haitaniwhor3 - Tumblr blog

haitaniwhor3 · 1 year ago

Text

how to lose a guy in 10 days ⋆ portgas d. ace

synopsis: my own take on the rom com how to lose a guy in 10 days — reader takes tips from her unlucky in love friend vivi and must drive ace away in ten days for an article, whilst ace made a bet with his rival that he can make any girl fall in love with him in ten days for a marketing gig he’s determined to have.

content & warnings: female reader, black coded reader, she/her pronouns, not canon/modern au (but 2000s), some violence

author’s note: this is a reupload lawl

part one here

word count: 2.8k

The next morning at the office, Robin, Nami and Vivi were huddled around your desk as you described what happened after you went home.

“You are terrible.” Nami cackled as she hit your shoulder gently.

“This is a first, you feel bad for a guy?” You quipped as you raised a brow.

“I’d feel bad for anybody who is the lab rat for this experiment of yours.” She scoffed, as she rested her arms on the walls of your cubicle.

“It’s just a little fun. Anyways, Ace seems like the type of guy with a whole lobby of women waiting for him once this is over. He’ll be fine.” You stated as you turned back to your computer to continue the draft of the article.

“I don’t feel bad. He looks like trouble anyways.” Vivi said.

“I thought you found him cute!” You said, a little alarmed at her sudden change.

“I can find him cute and still tell he’s a menace. That smile of his, I know there have been women worse off than me than that night.” She shuddered as she clasped onto her own coffee mug.

You twisted your lips to the side.

“Ace doesn’t seem like the type of guy to maliciously hurt a person.” You contested.

“Look at you defending him off the bat! I thought he was merely a lab rat?” Robin snickered.

Your eyes widened when the realisation of what Robin said sunk in.

“Uh, no! I’m just saying!” You stuttered. You shook your head in an attempt to recompose yourself from her verbal ambush.

“Anyways…I planted a seed for number two on the list.” You said with a mischievous glint in your eye.

“You know I used to think Isuka hated my guts but she still has a soft spot for me.” Ace said, with a hearty laugh as he walked down the hallways of the office.

“What makes you say that?” Marco questioned.

“Out of all the women she coulda thrown at me, this one is amazing. Ten days with her will be like an hour.”

“Right…cos that’s only nine days longer than you’ve spent with any other woman, huh?”

“Why do you think I didn’t give her the good stuff immediately?”

“Gross..” Izou said, nose wrinkling in disgust.

“I’m taking my time. I got her on the ropes.” He said, triumphantly as he gestured to the handbag on his desk.

“Is that hers?” Marco asked, surveying the bag.

“Yup. She probably ran off head spinning. Told you the ladies can’t get enough.” He said as he put his arms behind his head and kicked a foot, accidentally knocking over the bag and causing it to spill over.

“Crap!” He squawked as he rushed over to pick up the scattered belongings. “Ah!” He cursed under his breath, seeing your things. “I feel like I’m looking at something I shouldn’t see.”

“Your fault for getting so cocky.” Izou snorted. “She has taste though. Saint Laurent? You got a classy woman for sure. But didn’t you say she’s pretty sharp? Maybe she left the handbag to secure a next-day callback.”

Izou’s words turned out as Marco and Ace’s eyes fixated on two shiny tickets on the floor.

“Guys…?” Izou called out.

“Knicks tickets…” Marco said, in awe.

“For TONIGHT’S game?!” Ace cried out, eyes glimmering.

The office seemed to be busier than usual today. You stood up from your chair to see what all the commotion was. It was dozens of deliverymen with vases of white roses.

“Yo, Y/N!” Nami called out from the staircase. “The delivery is for you!”

Your eyebrows knitted together in confusion.

“Huh?”

Vivi rushed to get a good look at the notes attached to the flowers.

“…One hundred times…more beautiful than one hundred roses…! Y/N, oh my god!” Vivi gushed.

“I take it he’s back in your good books.” Robin said to Vivi.

“You know me, I’m a romantic.” Vivi shrugged.

“The guy’s in advertising, Vivi.” You giggled as you surveyed the flowers. “Be more sharp.”

“What magic did you work on the guy? Huh?” Vivi responded.

“Oh please. This just means he found the tickets guys.” You said with a derisive snort.

The phone on your desk began to ring. Speak of the devil.

“Hey gorgeous girl, you get my gift?” A familiar voice chimed at the end of the line.

“Yup. Thank you for the public humiliation.” You giggled.

“My speciality. You left your purse at my place.”

“Wow, silly me. I’m such an idiot!” You said, voice saccharinely sweet.

“Ah, don’t say that doll-face! I’m sure you’re missing your lip gloss…your purse and Knick’s tickets!” He said smoothly, causing you to mouth tickets at Robin and Vivi.

“Sounds like you’ve been rummaging through my purse, Freckles. That doesn’t seem very gentlemanly of you~” You singsonged.

“You know I don’t remember considering myself a gentleman. I see myself as more of a wild one.” He shrugged. “So, I’ll barter. You want the purse back? Give me the ticket.”

“Is that blackmail?” You scoffed.

“Maybe.” He grinned.

“Well, I do need my handbag.”

“Yeah, my buddy here says you dropped big bucks.” He said, absentmindedly twirling the phone cord around his finger.

“Your buddy is Joan Rivers?”

“Yeah but hot, so? What do you say doll-face? Cut me some slack!”

“Meet me at the seventh avenue entrance, mkay? 7:30 sharp. You be tardy and I’m selling it.” You warned.

“I’ll be there with bells on.”

“Bye Freckles.”

“Take care, doll-face!”

“And that’s how it’s done!” You both said simultaneously to your co-workers.

Number 2:

Interrupt his beloved sports — If you’re dating a guy that’s super into sports whether that's soccer, football or basketball, a way to get under his skin is to interfere with it. Constantly interrupting when he is in the middle of surveying the game is a surefire way to drive him up the wall.

It was a few minutes into the game. The atmosphere was lively, it was a ball game of course. The air was crackling with anticipation and excitement as both crowds cheered and clapped for their teams.

You were a little overwhelmed, with all the sensory overload. The announcer over the loudspeaker, all the swearing and crude language.

The Knicks seemed to be down a few points which caused some frustration from your side but there was always hope that they’d get back on track.

The whistle blew, and the teams began to disperse onto the sidelines.

Kiss Me by Sixpence None the Richer filled the stadium which caused the audience to start cheering. The jumbotron settled on a few couples, an elderly couple which earned some oohing and awing.

You immediately froze when you noticed you and Ace on the screen. Since you weren’t playing tonsil tennis straight away, there was some jeering and taunting.

“You good?” He asked, with a hint of concern. You blinked rapidly, feeling some frustration build up. This is why you hated sports events.

You balled up your first in an attempt to ground yourself and smiled at him.

“Yep. You can kiss me.” You said, tone giving away you were uncomfortable.

Ace arched a brow at you.

“You’re the boss.” He snickered.

He reached out to cradle the side of your face to kiss you, your stomach twisted in case he was going to kiss you roughly but as he leaned in, his lips barely grazed the side of your mouth.

The crowd started groaning in disappointment.

“Ah, what?”

“Poor guy stuck with a frigid bitch like that.” A guy from the back called out to his friend.

Your eyes blew wide open.

“What the hell is your problem, you jackass?!” You barked, whipping your head around to face the guy.

Ace seemed dangerously quiet.

After a few minutes, he stood up from the seat, placing his hand on the armchair and leaning in close to your ear, warm breath tickling the shell.

“I’m just gonna get a drink, okay?”

“…Sure.” You said, a little miffed.

Minutes passed, and you were a little shocked that Ace was gone for so long. He seemed so adamant about tagging along, it was confusing why he would miss out on the game.

Your ears picked up on a commotion from the hallways and some people were beginning to leave their seats to spectate the ruckus.

You tugged on a random passerby’s sleeve to garner their attention.

“What’s going on?” You questioned.

“Some dudes are brawling outside the snack cart.” The person responded, gleefully. “Apparently the guy called his girlfriend names!”

You ripped your hand away from the person and began to bound towards the scene.

“…Ace!” Your mind was in complete overdrive.

You pushed through the crowds, which earned swearing but you didn’t care. And there it was, Ace pummelling the hell out of the same guy who had called you a frigid bitch earlier on.

Your stomach dropped and your feet were glued to the ground. You couldn’t move. Your heart was racing so fast you thought it was going to explode.

People jostled past you to get a full view of the fight until somebody said something about calling the cops and the arena’s staff were rushing to break it up.

That man was at least twice Ace’s size, with a brawny build.

Your hand flew over your mouth when you registered what exactly was taking place. The Ace in front of you was not the same guy you met that night or even the same guy you arrived at the game with.

The way every blow landed with sickening sounds of flesh and grunts it solidified that for sure.

You felt yourself being shoved once more when the cops finally arrived and they struggles to pry Ace off of the man.

Things were a blur, but as you sat in the station your mind was going at insane speeds.

You were planning on making Ace get up out of his seat to get you snacks regardless. And maybe keep asking for different drinks.

Now you felt awful for even cooking that up while he’s sat in a holding cell.

He joked he was a wild boy but it was a little insane that he held his own against such a mountain of a man, with a hulking frame.

The doors opened and there was Ace, rubbing his sore wrists and lightening up when his eyes settled on you.

“Hey, doll-face! Hope I didn’t scare you too much.” He said as he draped an arm around you and pulled you close to his side.

His lip was split and his knuckles were a mixture of purple and red with stained blood.

“…Why’d they let you go? I thought you dislocated his jaw.” You asked, meekly.

“Yeah, but the asshole decided not to press charges. I still got hit with a disorderly conduct charge though.” He chuckled as he rubbed the nape of his neck.

