break.
Pairing: Jason Todd x fem!reader 
Word count: 1.7k
Warnings/tags: humor, mild angst, reader's ex-bf cheats and dumps her, jason is such a silly goose, flirting, meet ugly, canon-typical violence, awkward jason, comic relief dick grayson.
A/N: this is probably the silliest fic i've ever written LOL! i hope you guys enjoy it. please support your local jason todd enthusiast and reblog :)
the divider
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Tonight sucks. 
With a shaky hand, you attempt to soothe your swollen eyes. You’ve probably been in here for about twenty minutes. Your Uber has definitely left, as has your now ex-boyfriend of three years. 
Yoga instructor. It’s always the yoga instructor. They’re always fucking the yoga instructor.
You swallow a mouthful of tears and phlegm and try not to let the wet sink touch your dress. All you’d wanted was a little class on your birthday, maybe have some wine and play footsie under the table with your boyfriend. But no. That would’ve been too easy for you. 
You’re starting to think this city is cursed.
The door slams open. The force of it shakes the bathroom, rattles the mirrors. You spin around.
A man slides across the floor and smacks his head on the opposite wall. Red Hood appears in the doorway, the eyes of his helmet glowing eerily. 
Yep. Definitely cursed.
"Let's try this again," Hood says pleasantly, reloading his gun with a fresh magazine. "And in the interest of making myself transparent: when I ask you a question, Jerry, I expect a truthful answer."
He stalks over to Jerry and heaves him up by the lapels of his suit jacket. Hood's biceps bulge as he holds Jerry against the wall. You squish yourself against the sink. Water soaks the back of your dress. 
"You're crazy, I didn't do anything!" Jerry shouts, feet barely scraping the floor. 
"Volume, Jerry. People are trying to enjoy their meals.”
“Let go of me, Hood! I wasn’t anywhere near the Iceberg Lounge!”
“Yeah, see, words are coming outta your mouth, but they don't match the fact that I have three people who put you at the scene. How can we remedy this inconsistency? Any ideas?"
Jerry squirms, but he's no match for Hood's strength. Your heart pounds in your chest.
"Don't give me to the cops!" Jerry begs. 
"Cops are the least of your worries right now," Hood snarls. "You're damn lucky Nightwing wants to talk to you, Jerry, or your head would hurt a lot more."
Slowly, you reach for your purse, trying to pull out your phone. Instead, you knock it to the floor. Tears gather in your eyes because this night just can’t cut you a break.
“Motherfucker,” you whisper. 
Hood turns, those frightening white eyes now on you. Jerry also looks at you, legs still dangling.
“Hey,” Hood says without a sign of struggle. “Shit. Y'alright? Did I swipe ya?”
“No,” you say, voice shaky.
His posture softens. “Okay. I’m not gonna hurt you. Don’t be afraid.”
“I believe you. But, um… you're in the women's bathroom.”
Red Hood gives the room a onceover. 
“Huh. So we are. Dunno how that happened.” He shakes Jerry by the collar. “Why’d you run into the women’s bathroom, asshole?”
“I'm sorry, I'm sorry! Don't kill me!” Jerry wails. 
“Shut it, Jesus. I'm not gonna kill you. Not yet, anyway.” 
“It's fine, I was just leaving,” you say, bending down to get your purse. 
“Hey, no, don't let me push you out,” Hood says. “Sorry. I'll be gone in a couple minutes.”
Hood adjusts his grip so Jerry's face is against the wall, arms and legs restrained. Then he zipties Jerry and sits him down hard on the floor. Hood presses a button on his helmet. 
“Yo, N, I'm at Prescott's. Yeah, with Jerry. No, I didn't tell him to run in here, he did that all on his own! Well, I chased him for ten blocks, so I’d prefer if you’d keep your bitching to yourself. Thank you… Okay, we're in the women's bathroom, so—well, I didn't do it on purpose! No, I’m—will you just come here? There’s a side window.” Hood presses the button again with a grunt. “Dickhead.”
“Are you gonna erase my memory?” you ask. 
Hood jerks, turning back to you.
“What? Hell no, I'm not gonna erase your memory. I don't do that shit, I promise.”
You slump against the sink. “That's too bad. I would prefer it.”
He looks up from Jerry’s last ziptie and pulls it extra tight. Jerry whimpers. 
“How come?” Hood asks.
You shake your head. “It's nothing.”
“Hm. Doesn't look like nothing. If you're in danger—”
“I'm not in danger. I…”
You glance at Hood. You can't see his face, but his body language seems genuine. From what you've heard, Hood isn't known for mincing words or doing things he doesn't want to. And he’s good to Gothamites. Well, the law-abiding ones, anyway. He’s even been endorsed by Batman.
What's the harm in telling him about your disastrous night? Not like you'll see him again. Or Jerry. 
“I got dumped,” you say. 
“Ah.” Hood nods. “Been there.”
Somehow, the idea of Red Hood getting dumped is weirder than him beating up a guy in the women’s bathroom of Prescott’s.
You sniffle, and wipe your eyes with the back of your hand. 
“Yeah, um. It was our three year anniversary today. He took me here, told me he was in love with his yoga instructor, and then left.”
You tear up thinking about it. Hood makes a quiet noise.
“Shit. Well, I haven't been there,” he says. “But I know infidelity. I'm sorry. Dudes are trash.”
“And it's my birthday today,” you blurt, sniffling. 
“Happy birthday,” Jerry says, clutching his stomach. 
“What a fucking asshole!” Hood snarls, and lets go of Jerry, who crumples like a sack of potatoes. He’s out cold in a second, frozen on the floor.
Your brows rise. “Is he okay?”
“He’s fine. It’s his first time in Gotham.” Hood shrugs. “Anyway, where was I? Right, your asshole ex. Like it's not enough to publicly dump you, and then he goes and does it on your birthday? Who is this guy? I'll go talk to him right now.”
You laugh a loud, snorting laugh. It bounces off the tiles. 
Hood tilts his head. “What’d I say?”
You catch your breath and wave your hand. 
“No, nothing, I’m sorry. I’ve just had a crappy night and that’s probably the nicest thing anyone’s ever offered to me.”
“I mean it,” Hood says. “I’ll scare him if you want.”
“As tempting as that is, I don’t want to be an accessory to a crime.”
You also don’t want to put your ex in the ICU, no matter how much he might deserve it. Best to let the universe do its thing.
“You’d be acquitted, don’t worry.” Hood leans against the stall. “I’d never letcha go to jail.”
You smile, your ears growing warm. “You don’t even know me. What if I deserve it?”
“Nah. I got a good sense about people. I can tell you’re sweet. Probably don’t even run through red lights.”
“I try not to,” you say, heat spreading to your face. 
“Yeah, a good girl. I figured as much.”
Your eyes widen. Hood coughs and rubs his neck. Even his coughs sound intimidating through the helmet, but that’s negated by his scrunched-up posture.
“Fuck. Sorry. That wasn’t a come-on,” he says. “I mean, it sounded like one, but I’m realizing what a creep I am, flirting with you in a bathroom with a zip-tied criminal. Sorry.” He shakes his head. “I hate myself.”
You grin. “It’s okay. You made my night better, actually. Thanks.”
“That’s a testament to how terrible your night’s been if I made it better.”
You shrug. “Could always be worse. I bet Jerry had an even shittier night than me.”
“You’d win that bet. But I—”
The window swings open with a clunk. Nightwing pops his head in. He looks at Hood, then you. 
“Uh,” he says. “Evening. What’s going on?”
“What’s going on is it took you almost ten minutes to get here,” Hood says, back in Vigilante Mode. “Did you get lost?”
Nightwing smiles with all his teeth. “I was actually cleaning up your mess at the Bowery, Hood. You’re welcome.” 
He looks at you. “Hi. Sorry about this. I hope we didn’t ruin your night. If there’s anything we can reimburse you for…”
You shake your head. “It’s okay. My night was already sunk. Don’t worry about it. Thanks for keeping Gotham safe.”
Nightwing laughs. “The pleasure is ours.”
“Alright, enough chattering, Dickwing,” Hood says. “Take him.”
He lifts the unconscious Jerry, pushing him up to the window. He does so effortlessly, his jacket riding up to reveal his skin-tight jumpsuit. 
You look away before he catches you staring. There’s definitely something wrong with you. 
Nightwing takes Jerry and waves at you. Then he disappears.
“So, uh,” Hood says. “I gotta go.”
“Oh! Right, of course. Sorry to keep you.”
“Now what’re you apologizing for?” he asks, and it almost sounds like a tease. You wonder what his smile looks like. What color his eyes are.
“Well, I really didn’t mean to keep you…”
“You didn’t keep me,” Hood says, and you can hear the warmth even through his decoder. “This is probably the best arrest I’ve ever made.”
He starts to climb through the window, then stops. He digs into one of the pockets of his belt and pulls out a scrap of paper. 
“This is my number,” he says. “Well, it’s kind of the vigilante hotline. But you can reach me here, in case you ever need help.”
Hood walks over to give it to you. He smells like gunpowder and oranges. He’s even larger this close, the width of his shoulders dwarfing you. 
“Thank you,” you say quietly. 
He nods and backs up, clapping his hands.
“Right. So I’ll go… Bye.”
Hood looks at you for a moment more. Then he hops up onto the window sill and slides out, somehow graceful despite his bulk. The window closes. 
Your dress has dried, which is nice. You walk out of the bathroom. It’s a miracle no one else has come in. 
You get your coat and this time, when you see the empty seat across from yours, you don’t burst into tears, which is progress. You call another Uber and go to wait for it at the front. The hostess approaches you.
“Ma’am?” she says, and holds out a small, plastic container. In it is a slice of tiramisu. 
“I didn’t order this,” you say.
“It was called in and paid for by a Mr. R.H. He wishes you a happy birthday.” 
“Oh. Thank you.”
You’re definitely leaving a five-star review on Yelp.
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dreaming-medium · 11 months
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Stray Kids Kinktober Day 7
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Stray Kids Kinktober Masterlist
Virginity - Jeongin
Word Count: 9.5k
Summary: Long distance friendships work most of the time. But what about when that friendship was supposed to be more? What about when the distance spans over several time zones instead of cities.
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He’ll always be the one that got away, that’s what you tell yourself. 
But it’s not like he’s gone completely, no, Yang Jeongin is still in your life every single day. He’s just not physically present now. 
The two of you went from spending every single waking moment together to then only seeing him when he’s able to come home during breaks in his idol schedule. 
Which is basically never. 
When he left Busan, he took your entire heart with you.
The night before he left for Seoul, you told yourself over and over again that you were going to confess to him. That you weren’t going to let him leave for stardom without knowing how you felt. 
And if he didn’t feel the same, then the distance would help. 
And if he did… then who knows what would happen. 
But, when the moment came. And Jeongin was hugging you goodbye in his childhood bedroom, you froze. 
“Jeongin, I need to tell you something,” you murmur into his chest during a tight hug. 
His hand runs down the back of your hair, his nose digging into the top of your head to smell your coconut shampoo. 
“What is it?”
Your heart was beating so fast, you thought it might explode. With the way your ear was pressed against his chest, you’re able to hear his heart thudding against his ribs as well. 
He’s probably just nervous about leaving, that’s all. 
Every thought flies from your head. Not a single word of your practiced speeches in the mirror come to mind. 
He’s leaving. He’s leaving. He’s leaving. 
“Y/N?” Jeongin tries to catch your attention by squeezing you tighter. 
“Just…” you trail off, blinking the tears away from your eyes. Your throat constricts and gets tighter and tighter. “Just don’t forget about me when you’re famous, okay?”
Jeongin rocks you both from side to side, a thoughtful hum coming from his throat. 
“I don’t think I could forget about you even if I tried, Y/N,” he whispers into your hair. “I’ll text you every chance I get, FaceTime and calls too. You know I will.”
The desperation in his voice causes the tears to finally fall down your cheeks. The other half of your soul was leaving. 
Who was going to walk to school with you? Split another menu item with you so that you both could have two different things? Watch scary movies with you and launch popcorn everywhere?
“I know, Jeongin.” A hiccup shakes your chest. “You’re going to be famous before you know it. And you’ll have other famous people lining up to be your best friend.”
“Yeah, well, that spot is already taken.”
Jeongin pulls away from you slowly to look down at your tear-ridden face. 
“No amount of distance will change that, okay? I’m serious.”
You bite your lip and look down at the floor with a pathetic nod. 
Two fingers hook under your chin to bring your eyes back up to his. They’re glossy and brimming with his own unshed tears. 
“Cross my heart,” he hushes and draws an ‘X’ over his chest with his free hand. 
“Cross my heart,” you sob and mirror the action. 
“Now, stop crying. You know you’re an ugly crier.”
“When are you leaving, again?”
-------------------------------------
It’s embarrassing to say, but you did have little faith in Jeongin to keep the promise. 
But you’ll be damned. Because he did so to the best of his abilities. 
No, you two were not attached at the hip anymore, sipping soda through the same straw. But you remained as close as ever. 
Conversation never dulled over texts. 
Sure, there would be periods of time where you would only hear from him once or twice a day. But that’s normal, especially with longer distance friends. 
Also, with a schedule like his, it’s a miracle that you get to hear from him at all. 
The first year was the hardest. When your birthday passed and he wasn’t physically in the room with you at midnight for the first time, it felt like a dagger to the heart. 
Yes, he was on FaceTime with you, but it wasn’t the same; and you both knew it. 
Life continued. It didn’t stop in his bedroom like you thought it would. 
The ache faded. You adapted. He adapted. But your friendship remained constant. 
-------------------------------------
“America?” Jeongin asks bewildered on the phone. 
“It’s a full ride, Jeongin! I’d be stupid not to accept it.” 
You’re laying on your bed, painting your nails with the phone in between your shoulder and your ear. 
“I mean, yeah, but like… didn’t you also apply to the University of Seoul?”
“I did, but they’re not offering me a full ride. You know my family’s financial situation, I have to go where the money is.”
“But… but what about plane tickets and such? Wouldn’t the cost just balance out?” he stutters. His tone sounds strained and choked. 
You almost wish you were on FaceTime right now so you could see his expression. He was never good at hiding secrets from you, you can read him like a book. 
“Not really… I’d probably just… live there for four years and come back when I’m done,” you mumble and then blow on your wet nails. “Jeongin, I really wasn’t expecting this type of reaction…”
The sadness of your voice can’t be helped. 
Jeongin had no idea you applied for the photography program at the California Institute of Arts. It was on a whim that you sent your application in. 
He makes a choked noise on the other end of the phone. “I-I’m sorry, Y/N. I’m happy for you, I really am! I’m over the moon excited! California! That’s-“ he clears his throat. “That’s incredible.”
He’s crying. Yang Jeongin is crying right now. 
You sit in silence for a moment and stare blankly at the wall in front of you. With each word that comes through the phone you can feel your heart breaking. 
“I can’t believe it!” He continues with his fake happiness. “California! Woo… just- just like in those movies we used to watch to-together!”
Clenching your jaw to stop your own tears, you pull the phone away from your face and tap the FaceTime button. 
The line rings a few times before you hear Jeongin gasp and stutter even more. 
“I have to go, Y/N. Chan is calling me to do something!”
“I didn’t hear—“
“Bye, Y/N!”
The line beeps three times to signal he hung up. Your phone displays the failed FaceTime call. 
Numbness floats through your chest for a moment before something harshly tugs on your soul. 
He was expecting you to come to Seoul. To come closer to him, wasn’t he? 
You drop your phone onto your bed and continue to sit there, staring into space. 
Yes, you wanted to go to Seoul with him, you desperately wanted to do that. 
But, you need to think in the long run here! Four years longer away from him in exchange for a lifetime free of debt. 
It’s only four years, max.
Tears prickle your eyes and you grit your teeth to try and stop them. 
Shit, Jeongin. Come on. 
-------------------------------------
You went to America. You made the hard choice, but the right one. And you know it, too. 
Jeongin knew it too. Hidden underneath all of the grief of you moving even further from him, he was endlessly proud and happy for you. 
But now, instead of a two hour train ride, you were an eleven hour plane ride away. Your day was sixteen hours behind his. 
Now, if he texted you and asked what you had for dinner, you would tell him about last nights’ meal or what you were thinking for later. 
There were only about two hours a day where you were able to talk at the same time and it was killing him slowly. 
When your classes for the day were ending, he was waking up for the next day. When you were getting ready for bed, he was finishing lunch. 
If he wanted to FaceTime you at the end of his day, it was the middle of your work day. 
You were losing each other. 
He was able to do two different cities in the same country, but two continents was its own animal. 
Jeongin would lay awake in bed at night, knowing you’re up and moving around. It would haunt him while he tossed and turned. 
Because in his mind, you’re also the one that got away. You were the only reason he almost didn’t audition to become a trainee. 
But, your entire life, you talked about attending the University of Seoul for college. So, he bargained with himself and became a trainee because eventually the two of you would be together. Right?
No.
Now, you’re in America. You’ve been in America for two entire years. 
Making new friends, meeting new people, experiencing everything without him. 
The knife twisted in his gut when he started noticing the same name floating around your conversations when you spoke about friends. 
Ryan. 
It was always ‘Ryan said this’, ‘Ryan did that’, ‘Ryan showed me this’. Jeongin wanted to scream and pull his hair out. 
It was only a matter of time until he got the phone call he was dreading. 
-------------------------------------
Jeongin had just sat down in the living room of the shared dorm when his phone rang. His seven other members were flitting in and out of the room. 
They all knew you very well. Jeongin talks about you so much they would swear you were everyone’s childhood best friend. 
The few times you were able to visit him in person before leaving for America, everyone always got along famously.
He answered your FaceTime call immediately. 
“Hey!” you say as soon as you see his face. “Are you busy right now?”
“No, not at all. We don’t have anything until later today. What time is it?” Jeongin looks at the clock. “It’s almost 9 PM by you, what are you getting ready for?”
You placed your phone down on your desk. “Well, ah— that’s actually why I’m calling you, I need your advice.”
Felix and Seungmin both walked into the living room, talking quietly and sat down on the couch opposite him. 
“What’s up? Are you okay?” Jeongin asks. 
Both the other boys perk at his tone and look over. 
“I’m um… going on a date tonight. Ryan had asked me out with him tonight. So I wanted your advice on what to wear, since you’re a fashion God.”
The floor beneath him crumbled. His heart fell through the sofa and into the Earth. Even his fingertips go numb. 
A date? You were going on a date? With Ryan? You were going on a date with Ryan. 
You were going on a date. With Ryan. 
“Jeongin?” You ask again when he doesn’t answer for a few moments. His eyes are completely unfocused and spaced out. 
He snaps out of it and clears his throat. “What um— What did you have in mind? It’s getting chilly out, right? Maybe wear a sweater? What about that cable knit one I got you?”
“Jeongin it’s LA! It’s always 70 degrees here.”
“But the restaurant might be cold.”
“I’ll bring a jacket then.” You laugh at him, unaware at the absolute anguish he was feeling. “I was thinking something like… you know that black skirt? That with this new tube top I got aaaand my knee high boots.”
“No.” He answers quickly, your face falls. “Why don’t you do the top with jeans?”
“It’s a nice place.”
“M-Maybe a dress then.”
“Jeongin.” 
Seungmin And Felix were watching everything unfold in front of their eyes. It was like a car crash, they couldn’t look away. 
Jeongin kept going, “I really liked that long sleeved red one you wore for Christmas last year.”
“Jeongin..”
“And if that doesn’t work I just think the sweater is the best option here.”
You stay silent, letting Jeongin finish his ramblings. 
There’s a solid fifteen seconds of silence between the two of you before you spoke up on the other line. “Are any of the other boys in the room with you?”
Jeongin immediately looks over at Felix and Seungmin. “Yeah, Min and Lix are here.”
You nod a few times, refusing to look at the camera. 
“I gotta go, Jeongin. I’ll text you later, okay?”
“Y/N.”
“Bye. I’ll text you when I get home safe.”
“Y/N, wait!”
Three beeps signal the end of the phone call. 
He sits there for a long moment, just holding his phone in his hand before he drops it onto the coffee table. 
His heart is shattering into a million pieces. 
Jeongin buries his face in his hands, elbows resting on his knees. 
Both of the other boys sit there, unsure of what to do next. They glance at each other and then back to Jeongin, who hasn’t moved. 
“Jeongin…” Felix calls out gently. 
The boy lifts his face up from his hands and looks over at his friends. “What am I supposed to do? A date. She’s going on a date. And I’m on the other side of the world.”
His throat bobs with a gulp and he pulls at his pants anxiously. 
“Jeongin.” Seungmin tries to grab his attention. “I think she was just looking for support.”
He’s right. He’s completely right, but Jeongin is so blinded with jealousy he can’t think straight. 
“I’ve loved her since we were thirteen and she’s going on a date with someone else.”
“You don’t even know if it will last.” Seungmin tries to comfort him. 
“They’re already super close, she talks about him all the time, it’s always ‘Ryan, Ryan, Ryan’. He’s her new best friend, not me. She was supposed to come here, to Seoul, not go to America. And we were going to.. we were going to–” He chokes up and can’t get it out. 
Jeongin abruptly stands up from the couch and snatches his phone off the table. 
“I’m going for a walk.”
And with that, he was gone. 
-------------------------------------
He won’t answer any of your texts or calls. 
It’s been two weeks since your date with Ryan and you still haven’t heard from Jeongin. 
It feels like a giant punch in the gut. 
All you want to do is talk to him but he’s nowhere to be seen. He hasn’t even sent you a text to say he’s busy or when he can finally talk again. 
Just radio silence. 
You thought about texting one of the other members to try and get through to him, but it feels so high school that you decide not to. 
All you want to do is talk to your best friend. 
But he doesn’t want to talk to you, it seems. 
It has to be because of the date. There’s no other explanation behind it. Everything was fine until you told him you were going on a date. 
You’ve been here for two years now! Did he expect you to stay single forever?
Just because he has a dating ban, doesn’t mean you do too. 
The more you think about it, the angrier you get. The smoldering ashes of your rage don’t dim. Not one bit, they just simmer and flicker on. 
It all bubbles and reaches a boiling point one Friday where you’ve had entirely too much to drink. 
Your friends dragged you out to a frat party where you drank yourself stupid. Nothing eventful happened at the party, but when you stumbled into your apartment and you were left alone with your phone, it all hit a head. 
[March 3 11:48 PM] 
Y/N: I’m home safe.
[March 4 4:22 PM]
Y/N: How’d your day go?
[March 5 7:31 AM]
Y/N: Jeongin please talk to me. I have so much to tell you
[2:01 PM]
Y/N: I saw a cute lil baby Fox on my way to class this morning, made me think of you :) 
[March 13 6:12 PM]
Y/N: You’re just going to keep ignoring me, huh?
[March 19 3:58 AM]
Y/N: YanG Jeongin. 
Y/N: you can’t fucking  ignore me forever 
Y/N: or maybe you can. 
Y/N: is that what you want???? Me to be gone????? All these fucking years of friendship down the drain????
Y/N: well fuck you too, I guess 
[4:02 AM]
Y/N: I got hired for your stupid fucjing group’s world tour. For when you come to America
Y/N: I fucking begged my professor to give me the gig for a project. It’s an internship. Was gunna see you next week and everythinfg 
Y/N: surprise, asshoke
Y/N: and now you won’t fucking talk to me. Do you realize how petty you’re being? How childish? Over what? A guy?????? I cant fucking back out now, my professor would kill me. 
[4:09 AM] 
Y/N: the whole tour I was gunna spend with you
Y/N: fuck you, Yang Jeongin. 
Y/N: and your stupid fucking childishness. 
Y/N: why cant you just be fucking happy for me for once. 
Y/N: it took me so long to get over you. Why do you keep doing this to me? 
[4:14 AM]
Y/N: Was I supposed to wait forever?
