#//have morning angst plus i really love this song!

[shesacrified]

❝ This is not what it is, only baby scars. ❞

[unrefinedmusings]

sweet, sweet sugar

pairing: no outbreak!joel miller x f!reader

summary: meeting a man in a bar and trying to determine what about him is so damn alluring. it doesn't really matter though, it ends well for the both of you. part 2: snooze

warnings: smut, explicit sex, explicit language, age gap (reader is mid 20s, Joel is 36) riding, truck sex, nasty talk, MDNI, 18+

a/n: i love him, your honor. i will protect this tired dilf with my life. might expand on this, if so it'll be fluffy/smutty (no angst because the show is already enough pain for me)

---

It was his voice, you think. You had just relocated to Texas and were new enough to be drawn in by that deep Southern accent when he introduced himself.

Hi, uh, I’m Joel. Mind if I buy ya’ a drink?

Maybe it was the age difference. It wouldn’t be a first for you and the few strands of gray in his hair did make you a little weak in the knees.

It could’ve been his arms. Bumping against the hard muscles of his bicep as the bar stools you two were sitting on inevitably wobbled while you talked. Placing a light touch on his forearm when the liquid courage of your second drink kicked in, before your fingers made their way to his indecently thick ones to intertwine. Just the rough touch of his hands was enough to make you shiver.

His eyes were definitely a factor. Puppy brown orbs that sparkled brighter than starlight when he laughed, even under the dim lights of the bar. How they grew dark, almost black, when you leaned in close enough for him to catch a whiff of your perfume, the faintest hint of sweet vanilla lingering in the space between you two.

Or maybe it was just him. All of him. The way he hummed along to the country western songs playing through the bar’s speakers. The way he spoke to you with affection in his voice despite his gruff exterior. The way he talked about his Sarah: the pride while mentioning an A plus social studies paper followed by the anxiety while asking if he was talking about her too often. 

As if loving his daughter too much could scare you away. 

His scruffy beard and charm, his bad humor, his dad humor, his smile.

And the way he called you sugar, like that’s what you were to him. Nothing but sweetness and all too appetizing. Like he’d drink you up with his coffee every morning if you let him.

Your wandering hand made its way down to his thigh, resting just above his knee. He paused mid sentence and for a moment you worried you were being too forward. Your eyes meet his in a heated stare.

“You tryna’ misbehave there, sugar?”

You were and it landed you in Joel’s backseat, laid down with his body pinning yours. He’s kissing you. He’s still kissing you, hasn’t stopped since he pressed you up against his truck in the dark and nearly empty parking lot. He’s on your lips, until you have to pull away for air when he moves down the expanse of your neck, nipping and sucking along the way.

Your legs part for him, wrapping around his hips to dig your heels into the backs of his firm thighs. His hands find their way under your shirt, calloused fingertips forming gooseflesh across your skin before pulling the material up and over your head. He palms your heaving breasts, letting out a low groan at the feel of your soft flesh in his hands, before working his hands around to the clasp. Any restraint he might have had was tossed into the front seat with your bra.

Now he’s desperate, he’s hungry. 

His mouth is on you, all over. His tongue licking at the marks he left on your neck and chest, his teeth making more down your torso. Lips wrap around your nipple and you arch into his suckling, letting him consume even more of you. Every one of his filthy, reverent kisses is more fuel for the fire growing in you. You tug on his dark locks when he reaches the top of your skirt, running his tongue along the line where fabric meets skin.

“J-Joel, please,” you beg, surprising yourself at how wrecked you sound already.

“I wanna taste ya’, sweet thing,” he teases, looking up at you with mischief in his eyes.

Moving his head down between your legs, Joel places sloppy kisses up the inside of your thighs. You watch him with heavy eyes, shuddering as the coarse hair of his beard grazes your sensitive skin. He brings his face to the crotch of your panties, nose nudging your clit, before taking a deep inhale. He licks at you through the soft lace before pulling it off entirely. 

“Fuckin’ gorgeous,” he rasps, the heat of his breath against your cunt enough to make your hips buck. Unbothered by your writhing, Joel wraps his arms around your thighs to keep you open for him before licking a stripe through your slick folds. 

He groans at the taste of you. “Such a sweet pussy, so goddamn wet for me too.”

He dives in, circling your clit with his tongue before plunging inside you. Your thighs try to shut at the sensations, but his hands tighten their grip to hold you in place. You’re melting into his mouth and onto the seats, the fogged up windows an indicator of just how hot everything is right now. 

Then his thick fingers are inside you, thrusting deep and hitting that spot you always have trouble reaching dead on. His mouth wraps around your clit, sucking on it like hard candy.

“Gon’ get a cavity from all this sugar,” he mumbles into your pussy, and the rumble of his laugh vibrates through you.

He thinks he’s so goddamn funny…

“Oh fuck,” you cry out.

It hits you like a rocket. He curls his fingers just right and you’re seeing stars, being pulled up and away into the atmosphere. He doesn’t stop drinking you in until you’ve floated back down to Earth. 

Insatiable.

Your eyes are closed, but you feel his soft lips kissing your neck. He nibbles at your earlobe before whispering, “Did so good for me, such a good girl.”

Good girl. Good girl. Good girl.

It’s like a trigger. All the satisfaction from your climax faded and was replaced by a deep need to be full of him, to take him in and again until you fell into the night sky together.

“Fuck me p-please, please Joel, I need it,” you whine, hands clinging to his broad shoulders.

“Oh sugar,” he coos, “I’ve got you.”

Joel uses one hand to pull you into his lap and straddle his thighs, while the other unbuckles his belt. You scramble to undo his zipper, tug his pants and boxers down, and unveil his—

Oh fuck.

Whatever it was before, it’s definitely his huge dick now. You let out a whine when your fingers wrap around the base without being able to fully encircle it. He rolls a condom down over himself before gripping your hips and guiding you to hover over the flushed red tip. Your forehead is pressed against his as you sink down, gasping at the stretch.

“Good girl, that’s it. It’s big, ain’t it?”

You huff against his cheek, “S’ big.”

“You can take it. Gonna take all of my cock, sugar.”

You do. Your toes curl and you feel like he’s splitting you open, but you take all of him. He rubs circles on your clit, making you gush around him and relax enough to move. With your hands braced on his shoulders, you start rocking your hips and slowly finding a rhythm. Every thrust is electric and the sweet sounds of how wet you are fill the car.

You’re clamped around him, raising and falling harder, faster. Whimpers spilling out of your lips as Joel thrusts into you, meeting your hips with his. You were close, your climax was racing towards you when his thumb found your clit again. Just a few touches to the bundle of nerves and you were toppling over the edge, head thrown back then falling limp into his neck. You shake in his arms as he continues to fuck you in his lap, quickly reaching his own release.

“Fuckin’ goddamnit, sugar,” he pants into your ear as he finishes. 

He keeps you like that, strong arms holding your body close against his as you both catch your breath. You have no objections, nuzzling further into him and gently carding your fingers through his hair. It’s been a few minutes before he breaks the silence.

“Sugar?”

You hum and smile into his skin as a response.

“Could I get your number and, uh, maybe we do this again? Dinner too?”

He had the audacity to sound bashful while his cock was still inside you. You look up to see a pink tint to his cheeks, and you have to answer with a kiss. Slow and sweet.

---

💕💕💕 Thank you for reading 💕💕💕

[kookslastbutton]

Those Eyes Chico ༓ myg (m) | chapter one

✑ Summary: As the new marketing director for Min Yoongi’s upcoming D-Day album & tour, you’re expected to bring your expertise to the table. This shouldn’t be a problem—you’re the best in the business and you’re used to drawing a strict line between your professional and personal life. But what happens when the lines you’ve fought to keep as separate blur for the first time?

pairing: idol!yoongi x plus size!poc!reader

genre/AU: angst, fluff, smut, slowburn, coworkers2friends2lovers, winter setting, forbidden love,

word count: 6.5k+

warnings: oc is 28, Yoon is 30, oc is not originally from South Korea, oc has light brown eyes, swearing, mentions of alcohol consumption, mentions of anxiety, panic attacks, body insecurities, fear of being blacklisted, emotionally restrained yoon, unstable parental relationships, conservative parents, rude Hybe executive that should be fired, bestie!tae is wonderful support 🥹, and cute yoon and oc interactions bc yeah....its thier first time actually meeting so it must be cute!

now playing: Sweet Dreams by The Last Shadow Puppets

a/n: YAHHH chapter one!! Ok i apologize if the meeting is so long and drawn out...I really tried to make it fun but so much info is needed too haha. Anyway this series is dedicated to my wonderfully crazy friend and sorta beta, Gloom @theuselessdaydreamingidiot, and to all our fellow Yoon lovers bc we miss our sweet man SO MUCH 🥺 Enjoy! 🥰 Also huge thank you to @itaeewon for designing this beautiful series header! Love it!!

Series Masterlist | next chapter >>

Winter in Seoul feels like stepping onto the set of your most beloved holiday film.

As the brisk air wraps around you, delicate snowflakes gather atop your head, urging you to cocoon in your finest wool trench coat. Yet, despite the chill, the sight of frost-bitten trees basking in the morning's golden rays offers a source of warmth and delight. Perhaps the most radiant tree of them all is the towering Christmas tree that sits proudly in the heart of the city. Adorned with shimmering red and gold baubles, the giant evergreen catches the eye of every person that walks by–both tourists and locals alike.

Nearby shopping malls buzz with holiday fervor too as shoppers scour for treasures, couples engage in friendly competition to find the ultimate gift, and children line up to take their picture with Santa. But the best part is when night falls. The whole city comes alive with joy and laughter as loved ones meet one another on the ice-skating rinks, while karaoke bars echo tipsy renditions of timeless songs sung by overworked professionals, each with a bottle of soju in hand.

Yes, Seoul is a place for making memories and you’re in the thick of it.

Having been in the city for three years, one might assume you’ve become well accustomed to the energy of the season. You've really grown to love it here. But adjusting to the new environment is still proving to be a challenge, the most outstanding being the prevailing beauty standards.

Massive billboards featuring stunning models serve as constant reminders of the type of beauty one should aim to achieve as you commute to work. Impossible to miss are the shining examples themselves – iconic k-pop groups Seventeen, Red Velvet, EXO, BlackPink, Mamamoo, TXT, and of course BTS plastered on the side of every flat surface imaginable. You’re not exactly complaining about that aspect as you’ve helped design a good handful of them as a top marketing and advertising professional. But the strict image of what constitutes a beautiful and worthy individual weighs on you more than you’d like.

While a conventional body type isn’t what you’ve been given in this life, you don’t consider yourself to be completely unattractive either. Having high cheekbones, a strong jawline, striking light brown eyes, good enough ass, and a full chest shouldn’t classify as undesirable. Still, you wish you’d adopt this more body positive mindset rather than your current overthinking one. It’s easier said than done, being that you not only see idols everyday on the streets in digital form but at work as well.

You continue further into city until a set of tall, glass doors meet you mere steps away. You tilt your head back to catch the name of the skyscraper before nearing the building’s sturdy, silver handle.

BigHit Music.

Feeling its cool metal under your fingertips, the door swings open with an easier pull than imagined to welcome you into the bustling lobby. You feel a rush of confidence return to you upon entering– this is your domain, this is where you truly shine.

“Did you get the files I sent to you?”

The woman nods her head in affirmation while sweeping a few pieces of her long, silky hair behind an ear. To strangers, she appears to look about 24 which is only four years younger than yourself but nonetheless she’s the same age as you. Hei-Ran is her name, meaning “graceful orchid” according to Korean translation.

Hei-ran is one of Hybe’s newest hires and based on her experience, a near perfect fit to being South Korean boy group Tomorrow X Together’s new marketing manager. Until about three months ago, this had been your job.

You never imagined giving up the position after three years of working in the role. But with December right around the corner Hybe had other plans for you.

"Graduated summa cum laude with a bachelors degree in BTech in Electrical and Electronics Engineering and a MBA in Marketing from NYU Stern. You worked two years as a brand manager for U.S record label Atlantic Records immediately after graduating, and are now working at BigHit Music as a marketing manager for TXT including liaison with their global marketing team.”

You recall Bang PD's voice vibrate in the back of your mind from mid-August. You thought you were called into his office to discuss details of TXT’s latest promo, so having your resume read back to you was a sweeping curve ball. Your determination must have far exceeded the heaviness you felt in your chest because before you knew it you, you were shaking hands with your boss in acceptance of your role – the new marketing director for Min Yoongi’s upcoming D-Day album & tour.

The tedious knot that’s formed in the nape of your neck reminds you that as surreal as the situation might be, it’s undeniably real.

Months spent drafting a comprehensive marketing proposal for D-Day; often until the wee hours of the night, inevitably takes its toll on even the mightiest of warriors. An entire new team of fifty people, all of who you’ll be in charge of orchestrating for the next eight months, doesn’t provide much to relief either.

You’re excited nevertheless. Working with one of the most respected artists in the music industry is an opportunity you couldn’t let slip by, especially since the album’s rock-inspired genre aligns closely with your own music taste.

“Thank you so much for helping me get settled __,” Hei-ran’s gentle voice returns you to the present. “I appreciate the time you’ve taken these last few months to train me despite the tight deadlines you have.”

Smiling, you shake your head. “It’s no problem at all and if there’s anything you need in the future, feel free to give me a call or stop by my office.”

“On the 16th floor right?”

“1656A. Take a left off the elevator and walk to the end of the first hallway. The door on the right is mine.”

Referring to any room on the 16th floor as your own is something you don’t take lightly. For one the offices are double the size of any other office spaces in the building. Yours in particular has a giant skyscraper window draped with heavy white curtains. Secondly, the floor above is the 17th floor which is exclusive to Hybe artists only.

"How's the proposal coming along, by the way?" Her curiosity is palpable, genuine in its nature. You’ve always appreciated that in an individual.

“It’s done,” you respond. “Only thing left to do is to prepare for our meeting with C-suite executives next Monday. It’s nearly perfect as is, but the presentation could use a bit of refining in terms of organization.”

Hei-ran is silent for a moment longer than usual before her next inquiry, which is undoubtedly the question on both of your minds. “I can't help but wonder what it'll be like to meet him for the first time,” she muses.

You don’t bother asking for clarification on who the “him” is; you’re already well aware that it’s Min Yoongi. The same subject has managed to intrude your own thoughts more and more as the date of meeting him draws closer. It's peculiar honestly, considering you’ve encountered him before.

Granted, it was only a small handful of times the hallway, both heading in opposite directions. Min Yoongi typically greeted you with a hoarse 'Good Morning' those instances, along with a curt nod of his head. You would nod back with a brief 'Morning' yourself. Deep down you feel he'd make a quality friend, though it's only a premonition. It’s not like you actually know much about him beyond those small exchanges.

"I'm not sure what to expect, honestly," you admit. "I imagine it'll be similar to previous professional collaborations—composed, focused, and intense. D-Day is poised to become a global sensation for the next year, so it's going to need our full, undivided attention."

Hei-ran gives a knowing nod. “Good luck __,” she wishes you well as you head towards the elevator doors. Breaks over, back to work.

After another late-night prep session for Monday’s D-Day proposal, you trudge through your apartment door well past 8:30 pm with an empty stomach and a throbbing headache. Good news is that your graphic design team seems to be well on track with their album mockups ready to present.

The same can’t be said for your U.S. promo team however, who required additional guidance on their projects. The social media team was in a similar boat. Somehow several of their members lost track of time and were convinced the proposal was still two weeks away.

Despite the hiccups, you managed to tie up the loose ends, but it meant that none of you got to leave early.

When you finally get to curl up in your fluffy sofa, a loud, exasperated sigh leaves your lips. Your lids flutter shut too as you rest your head against the soft cushion. Silently, you make one last mental rundown of all the tasks you checked off today.

Did you miss anything?

D-Day is the most crucial project you’ve ever taken charge of—you need it to be flawless.