“I’m sorry..” You mumbled.

“Why are you apologising?” He asked, gently as his eyebrows knitted together.

“None of this woulda happened if I just made out with you.” You said head hung low.

You felt him take your chin between his forefinger and thumb.

“…Y/N, don’t ever apologise for not wanting to do something that makes you uncomfortable. The only person who should be feelin’ sorry is that jackass and he’ll be eating baby food for the next few months.”

God, he was dark.

It made you snicker all the same.

“I ruined our date.” You sighed.

“You didn’t ruin anything, you knucklehead. If anything we made a night to remember, huh?” He grinned.

It was odd. As the two of you walked down the pavement, you thought about it. You were going to ruin the night for him but it seemed like he cared about you.

“…Ace.”

“Yeah, pretty girl?”

“If you were gonna fight him, why didn’t you do it there?” You chuckled.

“Hmm…cos I didn’t wanna get you mixed up in my business. Plus it woulda been pretty awkward if I lost in front of you.” He responded.

“I have a feeling you knew you weren’t gonna lose, Freckles.” You giggled, feeling as if you were slowly returning to yourself.

“Am I gonna get a house tour?” He asked, hopefully as he had his hands in his pockets.

“In your dreams, muchacho. I think I’ve had enough excitement for one night.”

“I guess you’re right, doll-face. Go head in the building, I’ll be on my way when you’re out of sight.” He said.

You swallowed a little thickly, then took a few steps forward towards him. You slid a hand on the nape of his neck as you gently crushed your lips against him.

As you pulled away, and rested your forehead against his own he gave you a wolfish grin.

“I guess I gotta get into brawls more often, eh?”

“Ace. I swear to God.” You said, with an edge to your voice which just made him chuckle more.

“Alright, alright. I’m on my best behaviour.” He said. He stole your lips again and seemed to want to get a little heated but it backfired on him.

“Ow, ow, ow!” He cried out, then gently massaged his split lip.

“Serves you right.” You snorted.

“Worth it.”

Number 3: Call like crazy — Nobody and I mean nobody likes a clingy girl. Only call if necessary!

“So if we look at the projections of the sales this month, we can see-” Isuka trailed off and all eyes in the boardroom fixated on Ace when his phone began to blare out.

His eyes widened because he didn’t remember expecting any phone calls.

“…Sorry, it’s Y/N.” He said, sheepishly as he looked at Newgate. He put his phone underneath the desk and tried to hang up.

“Sorry, Isuka.” He said apologetically, with a hand gesture. She rolled her eyes.

“So as I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted…sales are-”

The door swung open and Newgate’s secretary held a phone.

“Hi, I’m sorry to bother this meeting. There is an urgent phone call for Ace?” She said.

“…Who is it?” Ace asked.

“Umm, she says you will know.” She said, as she gingerly handed the phone towards Ace.

“…Hi doll-face,” Ace answered in a pained tone.

You were on the rooftop of Sleek’s building with Vivi and Nami by your side, they were giggling at the prospect and it felt like the three of you were middle schoolers at a sleepover.

“Hi, Pookie! I missed my sugar plum so so so much! Are you alright after last night, I totally forgot I should’ve kissed your booboos all better!” You said in a baby voice down the phone line as Nami and Vivi were rolling around in hysterics. It was taking everything within you not to start laughing.

The entirety of the boardroom, from Marco, Izou, Kujaku and Isaku tried their best not to start howling like hyenas.

“…Sugar plum?” Marco repeated.

“Boo, boos?!” Kujaku whisper shouted.

“Uh…honey I can’t really talk right now. It’s fine…I’m fine.” Ace said, shoulders hunched over and casting a downward gaze since he was too humiliated to make eye contact with everybody else. His cheeks were flushed red.

“Okay, my Acey Wacey. I love you so so so much..!” You said then made obnoxiously loud kissing noises into the phone.

He had no idea what got into you. If this was under regular circumstances, he would’ve hung up and ghosted you completely.

But he needed to keep you around, even if it meant at the cost of his reputation at work and self-esteem.

“…Love you too.” He said through gritted teeth and you hung up the phone.

The three of you erupted into boisterous laughter, tears streaming down your cheeks and clutching at your sides.

“You are going to HELL.” Nami cried out, her cheeks flushed.

“Oh well. I’ll drag Acey Wacey with me.” You responded which reignited the laughter once again.

“I can never show my face to Pops again.” Ace said as he sat in the corner of his shared office with Marco and Izou, grasping the roots of his hair.

“I thought you said Y/N was normal.” Marco asked, taken aback at that phone call.

“She was! Everything was fine, I have no clue what happened?!” Ace cried out, mouth agape.

“You made her the damsel in distress, that’s what happened.” Izou snorted.

“Oh please. Like that woulda made a difference.”

“No, I think he’s onto something Ace! Of course, a girl would go all crazy if a guy broke somebody’s face for their honour or whatever,” Marco said, clicking his fingers.

“Well, I’m inviting her over again. I can’t even chew her out the way I want to.” He muttered.

“Just eight more days, pal.” Marco said as he patted Ace’s shoulder.

“What’s the end game, Y/N?” Vivi questioned as you headed back downstairs.

“Hm?”

“Well, you said he’s all sweet and he kinda seems like a keeper. Why drive him off?” She shrugged.

You gnawed your lip a little.

“I’m not really sure, Vivi. But this article comes first. Freckles is just another guy as far as I’m concerned.”

“Whatever you say.” Vivi snorted, unbelieving.

You weren’t sure you believed what came out of your mouth either.

author’s note: if u read this far ty so much 🥺🫶🏽 pls reblog or interact if u enjoyed it much love ehehe. i forgot how hard series are for me personally. also i’m watching impel down arc atm and i’m getting attached to his ass all over again ☠️

209 notes · View notes

haitaniwhor3 · 2 years ago

Note

hi bae, just wanted to say i’m writing a kenji kishimoto blurb/fic rn and i’d love for you to read it when it comes out! ITS ADORABLE I PROMISE. mwah, ruby xo

oh my goshhh I'd love to 💗💗💗 tag me when ur done luv

2 notes · View notes

haitaniwhor3 · 2 years ago

Text

OH MY GODDD I CAN'T WAITTTTTT

to the great authors of tumblr

here is me at your feet begging you to write more kenji kishimoto x reader fics

he's such an icon and tbh deserves so many fics about him

and yes x reader because I'm touch starved and I would like to imagine myself with them 😭😭

*cough* don't be shy to make it steamy too 🤝😌

119 notes · View notes

haitaniwhor3 · 2 years ago

Text

★ Masterlist ★

Trending Now! Beloved, international pop sensation was spotted getting hot and heavy with the lead vocalist of Devil's Paradise, Eren Jaeger, at an after-party, sparking rumors of a secret fling. The unlikely couple has yet to comment publicly on the status of their relationship, but their scandal-worthy PDA alone implies they must know each other very well.

Ha! That couldn’t be any further from the truth.

♡ Pairing: rockstar!eren jaeger x popstar!female reader, eren jaeger x historia reiss ♡ Content: a fun, cheesy enemies-to-lovers tale that's sure to include some of those classic tropes we all know and love. modern/fame au, fake relationship, jealousy, explicit sexual content, explicit language, frequent alcohol use. each chapter will include applicable content warnings. reader discretion is advised. 18+

If you'd like to be tagged, please leave a comment. This will be my first time trying out a tag list, so please be patient with me ♡

892 notes · View notes

haitaniwhor3 · 2 years ago

Text

MASTERLIST:

jojo’s bizarre adventure:

thorns ⋆ caesar zeppeli

part one

part two

a week away ⋆ kishibe rohan

part one

part two

attack on titan:

state of dreaming ⋆ jean kirstein

part one

one piece:

after tonight ⋆ aokiji

how to lose a guy in ten days ⋆ portgas d. ace

part one

part two

bleach:

take care ⋆ shuhei hisagi

sweetest ⋆ kaname tosen

record of ragnarok:

summer breeze ⋆ rudra

111 notes · View notes

haitaniwhor3 · 2 years ago

Text

properly together | ran haitani x reader

tw: friends with benefits, implied cheating, implied underage illegal activities (lol), unestablished relationship (obviously) aaand that's it i think | if i missed something and it's worth mentioning here please do tell me.

wc: 6818

The windowsill in the boys’ bedroom of Haitani’s apartment is wide enough to fit three people and for that you are very grateful.

The room is dark. The only light here is the streetlamp and that of the lit cigarette. Ran’s “Hero” smells bitter and they taste even worse. You wish he had bought menthol “Seven Stars”, but he said there were none of those in the vending machine and he was too tired to go somewhere else. You pout and he laughs, but you know that it’s the thought that matters and so you smoke “Hero”. The three of you share it together.

It’s not really the smoking that you like. Quite the opposite. It’s the atmosphere that covers the entire world when Ran fishes out a pack out of his sweats, jeans or a cupboard. It’s the way he is the first one to light it and then he always gives it to Rindou - ladies first rule doesn’t work here - and only then it’s yours. Usually it already has a sweet taste to it. Of energy drink and something else that you can’t quite tell. You don’t mind it. And they don’t mind a stain of lipstick or gloss on it.

You think, it only adds to experience.

One after one, you smoke the whole pack. It’s a long night and neither of you wants to go to bed just yet. Ran had a bad day. He didn’t tell you that, but his body is tense as he lays between your legs, his back on your chest, and you can see how Rindou eyes him every now and then. Maybe something went shitty on the streets. It always does. Or maybe he had an argument with his mother again. They always have something to quarrel about. His way of living or her morals.

You don’t pry though as prying never works with Ran. It only gets him angry.