-------------------------------------
Jeongin stepped out of the shower and looked at his phone. 
Fifteen unread messages from you. It’s 4 AM in America, why are you awake right now?
He was so embarrassed over the way he acted two weeks ago that he couldn’t bring himself to talk to you. 
But my god, he only made it worse. 
Jeongin goes through every single emotion while reading your texts. You were going to be one of their photographers for the Manic tour? 
You were going to travel with them?
His thumbs quickly tap his phone and as he’s about to click the phone call button, he freezes in his tracks. 
‘It took me so long to get over you. Why do you keep doing this to me?’
‘Was I supposed to wait forever?’
His entire face drops, the excited palpitations of his heart turn sour and what feels like a knife is stabbed through his chest. 
Fuck fuck fuck. 
He stares down at his phone for what feels like an hour before he hurries out of the bathroom and right into Chan’s room. 
Chan looks over at his member with a startled expression. 
“Jeongin? Everything alright?”
“No, no everything is not alright.” He thrusts his phone into Chan’s hand. “What do I do? What should I say?”
Chan looks down at the phone with wide eyes, he quickly scans over the text. His face seems to go through all the stages of grief that Jeongin’s did, just a bit more watered down. 
“You have to call and apologize, Jeongin. She’s definitely a bit drunk right now, but you need to call her.”
Jeongin gulps and his hands clench and unclench several times before he takes his phone back from Chan. 
“Can I sit in here while I do it?”
“Yeah, of course.”
He sits down on the edge of Chan’s bed, staring down at his phone like a deer in headlights. 
Chan just stares at him, not knowing what to do. 
“What do I even say, Chan?”
“How about you start with ‘I’m sorry I was a dick and ignored you’?”
Jeongin groaned and curled in a bit, his jaw clenching with anxiety. 
His thumbs move around the screen, but they don’t tap the call icon. 
Chan watches. “It’s in the top right.”
“I know!”
“Well you weren’t doing anything.”
“Agh!”
Before he could second guess himself, he tapped the call icon and held the phone up to his ear. 
It rings … and rings… And rings…
It doesn’t even go to voicemail. Jeongin’s heart drops through Chan’s bed. 
He brings his phone away from his ear and checks that it’s your number he dialed. 
It is. 
He hangs up and immediately tries again. 
It rings … and rings… And rings…
Chan’s eyes follow him closely. His face falls when he figures out what’s going on. 
“Jeongin…” he whispers and wheels his chair closer to him on the edge of the bed. 
Jeongin doesn’t listen. He hangs up and tries again with shaking fingers. 
“I’m sure it’s just a bad connection, right?”
It rings … and rings... And rings…
He hangs up again with a cry. 
When he looks down at your conversation he sees another notification. 
[8:15 PM]
[Y/N has stopped sharing their location with you.] 
You blocked him. You really blocked him. 
“She’s drunk, Jeongin. Give it until the morning, yeah?”
Jeongin stares at his phone for a long moment. “Yeah.”
-------------------------------------
The next morning was filled with embarrassment and shame on your side. 
When you rolled over with a groggy mind and upset stomach, the first thing you did was check your phone. 
You were still in your dress from last night, your makeup was now smeared all over your face and onto your pillowcase.
A few texts from friends, a couple from Ryan, Instagram notifications, Snapchat, nothing from Jeongin. 
Your face pulled into an ugly sneer for a moment before it quickly morphed into horror when you tapped on your conversation. 
“Oh my god.”
You sat up quickly in bed, and almost immediately regretted it with how your stomach lurched and head spun. 
Rereading all the texts, you wanted to slam your hungover ridden head over and over again into the wall. 
You stopped sharing your location with him? Why would you…?
Oh, shit. You blocked him, didn't you?
Your hand runs through your matted hair nervously and you stare down at your phone. 
“You dramatic bitch!” You curse yourself and gnaw at your lip. 
What do you do? What do you do?
Obviously, you tap around to his contact and unblock his number. 
The texts immediately flood in. 
[March 19 4:25 AM]
Jeongin: Y/N, im so sorry
Jeongin: please answer 
Jeongin: Y/N please unblock me
[4:31 AM]
Jeongin: I don’t know what to say other than I’m sorry. I didn’t know how to go about apologizing 
Jeongin: you’re halfway across the world right now, Y/N, please. 
Jeongin: why can’t you just be a two hour train ride to Busan anymore. 
[4:38 AM]
Jeongin: I miss my best friend, please
Jeongin: I’m so endlessly proud of you. I brag about you every single day.
Jeongin: that picture you took of the Seoul skyline is still my background. The one with our hands. 
Jeongin: I like that it makes me think of you each time i open my phone
[4:44 AM]
Jeongin: i knew you couldn’t wait forever, that’s why it hurts so bad, Y/N
Jeongin: why did I choose this path? It hurts so bad, Y/N
Jeongin: i care about you so deeply
Jeongin: you’re the only one for me
Jeongin: when you left for LA, you took every part of me with you. 
[4:57 AM]
Jeongin: im so proud of you, Y/N. I guess I’ll just see you starting next week for the tour. 
Jeongin: i’ll wait for you
Jeongin: cross my heart
“Fuck,” you whisper, your voice cracking. Tears welling up in your eyes. 
Is he serious? 
What are you supposed to do right now?
A text from Ryan comes in as you’re staring at your phone. 
[12:41 PM]
Ryan: did you still want to come over tonight?
-------------------------------------
A week passed. 
Another entire week without talking to Jeongin. 
It was like color was slowly draining from your world. 
You know you should reach out to him, but shame and embarrassment kept blocking your path to your best friend again. 
But now, you had no choice. 
You stood in front of a large office building, your bag slung over your shoulder, heart in your throat. 
Once you stepped inside this building, it would be the first time in over two years that you and Jeongin were inside the same walls. 
If you had pictured this moment just a month ago, you would’ve been kicking open these doors and sprinting through the halls until you finally laid eyes on him again. 
But now, you find that it feels like your feet have melted into the concrete sidewalk. 
Looking down at your watch, you see that you still have another thirty minutes before you have to be in the meeting. And your mouth is painfully dry. 
A bell dings to your right and you see a coffee shop. 
Perfect. 
You quickly turn and walk into the shop, the same bell dinging to announce your arrival. 
The barista welcomes you in, takes your order, and tells you your total. 
As you’re fumbling for your wallet, an arm reaches out from behind you and swipes their card to pay for your coffee. 
“Oh, thank you! You didn’t have to—“ you turn and your breath catches. 
None other than Bang Chan stood behind you with that charmingly bright smile. 
“Hi Y/N,” he beams. 
“Chan!” you squeal and wrap your arms around him. You completely forgot everything for a moment, especially when he envelopes you in his strong arms. “What a nice surprise!”
“Hi, Y/N,” he says into your hair.
A throat clears behind you so you jump apart to apologize to the barista. She just laughs and takes Chan’s order. 
The two of you stand off to the side to wait for your drinks. 
“How was the flight in?” you ask, bouncing on the balls of your feet. 
“I’ll be honest, I slept through the whole thing, so I’m not sure.”
“It’s probably the only sleep you’ve gotten this week, hm?” 
Chan laughs and rolls his eyes, but he doesn’t deny it. 
The barista calls out a name.
Chan shifts from foot to foot. “I know what happened.”
You tense up and look down at your feet. 
“How much does he hate me?” 
If you’re being honest, you really don’t want to hear the answer. 
Chan scoffs, “Hate you? He doesn’t hate you. He’s just hurt, Y/N. The same way you are. You both hurt one another.”
Looking off to the side, you cross your arms. “Yeah, well. He started it.”
“Don’t be childish.” He nudges you playfully with his elbow. “Distance is hard for close relationships. It was a miracle that you two went this long without a fight.”
You nod your head and bite your lip. 
“I miss him so much.” 
“He’s just across the street, you know.” 
You laugh which causes Chan to laugh.
The barista calls out your name and then says Chan’s right after. 
“Come on, Y/N,” he loops his arm through yours and you both walk out of the coffee shop and into the office building. 
You sip your coffee nervously, the taste is barely hitting your tastebuds with how preoccupied your mind is. 
The elevator ride up to the appropriate floor is simultaneously the longest and shortest ride of your life. 
What’s the worst that can happen, Y/N? He punches you in the face? Pushes you down the stairs? Maybe grab your coffee out of your hand and dump it over your head?
As if he ever would. 
The doors open and you both step out of the elevator. 
Loud voices carry down the hall and you giggle. 
“It’s been so long since I’ve heard you guys in person and not over a phone.”
“It’s louder in person.” Chan sighs and leads you down the hall. 
Each step is a death march of sorts. 
The conference room door swings open before Chan could grab the handle. 
Your heart rate spiked and then flatlined. 
Jeongin stood there with wide eyes and parted lips. He stared at you with every single emotion known to man. 
“Hi Jeongin,” you whisper, holding your coffee tighter. 
He says nothing. 
Jeongin steps out of the doorway and wraps you up tightly in his arms. One hand on the back of your head, the other on your waist. 
A surprised noise leaves your lips and your eyes widen. 
The coffee cup is taken from your hand by Chan who slinks into the conference room, the door closing softly behind him. 
Without a second thought, you return the hug. 
When your arms wrap around him too, a sigh of relief leaves Jeongin’s mouth and his shoulders slump inwards even more. 
He didn’t expect you to hold him. He didn’t expect you to even want to see him. 
Your arms tighten around his body and it feels like ice thawing from his heart. 
Jeongin’s throat tightens and he buries his face into your hair, inhaling deeply. 
He hasn’t held you in so long. He’s missed your touch so badly. 
Jeongin, who hates skinship, couldn’t wait to have you touch him. 
Your hand begins to rub circles on his back and he melts into you like a puddle. 
“I’m so sorry, Jeongin,” you whisper. 
The dams of his heart begin to crack and break. Every pent up emotion he’s felt for the previous three weeks bubbles to the surface. He stifles a sob and holds you tighter. 
“No, please, I’m sorry, Y/N.” His chest sputters with a cry. 
You pull back from him and look up at him with red, glassy eyes. “We’re both idiots, aren’t we?” you push out a laugh in between tiny cries.
You’re trying with all your might not to let the tears fall down your cheeks.
Jeongin isn’t doing much better. His eyes are red and you can see the tears brimming in them.
Three weeks, you haven’t talked. It was the longest span of time the two of you went without speaking ever. 
You reach up and cup both of his cheeks. Jeongin’s eyes close and he leans into your touch.
“I missed you so much, Jeongin.”
He winces at your words and his lips pull into an even deeper frown,
Jeongin brings his hand up to cup yours against his face. “I’m so sorry, Y/N.” he repeats.
You step closer to him and press your lips to his cheek. Jeongin gasps under his breath and stiffens underneath you. The skin underneath your lips heats up.
“I forgive you, Jeongin.” You smile and back away from him. He watches you closely with wide eyes. “It’ll take more than that to get rid of me, you know?”
He smiles sheepishly and nods. “I forgive you too, you know.”
The elevator pings behind you and your new boss walks out with another important looking man. 
He smiles kindly at you. “Let us get this meeting started, no?”
-------------------------------------
The first concert went off without a hitch. 
Because of your position, you’re traveling with the entire crew and the members. Sleeping in the same hotels, going to the same restaurants, using the same transportation.
Sometimes you feel like a ninth member.
The boys all stood on stage with their hands interlocked to take their first final bow of the tour. You smile behind the camera and make sure to get all of them in the shot.
Jeongin spots you from the stage and smiles directly at you in the media pit. Your smile pulls even brighter and you focus the camera on him for some solo shots.
He winks once before turning to wave goodbye to some Stays in the floor seats.
Your heart flutters, it’s the happiest you’ve been in weeks. Hell, maybe even months.
All of the members exit the stage soon after and you walk with your security escort backstage.
You’re able to hear them before you see them. They’re as loud as ever, yapping about how well everything went, how happy they were to see so many Stays, how they can’t wait for the next show.
When you turn the corner to the dressing room with a bright smile on your face, they all turn and look at you.
“Congrats, guys!” you cheer and clap for them.
They all beam and say thank you. 
Jeongin crosses the room to stand by you. He still has his beanie on.
“What did you think?” he asks happily.
“I loved it! I think I took close to two thousand pictures. Maybe more. I’ll have to go through them on my laptop later.”
“That can wait!” Minho calls from the back of the dressing room. “We’re celebrating tonight!”
“Celebrating how, Mr. Lee?” you tease and hear his signature giggle.
“With booze and games back at the hotel.” Jisung answers for him. 
“Oooh,” your mood brightens. “I’m always up for that. You’re right, pictures can wait.”
“Great, then it’s settled.” Jisung claps his hands together once. “One hour, we all meet in my room.”
-------------------------------------
They were not joking around with the amount of booze on his hotel counter. You would swear you were at another frat party.
In your cup, you were nursing your third rum and coke of the night. You made the mistake of asking Changbin to make this one. After the first sip you knew this one was going to have to be taken slow. 
Everyone was sitting in various seats in the room, some on the bed, some on chairs or the floor. The TV was playing a movie that no one was paying attention to.
“Okay, Felix, truth or dare.” Hyunjin asks.
“Truth– no, dare– no, truth.”
“Final answer?”
“Truth.”
“Who was the last person you stalked on social media?” Hyunjin asks, taking a sip of his drink.
“Ah,” Felix thinks for a moment with pink cheeks. “Oh! An old friend from Australia.”
“Just a friend?” Minho jokes.
“Yes, yes, just a friend.” Felix laughs, waving him off. “Y/N, truth or dare?”
You perk up from your seat on the couch. Jeongin sat on your left, his entire side flush with yours.
“Um, truth, I don’t feel like getting up.”
“What’s your body count since you went to America?”
Your eyebrows raise and you cock your head to the side.
Jeongin stiffens up noticeably next to you, he practically jokes on the drink that he was taking a sip of. “Felix, you can’t just–”
“Two.” you answer quickly and take a large swig of your drink.
Jeongin’s head whips around to look at you as if you just shot everyone in the room. You stare back at him with a confused face.
“What?” you ask, getting defensive. Embarrassment crawls up your neck. “I know it’s not a lot, but I’ve been focused on class and everything, you know?”
“No, I just– I didn’t think that–” Jeongin stutters and looks everywhere but at you. “I didn’t know and you–”
“Tell you everything? I didn’t think you wanted to hear about it.”
“Was it Ryan?” he blurts without thinking.
Your face pulls into a shocked, angry expression. “Excuse me?”
“Was one of them Ryan?” he presses further. The alcohol gave him loose lips. 
“Why would–”
Chan interrupts the two of you, “Anyway! Your turn Y/N.”
You stare at Jeongin for another couple of moments before looking away at the group of men. You shake your head in disbelief before taking a deep breath. 
“Seungmin, truth or dare?”
-------------------------------------
“You know you didn’t have to walk me back to my hotel room, it’s only one floor up.”
Jeongin insisted on walking you back up to your room when everyone started turning in for bed. The hotel hallway was eerily quiet compared to the noise filled room that the two of you just left.
“You never know what could happen in a hotel hallway.” He reaches up and rubs the back of his neck nervously.
The two of you take the stairs up to your floor and walk in silence until you reach your room.
“Oh, wait. There was a picture I took tonight that I want you to see! Really quick, come on!” You quickly unlock your door and drag him into your room. 
Jeongin stumbles in and looks around. Your room is spotless, just a few clothes strewn about. 
You walk over to your camera sitting on the desk and pick it up, looking through the pictures for the one you wanted to show him.
He watches you closely, your face is only illuminated by the small screen display. Your tongue is sticking out between your lips in concentration. 
Two? You slept with two people since you’ve been in America? Jealousy began churning deep within his gut and coursing through his veins.
He’s been so busy with being a trainee, then debuting, then training and rehearsing and recording that he hasn’t… he hasn’t been able to be with anyone. Nor has he wanted to. Because none of the people he could have were you.
Jeongin was so hopelessly devoted to you.
Your phone dings on your desk and you look over at it, an angry sneer twitches at your lips and you roll your eyes and then look back at your camera.
“What was that?” Jeongin asked, stepping closer towards you.
You look at Jeongin, then at your phone, then to your camera. “Nothing, you don’t need to worry about it.”
Jeongin lifts a brow curiously. You look back up at him and roll your eyes.
“It’s Ryan.”
Oh, Jeongin saw red for a moment. But, he kept it to himself to the best of his abilities.
“How’s that going, by the way?” Jeongin asks. He really does not want to know the answer. But, morbid curiosity got the better of him.
You hesitate, your finger stops moving on the camera to scroll through the album.
“It didn’t work out.” you tell him without looking up.
“Oh, I’m sorry.”
You bite your lip and look up at him. “Are you? Are you really, Jeongin?”
Jeongin is taken aback by your small outburst. “Y/N, I–”
“Because you seem to be super invested in him, Jeongin.” you lower the camera, staring Jeongin in the eye. “Every time I bring him up, your eye twitches. You can’t fool me, I know you too well. I know you hate the guy.”
“I don’t hate him.”
“Then what if I did fuck him?”
Jeongin scoffs and looks away angrily, he crosses his arms over his chest. “I wouldn’t care.”
Oh, he cares so much. His skin is fucking crawling.
“Look at me, Jeongin.”
His jaw clenches and he hesitates.
You put your camera back on the table and cross the final few steps until you reach him. You reach out and grab his chin between your thumb and pointer finger, forcing him to look at you.
Jeongin’s eyes widen and he stares at you.
“Look at me and tell me you don’t care.”
His face twists in anguish. He stares deeply into your eyes, flickering back and forth between them. His mouth screws up in a frown, eyebrows pulling together.
He gulps.
“Say it.” you push. “Say you don’t care if Ryan fucked me.”
“I…” he opens his mouth and promptly shuts it. He swallows again. “I can’t.”
“Why?” you hush.
The grip on his chin tightens even more when he tries to look away from you.
Alcohol thrums through both of your bodies to create a pleasant buzz and lift your confidence levels with one another. 
“Why, Jeongin?”
“Because!” he cries out. His arms uncross and he grabs both of your shoulders tightly. “Because maybe I want to be the one fucking you! Is that what you wanted to hear?”
You’re taken aback for a moment. Truly, you didn’t expect him to be so crass.
“Because maybe I would lie awake in bed at night thinking about being your one and only.” Jeongin steps towards you and you back up until your knees hit the edge of the bed. “Because you drive me fucking crazy and I want you all to myself. Because I can’t stop thinking about fucking you into my mattress every single night!”
Your hand drops from his face but he snatches it up in his own larger one. 
“Do you understand how bad I want you?” he whispers harshly. His nose is scrunched up and he’s talking through gritted teeth. “I’ve wanted you so badly for so many years. I can’t even look at anyone else because you exist. I’ve only ever had eyes for you. No one else exists, no one else makes me feel like you do.”
“How do I make you feel?”
Jeongin stares at you for a moment before he brings your hand down to press at the crotch of his pants.
Through his sweats you can feel just how hard he is. Both of you whimper at the touch.
“I want you so bad, it hurts.” Jeongin begs. “I don’t want anyone else. I want you. I want you to be my first. I can’t be your first, let me be your last.”
Your heart is hammering against your ribs. 
Is this really happening?
“Please, Y/N,” Jeongin whimpers. “I’m begging you.”
He’s begging you to take his virginity right now? Right now?
“Now?” you ask, bewildered.
His dick twitches in your hand and he closes his eyes in what looks like pain, but you both know it’s pleasure.
“Please.”
The tension in the room snaps. 
“Jeongin.” you grab his attention.
His eyes snap open and look at you.
“Kiss me.”
He gasps, cock jumping in your palm again before he smashes his lips against yours with a grunt. 
He’s absolutely devouring your mouth with his. It’s wet and sloppy and completely inexperienced. But what he lacks in experience, he makes up for in enthusiasm.
Moans are slipping from his lips left and right as your tongues intertwine together.
Your hand slides from his dick up his body to tangle in his hair. Your other reaches up and you grab one of his from your shoulder to place it on your waist. He paws at your shirt with his long fingers.
You nip gently at his bottom lip and he moans.
“Am I dreaming?” he whispers against your mouth.
You reach around and pinch his side. He yelps and jumps a bit. 
“No, not dreaming.”
He swoops down and locks your lips once more. Your fingers massage his scalp and comb through his hair. 
You part from his lips for a second to yank your shirt off. Jeongin watches you with hungry eyes, he’s trying so hard to maintain eye contact with you, but he keeps glancing down at your chest.
“Yours too.” You point at his shirt.
It looks like he practically ripped the thing off. It flies off the top of his head and onto the floor. His bare arms come around your exposed waist, his lips searching for yours.
He’s frantic in his movements, like if he isn’t kissing you, he might die.
You grab his hands and bring them up to your bra clasp.
“I don’t–”
“Learn.” you hush against his lips and suck on his bottom lip. He moans and his fingers grasp at the clasp clumsily. 
He’s so focused on trying to unclasp your bra that you take the opportunity to kiss his jawline with an open mouth. Your teeth nip at his sharp jawline and he gasps.
Down his neck you trail your hot, wet kisses. 
With each passing moment, you can feel his desperation growing and growing. A frustrated whine comes from his chest when he can’t get it.
You bite his collarbone harshly and his knees buckle slightly, but he keeps himself up.
“Y/N!” he cries out, pulling so hard at your bra you think it might snap in half.
You giggle and have mercy on him. You reach behind yourself and unhook your bra in one movement.
It drops to the floor and this time, Jeongin has no reservations about staring at your naked chest. His lips part and his own chest starts heaving with pants. 
Another laugh comes from you. 
His eyes flicker up to yours for a split second.
“Are you going to touch me or just stare?” you tease him with a sultry smirk.
Both of his hands come up and cup both of your breasts in greedy handfuls. You moan at the sensation and wrap an arm around his neck, bringing your lips back to his.
Jeongin fondles your breasts, thumbs brushing over your nipples gently. Your back arches into his touch.
“Do it again,” you breathe out. He immediately follows your command, pinching and rubbing at the sensitive buds. Every single one of your noises is swallowed by his wet, swollen lips.
His kisses leave your lips and travel down your neck. They’re too gentle and innocent for your liking. 
“Fuck, bite me, Jeongin.” you beg.
Without any hesitation, his teeth sink into where your neck meets your shoulder. You cry out and roll your hips into his. 
The hands on your tits stutter in their movements before speeding up, the lust consuming his brain. 
He bites again and again just to feel your hips move against his, to hear your moans right next to his ear.
The tent in his gray sweats seems painful at this point. He continues to rut against your body for any sort of relief. 
Threading your fingers through his hair, you pull his mouth off your neck. HIs lips break their suction seal with a pop and he looks into your eyes.
He already looks so fucked out it sends a bolt through you.
“Let me make you feel good,” you whisper against his lips. 
If it’s his first time, you want it to be memorable. 
He doesn’t put up a fight at all. His mind is completely gone, he just nods over and over again. You could tell him ‘jump’ and he’d say ‘how high?’.
Your hands slide down his sculpted chest, mapping out each of the muscles. Jeongin keens under your touch, closing his eyes and sighing in pleasure.
When your hands get to the top of his pants, you quickly slide them down, taking his boxers with them. 
Gray sweats pool around his ankles and his long, hard cock bobs as its set free from its fabric confines. 
Jeongin hisses when the cold hotel air hits him.
You lean up on your tiptoes and capture his lip between your teeth for a moment at the same time you grab his dick gently.
The whine he lets out is sinful.
He’s been dreaming of your touch for so many years, and now that your hand is finally wrapped around him, he can’t believe it. 
You release his lip and it snaps back into place.
Slowly, you slide your hand up and down his cock. So much precum is weeping from the head of his cock. Every movement pulls a noise from Jeongin. 
“Sit on the edge of the bed, Jeongin.”