When nothing pressing comes to mind, you grab the tv remote from your dark oak coffee table and aimlessly flip through the channels. You’ll unwind for an hour and then call it a night.

Ten minutes into an episode of Brooklyn Nine-Nine and the light chime of your phone's notification bell catches your ear.

Tae 💚: Haven’t heard from you all day. Everything alright?

Taehyung, your best friend. You smile fondly at his message as your thumbs hover over the reply button. He's always checking in on you. You and Taehyung have been friends ever since you first moved to Seoul and started working at Hybe. You didn't expect your friendship to become this strong, but both of you are sociable individuals, which led to discovering several unexpected commonalities. One of those is a shared love for jazz, which has been one of your all-time favorite genres for as long as you can remember.

You: yeah, I’m good. Just tired. Been working on D-Day's proposal for months and finally got it fully prepped for.

Tae 💚: Well, that's amazing news! You feel good about it?

You: I don't know. I’m definitely ready for this project but I’m also starting to feel a little burned out. The proposal is only the beginning you know, and it's already taking the wind out of me.

Tae 💚: Sorry to hear that 😞 I'm sure it must be draining, but I also know this is your territory. No one is more fit to head this project than you. Everyone thinks so. How about you take the weekend to rest?

You: Yeah...I'm watching B99 rn

Tae 💚: B99?! Without me?

You can't help but giggle. Somehow over the course of three years you've roped your best friend into becoming obsessed with your mindless sitcoms. You've done more than a handful of binge watching together, until all hours of the night.

You: Wanna come over for an hour?

The company might be nice.

Tae 💚: Be there in 20 🏃

Your door bells rings exactly twenty minutes after you and Taehyng finish exchanging texts. He's so prompt it scares you sometimes.

“Hey.” His deep, baritone voice greets you first, along with a friendly hug. Taehyung slips his snow covered boots off upon entering your apartment and hangs his wool jacket on your coat rack. His limited edition Gucci scarf is next. Taehyung loves the winter as it’s the time he can wear his most luxurious clothes.

“What’s this?” You peak inside a brown paper bag that Taehyung has conveniently set on your kitchen countertop. He flashes you a playful grin and gestures you to open it. Naturally, you're suspicious but it all washes away when a new, unopened bottle of whiskey presents itself. “Oh my god, you didn’t!" You swat his arm in a rush of excitement.

“I had to!" Taehyung opens a kitchen cupboard and grabs a glass from the top shelf. He's been in your apartment enough times that he’s grown comfortable with your place. That and he's also your best friend.

"With all the recent events you've had going on, I think it calls for a celebration." Taehyung expertly pours you a glass of the smooth, rich liquor and offers it to you.

“Thank you, Tae," you say, taking the glass from his hand. "Come sit down. Jake's about to sing I Want It That Way with the police lineup.” Taehyung pours himself a glass of Pinot Noir and follows your lead.

After about forty minutes of sitcoms and booze with your best friend you begin to feel yourself relaxing. Whatever challenges lies ahead, you know you'll be able to handle them one whiskey at a time.

All stream of thought is interrupted when your phone dings off again. It's now half past 9, who on earth is trying to reach you?

Fuck.

You tighten the grip on your phone as soon aa the message appears. Taehyung, previously occupied by the end credit scene, catches the sudden shift in your demeanor and calls your name but he's inaudible to you.

Mom: It’s been almost two weeks since we last heard from you. We know you're busy but your father and I want to know if you’ll be coming home. The holidays are coming up right? Why don't you use some of that time to come see us? There's someone we want you to meet.

"__, who is it?" Taehyung's voice manages to break your intense concentration.

“Just my mom.” You answer briefly, still averting eye contact.

“What’d she say?”

“She wants me to come home for the holidays.” You shut your phone off in an effort to calm yourself.

Unlike Taehyung your relationship with your parents has always been rocky. Expectations are set high from birth and you never see eye to eye. Likely, the only accomplishment that's earned genuine praise from them was when you accepted your initial job proposal with Hybe. A respectable career is only second to health to them after all. Your father was more torn with the news that you’d be moving hundreds of miles away than your mom however, not that you’re surprised.

Of course while having a healthy and respectable career is priority for your parents, there is no mistake that their greatest wish is to see their daughter married. A stable man with ample resources to provide her a secure home and healthy children is preferable.

You love your parents and you'll always be there for them, but you must admit that their traditional outlook is one you can never live up to. They tried setting you up dozens of times before, and tonight's request to have you come home "for the holidays to meet someone” is simply another attempt to marry you off.

Yes, you would like some sort of companionship in your life and you hope if you find it that they’ll approve. But giving your hand in marriage to the first notable suitor isn't your forte. You consider yourself to be an independent woman with a tender heart, and you'd rather be single for the entirety of your life than be forced into another obligation.

Preserving your independence is highly important to you. So no, you draw the line when it comes to relational affairs.

If only you could be firm and repeat all the above to them aloud, rather than within your own head— if only.

“So are you gonna go?"

You don't respond immediately, still weighing out your options. "Not sure," you murmur. "I don't really want to but maybe I should. I haven't gone home to see my parents since last year."

Taehyung recognizes the growing tension in your voice as well as the flushed expression playing on your face. He wishes he could take it all away but instead he moves closer to your side of the sofa and lets you rest your head on his shoulder.

"I'm sorry." He's silent for a moment before continuing. "Why don't you tell them you can't go because of work? There must be a number of things you'll need to get ahead of for Yoongi's album."

"True. But it's too easy, they won't buy that. I have to go."

"What if you say I invited you to celebrate with my family this year? We're going to a nice, cozy cabin a few hours north of here for Christmas."

The offer is temping and you know he means it but it's also not enough.

"No," you reject. "They'll think we're dating and ask to meet you."

"I'll do it!" Taehyung's voice lifts into a more playful tone, earning a soft chuckle from you.

"Very cute Taetae, but no. Neither of us are going to say 'that was a good idea' in the end, trust me. I'll have to make this decision on my own."

Taehyung grimaces slightly at your last choice of words. "I really think you should consider telling them you can't due to a full schedule. We don't get that much time off at the company any way. Don't your parents live at least 7-10 hours away? Come on, spend the holidays with me and the guys. Plus, it'll be my birthday soon. I want you there at my party."

When you look at your best friend to gently scold him for not so sneakily using the guilt tripping technique, he's pouting. Like a baby. Not even you can resist him with that face on.

"Fine. I'll think about it."

"Good," Taehyung chirps and snatches the tv remote to flip through episodes of Brooklyn Nine-Nine. "I want you to be around those closest to you, especially around the holidays. You're my badass best friend who deserves more than some stupid forced marriage to a guy with an unhealthy alpha male complex. Should we top the night off with one more episode by the way?"

You nod and Taehyung hits play on the remote. "Thank you," you coo, feeling a tad better.

The weekend is a blur at best and you’re back at the office before you realize. Of course this is no ordinary work day however, given that today signifies the day you officially start work as D-Day’s marketing director. You’ve been perfecting every detail of the proposal like a madman since the beginning, meticulously obessing over every element. Your new team members must have a pretty eye-opening understanding of what it’ll be like having you as a lead for the next year–you pity them to be honest.

Between your fingers clutches a small tube of lip balm, berry flavored with a faint tint to match. You love chapstick for some odd, inexplainable reason and you felt the need to apply a generous amount of it on your lips for good luck.

“No one’s here yet,” Yi-joon, one of the members of your graphic design team, speaks first upon stepping foot into your assigned conference room. Others hum, unsurprised. Being the ones leading the presentation, you’d be startled if anyone actually arrived beforehand.

A grand mahogany table, seating up to 14 individuals, boasts itself to you in the middle of the room with every chair lined in genuine black leather. Traditional seating arrangements have one chair at the head of the table, but today’s meeting has two, both positioned to face the wide presentation screen at the opposite end.

Undoubtably, they’re reserved for Bang PD and Min Yoongi.

A momentary shiver courses down your spine, yet fades quick when one of your team members asks if anyone's seen the remote to the projector. There’s no time for nerves to be acting up, you remind yourself calmly. Only 15 minutes remain until every C-suite executive in Hybe congregates into the room.

With a composed demeanor, you swiftly gather your thoughts and respond, "Try checking inside the podium. It's likely close by, but if not, we can always power it on manually." You then start delegating tasks to the rest of your team, mentally rehearsing key points of the proposal between each instruction.

Time appears to have vanished in the blink of an eye because in a matter of seconds a gentle breeze slips through the conference door, accompanied by the arrival of several Hybe executives. You offer a polite "good morning," which is briefly reciprocated as they take their respective seats around the conference table.

You count twelve at the table in total, including your own team.

"Sajangnim should be here in about–"

Hybe's Chief Finance Officer doesn't get to finish his sentence when an older gentleman in a freshly pressed suit walks through the door, fully immersed in conversation. The person following close behind him is none other than the man of the hour himself–Min Yoongi, fitted in a clean white dress shirt that's unbuttoned at the collar and sleeves rolled to the elbows. His soft, raven hair falls gently in front of his eyes, framing his face a little too well.

Unexpectedly, both your gazes shift from Bang PD and onto one another. His dark, intense eyes pierce through you as they observe you from the opposite side of the room. You're certain he recognizes you from your previous shared encounters, though you don't have the slightest clue what he's thinking. Min Yoongi has been known to be many things, but an open book isn't one of them.

He then walks in your direction until he's directly toe to toe with you for the very first time. Completely against your wishes, you feel all the tiny hairs on the back of your neck stand straight. You've never officially met before.

"It's nice to finally meet you __-nim. Those nods we give each other in the hallway hardly count as a proper introduction." He extends a hand to you, offering you a sturdy handshake which you accept.

"Absolutely, it's a pleasure to meet you as well Min PD-nim," you say, smiling warmly. "I'm looking forward to working with you on your new album. I truly appreciate the opportunity."

For a split second, Yoongi allows his professional demeanor drop. "I should be the one thanking you. You'll be the one leading this whole operation right? So I'll be in your care."

You want to respond with gratitude, but you're not given the chance due to an authoritative voice speaking up from behind.

"Min PD-nim," Hybe's Vice President calls out to the man in front of you, requesting his attention.

Yoongi is hesitant to leave you mid-conversation but you assure him that it's alright. "Please, feel free to take a seat," you offer. "The presentations will begin soon."

A small, subtle smile graces Yoongi's lips before he turns around to take his seat beside Bang PD at the head of the table. He engages in small talk with Hybe's Vice President who's conveniently seated across from him. Yet despite their conversation, he's only half focused; his eyes repeatedly wandering back to you. At this point, however, you've already stopped looking at him.

"Good morning, all," you address the room when the time comes to commence the meeting. "We'll be getting started now that everyone's here. I'm sending down samples of the album design our graphics team has created for D-Day. Please pass them along." You hand the stack of copies to Hybe's Chief Technology Officer who smiles courteously.

"On behalf of my team and me, I want to thank you for joining us today to discuss our marketing strategy for Min PD-nim's upcoming D-Day album. Our agenda will be as follows," you guide everyone's attention to the presentation board, which provides a rundown of all the points you plan to cover for the remainder of the meeting.

"Let's begin with introductions. My name is ___ ___, I hold a Bachelor's degree in Electrical and Electronics Engineering from NYU Stern, as well as an MBA in Marketing. Over the past five years, I've worked in the music industry as a marketing manager. Three of those years were spent here at Hybe. The recent promotional campaign for TXT's The Chaos Chapter was lead by my previous team and me, resulting in a positive return on investment. Now, with a new team, I aim to achieve similar success with Min PD-nim's D-Day album."

Once you finish your introduction, you introduce each member of your team. This is soon followed by a brief introduction from each c-suite executive.

The whole room falls silent when you begin diving into the bulk of the proposal; every measurable objective, goal, and market analysis is shared for D-Day. When it comes time to present the brand guide and album design, you invite your graphics team to speak.

"You'll notice that we have two versions of Min PD-nim's albums on the sheet in front of you," Yi-joon refers to the mockups you handed out earlier. A few executives nod quietly as they study the proposed album packaging while Yoongi leans over to Bang PD. He's whispering something but you're far to distant away to hear. His expressions aren't telling either.

Does he like it? Does he not? You don't know.

Nevertheless, you give a subtle smile to Yi-joon as encouragement to continue.

 "We've opted for a sleek, pitch-black design for the first version, and a dusty brown for the second. The first version symbolizes the past, characterized by societal expectations and internal struggles, while the second represents the present and future, conveying a message of liberation. To complement these themes, we've selected a bold and daring font to exude the album's transparency. This design consistency extends to the album's contents; for instance, lyrical cards will reflect the respective color and style of the version they belong to."

Hybe's Chief Marketing Officer appears to be in approval with the entirety of the plan so far, yet it's short lived when a low voice interrupts.

"I think the vision of album's design aligns closely with mine, so I like what I see in front of me." Yoongi pauses and places the mockup on the table. "There's one aspect that I'd like to discuss in hopes of some insight however. I've been mauling over it for a while now."

"I'll do my best to–" Hybe's Chief Marketing Officer opens his mouth to respond yet closes it immediately when he notices Yoongi's gaze sharply shifts to you. It's a signal that it's your insight he specifically requests.

"Please go on," you reply.

"Regarding the name under which the album should be released, should it be 'Agust D' or 'Suga'? I'm personally biased towards Agust D because it holds more weight for me. It's close to my heart and the stories I have to tell as Agust D are heavier than those of Suga, right? The D even stands for Daegu, my hometown where I grew up and where my parents still live. Suga on the other hand is my stage name, which I have some identity in as well."

You don't answer immediately, preferring to carefully process everything he's said. Your team has already proposed to release the album under 'Agust D', yet he makes a valid point that 'Suga' is also a part of him.

"I understand that releasing the album under 'Suga' has its merit. However, I still support the original idea of releasing it under 'Agust D'. As you've mentioned, the name carries a deeper meaning, evoking memories, emotions, trials, and tribulations. I'd also like to emphasize that by releasing D-Day under 'Agust D', you can showcase who the real Agust D is. The collaboration with IU in People Pt. 2 already has you one step in that door."

Like you, Yoongi considers your words cautiously, weighing them in his mind. "Thank you ___-nim," he finally speaks. "Your perspective is reassuring. We'll proceed with releasing the album under 'Agust D'.

Following your short discussion, the graphics team continues presenting their design materials. Minor comments are made by Hybe executives, but Yoongi doesn't comment again until half-way into the social media segment.

"Why do we need to schedule this many Weverse Lives? People might get tired of seeing my face after so many in a row. ARMY will read, 'Min Yoongi started a live' and say to their friends, 'This is the fifth time in a row, is he in love with his own voice or something?'." His joke sparks a light in the room as Bang PD gives a chuckle.

"I don't think that's going to be an issue for you Yoongi," he replies. "Don't you know the strength of your own fanbase?" Bang PD's statement is undeniable. Everyone in the room is well aware of Min Yoongi's international fanbase who willingly stay up all hours of the night just to catch a glimpse of him. In fact, rather than seeing less of him, they hope to receive his live notifications more, as Yoongi isn't as active on Weverse as other idols.

It's clear that compliments like these aren't easy for Yoongi to take though, judging by the flushed look that subtly sweeps over his face. You'd react the same way to be honest.

"If I may Min PD-nim," you speak up, deciding to offer an alternative plan. "Leveraging Weverse Live to help promote D-Day will draw significant international engagement. We know that time differences pose to be a challenge which is why we proposed an increase of live sessions per week. However, we understand that going live this often might be exhausting. Would you consider reducing the frequency to once or twice a week instead?"

"I'm open to once a week but didn't we film the 'Suga: Road to D-Day' documentary for a similar reason? Won't it be too much to add more than two Weverse Lives throughout the entire promotional phase?" Yoongi's challenge is met with an unanimous hum of support from his fellow executives. You'd feel intimidated if you didn't already have a justification mapped out.