“Do you think we’ll miss this time when we get older?” It’s Rindou. The dawn won’t come if he hasn’t asked or said something pretentiously deep. Despite the teasing and snorting he gets from you and Ran, you genuinely love his questions. They make you think. “I mean. We won’t be sixteen. Like ever again. And I can’t imagine us sitting here in our thirties. Sharing a whole pack of cigarettes. That’s what teenagers do.”

Ran’s lips quiver and not from crying. With half-closed sleepy eyes he looks at his younger brother as if he is the dumbest person alive. You can’t see Ran’s face, but by the immediately offended look on Rindou’s, you can imagine it well.

“You wouldn’t understand.” Rindou mutters, snatching a last cigarette out of Ran’s fingers. He gives it away easily. He laughs.

“You are dumb. Why wouldn’t we be able to sit on the fucking windowsill and smoke some dumb cigarettes? Who’s gonna tell us no? They tell us no now and we are still doing it. So I don’t see why you are being sappy.” Ran raises his head that lays on your shoulder and tilts it to the side so he can see your face. “What do you think?”

The words are dead on your tongue. You don’t really know what to say or better how to phrase what you want to say. Everything seems not quite right. You blame the time and the fog of cigarettes that is overflowing your brain. You shouldn't smoke that much.

The expectant look on Rindou’s face is what gets you talking and taking his side. If Ran is your best friend, Rindou is your soulmate. You love him a little more. “I do get you. It’s like we can’t ever get back to this. We might do whatever we want later, but this is not going to happen ever again. I think it’s sad too. I’ll miss these times.”

“You are silly. When we get older I’ll be hella rich. I’ll buy us a penthouse and we’ll smoke the whole day by the open window if we want.” Ran’s hand reaches out for the cigarette and Rindou obediently gives it to him. Before he brings it to his mouth and finishes it off, he lets you take the last drag for this night. “I bet we also will smoke something better than this crap.”

“There’s no windows in penthouses, dumbass. You can’t open them.”

They bicker for some time and you tune out of it, appreciating the raw beauty of the moment instead. It’s summer and you don’t have school tomorrow and Ran promised he will take you to the party this weekend with him. And Rindou promised you will go to Kujukurihama beach to swim and sunbathe and if some of your female friends come too or covers for you, you can even stay overnight there. [You believe it’s stupid of your parents to tolerate your sleepovers at Haitani’s all the time, or rather they know you are here, but you tell them you aren’t and they are forced to believe you and you are also living on the same street which is another factor for them worrying much less. Still, you think it’s stupid. Not that you can do anything about it, either way.] And this summer is full of promises that are so basic for the people your age, it finally feels normal.

Because before that was juvie and you were waiting for your best friends to get released. And after that was a lot of gangs and street fights and Ran dropping out of school with Rindou following him and them - but mostly Ran - trying to sustain the remains of their family. Their mom, a drinking shadow of what she once was. Their father, long forgotten. We are just kids, you think, and there’s a possibility they won’t even make it to their mid-twenties. What about the penthouse and windowsill and sharing a pack of cigarettes? What about it then?

“What’s wrong?” Ran’s face is millimetres from yours. His body is a dead weight on you, pinning you down. You shove him in the shoulder as a signal to get off you, but he doesn’t get the memo. He presses his lips to your forehead. “I think you need to go to bed. You are tired.”

Behind Ran’s back you can hear rustling of clothes and a small masked yawn which sounds more like a knowing sigh. Rindou’s feet spank the wooden floor and he winces. His legs are probably numb from sitting in a crumpled position for so long. He kisses your cheek goodnight. “Where are you sleeping today?”

“Auntie said I can take the couch.”

“Nah. Stay here. I’ll sleep there. You and Ran won’t wake up before noon anyways.”

You want to stop him and say that he shouldn’t and that you all know you won’t really sleep in Rindou’s bed, but in Ran’s, because that’s what you’ve been doing for the last year and a little before that too. You want to catch Rindou’s wrist and stop him and tell him that you have no idea how it happened and why. That it has no meaning. That it’s just you and Ran comforting each other in a way no one ever can comfort either of you. Not even him. Their brother and a best friend. The soulmate.

And so you let him go and he slips out of the room, winking at you before he closes the door. You think that he might do it for himself too, because it’s awkward listening to your and Ran’s whimpers, grunts, small giggles and moonlight promises that mean nothing in the light of the day. You think that’s the main reason. There’s no way Rindou doesn’t know.

It’s silent for a while. Ran’s laying on his side, his head on your chest and arms around your waist. You are afraid he’s fallen asleep. If he is there’ll be no way you could wake him up and be doomed to sleep on the windowsill with his weight stealing your every other breath away.

There’s only one way to know.

Gently you brush the long hair away from his face. You tuck them around his ear. A blonde strand, his natural hair colour that you love so much, gets caught in his earring. It’s a new one. The one he bought because the stripe on it was a purple colour. No way he wouldn’t have an earring that matches his eyes. “So. Wanna tell me what’s wrong?” He asks, opening his eyes. He grimaces when you tug on his hair a bit.

“Should I take it off?” You are referring to the earring and when he nods a ‘yes’ you quickly work out the lock. It’s harder than you thought so it takes you a while. He patiently waits for you to be done.

When you don't speak he chuckles and you feel his smile on your skin, through the old worn out T-shirt you are wearing. “Was it your way to change the topic?”

“Not really. No.” You shrug, finally done with his earring. You take it in your palm, caging it inside, so it won’t fall. “I mean I was thinking about what Rindou said and then I think I got overwhelmed. That’s it. Do you want to tell me what was bothering you? Another gang issue I won’t understand?” There’s much more to that simple “overwhelmed’. He’s well aware of that, but he also knows that you aren’t explaining it further for his sake.

Because you don’t want to guilt trip him.

Because you don’t believe he is to blame for anything that happened and will most definitely happen again.

Because you don’t see him the way most people see him.

Because you care.

Because you love him in whatever way it is that you do. He’ll accept it.

He accepts it then and reaches out to kiss you on this little spot under your jaw.

“Not because you won’t understand, but because I don’t want you to think about it. Don’t want you to worry about me and Rin. We’ll be fine.” At this moment you are the same. You smile at him and hook your hands under his arms, bringing him closer to you, hugging him. Kissing his soft hair. “Get in bed. Let’s fall asleep while it’s still dark.”

That night you don’t do anything besides sharing lazy sloppy kisses where he says i swear it’s the last one and then it never is and he steals another one and another one and another one. You giggle into his mouth and he smiles and you never want this to end, because you after all understand Rindou.

You’ll never be sixteen again. ***

The first time it happens Rindou is not around. He’s out on his very first serious date. He didn't tell you it was serious, but he asked for Ran’s black turtleneck, polished his motorcycle and before hopping on it checked his wallet to make sure he got enough money. He told you not to wait for him and Ran shrugged saying you guys weren't going to. He was too quick to speak though because you were ecstatic to learn how it all went and what they did. In all your fifteen years you’ve never been on a date once.

The evening was supposed to be spent quietly. You threw a small dinner from whatever leftovers they had in their fridge. Ran was talking the whole time. He was in those rare moods of his where he would tell you about what the gang were up to.

Nor he nor Rindou would particularly go into details with you around. Yes, you knew some of their friends. Yes, you sometimes hang out with them. But that’s it. You knew almost nothing about their activities. And all you knew were not coming from their mouths.

It was when you munched on oyakodon with his strangely sober mother that got home from another date just in time for food, the doorbell rang. You couldn’t see who it was and Ran didn’t let the person come in. He sprinted upstairs, came back dressed in his gang uniform and ignored his mother telling you to wait for him to come back. He promised not to be long.

And just like that he was gone.

You looked at his bowl with food. It was half-empty. Your heart sank. As if it would make him return you stared at the door, but it wouldn’t be opened until well into the night. You of course couldn’t know that.

“Do you think I can have it?” His mother, sometimes a stranger in her own house, brought the bowl closer to her, inspecting it. “Oh. That boy. He ate all the chicken. He was always like that. Eating what he liked first. You know, I…”

Her words fell dead on your ears. You didn’t listen to her, but that small, not remarkable in any way fact, that he ate chicken and left only rice brought you enough comfort to not obsessively think about his whereabouts for the next few hours.

When Ran shows up, his eyebrow bloody and split, he finds you on the couch with a book in your hands. Before you close the book he sees the cute cat on its cover and reads the name of the author and title of the book. “I am a cat” by Soseki Natsume. He wonders if you brought the book along with you or stole it from his mother’s bedroom. Back in the days she used to read a lot. Just like you.

“Ran…” You start, standing up from the couch. Your voice is small and you sound like you are sorry, but he has no idea why you should be. “Let’s get you to the bathroom. Are you hurt or…?”

He interrupts you, wrapping his arms around your shoulders and falling with you to the couch. He takes a deep breath. “I am just tired. That’s all. Let’s sit here a bit.”

“Okay. If that’s what you want. If that will make you feel better.”

He hums and closes his eyes, absorbing the calm air of the house and your body warmth. His ears are ringing. He still hears shouting and he so desperately wants it to stop he is ready to do anything. But the voices won’t leave him alone until a certain time passes. He knows that well. He’s been there before.

“Ran?” You raise your head to look at him and all you see is blood and drained beauty. He is in pain. You can tell that much. You can feel that much. Your hand reaches out to his face and soon your fingertips are red with his blood, but the voices in his head have stopped and he flashes his eyes open, staring at you in confusion. “I am sorry. I know you don’t really like it when someone touches your face. You just looked so uncomfortable I thought I could make it better. I made sandwiches for you and Rindou. He isn’t home yet, though.”