He gulps and obeys your order, his cock standing proud between his parted legs.
Jeongin watches you closely as you sink down to the ground onto your knees. He fists the sheets on either side of his body with white knuckles.
He has to be dreaming. This has to be one of his wet dreams where he wakes up with ruined pants and sheets. 
Settling between his thighs, you run your hands up his legs. Jeongin watches your movements with a fucked out expression. The way your fingers glide over his skin raises goosebumps. 
One of your hands comes out and grabs his cock with a gentle, yet firm, grip. His eyes snap shut and he can’t stifle the moan that punches from his chest. 
His cock is so slippery from his own precum that your hand glides over the skin easily. 
You pump him up and down for a bit, alternating your grip from firm to gentle, changing the tempo from fast to slow.
His hips won't stay still on the bed, he can’t keep still even if he wanted to. The pleasure from your hand is fucking killing him. It’s all consuming.
You smirk. “Jeongin, look at me.” 
He cracks his hazy eyes open just to see you lean forward and lick a fat stripe up his entire cock.
Jeongin cries out and his head tilts back. His hips jump around and his legs feel like they go numb.
You open mouth kiss down the sides of his shaft.
The pleasure shoots up his spine, he can practically taste the electricity. 
Just when he thinks it can’t get better, you wrap your entire mouth around him and sink down to take as much of his cock as you could without gagging.
His hand flies to your hair and grips tightly. The strands weaving through his lithe fingers.
Up and down, you bob on his shaft, making sure to let the saliva pour from your mouth and down over his balls. 
Jeongin doesn’t even realize how hard he’s pulling your hair until you moan around him. He cries out at the vibrations and pulls even harder. 
Your other hand wraps around whatever you couldn’t fit in your mouth. 
He’s on cloud nine, he can barely breathe. Every intake of breath takes his full concentration, you’re making him feel so fucking good.
No matter how many times he’s touched himself and imagined it was you, it could never compare to the real thing.
His eyes follow your head, watching his cock disappear into your mouth as you stare back at him with those sinfully innocent eyes.
You’re going to be the fucking death of him. 
He’s only able to last for a few moments with your mouth on him before Jeongin is panting out.
“Y/N, you- you gotta, ha– You gotta stop or– or I’ll– fuuuuck– Im c-close and I– hng! But I wanna–! I wanna–! I wanna fu-huck you!”
You swirl your tongue around his head and pop off his cock, sit dribbling down the sides of your mouth.
“You wanna fuck me, Jeongin?” you ask him with a sweet tone. It fucking kills him.
“Yes,” he pants out, “It’s all I want.”
“You’re gonna let me pop your cherry?” you ask, looking up at him through your lashes. After you ask that, you lean over and bite his inner thigh.
Jeongin yelps and tightens the hand in your hair. 
An embarrassed flush covers his neck and ears. “Please, Y/N.” he whimpers. 
Smirking, you stand up from the floor and make quick work of your own sweatpants. Jeongin watches you like a starved man at a buffet. His tongue darts out of his lips and licks them when your panties drop to the ground.
“How do you want me, baby?” you ask him sweetly. 
He tears his eyes away from your naked pussy to look up at you. He gulps.
“How do I…?”
“You want me on top? You want to fuck me from behind? You want to be on top? How do you want me, sweet Jeongin?” Your hand comes out and caresses his cheek. “How do you want our first time?”
His cock jumps at the thought of you in each of those positions.
But one sticks out.
“Need you underneath me,” he whispers, keeping eye contact while his hands come up to rest on your hips.
Your hand cards through his hair. It’s so fluffy.
“Whatever you want, Jeongin.”
Leaning down, you press your lips to his in a sweet kiss. It’s the tamest one you’ve shared tonight.
When you break apart, he chases after your lips, but you crawl onto the bed, laying down and making yourself comfortable on the pillows.
Jeongin follows your movements with innocent, fucked out eyes. He licks his lips again and his eyebrows pull together as he watches you.
You part your legs and run a finger through your sopping wet folds, making a show out of displaying yourself to him. He watches it like a hawk.
Slowly, you bring the finger up and stick it in your mouth, tasting your own juices.
“Come on, Jeongin. You said you were going to be my last.”
He turns and scrambles onto the bed, crawling over you and smashing your lips together desperately. Both of your legs wrap around his waist while he devours your mouth with his own.
His tongue is everywhere in your mouth, licking your own, invading and licking the roof of your mouth, coming out to lick your lips.
When you whimper, you feel his cock jump against your heat. Your hips roll onto his and his hips buck downwards into yours.
Both of you are moaning, panting messes when he pulls away.
“I don’t have a condom.” he says painfully.
“I’m on the pill.”
“Are you sure?”
“Jeongin, please fuck me already. I’ve waited my entire life for this.” you smile up at him with shiny eyes.
His eyes search yours with an equally sentimental look in them.
He nods once and lines himself up with your entrance. His head rubs along your folds a few times, making himself slick.
Your head tilts backwards into the pillows.
“No, please, look at me.” he begs breathlessly.
Immediately, your eyes snap open and you gaze into his.
Two heartbeats pass and he presses into you, his cock invading your soaking walls. The stretch feels so fucking good, you’re so horny for him.
Jeongin is the one that has the harder time keeping his eyes open, his pupils are blown out. His jaw drops in a strained moan, face screwing up almost painfully with how much pleasure is coursing through his veins.
His hips stutter a few times until he bottoms out.
“Holy fuck,” he whines. His hands clenched into fists next to your head. 
“You feel so fucking good, Jeongin,” you praise him, your own voice is fucked out. 
“I’m not going to last,” he cries and buries his face into the crook of your neck.
“Don’t worry about me,’ you coo.
His hips buck again and he whimpers into your skin. 
“Jeongin,” you call to him and he lifts his head. His hair is so ruffled and messy, lips are swollen and wet, cheeks covered in a permanent blush. “Fuck me until you cum.”
His eyes roll back in his head and his hips pull out and slam right back into yours. Both of you cry out, your back arches.
Jeongin continues to fuck into you at a sloppy, harsh pace. His eyebrows furrow in concentration. He looks down at your tits bouncing with each thrust, his head dips down and he takes one of your nipples into his mouth.
“Jeongin!” you cry out and arch into him. He moans around your nipple, biting it gently and rolling it with your teeth.
His thrusts are getting frantic.
He pulls off your tit with a pop and comes up to your face.
“Need you to cum with me,” he murmurs before capturing your lips. “Need it, need it, fuck! I need it, Y/N!”
“Give me your hand.”
He balances his weight on one of his hands and holds out his other one. You guide him down to your folds and press his long, beautiful fingers against your clit.
“Mmmm…” you moan when you guide him to rub in circular motions.
He feels you clench around him and he whimpers into your open mouth. 
“Just like that, Jeongin.” you rasp. “Keep that up and I’ll cum on your cock.”
“Jesus.” 
He rubs faster in some moments, slower in the others. His mind is swimming in the clouds. Everything feels so fucking good. 
Your whines get louder and louder, each one more higher pitched than the last.
“Close, close, close…” you breathe out against his lips. “Hah!”
Thank god. He’s been this close to blowing his load for the last four minutes, but he needed to feel you. He needed it.
“Yes, Jeongin! Yes!”
His thrusts get harder, his rubbing on your clit matches the timing. 
You reach around his back and scratch your nails up his back.
“Come on, Y/N.” he whines. “Cum for me, Y/N. Need to feel you cum around me.”
Your pussy clenches down on him impossibly tight, your head is thrown backwards and your mouth stretches open in a silent scream.
It throws him over the edge, he spills into you with one of the most feral noises he’s ever made in his life. It tears from deep within his chest.
He cums forever, painting your insides white. 
Jeongin buries his face in the crook of your neck as you both come back down to Earth. Your heavy breathing fans out over his back.
One of your hands starts rubbing up and down his naked skin. It’s warm and inviting and he wants to curl into it forever.
He eventually pulls his face away from your neck and looks down at you with stars in his eyes.
“Good?” you ask.
Jeongin laughs and leans down, pressing a kiss to your nose. “It was perfect.”
“Promise?”
“Cross my heart.”
2K notes · View notes
blegh-110 · 4 months
Text
ii. "you told me i was pretty when i looked like a mess" | Sam Monroe
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Pairing: older brother's best friend!Sam Monroe x fem!reader
Summary: Best friend’s older brother!Sam Monroe who you could always count on when you were 13 and he was 15.
Warnings: None
Word count: 976
Next Part
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Your hands shook as you applied some tinted lip balm, the tube almost slipping out of your hand because of the sweat forming. 
It was the night of the school’s winter dance, and you were asked to go with a boy who was in your Spanish class. He sat in front of you and always asked to copy your homework, and you’d oblige because every single time he’d say “you’re amazing” and “what what I do without you?” And the occasional tease, “these better be right, or i'm gonna have to ask someone else.” 
It felt too good to be true when he asked you to go with him to the dance, but he was just so nice to you when you saw him. In the end, it was too good to be true when you overheard his friends ask him why he chose you and not the girl he actually liked. 
“She’s been letting me copy her homework, I thought this could be like a ‘thank you’.” 
“But it’s fucking awkward, none of us know her, our dates don’t either, and she’s not really talking. She's just there.”  
You did feel out of place the entire time. Apparently the girl he liked was friends with the other guys dates, they all ran in the same circle and you were the odd one out. While they had their inside jokes and well established friendships, you barely knew your own date. And he didn’t really bother to include you. So you did end up just sitting and listening and wishing you could partake. 
The second you found out his true reasoning to ask you out, the tears came and you wanted to go home. But how? Your date’s mother was the one to drop everyone off. Your brother was out with his girlfriend, and you knew he’d be pissed if he had to leave and pick up his crying, little sister. And the last thing you wanted was to get bombarded with questions from your parents if you did go home so early. 
You called the only person you could think of. You weren’t sure what the plan was, but you just didn’t want to be alone. 
And just seeing him, someone who you feel safe in the presence of, you run into his arms and let the tears flow. It was hard to make out from your watery explanation, but he understood what happened and held you just a little tighter. Despite his anger, there was nothing he could do. They were still in middle school and Sam was a sophmore in high school, he’d look like the loser if he went inside and beat up a kid two years younger than him. 
“Oh, god.” You said as you wiped away your tears only to see the blackness from your mascara. You could only wonder how pathetic you look. This was supposed to be a special night, and it had barely begun before it turned into the worst night of your life so far. 
“Stop that, you still look pretty.” He wipes your cheeks with his long sleeve, trying to wipe away your mascara but really just dragging it around. 
“Thanks.” You whisper, not really believing it.  
“No, I’m serious. You got that kind of Courtney Love-Hole look, y’look cool.” He leaned back to get a better look at you and smiled. You loved when he smiled, when he was happy and sweet, especially towards you. And in the moonlight, he was even more handsome.
With it being winter and cold outside, Sam gave you his jacket and slung his arm around you as he began to walk you home. You thought you could die at that very moment and be the happiest girl in the world. 
“So what should I do to whats-his-stupid-fucking-face?” He knew wasn’t going to do anything to the kid, but he wanted to lift your mood. You smiled and shook your head. Honestly, you wanted nothing to do with him but you played along.
“Just punch him real hard in the face, I want it to be swollen and ugly.” 
“Yeah, yeah that’s good. And let’s take his money, I’ll- no listen to me,” he interrupted himself at your snort and continued, “I’ll kick the back of his knees, hold him down, then you take the five dollars out of his pocket, got it?” 
You giggled as you imagined it, kicking the back of his knees. You saw him do it to your brother after he slapped the sunburn on your shoulder and that was the most you had ever laughed. You’ll never forget your brother’s shock and pointed finger to the smaller slap mark on his back, “she did it to me first, look!”
“Nah, she wouldn’t do that.” 
“And we’ll get hot chocolate with the money.” And he pointed to your favorite cafe and walked towards it. 
“Sam, wait, I don’t have any money on me right now.”
“That’s okay, it’s on me. Something good has to come out of tonight.” He dragged you to the building, and in there he bought you a hot chocolate with extra milk. Which was something you appreciated because you burned your tongue really bad drinking your hot chocolate a few weeks ago and he saw. 
What followed was some talking about movies, music, and embarrassing stories(your favorite one being that he fell off his chair in class because he was leaning backwards). Then a trip to the park where you two spun on the merry-go-round until you couldn’t see straight or stop laughing. 
And when he finally took you home, he gave you a short peck to your head and wished you a good night. It was that moment you believed he liked you as well, and you dreamed of what it would be like to be boyfriend/girlfriend with him.
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banner by @dollywons
370 notes · View notes
munsonsreputation · 8 months
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i'm falling in love, again
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steve harrington x fem!reader
word count: [6.7K]
warnings: no use of y/n, friends to lovers, infidelity (reader's ex), characters are in their early 20s, modern!au (they've got cellphones and text messages okay!!!), cursing, some angst w/ fluff ending.
summary: you thought the plane was going down, but somehow, someway, all the fates and all the stars aligned, and now you were lost in labyrinth of Steve Harrington’s mind forever.
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“Hey doll,” Steve greeted softly, holding out a bunch of flowers towards your figure that stood slouched against the wooden doorway, sadness filled orbs meeting his.
You pouted deeply, eyes brewing with tears that blurred him out before you blinked and set them loose. He made a sound, sighed and tsking before he finally closed the space and wrapped you up in his arms, letting you fall against him while you wept into the crook of his neck.
“H-hi Steve.” You croaked, fingers sinking into his back, trying to anchor yourself as he rubbed your skin up and down attempting to sooth the biting warmth that swarmed your body.
Pulling away slightly to look down at your tear-stained face, he gave you a tight smile and gripped you a little tighter.
“Let’s go inside, yeah?” He suggested.
You nodded, pulling yourself away from him and swiping your cheeks with your fingers, letting him step into your apartment watching as he locked the door shut and toed off his shoes.
It was emptier than usual, missing footwear from the shoe rack and lonely pegs of the key holder that used to hold another’s. Your ex had finally come around to pick up his things that were left behind. Even if it was a month of separation and him overseas preparing you to see him, it sucked the soul out of your body when he knocked and stood on the other side waiting for you to let him in now that the locks were changed and his spare was no use.
“Sorry for the mess,” You sniffled, gesturing pathetically around the disheveled area, still trying to get rid of everything that reminded you of him and the things that he left behind.
He shook his head, setting the flowers down on the kitchen table and walking over to you. You hated crying in front of him mostly because he hated seeing you so sad, but you couldn’t help what you were feeling inside.
“Don’t apologize. I’m never gonna judge you.” He reminded you never wanting you to feel bad for feeling how you did.
His hands fidgeted with your fingers, rubbing comforting circles over your skin, hoping to get the slow trail of tears to stop pouring and your breathing to even out.
“What do you wanna do?” He proposed, speaking so delicately, careful and considerate, “I can help you get rid of whatever you want out or we can sit down and talk, or we don’t have to talk at all. Whatever you want…I’m here.”
The truth is, Steve was always there through the good, the bad, the ugly, and the stunning. He was one of your closest friends who saw you through and through everything and no matter what, he always made it clear that the second you needed him or anybody, he would be there.
He was the first one to officially meet your ex before he even asked you to be his girlfriend. It all happened when you went on your first date that was soon running a little too late into the evening. Steve was sitting by himself in the corner of the pizzeria as per your request just in case your date turned out to be horrible and you needed a convenient way out.
Three taps of your foot against the tiles meant, “please get up and get me out of there,” and so when he saw you do just that, he didn’t hesitate to stand up and “run into you” by coincidence.
“Oh, hey! I didn’t know you were going to be here tonight.” Steve beamed, holding his arms out wide as you smiled and stood up from your seat, embracing him in a hug.
“Hey Steve!” You greeted, pulling away and turning to your date.
“This is my friend, Steve! We actually live in the same apartment complex.” You explained, watching as they both shook hands and Steve nodded towards him.
Steve snapped his fingers, pointing at you as if he remembered something. “Don’t forget that maintenance is shutting off the water at 2 in the morning—that leak is still going at it.” He cursed, shaking his head.
You gasped, nudging his shoulder. “You’re so right! I totally forgot about that.”
Passing your date an apologetic look, you picked up your purse and slung it over your arm.
“I’m so sorry, but I think I should head home. I definitely want to shower before the water gets shut off for god knows how long.”
He stood up, nodding her head, and gesturing out the windows, “Sure thing! Did you want me to drop you—”
Steve cut him off, shaking his head and draping his arm over your shoulders.
“I think we could walk together, just makes sense since we live in the same place and it’ll save you some gas.” Steve assured him, as you nodded in agreement and said your goodbyes.
It wasn’t long before your arm hooked over his and you two were walking the busy streets back to your apartment complex only a good ten minutes away. You and Steve often walked together to do groceries, get late night pizza, or just to get out of your apartments for a while. He never let you walk alone though… that was always his rule.
“Did he say something stupid?” Steve suspected, peering over at you.
You shook your head, silently continuing to walk with him.
“Is he not funny?” He tried again.
You laughed this time, pushing against him gently as he nearly tripped over his own feet.
“He wasn’t not funny.” You chided.
He wanted to beg to differ, seeing as though you spent most of the date nodding and smiling, not much laughter going on, but maybe he was just reading too much into it. But he tried to think up what could have made you want to cut the date short and head back home thirty minutes earlier than you were supposed to.
“Do you not find him attractive?” He said once more.
Your lips curled, eyes shooting up to think to yourself as you neither shook your head nor nodded, just simply shrugging.
“He’s great, I had fun… I just don’t know where this is gonna go.” You pointed out, stopping at the crosswalk.
He leaned over you, fist knocking into the button, waiting for the light to turn red.
“Where do you want it to go?” He met your eyes, staring into them deeply, hoping to get a glimpse of the future, yet all he could see was the slight reflection of himself.
You smiled unknowingly, taking a deep breath and letting your shoulder fall.
“We’ll see.” You whispered, tugging him along through the crosswalk.
Two piles were made in the middle of your living room: trash and donate. You and Steve went through boxes of stuff your ex had left behind, clothes, old records, knick knacks — everything that he had left for you to deal with, as if breaking your heart wasn’t enough.
“Why did he always dress like he was in boarding school?” Steve cackled, folding up a pair of slacks that added to the already tall pile of dress clothes that would be going to the Salvation Army.
You giggled, sifting through the rest of the stuff you had set aside, and hid in the back of your closet, hoping to avoid until now.
“He was really going for that stuck up, private school, douchebag look I guess.” You scorned, huffing as you chucked a meaningless valentines card into the trash bag.
You didn’t care for keeping anything from him even just for memory's sake — if anything you wanted to burn him out of your memory and forget that he ever even existed to begin with.
“Well, on the bright side, someone else is gonna be wearing these clothes to their first professional interview, but hopefully whoever it is isn’t such a jackass.” Steve scoffed, moving the pile aside to make space for the rest of the things.
“Yeah, let’s hope.” You breathed, reaching the bottom of the box, plucking out the white envelope that laid by itself.
You froze for a second, throat tightening up and your heart thumping against your chest a little stronger. It had been the thing you found that confirmed your suspicions that your ex wasn’t being as loyal as he was claiming to be. In fact, he had been sharing his devotion to another woman… one that you thought was just a friend from work, though you should have read the signs way before then.
“You okay?” Steve furrowed his brows at the sudden silence, turning to see you go rigid while you stared at the piece of paper.
The front of it was marked with her initials and his in a big red heart, encasing their names like it was some kind of holy matrimony. The other side stained with her red lipstick marks that she had left behind. The contents of the letter: a confession of her love for him — how she couldn’t believe she had gotten so lucky to find someone whom she got to see every day even if it was during boring meetings and long nights at the office.
Your heart felt like it had dropped from its cages right down to your gut, a sort of free falling feeling similar to the rise of an elevator that would come plunging down. You wanted to be in denial, re-reading the letter over and over again hoping that maybe your mind was seeing things that they weren’t supposed to — but that was the joke of it all.
You weren’t supposed to see it, but you did.
You felt the rise, quickly taking you up to the floor that you were supposed to be on, only to be left hugging yourself, not even being given a warning to brace the crash.
“I—It’s the letter.” You let out, swallowing the lump in your throat, eyes staying glued to the floor as you tossed it aside.
Steve was the first to know about it, too. You had called him, practically speechless not knowing how to go about it. He swore the first five minutes of the phone call was him asking you if you were alright and if you were still there — nothing could have prepared him for what you were about to say next.
“I…I think he might be cheating on me.” You whispered, closing your eyes, doing your best to not take it out of proportion.
Steve just jeered, puffing out a ridiculous laugh. “Why do you think that? How could he ever cheat on someone as amazing as you? I think you might be overthin—”
“I found a letter.” You confessed, and he quickly shut up then the line went silent for a few seconds.
“W-what kind of letter? I-I mean, what does it say?” He stammered over his words, still trying to grasp what was happening.
“A love letter.” You cracked, taking a harsh breath, rising up from your place on the floor to get as far away from it as possible to somehow make it feel like it wasn’t real.
“I’m so sorry,” Steve rushed the apology out.
A shuffle sounding over his voice as you let out a sob and paced your apartment panicked and distraught.
“What do I do? I—I never imagined this…never in a million years. I don’t know what to do, Steve… please, tell me, what can I do?”
You were begging, trying to make sense of the situation, even trying to see it through when you both knew there was no going back from here.
Steve wouldn’t let you do that to yourself.
A knock sounded on your door, interrupting your tears as you choked, wiping them off your cheeks, pulling the phone away from your ear slightly. You unlocked it, opening it a bit only to be met with him on the other side. He caught his breath, pushing the door open with a gently hand.
“I don’t know, but right now, I’m here okay? I’ll be here as long as you need.”
Steve stayed over that night, holding you in your arms as he read the letter to himself, trying to understand why that son of a bitch could do something so cruel to you. And when your phone went off with a text message from him, saying he’d be spending the night at the office doing paperwork ahead of the big meeting the next morning — Steve was the one who texted back for you.
You both knew he was lying, spending the night at her place instead.
It took everything in Steve to not blow up, to pounce on the moment to tell him that you had found the letter and figured everything out. That he best not even bother to come home at all because you’d be throwing him out.
But he resisted… and he always did until you were ready.
He resisted the next day when you told him to go home and get some rest after he had spent the night worrying about you and soothing you back to sleep when you would wake with the nightmares of your boyfriend and his mistress.
He resisted when you told him that you’d figure out a way to break up with your him soon, even when he knew you were holding out.
He resisted when he came to check up on you a few days later, only to be met with your boyfriend answering the door, him and his stuff still there.
He resisted when you and your friends went out for dinner, and you had dropped the bombshell on them, and could say nothing when they asked if you had broken it off already.
He never understood why you waited so long to call things off, when deep down you knew how wrong the situation was. He tried to put himself into your shoes, to imagine what you must be feeling inside that made you want to stay and be tolerated instead of celebrated. But he couldn’t feel it. He only wished you could see yourself from his eyes, then maybe you’d see it a little clearer.
That you didn’t need to stay in the footnotes or the bylines of his life, when Steve was right there, so ready and willing to make you his temple, his mural, and his sky.
But he sat and watched you until you were ready to let go — until you pulled the dagger out and lost the weight of the person who was holding you back and taking advantage of your love.
He swiped the letter away, tucking it within the folded clothes to get it out of your sights. He scooted closer to you, a tender hand coming to cradle your head and let you rest it on his shoulder.
“Do you think she knew about me?” You marveled aloud, sniffling as you grazed up at him.
He didn’t answer, just letting his fingers pull your hair behind your ears, tucking them away.
“She had to have known, right?” You stared at him, hoping he would have the answers that you’d been longing to find even after all this time.
But Steve wasn’t an expert on all this. He didn’t want to fill your head with narratives that he didn’t know were exactly true; he knew it would only make you spiral with the would’ve, could’ve, should’ve’s, but to quite honest, there was nothing that you could have done to fix it and no answer Steve could have given you to change the past.