"The objective behind releasing 'Suga: Road to D-Day' on Disney+ differs from that of Weverse Lives," you rebuttal confidently. "While the documentary presents a structured behind-the-scenes view of D-Day's development, the Lives focus on building hype among your existing fans who know you well, will spread the word to their peers, and will likely pre-order the album. As you're aware, Lives are more personal and stripped down, allowing your fanbase to feel closer to you."

Thinking of no further objectives, Yoongi, still somewhat unsure, accepts your suggestion. "Once a week will be fine then. While we're still on the topic, do we know when 'Suga: Road to D-Day' is set to release on Disney+?"

"Our digital marketing and promo team will be reviewing the specifics of that soon," you inform. "Right now we have the documentary releasing April 23 of next year. The poster for the film will release a week and a half earlier on the 12th."

Rather than furthering the discussion, Yoongi sends an understanding nod your way which allows the social media team to resume their portion of the proposal. Recording more Weverse Lives than usual remains a pain point for him, but he's willing to move forward if it means connecting with his fanbase.

Alast, after what seems like three hours of social media; followed by financing & budget talk, the last team to present their material takes lead of the meeting.

"We'd like to provide a timeline for D-Day's promo schedule as a way to wrap up today's proposal," So-hyun from your digital marketing and promos team explains. "Promotions will begin April 10, 2023 and will run until April 25th. During this time the album's track list, concept photos, MV Teaser, and official MV will drop. As far as concert schedule, we're proposing April 26-June 24. These dates include U.S, Asia, and Korea Tours."

"We might need to rethink concert dates but for now I'm on onboard." Yoongi remains brief in his interjection, allowing So-hyun to continue.

"As far as other marketing channels, we plan to implement both print and digital methods including billboards, banners, paid search ads, and YouTube. We'd also like to reach out to a variety of magazines like Rolling Stones Magazine for interviews. If we want to extend our global reach even further, we can book a time slot on the Jimmy Fallon Show. Bare in mind that if we go this route, we'll need to decide fairly quick, as slots are in high demand."

You notice Bang PD whispering amongst Yoongi and his Chief Finance Officer when Jimmy Fallon is mentioned. Yoongi seems the least interested. Perhaps he isn't fond of being front and center of talk shows, you guess.

"When will we need a decision for the Jimmy Fallon Show?" Bang PD inquires for the group.

"No later than three weeks from now," So-hyun answers. "It's a tight deadline but it can been done if we get the official go."

Bang PD directs his attention to Yoongi who's chosen to be silent in this conversation. "What do you think, Yoongi? It's your call."

"Maybe," he says, "give me a day or two to think on it."

Another ten minutes of productive overview with your promos team pass and soon, you're standing up to adjourn the meeting. You have to admit that out of all the proposals you've given in your career, this goes right to the top.

Your team was phenomenal today, and despite the the fact that several Hybe executives are biting at the bit to finally go on their lunch break, you feel confident that everyone is leaving on the same page.

"Min PD-nim."

You're ears inevitably pick up the conversation in front of you as you make your way out of the conference room. Yoongi and his Chief Financial Officer are running through some quick numbers only a few steps steps ahead, but with everyone simultaneously rushing in the same direction, neither must have realized you were within earshot.

"There's no doubt that she's good at what she does," Hybe's Chief Financial Officer continues. "Still, it's hard to believe that she's only 27 or 28. A person should take better care of themselves don't you agree? Like our Eunchae for example."

If there was a way to erase what you just heard, you'd do so, because in an instant, all previous successes you felt from today's proposal shatters to the ground. You're no stranger to receiving these sorts of comments about your appearance, yet it leaves your confidence fleeting, along with any amount of resilience you've built.

Blinking back the tears that threaten to spill, you exit the conference room the first chance you get. You have no desire to stick around for Yoongi's reply.

Not long after you leave does you phone ring off.

Tae 💚: Hey! How's the meeting going? Still available to get lunch this afternoon? I'm heading to the cafeteria as I type this.

You: It went okay. But I don't think I'll be coming to lunch, just a lot to do. I'm also not that hungry.

You second-guess how convincing your message is, knowing that it's your best friend on the other line. Regardless, it's the only words you can come up with right now. You really do have a lot of work ahead of you though, at least that part is true.

Tae 💚: Are you sure? I was looking forward on hearing how the meeting went! Wasn't there something you had to give me too?

The meaning of the last line suddenly dawns on you as you make your way down the long hallway. How could you forget? You made Taehyung one of his favorite foods to surprise him for lunch; Japchae, a sweet and savory dish of stir-fried glass noodles and vegetables.

You: Right, sorry it slipped from my mind for a second. I'll meet you in the cafeteria to give it to you.

"Why won't you stay and eat with me?" Taehyung devours the homemade Japchae you made for him with delight, a pair of chopsticks clamped in his hand.

"I don't have much of an appetite, Tae."

You've already told him this twice already, clarifying that you'd be heading back to your office once you deliver his food. Evidently, he's not letting you slip away easily.

"Then take a break with me instead, even if it's only for ten minutes." You watch as your best friend swiftly pulls out the chair next to him from under the table, gesturing you to sit. "Tell me what's got you down," he says. "Did Yoongi say something to you? He can be a bit too outspoken with his opinions sometimes."

Feeling defeated, you slide into the chair. "No, the meeting was fine. I'm just overthinking something that happened."

You then proceed to explain what you overheard Hybe's Chief Finance Officer say about you from earlier, that you didn't look healthy enough for your age and using Eunchae as an example. The scowl that appears on Taehyung's face as you retell the incident is unmistakable–he's clearly pissed.

"First of all," Taehyung starts once you finish, jaw clenched. "Eunchae is 17 and is a part of a Korean girl group. She has an entire team dedicated to making sure her appearance is flawless. It's the idol life; trust me, I'm well acquainted with it, so it's not a fair comparison. Secondly, Hybe's CFO is an asshole who I'd replace in a day. I don't want you letting him make you feel insignificant just because you don't conform to his narrow idea of how a woman should look."

You appreciate Taehyung's efforts to cheer you up, though you remain unaffected. Besides, he still isn't aware of Yoongi's involvement since you purposely left that detail out due to their close friendship.

"Yeah, I don't know. We don't have to talk about it anymore." You decide to dismiss the topic entirely and reach for your phone, along with a pair of earbuds bundled in your pocket. "Wanna listen to something?"

Music has always bonded you and Taehyung's friendship, as you've frequently found yourselves fully immersed in timeless songs from King of Leon and Led Zeppelin together. Taehyung nearly accepts the offer to listen with you once again, but then he freezes all movement. An eager grin follows close after.

"Hyung!" His voice echos though the room, earning the attention of Min Yoongi who's just entered the cafeteria. This time, you feel nothing but discomfort when the man looks your way.

"I have some material I need to review from my promo team. I'll text you later, okay?" You leave your best friend no time to reply as you quickly rise from your chair, stick your phone in your pant pocket, and head for the nearest exit. Yoongi attempts to make eye contact with you on your way out, but you avoid it completely.

When he approaches Taehyung, he acknowledges your semi-odd behavior. "I didn't mean to make her leave," he states, joining the younger at the table.

Taehyung offers a light shrug in response. "Don't worry, you didn't. She had other matters to get to. Something with her team members I think."

Yoongi grabs a fresh clementine from a nearby fruit bowl and beings peeling it little by little. "You two must be pretty close if you're having your lunches together."

It's not hard for Taehyung to read between the lines of what his member is insinuating.

"We've been friends for a while," he clarifies. "Just friends, nothing else."

a/n: Hope you enjoyed! Lmk what you think 🥰

Masterlist | Requests: closed | Taglist | Fic Recs

no reposting, copying, or translating my work– © kookslastbutton

[pedrospatch]

bailé con mi ex l (javier peña x female reader)

summary: After a night out at the club with your friends, you confess to Javier that you danced with your ex-boyfriend and he doesn’t take the news too well.

pairing: Javier Peña x Female Reader

warnings: 18+ only, minors dni. Protective, jealous and slightly possessive Javi, he is a lil toxic, but just a smidge I promise; innocent-ish reader; angst, bits of fluff sprinkled in here and there. Not proofread for spelling, sorry!

word count 2.2k

a/n 📝 wooo, Vee finally popped her Javi cherry. testing the waters with this one, I also have a couple prompts from a while back to still write. it is based on a Becky G song, yes I know she and this song did not exist back in the day (I think? Idk what year she was born tbh) but ANYWAY I just really like the lyrics and plus it’s fiction so who cares lmao. Translations at the end ✨

Tú no me creerás, pensarás que hay algo más

es difícil de entenderlo, pero no sería capaz de enganãrte

y si te lo cuento

es porque tengo muy claro lo que siento

It was half past one o’ clock in the morning—you had told Javier you’d be home by midnight at the very latest. But a night out at one of the more popular clubs in Bogotá celebrating a close friend’s birthday meant that none of the girls were going to allow you to leave that early without giving you some kind of shit about it, so you had stayed just a little while longer and tossed back another drink or two before finally calling it a night. Your friends still gave you grief about it, but knowing Javier, he would be worried, especially since cartel violence in the region had begun to escalate over the last several months, worsening to the point where Javi didn’t even like you going out to the produce market all by yourself in broad daylight.

You tried to be as quiet as possible as you pulled your keys out from your purse, fumbling around with them in the dark until you’d finally found the right one to unlock the front door of yours and Javier’s shared apartment. You slipped inside and the moment that you did, the lights flipped on, causing you to whirl around and let out a startled little yelp. 

You turned to see Javier standing there, fully dressed in his jeans and a tight red button up shirt with his set of car keys clutched in hand. “Javi,” You breathed out his name as your hand flew to your chest. You shot him a glare. “Jesus Christ, you scared the hell out of me! What in the world are you doing? Why are you dressed—do you have any idea what time it is right now?”

“Do you have any idea what time it is right now?” Javier retorted, raising an eyebrow at you. Part of him seemed to be upset, but the other part of him seemed more relieved than anything. He tossed his keys down onto the small, hallway table and walked over to you, taking your face between his large hands as he kissed your forehead. He let his lips linger on your skin as he reminded you, “You told me you would be home by midnight, amor. You can’t tell me that and then come home almost two hours later. You know how bad things are out there right now. You could have at least called me to let me know you’d be late.”

“I’m sorry, I know. It’s just that the girls were shoving shot glass after shot glass right into my hands and time just got away from me,” You said, placing both of your hands right over his. Your eyes met his dark brown ones and you flashed him a sincere, apologetic look. “I’m really sorry I didn’t call. I didn’t mean to make you worry, Javi.”

He sighed. “Well, you’re home safe now. That’s all that matters to me.” Javier dropped his hands from your face and led you into the living room. “Can I get you anything, baby? Are you thirsty?”

“Actually, I’d love a glass of water,” You admitted, kicking off your black, high heeled shoes before dropping down onto the supple, brown leather couch. You watched him as he padded over into the kitchen. “I didn’t get as drunk as I thought I would, you know.” You added jokingly, “I think my tolerance for tequila is through the roof now.”

Javi laughed as he pulled a glass from one of the kitchen cabinets; he then filled it with water from the jug he’d pulled out of the refrigerator. “But you still had fun, right?”

“God, I had so much fun,” You told him with a grin. “I danced all night, Javi.”

“With who?” He’d asked the question casually, but you could detect the seriousness behind it. 

Your smile faded slightly.

At first, you hadn’t planned to tell him. But Javier was the love of your life, and you would never dare to keep any kind of secret from him.

Still, you knew he wouldn’t be all too happy with what you were about to confess.

Javier walked back over to you, handing you the glass of water. He frowned, noticing the hesitant expression on your face. “What is it?” He placed his hands on his hips, peering at you curiously. “You didn’t dance with any guys, did you?”

“Just one,” You admitted, softly. 

Javier froze a moment, his shoulders going rigid. 

“What?” Through gritted teeth, he demanded to know, “Who?”

The moment your ex boyfriend’s name fell from your lips, the color drained from Javier’s face. “Are you fucking kidding me right now?”

Setting the glass down on the table beside the couch, you quickly jumped up and held up your hands in defense. “Wait a minute, before you get mad about it, just let me explain—”

“What the hell is there to explain?” Javier nearly growled at you. “That you went to some nightclub and danced with another man? One who happens to be your fucking ex-boyfriend? Es en serio?”

You went up to him, placing a gentle hand on his arm. “Javi, please. Just wait one second—”

He snatched his arm away. “Don’t touch me!”

Your heart sank and you backed away. “Really? You’re not even going to let me explain myself?”

“There’s nothing to explain,” Javier replied coolly. His eyes flickered up and down, giving you a quick once over from head to toe. “I would have never thought that you would be such a—”

Javier stopped himself, knowing all too damn well that he was far too angry to think clearly before letting anything come out of his mouth.

But it was too late.

He could see the hurt that flashed in your eyes. 

“Such a what?” You crossed your arms over your chest, the blood in your veins running frigid. You then raised a knowing eyebrow at him. “Such a whore?”

“I didn’t say fucking that,” he muttered, averting your gaze.

Blinking back the tears that burned your eyes, you roughly shoved past him and went straight into the bathroom. Trembling, you began looking for a clean washcloth so that you could start taking off your makeup.

The sound of the front door slamming violently just a minute or two later caused you to wince.

Certain that Javier was gone, you sank down onto the cold white tile and began to sob.

A couple of hours later into the early morning, you were sitting on your bed in nothing but one of Javier’s shirts. 

You had cried and cried, releasing your emotions until your eyes had gone dry.

You’d hoped Javier would come right back home and talk things out with you, but by the time four o’ clock rolled around, you had given up on that hope. Letting out an exhausted sigh, you were just about to reach out and switch off the lamp on the nightstand next to the bed when you heard the sound of the front door opening and then closing. 

You swallowed harshly as the sound of his footsteps approaching drew closer and closer.

Javier walked into the bedroom, looking surprised to see you sitting there, still awake at this hour. He spoke in a cold tone that let you know he was still upset with you. “I thought you would be asleep by now.”

Even from where he stood, you could smell the heavy stench of cigarettes and scotch all over him.

“I was waiting up for you,” You murmured, quietly.

Javier kicked the bedroom door closed behind him and let out a long sigh. He said nothing else to you as he kicked off his tan boots and began shrugging out of his shirt, tossing it aside.

“Where were you?” You asked him, your small voice breaking through the silence. 

“I needed a drink,” he responded curtly with his back to you.

“We have drinks here, you know.”

“Yeah, well I needed something a lot stronger than what we’ve got.”

Finally, Javier had no choice but to turn around and face you.

The second he did, a fresh tear slipped down the side of your face.

Javier’s stomach sank deeply and the expression on his face immediately softened.

“Bebe—”

You lifted both your hands to your mouth, muffling a broken sob.

“Hell, I’m sorry,” he apologized as he walked over, taking a seat beside you on the bed. He reached for your wrists, gently tugging them away from your face. “Baby, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to get so upset at you, alright?”

“Do you really think that of me? Do you think that I’m a—?” You’d said the word once, but couldn’t find it in yourself to utter it again.

“Of course I don’t, mi vida. I was just angry, I wasn’t even thinking.” He paused, noticing the way you were trembling and reached up to cradle the side of your face in his palm. “Put yourself in my shoes for a second. Wouldn’t you be angry at me if I came home from a late night at the club and told you I had danced with one of my exes?”

“Probably,” You admitted, feeling the envy boil in your lower belly as you thought about him holding another woman in his arms. “But I would have at least given you the chance to explain yourself. I mean, have I ever given you a reason not to trust me, Javi?”

Javier opened his mouth to speak, then clamped it shut.

He’d fucked up.

“Well?” You prompted him. “Answer me, Javier. Have I ever done anything to make you think that you can’t trust me?”

“No.” His hand dropped from your face. He spoke again, guilt lacing his tone. “You’ve never given me one single reason not to trust you.”