You are spurting out nonsense and Ran hopes it’s not because you are afraid of him or because you think he might get angry because you touched him. He dreads the reason so he allows you to talk to your heart's content and you don’t stop for a very long time. Not until you notice his soft gaze and small quite smile.

“What is it?” You ask as if you weren’t throwing a word after word at him that barely made any sense.

He doesn’t reply. There’s no need and there’s no answer. He leans in and pecks your lips. It’s gentle at first. Barely there. Somehow, he isn’t afraid or nervous. Somehow, you are the same. But everything seems so achingly right, you kiss him back and it’s a mess of teeth and tongue and he knows he’s the first man you’ve ever kissed and therefore he is patient with you. And he is careful. And when his hands dip down to fondle your breasts and then inside your panties to play with you, he is considerate enough to ask you if you really want to do it with him. If you don’t it won’t change a thing between us.

Ran takes you right there on the couch and then he takes you to the shower where he licks every sore part of your body under falling warm water.

It’s in his bed between the kisses when he tells you. “When I wake up, you'd better be here. I won’t regret this and I don’t want you to either. Ever. We are still best friends. We always will be. Right?”

“Right.”

Right. Right. Right.

***

The first big fight with Ran or as he would later say a simple misunderstanding happens a week after your seventeenth birthday.

As usual you spend it with your close family and friends of your parents who they invited over to your house for dinner. It’s not really that big of a celebration and there’s less than ten people in all, yet, as a centre of attention it feels as if you are some sort of relique everyone is praying to. You don’t despise it, but at the end of the table there’s Rindou who coughs every time someone says something that only adults in their mid-thirties say in a proud voice as if they just discovered how to eliminate everything evil on this planet. And then, of course, there’s this certain evil that stares at you the entire day since they got there.

You try your best to not get caught in him and everything he is. However, it’s too tempting and you look at him as he tilts his head and mouths a small what. You frown and his lips quiver in a smile. With his hair down, he looks exceptionally handsome today. You are almost not mad at yourself for sparing him attention.

Your unnoticeable to anyone - or so you think - exchange is cut short when your father’s best friend asks you if you have a boyfriend, because, of course, he is sure that you do, since you are so beautiful and extremely smart. And if not a boyfriend, maybe you do have someone you like? The timing is divine, you think.

“No. Not really.” You say and Ran’s gaze makes you burn.

The dinner carries on till the end calmly.

It’s when the three of you join your friend to celebrate you in a proper way that things take an ugly turn. Ran’s first thought is that you are a liar, because no way this boy, your so-said friend from school, doesn't like you. No way you don’t notice it. His heart is fast to assume and his brain is a little bit slower to stop him.

The whole night he doesn’t speak to you. His downturned eyes narrowed watching your every movement. The way you laugh with the boy and how you touch his arm so gently and how he whispers something into your ear and you nod. So happy and so content.

Ran fucking hates it. He hates the guy and the rest of the night is spent trying to prove it.

Too caught up in mutual joy you don’t pay attention to his mood swings. It’s Ran. He’s always been like this. He never liked your friends and he never tried to befriend them. [For that there was Rindou.]

Before four in the morning Ran disappears. He takes a call, makes sure you’ve heard that it was from a girl, and never returns. You and Rindou go back home alone. He stays over at your house. Your parents laying out a mattress in your room. It has two pillows and two blankets, but Ran obviously won’t need any today. The sight of it fills Rindou with unbearable sadness.

For the next five days Ran avoids you as best as he can and when you come to his house to confront him about it and about his rude behaviour at your birthday party, like what do you have against Kage he didn’t do anything wrong, the switch inside him breaks and he goes insane. Not only you are on a first name basis with that boy, you also came here, to Ran’s house, to defend him. Ran’s mouth tastes bitter and the words that he spits at you are bitter too.

“So fucking desperate for someone to fuck you.” It would be easier if he was screaming. If he would let his rage run wild, but he doesn't. He speaks through gritted teeth and for the first time ever you are genuinely scared of him. You wonder if that’s what he looks like in fighting. Calm, collected and so intimidating. There’s something eerie about this new Ran you are seeing before you. You step back as he comes closer. “You are always like this. Always willing to hand your body to anyone who would have you.”

On the stairways to the second floor is his mother sitting with a bottle of cheap wine. Today is a bad day because she is drinking it straight from the bottle. The corners of her lips twitch as she watches the drama unfolding before her feet. It’s unclear what she is really thinking and if she’s thinking at all. Her eyes are cloudy and there’s tears in their corners. Rindou who’s in the room too is afraid Ran might snap at her.

He tries to intervene. “Ran. You better stop it right now.”

“Really? Defending her? Did she let you hit too?” He turns to his brother, sees his calm, serious expression and doesn’t like it. Doesn’t like it one bit. So he returns back to you, because looking at you upset hurts him better than anything else can. “One Haitani isn’t enough for us anymore? Need two? That’s why you were so loose the other day. I couldn’t even…”

When Rindou takes off his glasses you panic. They’ve never physically fought before and you don’t want them to breach this small achievement. If they lay a hand on each other it would alter their relationship forever.

You don’t want that.

Not over something so stupid.

Not over you.

You try to slide in between them - because you know neither of them would willingly hurt you; not even Ran in his present state - but Rindou grips your arm and puts you behind him. He’s grown taller over the last few years and his shoulders are insanely broad. And despite him being shorter than Ran he looks massive and more developed. Still, you have a feeling if they do fight he won’t win. It’s a shameful thought, but it’s there and you can’t brush it aside. So you plead. Once again.

“Rindou please. I don’t care. I’ll leave.” The desperate tone to your voice and the tears that can be heard in it as well don’t work on Rindou as you might have thought it would. He gets angry. He pushes Ran, his large palms coming in contact with Ran’s grey sweatshirt and Ran stumbles, taking a step back. The next punch is landing on Ran’s face and you swear you can hear the skin being torn open. You see the red blood gushing out blotching Ran’s fair skin and you sob.

Your first instinct is to rush out to him and treat his wound, unafraid of the dirt and spears he smudged across your heart earlier, but you don’t move. You accept Ran’s anger and you accept Rindou’s anger as well, and you bleed open, your cuts invisible, until the muddy clammy blood forms puddles around you and you are in them, suffocating.

“Get the fuck out of here, Ran.” Rindou says, his breath uneven, when Ran doesn’t strike back. “Go get some fresh air. I don’t fucking know. Just go the fuck away.”

As Ran leaves, their mother laughs. She says you chose the wrong Haitani, not knowing that there was never a choice.

You spend the night on the couch talking with Rindou. You both cook a simple meal to lose yourself in the simplicity of routine and then steal a cheap alcohol from his mother’s cupboard. You both doubt she would even notice. That night you confess to Rindou about everything and he listens calmly. Half he knew, half was just revealed. He doesn’t comment on your special relationship with his brother. He wouldn’t dare. The only thing he says is that he always knew it would end up like this. You and Ran and the absurdity that you both are. He doesn’t understand it and he probably never will. He just hopes the three of you will make it to that promised penthouse. To a better life. Together.

“Are you gonna wait for him?” Rindou yawns, stretching his hands as he stands up from the couch. “If you want, you can sleep in my bed today. I can crash here.”

“It’s okay, Rin. You don’t have to.”

He nods. There’s no point in arguing with you and he’s too tired to do so anyway. Before he goes to sleep he brings you a blanket and a pillow. As to say he doubts Ran would return today.

But he does. He does return when the night turns blue. You sit on the couch wrapped in a blanket and stare at the ceiling. Your eyes are glossy and your brain hurts from the crying so much, you can feel it pulsating. You don’t react when he opens the door and you don’t when he quietly closes it behind him. He sees you immediately and he sighs, his lips parted. Ran hoped you would be asleep when he’s back. It’s not that he didn’t want to see you. He just wasn’t ready to have a talk with you when the worms of guilt still eat him alive.

Of course, he can go upstairs and not say a word to you. Ignore you. He’s not going to lie. He’s still mad at you. Still mad at you being all over that guy [you weren’t really] and still mad that you don’t see it as something he could be upset over. But he is also mad at himself. And the relationship he has with himself is even more painful and messier than the one he has with you. So he takes off his shoes and with a conbini bag in hands walks towards the couch, where he sits next to you.

There’s a distance between the two of you and neither wants to be the one to rupture it. The guilt that didn’t let him abandon you a few minutes before now won’t let him speak.

“Ran…” You start and your voice in the empty house, with two people asleep and two awake, sounds too cold. He rolls his head on the couch headrest and looks at you. “I never wanted you to feel upset about my birthday party and I never would do something intentionally with the other guy when you are around. I know that what we have is not exclusive and we both can do whatever we want, but I’ve never been with other people besides you yet. And I don’t want you to feel bad about it, because I know that you have and I…”

“Come here.” He interrupts you mid-sentence, because what you just said hurt him more than all the punches and wounds he has received in his life and he doesn’t know how to cope with this pain if he doesn't have you everywhere around him.

You let him take your hands and tug you toward him, and by the way he spreads his legs you understand he wants you in his lap. You throw one leg over his hips and settle down, straddling him. Usually it would work him up in seconds, but today, right now, there’s nothing sexual about it. It’s sadness all around you.

“I am sorry. Look me in the face, please.” Your hands are now in his and he keeps them locked, intertwined together, near your belly. “I am really sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything of what I said. I don’t think about you that way. You are the most precious pure thing in my life and what I said was not about you. It was about me. Oh, please. Don’t cry. Don’t cry.”

There’s panic in his eyes as you tremble, crying silently, and he doesn’t know what to do. How to stop you from whatever nasty emotion he planted in you today. He kisses the corners of your lips and nudges your cheek with his nose. He cradles your face and his thumbs smoothes your eyebrows. He holds you so close to him and whispers sweet nothings along with earnest sorries. And he is so tender, so soft, so young at this moment you forgive him everything. You realise you have long before he even did something wrong.