“He didn’t deserve you. I know that much.” Steve whispered, lifting your hand in his, keeping his response short with something that he knew was sure.
You squeezed against his digits, threading your fingers through his, letting the both of you stay hand in hand on your living room floor.
“Why wasn’t I enough for him?”
He squeezed your hand three times, taking a deep breath in keeping his eyes on yours, “Because he was an idiot not satisfied with the best he had in front of him.”
Steve knew a lot about boys. After all, he once was one of them — stupid, self-centered, ignorant, and most of all ungrateful. He lived life like everything and everyone was replaceable, a kind of numbness that he had garnered since he was a little boy following the footsteps of his dad and just trying to make him proud by being a reflection of him.
Nancy Wheeler changed that for him, his first love, such a lovely experience that changed his life for the better. But it costed him losing her too. He could never step close to Jonathan Byers, the one who was man enough to love Nancy the way she wanted… the way Steve never could.
It stung for a long time. Lots of hope that maybe one day Nancy would love him again, and more hopelessness knowing that she was irrevocably in love with Jonathan and he would have hated for her to only see him in his eyes knowing her heart always belonged to him.
The heartbreak could have made him envious at the world, wanting to lash out like a wounded animal and get revenge on the entire world like some sort of villain, but it did the exact opposite.
He took it in stride even when some days were harder than the rest. There was a community of love around him, and while it wasn’t romantic, it was enough for him to see it through and know that one day when he met the one, he wouldn’t let himself let her pass by.
You released his hand, smoothing the top of his with yours as you put on a small smile taking your head off of his shoulders.
“I’m gonna make us a drink… and thank you for being here for me.” You spoke gratefully, standing up and heading for the kitchen.
He stayed there for a second, watching you closely, trying to figure out if you were running away from talking about it or if you were just over it by now. He crossed his fingers that it was the second option; he wanted you to be over it, to not be so affected and hurt anymore knowing that you were always the better half, the one who didn’t lose anything because you already had everything you needed inside of your heart.
But he also knew it tended to get like this — thoughts so loud, presence so distant, you were a world away while he was there hoping you’d find your way back home soon.
“Fuck him, he’s a piece of shit who never deserved you!”
The nightclub was so chaotic, bright lights, booming music, even louder friends who were trying to get you to feel a little better about the breakup. Nancy and Robin had arranged the night out for you with the best of intentions, seeing as though you had spent every day since the breakup inside the apartment that you used to share with him.
It didn’t help that you broke things off right before he had to go out of town for a work, all of his things still stayed where they were, not enough time for him to find a new place or ask a friend to stay with them for a while. But it wasn’t as bad as it could have been if he was still there physically.
You gulped down the shot, pinching your eyes closed when the liquid went down with a burn before being followed by the sourness of a lime. The girls cheered around you, nudging your shoulders and placing kisses on your head affectionately.
“C’mon! Let’s go dance!” Robin whistled, grabbing your hand and attempting to pull you to the dance floor with her and Nance, but you stayed grounded, just barely glued to the seat.
You flashed her a reassuring smile and waved her off to the dance floor.
“You guys go ahead! I’ll meet you there in a little…I just need some water.” You called out loud enough through the music and they both nodded, shimmying into the disco lights.
Steve tapped his fingers against the tabletop, sipping on his Coke, no alcohol added. He volunteered to be the designated driver for the night and of course, honorary body guard if anyone messed with you guys. You didn’t know if he’d want to spend the night practically babysitting three girls, but you were glad he was there nonetheless.
“You having fun?” Steve leaned over so you could hear him better.
You nodded instantly, though there was a strain in your features. Eyes shining with a glaze over them and your smile felt like it was rehearsed, something you had spent time in the mirror trying to get right so that it was believable past the frown you’d been wearing.
He looked at you unconvinced, reaching under the table to hold your hand in his, “You can tell me the truth, doll.”
“I just…” You looked around, hoping that your friends were looking at you and sure enough they were too busy dancing to the beat of the music having fun like you were supposed to be doing right then. But you definitely didn’t want to dump it on them, seeing as though they did this for you and didn’t mean any harm.
“I, I hate that everybody expects me to bounce back, just like that.” You snapped your fingers with a clack, “I want to forget about it and move on, I really do, but I just can’t do it overnight you know?”
He nodded understandingly, thumbing over your knuckles, “I know what you mean, but it only hurts this much right now because it’s raw and fresh… one day you’re gonna wake up and it won’t hurt as much.”
“I wish that day would come sooner.”
“It will,” He reassured you, squeezing your hand three times, “But what about tonight you just pretend?”
“Pretend?” You looked at him uncertainly.
“Pretend like you’re over it, or just pretend like he never even existed? Go out there and have fun and pretend like you forgot about him, just for tonight.” He told you, gesturing over to the dance floor of people who were probably doing the same.
“You think that’ll work?” You rose your brows, and he snickered, shrugging lightly.
“Won’t know if you don’t try,” Steve whistled.
“Come with me?” You tilted your head before taking the last shot on the platter.
You let it burn, not bothering with a chaser until he pushed his Coke towards you, coaxing you to take at least a sip before nodding his head with a sly smile.
“I’m following your lead, babe.”
Steve was sober, yet with his hands intertwined in yours he felt drunk on love. Laughing so hard, his cheeks hurt as he moved with you, nonstop jumping, screaming, and dancing to the music that resounded through the speakers. Even in the neon lights of the club, nothing shined as bright as you. He would do anything you wanted in order to see you this happy, even if it meant breaking his back to make you break a smile.
He stayed on that dance floor until you were tired and needed to catch a breath. His hand stayed in yours as he drove Nancy and Robin home. He stayed and held your hair back when you threw up in the toilet. And he stayed with you in his arms on your living room couch as you cried at the haunting memories until you fell asleep.
It felt like no one could put you back together, not even yourself, but Steve was the one holding onto you during those times, and he always stayed — even now.
He tossed out the trash bags into the dumpster, placing the donated ones in the trunk of his car to deal with tomorrow. Two vintage VHS tapes sat in the corner of the trunk, something he thought maybe you both could enjoy for the rest of the day.
“I found these.” He wiggled them in the air, locking the front door shut. “I was supposed to return them yesterday, but I’ll just do it when I get back to work on Monday.”
You strided over, swapping the tapes for his drink: Coke with a splash of triple sec. Inspecting the tapes, you moped, looking up at him.
“These are both rom-coms.” You grumbled, taking them towards the living room nonetheless, him following behind you.
Steve muttered out an ‘sorry’ before falling back onto the couch.
“They’re El’s. She gave them to me to return because she didn’t want to bike all the way there. But we don’t have to watch any of them. We can just sit and talk if you want?”
You snorted, setting them down near the player just in case you both decided to watch them later. “About how pathetic I am for still letting him get to me?”
“You’re not pathetic.” He sat the glass down on the coffee table, patting the cushion beside him.
“I feel like I should be over it by now.” You retorted, tossing yourself beside him, slumping into the cushions.
“It’s not that easy especially when you were in love with him.” Steve pointed out, trying to sway you to give yourself more grace.
“I want to believe that he loved me as much as I did him, but I think that would mean I’d be lying to myself.” You admitted, shaking your head at yourself and looking down at your lap while you twiddled with your fingers.
“You don’t think he loved you?” He sought, bringing his hand towards your knee, rubbing comforting circles around it.
You shook your head, scoffing towards yourself, “I don’t even think I know what it feels like to be loved by a man in that sense. I don’t think he saw me or felt that way for me.”
“Why do you think that?”
You shrugged, thinking back to the contents of the letter, the swooping words that had been engrained into your mind like a cursed image you would forever be stuck seeing every time you closed your eyes.
“Because he never showed it, really. That letter… she said that he’d bring her flowers to the office, leave her favorite coffee on her desk with a little note, bring her an extra sandwich when she forgot her lunch…”
You rolled your eyes weakly, cursing in your mind knowing you were the one who made those sandwiches every night and packed them up for him to take, only to give it to the girl he was cheating on you with.
“It’s those little things that I never got. Those small details of the effort he never gave to me.” You pinched your fingers together, half hating that you were revisiting these feelings again and more so loathing that you were dumping it all on Steve.
He gave you a comforting look, nodding for you to go on knowing you had so much to say, and he’d stay here all night until you got it all out of your system. You bit on your lip, shaking your head as you tried to gathering what you’d been feeling.
“The worst part is, I—I feel like I gave him all the best parts of me, and I don’t think I’ll ever love like that again.” You sounded disappointed in yourself, like you had given up on your fairytale happy ending that you always wanted.
Steve’s face twisted, eyebrows pulled together, and a heavy frown playing on his lips.
“Don’t say that.” He scolded tenderly, hating that you amounted yourself to that.
“It’s true,” You laughed so sure of yourself, “I don’t think I have it in me to expect someone to love me the way I really want them to.” You threw your hands into your lap, turning to look out the window.
Steve couldn’t let you live with that thought in your head any longer. He didn’t know when you starting believing that, but he’d be damned if he let you think that your happiness was over just because one guy did you bad. If he could and if you would let him, you would realize that happily ever after was right in front of you the whole time.
Breathe in, breathe through, breathe deep, breathe out.
“What if that someone already does?” Steve clutched your hands, pulling himself closer to you, knees knocking into each other.
Your eyes snapped back to his, staring at him puzzled by the sudden sanguine of his voice, “What?”
He squeezed your hand three times, taking a deep breath as he spoke it out loud once again — this time a little clearer in his phrasing, needing to get this right.
“What if there’s someone out there who doesn’t need to be taught how to love you because they already do?”
His voice was sure of himself, accompanied by a bit of nervousness that only you could decipher as him trying not to get tongue tied.
“What are you saying?” You looked between his eyes, searching for an answer yet only seeing a reflection of yourself clouding his irises.
“That I’m in love with you.” He blurted out without a moment's hesitation.
You stared at him motionless, not knowing if he meant it in the way you thought he did. For all you knew, he could have been referring to the friendship aspect of your relationship. You wanted to be in denial once more, knowing this couldn’t be what you thought it was.
“Steve…” you whispered, hand going slack against his, clearly taken aback.
He didn’t let you let him go, covering your intertwined hands with his free one. Your pulse was practically beating in his palms, the blood rushing through your body in a surge and your heart beating with a rapid thumpthumpthump. You could feel his hands shaking, his chest rising quicker with each second that passed with him trying to gather his words.
“I’m not just saying this. I mean it with everything inside of me.” He promised you, letting his hand release yours only to grip your wrist and bring them to his beating heart.
Despite it all — the nerves and everything that should have shut his body down — his heart stayed steady, beating in sync with yours. He gulped thickly, dropping your hands back to your lap as he stood and paced the small space between your coffee table and the couch.
“I—I’ve been in love with since I could remember you walking into Family Video and running into me and helping me pickup the tapes while you apologized profusely. I’ve known that I have loved you since forever, but I…I just couldn’t bring myself to tell you because I was terrified that you wouldn’t feel the same way.”
He halted in front of you, catching his breath hoping you were able to at least understand some of the contents of his ramble, not getting lost in it.
Your shoulders rose with a deep breath you took in. “Why didn’t just—”
“I tried! And I was going to!” He exclaimed swiftly, raking a hand through his hair and tugging in frustration towards himself, because he felt as if he could have prevented this — you getting hurt.
He slowly took his seat next to you, elbows resting on his knees as he focused his sights forward not knowing if he could bear to look into your eyes as he spilled the rest of what he had been keeping inside for so long.
“But after your first date with that idiot I wanted you to tell me that there was something wrong…that you didn’t like him at all. I was gonna swoop in and say that maybe I could make it up to you and finally take you out on a date, but I didn’t because turned out you actually liked him.”
Your heart stopped, chest rising and falling so slowly you thought you could faint. But how could you when Steve was still there confessing his undying love for you?
“I didn’t want to get in between the two of you because it wouldn’t be fair, no matter how much I feel inside for you. I didn’t want to rob you of what could’ve been between you and him.” He swallowed, hanging his head low.
You wished he had stolen your heart and never let it be tainted with the hands of someone who was only going to drop it and hurt you. You wished that he didn’t wait and had been so considerate to the other party, when in reality he was holding back because of you… because he wanted you to be happy even if it wasn’t with him.
“Y-you don’t understand how hard it’s been for me to watch you be treated like a second option, while I stand there and in my head you’ve always first. I…I don’t know why I waited so long to tell you. I’m sorry.” He said hoarsely, head lifting to glance at you where you faced him still reeling from it all.
“Don’t apologize, Steve.” You sighed, shaking your head and placing a soothing hand on his shoulder.
He wiggled under your palm, grunting to himself, “No I have to, because god, maybe I could’ve saved you from that piece of shit and what he did. If I would’ve just spoken up and told you that I’m in love with you sooner, things could have been different.”
Maybe he was right, that if he would have said something after that date, things wouldn’t have gotten this far. But perhaps it was fated, the way that it hurt so much at the time and how he thought he would have to spend his whole life getting over you knowing it was going to be impossible.
Break up, break free, break through, break down.
“Things can be different now.” You murmured, jaw trembling at the notion you just let out.
He sat up calmly, beaming into your eyes. “It can?”
You nodded assuringly, taking his hand, intertwining it with yours and giving it three squeezes knowing this was going to be a long road, but you were willing to take it with him.
“You know my number by heart. You come and water my plants when I’m staying late at work, and if I’m lucky, which most times I am, you leave me dinner in the fridge.” You told him, watching as a small smile spread across his face.
Steve did things that friends didn’t always usually do. He was the one who came over and changed your locks for you to save you the stress of not knowing when your ex would show up eventually and let himself in. He was the one who spent hours watching videos on how to do it himself, going back and forth from the hardware store to get everything he needed. He didn’t even let you help, shooing you off to lie in bed and get the rest you had been missing, all the while he made sure you were going to be okay.
He knew it wasn’t going to stop him from eventually coming back, but it was enough to at least give you a warning, something that you deserved after all of it.
“You know when I’m lying and instead of trying to pry me out of it you get me to talk about how I’m feeling.”
Steve was never accusatory when it came to you. He never wanted to shine the light on something you were trying to keep hidden in order to stop him from worrying about you — he knew you had the best of intentions. But he knew he should’ve been the least of your worries. He would stare at the ceiling with you, not saying too much or reading too deep into things, as he just wanted to help you let it all out — melancholy and all.
You took a deep breath, bringing your joined hands into your lap, shaking it mildly, “Y-you care about me so much so that you pick up every call before the second ring, and you…” pausing, you smiled up at him in awe, giving into the feelings and setting yourself free.
“You love me so much that you almost thought you lost the love of your life.”
Sitting eyes wide opened, Steve only had one thing stuck in his mind — you were the love of his life, the bullet that you never were, the thing that he didn’t dodge and even if you were, he’d let you pierce through his heart knowing at least it was you that got him at the end.
“W-what?” He buzzed, swinging his head, hoping he wasn’t reading you wrong.
“I’m falling in love with you, Steve.” You professed, eyes filled with sincerity and longing.
You pursed your lips, shaking your head at yourself, going on with your words.
“I don’t know why I didn’t realize it sooner, but I feel like I’ve loved you my whole life, and when I met him… a piece of me died because I wasn’t with who I was supposed to be with. Like I wasted all my love on him when you were right in front of me all along.”
It made perfect sense that every time you tried to search for something in his eyes you only saw yourself, not just in the reflection sense, but deeper than that. Past the irises and clouds of hazel, you could tell he was always looking at you, even in a room of faces that in his eyes were blurred into nothing when you were before him.
And like you, when Steve looked in your eyes he saw himself. The way that you would always find him in a crowd before anyone else. He was the first sight you wanted in your views and the last, if anything were to happen to you. Every time you met his, it felt like coming home, a sort of familiarity that even your apartment couldn’t sum up.
Steve shook his head at you, bringing his free hand up to your cheek.
“You didn’t waste all of it… I know you’ve got some left in you.”
You laughed lightly, leaning into his touch as you hummed. “For you, I do.”
“You can love again, let me show you that you can,” He promised, his voice never breaking, a vow that he was ready to make and destined to keep.
Like clockwork, his hands squeezed your three times, and you nodded, knowing he was with you on that road and he wasn’t going to leave you stranded. You could trust him… you always could.
His forefingers held your chin, your eyes fluttering shut, feeling his breath fan against your face.
Oh no, I’m falling in love again.
Your faces slotted into each other, leaning in closer and closer until you felt his lips on yours. Plush skin, brushing against your lips, moving gently together and there you were afraid that it wasn’t going to last… that this was too good to be true.
Oh no, I’m falling in love again
You felt the rise of the elevator, the takeoff on the runaway, the anticipation that settled in before you let it take you wherever it wanted. His hands cupped your cheeks, yours wrapping around his neck, the two of you not daring to leave each other just yet.
Oh, I’m falling in love
Your hearts were beating out of your chest’s, the thumps resounding in the air through your eardrums, letting it be the only thing you could hear. There was no crashing, no turbulence coming through to you — no need to brace yourself for an impact that wasn’t coming.
“I love you,” you whispered breathlessly against him, foreheads pressed together as you both opened your eyes and stared into each other.
“I knew you could.” He beamed, pulling you back to him as you giggled into another kiss that would be many of a lifetime.
You thought the plane was going down, but somehow Steve turned it right around — this time the love would last… just like that.
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a/n: this somehow turned into a 6k fic when it was supposed to be a small little blurb...oopsies!!! anyways, i hope you guys like this one -- i feel myself slowly coming out of my writers slump and it's been really nice and refreshing to get to write again without the pressure on my shoulders. labyrinth is also becoming one of my favorites off midnights, i just adore it so much and while it's not so lyric heavy, the production ties it all together. let me know what you guys think and isn't stevie a cutie patootie??!
taglist: @translatemunson @kennedy-brooke @manda-panda-monium @tvserie-s-world @givemeth @steveharringtonswife @the-alchemys @loving-and-dreaming @awkotaco24 @engenelxver @elfiaaaa @pbs-theundeadmaggot @johnricharddeacy @gaysludge @keerysfolklore @micheledawn1975 @ihatepeanutss @bakugouswh0r3
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xxblairexxss · 1 year
Text
I’ll be back before 10
Pairing : Charles Leclerc x reader
Theme : Angst
In which Pierre forced Charles to go out on a date behind your back but he didn’t want to betray your love.
I’m so sorryyy this was so sad I cried a few times while writing it but I’m not sure if it’s worthy of your tears because I’m an emotional human being I cry at everything. Not proofread!
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“How many times do I have to tell you, the answer is no.”
Pierre groaned and leaned his head back against the coach. “There’s nothing wrong with it, dude! Come on! Live your life a little.”
“I can’t, Pierre. I can’t betray her.” Charles threw his body on the couch and turned on his phone to look at your picture that he had made as his wallpaper for the longest time ever. The picture was a candid picture of you looking cozy in his oversized hoodie and a packet of gummy, your favourite kind of gummy in your hand.
﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎
“Baby, smile!” The flash went off before you could even catch what he was saying. “Perfect. I’m gonna make this as my wallpaper.”
“No! I bet I look ugly. Should have told me you were taking a picture so I can give you my model face.”
“Model face? Since when is my girlfriend a model? Hm?” Charles cackled. He took a bite from the gummy on your hand and poked you on your waist. He loved tickling you, the sound of your giggle will always be his favourite. He should have recorded it so he won’t forget what it sounded like.
“Stop making me laugh!” You tried to make a run but he had locked you in his arms and continued tickling you.
﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎
“You are not betraying her.”
“Don’t. Please don’t talk as if you knew what she would say.” This is the sixth times Pierre had come to ask him to agree on a date though Charles had already declined the offer the first time he asked.
“There’s nothing wrong with it!”
“Everything is wrong with it, Pierre! Which part of I can’t betray her did you not get? I can’t betray Y/N.”
Pierre exhaled deeply. He had tried so hard to bring his friend to branch out and meet new people but every time he asked, he would get rejected. Now that he mentioned a girl name, Charles became more defensive. He didn’t even suggested it to be a date, it was just a proper hang out, got to know each other’s hobbies, favourite foods, favourite colors but Charles hated every idea if it involved a girl because of the same reason, he can’t betray you.
“No one’s forcing you to date her. It wasn’t even a date! I was just asking you to go out, hang out, and come home. No hands or whatsoever.”
Charles shook his head in annoyance. “You’ll never get it.”
“Fine, I’ll be there. I’ll bring Kika. I’ll ask Kika to bring any other friends she has. We’ll make it a school trip even.” Pierre saw the was Charles stop scrolling on his phone and he grinned because he knew his words had gotten his friend’s attention. Sure, Charles wouldn’t change his decision right away but at least this gave him a little hope. “I’ll pick you up tomorrow. No excuse this time.”
﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎
“Faster, faster! We need to go home before 10!” You pulled on his hand eagerly while the event was still ongoing.
“I know, baby. Let me tell Pierre I’ll take my leave first.” He intertwined your hand with his and made his way to his best friend that was too engrossed in a conversation.
“Y/N and I will get going first.”
“You guys always take a leave before 10. What’s with the curfew? Couldn’t wait to have your own private show on the bed?”
“Something like that.” Charles replied to which your cheeks went red as you slapped him on his arm.
Pierre cackled at the couple then went on to hug you and kissed on your cheek. “Goodbye, then. I’ll see you soon, yeah? Tell Charles not to go too rough.”
“Very funny, Pierre. Bye! I’ll see you soon. Let’s go, honey!” You turned around and took the lead as you guys left the event.
“I don’t know why you always want to watch the movie from the television channel programme when we have everything ready to watch on our Disney and Netflix account.” Charles had laid down on the cozy couch after he changed from a formal suit to a cozy outfit and opened his arms to welcome you in his embrace as he saw you walked to the living room with his hoodie.
“I know but it felt like a surprise, no? Every weekend they would play a random movie with a random genre. It was mystery the last two weeks. Last week was horror. There’s no surprise element if we choose our own movie.” You made yourself comfortable on his chest and pecked on his stubble.
“Whatever you said, baby. Pierre really thought we needed to come home early for a spicy stuff when my girlfriend right here is just a huge fan of movies.” Charles laughed remembering the way his best friend looked at him suspiciously when he was leaving the event earlier.
“I know! You should have denied him. Oh, I place my bet on comedy tonight!” You laughed along.
“Nah, I think it’s gonna be horror again!”
“That’s impossible! They won’t play horror twice in a row!”
﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎
Charles felt so bad. So, so bad. There was a tiny spot in his heart that felt some sort of excitement for what was gonna happen in 10 minutes once Pierre picked him up. He couldn’t believe he would be excited doing things behind your back but Pierre basically forced him, telling him that this was gonna worth it. Plus, it was just a casual hang out. No touching, no kissing. Just making new friends.
Charles fixed his hair in front of the mirror and received a text from Pierre saying he’s arriving in 2 minutes. He took out his phone and turned it on to see his wallpaper, a picture of you, his favourite picture of you and found himself smiling fondly at it. He stroked his thumb on the screen, feeling himself growing enamoured at your bright smile in the picture.
“I hope you don’t mind, Y/N. Pierre said you wouldn’t mind seeing me making new friends. I’ll be back by 10, I promise. I wonder what genre are they choosing for today. Last week it was comedy. What do you reckon? I place my bet on comedy again.” He tilted his head up and forced himself to look at the ceiling to stop his tears from spilling off his eyes. “You will always be my girl, Y/N. Always. Wait for me, okay?”
“Dude, you ready?” Pierre walked in and set his hand on Charles’s shoulder to give it a squeeze.
“Yeah, I am. But Pierre, I can’t be late—”
“I know, Charles. I’ll send you home before 10.” Pierre would make sure the hang out will end before the curfew. Having successfully forced his friend to go out on weekend was enough, he couldn’t force him to do anything more than that. He knew it will be a slow step but he will be with Charles within every step he took because he knew you would want to see him happy and learn how to live without you. Even when you were no longer by his side.