You let out a small, shaky sigh and brought your knees up to your chest, wrapping your arms around them. “He was at the club with his friends tonight,” You began to explain to him. You noticed the way Javier stiffened slightly; although you knew he didn’t want to hear about how you had danced with your ex-boyfriend, you decided to continue on anyway. He needed to know. “He came up to me and he said hello. We had a drink together and then he asked me to dance with him.” Unable to help yourself, you let out a small breathy chuckle. “We danced to quite a few songs, actually. It was just like old times.”

Javier’s jaw clenched, his hands curling into fists.

Before he could say anything, you lifted one of your own hands to stop him. “He was a great guy, Javier. We had a good relationship, but it just didn’t work out. It wasn’t meant to be. When we broke up, it was amicable and we wished each other best and now, a couple years later, we both have the best. He’s with someone he loves and I’m with someone that I love too.” You offered him a tiny, watery smile. “I don’t have eyes or space in my heart for anyone else but you, Javier. Seeing him again and dancing with him tonight made me realize that I would never even dare to think about jeopardizing our relationship. I love you more than anything, and I would never do anything to betray you.” 

He stared at you, mouth agape.

Oh, he’d definitely fucked up.

Before meeting you, Javier had never been the kind of man to do relationships—because he’d never known how to do relationships. 

Before you’d walked into his life, all Javier knew was meaningless sex with escorts and informants, one night stands with coworkers—regardless of who he fucked, he had always been able to walk away the following morning without any sort of attachment. It’s what he wanted, or at least, it’s what he’d thought he wanted. 

And then Javier met you. 

You weren’t the type of woman who he’d normally set his sights on. You didn’t walk around almost naked like half the women in Colombia, you didn’t smoke, you rarely ever even cursed and only drank when your friends pressured you into it—you had this kind of sweet innocence written all over you, and normally Javier would never look twice at a woman like you because a woman like you looked for a boyfriend; not a fuck buddy and certainly not a one night stand.

Javier Peña had never been boyfriend material. 

He didn’t know how to be in a relationship.

At least not a healthy one. 

Even now, he struggled to be the partner that you deserved. He met your physical needs without a single problem, but your emotional needs were something of a challenge for him. Still, Javi loved you with every fiber of his entire being and he was more than willing to keep on trying to be the man you needed him to be in every way possible. 

“I’m sorry,” Javier murmured again after a while. He reached out, placing his hand on your bare thigh. “I am so sorry, baby. Perdoname, preciosa. Please.”

You placed your hand on top of his, giving him another little smile. “Of course I forgive you, Javi.”

Relieved, he leaned in, pressing his lips against yours. As he began to deepen the kiss, his hands reached out, tugging at the hem of his shirt were wearing.

“Javi, it’s four in the morning,” You giggled against his lips.

Javier chuckled. He pushed you back against the pillows and swung his leg over to climb on top of you. “When has that ever stopped us before?”

“True,” You grinned up at him before pulling him down towards you for another kiss.

;Translations

lyrics:

You might not believe me, you’ll think there’s something more

it’s difficult to understand, but I could never betray you

if I’m telling you this, it’s because I know exactly how I feel

fic:

amor - love

es en serio? - are you serious?

bebe - baby

mi vida - my life

perdoname, preciosa - forgive me, precious girl

[jae-bummer]

Un-Breaking Up

Request: i’m not sure if your request are still open honestly it’s my first time requesting ever. do you think you could do one of 10, and 13 with changbin, they were exes and something happened either one could say 10 and then they get stuck together, idk this was a big brain fart

Prompt:

10) “Was it worth it?”

13) Oh no! There's only one bed!

Pairing: Stray Kids Changbin x Reader

Genre: Angst (with a happy ending)

Song rec as you read: Top or Cliff - KIM SEJEONG

.

"What do you mean there's only one room left?" you hissed into your cell phone.

"They overbooked for the weekend," Chan sighed on the other end of the line. "We reserved the rooms when you and Bin were still together."

"And I told you I would pay the extra to get my own room," you groaned. This could not be happening.

When you had agreed to go on this friend-cation, you had been blissfully wrapped in the throes of love.

Now, you were stranded at the airport with a headache and an ex-boyfriend hailing a cab.

"It would have been nice for you to tell me he was on the same flight by the way," you scoffed.

"You literally booked the flights together-"

"You said he was going to change them to come in earlier! With you!"

"I thought he was!" Chan gasped. "Look, if you can't suck it up and be an adult for five minutes-"

"It's a twenty-minute drive," you pouted.

"And rooms are already sorted, so you guys are just going to have to figure it out," he sighed. You could almost hear him, miles away, shaking his head in disappointment.

"Can't he like...stay on your pull-out couch?" you hedged. "I'm sure your partner won't-"

"Oh, they will very much mind," Chan chuckled. "Plus, Changbin paid his portion just like everyone else. He's not getting downgraded to my loveseat."

"He's small enough to fit damn near anywhere," you muttered.

"Y/N," Chan said slowly, careful to keep his annoyance reigned in. "We'll see you soon, okay?"

"Just say you hate me," you complained. You knew you were being dramatic, but you were in too deep to turn back now. It really wasn't your intention to be a brat, but you and Changbin hadn't seen each other in weeks. Your friends had inadvertently become children of divorce, so you knew Chan didn't deserve the grief you were giving him.

"If by hate you mean love," he said cheerfully. "Now get your butt here. I'll see you in the morning."

Rolling your eyes, you hung up the call and shoved your phone in your pocket. Turning on your heel, you marched over to where Changbin was shoving suitcases into the back of a taxi.

"Everything okay?" he huffed, pushing the very last of the luggage into the trunk. "What did Chan say?"

"That you've been invited to sleep on his pullout couch," you smiled brightly.

"Y/N."

"They couldn't get us separate rooms," you muttered, crossing your arms. "And we have to make do."

Changbin's eyebrows shot up. "I'll pay the difference."

"Tried that," you sighed. "They literally have no more room."

"They always have more room," Changbin grumbled, yanking his phone out of his pocket. "Even if it's an executive suite."

"By all means," you hummed, sliding into the back of the waiting car. "If you think you can do something literally no one else could, go ahead."

Choosing not to acknowledge your comment, Changbin joined you in the backseat. Careful to keep a sufficient space barrier between the two of you, he informed the driver of your destination before getting on the phone with what you assumed to be the hotel concierge.

No matter how charming he could be, the fifteen minutes he spent on the phone yielded no results. As he hung up, you could see how ruffled he was. Leaning his head against the window of the taxi, he slowly exhaled.

"Let me guess?" you remarked. "No matter how much money you threw at the problem, it didn't work?"

Taking a deep breath, he swiveled toward you. "I was just trying to help-"

"No one asked," you said sharply. "I tried to fix the problem and couldn't. So did Chan. I don't know why you thought you could come in and save the day-"

"You used to like it when I saved the day," he bristled.

You knew you weren't being fair and simply picking at him just for the sake of picking. "I used to like you in general, but here we are."

Changbin closed his eyes and leaned back into the seat. Luckily, the hotel was already coming into sight. Unluckily, you would still be stuck together for the next few days.

.

"Shit," Changbin said, stepping into the hotel room.

Yanking your suitcase over the lip of the door, you made your way into the room, stopping just behind him. "What-"

The words were erased from your tongue as you took in your surroundings. The room was gorgeous, and admittedly, pretty romantic. You were greeted by a small seating area and a low table decorated with rose petals and snacks. Looking further into the room, you could see you had your own private pool outside, intimate and moody with low lighting. The thing you had avoided recognizing though was perhaps the most obvious.

There was only one bed.

"Perfect," you croaked, completely exhausted by this whole situation. "Absolutely perfect."

"I could try to-"

"My guess is," you said slowly. "That they are so fully booked, that they won't be able to move us to a room with two queens."

"But you don't know that for sure," he said with a small nod, trying to convince himself. "I'll go to the front desk."

"Knock yourself out," you sighed, leaning against the wall to begin sliding slowly down it. It was time to accept defeat. "Better yet actually knock yourself out."

Changbin shot you a dirty look as he yanked the door open and disappeared from sight.

Too bad he was back within ten minutes.

"Let me guess," you smirked. "They are fully booked and won't be able to move us to a room with two queens?"

"You don't have to gloat," he pouted, plopping on the edge of the bed. Looking helplessly around the room, his focus landed on the two armchairs in the seating area (very much not a normal, pull-out couch.) "I can just make a pallet on the floor."

You felt a small pang in your chest. As much as you didn't want to admit you had any threads of care left for the man in front of you, you did. And unfortunately, you didn't want to condemn him to sleeping on the floor. "That wouldn't be fair to you."

"It is what it is," he sighed. "And I'm not going to subject you to laying in a bed with me when you don't even want us to be in the same room."

"Stop being dramatic," you scoffed, totally projecting. "We can make a pillow barrier. Plus, I really don't want to hear you complain and make me into the bad guy."

"Y/N," he groaned. "It's not like that."

You chewed on your lip, knowing it wasn't. Changbin had honestly been much more charitable than you had even tried being since the two of you had broken up. You had pinned most of the reasons for separating on him, so maybe he had taken it to heart.

Choosing to ignore his protests, you began to unpack instead. Leaving the top two drawers in the dresser open for him (a habit from when you were dating) you silently moved your clothing and essentials to various parts of the room.

"Do you mind if I shower first?" he asked. His tone was careful, as if he was waiting for you to explode.

You hated it.

"Go for it," you answered.

He moved quietly toward the bathroom, leaving you with only your thoughts as you heard the click of the lock.

Moving toward the bed, you shoved your face into a pillow to let loose a mix between a groan and scream. Sometimes it just helped to make nonsensical sounds when you were feeling frustrated.

It was difficult being around Changbin again. Even though the two of you had broken up, there were feelings there. You had been so desperately in love with him at one point, you just assumed you would be a little bit in love forever. You thought the two of you had been bulletproof, but in one evening of anger, you managed to break both your heart and his (and still clung to the rationalization that it was all his fault).

You knew who he was when you had started dating. Seo Changbin, member of Stray Kids, producer in 3racha, gym rat, and lastly, boyfriend. All of those things came first, and you were so, so tired of being the last checkbox on the list. After being cancelled on for maybe the hundredth time because there was some sort of work emergency, you had had enough. His things were waiting in boxes when he had eventually shown up, and you had endless reasons for why you didn't want to continue forward.

When he begged, you had shut him down. Looking back now, you knew it was because you were afraid. It was easier to have a hard break than admit that you were both flawed people who weren't trying hard enough. It was easier than actually making the effort and being uncomfortable. You werent't ready for that advanced level of vulnerability.

Changbin was one of the softest and squishiest individuals you had ever met, which made it even harder. Any form of neglect he had stumbled into subjecting you to had never came with a hard edge. When he apologized, he was genuinely sorry. He was too good and pure to have to deal with you being upset over something he loved. He dreamt of being an idol before he even knew you existed. It would be the best for both of you if you just stopped interfering in his success.

Maybe the thing that hurt you the most though was seeing how it seemingly didn't affect him. He continued forward like nothing had happened, even treating you as a friend whenever you happened to run in the same circles. That was when you decided you couldn't like him, even if you loved him. It was easier to be annoyed than show how hurt it made you.

It was sick to say that you had wanted him to be just as miserable and lost as you were.

As you heard the water cut off, you pushed your face away from the pillow and took a deep breath. It was just a quick trip. You could be cordial for the sake of your friends.

You heard him before you saw him. With the phone glued to his ear, he was chuckling at someone on the other line. It was difficult not to ogle at the water droplets still decorating his shoulders and collar bone, even though he was technically fully dressed in a tank top and shorts.

"We need to redo the guide," he instructed. "I might be able to break away for a little bit and record something.

Yes, I know I'm on vacation, but we're already behind."

After a few more minutes of arguing, he hung up, and tossed his phone onto the bed.

You couldn't help yourself. "Was it worth it?"

"Hm?" he asked. You knew he had to pull himself out of his own thoughts before he could address yours.

"Was it worth it?" you repeated, crossing your arms.

"The shower?" he asked, lifting his brows and smiling his patented one-sided smirk. "Absolutely."

"No," you croaked. "Working. On vacations, in what's supposed to be your free time. Was it all worth it?"

He plopped on the edge of the bed, keeping his back to you. "We're talking past - past tense here...aren't we? Not the call I was just on."

Your silence was answer enough.

"I like to think it was," he said quietly, tilting his head to the side as he made a hissing noise to reprimand himself. "But as days go by, the more and more I wonder if I was wrong."

You chewed on your lip, not at all knowing what answer you had expected, but that wasn't it.

Looking over his shoulder, he slowly pivoted his body to face yours. His expression softened as he said quietly, "Is that why you hate me?"

Your jaw dropped open as you floundered for one of your knee-jerk, cutting responses. His face conveyed such helplessness.

"...I don't hate you, Changbin," you said quietly. Surely, he had to know that.

"I don't think I would blame you if you did," he chuckled sadly. "I put just about everything before you, didn't I?"

"It wasn't a matter of putting things before me," you said slowly. "It was a matter of putting things before us. We were supposed to be a team."

The old adage that time heals all wounds was at least proving itself to be slightly true. It was definitely easier to speak on how you were feeling now that you had put some space between yourself and the initial confrontation.

Changbin nodded slowly. "I wanted to be better."

You tried to take the ice out of your tone. "I did too."

"Then why didn't we try?" he asked, looking toward you with watery eyes.

You tried to focus on your breathing. If Changbin cried, you were absolutely going to cry.

"I thought...I thought that I had done so badly as a boyfriend," he continued. "And that's why you treated me like I was an inconvenience once we broke up."

"You were an inconvenience," you grumbled. "Only because I was still so upset...and you were acting like everything was okay between us."

"I don't know how to act otherwise!" he contended. "We broke up and I still loved you. Treating you any other way would have hurt my heart, and I'm too selfish to do that on top of what was already done."

"Huh," you hiccupped, feeling the tears come despite your best efforts. "I really goofed, didn't I?"

"What do you mean?" he asked, furrowing his brows.

"I was the one who did the breaking up, Bin," you said quietly. "I tried to tell myself I shouldn't feel bad because it was your fault. You were the one who was always gone, but I didn't try to talk to you about it. I let it become this completely...other thing inside of me. It was like every time you cancelled, I added it to this stack until it finally tumbled over."

"But I should have realized on my own," he asserted, standing up to move closer to you. Dropping to his knees in front of you, he gathered your hands in his. Looking up through his lashes, you could see the toll the last few months had taken on him.

You were foolish to think he wasn't suffering in the same way you were.

"We can blame ourselves all day," you sniffed, finally letting the tears run over your cheeks. "But it doesn't change the fact that we broke up...and now we're here."

"So we un-break up," he mused, saying it as if it was the simplest thing in the world.

"Un-break up?" you muttered.

"Mhm," he hummed, easing up from his knees to sit beside you. Wrapping an arm around your shoulders, he tucked you into his side.

"It's not that easy," you hiccupped, shaking your head but making no attempt to untangle your body from his.

"Who says it can't be?"

"We're different people now, Bin," you maintained. "Do we even know if we can be that safe space for each other? It ended so poorly last time, and-"

"Because we let it!" he argued. "But we know now-"

"Do we?" you interrupted. "We don't actually know how to fix what happened. We walked away."

"And here we are, walking back," he chuckled, shaking his head. "We can try, really try...if you think it's worth it."

You chewed on your lip, looking toward him. His eyes were still a little puffy from his brief crying episode, but it was definitely the same Bin you had fallen in love with months ago. His dark hair was beginning to dry in its signature messy curls, and his even darker eyes watched you carefully. There was a fire there that had been extinguished for so long, seeing it again caused your heart to skip a beat. Now that you had opened the door, he would push as hard as possible to make his way back in.

"Y/N?"

"I may not be worth it," you laughed grimly. "But I know you are."

"I didn't know we were throwing a pity party," he teased. "I should have bought streamers."

"I take it back," you grumbled. "You aren't worth it."

Changbin's grin was wide as he wrapped his other arm around you and squeezed you tightly. "Of course, you're worth it, silly."