“I brought you strawberry sando.” He whispers in the crook of your neck. You sniffle, your fingers in the web of his long long hair. “Do you wanna share?”

“Always.” Always, if it’s with you.

***

His first girlfriend doesn’t change anything and neither does your first boyfriend and all the girls and guys you both date after.

You still kiss every given chance, you still have sex and you still run to each other if something goes slightly wrong.

Bad argument with parents? Ran’s arms.

Lost fight? Your bed.

Failed exam? A long make out session.

Can’t come to a decision about something? A good head would solve all the problems.

Your last guy dumped you? He wasn’t worthy of you anyway. He wasn’t the one, I swear.

It’s an irony in itself. It isn't healthy and Rindou is the one constantly pointing it out. To you. He wouldn’t say anything to Ran about it. For he gets very defensive when spoken about you. A few arguments they had about it didn’t end up too well and Rindou was too smart to try to straighten his older brother. It was an ungrateful work Rindou didn’t want to commit to.

Besides, they now - a few arrests later and in a new gang - lived on their own. A shiny new large apartment in a posh area of Roppongi. Not the penthouse Ran promised you two, but something close to it. If younger Rindou doubted they would make it, now he was almost sure they would. The trust in them was never that strong.

You, a university student now, still lived with your parents on their childhood street. You too wanted to move out, but the rent was too expensive and other than freelance jobs here and there, you had no income. So you were doomed to linger around old ghosts for a bit longer. You didn’t mind it that much and if you want to get out from there you could always crash at Ran’s and Rindou’s place. You did that quite frequently.

“What are you gonna do if he starts seeing someone seriously?” Rindou asks as he watches you cut the cabbage in half.

It’s an expected question. He asks you this all the time when you speak about Ran and you and whatever you two have. Still, the unpleasant burn in your chest rings a bell and you shrug which Rindou interprets as i don’t care. In reality it’s a weak attempt to shed the thorns this question prompted.

“I don’t understand how you can do it daily…” “We don’t do it daily.” He squints. “Yeah. Anyway. Don’t you at least feel something for each other?” You set the knife aside and think about it for a bit. There’s nothing to think about, really. You know very well how you feel. You just don’t want Rindou to know it as well.

“He is one of the closest people I have. It's understandable that I feel something for him.” You leave it at that. Rindou is not satisfied with your answer, but it will do for now. As he picks up the other knife and starts helping you with the cabbage, he tells you about the new DJ setup he wants to buy and you talk about it for the rest of the evening.

For now everything is well.

Days later, though, you walk in on Ran making out with his new girlfriend and even if you’ve seen him kissing other girls before this one is like a breath of fresh air, sobering you up. The only difference is that the air is venomous and there’s hands around your neck, choking you. You feel dead.

“Oh God.” You say, apologetically, covering your eyes. You’ve been saying something the moment you opened the door to their apartment with your own key [because of course you do have one, just in case]. Something about how much you hate your university and how much you want to drop out. Now, the words are stuck in your throat and you wave your hands at them, apologies leaving your mouth.

Ran understands that something is wrong with you immediately. He hopes it’s not what he thinks it is. He hopes it’s not the end of you.

He is wrong. Because it is.

Because while he slaps the girl on her butt urging her to get off him, you are already at the door, putting your shoes back on. He catches you there. He asks you to stay and you do. Your hands tremble as he holds them, his grip is painful, but he needs to clasp on you to feel that you are still there. With him. You let him do it.

Neither of you notices the girl leave.

“I don’t want to sit there. I…” Your eyes are everywhere, but not on him and he thinks that even if you look at him, you won’t see him. Not now. Not ever again. You smile sheepishly, suddenly afraid and foreign. “Can we sit at the table instead?”

Instead, he takes you to the bathroom. Sits you on the toilet and fills the bath. He adds scented salt you bought and lights a candle that you so like to have lit when you are soaking together. For whatever reason, he wishes he was at his old house. There they have shower. Somehow, Ran thinks standing and having you in his arms would be better than sitting opposite of each other or him facing your back, that’s if you let him hug you now. He believes you won’t.

He believes you are already far far away from him and the mundane routine and stupid false idea that it would be different, that he still could’ve made you stay, would you be in his old childhood house is what keeps him together.

Ran clutches to it as if it could save him, when he knows so well, no one but you have this power over him.

In the bath you sit opposite him, your knees pressed to your chest, you don’t touch him as if you are avoiding him, but when he reaches out you slip your hands in his. It kills you that it doesn’t feel like anything, but burnt sugar. Like something sweet that is already buried.

“Remember that time Rindou said he never wanted to get older?”

You nod. Curious as to why he had remembered this particular insignificant moment of your life. But maybe, the significance of the moment is exactly in its insignificance. You rarely miss something with that deep ache in your heart that is obvious to miss. You always long for fragments of your life that are small and tiny. The way he drinks his water. The way his lips curl before he laughs or how he always pecks you before kissing you fully.

Before your eyes is cloudy blue-ish water. Your vision gets blurry. It’s how you understand you’ve been crying for some time now.

“I do think I understand him now. I don’t want to get older, because it means you will leave me.”

“Ran…”

“It means I will spend the rest of my life killing the need I have for you.”

“Ran, please…”

“It means I will always regret how this is my confession to you.” You rush to him, your hands around his neck and you are everywhere. Inside this apartment, inside his arms, inside his beating heart. Inside his very being. You are him and you are his and kilometres away you still will be.

“Don’t go somewhere I won’t find you.” He whispers as your lips fall near his temple above his eye. He takes off his chunky silver ring off his finger and puts it on yours. It’s the first jewellery he ever bought in his life. He was sixteen back then. It has the meaning of his whole self. “Don’t go somewhere where I can’t follow you. Promise me, love.”

“I promise, Ran. I’ll always be within your reach.”

The next day you drop out of the university. Without telling anyone anything you move from Tokyo to Kumamoto where you work as a freelance photographer and a waitress for roughly more than a year before moving abroad.

No one looks for you.

The world is silent.

***

Life doesn’t stop when you turn twenty six as you always thought it would. Age doesn’t crush you or diminish the person you once were. To be completely honest, it didn’t do shit. You don’t feel especially different. Life went on the same it always went and the same it always would. There’s a raw prominent beauty in this phenomena, you can’t quite put into words. It makes you feel very small, in an extenuating kind of way.

You don’t hate it, but you don’t like it either.

It is as if you are waiting for the wave that might never come.

Lately, you’ve been dreaming a lot. The dreams are usually the same. It’s the floor to ceiling windows, the smell of cheap cigarettes that are now long discontinued and a presence of two people that never ever left you. The other one has the small street where your childhood house is and this one is full of cicadas chattering. It’s always summer in this one and you are always young and loved there. You are always happy.

You don’t differentiate these two dreams, because they are about the same things. It would be naive to think they aren’t.

Today, it’s the first time this week that the sun decided to show up and warm this wet groggy city. It’s been raining for the whole month almost non-stop and you lock the door to your apartment rather hurriedly, wishing to get out of your box even for an hour, before it rains again. The key hits the ring on your ring finger and the metal sound it produces echo in the hallway. Until it bumps at something. You freeze.

“I didn’t know what apartment was yours.” He says and you are so desperate to turn around and you are so so so afraid he won’t be there when you do, because his voice sounds exactly as all those years ago and it should be different, shouldn't it be? Shouldn’t everything be different now? But it’s not. You are the same. The burn in your chest and the tie in your belly are the same too. And suddenly you are sixteen again. You drop the keys and you run to him; the only person you would’ve run to.

You bury your face in his neck noticing how there’s no braids, no hair. He has cut it short. But it’s still him. The smell, the laugh, the way his palms feel on the small of your back. The way you love him and the way he loves you. Only you. It’s never been anybody else.

“I bought the penthouse and now I came to take you home. Would you come with me? There’s no windowsill, but we can smoke in the kitchen. Rin was right after all. He is so smug about it. You can’t imagine. He’s in the car now waiting for us. Do you wanna go see him?” You do.

I do, I do, I do, you say, and he relishes in the sound of your voice. Bathing in the substance that is you and in this moment Ran wishes he could go back to his old bedroom in his childhood house with blue nights in Roppongi and promise all of you that everything is gonna be alright, that you will make it out together and that there's so much more to your stories. Even now, six years later, you still have your lives ahead of you.

And your stories are still not finished. Not even close.

There’s still so much more to come. To live. And this time properly together.