Once they stepped out of the apartment, Pierre looked up to the orangy hue in the sky. He knew you were looking out for him, you would always look out for him from above. Charles had told him the sky had always looked beautiful after you passed away. It was as if heaven gained another angel, his angel, along with a piece of his heart and kept it up in the sky for him to keep on reminding himself that you were still here with him, far, distant, but still with him.
“I’m sure you don’t mind me taking Charles away this weekend. You would have wanted this for him too, wouldn’t you? I promise your man is safe with me, Y/N but please, keep on watching him from up there. It gives him the comfort and peace that no one else could give, not even me.”
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clanwarrior-tumbly · 1 year
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HCs: Ken meeting a Human!Fem!Reader who owns a ranch
Wanted to write something for this movie bc it’s all I’ve been thinking about for the past two days. So enjoy, lovelies! 
I’m taking requests for this movie so don’t be shy <3 
[SPOILERS AHEAD]
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...........
After going back to the Real World to find a purpose for himself, Ken runs into you, a country girl who left the Mattel company to take care of your ranch.
You just stopped in the city to find new outfits..and instead found him rollerblading through the park, immediately recognizing him as a Ken.
You may not be in the company anymore but you just knew (especially with his vibrant outfit giving it away).
You two hit it off right away and eventually you go shopping together.
He gets a new cowboy outfit and is bashful when you pay for it (to which you reply that you..really didn’t have a choice in the matter, as he had no money).
He’s like “ohh that happened before when I was with Barbie..we got arrested for the second time that day :D”
You’re very concerned and decide that he should stick with you from now on (not that anyone at Mattel would ever care about a Ken running around to begin with...you just didn’t wanna have to bail him out of jail).
On the truck ride back to your home, you mentioned owning a ranch and Ken’s in a w e
You tell him more about it, and he’s so intrigued and can’t stop staring at you the entire time, especially as you go on about how a lot of women in your world are cowgirls and how they aren’t represented enough.
He bluntly states that he once believed “patriarchy” was all about the horses and you nearly laughed, but he seemed sad about it, so you assure him if he wanted to see horses, he made the right decision coming with you.
You introduce him to one of your favorite steeds and he’s SO overjoyed to actually see one in person. Like petting its mane and asking dozens of questions like an excited kid.
“Are you sure Barbieland didn’t have any horses of their own?”
“No, we just have the ones on sticks and our imaginations.” He pouts, mimicking the way he rode invisible horses with his hands. “But this? This is WAY cooler!!”
He tries mounting your horse, envisioning himself riding off into the sunset, free as a bird while shouting “yeehaw” at the top of his lungs-
Only for it to rear its head up and nearly stomp on his foot, with you having to calm it down as he snaps back to reality, looking utterly distraught and stressed over upsetting it.
“Alrighty. Ken. If you wanna ride a horse..the first step is earning its respect. Thought you would’ve learned about that in those books....but if you’ll let me, I’ll show you how to properly mount one. Luckily this one here’s accustomed to double riders.”
His face lights up and he listens to every instruction you give him, from placing the saddle on its back to climbing on, and finally how to control the direction he wants it to go.
For this one time, however, you take the reins and let him sit behind you, hugging you a bit too tightly for your liking, but you allow it as you show him around the rest of your ranch.
He just likes the closeness fr and you.
By the time the day’s over, your horse got better acquainted with Ken and let him ride around for a little while before you gotta put it in the stable for the night.
Before he could worry about where he was gonna go, you tell him he can stay with you as long as he wants.
He’s so happy he just,,,,breaks down ugly crying into your arms.
Though he quickly apologizes, admitting he’s still getting used to crying freely and being more emotional and-
“It’s okay, Ken.” You reassure him. “We need more guys like that around here who ain’t afraid to shed a tear or two.”
“Th-Thanks...Barbie told me it’s an amazing feeling. And honestly..it kinda is.”
After that small heart-to-heart talk, he gifts you his horseshoe necklace as a sign of his appreciation, that dopey grin returning to his face when you take it and wear it right away.
Yeah, you’ve only met each other for a day and he’s smitten the moment you started treated him as an equal. You let him have his own room, bed, wardrobe, etc. (and in time he'll have his own horse too).
All you ask is that he helps you manage the ranch, but at this point he’s willing to do anything for you now.
Finally, he realizes this was his dream all along.
One that Barbieland couldn't provide, but that was alright.
Patriarchy is overrated, anyways. This was all he wanted.
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jungkookstatts · 2 years
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University Superstar
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[Summary]: Jeon Jungkook is your University’s biggest rock-star-athlete-hot guy. It literally prides itself on his attendance at the school — walking around with his “big name” (captain of the lacrosse team), tattoos, and rude, jock-like personality. You hate him. You hate that he can’t apologize for being a complete asshole. But what you don’t hate is how he visits your office every day. You also don’t hate that your feelings for him are crawling back into your system…
[Theme]: Jock!Jk, LacrossePlayer!JK x TeacherIntern!Y/N, Friends(?)ToLovers!AU, EnimeisToLovers!AU
[Rating]: 18+, explicit content, lots of hickies, mentions of blowjob, consistent flirting, JK is an extreme asshole (he actually got on my nerves for some of it lol), insensitive JK, lots of passion, squirting, kissing, pining after one another (mainly JK)
[Word Count]: 10,291
[Author’s Note]: I didn’t plan on making Y/n an education major…? But then I was thinking of JK in a bomber jacket and jock x teacher!AU and…yeah no, it had to happen.
[Masterlist] [Sequel] [Drabble (1), (2), (3)]  
Jeon Jungkook.
The name makes you hurl a little in your mouth. Yesterday’s lunch makes its way to the back of your throat. But you swallow it down, telling yourself to be strong and that he will go away soon.
“So,” he banters a smile at you. That stupid yellow and blue lacrosse bomber jacket puffs out around his shoulders, the number “07” poking out in the ugliest school-sprit font you’ve ever seen on his sleeves. His elbows rest on your desk, arms delicately pushing some of your papers and trinkets out of his way. The action only fuels your anger.
“7 o’clock. You and me. Chipotle.”
“In your dreams, fuckboy,” you scoff. The audacity he has to ask you out. The audacity he has to find the school you intern at (literally on your universities campus, but still), interrupt your work, and ask you on a date for the nth time since a few weeks ago.
You think this might be the 5th time this week he’s asked you out on a date. And it’s only Wednesday.
The amount of explaining you still have to do to your coworkers, and even your kindergartner students, is exhausting. Everyone knows who he is. He’s the captain of your Universities lacrosse team, probably the most popular guy on campus…one of “the hottest” guys in the school (according to your coworker and best friend, Aecha)
You remember asking her a while back why he was always “the talk of the town”, and all she could say was: “Well, look at him. How could he not be?”
You get it. He is hot. But that doesn’t stop you from absolutely hating his guts. Not after he spilled his hot, black coffee all over your white shirt and pants a few weeks ago. Not after he stained all of your precious student’s artwork with his scorching hot Americano.
You were on your way to the school to hang them up in your classroom. Stopping at your University library’s coffee shop, you decided to start your day with a little bit of matcha before you decorated your space.
Your students had just completed a “What I Love About Me” project, and their responses literally made you cry…maybe made you ugly cry. So innocent and honest in their responses, this project was probably the most precious to your heart. You had wished you did something like this back when you were so young. Maybe then you would have a reminder on your bad days what younger you always admired before nasty comments and puberty hit your system.
So, when Jeon Jungkook completely drenched them in his black coffee, your stained (and very expensive) white work shirt and pants didn’t even matter. The sopping-wet look of your student’s artwork made you fight to gulp back tears. But you couldn’t help the water that begged to break free from behind your eyelids.
“Oohh!” he laughs, the stupid jock in him making a scene. “Jeez! I’m sorry.” you can feel the antagonizing smirk on his lips as he looks at what he’s done to you. “Here, let me get a napkin,”
Jungkook exits your line of vision and you try to make your way out of the library before he comes back. But, ever the athlete he is, Jungkook is back before you can blink with a giant wad of the coffee shop’s crappy brown napkins.
You don’t even know who is talking to you until you take the napkins from his hands, recognizing those ugly, stupid, hot hand tattoos. Who couldn’t recognize them when the whole university makes Jungkook’s tattoos each and every one of its personality traits?
The realization of your perpetrator being Jeon Jungkook only makes you more upset. Had it been anyone else, the hurt in your heart from your damaged projects might have been less painful.
You immediately start wiping off your student’s projects, placing them on the nearest table and patting them dry, trying your best not to smear the Crayola marker on some of them.
“Woah, hey,” he chuckles to himself again. “Nice line work. Didchya draw those?”
“Please, stop talking.” you spit at him. Finally, you look up at his face, hoping he gets the point.
You think he does, because the minute he catches your gaze, his face freezes. The look adorning your features was angry, but that tear in your eye from what he did to your papers made you really upset. Which, for some reason, made Jungkook's heart clench. Hoping he can’t see the tears trying to break free from your eyelids, you look back down and continue your previous actions.
“I-I, um,” he stutters, his voice much meeker than what it antagonized you with just moments ago. “Look, is there anything I can do? A free drink? New clothes? A personal invitation to Min Yoongi’s New Year’s Party? An escort around the men’s lacrosse team's locker room? …During uniform change?”
“Thanks, but the best thing you can do is leave,” you reply. Just about done drying your projects up the best you can, you gather them in your arms and face the man once again. This time, you stare at his face for more than just a few seconds. You hate that he’s handsome; it only makes it harder to stop looking at the playful smirk forming on his lips from mentioning the men’s locker rooms.
“You sure? Heard this year’s party is supposed to be a banger.” he bribes, the mole under his bottom lip showing as he smiles.
“Min Yoongi is a close friend. I am invited to his parties every year. Now, I have to go—”
“No way?!” he exclaims, the permed dark curls over his eyes bouncing as he places a large hand on your shoulder. You shrug it off, but he acts like he did nothing wrong at all. “How come I haven’t seen you before? I’d totally recognize you. You’re smokin', by the way.”
Your lips and nose cringe at his statement.
“I don’t usually go,” you explain. “Now, please move before I push you out of my way myself.”
“Hah!” he laughs. “Like you could. Hey, are you an elementary teacher or just a shitty artist?”
“I’m not answering that,” you say.
His comment hurts you. This is precious art to you. The fact that he has no regard—didn’t even say sorry meaningfully—for your papers that you are obviously upset about makes your heart sink. All you can see are the faces of your students.
“Okay, well, that offer for a free drink, or clothes, or uh—oh yeah. The men’s locker room deal,” he winks. “Is still on the table.”
“I’ll pass,” you flash a tight-lipped smile his way before brushing a shoulder past him and exiting the library.
The first tear makes its way down your cheek, and you quickly wipe it off before anyone has the chance to see it. You think Jungkook might have through the window of the shop, but you assume he is looking at his order number he placed for a new coffee on the screen above it. It would appear more fitting. He clearly has no care in the world that he did something that made someone else upset. From his own actions. But are you really surprised that he wouldn’t care?
The rest of your walk to the elementary school is filled with blasting music in your headphones and a scowl on your face. What was once sadness is now anger. You’re angry. So fucking angry. Your blood is boiling.
“How could he?” you exclaim as you barge into the teacher’s lounge.
“Woah—” Aecha observes. “Is this a new print or something?” she asks, referring to your white-brown shirt and pants. “Please don’t tell me this is a new ‘thing’? No offense, but it’s kind of ug—”
“No, it’s that stupid Jungkook-jock-fuckboy-asshole-bitch—”
You silently thank an existing god that the kids have off today.
“Jeon Jungkook?” Aecha’s jaw drops.
“Don’t even start. I hate that man. Look what he did,” you seethe, slapping your student’s projects on the table.
“Awww,” Aecha’s eyes go beady, her fingers delicately shifting through the precious artwork. “Did he ruin them?”
“Yes,” you fight the urge to swipe all the shit on the coffee bar onto the floor. “Yes, he did. And now I have to give these back to the kids, hoping that when they’re 15 years older they can actually make out what it's saying.”
“I’m sorry,” she pouts. “That’s really shitty. Did he apologize?” she asks, sorting through the damp papers. “They don’t look too distraught. I can still read them,” she assures you.
“He apologized as the third phrase he said to me. The first was an ‘Oohh!’ accompanied by a mocking laugh and then a ‘jeez!’ Didn’t even realize I didn’t care about my damn shirt until he pointed out how ‘shitty my artwork was’.”
“Wow,” she gapes. “That’s totally Jungkook, that’s for sure,” she nods in agreement, thinking upwards. “You know, now that I’m imagining the scenario, it’s kinda hot.”
“Aecha!”
“Okay listen,”
“No, I won’t.”
“Okay, fine,” she gives up. You dig underneath the coffee cabinet, pulling out a spare hairdryer and plugging it into the wall. Your school is filled with mostly women teachers, so finding something like this in a coffee room is not that unordinary here. The room is soon loud with the sound of the machine as your try to dry them completely. “You going to Yoongi’s party, by the way?” she asks you.
You remember Jungkook’s offer to invite you to said party. You scoff at the memory. What was once a plan to tell Yoongi that you were, in fact, going to attend...is now a “no” from you. Not when you know Jungkook will be there. He is always there, just too drunk to remember you, probably. He even danced with you a few times, grinding on your ass with a beer in his hand and his other on your waist.
You remember it all too well. That was back when you had positive thoughts about the man. But then he became the captain of the lacrosse team. And then he became obsessed with the amount of “get out of jail free” cards he suddenly obtained from his popularity, hotness, and good standing on the school board. When you heard about what he was like from Aecha, your friends, the school news, YouTube, etc., you stopped finding him fancy. You couldn’t see the same man you saw that night. Especially not with how he treated you just an hour ago. Sad, but you washed away any hint of a crush you might've had on him after then.
“No, not anymore,” you reply, loudly speaking over the blow dryer. It is loud enough to where you don’t need to yell, but you wouldn’t be able to hear her response if you both talked normally.
“What?!” she drops her shoulders in disappointment. “But Hoseok is going to be there…you told me you’d go with me if he was!”
You know Aecha has been chasing after Hoseok since she first talked with him at last year's party. She doesn’t know anyone else who is going besides Yoongi and Hoseok. Being they’re both men, she doesn’t know if she feels 100% comfortable going alone, even though you and her both know they would never dare to hurt her or make her feel unsafe. It is more of a girl code—arriving and leaving together—than it is anything else. So you understand.
You had forgotten about said agreement, and you groan in frustration. Now, you have no other choice.
“Y/n, I need to bag this man. I need to,” her voice is laced with determination. “I am like—I am tired of waiting and this is my one last chance and—”
“Okay!” you hush her. “Fine, I’ll go.
She claps her hands and does a happy dance. You wish you could find her reaction endearing, but now you’re dreading the upcoming events of this party.
----
The week is going by fine until you get unexpected amounts of bouquets and Edible Arrangements all addressed to you from…Jungkook. You send them all back, just to get an angered Jungkook storming into your office a few days later.
“You know how expensive those were?!” he half-shouts at you. He quiets his voice, noticing the quiet setting he is in. However, he doesn’t seem to care that he has intruded on your space during your work time. He closes the door to your office anyways, trapping you in it with him.
“How did you get this address…and how do you know I work here?” you interrogate, going back to typing on your computer. The things you type are a mix of keyboard slam and words you’re thinking, faking work at its finest because some abnormally hot jock-asshole needs to make it known that his gifts are not to be returned.
“Min Yoongi is a man of many talents,” he responds. Taking a seat in one of the chairs across from your desk, you watch him as he plays with your nameplate on your desk. “Ms. Y/n L/n. Cute.”
You snatch the gold engraved tag out of his hands and place it back on the desk where it was before. “Please don’t touch my thi—”
“So, you are a teacher, then, I suppose?” he interrupts you. You don’t know it, but Jungkook is really trying here. It took a lot and nothing at all for him to walk in here. Truthfully, he has no idea how to apologize to you. A simple, sincere, “sorry” would probably do it. But he even practiced it in the mirror. Literally impossible. It’s like his mouth was forbidden to say the word without gagging at himself.
Apologizing was never his strong suit. Before coming to college, he was a good boy. Sweet and kind, never once a popular kid until he hit puberty and was suddenly his high school’s prom king. That’s when he started doing things he is not that proud of. It became a habit, but the good boy in him has a hard time practicing apologizing. Mainly because... he never really had to do it before becoming a total high school popular kid and a university super-star player.
But he really fucked up this time. And, he was hoping you would just let it go like people always seem to do when he can’t admit things correctly. But after seeing that tear fall down your face after you left the shop, that clench in his heart followed as you walked away. He couldn't stop thinking about how bad he felt all week. Those really meant something to you and he knew it. He just didn’t know how to admit he was being an asshole.
“I am,” you reply. “You here for some lessons?”
“Stop,” he grins. “Teacher—student sex has always been a fantasy of mine.”
“Please,” you scoff at him. The audacity. “As if I’d fulfill that for you.”
“A man can only dream,” he shrugs.
“Yeah, well keep doing that. What do you want, Jungkook?”
“I want to know why you sent back my flowers. And my Edible Arrangement! I was fighting the urge not to just eat it when I picked it out for you.”
Truthfully, you were too. You love Edible Arrangements.
“Because I don’t want your sympathy because you realized you were an asshole,”
“Why not?”
“Because none of that matters to me. I’m not an ex-girlfriend who caught you cheating on me. I’m just a stranger you met last week. I want an apology. An honest apology from you. And that’s it.” you explain.
Jungkook puffs his cheeks out.
“You’re difficult,” he raises his eyebrows. “I like that,” he smirks at you.
“I don’t have time for your flirting, Jungkook,” you roll your eyes at him, focusing back on your screen. “Please go home.”
The next time he comes in is around 3pm the following day. The kids are out of school by then, but all your coworkers are still here. So is Jungkook, apparently. Aecha tells you he’s been talking it up with the principal since he got here.
You groan, hoping he is just here to speak with the principal and not you. It is a farfetched hope, though. You don’t know what business he has with the principal, or anyone else here besides you, for that matter.
It is around 5 when he barges into your office again. You’re packing up your things, dreams crushed when you thought you could exit work without running into the alleged lacrosse star.
“Hey, sexy,” he flirts, eyeing your flowy, loose, figure-hiding, ugly, dark-brown art dress. You roll your eyes again, knowing he’s making fun of you. It was art day, and you had to wear your paint-stained art-apron dress. It’s the only one you don’t care about other than the shirt he ruined just a week ago.
You ignore his comment, zipping your bag and slinging it over your shoulder.
“Reconsidering tutoring?” you mock. Jungkook laughs at you, trying to hide the blush on his cheeks. You’re really cute when you mock him. It kinda gets him going.
“How’s about 9:00pm next Saturday at Min Yoongi’s?” he asks, trying to get you to go to the party again. Little does he know that you’re going. But you don’t want to amuse him too much.
“Funny,” you banter, making your way to the door. But he blocks your path, his arms resting against the door frame as he stares down at you with those white teeth and bunny eyes. You want to squish his cheek between your forefinger and thumb for reasons you don’t understand. All he has done is make fun of, flirt, and annoy you since you two met. Why do you feel the heat in your cheeks when he slips a finger underneath your chin, dark eyes staring into your soul? Why does your heartbeat in your throat when you look at the glossiness of his lips so close to your own?
You back away, releasing yourself from his flirtatious actions.
“What if I begged on my knees?” he blurts out.
You snort out in laughter at that. The thought of Jungkook: the tall, big guy with tattoos and an award-winning lacrosse scholarship? On his knees in front of you? Begging you to go to some party? That’s rich.
Jungkook blushes harder at your laughs. Fuck, your laugh is so cute. He wants to make you laugh like this a lot. Maybe forever, even. You’re music to his ears.
“What’s so funny?” he chuckles with you. “Think I can’t?”
“Please,” you smile wide, a hand covering your mouth, trying not to muster up any more laughs. “That would be too much. You sure you want to pleasure me?”
Jungkook’s mouth grows dry. Um…yes?? He would, in fact, like to pleasure you. Maybe not in that way, but he’d do it if it meant you were pleased with him. Fuck! If only he could admit things properly.
“Um, no, never mind” he goes against his wish. “I don’t think I could stand the content look on your face.” He totally could??? What the hell is he saying?!?
Jungkook runs a hand through his thick, brown locks, looking at you as you die down your laughter. If only you knew he’s been after you since two New Year’s parties ago. You think he doesn’t remember, but he totally does. The way your hips swayed against his, pressing your ass into his front. He remembers how soft your skin felt underneath his tattooed hand. All he remembered is how he wanted to mark you up, kiss the skin of your lips, neck, and shoulders and claim it as his own. But he had one too many drinks that night, and he found himself passed out on Min Yoongi’s couch the next morning. Jungkook started off the New Year with his clothes on, cheeks flushed, a terrible hangover, and no sight of you anywhere.
He had been trying to find you for a while on campus, but little did he know you were all the way on the opposite side of it in the Education sector. When you didn’t show up to Yoongi’s New Year’s Party the following year, he realized he may never see you again. Until he ruined your clothes. And your valuables. And your heart. And god-knows-what else. If only apologizing didn’t completely break his fragile ego, maybe he would be kissing you right now. Maybe he could have been spending all his time kissing you and holding you every day since the incident.
“Whatever you say, fuckboy,” you smile at him. “Now let me go — and stop coming into my office. It’s annoying.”
“Principle Green is actually so rad, though. I might come back just for him,” he comments, moving out of your way.
“I don’t care who is rad, I don’t want you interrupting my work.”
“Oh, so I’m a distraction?”
“No, you’re a nuisance,”
“Ouch,”
“Goodbye, Jungkook,” you flash him a grin, turning off the lights in your office. You look at Aecha in the teacher's lounge where you exit. She is completely baffled, eyes wide, her mouth dropped, and her bagel falling out of her hands and onto the table. Cream-cheese side down. She heard everything, and you know what she’s thinking.
Luckily, you can leave without either of them making conversation with you.
Entering your car, you let out a huge breath you didn’t know you’d been holding in. You look at yourself in your sun blocker's mirror. Cheeks red and lips cracked from all the laughing, you’re a total mess! As if your crush on Jungkook is coming back. It can’t be. He’s a total asshole now.
But a charming asshole.
Fuck! Stop it, y/n. You can’t do this to yourself.
And so, you don’t. You blast your music and drive away, pretending you don’t see a waving, smiling Jungkook from the school’s entrance in your rearview mirror.
----
Three knocks on your door and an uninvited Jungkook makes his way into your office. Again.
Jeon Jungkook.
The name makes you hurl a little in your mouth. Yesterday’s lunch makes its way to the back of your throat. But you swallow it down, telling yourself to be strong and that he will go away soon.
Last night, after Jungkook’s daily visit to your office (one that ended up with a 3-hour conversation about how Thor is the best Avenger next to Spider-Man), you realized that it’s been almost two weeks since you met him in the coffee shop. Almost two weeks and you have yet to receive a proper apology like you had asked him to give you the first time he visited you at work.
This is the 7th visit since two weeks ago, and still no apology. Despite his charm and how easily you were almost tricked into letting it all go, you remembered you were still supposed to be mad at him. And that you should still be mad at him no matter how many bunny-smiles, flirtatious comments, and talks about the Avengers and Principle Green that shoots straight to your heart. And to other places…
“So,” he banters a smile at you. That stupid yellow and blue lacrosse bomber jacket puffs out around his shoulders, the number “07” poking out in the ugliest school-spirit font you’ve ever seen on his sleeves. His elbows rest on your desk, arms delicately pushing some of your papers and trinkets out of his way. The action only fuels your anger.