"So we're doing this," you whispered into his bare shoulder. The smell of his shower gel was still heavy on his skin, encouraging you to inhale deeply. For the first time in weeks, you felt at home.

"Hell yeah we are," he chimed. "We're going to do the shit out of this."

You laughed as you pulled away from him. You wanted to look into his eyes. He needed to understand.

"Starting now, we both promise to do better," you nodded slowly. He nodded along, eyes wide. "Which means, do you really have to work while you're here?"

He smirked, letting out a small chuckle. "Starting now, I am going to be so present in this relationship, you're going to get sick of me. You'll be begging for me to go to the studio."

"Somehow I doubt that," you sighed, lifting a hand to cradle his jaw. He tilted his face, nuzzling your palm before dropping a soft kiss there. "But I'm excited to see you try."

[gretavanlace]

Sugar II (part 9)

Jake Kiszka x reader

18+ only! Minors do not interact!

Warnings: graphic sexual content, angst, language, the tiniest amount of alcohol consumption, digital penetration, masturbation, oral sex (fem rec), anal play, unprotected sex, etc

Okay, sweet peas, we’ve got one more chapter to go (maaaaybe two idk), but all your favorites will be back! Plus an epilogue. Thank you so much for sticking with me after I did sugar jake so dirty the first time around ❤️

The air is lush and fragrant with herbs, sizzling eggs, and Jake when you wake - though his side of the bed has already cooled.

He’s all around you. Clothes and scuffed boots tossed about the room. Guitar case propped open sans Gibson - where has she gone? The scent of his skin clinging to yours. The gentle bustle of him milling around in the kitchen. You roll over and shamelessly bury your face in the pillow he rested his pretty head upon last night. Drawing him in with a shiver of content…he is home and you are basking in the comfort that is the great return.

He’s humming something to himself, and though you can barely hear - and you certainly can’t place the song - you try to hum along, laughing quietly to yourself when it comes out sounding muddled and strange as you search for a melody you don’t know.

It doesn’t matter. If he’s humming, you want to hum along. You’d like to walk beside him always, twisted and tangled together like a silken braid of devotion.

Seduced by his silly siren’s song, your feet hit the floor as you search for something to throw on. You settle on the black blazer he’s tossed over the back of a chair and pad down the hallway. Lulled and lured by his quiet chaos.

You find him, back to the doorway, gingerly shaking a pan with one hand and tossing what looks to be diced veggies with the other, totally at ease and at home. A gorgeous, disheveled chef complete with yesterday’s sweats, t shirt that’s torn at the neck, and tangled hair.

Should you stand and watch him awhile? It sounds tempting…to watch him work, a sneaky, head over heels fly on the wall. The way he moves, every shift of muscle is intoxicating. Yes, you are bewitched, but even standing here bathed in his presence, you miss him, and that wins out.

”Morning, Jakey,” you smile, breaking his concentration.

”There’s my sugar,” he tosses you a look over his shoulder that stops your heart. “I’m making you breakfast, my love. Would you like coffee or tea?”

Bare feet dancing over chilled tile, you wrap your arms around his waist and rest your cheek between his shoulder blades, “Whatever you’re having.”

He backs up a little, no doubt worrying about your arms - though they are protected by his jacket - being too near to the stove, and turns, pulling you closer while walking you backwards towards the island, “How about we share a cup of tea? You hungry?”

Flashes of memories burn through your brain…last night, in the foyer wrapped up together on the floor while he kissed your body and wept. On the couch while you talked about how exactly this all might work. Later, in a bed that wasn’t yours, in sheets you wouldn’t wash.

You should be thoroughly sated, but yes…you are hungry.

”How’d I get so lucky, little girl?” His lips curve into a grin that derails your thoughts and replaces them with something much softer. Your heart is weak for the look in his eyes…the unapologetic, worshipful love that blazes there. “How did I manage to earn this?”

”Earn what?” You smile back, praying that the emotion pounding in your heart is as evident in your gaze as it is in his, “Us?”

His eyes duck away with a shy nod, “I just never thought I’d have you like this again. In my arms, not going anywhere. Staying.”

Your fingertips are at his cheeks, sweeping over the perfect warmth of his skin, soft as air, “Jake, you didn’t earn anything. You’ve always held my heart.”

Still unwilling to meet your gaze, he rests his forehead on your shoulder. “You took it away.”

”No,” you argue in a hush. Can he really not see? “I left it with you. You’re the only reason it beats, anyway. But if you don’t feed me soon, I fear I may perish.”

”Drama queen.” He grins, pecking your cheeks each in turn, grateful that you’ve eased his mind and calmed his tender nerves.

The kettle begins to scream and you patter off to the table tucked into the corner, homey and quaint, to watch him work to take care of you. Soon, you’re gifted a steaming mug along with another kiss dropped atop your head. “Splash of rum and a sprinkle of cinnamon, sugar. It’s 9 o’clock in the morning, you lush.”

”Trying to get me drunk so you can take advantage of me, Jake?” You tease back, watching as he moves to finish things up at the stove, throat seizing with aching affection…he remembers how you take your tea.

”I don’t have to get you inebriated for that,” he sounds gravelly and full of himself, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. “I could fuck you however and wherever I so felt the inclination, my lovely little doll, and you would grace me with your gracious and enthusiastic appreciation.”

You bat your lashes wildly at him as he presents two plates heaped with brightly colored, expertly sautéed vegetables and fluffy, scrambled eggs like cheery, sunny clouds. A bowl of swollen, fuschia raspberries deposited between your plates like a pile of sweetened jewels steals the show. “Oh, be still my heart…you know how I enjoy it when you speak like a dictionary.”

”I know, sugar,” there’s that beaming smile of his again as he offers you a berry, lightly teasing it at your lips until you open up for him. “plenty more where that came from.”

A comfortable quiet sparks to life as you both dig in and pass the teacup back and forth. He finally breaks it, speaking up around a bite of potatoes and peppers. “I spoke to Josh this morning.”

”And how is your missing piece?” You quirk an eyebrow over the top of the cup you have now commandeered.

He leans back in his chair and settles his gaze upon you, clocking your expression closely, searching for a reaction. “Obnoxious as ever. He’s annoyed with me because I haven’t looked over the lyric revisions he sent me, and I certainly couldn’t care less if I actively tried. However, he’s very excited to see you. Cross though he might be with his dear brother.”

”Hello, Oliver,” you wink, “Let’s have Jacob back, shall we?”

You haven’t forgotten Jake’s tendency for trotting out Mr. Reed when he’s dipping a toe or two into the waters of vulnerability.

“Do you miss him?” He asks quietly, “Do you want things to be the way they were before? Because I can live with that if it means you’ll stay.” He rushes on as if he fears he may lose his nerve. “I want you to be happy, whatever it takes, I just want you to be happy.”

Fork clinking lightly against your plate as your focus zeros in on his lovely face, you lean forward and reach for his hand “Did he tell you he came to see me? After I ran into Danny that day?”

His fingers slip into your waiting palm with a soft squeeze, “He mentioned that he found you and asked you hide away until we’d gone. I’ve never wanted to hurt him as badly as I did then. Not even when we were young and stupid. Not even that night, when he forced me to let you go.”

“He was only trying to protect you, jake.” Your head tilts, watching residual pain flare to life in his eyes. “I’ve done a great many things to hurt you, it’s a wonder he doesn’t hate me for it.”

“He could never hate you, sugar. Don’t say things like that, it would break his heart to hear them.” The conviction in his words is fierce, and that makes sense…they share a life force at times, it seems.

“He did ask me to hide away, yes…” you nod, wrapping your free hand around his knuckles, warming his touch with your own, “But did he tell you anything else about our visit? Did he tell you how easy it was for us? How we caught up and laughed and looked at each other like very old friends that had been lost to each other for too many years?”

His shoulders tense as though he’s bracing for a gentle impact, but on you march, whispering to him in this unfamiliar kitchen that feels fat full of love.

”Did he tell you that it didn’t even hurt, our being in the same room with everything so fucking different? Did he know that all I could do was sit there, falling silently apart and searching for you in his eyes?”

“But you loved him.” Now it’s his turn to search your eyes, but for what you’re not sure. “I don’t want you to have to tamp that out. Not ever. You love so beautifully, sugar. I can share.”

”I did love him,” you nod. “Very much. A long time ago. I love him still. Differently. And not the way I love you. I have never loved anyone the way I love you. You don’t have to share. Not anymore.”

His grip is pulling at you now, tugging you to your feet and into his arms, creaking the worn wood of his chair beneath the weight of you both as he buries his face into your bare chest, hiding his tears in the lapels of his blazer as he weeps into your skin.

“Shh, baby,” you soothe, stroking through his hair, holding onto him as he clings to you as if you might vanish like a sigh.

His face tilts upward, lips brushing over your chin and jaw, licking and tasting you through his tears. “I love you, sugar. Sometimes I feel like all this love I have for you is just going to break me into pieces, like I can’t hold it all inside. There’s no room for it. I’m too small.”

”Jake,” you feel like you could break into pieces right alongside him as he begins tugging his jacket away from your shoulders.

He shakes his head, hushing you silently, “So, I’m going to take all this love and I’m going to give it all to you. And I’m gonna fill our house with it, press it into the walls and let it seep into the floorboards. Every nail and every window is going to feel it. The pipes and hinges. The chimney is going to breathe it into the night when we light fires in the winter. And we’re going to have babies and I’m going to love them just as much, and I can’t wait to watch you love them…”

You feel baptized in his tears and the wet, warm press of his mouth as he tattoos beautiful promises into your flesh. How could you ever have believed that you wanted anything other than this?

“I’m going to exist for you every single day, sugar…” a sob escapes him, though he tries so hard to bite it back, “I already do…I always have.”

“I know, baby…it’s okay,” you’re kissing adoration into his hair, combing your fingers through the tangles, coddling him and cooing the softest endearments, desperate to mollify his soul, fraught to offer him peace. “Please don’t cry, jakey. You know I can’t stand it.”

Hearing his own words lilting off of your tongue, he pauses and gazes up into your eyes like he sees everything he’ll ever need in them, “When I said that to you, I wanted to disappear. I wanted to be…gone. I didn’t want to live in a world where you wore his ring on your finger with tears in your eyes. Will you miss him?”

Should you lie? Perhaps. But wouldn’t he see the untruths lying bare? Wouldn’t that hurt even worse? Your deception?

“Yes,” you nod, petting him as he presses in closer, “he was kind to me, and sweet. He made me laugh. He made me half-way happy enough to pretend. I’ll miss him sometimes…but never enough to look back and regret chasing after you.”

“I’m glad he was kind to you,” he whispers, kissing a drunken, winding path across the tops of your breasts, “you deserve kind. He loved you, I could see that. I didn’t want to, but I could. And maybe I hated that, but I would have hated the alternative so much more. I’m sure he loves you still.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that,” you laugh softly, “he wasn’t very pleased with me.”

“That’s where you’re wrong, sugar,” he stares up at you with eyes laced heavily in adulation, “you don’t leave a man alone so easily. You linger and overstay your welcome in the worst way. Learn to leave a room, sweetheart.”

He has pulled another laugh out of you, louder and bell like this time…it twists his heart with heated, pulsing adoration.

”Jake,” you pause, waiting for him to give you his honey brown eyes, “You were right when you said none of it matters. This matters.” Your palm finds your heartbeat for a moment, and then his own.

”I know, my love…” tears skate along his lash line like blissful, shimmering quartz, “I know.”

~

His mouth is at your throat, gentle hand splaying out across your abdomen, holding you down against the cool, polished wood of the table.

Fingers playing at your lips, he breaks a raspberry apart between his fingers before sweeping it over your waiting tongue. “You’re so beautiful, sugar. Aren’t you? Aren’t you my pretty, pretty girl?”

His shirt has landed on the tile, forgotten and worthless to this task at shaking hand.

“Yes,” nails digging into his shoulders to remind him of where you’ve been, of where your touch belongs, you nod fervently beneath his kiss, “I’m your pretty girl, Jakey. I’m your girl.”

Lips beginning a path up your cheek to your temple, he hums euphorically and grasps at your ankles, tugging gingerly until your heels are resting on the table. “Will you show me?” His voice is silken and inquisitive, tongue fluttering over your earlobe to bring chills to life inside you. “Hmm? Will you show me how pretty you are for me?”

”Anything,” you pant, arching away from the table, desperate to be closer to him as he pulls back.

You watch on, body throbbing and screaming for him while he pops a raspberry into his mouth and settles back into his chair, legs spread wide, hands fisted into flexing balls at his knees, “Touch yourself for me, sugar. Rub your sweet little clit, nice and slow, just for me.”

Maybe you’d like to say your body protests, maybe you ought to say that you shy away, maybe if you weren’t so indescribably in love with him you’d do both of those things, but as it stands….

….as it stands, you give him what he’s asked for without thought. There isn’t a breath of hesitation. You simply roll two fingers over your tongue, reach down between your thighs, and begin.

The hushed moan that tumbles off the tip of your tongue tugs a sigh from his lungs that sets you further on fire. He sounds so beautiful, so wholly under a spell that you can’t fathom having the ability to cast over this deity of a man.

“There’s my good girl,” he is so quiet, you’d scarcely hear him were your focus not so completely honed in on jake jake jake, “Does that feel good, little girl? Is my sugar making that pretty pink pussy feel just so nice?”

He is an obscene angel staring you down with snarled hair and wicked sin in his wild eyes.

A trembling sound is all you’re able to manage as your touch dips inside yourself to draw slick back up to your clit.

”Yeah?” he tilts his head, watching you reverently, “It looks like it does. You’re dripping all over the table. I want to lick it up.”

“Please,” your fingers circle faster, but something is missing. He, close though he might be, is missing.

”Please, what?” He sounds as needy and hungry as you feel. “Tell me what you want me to do to you and I’ll do it, baby. Whatever you want…I’ll fucking do it.”

”Your mouth,” your legs spread wider until your hips protest, and then you spread a little wider in offering. “I’d like to have your mouth please, Jakey. Please. lick me, please, please.”

A groan rumbles out of his chest like pained thunder as he wraps his arms around your thighs, tugging you in and burying his mouth exactly where you’ve so politely begged for it. Another anguished sound pushes from his lungs as he drinks down his first mouthful of you.

The tip of his tongue teases over your shivering clit, and then slinks down to dip inside you, and then down farther still to lap against that heavenly little spot where it shouldn’t be.

He hums against you while you whine and yank at his hair, pulling his kiss in closer as your hips lift away from the wood you’re making such a mess of.

“Fuck,” your fingers lace through his hair perhaps just a bit too tightly, but a quiet grunt signals his appreciation, “right there.”

“I know where you like my mouth every now and then, sugar,” his words are hot against you as his thumb slides, warm and thick, inside your cunt “Dirty girl.”

Watching you shy away so endearingly squeezes at his chest. You have always given yourself to him so completely. You have always been his girl. His mouth has known every breathtaking inch of your body in a hundred different lifetimes. His heart has known your heart in a thousand more.

Your fingers search out your clit, neglected and crying out for attention, completing that lovely trifecta as you rock your hips, fucking his face without shame.

He is yours and you will take him.

Your belly is burning, white hot and tight, coiling and churning as your body begins to tremble and flush.

“Gonna cum…” A complete sentence seems an impossible task “I— oh, please, please, please,”

His fingers replace his thumb with a feral growl low in his throat, tucking up in behind your clit as you watch his arm begin to move rhythmically below the table.

”Don’t cum,” you order through whimpers and whines that sound anything but authoritative. How difficult it proves to be to be bossy when his tongue is warm and wet where you shouldn’t adore it so damn much.

”I won’t,” his promise is beautifully muffled. “But I want you to do it. Cum for me, fuck doll…give it up pretty.”

You tighten deliciously around his searching tongue and delving fingers as it crawls through you like sinking into a warm bath that swirls with glittering, lilac goldfish. They kiss your skin soft as monarch wings; strange, swimming beings in the waters that are Jacob. It is lovely, though given the filth that has ushered you into this state, maybe that makes no sense.