391 notes · View notes

haitaniwhor3 · 2 years ago

Text

Blue Lock fic recommendations

(Reader inserts) Recommendations of my favorite headcanons/imagines/fics/scenarios (I don’t own any)

・・・・・・

@ 24hlevi's masterlist

@ earthtooz's masterlist

@ garoujo's masterlist 1, masterlist 2

@ justauthoring's masterlist

@ mitsies' masterlist

・・・・・・

fluff / cliche romance tropes (part 1) ⟶ w/Bachira, Nagi & Rin

fluff / cliche romance tropes (part 2) ⟶ w/Isagi, Reo & Chigiri

fluff / reuniting with them at the airport⟶ w/Nagi, Bachira, Rin, Sae, Reo & Kunigami

fluff / you open up a blanket for him ⟶ w/Nagi, Sae, Rin, Bachira & Reo

fluff / kissing ⟶ w/Nagi, Chigiri, Bachira, Rin, & Sae

fluff / how he kisses you ⟶ w/Isagi, Bachira, Kunigami, Chigiri & Nagi

sfw / hot things he does ⟶ w/Isagi, Bachira, Kunigami, Nagi, Chigiri, Rin & Barou

sfw / hot things he does ⟶ w/Bachira, Nagi, Rin, Reo & Isagi

sfw / flexible s/o ⟶ w/Bachira, Chigiri & Rin

fluff / all mine ⟶ w/Isagi, Bachira, Chigiri & Nagi

fluff / chapstick challenge ⟶ w/Bachira, Rin, Nagi, Kunigami & Chigiri

sfw / whipped for manager ⟶ w/Isagi, Sae, Rin & Reo

sfw / coming to his game for the first time ⟶ w/Bachira, Nagi & Rin

fluff / booping their nose ⟶ w/Bachira, Isagi & Reo

fluff / lovesick confessions ⟶ w/Bachira, Chigiri, Isagi, & Nagi

fluff / someone asks if you´re single during his q&a ⟶ w/Nagi, Bachira, Rin, Sae & Reo

fluff / beautiful ⟶ w/Isagi, Kunigamj, Reo & Eita

angst fluff / you receive hate (part 1) ⟶ w/Nagi, Rin & Sae

angst fluff / you receive hate (part 2) ⟶ w/Reo, Kaiser & Isagi

fluff / I know I love you ⟶ w/Nagi, Rin & Reo

・・・・・・

Isagi Yoichi

sfw / dreamer

fluff / "god, I'm so f*cking in love with you"

sfw / crush

fluff / when was it (when we fell in love)

fluff / content

fluff / sweet dreams

fluff / I'm not ready to leave

nsfw / girls need love

nsfw / bedroom

fluff / mr. & mrs.

Bachira Meguru

fluff / under the snowy sunrise

angst fluff / I love you, sorry

sfw / that thought made Meguru feel like he might die of loneliness

Chigiri Hyoma

ansgt fluff / reviver

fluff / kissing his injured knee

fluff / silky hair

fluff / au happily ever after

fluff / overprotective

fluff / friends to lovers

fluff / braiding his hair

Kunigami Rensuke

fluff / footsie

angst fluff / needed comfort

sfw / visit of a hero

fluff / clingy

Nagi Seishiro

fluff/ "you´re beautiful, you know that"

nsfw / dating simulator

angst fluff/ between love & lies

fluff / laundry day

sfw / eye contact

angst fluff / just say it

fluff / panda bear

Mikage Reo

nsfw / love taste

angst fluff / your place

angst fluff / gold diggger

angst fluff / boyfriend

fluff / end this date with a kiss

fluff / grocery shopping

Itoshi Rin

sfw / 6ams with you

ansgt fluff / jealousy, jealousy

sfw / gloves

fluff / twenty sundays

angst fluff / 2 am

fluff / sugar and everything nice

angst fluff / nervous

fluff / ferris wheel kiss

fluff / dimples

fluff / the train ride home

fluff / dedicating a goal

angst fluff / no fear

fluff / idiotically in love

・・・・・・

Updated:13-Mar-2023

Banners made by me ♡

4K notes · View notes

haitaniwhor3 · 2 years ago

Text

state of dreaming | jean kirstein

synopsis:

you are an infamous wild child. daughter of a former supermodel and an notorious entertainment industry defence attorney.

your daily antics are plastered over every single trashy tabloid, your love life is the hot topic for morning shows, every outfit, make up look, hairstyle you don is the latest trend sweeping the internet, you're VIP at every exclusive event and party and yet underneath all that, you know that the image you’ve crafted for the media is nothing but a lie.

he is the son of your father’s co-worker. he’s arrogant and conceited but a second around you and he’s practically putty in your hands.

for @510hz's how to be a heartbreaker collab!!

genres: angst, eventual smut

female reader, she/her pronouns, black-coded reader, reader insert, modern au, unhealthy relationship dynamics, jean and reader are both seniors in high school, not beta read oops

content warnings: smut, alcohol & drug usage, unhealthy relationship dynamics

authors note: firstly, a massive thanks to ares @510hz for creating this collab and opportunity!! i love your works and you are awesome 💓

also i know marilyn monroe (which the song state of dreaming is about) was said to have been a sweet and kind person but the reader is not, so warning for that. i wrote a LOT so i had to split it into two parts. the first part doesn't seem to match the synopsis however i wanted to lay a foundation for the reader and jean's relationship so i guarantee part two will corroborate with it!! the second part will also have a time skip so jean and the reader will be 21

wc: 5.3k

there was one man who sticks out to you amongst your countless lovers. jean kirstein.

your first impression of jean? you honestly thought he was a loser. the way he was fawning over you was nothing short of pathetic.

he was a blushing, stuttering mess. he couldn't even form a coherent sentence when he took in your appearance.

and you absolutely revelled in that.

it was quite frankly amusing how little it could take to rile him up.

the straw that broke the camel's back soon came around. and jean flipped. you figure it was impending anyways.

he caused such a stint at a nightclub, tackling some man you were grinding on on the dance floor in the VIP section which he shoved dozens of burly security guards for that you both were trending for weeks.

you were essentially a nepotism child, jean was a little lower on the hierarchy. still above others but his father worked for yours.

the incident had caused a major rift in jean and his father's relationship. so much so, his mother had to sit with him and ask about the two of you's relationship.

jean's parents were generally laidback.

as their son was in his adolescent years, they did their best not to suffocate him.

as long as he didn't get in trouble with the law, knock anybody up, and maintained good grades they didn't see any reason to be in his business.

when his mother first learned of his infatuation with you, she knew it was going to end in a train wreck.

you were a gorgeous girl. absolutely no denying that.

her mind went back to the summer evening in june when you and jean first met and the two of you had somehow managed to slip out of the back when night fell.

jean crashed blind drunk into the trashcans at dawn, causing such a ruckus, his parents had to plead their elderly neighbourhood watch member not to call the cops.

at first, he was flat out refusing to attend the dinner party with his parents. to be sat with his father's boss, his wife and his parents sounded like the most boring thing on the planet.

but when he called up his best friend, marco to hang out marco had pointed out that you were the y/n.

"what? am i supposed to know her or something?" he responded, harshly.

"who doesn't know her?" marco stated. "i'll send you her account, then you'll rethink bailing on that dinner party."

jean scoffed.

"suuuure." he drawled out.

jean's mouth fell open when he opened the instagram profile marco had messaged him.

"jean, you still there?" marco questioned as he was met with silence from the other end of the phone line.

jean suddenly let out a yelp.

as his eyes fixated on the screen, your followers was damn near a hundred thousand. you were verified, but what had blown jean away was how stunning you were.

in the pinned selfie, your manicured hand cradled your face and your eyes seemed to pierce through him despite it being through the screen. he felt a little ridiculous at the fact his pulse was racing at a selfie of all things.

"jean man, if you go to her place please don't scare the girl. be normal." marco said, defeatedly with a sigh.

"what?! i'm normal!" he exclaimed, marco winced at the sudden rise in jean's vocal pitch.

"whatever. so? you going?-" the phone immediately went dead, cutting marco off. his lips pursed together in annoyance.

he rubbed his temples.

marco admired and adored his best friend very much, but he was worried you'd hurt the guy.

jean had an inflated ego and viewed the world a little differently compared to a person who was in touch with reality.

he tended to take everything at face value, he was prone to outbursts and scathing words when he was humiliated, he talked down to people a lot if he deemed them unworthy compared to him.

with the things marco had heard about you, your cattiness and his cockiness sounded like a disaster waiting to happen. like water and oil.

jean's mother stared at him in disbelief after he rushed to the living room to ask her if he could tag along.

"what?" she questioned, as she narrowed her eyes. "why would you ask hours before? honestly, jean." she tutted.

"look, i'm sorry for inconveniencing you but i want to come along, seriously! i want to take the same career path as dad so meeting his boss would help a lot." jean stated, with a grin.

"firstly, he is not your father's boss. your father and he are colleagues." his mom corrected.

"well, who has the bigger house?" jean muttered under his breath.

"sounds like somebody doesn't want to come along." she said, haughtily.

"i was just kidding!"

"you can come along under one condition. you will wear the outfit i bought you." she said.

jean's mouth went dry. he was going to be face to face to you in that middle school debate club get up? normally a dress shirt and pants seemed suave, but the one his mother had bought for him just made him look like a dork.

"fine." he responded, clenching his jaw.

"that's my boy." she gushed. "you're a real sweetheart, you know!"

later that evening, the three walked down the bricked pathway as they made their way to the grand estate. the hedges and shrubs were immaculately kept, the lush green grass seemed to span as far as the eye could see up to the creamy white perimeter walls.

a member of staff, presumably the butler, guided them towards the lavish dining room where the two were sat. jean visibly wilted when he noticed your absence. he had grovelled for nothing.

the staff guided jean and his parents towards their seats after the adults all exchanged greetings and pleasantries.

the starter dish was brought to the table and discussions began, jean eyed the doorway. he could not stand to listen to middle age drivel.

but at that very moment, you strolled in late. in a ridiculously short mini skirt that barely covered your behind and a cropped tank top that left little to the imagination causing him to perk up and stand up straight.

your father chastised you, and made a comment underneath his breath about how you lived to humiliate him.

you just rolled your eyes and strode to the table to plop yourself opposite jean, giving him a vampy smile which jean responded with a fierce blush upon his cheeks and a timid smile.

"y/n, that is in no way, shape or form appropriate wear for guests. go get changed now." your father said through gritted teeth.

you pulled a face and pretended you didn't hear what he said, which only aggravated him even more.

"oh give her a break, honey." your mother said, already tipsy from wine even though it was merely the beginning of the dinner. "she has the bod, why can't she flaunt it. you're just like mommy, aren't you dear?" she cackled, sloshing the drink about. causing your father to swallow thickly and purse his lips.