“7 o’clock. You and me. Chipotle.”
“In your dreams, fuckboy,” you scoff. The audacity he has to ask you out. The audacity he has to find the school you intern at (literally on your universities campus, but still), interrupt your work, and ask you on a date for the nth time since the start of this week.
You think this might be the 5th time since Sunday he’s asked you out on a date. And it’s only Wednesday.
“Woah, why the ‘tude?” he defends, putting his palms up as he slides back into his “designated” chair in your office.
“There is no ‘tude.”
“There totally is ‘tude!”
You glare at him from over your laptop screen. "See!” he points at your scowl.
“Jungkook, get out please,” you sigh. You really don’t want to deal with his antics today.
“What? Why?” he asks you. His voice is defensive like you just told him his dick is short and thin. Which, it totally is not by the way. He’d tell you about it, but it doesn’t appear like you’re up for that conversation.
“Because, Jungkook, I’m done with this.”
“With what?" he scoffs. "We’re not even a ‘this’,” he says the last part with finger air quotes.
“Exactly, so please stop visiting me. I don’t want your distractions to make me forget about the fact that you still haven’t apologized.”
“Oh, please, y/n,” he drags out a laugh, slouching on your chair. “I don’t even need to apologize. They were just some shitty drawings. I can assure you that if you go back into that classroom and call an ‘art sesh’ they’d make up a bunch of equally as shitty pieces for you.”
You can feel your fingers nearly breaking the screen of your laptop before shutting it close. You stand up in your seat, motioning your finger toward the door. “Get out.”
Jungkook knows he stepped over the line with that one. He really doesn’t know what the hell he’s saying. He knows those meant something to you! Why is he acting like he doesn’t? Why does he choose to say words that hurt you? It only hurts him, knowing that even though he wants so badly to be the person that comforts you and who tells you you’re okay; saying the opposite is only going to make it worse.
Duh!
Right now, he wants to beat himself up so badly that he’s lost the ability to speak another word.
That clenching feeling he has in his chest is back. He can see the anger in your heart, reaching out to protect the innocence of your students. It’s endearing, really. But he’s in the crossfire. And he’s on the side of your wrath he doesn’t want to be on. He’s the reason you’re protecting your students in their absence. He is the reason why you might never forgive him for this one.
“Y/n, I,” he stutters, standing up. He really thinks he’s about to apologize until something within himself blocks him from doing so again. His heart wants to say it, but his egotistical brain isn’t allowing him. “I didn’t mean it like that.”
“Then what did you mean it as?” you ask him. Hands running through your hair, you laugh at yourself in disbelief. “You know, I don’t even know why I’m asking you that. I don’t even know why I expect anything from you at all. All you’ve been doing since you got your damn scholarship and your damn popularity has been treating others like how you are treating me right now. Like their feelings don’t matter, like no one else exists in this world besides Jeon Jungkook. Maybe if you had a project like the one I assigned to my students, then maybe you’d have a reason to look back on what it means to be kind to others. Maybe you’d realize that people get hurt because of people like you. Me included. So please, leave my office and don’t show your face in this school ever again.”
Jungkook is at a loss for words. What can he say? You called his bluff. He taught himself how to block out others as a defense mechanism a long time ago. Its consequence: confidence as a new defense mechanism. Confidence is always good, right? So why it felt wrong when he started showing that side of him 100% more than it was before was beyond him. And, well, this is why it felt so wrong. He's lost the ability to humble himself down. And he hurt you because of it. He’s hurt a lot of people because of it. If only he knew how to balance himself properly.
Jungkook leaves your office, not batting an eye at you, feeling like a student who just got expelled. The jock in him would say it was hot, but that part of him is not there. Nothing but shame fills his body. He feels ashamed of himself. Especially as he catches light of one of the coffee-stained projects on the lounge-room walls.
[I love my _______ because it makes me feel ________] is the prompt. This one had the most outrageous spelling he thinks he’s ever seen. Backward “e”’s and random capitalization and sizing and all. But he makes out “heart’ and “wanted”.
Something in him pulls on his heartstrings again. He can see why those projects meant so much to you. Just that one simple response was enough to feel regret all the way from the follicles of his scalp to his big toe, as if he didn’t regret it already. How is he going to make it up to you? He has no idea. But he can’t lose sight of you, even when he knows he's pissed you off and hurt you. He has to find a way to make it right.
He has to apologize. Sincerely. Like he’s been practicing in the mirror and with his roommates, Taehyung and Jin, for the past two weeks. It’s easier with them. They don’t make his heart beat abnormally fast. They don’t send smiles (other than teasing, antagonizing ones that make him feel embarrassed and give up) that make him want to kiss you until you’re breathless beneath him.
But he needs to. And it needs to happen soon.
----
“So,” you smile at Aecha across your kitchen counter. She’s wearing the skimpiest hot pink dress you have ever seen. No doubt trying to be a tease for Hoseok. No one would guess she’s a preschool teacher with the way she’s dressed. “What’s the plan?”
She turns around, pinning the last bobby pin in her stiff, hair-sprayed-bobby pinned high bun.
“Okay,” she smiles. “We go in, right? Then I see Hoseok. Then we dance. Then we kiss. Then we f—”
“Okay!” you stop her, laughing. “I get it. Go in, dance, fuck. What do I do?”
“Hmmm,” she thinks. “Drink?? Get high? Maybe mock my actions on a certain captain of the lacrosse team…?”
You give her a knowing look.
“I know!” she puts her hands up. “Was just a thought.”
A great thought, at that. You’ve been wanting to jump his bones since three New Year's parties ago. But you’ve long accepted that’s no longer on your agenda. Jungkook has proven to you that he is a lost cause. You can’t expect anything from him, no matter how charming his smile is, no matter how well he dances, or how his touch makes butterflies flow through every vein in your body.
You have to put him in the back of your mind and move on. Maybe tonight you can find someone to do that with.
“You know that guy from Bread Club?” you ask her, fingers pinching the skin between your eyebrows in thought.
“Which one? That club was full of male nerd—oh! The hot one? Park Jimin?” she recalls.
“Yes!” you exclaim. “Him! Do you know if he is coming?”
“Oooooo,” she coos at you. “Does y/n see a potential crush on bread-boy Jimin?”
“Not a crush. Although, he is really handsome.” you blush. “I just never gave him a proper chance.”
“You’re right. I did suspect an underlying mutual attraction. My guess would be that he is going. I’m pretty sure he’s with that whole group. If I’m not mistaken, I want to say he’s Taehyung’s brother. Tae rooms with Jungkook and Jin.”
“Ah,” you nod, understanding the explanation. Although, all you hear is Jungkook. You hate that even his name in a conversation not even about him puts a sad feeling in your heart. You really do pity him. You also really want to forgive him. But after what he said back in your office, you don’t think you have the means to. His words hurt. They always do. But, he doesn’t know how to apologize. At least not to you. You remember how Aecha was surprised when you explained the situation and told her that he still hasn’t apologized since the incident. It made you wonder if you were the only person he refuses to apologize to.
“Okay, I’m ready. We both look hot. Let’s go,” Aecha says, matter-of-fact. She slaps her pocket mirror closed and shoves it into her purse.
----
You arrive at the sickest party Min Yoongi has ever hosted. Jungkook was right, this year’s party is a banger. Endless drinks, endless space for dancing, endless games, and endless men…boy you have many options tonight.
Aecha claps your shoulder in excitement, telling you that she sees her prey. You understand, letting her make her progress towards bagging Hoseok.
You continue smiling until your eyes land on Jungkook’s. He’s at the beer pong table, a beer in one hand and a pong in the other, ready to throw his next shot. Although, his progress towards throwing it stops when he sees you.
You’d be lying if you said you didn’t want to keep looking at him. Dressed in all black with silver accents accompanying his wrists, ears, eyebrows, and lips. One could say he completely complemented your own outfit.
The fact only makes your heart hurt more. Why? You don’t know. You dropped him. He’s done. Wasn’t even a crush for longer than a day three years ago. Why you’re so hung up on him, you don’t know. The realization has you tearing your eyes away from his man-bun that looks too perfect framing his face, and onto the drinks in the room next to you.
You grab a shot or two. Or three. Or four. But who’s counting? It’s New Year’s Eve, you’re single, have nothing to lose, and have strange feelings toward a man you want to forget. Tonight is the night to get so wasted that you end up achieving that goal.
You think you will be successful when a familiar voice calls your name. Turning around, your eyes meet with Park Jimin’s. The bread-boy. Just the man you wanted to see tonight.
“Jimin!” you hug him. “No way! How long has it been since we baked banana nut bread together?!”
Jimin laughs out loud, hugging you back. “About a year, I’d say,” he smiles. His smile is really cute, reaching from cheek to cheek with that insanely addicting voice of liquid he uses to coat his words. “You’re looking really good tonight, Y/n.” Maybe he will be your saving grace tonight, after all.
“Thanks,” you smile. “You’re not looking too bad yourself.”
“Glad to know you’re pleased.”
“I am,” you smirk. “Somewhat.”
“Oh?” he raises an eyebrow.
“Come,” you change the subject. For some reason, flirting with Jimin feels wrong. Even though you want parts of him, even though you want to be able to flirt with him, something about it just doesn’t feel right. Maybe it’s the intense eyes you feel at the back of your head when you dance on Jimin in the middle of the dance floor. Maybe it’s when you kiss Jimin that you feel as if you’re imagining it’s Jungkook who you’re pressing your lips to.
It’s all wrong. Everything is wrong.
But Jimin touches you like it is right, and you feel somewhat assured until an extra hand is pulling you away from him. Suddenly, you’re drunken vision sees Jimin standing on the dance floor moving farther and farther away from you as this mystery person takes you away from him. Stumbling to keep up with this person’s pace, you turn around and attempt to pry off the strong arm that wraps around your wrist.
“Wha-What do you—who are you?” you ask this person. It isn’t until you realize that the person’s arm is tattooed. It isn’t until you realize that these tattoos are familiar and that they belong to Jeon Jungkook. “Jungkook, let go!”
To which he does, but only when he’s pulled you out of the house and into the alleyway between another house and Yoongi’s. Jungkook pins you against the wall, his forearms pressing against the brick next to your ears.
“What do you think you’re doing?” he demands, voice low and eyes foreboding. Those eyes you’ve never seen before. They’re dark and angry; far, far away from his playful innocent-looking ones. They scare you a little. But you’ve always been good at facing your fears.
“I’m having fun,” you respond, not a smidge of the jitters you're feeling consuming your voice. “What are you doing?”
“Making sure you don’t make any mistakes,” he responds.
“Hah!” you laugh, the alcohol causing you to tilt your head back harshly. You forget there’s brick there, and you’re thankful Jungkook’s reflexes are fast enough to slide his hand beneath your head before it smacked against the brick. “You’re so funny, Kook. You know, that’s actually a good idea. Because the last time I danced on someone like that was with you. And I really regret that.”
Jungkook’s heart pangs in his chest, showing how your words affected him so by closing in on you. His face towers over yours, even though he’s been trying to keep his height as level with you as he can by bending his body at his hips to match your own height. But the closer he gets, the taller he becomes, and the more you have to look up in order to look into his eyes.
You can smell the cologne on his body along with the faint smell of booze on his breath. You hate how his scent makes you fawn over him. All you want to do is kiss him silly. But you’re still mad at him. You're still arguing with him right now.
“You don’t,” he scowls, more so at himself for letting it get this far. The sight of Jimin holding you like that when it was supposed to be him made his blood boil. Fury grew in his veins as he realized he needed to make this right. Right now. Before it’s too late and you’re truly moving on.
“And what if I do, Jungkook?” you lower your voice, words feeling heavy on your mouth. “What if I regret letting my feelings continuously be hurt by you?”
“And what if I told you that I regret it,” he holds your chin in his fingers. “Saying those things to you. I do, y/n. I regret it, and I don’t know why I kept saying those things. And I-I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. It was never my intention to hurt you.”
You pause at his apology. Are you hearing this right? Did Jeon Jungkook just apologize to you? Twice??
“W-Well,” you stutter. Tears start to brim your eyes again for reasons you don’t understand. Maybe because you’re a crybaby. Maybe because this was your reason for not chasing after the man you liked so much. Maybe because his apology gives you the ‘go’ for smashing your lips onto his, feeling his honey lips collide with yours.
They’re just as soft as you imagined they would be. And god, is he a good kisser. His lips alone make a pool in your panties. Your hands slide around his neck, fingertips intertwining in his tied-up locks.
Jungkook’s body nearly stutters when you kiss him. Out of all things, this was the last he expected. Maybe a well-deserved slap or a kick on the shin, but never the feeling of your embrace.
Nevertheless, he doesn’t complain one bit. He’s been dying to feel you. Your lips on his was an imagery he thought he would never have the chance to live out. But, here you are, holding his body close and kissing him like he is the last person you will ever have the chance to kiss in your life.
Desperation crawls into his veins, lifting you up around his waist, and pressing you against the wall.
He’s been craving this for far too long. Craving you for too long. Jungkook can’t stop touching you, your body is just as soft as he remembered. His curiosity begs him to explore more and more of you. But he’s done enough without your permission. So he waits, continuing to kiss you until you take control.
“I’ve been dying to have you like this,” you say between trailing kisses down to his neck. Jungkook moans as you find his sweet spot, and you think it was the prettiest thing you have ever heard in your lifetime. Sucking on the spot, he raises his chest, trying to control his pleasure but nonetheless fails when you bite down on him.
“Y-Y/n,” he calls out your name, just loud enough for you to hear. His breath tickles your name on the shell of your ear, and you think you might have gushed arousal out of your cunt. “Not here,” he pants, trapping your chin between his fingers again. He motions your jaw up to his, tempting himself with light scrapes of his lips touching yours. “I don’t want anyone else to see you.”
“Then where?” you whisper back at him. It is so hard not to smash your lips onto his again, but you want this to continue. And if Jungkook wants you where no one but himself can see you, then you’re bound to be wherever that is.
“My place,” he brushes his nose against your cheek before returning your trail of kisses on his neck back to yours. “No one’s home. I brought a car.” He sucks your neck, leaving bruises all over. He's determined to find not just one sweet spot of yours, but to find them all.
“Wh-Why not the car?” you ask between moans. Jungkook is so good at this. He’s suede and smooth with his touches, hot and passionate with his kisses. He knows how to make you puddy in his hands.
Jungkook chuckles in your ear. “Not with the things I want to do to you,” he bites down on your neck, eliciting a sweet panted moan from your throat. “That won’t work.”
“Then let’s go,” you hold his neck firmly in your palms, stopping him from his parade of kisses. “I don’t want to waste more time.”
“Someone’s eager,” Jungkook smirks, kissing you once before setting you down and taking his keys out of his pocket.
“You have no idea.”
----
The ride over to Jungkook’s is spent palming him in the driver’s seat and Jungkook struggling to focus on the road. He’s not as consumed with alcohol as you might be, even though the effects of it on you stopped midway through making out with Jungkook back at Yoongi’s.
You know you’re doomed when the car abruptly stops. His fist pushes the stick into park, and he rips open the car door, walking around the front of it to come over to you.
You’re still tipsy, however. So, when you’re met with Jungkook’s erection right in your face you can’t help but laugh a little.
“What’s so funny?” he asks you, a little pissed off at your laughter. It’s hot.
Trailing a finger on the zipper to his black jeans, you outline the length of his cock slowly, admiring its size right in front of you. You dream of it fucking you, as if the man in front of you wasn’t on a mission to check that off your list right now.
“You’re so big,” you sigh like a teenage girl. “I want you inside of me, Jungkook,” you smirk, looking up at him from the passenger seat. Jungkook swears his heart leaps out of his chest. He thinks his voice might crack if he says another word, so he clears his throat, dick twitching simultaneously, before he responds.
“Then, c’mon,” he takes your hand, pulling you up and out of the car. “We’re here.” Jungkook smiles at you sweetly. He almost thinks that he should just wait until the morning to fuck you because of your tipsy-drunk moment until you’re kissing and palming him again. Jungkook moans into your mouth, stumbling with you toward his townhome’s entrance. Key fob in hand, Jungkook presses it underneath the door nob, hearing a sound of approval from the security system not long after.
“Teasing me in the car,” he growls against your ear, pushing you against the nearest wall once the door to his home shuts. “You think you weren’t going to get punished for that?”
All you can do is moan. Jungkook’s hands waste no time ripping off every piece of clothing you have on, dying to see you in all your glory.
“Holy fuck,” he pants. It’s almost as if he’s cumming his pants right now at the sight of you. “You’re gorgeous, Y/n,”
You can’t help but blush a little, his glare on you makes you think that he’s not actually saying these things about your body. Not this man. Not the ripped, 6-packed athlete with incredible strength and muscles that could pop you with one headlock around the neck. Maybe it's the booze.
“Take your clothes off, fuckboy,” you demand.
Jungkook shimmies off his black blazer, eyes still on your tits. He wants to suck them and leave marks all over the softness of them. He wants you to be completely covered in him tomorrow morning.
“Don’t call me that,” he walks closer to you, trapping your naked body between his half-clothed one. “I’m not a fuckboy.” he replies, taking off his mock-turtle neck tanktop. You thought it was tight enough on him before, but the sight of his muscles underneath the shirt makes you realize that the shirt did not do him enough justice. Never in a million years did you think Jungkook was this ripped. He basically has boobs. He could probably fit into your bra…
“Then what are you?” you ghost against his lips.
He would like to say “yours”, but he remembers that you’re still tipsy. Would you agree to that? Do you still hate him? He'd like to think 'no' considering how you two are both eager to have each other right now, but he's got a lot of things to ask and make up to you before any titles are made. So he holds off.
“We can decide that in the morning,” he settles on, flashing you a small smile before delving into your lips. His chest is firm against yours, his back so wide, you struggle to wrap your arms around it as he leads you to what you assume is his bedroom.
His room is just as you expected it would be. Covered in trophies and pictures, as neat and organized as you expected. But what really catches you off guard is how comfortable his bed is. The smell of him engulfs you as he gently places you on his bed. You think about how this night would be if you decided to fuck in the car. How you wouldn't be able to see this view on top of you so clearly if you did. You’re thankful Jungkook insisted on his bedroom. Now, you can see his handsome face clearly in the lighting of his room as he pulls his pants down to his ankles, leaving himself in a pair of white Calvins. They do nothing to hide the length and girth of his cock, and you shutter knowing that he’s going to completely rip you open.
“Don’t worry, I’ll prep you,” he whispers in your ear, sensing your worry. Jungkook’s lips find your neck again, gently kissing his previously left bruises before leaving more of them on the areas of your clavicle and chest.
“What if I don’t want to be prepped?” you whimper, back arching into his chest when his mouth engulfs your nipple, sucking on it hard. “W-What if I want you ri-right now?”
Jungkook laughs deeply as he twirls your nipple around with his tongue. He releases you with a quick “pop”, which makes your head fall back in pleasure. You can feel Jungkook’s body moving up to come face-to-face with yours. “Patience,” he gives you a quick kiss. “I refuse to hurt you any more than I have already.”
“Jungkook,” you coo, holding his jaw in your palm. He looks ashamed of himself. You’ve never seen this side of him, and it feels good knowing that he does harbor those kinds of feelings. Especially since he is comfortable with you seeing him display them. “I forgive you, Kook.”
“You shouldn’t,” he buries his face in your neck again, kissing you lightly as his hand trails down to your wet cunt. His fingers find your clit. You moan when he starts circling slow infinities on the sensitive bud.
“But I do, Jungkook,” you pant, hand coming up to drag your fingers through his hair. You pull out his bun, watching as his hair falls over the crown of his head and onto your skin. It smells like coconut, and you can’t help but bury your nose in it as he continues to gather your juices on his fingertips.
“I was bad to you,” he grumbles against your neck. This time, his fingers circle your entrance. Legs wrapping around his hips, you invite his fingers inside, to which he obliges. Just his index finger feels you first. Jungkook ruts against the mattress at the feeling, imagining the walls that squeeze his finger tight around his cock. Yeah, you definitely need prepping.
“But, you apologized,” you whisper to him, massaging his scalp. Your hips twitch when he adds another finger. You can’t imagine the size of him in you like this. Two of his massive fingers are enough to make you feel close to cumming around them. He’s going to be the death of you.
Pumping in and out of you, Jungkook moves his head to face yours, his nose kissing your own.
“I’m sorry,” he says once again. “I’m sorry for spilling coffee on you, and being an asshole, and making fun of your student’s art, and showing up at your work, and pissing you off, and making you hate me so much you—”
“J-Jungkook,” you stop him. It’s hard to concentrate on a response when his pace quickens with every mention of something he did wrong, as if he was getting angrier the more he realized how much he did to hurt you.
“All I wanted to do was the opposite of what I did,” he kisses your cheek. “B-But it’s hard for me to face negativity without being cocky and stupid about it. I thought that by making it worse, I could make it better.”
“What a strange tactic,” you chuckle against his cheek. Your heart thumps when he flashes you a smile, telling you with his eyes that he’d never do something like that to you ever again. “I’m proud of you.” You smile.
“S-Stop,” Jungkook adds his thumb to your clit as his fingers continue to fuck you slowly. The addition causes you to arch your back into him. Jungkook takes the opportunity to wrap his arm underneath your spine, holding you secure against his body. “You’re going to make me want to claim you if you say that kind of shit to me.”
“What if I want you to claim me?” you challenge.
Jungkook nearly growls into your neck, fighting the urge to just flip you over and ravage you. “Stop doing that to me, y/n,”
He feels your fingers start to tug at the rim of his boxers, and Jungkook can’t be any more excited to feel you around him. He presses one more finger into you before allowing you to shove his boxers halfway down his thighs.
Jungkook moans at the feeling of your soft fingers around his cock, head falling into the crevice of your neck again. His dick is red and angry and begging to fuck you hard and deep. You swirl the precum that leaks from him and circle it around his cockhead, eliciting a strained moan into the skin by your ear from the man above you. His hips jerk at the sudden movement, preparing themselves to fuck you hard and fast.
“I think I’m ready, Kook,” you whisper into his hair.
Jungkook detaches himself from your neck, standing up to quickly knock off his boxers onto the floor. He takes your calves in his hands, spreading you before his fingertips spread your pussy open slowly. Jungkook takes a long look at you. You're basically drooling from your cunt, the slick creating shiny lines off his fingers as he moves them up and off your pussy. Glistening and pulsing for him to fill you up, he knows you’re going to be a tight fit. The fact only excites him further.
He pulls himself onto the bed, pushing your thighs up with his body. Pumping his cock a few times, he lines you up with his dick, pressing his cockhead against your slick.
“You sure you want this?” he leans down to your face. Your thighs are trapped against your torso, Jungkook folding you up for him nice and good. You appreciate that he doesn’t do a thing without your consent, that he doesn’t dare to do anything unless you’re comfortable. A complete 180 from the emotionally constipated Jungkook you’ve been experiencing for the past two weeks.
You nod to him, looking into his eyes. But this doesn’t satisfy him.
“I need a verbal answer, y/n,” he kisses your cheek, dick rubbing up and down your warm entrance.
“Yes, Jungkook. I want you,” you lean into his cheek.
The feeling of his girth stretching you open is enough for you to dig your nails into the smooth skin of his back. Never in a million years did you think you’d be stretched this good.
He doesn’t go in all the way, letting you adjust to his girth before slipping his length all the way into you.
You swear his tip kisses your cervix. When he pulls out and slams back into you, you can confirm that he did, in fact, kiss it. Jungkook moans against you, gripping your hands in his own and pinning them above your head. His hips are strong, slamming into you with everything he has left in him. You’re a goddess below him, legs around his shoulders, fingers digging into the upper side of his palm, tears streaming down your cheeks as you feel all he is giving you.
“F-Faster,” you beg. Jungkook is happy to obey.