He works you carefully until your breathing begins to stutter and gasp uncomfortably, and then there is his striking and stunning face - cheeks blazing with desire - kissing and licking up your body as you squirm languidly.

“Was that good, baby?” His teeth are dragging against the swell of your breast now, igniting a fire within you anew.

Jacob, always so cocksure and confident, sounds famished for your approval. How strange.

You hand it over willingly and honestly, on a silver platter of affection, “So, good, Jakey…I love you so much.”

“You taste like fucking candy everywhere,” his praise is little more than a whispered murmur as he buries into the crook of your neck, “I want you in my mouth and under my fingertips forever, for fucking always.”

The tip of his cock, full and hot like velvet, sweeps across your entrance, teasing inside just a breath before pulling back and then nudging in all over again.

“Put it in,” your fingers are clawing lazily at his hips, silently trying to guide him into action, “Fuck Jake, please baby, just slip it inside and—“

He grinds his hips forward, cutting you off, filling you up, pulsing and slick and hot and…

”My girl,” his words are humid at your throat as he whimpers through a physical shudder. “My sugar, my love. That’s my baby, that’s it…taking it so well. You feel so fucking good.”

His wandering fingers find and sweep over your clit with a glide as sweet as satin, and it has you clenching down around him so wildly his eyes snap shut with a furrowed brow, mouth hanging open in a silent moan.

Buried to the hilt now, those eyes lull open to stare down where your bodies connect. “Looks so pretty stretched around my cock. How’d this little cunt ever get so beautiful?”

Your cheek turns to meet the cool of the oak you're draped across, embarrassed in the most blissful way, but he is positively weak for the way his words cause your thighs to tighten around his waist.

His name begins to burn out of your lungs, smoking into the sun-soaked kitchen like a prayer.

”That’s it,” he sounds faraway, like he’s crooning to you from across the room, “My name, sugar…always my name.”

And then, there is his thumb, soaked in your need and brushing against that spot just below where his cock is dragging in and out of your cunt.

A wanton cry for more bleeds out of you, bringing forth another knit of his brow as he sinks inside you to follow the deep thrust of his cock, “‘Oh my’, right sugar? Isn’t that how my fuck doll reacts? All sweet like a lady, to being filled up so full?”

His loving, mocking tone snatches you back full circle to that very first night with him that seems so long ago…he has been all you’ve ever wanted, ever since. He is all you will ever want.

He is every direction, the night and the day, every song ever written…every poem ever wept onto pages, every star that will light the skyline tonight and all the ones that came before. He is every beat of your pulse, every breath in your lungs - and when you breathe your last, it will be his name on your lips.

White explodes behind your eyes as fireworks detonate down deep inside you, sparkling a crackling-like frenetic energy throughout your nervous system until you are tightened up and writhing with it…cumming so hard, so fucking hard, that you nearly force his beautiful cock right out of your body.

He follows your lead and pulls away, tugging at himself violently as you shower down over him like the filthiest, most exquisite drops of summer-of-love rain.

“Oh fuck, sugar, please,” he’s whining as his release lands hot and frantic against your quivering stomach, but for what, neither of you know.

You’re lost in his faraway expression, watching him fight for a deep breath as you search for your own composure when your fingers sweep through a milky ribbon painted across your navel…you want to taste him, but his grip is wrapped firmly around your wrist in an instant, with your fingers nestled against his cashmere tongue.

“I’ll clean my pretty girl up myself, if she doesn’t mind.” His mouth brushes soothingly at your hip just before he begins licking up his own release, eyes cast upwards to your own as you shake, stunned and blissfully shellshocked.

At last, you find your voice as his bubblegum pink tongue curls over the last drop, “You taste good, don’t you, Jakey?”

“Not as good as you, sugar,” His mouth is on yours now, kissing far too sweetly for what you know him to be capable of. “not even close.”

“Shower?” He pops another raspberry into your mouth and then nuzzles against your nose.

”Bath.” You correct, nearly melting into the table beneath his love.

~

A sponge, fresh out of its package and now smothered in body wash, drags across your chest as his chest rests against your back.

”We leave tonight?’ Your voice sounds unfamiliar…too content, too relaxed. It’s been such a long time since you’ve sounded this way. Since you’ve been so completely happy.

”I wish we could stay longer,” he kisses at your drenched, now squeaky clean hair, “just you and me.”

”Me too,” you sigh, settling back into his embrace even more, “but I’m also excited to see those idiots you call brothers. Especially the baby.”

”He’s missed you.” More kisses to clutch at your already stolen heart. “Nothing was the same without you, sugar. Time to come home.”

Taglist: @gretasintrees @greta-van-chaos @celestialfauna @s0livagant @groggyvanfleet @kiszkathecook @brokenbellz @llightmyllovee @doodle417 @seventieswhore @jake-kiszkas-smirk @weightofdreams-gvf @imdepressedaf1996 @alisonwonderland29 @gretavanfleas @gretavangroove @jakesgrapejuice @sparrowofthedawn @xserenax-13 @obetrolncocktails @tripthelightfandomtastic @tripthelight-fanfic @jakeslovehandles @poofyloofy @70sgroupielovr @heatmyfleet @age-of-nyahh @sammiboo162 @spicedandicedtea @jakekiszkasleftnutsack @saoirsemaeve @mywickeddivinity @lvnterninthenight @paintmyhouse @mckenna4 @sarakay-gvf @theweightofjake @thewritingbeforesunrise @joshsmama @sammysvanfeet @rhythm-of-space @highladyofasgard @calumspretty @sad1lynn @demolitionndann @gvfpal @starcatcher-jake @gretavangroupie @hugorobinson @jaketlove

[zepskies]

In Bad Weather

Pairings: Dean Winchester x Plus-Sized/Latina!Reader || Sam Winchester x Eileen Leahy (background)

Summary: You and Dean tackle the biggest possible monkey wrench in your relationship yet: could Chuck have been manipulating you two all along?

[Set in S15 - "Fix It" for season finale]

AN: I had to finish the finale (maybe?) of this story verse before the end of Hispanic Heritage Month. 😘 This is the third installment of "Midnight Espresso!"

Song Inspo: “We Made It” by H.E.R. (<- On repeat. Seriously if you haven't heard this one, you'll thank me later.)

Word Count: 7,600

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Smutty smut, angst, hurt/comfort, body insecurity, body appreciation, heartache, followed by the fluffiest fluff…

☕ Midnight Espresso Masterlist

Al Mal Tiempo

Dean can’t remember the last time he woke up quite like this.

“Shit,” he grunts, clenching fists into the sheets.

He hears a muffled giggle underneath them.

He’s lying on his back, one knee starting to bend as he jolts on reflex. But familiar hands are holding down his thighs, as even more familiar lips caress him through his sweatpants.

Dean raises up the blankets and sheets to see your slightly frizzy-haired head pop up. Your playfully mischievous eyes meet his.

“Hey,” you greet him.

He raises a brow at you, smiling incredulously. “Hey.”

You then give him an annoyed look. “Do you mind? I was working on something.”

You try and cover yourself back up with the blankets, but Dean tosses them down your body. He wants to see you in that tank top and those little shorts. He's already getting a nice view of cleavage, no bra, and you’re straddling his thighs. His knees slide up to press against your ample behind.

“I do mind, actually.” His voice is still coarse with sleep. He clears it a little, and he smirks. “I was getting some good Zs in. You know, before I was interrupted.”

Your hands glide smoothly up his thighs, your nails catching on the fabric. You tilt your head at him.

“You really want me to stop?” you ask. Dean can’t readily respond, because he felt the shape of your words against his dick.

He moans, his eyes closing, fingers gripping the mattress under him when your mouth and tongue continue to outline the shape of his cock through his pants.

“I think I could finish you just like this,” you tell him, and still, your lips never leave him. “Or…maybe I’m feeling generous.”

Your nails hook on the waistband of his old sweatpants. The elastic has practically no give as you pull down the hem and expose his risen length. Shooting him one more smile, you let your hands glide down between his hips before you finally take his waiting cock into your mouth.

You love the sound of Dean’s voice, especially when you have him like this. His hand buries in your hair, tangling in the curls.

“Fuck, baby…” he mutters.

That’s kinda the idea, you want to say, but your mouth is preoccupied. Your lips and tongue move over him slowly. And soon your hands join to wrap around the base of his cock, stroking whatever you can’t take fully in your mouth.

You know he’s enjoying himself when his hand tightens in your hair. His breathing becomes labored, but still too steady for your liking.

You decide to pick up the pace. In your mind you think of a song to keep a good rhythm.

Devórame otra vez, ven, devórame otra vez…

Que la boca me sabe a tu cuerpo. Desesperan mis ganas por ti…

“Wait, wait,” Dean says, guttural in his throat. He stops you for a moment with his hands on your shoulders. You look up at him in confusion, but you oblige him.

“What’s wrong?” you ask in concern.

“Nothin’.” He shoots you a weary, lopsided smile. “Just thinking I want to have enough mojo to give you a good morning too.”

You snort. Mojo. This man.

But you shake your head. “You’re the winner today, baby. I just wanna make you feel good.”

It’s been a long year. You all had dealt with Michael taking Dean from you, at least for a while. Now Michael is gone, thanks to Jack, and they’d managed to reunite Jack back with his soul…but there’s still Chuck to deal with. It hangs over you all like a malevolent cloud.

So you want to help Dean take his mind off all that, just for a little while. And maybe part of you thinks that if you love him that much more, he won’t despair as much over how Chuck has been manipulating the brothers Winchester…basically their entire lives.

You shouldn’t have been surprised, however, when Dean grasps your arms and tugs you up until you’re level with his chest. His hand finds your cheek, brushing his thumb there, then slides into your hair.

He smirks. “We can both be winners.”

A smile spreads across your lips, just before he pulls you into a kiss. Passion grows one into many, with hands disappearing under each other’s clothes to remove them.

Strong hands part your thick thighs further, and long fingers find their way down between them. First teasingly along the seam of your pussy, then slipping inside to get you ready for him.

Your face buries in his neck as you moan encouragements into his ear, not all of them in English. By now, he’s learned a lot of what you whisper in Spanish. It still makes electricity spark down his spine, no matter what language you’re speaking in.

He knows when it’s time when the warm inner walls of your core are slick and gripping his fingers tight. But when he removes them, you shudder.

Both of you are breathing hard by the time he actually lines himself up inside of you. You use his shoulders for leverage, and the pads of his fingers circle insistently around your clit as you slowly sink down on his cock.

A keening cry escapes from your throat, while his free hand grips hard on your ass.

“Ah, fuck,” he grunts. Your walls are already fluttering around him, squeezing him like a vice.

You pant for breath. Your loose hair falls around both of you, shielding you from all other thoughts and sensations other than this.

“You feel so good,” you breathe, shifting your hips experimentally. “Always so good.”

Dean nods, and you know what it means: For me too.

He sits up and crushes you against him, bare breasts against his chest. (He loves the feeling.) He wraps an arm around your back and twists, until you’re underneath him and laying against his pillows. He encourages your thighs to stay wrapped around his waist as he begins to pound into you.

You breathe a short laugh. “Can’t let me stay on top?”

Dean grins. He grabs your hand and manages to press a kiss to your palm in between strokes. He knew what you were trying to do earlier, by taking care of him, but he can’t help it. He’s a giver.

And he knows exactly how to give it to you, shifting the angle of his hips to have you arching underneath him, gasping, clinging to his arms.

Thanks to your earlier treatment, that about does it for him. He can’t stop himself from a shuddering release inside you (praise fucking be for birth control, he thinks), but he still makes sure you come with him. He strokes your clit at the same time as his last deep strokes, and soon your voice washes over him as you call his name.

Afterwards, Dean rests his forehead against your shoulder, laying a kiss above your breast. He just woke up a few minutes ago, and he’s already tired.

“Okay. I need a damn nap,” he pants.

A giggle pours out of you. You rub his back soothingly.

“That’s what you get for doing all the work,” you tease. “I tried to help you.” 

“Help with what?”

Both you and Dean freeze at the sound of Jack’s voice. He’s just opened the door to your bedroom like you two hadn’t expressly reminded him about privacy.

You yelp in shock, and Dean’s face screws up in a glare as he reaches back fast for the closest blanket to yank over you both.

“What the hell!”

“Oh…sorry,” Jack says, shielding his own eyes. “Sam just wanted me to tell you that breakfast is ready.”

“You didn’t need to tell them right this second!” Sam calls from down the hall.  

“Knock, man! We knock on closed doors in this house!” Dean says. House. Bunker. Whatever.

He adds, “Or better yet, when my door’s closed, you give it a five-foot perimeter. Understand?”

Jack nods quickly and flees the room. “Sorry!”

The door slams shut behind him. Dean shakes his head. You can almost see the fumes coming out of his ears. You’re embarrassed and blushing, but you’re also biting your lower lip to stop yourself from laughing.

Dean looks down at you.

“It’s not funny. He needs to fuckin’ learn,” he says. His brows are still furrowed, but his mouth twitches upwards. “Should’ve locked that damn door.”

You reach up and twine your arms around his neck. Your lips get tantalizingly close to his.

“You’re still balls-deep inside me,” you remind him, pressing a sweet kiss to his lips. “It’s kinda funny.”

Dean’s lips purse. He doesn’t want to smile, but you’re making it difficult. Your hands slide down his chest, toying with his nipples as they go. You press a kiss to his throat. Meanwhile, your thighs squeeze his hips, reminding him of where he's still deeply buried. You smile when he utters a faltering sound.

"You tryin' to start something else I'll have to finish?" he teases. You give him a playfully narrowed look.

"Sure you got the mojo?" you toss back.

Raising a brow, Dean shifts out of you a few inches, just to push his half-hard cock back inside. You moan a bit, brows furrowed when the move stirs a tremor of arousal in your core. He hardens up fully at the sound, at the feeling of you clenching around him.

He smiles. “Well, well. I’m thinkin’ Round 2 after all.”

You smirk up at him and give his ass a nice little smack. “Then it's my turn for a ride.”

With a huff, he lets the twist of your hips and soft hands push him onto his back.

In the aftermath of Round 2, both of you are spent before you’ve even gotten out of bed. It’s a rare lazy morning where you don’t want to be bothered with another hunt, or even getting dressed just yet.

You have the cover of the warm sheets and blankets. Your back rests against Dean’s side, up against the headboard. His arm is wrapped around you, his hand intertwined with yours as you play with his fingers.

He’s catching up on Dr. Sexy MD, but you’re admittedly lost in thought. You bring his hand to your lips, and you just hold it there.

Dean glances at you and finally notices your contemplation. He strokes a thumb over your ring and pointer fingers.

“You okay?” he asks.

When you register his voice, you merely nod. But Dean isn’t convinced.

“Baby,” he presses.

It finally earns your attention. You look over at him, and you realize that he knows you too well to be fooled. You sigh, in a way that has Dean pausing his show and giving you his full attention.

“What’re you thinking about?” he asks.

With your free hand, you rub at your eyes and cheek. “Sam and Eileen. My heart just fucking breaks for them.”

You’re thinking about what happened a couple of weeks ago. After learning that Chuck manipulated Sam, who found the spell to bring Eileen back to life, she just…left.

Part of you wants to be angry with her; you love Sam like he’s your own brother. But you understand her as well. Being tied to Sam and Dean Winchester is like being tied to twin hurricanes. You’ve just been in this for far too long to let go of them now.

Dean nods at your admission, but he doesn’t have an answer for you. He hurts for his brother too. Part of him even feels a little guilty, having what he has with you, when Sam’s bit of happiness just keeps slipping out of his fingers.

“Maybe they just need some time to sort themselves out. Cooler heads and all that,” he says.

Time. You hope that’s all they need. However, it also makes you wonder about other things.

“That’s not it, is it?” Dean asks. He’s watching you shrewdly, and your lips thin into a line.

“Dean, what if…”

“Yeah?”