"exactly, just like mom said." you countered. you turned your attention on jean once again. the dinner dragged on. the tension in the room was beyond thick, and jean's parents wanted nothing more for it to end so they could head home.

jean hadn't even noticed how uncomfortable his parents were because he was trying everything in his power not to burst a boner at you stroking your foot up and down his calf with the same alluring gaze that reduced him to putty in your hands.

after the aptly named dinner from hell by your father ended, you dragged jean away from both your parents presence.

as they all began to talk amongst themselves, jean's mother could see you coaxing jean to follow after you in the corner of her eye.

it clicked, he had been pleading to tag along for you. she let it slide though, as abhorrent as she found your behaviour, she could see jean was head over heels.

he'd have to learn the hard way.

you brought him to the patio deck of the estate, hand in hand then let him go as you sat on the staircase of the expansive patio. he stood right in front of you, struggling to make eye contact and gnawing on his bottom lip.

"you seem flustered." you said, smiling as you tilted your head.

"yeah.." he laughed, awkwardly.

"do you know me or something?" you questioned, cocking a brow.

"just came across your page earlier.." he muttered as he rubbed his arm.

"you should've followed me!" you exclaimed.

"you have thousands of followers, i know you would not have followed me back." he snarked, his nervousness fading away at the absurdity of your comment.

"oh? you have a bit of a bite. that's nice, i thought you were a total loser for a second." you replied with a laugh.

jean took your appearance in for a moment. he was now up close and personal with the same girl he was acting like a fool over. your appearance fooled him, he had thought you were gentle but was he wrong.

you liked to toy with people, that's for sure.

"you wanna go out?" you asked, stretching your arms and arching your back after you sat up from the brick staircase.

"huh? like you wanna be my girlfriend?" he asked, eyes widened.

"no, silly. i wanna go to the club. you wanna come?"

"oh." jean faltered. "but i think my parents-"

"jean, how old are you again?" you cut him off.

"...eighteen." he responded.

"so why are you acting like you're twelve? if its such an issue i'm sure you can text them. so...are you in?"

"i...don't go clubbing...often." he said, trying to formulate the least embarrassing sentence. he had a feeling that any honesty he shared with you would result in mockery.

"often? oh, you're cute when you lie." you sauntered up to him, cupping the side of his face with your soft hand and twirled your forefinger around his small tufts of hair.

"if you don't club its okay, we can go clubbing all the time. would you like that, jean?" you asked, softly.

he had no idea why your statement sounded like he was selling his soul to the devil. but he nodded.

he hated how he seemed to lose his composure around you. but who could blame him? you had the sort of beauty that made passersby stop and stare.

"good boy." you said as you patted his head, then slipped your fingers to interlock with his and drag him away.

as he followed after you, he came to a conclusion about you.

no didn't exist in your world.

the two of you sat in a cab, after you told the driver the address of a random block. realisation sunk to jean that you were probably planning on going clubbing regardless because of your outfit.

you had had no plans on staying in the house, whatsoever.

as the two of you got out of the cab, which was parked slightly away from the destination you had told him you had in mind, his eyebrows pinched together in confusion.

"are you going to pay..?" he whispered.

"pfft, no." you responded.

he gave you an incredulous stare.

"what? why the hell not?!" he hissed.

you shrugged.

"i thought you were."

he attempted to repress his irritation as he fumbled for his wallet in his pockets. he handed the driver a twenty dollar note but the driver squinted at jean.

"what?"

"you must be out of your mind if you think i'm going to accept twenty dollars for all these miles." he spat. "cough up some more."

in the corner of jean's eye, he could see you already pushing the car door open.

"hey!" the driver called out as you yanked jean by his arm out of the vehicle and rushed away.

"what are you doing?!" he exclaimed at the top of his lungs.

you ignored his yelling and tried to lose the driver amongst the stream of people in the streets. people groaned and swore at you two for pushing and weaving past them but for you it made it all the more thrilling whilst jean was beyond mortified.

you finally arrived to the nightclub, and the queue seemed to wind down blocks. jean observed all the club-goers who seemed to be in either the most revealing or avant-garde clothing he'd ever seen.

this definitely wasn't his crowd.

despite the never ending line of people, you with your hand clamped around jean's wrist made your way all the way to the front were the bouncer stood.

jean felt himself shrinking in his dress shoes as angry line standers began to hurl verbal abuse and get pushy, regardless you seemed to let it bounce off you and the bouncer immediately granted the both of you entrance.

"how'd you get in?" jean asked, in astonishment.

"let's just say i'm reaaaal familiar with the owner." you snickered.

there was a smoke machine billowing grey clouds as well as lights flashing in all sorts of colours. music, heavy with bass pulsated throughout as the dancers followed the beat.

you dragged jean towards the dance floor. you weren't a stranger when it came to clubs, that was clear as day.

jean was in the midst of a complete sensory overload. his eyes flitted towards you, with your hands in the air just completely lost in the music, he was suffocating.

he could handle parties, rowdy house parties but for some reason this nightclub was fast becoming his interpretation of hell.

his stomach was churning, his heartbeat was racing so much so he could've sworn it was about to explode out of his chest. everybody was preoccupied with the music, the drinks, the groping each other on the dance floor he felt as if he was out of his mind for reacting like this.

he immediately fled the club, pushing past dozens of people for what seemed like the umpteenth time tonight.

jean used the last of his strength to push open the fire door exit as he stumbled out of the club. it wouldn't be a task for him at all but the strong spirits he downed caused him to lose his balance and coordination.

he was drenched in sweat, the fabric was clinging to his skin uncomfortably. the dress shoes and dress shirt he had chosen for the dinner party was probably the last thing anybody would wear for a nightclub.

the cool night air was beyond a relief. the crispness seemed to expel his heightened senses.

he had opened the collar button but he was beyond feverish and sticky, he'd opened so much buttons up to his navel. he knew he looked ridiculous. his eyes flitted to you, still with that hell raiser grin upon your lips.

you looked pretty dishevelled too, but it made you look even more sexier to him. unbeknownst to him, you found him attractive in the unkempt state, but you decided with jean, you were going to be unreadable and coy.

"what the hell was that?!" he stammered, pupils blown wide.

"fun! it's fun! what? was it a little too much for little jeanie?" you asked as you took two strides towards him, and pinched his cheek, hard.

"what the hell was fun about that?! it was so cramped and gross and-"

he paused from his rant when your scent began to travel up his nostrils. powdery, floral and creamy, it was intoxicating and distracting, to say the least. but when he took a more thorough glance at you, he could tell you were not there fully.

pupils dilated, eyes glassed over and beyond twitchy.

his thoughts were cut off when you immediately yanked his collar down to meet your lips, giving him a frenzied kiss. it was sloppy. teeth clashing and tongues sliding against each other.

he pulled away for air, but stared at you in disbelief. he was so confused at everything but the sensation of having you against him was addicting. his lips tingled and his head spun.

he leaned in again to kiss you but he was caught off guard abruptly when you kicked his shin, with such force he yelped out in pain.

he bent over and clutched his shin as he hissed.

"what the fuck was that for?!"

"i think you're forgetting, jean. i make the rules. i do what i want, i make the move. you never do unless i say so." you said, an edge to your voice causing him to stare at you in horror.

without warning, your hand reached out to grab a fistful of his hair and dragged him towards your neck.

"you ever given a hickey before?" you asked.

he nodded against you as his face was buried into the skin of the juncture of your neck and shoulder.

"if you can make me moan pretty loud, i'll give you the next move. deal?"

"...okay." he mumbled, as he began to suck the warm flesh lightly. his knee wedged between your inner thighs, his chest flush against your own.

your body began to heat up, you were enjoying him, your eyes half lidded and your nails digging into his skin.

he pulled away, electrified at the sensations, swollen lips wet and parted.

"well? what's your next move?" you questioned.

"not in a dingy alley, that's for sure." he responded, voice low as his palm rested on the brick wall.

"you're no fun." you pouted.

"the smell of trash cans is a boner killer." he remarked.

he cleared his throat and buttoned up his shirt.

"y/n...did you take something?" he asked, a hint of concern in his voice.

"well duh. i always do, it enhances the club experience." you giggled. "why? you want some?"

"no...i already feel sick from the shots." jean muttered.

"you're adorable." you snorted. "i'm gonna ruin you."

✦

"dude...you look like shit. what, you barely got sleep?" marco's voice dragged jean out from his trance as he nearly dozed off in the diner.

"huh?"

"what time did you sleep?" he asked.

"like 7am."

"what the fuck? you coulda cancelled y'know!"

it was pretty much tradition for jean and marco to hang out at the diner every saturday morning.

"my parents were on my ass after i came home at like 6, blind drunk. i didn't wanna be in the house after the grilling."

"well damn, why'd you come home so late i thought you had dinner with them and y/n l/n! is she even hotter in person?"

"that girl...seeing her will make your head spin but she's got a screw loose that's for sure. but it's kinda hot." he responded. the bell at the entrance of the diner rang, which made jean wince slightly.

but soon enough, jean's eyes widened when he saw you make your way to the booth where he and marco were sat.

you gave a small wave and slid right next to marco.

"how did you know where i was?" jean asked, aghast.

"just phoned home. hope you didn't tell tall tales about me, jeanie. your mom seemed not happy in the slightest when she found out who was at the end of the line." you cackled.

marco stared at you, mouth hanging open.

"how rude of me, i'm-"

"i know who you are." marco blurted out. "not in like a creepy way but i know of you-"

jean shook his head.

"y/n, marco. marco, y/n. there." he said, with an exasperated tone.

"would you say you're a fan of me, marco?" you asked with a grin.

"um...to be a fan of you, you'd have to do something so.." he trailed off.