He takes your hips and flips you over, his hands pressing against the upper of your back, pushing your chest down into his sheets. Once satisfied, Jungkook firmly grabs your hips and pistons into you faster, just like you wanted. You’re a moaning mess beneath him, fingers gripping the sheets, legs twitching in resistance as he fucks into you like a madman. His nose is crunched, lip bleeding between his teeth as he tries to hold back his orgasm. Usually, he never feels ready to release this early. But, you’re the girl he’s always wanted. And now you’re in his bed, begging him to fuck you without prepping you and go faster and claim you, and—god, it's all too perfect. You’re too perfect.
Your moans are like honey in his ears, the sweetest music he’s ever heard. He slaps your ass hard—once, twice, so many times. You scream to it all, each one pushing you over the edge.
“This is mine, you hear?” he growls from behind you, gripping your ass in his hand before slapping it again. “You hear me?” he asks again, gripping your hips tighter and forcibly slapping them against his own hips. The impact makes you gush around him, your high following his forcefulness in squirts of your release. You don’t see it, but Jungkook’s eyes roll to the back of his head at the sight. No way did you just squirt all over his cock. Can this night get any better?
Maybe it can, because he feels his own release closely following. But he edges himself, pulling out of you to look at the mess you made instead of chasing his high.
You’re so embarrassed, digging your face into your hands as you hear him press his hand into his sopping wet duvet cover.
“I-I’m so sorry,” you whimper. You refuse to meet his eyes, even when he flips you over and sits next to your face.
“C’mere,” he pats his lap.
“Jungkook,” you whine, absolutely mortified. Is he mad? You can’t tell. He hasn’t mentioned anything about your release.
“Baby, come here,” he speaks to you with honey laced in his voice. Your heart thumps at the fact that he called you “baby”. Were your dreams coming true?
You gather yourself and weakly climb onto his lap, immediately digging your face into his shoulder.
“Was that bad? You didn’t cum,” you ask him, voice trembling into his neck. God, this is so mortifying. “I won’t do it again, I pro—”
“Like fucking hell you won’t,” he holds your waist firmly again. “That was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen y/n,” he bites your ear. “It’s taking everything in me not to be gentle with you right now.”
Your eyes meet his hungered ones. You were wrong, and you know it not only from him saying so but also from his pulsating cock below. It is twitching and leaking with so much precum, you almost think that it is his cum itself if it weren’t for the clearness of it. And then you realize that he’s edging himself.
“I-I want this to last longer, but I don’t want to hurt you cause I—” his head falls back in a strained moan when you press a finger to his tip, playing with the precum leaking down himself. “Cause I know I will if you don’t take control of me right now…so, ride me,” he demands.
You kiss his neck, feeling lighter that you made him feel strong enough to nearly lose his control just from your orgasm. With power in your hands, you lift your hips just enough to hover your pussy over his twitching cock, sliding down slowly.
Jungkook’s hands come to your hips again, completely out of breath. “H-Holy shit, y/n,” he gasps when he stares down at his dick disappearing and reappearing as you bounce on his cock. “God, you’re going to murder me, aren’t you?”
You laugh at his comment. Although, he’s far from laughing, focusing all his energy on controlling his orgasm. Face falling into your neck, he’s mumbling things you don’t understand as you massage his sweaty scalp again. He moans at your touch, feeling overly sensitive and extremely, beyond-belief, horny. He wants to cum so bad, but he also wants this to last.
“You can cum, Kook,” you whisper into his scalp. You don’t know if you have it in you to cum again. Squirting is so powerful, and it usually takes everything out of you. But you might, considering you have the strength to ride him to no tomorrow. “It’s okay.”
“N-No,” he breathes against your neck, panting. “Can’t. Want it to last.”
“Don’t worry,” you laugh against his cheek. “I don’t plan on making you a one-night, Jungkook.”
“A-Ah,” his hips twitch into you. “I-um, ffuccck, y/n!” he sways your hips back and forth on his cock rapidly. “Y-You sure? It’s going to be a lot.”
“Mhm,” you smile down at him.
“Fuck, o-okay,” he breathes out shakily. Jungkook then bucks his hips fast into yours from underneath you, unrelenting and ruthless. You feel his hot ropes fill you up just seconds later. For what feels like a full minute of him pumping his cum into you, his face resting against your breasts in fucked-out glory.
You two rest there, letting his cum pool at the connection of your bodies while you rest against each other. What finally breaks you out of your own daze is the sound of fireworks just outside Jungkook's bedroom window.
You can see the array of colors lighting up the sky, his digital clock on his nightstand reading 12:00am.
“Hey,” you whisper into his hair, kissing his sweaty scalp. “Happy New Year.”
Jungkook detaches his cheek from your chest, bringing his face up to graze his nose against yours. Smiling into your lips he whispers,
“I’m gonna make it right, y/n. This will be our year.”
---
[Bonus]
[Aecha]: Hope you got home okay.
[Aecha]: Ended up a little stuck between Hoseok’s thighs.
[Y/n]: Funny story.
[Y/n]: I never made it home last night.
[Aecha]: WHAT?!
[Aecha]: Are you okay??
[Y/n]: More than okay.
y/n sent an image
[Aecha]: No
[Aecha]: Fucking
[Aecha]: Way
[Aecha]: I—AKJDAKSJHFJKASFKLDJSAFKLJSFA!!! Y/N!!!!
[Y/n]: So like.
[Y/n]: I’m no longer a single lady?
[Aecha]: AHHHHHHHHH Y/N!!!!!
[Aecha]: JESUS DID HE LEAVE ANY INCH OF YOUR SKIN Y/S/C?!?
[Y/n]: We had a lot of…catching up to do lol.
[Aecha]: I’d say.
[Aecha]: I’m the maid of honor. Understand me?
[Y/n]: Lol. You got it.
~~
[End. Do not copy. Original work of @jungkookstatts , 2023]
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toxycodone · 2 months
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Omg :( Laios begging to stop when you physically can’t get off of him is so delicious and would probably make me cry because I feel bad but not enough to stop grinding on him lmao. Ugly crying Laios is so incredibly hot when that’s never been something I’m into but omggg. I need him red in the face, tears streaming down his face, and with a little snot bubble. He’s so ugly like this but it’s beautiful because he’s let himself go so much and it’s him, how could I not love it??
Anon do not even get me STARTED. Dacryphilia is one of my biggest kinks I cannot lie.
Reverse knotted Laios just sobbing underneath you, his hands on your hips trying to push you off his poor overstimulated cock while you’re just grinding against him, cooing words of encouragement and telling him how good of a boy he is for you. 💞
He had NO idea what he was in for when it came to sex with you. He thought he did, I mean his research as a monster fanatic proved pretty useful in the past, but here he’s helpless. Trying to pry you off only makes things worse. His body betrays him with spasms and instances of tensing up before he’s cumming into you again and again. It gets to where he’s just shooting blanks but still.
all the while your walls just massage him and milk him for everything he’s worth. You’re panting above him and can’t help but feel that primal urge to absolutely ruin him. He’s prey underneath you and you can do what you please to him. The salty taste of his tears and sweaty skin drives you wild as you lick a stripe up his cheek. The smell of sex lingers thick in the air between you two. YEAH
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ponderingmoonlight · 9 months
Text
How JJK men react to different insecurities part 1
Pairings: Nanami x reader with facial scars (reqested by @ynackerman9499) Megumi x fem! reader with small breasts (requested by anon) Sukuna x reader with acne (requested by @sanicsmut)
Word Count: 2,9k
Warnings: if you feel triggered by any of those insecurities please don't read it, I'm writing this out of an insecure pov - there's nothing wrong with having scars, acne or small breasts okay 🤍 Hope y'all enjoy 🤍
Kento Nanami - facial scars
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You look at yourself in the mirror, eyes already starting to sting in tears. Why? Why did it have to end like this? You were never a pity person, never worried too much about looks. But this, this is something completely different.
“Hey darling, are you okay?”
“Yeah…”, you mumble in response, shaky hand mindlessly dropping your toothbrush into the sink.
You hate the way you look, the way those ugly scars are now a part of your face that will never fade away. Even though you are lucky you even survived, even though all that counts for you is that your precious boyfriend is still around, you’ve been avoiding looking at your own self ever since, covering yourself with makeup and masks even around him.
Him. Kento Nanami. The light of your life, the best boyfriend you could ask for. He told you over and over how much he loves you, that he couldn’t care less about a few scars decorating your face. But ever since that fateful day, you hid yourself very well from him – so well that he hasn’t seen your face ever since.
“Hey, what’s wrong?”, a gentle voice behind you mumbles.
Before you are able to react, he wraps his arms around you from behind and presses your body against his large frame. Frantically, you cover your face with your hands, your mask laying on top of the shelf on the other side of the room. Fuck, why didn’t you lock the door as usual? How could you be so careless? If he gets to see you like this, a jaw-dropping gorgeous man like Kento…
Would he still love you after seeing you like this when you aren’t even able to accept yourself?
“Please stop hiding from me, (y/n). I know the last weeks were rough, that you are insecure about the scars the fight left on your face. But please, just let me look at you without makeup or that mask, let me finally see the love of my life again. You are too precious to not be looked at.”
“I’m not”, you cough out.
Don’t cry, don’t make it more embarrassing than it already is. You have always been so strong, so independent. Crying over something ridiculous like this doesn’t suit you at all. You know yourself that it’s stupid, hiding from the love of your life because of a few scars. But every time you look into the mirror, you see nothing but a crippled version of what you used to be, a shadow of the person Kento fell in love with.
You couldn’t take it. Over and over, you imagined how he’d stare at you with disgust creeping up his face, turning away from you and never coming back. No wonder, Kento is a very attractive man after all, women hitting on him every time both of you go out. But you…One single glimpse in the mirror is enough to make you shiver, to let a single tear fall down your eye.
You are far away from being attractive by now.
“I hate seeing you like this and it truly breaks my heart that I’m not able to see your gorgeous face anymore-“
“Because it’s not”, you scream so suddenly that he flinches.
“I look nothing like the person you fell in love with years ago! I-I’m nothing but a shadow of myself, Kento! If you see me like this, you…”
You can’t put it into words, the thought alone cutting through your heart like a knife through warm butter. He’s better off without you and you know it, he’d definitely be able to pull a nice partner for himself, one that doesn’t look as worn down as yourself. But your heart simply can’t take it, just thinking about him with someone else feels like dying from inside.
You can’t lose him. Even if it’s selfish.
“(y/n).”
Gently, he positions himself in front of you and grabs your face. You want to run away, want to hide your ugly scars from his gaze. But instead, you just stare at him blankly, tears rolling down your cheeks like a waterfall by now. Is this the moment, the moment he realizes that he doesn’t want to be with you anymore?
“Just like I expected. You look as breath-taking as you did back then. These scars show nothing but how strong you are, that you are able to survive everything. Why would you ever suggest that I’d leave you because of something like this? You are my treasure, my everything, (y/n). Wouldn’t you love me if I had scars all over my face?”
“Of course I would”, you sniff immediately.
Kento smiles down at you softy, placing a kiss on every little scar on your face while you cry your eyes out.
How? How do you even deserve a caring man like him, how is he still able to look at you with nothing but affection in his eyes?
“See? Now, put away those masks and your makeup and be proud of what you did, okay? You saved the lives of our first years. Never forget how strong you are.”
“I love you more than anything else, Kento”, you mumble before pressing your face against his firm chest and getting lost in his scent.
“I love you too, darling. Maybe even more with those scars.”
Megumi Fushiguro - small breasts
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You watch in sheer disinterest as a random girl from another Jujutsu sorcerer school positions herself in front of you, her cheeky grin almost eating you up alive.
“And who are you?”
“I’m (y/n) and a student here at Jujutsu High”, you remark dryly, not interested the slightest in her cheeky tone.
From the outside, she definitely looks like a dream girl. Tall but not too tall, blonde but not too blonde, doe eyes but not too innocent. And not to mention, the big pair of cherries that seems to stare right through your soul.
Even though you know that you are a decent looking girl, this one thing about your body always made you feel insecure. Every damn day of puberty, you hoped for a miracle overnight, that your breast might eventually start growing. But of course, that never happened.
Instead, you seem to be stuck with small boobs until the end of time. And while it definitely has its advantages here and there, it always makes you feel bad about yourself when you see girls like her, girls who are blessed with those natural curves.
“What kind of woman is your type?”, you suddenly hear from afar, ears perking up just the slightest.
“I don’t know.”
You swallow. That voice you know all to well, the voice of bored Megumi Fushiguro. Who is he talking to? And why on earth does your heart start racing, waiting desperately for his response?
“Are you more like an ass or a boob guy?”
“As long as they have an unshakable character, I won’t ask for more.”
“I saw the way you blinked when I said boobs.”
“There’s nothing wrong with admitting the truth”, Yuji interjects.
“Even if I do, what’s the purpose of all these stupid questions!?”
Your heart sinks. Ever since you’ve joined Jujutsu High, you always had both eyes set on that gorgeous boy. And even though it always seemed a little ridiculous, you thought he even liked you back from time to time. How stupid it was to think that a boy like him would want a girl like you, how stupid to even consider you are his type. Aren’t all boys nowadays into big boobs or big butts?
To be honest, you have neither.
“Why are you looking at me so sad now? Oh, are you jealous? Don’t worry, not everyone has the right to be blessed by mother nature. You’ll find someone who loves you the way you are, though – looking like a stick.”
Her words. Her venomous words shouldn’t hit you with full force, her words shouldn’t make tears sting in the corners of your eyes.
But oh they do.
With a swift motion, you get up from the stairs you were sitting on, running up as fast as you can to avoid curious looks. Damn, how was a bitch like her able to make you feel this miserable, why does it even bother you this much that you have a smaller chest?
Because everyone around you doesn’t have this issue. Because it seems like you’re the only one who isn’t blessed. Even Nobara and Maki have bigger boobs than you, even though Maki is well-trained. Why do you have to look this way? And why…
Why isn’t this what Megumi wants?
“Have you seen her? That looked like (y/n) running into that room”, Megumi mutters, looking after you in confusion.
Why would you run into a storage room so rapidly? You almost looked sad, as if something hurt you. He clenches his fist, not even caring about Yuji’s answer anymore. Out of all people, you are the one who shouldn’t feel bad a single moment, whoever did this to you will-“
“(y/n)”, he breathes out.
There you sit, back against the wall and your face in your hands, tears visibly running down your face. His heart almost stops. Megumi has never seen you cry, you were always the cool and composed one. What made you sit there, crying your eyes out?
“Don’t look at me”, you spit at him, turning away in an instant while hugging your knees.
Your words hit him with full force. Why did you sound so furious, did he do something wrong?
“But (y/n), I want to know what-“
“You’re not interested in my anyway, aren’t you?”
You know all too well how ridiculous and childish your words sound, but you can’t keep yourself together. All these months you roamed after him, thought you’d really stand a chance. And now…
And now Megumi Fushiguro isn’t into girls with small breasts?
“Why would you think that?”, he replies in an instant.
Instinctively, he rushes to your side, his mind racing. When did he ever give you the idea that he isn’t interested in you? Of course, he wasn’t exactly clear about it. After all, he himself was scared that you might not be interested in him and everything would turn out awkward after his confession. But did he really treat you this badly?
“Didn’t you say it yourself?”
The venomous tone of your voice makes him flinch. Even with your face puffy from all the tears and twisted in agony, you still look absolutely breath-taking. God, when did he mess up so bad? He can’t lose you like this, not when he doesn’t even know what happened-
“If you’re not attracted to girls with small breasts, I’m certainly not the one for you.”
Megumi has to blink a few times, mind trying to understand the words that just left your mouth. He, into girls with big breast? He, not into you? It doesn’t make any sense. You, the most wonderful girl walking on this earth? You with a body that makes his knees go weak in an instant? You, the girl he’s hopelessly in love with?
“What are you talking about? You are the only one I care about”, he clarifies before thinking twice.
Your heart skips a beat, eyes darting towards him in an instant. One look into his innocent orbs tells you that he isn’t just lying into your face, that he actually means what he just said. Does that mean…?
“B-but…Just a few moments ago, you said it yourself!”, you demand weakly.
“You mean my conversation with that guy from Kyoto? (y/n), I couldn’t care less about things like that. The only think that’s important for me is your character made of pure gold, okay? And also, I love your body the way it is. You look absolutely stunning. And your breast do too.”
In an instant, your cheeks turn bright red. Oh god, did he really just say that? Megumi wants to punch himself for his unfiltered words, for the fact that he clearly made you uncomfortable. Is there a way out of this misery?
“I-I mean…I think they look really good. You look really good. You don’t need big breasts for that. And I imagine small breast have their-“
“Please”, you interrupt him.
“I get it, but can we please stop talking about my boobs like that?”
Ryomen Sukuna - acne
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“A pretty bad position you put yourself him, huh?”, the king of curses in front of you sneers.
Your hands fight desperately against the invisible chains, eyes searching for the tiniest possibility of a way out. But it’s impossible. After all, you aren’t held hostage by anyone. No, the man who’s sitting in front of you with his head resting in his hand is none other than Sukuna himself.
“Rather a position you put me in, idiot”, you bite back.
He chuckles unpromising, hand grabbing your chin before you’re even able to fight back. His eyes let your blood freeze in your veins, heart pumping so loudly that you bet he can hear it from afar.
“I don’t need to remind you that you’re here because you’re fighting for the wrong side, right?”
“The wrong side? Whose side is right, then?”
“Mine, of course.”
You snort disdainfully, yanking your chin out of his firm grasp. This guy has some nerves, talking down at you when you were out there enjoying yourself.
“I bet you’d fit well right by my side. You’re strong, you’re hot-“
“Don’t call me hot”, you interrupt immediately.
Out of instinct, you turn your face away from him. The face that makes you feel uncomfortable every time someone looks at it, the face that is responsible for multiple dumb comments you received when you were still at school. You know it’s a quite common thing. Many people fight against acne, some worse than you. But god, how much you hate to look at yourself, to see a new red spot on your face each and every day. No one at Jujutsu High ever pointed it out or looked at you in disgust. Yes, the times were people picked on you because of your acne are long gone.
But oh, their comments still haunt you, they still make you believe that you will never be able to be fully beautiful with those things covering your damn face.
“Why wouldn’t I?”
May the ground swallow you whole and get you out of this uncomfortable position. Why on earth does it have to be Sukuna who gets curious about you rejecting his compliment? Why can’t Yuji just regain the control over his body and put an end to your suffering?
“Because it’s a lie”, you press out.
Again, Sukuna gets a hold of your chin, his face now so near that you aren’t able to escape his stinging gaze anymore.
“Why are you saying that, brat?”
“Are you blind or something?”, you bark at him.
It feels like back then when your classmates used to pick on you. But this time, it isn’t a dumb kid that just wants to make fun of you. No, this time it’s actually the king of curses who toys with your insecurity, the only sore point you have about yourself.
“You may be. Because I don’t get why you’re talking down yourself like that.”
“Don’t you see that stuff covering my whole face?”
You can’t take it anymore, his intense staring paired with your own embarrassment. Within the last months, you really thought you got over the fact that your acne won’t go away that fast, that you’ll have to fight for it to disappear. And since no one ever mentioned it at Jujutsu High, you began to tolerate the red marks covering your skin. But at this moment, your sensitive confidence seems to shatter.
“And what about it? I don’t get what you’re talking about, brat”, Sukuna remarks dryly.
You blink a few times. The bored expression on his face tells you more than clearly that he isn’t making fun of you at all. Is it really possible that Ryomen Sukuna meant what he said, that he isn’t bothered about your face?
“I have acne all over my face”, you breathe out.
He rolls his eyes and shrugs his shoulders, hand moving your chin right and left.
“I don’t give zero fucks about that.”
It’s a simple answer, an answer spat in your face with disinterest. But oh does it make sparks fly around you and your heart almost beat out of your chest. The king of curses doesn’t care about acne.
The fucking king of curses called you hot despite your face is covered in red spots.
“I don’t know why anyone would care about shit like that. You’re strong and you’re hot, what about those spots?”, he continues while rolling his eyes.
“You really mean it”, you mutter more to yourself than him, a smile creeping up your face.
You feel like a little girl, the urge to giggle and jump up and down almost becoming unbearable. He really finds you hot. He really saw your face and lost not a single thought about your acne.
And he’s the king of curses.
“Why are you looking at me like that, brat? Did you forget that I kidnapped you?”
“Oh, you can kidnap me anytime”, you answer almost euphoric.
Sukuna tilts his head, eyes scanning you up and down.
“Humans really are strange.”
Tags:  @arehzhera @ploylulla @tzubaki @beatrexworld @kenstarsworld @dazaisdick @hellkaiserinphoenix  @lauv4chuuya @shadowfoxey @starlightanyaaa @sindela @kayleegomez @sunshine7queen @magalimachete @mokoartpost @gatitam @idontknow1123 @creative1writings @sanicsmut  @mynahx3 @sad-darksoul @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix @chuyasthighs0 @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @wxwieeee @lovelyluna1 @froufrousnowman @hidazinie @tomiokathedepresso  @gojosrealwife  @coffeeluvr96 @mahi-tamashi @weebotaku21 @chaoticwinnercupcake @lees-chaotic-brain  @risuola  @sugurulefttesticle @wordskeeper @baku2345 @polarbvnny @ruixrei @bam-bam-bam-bame-blog @lavenderdrxp @localhehecat @alicerhr @kayleegomez
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riverbutghost · 9 months
Text
Drunk In Love
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Pairing: Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Fem!Reader
Trope: ❛ people get hurt if they get too close to me. ❜
Warnings: Angst, hurt/comfort, fluffy in the end, getting shot, military stuff etc.
since non of ya’ll send requests, I did a request for myself💃🕺💃🕺💃🕺💃🕺💃🕺💃
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You were scared. Your heart was beating so hard that you could hear the sound of it.
“Sir, I need to speak with you.”
Your voice cracked at the end, making Ghost spin around in his chair. His eyes looked tired and distant, his desk was full of papers.
“Is it urgent? I’m kinda busy right now,”
There was a lump forming in your throat. Since that day, he didn’t speak to you for even a second. He was cold, distant. You saw him from a far only.
One time, you were back on your feet and wanted to match with him on your first practice after… yeah.
And he said you were weak, you looked weak and he chose another rookie to train with.
You remembered feeling so exhausted after the training, your head swaying and your ribs aching after getting an accidental punch to your side. Gaz apologized profusely, but you didn’t mind it.
Ghost was the one who minded it, though.
He gave Gaz a hard punishment, he made you go to the nurse and never train again for two weeks. You cried a little that day, you felt like a garbage after all. Like a toddler who was always in trouble.
“Uhm,”
He sighed and turned around, leaving you all hurt and confused again.
“I don’t have time for this.”
You sucked your bottom lip, feeling every ounce of pain from his words.
You got out, your mood souring immediately.
_
“Ghost, let them look.”
Price’ voice was gentle, like he was trying not to scare the animal.
His whole body trembled as the doctors forcefully took you out of his arms, your body weak and eyes shut as they hurriedly took care of your wounds.
He couldn’t help the twitch of his hands, his mind wandering off to things that made him choke on his spit.
He still got nauseous from that day. You were bleeding in his arms, your bright and shiny eyes were closed and your heartbeat was slow.
He gripped the pen tightly, his breathing slowly getting worse.
“fuck..”
He mumbled and got up, taking his mask off and locking the door.
He started breathing in and out, the tightness in his lungs started fading away.
-
“Hey lass, why you lookin’ like that?”
Soap pointed to his face as he sat down next to you.
“Your fuckin’ lieutenant is giving me a massive headache!”
Soap looked as shocked as you were at your outburst.
“Uhmm, well Gaz is calling for me,”
He got up and sprinted out of the room, making you feel a lot worse than before. Nobody wanted you. You were going to ugly cry.