You hate yourself for even thinking it, let alone saying it. But you and Dean had survived this long on honesty, above all else. You can’t hide this from him anymore.

“What if Chuck manipulated us too?” you ask, in a small voice.

Dean’s face slackens. His hand releases yours, and he turns to face you more fully.

Emotion begins to clog in your throat and burn in your eyes.

“What if you and I would’ve never met if…” Your voice trembles, unshed tears clouding your vision. “And even if we did, would you still have kissed me that night? When we got back from that hunt—”

“Hey,” Dean protests, but now that you’ve begun, you can’t stop yourself from spilling your latest insecurities—the ones you’ve been holding onto ever since Chuck revealed himself as the villain of the whole world.

“I mean, what am I?” you ask. “Just the diversity casting in Chuck’s story?” 

“Don’t you say that shit to me,” Dean angrily snaps.

You gape incredulously. “Excuse me?”

“You fucking heard me.”

You feel how tense his body is, but your temper snaps just as well.

“Oye, mira ver,” you warn him.

You’ve levied that at him enough times that he knows all too well what it means. 

“Watch it, my ass,” he retorts. “You should know better than that.”

You frown at him, but he reads the thread of insecurity in the downturn of your lips, in your eyes that are starting to shine with tears. That always breaks him down.

Dean sighs and reaches for you then, cupping your cheek and brushing a thumb tenderly at the corner of your eye. He’s even angrier at Chuck for making you doubt yourself…and doubt him. 

“Come ‘ere,” Dean says.

You hesitate, but you go willingly back into his arms. You turn over and let him gather you against his chest. You rest against him. Your head tucks under his chin, and your leg slips between both of his.

“I love you,” he says, and his voice rumbles above your head. “That’s it. That’s all that matters.”

You bite your lip. “But—”

“No buts,” he says. Though his lips slowly tug at a smile. “Well, not that kind anyway.”

He gives your bare ass a playful squeeze under the sheets. You huff in amusement and swat him back.   

“Ya, coño. Enough,” you say with a laugh. “I probably have bruises back there.”

He just grins. “So you get what I’m saying?”

You let out a sigh. You push back enough to see his face, and you give him a soft smile.

“Yeah.”

Dean nods, but he still sees the worry in your eyes. He tries to stamp down the rest of your insecurities with a kiss, slow and deep.

You break away from him after a while to ask, “Ready for coffee?”

Dean sighs through his nose, but he hums in agreement.

“Will you make it how I like?” he asks.

A smile breaks across your face. 

“Café con leche?” you offer. 

He nods. “Yeah, please.” 

“So polite,” you remark with a raised brow. “What a change of pace.”

His mouth edges into a smirk. When you turn to get out of bed, he makes sure to give your ass one last smack. You jump a little with a yelp, but he catches your smile in the mirror above the dresser.  

Dean watches you shake out your curls and get ready for the day. You spend a lot of time blow-drying and straightening your hair, but he likes it like this too. Natural and wild. 

He likes that you wear the “dream catcher” (formerly known as your hole-ridden Journey shirt) a lot less. He likes that you’ve stopped feeling the need to wear anything to bed at all, if you don't feel like it; that you’re more comfortable with yourself. Comfortable with him.

But your smile drops. Dean sees the gears of your mind continuing to churn as you get dressed.

He has a feeling, despite his best efforts, that you’re still not convinced about the Chuck thing. And while Dean won’t admit it, that cuts him deep.   

Six years ago…

Las Cruces, New Mexico

The first time Dean met you was, of course, in a bar.

It didn’t take all that long for him to notice you, if he remembers right. 

You’d agreed to play pool with some guy who also speaks Spanish with you, and you seem genuinely into the game. So much so, that you don’t seem to notice how the guy is eyeing you. 

Dean doesn’t like the way the man’s gaze drags over your every abundant curve. Yeah, he’s been doing the same thing, but he likes to think he’s a little more classy about it.

He’s sitting at the bar with a half-drunk beer in his hand, watching the game out of the corner of his eye. He’s so invested that his beer is already flat and unpleasant, but when has that stopped him before?

…But then, Dean notices what you’re doing. You’re playing possum, making bad shots on purpose. His mouth curves behind his beer.

Little minx. 

Until you sweep the guy for all his money, that is. 

Dean watches the show in amusement. Secretly, he notes appreciation for the tight jeans, V-necked top and ankle boots. The red lipstick is the same shade as your manicured nails, and it all works well for you. The fullness of that pretty mouth would certainly work well for him.

He catches the way you sweep your hair out of the way, and the deceptive concentration in your eyes when you line up a shot on the second round. Your first turn.  

You then sink each of your cue balls expertly, without missing one. 

The swindled man gets mad, shouting at you in Spanish. You reply to him calmly as you lean on your cue stick. He gets even louder and reaches for the money, but before Dean would’ve intervened, you stab at the man’s foot with the cue. 

Your quick and clever hand gathers the money that you won, but because you seem to be kind at your core, you leave him thirty bucks for “gasolina” while he holds his foot. 

You surprise Dean further by joining him at the bar.

“Good game,” he says, giving you props with a smile.

You give him a smile back. “Thank you. Want to join me for another one?”

Your English is smooth, and so is your voice. Dean raises a brow at you.

“Even though I saw your little takedown there?” he asks. “Think I just saw all your moves.”

You laugh a little. “Not all of them.”

Was that a bit of flirtation in your eyes? Dean’s smile deepens into a smirk.

“But don’t worry,” you say. “I know how to play fair.”

He hits you with a bit of charm, lowering his voice with (he thinks) just the right amount of flirtation back.

“Now where’s the fun in that?”

Your smile deepens too, despite your blush.

Cute, he thinks, before he follows you back to the scene of the crime. AKA: the nearest pool table.

Dean wracks up the billiards and sets up a new game. You hand him his cue, and he gestures at you.

“Winner goes first,” he says graciously.

“Hmm, thought you were gonna say ladies first,” you reply.

“That too,” Dean says. “I’m a gentleman, after all.”

You snort in response. “I’m sure you are…”

“Dean,” he supplies. He earns your name by the time he sinks four balls in a row.

You sigh as you level him with a look. You seem to realize that the two of you are more than evenly matched.

“Don’t worry,” he says, shooting you a grin. “I won’t take all your money.”

And yet, when it gets down to it, he misses his last shot by a hair.

You watch him suspiciously when you two make it back to the bar.

“You wouldn’t have thrown that last shot on purpose, would you?” you ask.

Dean ducks his head and smiles, somewhat liking the fact that you caught him red-handed. You’re smart. 

“Now, what kind of gentleman would I be to take your ‘hard-earned’ cash?” he asks. It earns a burst of laughter from you, with the shine of your teeth.

“You could buy me a beer though,” he shrugs.

“Wow. Okay, Señor Smooth,” you tease. Though you get the bartender’s attention and get him a fifth of whiskey instead, of the good stuff too.

Dean considers asking you out right there. Sam is waiting back at the motel, but Dean is willing to book another room just to get you to himself for the night. And if possible, for however long he’s in town. 

“You know,” you say after a while, halfway through your Long Island iced tea. “The thing you’re hunting? It’s not a garden variety spirit…it’s El Duende. Creepy hobgoblin, basically. I’ve been tracking it from three cities over.”

Dean is figuratively (and almost literally) set back on his heels. He tilts his head at you, furrowing his brows.

“You’re a hunter?” he asks.

You laugh at the look on his face. “I saw you and another mountain man at the police station earlier…though nice look on the FBI get up. Think your ID guy could hook me up with a new CIA badge?”

Dean smiles. This is gonna be fun. 

Now: 

People were starting to disappear.

Billie, the new Death, was doing this. Dean was convinced. And Sam thought everyone from the Apocalypse world (and others who shouldn’t exist in this world) would be on her list. Ultimately, you all couldn’t save anyone. Not even Eileen. 

You and Dean both comforted Sam on that terrible night. Though he was still distraught as he decided to organize the other refugees with Jack and Donna. 

You stuck with Dean in his plan to raid Death’s library for Chuck’s book; the only thing in the world that told the story of how he would meet his end. 

You chose to back up Dean in his plan, but really, neither you or Castiel thought it was a good idea to poke the bear known as Billie. Not for a book that none of you could read, except for Death herself.

But now here you are, in Death’s library, watching with worry as Dean holds Death’s own scythe against her.

“I didn’t hurt your friends,” Billie grits out.

“What?” Dean asks.

She laughs humorlessly. “You’re in the wrong place, Dean.”

“What’re you talking about?”

“People are gettin’ gone. I’m guessing it’s Chuck,” she says. “And that means, you’re just wasting time.”

Her hands are braced against the weapon poised at her throat. She already has a stab wound in her shoulder. She tells him that the earlier wound he gave her has festered. It’ll never heal. Eventually, it’ll kill her.

But she intends to take you, Dean, and Castiel with her.

Billie becomes the hunter, following the three of you back through the portal into the bunker. Dean’s hand is so tight around your arm, making sure you’re keeping up with him and never falter. Castiel does his best get you and Dean to safety. And after he wards it against her with his own blood, only the old dungeon is safe for you all.

For now.

Billie pounds on the door, over and over. She’ll break through the warding eventually.

You grab onto Dean’s sleeve, just to hold onto him. He brings you close to him in a protective embrace. You see the panic in his eyes as his mind scrambles to find a way out of here, knowing deep down that there’s nothing any of you can do. Castiel is nearly powerless. You’re all trapped. 

“That wound is killing her,” Cas says. “We might be able to wait her out.”

His gaze is on the floor, though he briefly looks up at Dean. He shakes his head.

“And if we can’t?”

“Then we fight.”

Dean shakes his head. He pulls away from you to lean against the wall.

“We’ll lose,” he says. Your heart breaks at the way he looks, shame-ridden and defeated. “I just led us into another trap…all because I couldn’t end Chuck. Because I was angry, and because I needed something to kill, and because that’s all I know how to do.”

His eyes are red and burning. Yours swim with tears of dismay. You want to correct him as he continues to vent, speaking with a certainty that it was Chuck all along.

Dean looks at you then, and at Cas. He’s close to tears when he says they should’ve stayed with Sam and Jack. That everyone was about to die. And he can’t stop it. And he can’t stop Billie when she breaks through that door.

You don’t know what to tell him to ease his guilt. All you know is that despite everything, you made your choice to support him in this. To stay with him. 

You made your choice a long time ago, you realize.

“Wait,” Cas says. His blue eyes burn with realization. “There’s one thing she’s afraid of. One thing…strong enough to stop her.”

Dean’s eyes widen. Cas uses what strength he has left to push you and Dean away, and he summons the Empty.

Dean pulls you further along with him as the formless void coils up like ink through the walls and cement floors. It drags Billie into its darkness, but it claims Castiel with it, as it once promised it would.

After the angel gives up his life, you and Dean are holding each other against the wall, on the ground, shaking and each rocked to the core.

You’re able to break out of your shock sooner than Dean, who just saw his best friend die.  

You kneel beside him while he sits, and you hold him to you while you cry. He can’t speak, but you know his guilt is eating at him.

His phone rings, startling you both, and it’s Sam. Dean can’t answer it. He covers his face, pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes, as if that could stop the ache in his chest. You press a kiss to his hair, his temple.

“He saved us, Dean. It’s not your fault,” you tell him. He shakes his head. You know he doesn’t believe you, but when he grasps your arm, his hold is desperate. 

“It’s me,” he says. His voice is shaking and ragged. “Everything I do turns to shit. Everyone around me pays the price. That’s just how it is…if you were smart, you’d hightail it as far as fucking possible from me.”

Your breath gets trapped in your lungs. Your heart feels like it’s shattering.

“Dean…baby, look at me,” you say with a sniffle. You gently hold his face, and he lets you raise him up. Your eyes are bright with new conviction.

“No one," you tell him, "not even Chuck can force me to love you the way I do. And not a damn thing can stop me from staying with you.”

Dean has tears burgeoning in his eyes. You caress his cheek, rough with stubble he’s let go too long.

“There’s a saying. Al mal tiempo, buena cara,” you tell him. His face shows a glimmer of confusion. “At bad weather, put on a happy face. It means even in difficult times, there’s still a reason to keep going. Right now, you are my reason.”

Dean considers that. He squeezes your arms unconsciously, as if grounding himself in you.

At the very least, he’s grateful that he’s not alone. And after a moment, he nods. You press a kiss to his cheek, and then his forehead. His eyes close at your comfort, your affection. He doesn’t think he deserves it, but he accepts it anyway.

“Come on, let’s get you off the floor,” you say. You start to help him up…but your body stills. You feel a strange prickling across your skin. 

Dean notices the shift, with growing unease in his gut. He grips you tighter and calls your name in concern.

Your gasp is the last bit of your voice that Dean hears before he watches you turn to dust in his arms.  

Buena Cara

Four years ago…

It’s the morning after you and Dean shared a midnight espresso. The morning after your first kiss, your first confession, and your first time.

He wakes tangled up in you, and the sheets, which are somehow tied up in knots around his legs and yours.

“What’d you do here, woman?” he asks.

His voice is still gruff with sleep, and he lays on his stomach. You giggle almost silently next to him. You’re lying on your back with the sheets somehow covering up to your chest. One of your legs is tangled with his.

“Nothing,” you claim. He snorts and moves closer. His lips find your shoulder, lazily burning a path downwards. But when he grips the sheet and tries to expose more of you, you grasp his wrist on reflex.

Brows furrowing, Dean glances up at your face. You’re biting your lip, and he sees signs of insecurity in your eyes.

“You haven’t seen me in the daytime yet,” you joke. Yet another one that isn’t really a joke, Dean realizes.

He really wishes he could find your goddamn ex and bash his skull in. Because Dean would like nothing more than to just spend the rest of the day in this bed, mapping out the smooth expanse of your tan skin.

So he slips his arm underneath you. You utter a little squeal in protest, but he manhandles you until you’re resting on his chest, bare skin against bare skin. You look down at him with fondness, touching his cheek. Dean stares up at you with a reserved frown.

“What’s it gonna take, huh?” he asks. It’s like you don’t believe he wants you, even now.

You bite your lip as your fears creep in behind your eyes, like black ink coiling in your mind. That he just likes your personality. That maybe he just wanted to try something “different” with you, a thicc-thighed, fat-assed Latina, instead of the petite, slender girls you’ve seen him go after in bars.

“You could have anyone, Dean,” you point out.

Dean’s frown deepens, his brows furrowing. His hands lower on your back, squeezing the curve of your waist and soft hips.

“Anyone’s not naked in my bed,” he says. His voice is stern and matter-of-fact.

You attempt a smile, but he’s not convinced. He blows out a breath and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. 

“Your ex sure did a number on you, didn’t he?” he remarks. 

Your eyes widen. The more you think about it, maybe he did.

But maybe it wasn’t just him…

You tear up and blink against them, trying not to let them fall. You had thought you were happy with your curves. You really did.

You didn’t realize you had internalized so many of these negative thoughts about yourself, but here Dean was, forcing you to confront them. You’re grateful, but you also don’t know what to say.

Dean’s brows draw together. He holds your cheek. 

“Okay. It’s all right. We’ll work on it.” He kisses your forehead. He also wipes a tear from your cheek. “Don’t cry, baby.”

A laugh gets choked in your throat. “You should know this about me by now. I’m a crier.”

“Yeah, you’re also rockin’ a bit of sex hair,” he says, tangling his fingers further in the wily strands. “My kinda woman.”

You sigh through your nose. This man.

You can’t help but smile softly. The tip of your finger traces his jawline, down to his chin.

“Want me to make some coffee?” you offer. “I can have you try a cortadito with breakfast.”

“What’s that?” Dean asks.

“Two shots of espresso, warm frothy milk on top,” you reply. 

“God, two shots? It’s a wonder you ever sleep,” he quips. “But I do like the sound of frothy. I’ll whip us up some eggs.”

“And bacon?” you ask.

“Of freakin’ course, bacon.”