"i do things! you wouldn't get it." you huffed. "maybe i should invite you to come with me and jean."

"who says i was coming to anything with you? last night was my limit." jean muttered underneath his breath.

"is he always this bitchy?" you asked marco, causing jean to pull a face, offended.

"he doesn't shy away from sarcasm i guess." marco snorted.

"i'm having a birthday party soon, so it'd be cool if you came. i'd put you on the vip list and everything." you stated.

"is it gonna be at a nightclub again?" jean sighed.

"don't make that face, jean! just cos you had one crappy night doesn't mean you need to write off clubbing forever. i'm basically the host and the birthday girl at this one so you can stop your bitching." you said.

jean side eyed you.

"fine."

"great! i'll text you the details." you said as you slid out of the leather seating.

"where are you going?" jean asked, confused.

"i wanted to see you real quick, you're welcome. i'm very busy what with the preparations and all." you stated as you flipped your hair and put on your sunglasses.

"y/n wait!" jean called out as he followed after you out of the diner.

"jean, i'm flattered but can you wait another time? to say my schedule is jam packed would be an understatement." you replied.

jean swallowed thickly as he took a step forward to meet your gaze, despite it not working as much as he'd hoped since it was blocked by the tinted lenses.

"y/n...what are we?" jean asked, eyes stormy. "i've had girlfriends in the past but...this is so confusing."

you patted his head.

"we're two young people having fun, jeanie! no labels, no problems. i thought you boys hate a clingy girl." you remarked.

"but...i don't want that. i want you to be mine."

"join the queue, jean." you sighed as you waved a hand in his face and headed towards your taxi, leaving his jaw slack.

✦

weeks passed. to the naked eye, you and jean seemed inseparable. his father dismissed it as young love but his mother noticed things weren't exactly green on the other side for her son.

he just wasn't the same. his time was occupied with you. she honestly viewed you as an energy vampire.

jean laid on your bed, staring at the ceiling. under regular circumstances, a guy would be over the moon to be in his "girlfriend's" bedroom.

but that wasn't the case. firstly, you and jean despite regularly engaging in intimate acts weren't a couple at all. and it deeply bothered him.

maybe it was because it was you calling the shots.

"you've barely said a word since you've got here." you snorted as you observed his pensive look. you took a seat on the side of your queen bed and placed your elbow on one of the hot pink cushions. "what's up?"

"what, you expect me to entertain you or something?" he retorted, voice laced with venom.

"jean, if you're going to through a bitch fit over something why would you even come over?" you hissed.

god, you frustrated him.

"for your information, i'm throwing a bitch fit because now i go to school and everybody thinks i'm some sort of cuck!" he yelled out.

"what?" you snorted, in disbelief.

he averted his gaze as his bottom lip began to tremble.

"what kind of man i am if you're just sleeping around with any guy, huh?" he protested.

"what the hell...okay, since when did i place a lock on you? you can sleep with or date anybody else you want to, you know."

"i told you y/n, time and time again, the only person i want is you. why can't you give us a chance?!"

damn it, you almost felt bad. the way his light brown eyes were glossed over with tears, how defeated his voice was. but you refused to falter.

there was a part of you that enjoyed seeing how desperate he was. you crawled onto the bed and settled beside him.

"why would they call you cuck unless you were going around claiming me?" you spat. "and why are you getting offended when the only touch most boys in your school receive is from themselves."

he hated how funny you were at times. at this moment.

"what can i do to make you mine? is there some ritual?" he asked, with a half smile.

"i just...don't wanna commit to anybody! i like things my way." you responded.

he let out a groan.

"there's no getting through to you, is there?" he sighed.

this conversation wasn't going anywhere, so he did the one thing you did respond to. he placed his hand on your bare thigh, and began to trail upwards towards your panties.

he pressed soft kisses across your bare shoulder.

"oh?" you remarked. "what changed?"

"no use." he muttered.

you wanted to get offended and argue back but it seemed as if jean accepted what you had tried to drill in his head.

still massaging your inner thigh, he tilted your head for better access to meet your lips in a slow, chaste kiss.

he pulled away to take a look at you and catch his breath.

"god, you're unreal." he said in a low voice.

it wasn't some sort of groundbreaking, poetic line but it reduced your insides to mush all the same.

you ran your hands to settle on his back, causing him to groan against your mouth and press his hips against your own.

his weight on you and friction against your core made your mind with hazy with lust as your back arched into him and you let out a soft moan of your own.

"do you know how crazy you drive me?" he whispered.

his hand reached down to hike your leg around his waist and grind into you.

"why i want you to be mine? i just can't get enough of you."

"...jean." you said softly.

"even the way you say my name drives me up the wall."

the two of you are still fully clothed, rutting against each other as your mouths are attached. your tongue sliding against jean's.

it was a blissful experience.

it should be something so lewd however there was always this gentle lovingness jean graced you with.

his words, how he would interlace his fingers with your own. how every now and then, he'd pull away to cradle the side of your face and admire your features. your heart would almost burst out.

in your mind, you didn't deserve it at all.

✦

tonight should be your night. surrounded by dozens of people who claim to be your friends, dressed in the most glamorous diamond corset dress that makes you look like a 1950s hollywood starlet, hair past your shoulders.

yet at this moment in time, you were at your lowest.

people around you were downing all the alcoholic beverages in sight and tucking into the cake that had been crafted by the most sought out baker on the globe and it hadn't moved you.

mainly because jean isn't here. and jean isn't here because ever since that conversation happened about commitment, he'd been distant and cold.

there was no way in hell you were going to beg for a man to come to your party, especially considering that it was the talk of the town.

he could go to hell for all you cared.

but not really.

"i've never seen a more depressing birthday girl!" your friend from school anita (very liberal use of the term since in reality you despised her and you were sure the feeling was mutual) cried out.

your eyes slitted at her statement.

"you're a right pill head, y'know. you couldn't wait until a few hours later?" she questioned.

"do you have the shit or not?" you said, curtly. not in the mood to humor her.

she slipped the small zipper bag into your hand.

"enjoy, try not to od and all. i pride myself on customer service." she stated, as she slinked off onto the dance floor.

you headed to the bathroom.

it was depressing that you couldn't exactly enjoy things any longer because of your particular vice.

but if it got rid of the crippling birthday blues, why the hell not?

once you were finished, you spotted a familiar face looking slightly bewildered.

"marco, you came!" you exclaimed as you threw your arms around him. he let out a huff at the way you launched yourself onto him but gave you a pat on the back all the same.

"yeah, i was here earlier but the line was crazy and they seemed to be searching folks." he stated as he rubbed the back of his head and brandished a gift bag.

"is jean coming?"

marco's brows pinched together.

"coming? he's been here the entire time, huh? did he cut n run or what?"

your eyes widened.

did jean see you shamelessly dancing on every and any guy? was he stood somewhere brooding and giving you evils?

suddenly, there was a commotion towards the left side of the club with gasps and yelling. people clamouring around to get a good view of what was taking place.

"what the fuck is your problem, man?" random dude number six or five who you remember your butt was against bellowed out.

"why'd you have your hands on her, huh?!" jean called out. "thirsty much?"

"oh give me a break, if she was your quote on quote girlfriend why is she dancing on anybody like a total slut?!" he barked.

everybody gasped at the statement.

"what did you just call me?!" you shrieked out. all of a sudden, you could see jean grabbing a heavy bottle from the ice bucket and swinging it towards the man's head.

"jean!" you screamed out loud.

it missed, shattering into pieces everywhere and amping up the situation a million times more as everybody began to panic and scream.

despite the shards of glass, you rushed towards the two.

the security guards shoved people aside to reach and pull the two men away from each other, but the guy had tackled jean and was punching him relentlessly. blood spurted out of jean's nostrils.

this guy had an NFL player's build and it didn't help that jean was already woozy from drinking. the two were eventually separated, jean's head was ringing again.

you crouched down beside jean to help him up, but he was seeing red. he instantly recoiled from your touch and pushed you away causing you to stumble slightly.

"don't touch me, y/n. i'm dead serious!" he fumed.

"what? what the hell did i do?!" you screeched as you stomped your foot.

he stamped off somewhere, leaving your head spinning.

"jean!" marco called out, pulling an apologetic look at you and chased after his best friend.

soon enough the commotion was beginning to die down as the crowds dispersed. jean was sat on the kerb side, nursing his swollen left black eye with a makeshift icepack the bartender had created, a putrid smelling cloth and ice cubes from the champagne bucket.

his heart was still pumping and his head was dizzy from the altercation. his brows pinched in frustration. he told marco to go home, which he obliged since he knew his friend needed alone time.

speak of the devil, you strode towards him pushing through the people and plopped yourself beside him on the kerbside.

your palms rested on the gravel as if you were lounging in the sun.

he turned to look at you, with his one unaffected eye. you seemed to be smiling gleefully, almost enjoying what had unfolded back there.

a lump formed in his throat, and ached.

you looked so beautiful to him right now, the reds and blues of the sirens illuminating your features, the dazzling smile he'd become accustomed to that would make his heart soar.

but it lacked warmth and compassion.

you didn't care about him. you didn't care about him the way he cared about you.

"we're trending on twitter." you snickered, breaking his train of thought. "guess you weren't a match for him."

he knew you meant it as a joke. but it broke him all the same. the lone sentence summed up your relationship. he was never a match to anybody in your eyes.

he said your name, voice beyond defeated.

"yeah?" you responded.

"i don't want to see you anymore."

"huh? what's that supposed to mean?" you asked, taken aback.

"this was.." he struggled to find the right words. it was just so hard when he was so broken. "this was a mistake."

he stood up from the kerb as he looked at you.

"and this was never going to work." he stated, walking away.

194 notes · View notes