You didn’t want to cry but it was hard to hold the tears.
“Sergeant, in my room. Now.”
As tears gathered in your eyes, you heard your stone faced lieutenant’s voice. No, you wanted to say. But he was your superior.
You shakily got up and turned around. He didn’t even wait for you.
With quick and steady steps, you knocked on his door.
“Come in.”
Without making eye contact, you sat down on the chair.
“Yes sir?”
Simon inspected you, the redness of your eyes and the puffiness of your mouth.
“You cried.”
A shocking wave swept through your body, a gasp left your mouth.
“No-“
“Don’t lie to me, soldier. Why did you cry? Who, made you cry?”
You wanted to laugh, the audacity of this man.
“You did.”
Simon’s face hardened with the way you looked at him, so sharp and beautiful.
“Did my words hurt you?”
Your gaze fell to your lap. Simon felt his chest tighten as he saw a tear forming on your eye.
“I apologize. You have to understand that I am your lieutenant, you can’t get hurt by my words.”
You shook your head.
“You changed, Simon.”
Simon clenched his jaw, a weird feeling crushed down on his chest.
He whispered your name.
“I don’t want this.”
He shook his head, a panicked breath leaving his mouth.
“Whatever you’re thinking will never happen. You and I both know that, love.”
You licked your lips and his attention was drawn on you.
“No, all i know is that I want you.”
Simon sighed, suddenly feeling too hot under the mask.
“I don’t.”
A sharp pain formed in your belly, feeling like a fool all of a sudden.
“Tell me, Simon. Spit it on my face, do you want me? If you don’t, I’ll never speak to you other than business. I promise.”
Simon thought for a moment. Did he really want you gone? No, he needed you to be healthy after that day. But he could still look at you from far away, he wanted that right?
“People get hurt if they get too close to me.”
Your face softened, realizing that this was hard for him. When you opened your mouth to soothe him he cut you off.
“Fuck it, I do want you. In my arms, bed, everywhere.”
Relief washed over you. Simon suddenly stood up, taking his mask off. You saw his face before but this time, it felt more intimate.
You got up as well, taking slow steps towards him.
“Kiss me, then.”
Simon’s throat bobbled as he swallowed his nerves. His hands shot out to hold your body against his as he pressed his scarred lips against yours, feeling the soft warmth of them.
He still wasn’t sure of whatever you two were beginning to do, but he realized that he was too old and life was too short. He kissed you deeply, like a hungry wolf, memorizing the way your lips felt against his.
You moaned as his hand went up to your breasts, gasping at his sudden change of behavior.
Let’s say that, Simon and you had the other day sleeping in.
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georgiapeach30513 · 2 months
Text
Two Good Reasons, Part 2
Summary: The truth comes out
Pairings: Andy Barber X Reader
Rating: mature
Warnings:  language, mentions of cheating, mention of fertility issues, depictions of depression, 18+ ONLY
Word Count: 4K
Previous
Series Masterlist
*dividers created by @firefly-graphics
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Your leg bounces up and down when you look at your phone. You are late. And knowing Scott, he’s going to use this against you. You rarely went out. But this…
You look down at your clothes. His clothes. What else were you supposed to do but grab his button up, and some sweats. It still smelled like him, and you’re swooning. You can still feel him in your body. On your body. He didn’t just fuck you, he made sure to implant his entire soul in you, and it leaves you longing for more. Things with Andy have always been good enough for one time.
It was beautiful, and perfect, and just like how you would imagine seeing him again. But you can’t want him. Your life is a mess, and you can’t bring him into it. You give a nod to the Uber driver as you get out of the vehicle. Your heeled shoes oddly matched with his clothes, and make too much noise as you walk up the front steps.
Walking into the house, you’re met with Scott glaring at you. You don’t answer. You want to see your babies. But he makes a show out of looking at his watch. “You’re over an hour late.”
“Sorry, I ruined your Sunday morning, Scott.”
“And what the hell are you wearing?” His hand gestures down your body, and you feel your cheeks flare up in anger more than embarrassment. Like he had any room to talk. He smirks. Reaching across the counter to slide your wallet towards you. “The District Attorney dropped this off for you. Guess I know whose clothes you’re wearing. My god. How can you be so fucking stupid?”
“I’m stupid? How’s Taylor? Your twenty-three year old fiancé? She’s just waiting for the damn divorce to be finalized, huh?” He hates when you bring up the engagement, or her age. Hell, everyone could tell she was young. Most thought she was younger than twenty-three.
Scott takes a deep breath. His fingers tap on the counter. “If you give us the house, I won’t fight you for full custody.”
Your eyes immediately well with furious tears as you stare at the man that you loved so much. You gave up everything to give him the family and home he wanted. The only thing you couldn’t give him anymore was children. Taylor could. He made sure of it. Plus her boobs weren’t droopy from breastfeeding. Her hips weren’t wider from bearing children. Her hair wasn’t thinner because you gave to your babies.
“Why are you always crying? My god, we’ve been over this. You’re getting alimony. Why do you need this house?”
“Why do you?” you counter immediately.
He sighs, shaking his head, “Because we’re going to have a family. You’re — not.”
“You son of a bitch. You're bargaining my kids for this ugly house? You think you have a leg to stand on for full custody?” This is the thing that infuriates you most about Scott. He was a good father, but now that the veil has been removed, you see that his children were more of a show for him. Something to talk about at meetings. Brag about when Audrey got into the best Pre-K in the city. Not because he actually enjoyed them. That was you.
“I have a career. You have…”
“I was your wife, and their mom, nurse, teacher, friend, entertainment, cook, maid,” you would do it all again to spend time with them. Them. It pains you knowing that Suede is at a center, when with Audrey you spent every waking minute with her.
“Yeah, I get it. You did all that for me, but that still doesn’t mean anything. I paid for this house. I’m the one that makes the money.”
“Get out,” you answer blankly. Don’t argue with him outside of the courtroom. That’s what your cheap lawyer told you. Don’t give him ammunition to take your children away. He wanted you to stay at home. He wanted you to not use your college degree. He wanted you to give everything for the family.
“We’re not finished. I am trying to negotiate things with you. Especially since you’re running around sleeping with the DA. You think that’s going to actually help your case? Seriously?” Of all the things to say, this was the worst. To think he thought so little of you that you would sleep with someone that could leverage the case. He’s an ass. But he also knows about your Andy. Too bad, he didn’t realize they were the same person.
“Andy is not just the DA,” Scott looks over your features, and your mouth turns up into a smile. Is he really lecturing you about sleeping around? At least you chose someone that was more than a tight body and big tits. You chose someone you loved, could see a future with. And you were pushing him away, “Andy is an old friend.”
“You bitch,” you shrug, starting to walk backwards towards your children who should be taking a nap. “Are you fucking kidding me. That’s — you — don’t tell me you fucked him so…”
“Mommy!” You shoot him a glare as Audrey comes running down the hallway. Jumping into your arms, and you hug her so tightly. “You smell nice,” you hope Scott hears her. You weren’t into playing games where your children are concerned, but you hope he feels even a tiny prick of the pain you felt when you found him fucking Taylor in your bed. “Me and Suedey missed you.”
“I missed you, too, baby. You want to go get Suede, so you guys can tell daddy, bye?” She furrows her brows, while she looks at you confused. “Baby what is it?”
“It’s nothing. Audrey, go get Suede,” he gives her a little wink, and you place her back on the floor, and turn to look at him. “It’s nothing.”
“If that woman was in my house again, so help me God, Scott,” it’s the one thing you hated. Her being here. Of course you didn’t want them at her apartment either, and neither did Taylor. It was too small and they caused a mess, which is why overnight stays with their dad were few and far between.
“She doesn’t like being alone.”
“And the agreement was for her to not be in my dwellings. This is my dwelling.”
“And it should be ours! You don’t even want it. You hate it here. You’re just doing this because you don’t want Taylor and I to have it.”
“I’m doing this? Who is the one that said you won’t go for full custody if I give you the house? Taylor put you up to that?” Scott stops his retort as a swollen eyed Suede comes waddling into the room, and you lift him up. “Why is he snotty? I was gone one night, why is he snotty?” You hate being that mom, but with Suede, you have to be careful.
“He petted Trixie,” you look up at Scott dumbfounded. “It was just for a little bit and then…”
“Audrey,” Scott warns, and you want to throw things at him, and scream. She did nothing wrong. She is the child, and he is the adult. “Come give me a hug. I need to finish talking to your mom," you let your chubby toddler waddle off to his daddy. And Audrey gives you a lingering look before grabbing her brother’s hand. Apologizing as she drags him to the play room.
“It wasn’t a big deal.”
“He’s allergic to cats.”
“I gave him a Benadryl. He’ll be fine.”
You hate him. It isn’t much to ask for Taylor not to be here. And for her not to bring her fucking cat. “And what happens if she feeds him something with eggs?” Scott looks at the counter, and you wonder if he ever regrets getting involved with her. He’s the type of man that will force something to work. Because you didn’t stand for cheating, so he didn’t have another option.
“What happens if she gives him walnuts? Or milk? Or…?”
“Or gives him shell fish? Or strawberries? Or pineapples? Or whatever made up bullshit you have for him. She’s a kid and doesn’t know how bad his allergies are.”
You stare at him, and let him think about his fucking words. Seething because he sure knows how to piss you off. This was a good day. You stared at Andy’s sleeping body for too long before you tiptoed around his bedroom. Having sex so many times exhausted him now. “You’re right, she’s a kid. And had no business being with you. But our son’s health is not made up. I held his body when the nurse pricked his skin forty times, and he was wailing in my arms, and not understanding why his mommy was forcing him to do this. Don’t tell me it’s fucking made up Scott. Get out.”
“I didn’t mean it like that.”
“Get out. Leave. I can’t even look at you. This isn’t the you I married. You would never put our children’s health at risk,” he continues to stand there. Opening his mouth a bit, but you’re tired. You’re sore. And all you want is to play with your children. “I don’t need you to ask me if I’m going to use this against you. Yes, when it comes to my children’s lives and their safety, you’re damn straight I will make sure my children are alive to see another day, and not because some tramp thinks Seude’s allergies aren’t that fucking serious. Get. Out.”
He bites his lip before spinning on his heels quickly. You watch him walk out of your house, and life again. Sniffling when you lock the door. You take a few deep breaths before you have to put on your mommy shoes. It isn’t easy being a mother. Especially a single mother. It’s not easy seeing the man that you built a life with walk away so callously. To see him building a life with someone younger. Someone who can give him what he wants.
Someone who didn’t spend months and months on fertility treatments that made her feel like her skin was crawling. Like her mind was shattered. Having to schedule sex, and hope and pray that it will work. All the useless damn pregnancy tests that were always negative. Stressed, and trying to be what he wanted, only to find him fucking the babysitter, while your children slept in the next room. And it was your fault you caught them, you got back home early.
Scott didn’t even begin to understand stress. He could never understand the ups and downs your mental state went through just trying to give him what he wanted. You had Audrey and Suede. One of each, you weren’t greedy. But everything you ever did was always for him. Put on a smile when you’re hurting so bad internally. Smiling to the neighbors because everything was perfect. And you had a perfect home, and inside you were screaming because that wasn’t happiness.
The only happiness you currently have is your kids. They’re enough. They’re the reason you wake up every morning, and take them to the nursery school. They’re the reason that you get excited that Audrey wears a little uniform now that she’s in Pre-K. They put a smile on your face everyday. And those hard days when they test your every patience, and you are the one that has to be the positive one and get them in the bed, but who takes care of you?
You wanted a family and a partner. Someone that would team up with you, and take some of this load off. Someone that could entertain the kids, while you had one hour to yourself, just so you can take a bath and read. You wanted someone you could trust to be around your kids, and you’re wondering where things went wrong with Scott. Yeah, you’re sure he was stressed, but what about your stress? You’re the one who didn’t even enjoy sex anymore because it was a chore. And you did it for him.
Gods, Andy wasn’t a chore. Minus the ache in your core, that you know is going to be there for awhile. Bruised, raw, stiff, sore, and stretched. He fucked you, and fucked you so hard and deep. But then — later in the night, he kissed you. He kissed you so hard that your body prepared for him in seconds. You craved him. But he didn’t fuck you. He pushed into your warmth so slow that you knew he was making sure your body memorized him. That wasn’t fucking. That was claiming. It was euphoric. It was making love, and hoping that his body can make you change your mind. He still wants you.
That is what you want with sex. Not to just lay there, and let them take what you want, while you count the cobwebs on the ceiling. But Andy didn’t deserve whatever is going on between you and Scott. Andy deserves the world. He always has.
It isn’t anything, really. Just the average separation, and fighting for custody that Scott didn’t deserve. But you want to be divorced. You want these conversations to be done with. You want him to man up, and just be the part time dad. It’s what he was anyways. But you made it clear that Andy had you for one night. And even now saying it out loud, you hate yourself. But it’s the right thing to do. Because had Andy been present for this, his usual calm and collected demeanor would have been tested.
“What are you two doing?” You jump around the door, and both kids squeal. Suede gives a few strides before he’s crashing into your legs. “Bubba, I think you’re going to have to get your nose cleaned out at bathtime.”
“Nope. Me pay Sis,” he hates getting his nose cleaned out, and you hate that he has done it enough to know what you’re talking about.
“Mommy, I didn’t mean to get daddy in trouble.”
“Shh,” you sit on the floor, and pull her close to you. Kissing on top of her head, and she fumbles around with her little figurines. “The important thing is you told mommy that Suede was around something that can make him sick. That’s called being a good big sister, okay?”
“You promise?”
“I do,” and you curse Scott for making her worry about a grown man. It was something Scott wouldn’t have told you. Bending the truth because Suede was fine. Audrey, your strong sweet girl, knew it was wrong, and knew it could make her brother sick.
“Can we go to soft play tonight?” You look at her confused. Scott said that he was going to take them there with Taylor. Since she was supposed to be here. “Daddy said that they were closed. Do you think they’re closed today?”
“No, baby. They’re not today,” you always had to go with Scott’s lies. Taylor never wanted to do ‘baby things’. You wondered how that was going to work when she had children of her own. “You think mommy can take a shower with the door open and you and Suede not get into trouble?”
“Can we get ice cream, too?” She gives you a devilish grin, and you nod your head with a smile. “Are you going to use your bathroom?”
“No, I’ll use yours. That way I can still hear you, if you need me,” Audrey isn’t dumb. She knows you’re lying. In reality you couldn’t use yours and Scott’s bathroom anymore. It had the beautiful tub that was part of the reason you and him decided on this house. You couldn’t even sleep in your bed. Not after they defiled it.
You knew that was the real reason, and still you made excuses as to why you slept on the couch. Your favorite was to make sure nobody came through the front door. Whatever lie helped you sleep at night. Maybe you should just give Scott the house. But it’s the principle of the matter that he used your children as leverage. You want him to pay, and you want him to be their father, you want them to have a good relationship with him and Taylor, and you want things to not be so fucking difficult. You never get what you want.
You remember the most beautiful parts of your marriage. Audrey in a world of her own, while Suede goes from watching her to rolling his cars around. They were your sanity. Your saving grace, and the only reasons you’ve survived thus far. Your thumb trails over your naked ring finger. You didn’t realize you would miss it so much. But was it the ring you missed or the husband you had? You can’t even think of Scott in the same way as before. He sullied your relationship and has proven too often that Taylor is more important than your everything’s.
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“So,” Sloane says as Andy walks past you and into Ransom’s office. You didn’t question why Andy needs to meet with him. It goes with the territory and the less you know the better off you are. “Big dick daddy doesn’t pay you any mind anymore?”
You choke on your coffee as you glance up at her. How the hell would she know about Andy’s dick or your involvement? “I mean, the man prances around the courthouse like he’s got a dick made out of lead. Acts like he owns the whole court system. And for a while, he always made a point to ask you for coffee, or dinner, or brought you pastries. What did you do?”
“Nothing,” you go back to your work. Sloane could be a nosy woman. Always digging for more information. And even now, she’s eyeing you like you’ve done something wrong.
“You when I think that things changed?”
“Nope,” you sigh, but she sure is going to tell you. Andy respected your wishes for just one night. But you hoped that he wouldn’t. And you know you’re acting silly. There was this part that is bigger than you really want to admit that hoped he wouldn’t give up on you. Because maybe once things are settled with Scott you might consider it.
“It might have something to do with his celebration of another year as District Attorney, and the two of you not so casually leave together. You kinda forgot your car here,” your fingers freeze, and you look up at her curiously. “You two left out the door together, and your car was here? Seriously?”
“I had a flat tire.”
“No, you didn’t,” there isn’t another way you can lie, so you just sit at your desk, staring at her. “So how was it? I’m assuming that you had sex. You’ve got kids, you’re not a virgin. So why not? Is he as big as people think?”
“People talk about his dick size?”
“Not just talk about his dick size, but have tried to break his impenetrable force field of his private life. And you come in here, and everyone is envious because he immediately showed interest in you. Why?” Her eyebrow cocks up, and she smiles. “Keep your secrets. Cause I know you fucked him, and I know now that he barely even looks at you. So either you told him how it was going to be, or…”
Her voice trails off as she walks away from your desk, “Or what?” That sounds ominous, and you didn’t want an or. You want to know that Andy doesn’t hate you. But what could make him hate you that much? The only thing would be, “Scott…”
“Stop moping,” Ransom rolls his eyes, but Andy is so far lost in thought it annoys Ransom. “You’ve been like this for a couple of weeks,” Andy ignores Ransom, stirring his coffee. “What’s wrong, your highness?”
“Your office manager.”
“Was the sex that bad?” Andy looks up at him confused. Scrunching up his brows, while he wonders when Ransom thinks he had sex with you. “You two weren’t subtle. She was all giggly, and you were dragging her out the door. Liquid courage I guess. Not to mention, Sloane said that her car was here once everyone left. Office hookups are severely frowned upon, but you needed laid. But I guess…it was bad.”
Andy shakes his head no. “And we had agreed on sex while she was sober,” you were sober. And cute. And flirty. And Andy was not going to miss an opportunity. Until he found out you are married.
“How romantic. Now, since the sex was good, let’s get to work.”
“She told me that I could only have her one night. We have a bit of a history, you see,” Ransom rolls his eyes, twirling his hand and motioning Andy to speed up the conversation. He didn’t care what kind of history you had. He just wants the conversation to end so he can get down to business. “She’s married.”
Ransom shakes his head no, and leans to reach in a bottom drawer of his desk. Grabbing up a file folder, he drops it on the desk in front of Andy, and he pulls it towards him. Opening up the folder, he reads through it, and looks at Ransom, holding his breath. “Yeah, that’s a petition for full custody of her kids from her wonderful estranged husband, Scott Huffman. Her working here wasn’t just because she needed a job. She actually went to college to be…”
“A CPA. I’m aware. We have a history.”
“And didn’t know about her legal separation?” Ransom is annoyed. Ransom hates getting off track. There is a schedule, and Andy isn’t sticking to it. “Her lawyer is one of the cheapest ones. She needs new representation, and for some godforsaken reason, I pity her. Scott doesn’t need his kids full time. He’s got him some blonde that’s too young for him, but he’s got the money. She was a stay at home mom, and she deserves her kids, so I’m trying to make that happen. And no, you cannot intervene. You actually met him didn’t you? Scott?”
“I’ve met him in court a few times.”
“That’s not what I mean, and you know it. Don’t get involved. She’s not married. Well, she’s legally separated. So if that’s what the issue is, get over it,” Ransom is sometimes way to blunt, but it’s the reason Andy admires him. His pension for being a spoiled brat helped him be a better ADA. “That fucker is still calling her his wife isn’t he?”
“Yeah. Men like him love to show that they still own her. Using her kids against her, no doubt. But,” Andy holds his hands up in surrender. He knows Ransom can see right through him concerning this situation. “I won’t interfere.”
“Was her pussy that good?”
“It was always that good, but it was never about the sex,” he meets his eyes before he closes the folder, and extends it to Ransom. He misjudged the situation. And then he probably has been making you feel like a wet hole by ignoring you these past couple of weeks. “God, I'm an idiot.”
”Yeah, now if you can stop ignoring her, and go back to your obvious shameless flirting. It sounds like the two of you, if you want a future, need to fucking talk. Just like we’re supposed to be doing.”
Ransom is right. About a lot of things. He pushes the urgent need to talk to you aside. He wants to apologize for ignoring you, and even the horrible things he thought. He wants to understand what really happened in your marriage, if you want to talk. He wants to let you know that you have a friend in him. Not just a sexual need. He cares about you. And knowing that a ruthless man is trying to get full custody of your children, sickens him. Scott worked too many hours to ever need those children.
But mostly, he wants to know the new you. The one you kept hidden, and the one that grew up and created a new life. He wants to know that you are okay. And that you have someone with a steady head to lean on. He wants you. He always has. And he’ll be whatever you need. If you’ll let him.
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napakmahal · 3 months
Text
Despite them being healed, Tadashi really hates his burn scars. They’re mostly on his back but he has them on his arms, the back of his neck close to his face, all over his hands, and the sides of his legs. They’re everywhere.
But he hates why he hates them more. He likes to pride himself on not being an insecure person and just accepting the things about him he cannot change, except the scars. They screwed him over so bad he was up at night staring at himself and crying about being ugly.
Everyone knew not to bring up his scars, it’s a sensitive topic. He would make jokes about them but even he wasn’t laughing at them. But if he didn’t laugh he’d cry.
You knew how he felt about them. He’d vent to you from time to time but then would brush it off by saying “but it’s okay, I’ll be okay.” He wasn’t and you knew that. But you also knew better than to push it.
Until you were spreading his prescription antibiotic cream on his back to keep his bigger scars from getting infected. He was quiet like usual whenever someone was touching them. But something felt off.
“Are you okay, love?” You finally asked gently pulling your fingers down his back.
You took your free hand and gently sweeper through his hair to reveal his face. He was crying. Small but rapid tears dribbled from his eyes while you rubbed his back.
“What’s wrong?”your voice was laced with concern. He sat up from laying down and brought his hand to his face and wiped the forever falling tears.
His voice cracked. “I don’t know, it’s just- I should be over it by now but-I”
“Breathe,” You cut his rambling off and pressed your hand to his chest. His heart was beating a million miles a minute. “Just breathe.”
He dropped his head into the crook of your neck and let out a pitiful sigh filled with heartbreak. “They’re so ugly.”
You kissed the side of his head and wrapped your arms around him carefully. “Oh loves, no.”
“I’m so ugly.” Now he was sobbing. “I know I’m not supposed to think that but I do. What I look like matters.”
You knew what he was talking about. The Lucky Cat Cafe is one filled with regulars that knew the Hamada’s extremely well. When Tadashi worked, they’d started treating him different. Either talking to him like he was a baby or keeping their conversations so quick so they wouldn’t have to be near him. Some disgusting customers would sometimes ask him to set their drinks down on the counter rather than hand it to them so they wouldn’t have to touch him. Tadashi wasn’t an idiot. People treated him differently because of what he looked like and he knew it.
“Beautiful boy,” you whispered into his ear while he was still crying. “You’re a beautiful boy. You’re so beautiful.”
“You’re just saying that cause you’re my girlfriend and you feel like you have to.” He finally said it out loud. The thought that you’d been staying with him just because you felt like you had to had finally been turned into words.
You could help but feel slightly offended by that but you knew he didn’t mean it like that. “Yeah I’m your girl, but I’m saying that because I’m an expert on just how beautiful you are. You’re so sweet and so handsome. If you weren’t I wouldn’t be here. Right?l”
He wiped his face and nodded in agreement with you.
Maybe the pure insecurity of his scars would never go away, maybe it would. But in time he’d learn to like himself— not love himself, like himself. And anyone who didn’t could take a hike off a short pier.
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