With that agreement, you two slowly get out of bed, shower, and go to the kitchen, where Sam looks bleary-eyed and annoyed at the kitchen table with his coffee mug. But he doesn’t have it in his heart to truly be mad at you and Dean. 

“I’m happy for you guys,” Sam says wryly. “Just, next time, put a sock on the door or something. So I know when to break out the ear plugs.”

Now:

Sam finds Dean sprawled on the dining room floor the next morning after Castiel has died, and you have disappeared, along with everyone else on Earth. 

Dean is surrounded by empty beer and liquor bottles. Sam’s heart clenches as he starts to help his brother.

“All right, let’s get you off the floor,” he says. 

In his words, Dean only hears your voice. He shoves Sam off him and stumbles into the kitchen.

There Jack is starting to wash dishes. He takes your little cafetera coffee maker from the stove, preparing to dump the old grounds. Dean grabs it out of his hand.

“Leave it alone,” Dean snaps. He slams it back on the stove where you left it. 

Jack is wide-eyed, but Sam gives his brother a patient warning with his eyes. Dean ignores it and heads for his room.

“Sorry,” Sam says on behalf of his brother. 

Jack shakes his head with tears in his eyes. “It’s okay, I…I understand.” 

He already misses you too. You’d become a kind of older sister to him…and Castiel. Well. Cas was the father Jack will never have again.  

Sam agrees with a nod, clapping Jack comfortingly on the back. 

Sam ventures down the long halls of the bunker to Dean’s room. He pushes the cracked open door, and sees his brother sat hunched on the edge of his bed, hands bracing on his knees.

Sam walks in, swings Dean’s desk chair around, and sits down across from his brother. He rests his forearms on his knees and waits. 

When Dean eventually looks up with red-rimmed eyes, Sam’s heart breaks a little more. For Dean, and for himself.

“We’re going to end this,” Sam promises him.

“We tried to give Chuck what he fucking wanted,” Dean reminds. “We offered to end ourselves, man. He wouldn’t bite. He won’t bring ‘em back.”

Dean’s voice cracks at the end there. Sam takes a deep breath, and lets it out just as slowly.

“We’ll figure out a way,” he says. “We always do.”

“That’s just it,” Dean says, with tired, glassy eyes. “I don’t think we can do it this time.”

Sam’s throat tightens. “Then I’ll believe for both of us.” 

By the time Chuck is done snapping his fingers, Sam, Dean, and Jack are the only people left on Earth.

Until they encounter the Michael of this world, formerly trapped in the cage. They hatch a plan. And even though the angels don’t cooperate, they manage to play straight into the real plan.

Jack is the ace up Team Free Will’s sleeve, and as it turns out, that bomb inside the kid (made of the first Adam’s rib) was good for something. The nephilim absorbs the power of Lucifer, Michael, and ultimately Chuck himself. 

Jack is the one who saves the world. 

Before Dean leaves with his brother and Jack, away from that grassy cliffside in Lebanon, he turns to Chuck.

“Answer me this. Did you…” Dean says, struggling with how to formulate his question. “Meeting my girl. Was that us? Or was it just another manipulation?”

Sam watches his brother with concern. He sees the way Dean’s hand is already itching for his gun. Chuck is human now, and Sam knows how tempting it would be to truly end it.

Chuck himself is still prone on the ground, sitting up with wariness behind his eyes.

“I didn’t tug on that thread, actually,” he admits. “Made sense to let you have a glimmer of happiness, something to hold onto. To fight for.”

Then he looks up at Dean with a tremulous smirk pulling at his lips.

“But I did wait for the perfect moment to dust her, didn’t I?”

Within seconds, Dean’s gun is slipping into his hands with the safety cocked back, the barrel lined up for a straight shot between Chuck’s eyes. Sam barks a warning, but Dean doesn’t altogether care. He’s furious, sneering at the former god who cowers like the coward he is.

“Dean?” Sam calls to him. It’s a question and a warning all at once.

Dean’s mouth works, quirking at a humorless smile. He cocks the safety back in place and lowers his gun with a shaking hand.

He stalks back to the Impala and doesn’t look at his brother.

The only three people left alive in the world ride back into the empty streets of Lebanon, Kansas.

When Jack snaps his fingers, it’s like this little planet is reborn. 

Suddenly, it’s filled with life. People walking their dogs, their kids, hailing cabs, nearly rear-ending each other’s cars in traffic while texting. It’s like the chaos never happened, and equilibrium is restored.

Even the shaggy dog Dean found last week bounds up to him. He bends down to pet the dog’s furry head, scratching behind his ears. Dean’s going to actually have to come up with a name for this thing now. 

And yet…

In a world full of color, Dean still just sees gray. 

He and Sam say a bittersweet goodbye to Jack, who ascends into Heaven. Dean can only hope the kid has a good WiFi signal if they ever need him again, like if he can’t find…

The forgotten cell phone in his pocket buzzes on a ring. He shares a wide-eyed look with Sam, licking his dry lips before he reaches into his jean pocket. He flips the phone over and finds your name across his caller ID.

With a shaking hand, he swipes his thumb across the green button and raises the phone up to his ear. He can’t even make his voice work right away. 

Thankfully, he doesn’t have to.

“Dean?” your beautiful voice greets him. 

His lips pull at a tremulous smile. “Hey, sweetheart.”

You let out a relieved breath. 

“Oh, thank God. I’m here at the bunker. Where are you?”

Dean wants to quip that Chuck had nothing to do with it, but he humors you. 

“Not too far,” he says. He gestures to a smiling Sam, and together they haul ass back to the Impala. 

“Promise?” you ask. Dean grins.

“I’ll be home before you know it.”

Once again, you’re tangled up in the bed you share with Dean. Almost every morning without fail, he teasingly grumbles as he tries to free his legs from the knotted sheets. 

“What the hell did you do here, woman?” 

“I didn’t do anything,” you refute. Though your giggle betrays your guilt while he continues to struggle. “You’ll just have to stay in bed then.”

You drag him back to you, and it’s not unpleasant to be welcomed back to the soft warmth of your body. 

“We’ve got some monsters waiting,” he reminds you. 

“They can wait,” you say, and ply him with a lazy morning kiss. It heats up in passion as your hands slide under his shirt… 

But of course, one of said “monsters” predictably starts banging at the bedroom door. It opens a crack, revealing a head of light brown hair and tearful hazel eyes. 

“Mo-oooom! Cari keeps hitting me after you told her not to,” cries your son. 

His older sister stomps behind him, so he ducks into the room to flee from her, heading for the bed and jumping into your arms. 

Dean sighs, hiding his disappointment. You give him a secret smile while brushing back your son’s hair, pressing a kiss to his forehead. To Dean, you gesture with your eyes at the doorway, where your nine-year-old daughter peeks in. She eyes her little brother in annoyance. 

Tattletale, her face says. 

“Caridad,” you call to her in your sterner mom voice. “Come here, please.” 

Cari is most definitely a daddy’s girl, and she beelines for her father. He picks up the nine year old and settles her on the bed, tucked into his side. 

“Robbie’s a crybaby,” she says. 

“No, you are!” Robbie cries indignantly. He tries to push her, but you grab his hand and push it down to the bed. Dean has to do the same with Cari when she tries to pinch her brother.

“All right, all right, enough,” Dean says, with all the authority his own father once had. “Can’t we all just have one morning in peace?”

That’s when Dean’s phone rings on his nightstand. He sighs and answers it, and it’s Sam, asking what time you and Dean plan to come over his house today for the Fourth of July barbecue.

“Give me a couple hours to wrangle the kids,” Dean replies. He has to curl an arm around Cari so she won’t throw another pillow at her brother. 

“Tell Eileen I’m bringing the dessert,” you chime in, calling to Sam in the phone. 

“You got that?” Dean asks his brother. A moment later, he reports back to you with a nod.

“He’s wanting the fluffy cake thing,” Dean says. “The sweet one with the lil’ cherries on top.”

“Tres leches?” you supply with a smile. 

He nods again. “Yeah, that one.” 

“Not a problem, but let’s get them cleaned up so I can start baking,” you say. Though you grunt as a small bare foot kicks at your side.

“Hey!” you reach for your daughter’s arm. “Ya, that’s enough. Te calmas, o te calmo. Los dos, coño.” 

Dean snorts, watching his children now wrestling each other in the middle of the bed despite your best efforts to keep them apart. 

“Easier said than done,” he mutters. He hangs up with Sam and then surveys the familiar chaos in front of him. 

“All right, you guys want to see your cousins?” Dean bribes. The kids actually pause and perk up at that. 

“We’re going to Uncle Sammy’s house?” Cari asks.

“Yep, so quit screwin’ around. Let’s up and at ‘em,” Dean says. “Brush your teeth and wash your face, then meet me downstairs for breakfast.”

“Can we have Cap’n Crunch?” Robbie asks.  

“No, Raisin Bran,” Cari insists. You have to laugh a little, reaching out to stroke her cheek. Your daughter surely is a special sort of child for genuinely liking Raisin Bran. 

“Fine,” Dean agrees to both with a nod. “Get to it. Come on, let’s go!”

He claps his hands until the kids are up and out of his bed, running to the door. 

“Don’t run!” you warn them. “Caridad Marie Winchester, stop pushing your brother, or you’re not going anywhere.”

The door hangs open as the sounds of small feet patter down the hall, accompanied by childish giggling and yelling. You sigh and lean back into the pillows, closing your eyes. 

“I’m already tired. Why did we have two of those?” 

Dean smirks and leans over to press a kiss to your forehead. You keep him close with a hand in his shirt. 

“If I remember right, having the first one was so much fun, you just couldn’t keep your hands off me,” he teases.

“Is that what happened? I seem to remember some tequila and cajoling involved,” you smirk, cracking your eyes open. You pull him to you and kiss him thoroughly. 

Both of you try not to lose track of time, but in the ten years since retiring from hunting, learning how to be civilians, true partners, and parents, you’ve become pros at stealing the small moments for yourselves. 

“Come on, babe. Don’t you want Cari to have a little bro?” you mock in his deeper voice. “They’ll protect each other, be each other’s best friends.”

Dean chuckles at your interpretation of him, giving a teasing yank to one of your stray curls. 

“They will, one day. Sam and I didn’t really get each other until later on.”

You smile at that and raise your hand to the beard he’s trying to grow out. You remember him teasing Sam for sporting a “ferret” on his face, once upon a time. But it seems that both Winchester brothers are well-suited to the lumberjack look. 

“Maybe we can get Sam and Eileen to keep the kids tonight,” Dean suggests.

You like the sound of that. Cari and Robbie take any chance for a sleepover with their cousins.

You run a hand down his chest. “You’re saying I’m going to get all this to myself tonight?”

He grabs your hand and kisses it. His gaze holds a familiar heat that makes you smile. Your fingers wiggle teasingly in his grip, which curves his lips as well. Your wedding rings gleam in the lamplight.

We don’t have time now, but we will later, his gaze promises. 

So with a sigh, he releases your hand. 

“All right, lazy. Time to get a move on,” he teases. He then points at you. “Good face.”

Buena cara. Your smile deepens as you start to rise out of bed. It’s become his thing with you, starting the day with a good face. 

Nowadays, you don’t often have a reason not to. 

“I’ll make coffee,” you offer, as you do most mornings. The one time Dean tried to make it your way, he burned the bottom of your coffee press. 

He tosses you a smirk as he pulls on a new shirt. He then digs in his side of the dresser for a pair of jeans that don’t have jelly stains, imprinted on with small fingers. 

“Yeah, that’s probably for the best,” he agrees. “I think today’s a two-shot kinda morning. What do you think?”

You sidle up behind him at the dresser and swat him on the ass. He jolts a little, making a rumbling sound as he eyes you in your little black nightgown. It’s a warning, not to start something you two won’t have time to finish.

“Sounds about right.” Bracing your hands on his hips, you lean up on your toes so you can rest your chin on his shoulder, meeting his eyes in the mirror. You smile.

“Two cortaditos coming up.”

AN: Aaaand I am soft. 🥹 I've been wanting to get to this for a while now. If you like it, let me know! ❤️

Some more Spanish translations for ya:

This is a callback from "Devour Me" with “Ven Devórame Otra Ves” by Lalo Rodriguez.

Devórame otra vez, ven, devórame otra vez… Que la boca me sabe a tu cuerpo. Desesperan mis ganas por ti…

Translation:

"Devour me again. Come, devour me again…

Because my mouth has the taste of your body. My lust for you is exasperating."

“Te calmas, o te calmo. Los dos, coño.”

Translation:

“Calm down, or I’ll calm you down. Both of you, damn it.” [😂 I think every Latina mom has spouted this at least once lol.]

Keep Reading:

Next up in this series is “Dream With Me.” It's set in the time gap in this story. Specifically, in 15x20:

Summary: When your ex-boyfriend calls for help on a case, you have a tough decision to make. But Dean isn’t going to let you do anything alone. (AKA: The last hunt you, Sam, and Dean will ever go on together.)

▶️ Next Story: Dream With Me (PART 1)

Series Masterlist

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Main Masterlist

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@melancholictearz @nic-kolas @sleepyqueerenergy @wayward-lost-and-never-found @thewritersaddictions @just-levyy @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @deanwanddamons @antisocialcorrupt @lacilou @adoringanakin @theonlymaninthesky @teehxk @midnightmadwoman @brianochka @branj19

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[joels-shitty-puns]

The Key To Your Heart - Track 7

Pairing: Pedro Pascal x Musician!Reader

Series Summary: After writing your feelings for Pedro into a song, it gains a lot more popularity than expected. Ultimately it brings both criticism and support, with new possibilities around the corner.

Series Warnings: 18+ only (MDNI). Fat shaming, name calling, kissing, angst. Mentions of food, weight loss, weight gain, dieting, weighing, potential eating disorder, food guilt. Potential for puns/dad jokes (name of my blog, and the fic) should give that away. This is my first fic which should be its own warning, lol. Also some cursing. Mentions of masturbation (f) maybe more smut later idk. Sadness, reader is pretty depressed. Poor body image. Rude people. Bullying-ish and just lack of support? Anxiety. Age gap! Reader is in her mid 20's, Pedro is current age (48).

Other stuff: Reader is plus sized. AFAB. Inexperienced. Also has a dog, but you can pretend it is another creature probably. Further, in case it isn't clear, italics almost always are the reader's inner thoughts!

Word Count: 6.6K!!!

Series List: Here!

Miss last chapter? Here!

Hi guys! I'm so sorry this took a little extra longer than usual. I've had a lot of ideas for this chapter for a long time and I struggled with putting it all on paper. I'm also on vacation 🤪 but I really wanted to get this one out there, especially before Halloween. Also I'm sorry if the spacing and stuff is crap, I did this from my phone/iPad while falling asleep at 3:30 AM. Hope you enjoy! Thanks for reading!

__________

You awoke with a start, your alarms blaring through the bedroom. Giving the snooze button a smack, you reach across your mattress, touching the sheets to find the other side of your bed empty.

It was still warm, but missing the actual body that you fell asleep cuddled next to. Blinking your eyes a few times, you called out into the bedroom. "Baby?"

You climbed out of bed, making your way down the hall to the living room, where you finally saw him on the couch. Sound asleep, eyes gently closed, a soft snore passed from his mouth. At the sound of your footsteps, he opened his eyes, giving a big stretch and wagging his tail.

"Good morning Skippy, my little sunshine! I missed your cuddles this morning. Why'd you move to the couch?"

He looked at you and yawned, his eyes closing once again. You giggled and headed for the shower to get ready for another day. Some of us have to actually work and get stuff done in this house!

_____

The day at work was busy, leaving little time to chat with Pedro. You couldn't help but smirk to yourself as your coworkers buzzed about your new album freshly released the day before. They still hadn't figured it out, but you decided you would continue to let it be your little secret a bit longer. They didn't need to know. Just you and Pedro could share this for now.

On your lunch break, you finally opened your phone to find a few text messages from him. "Good morning! I had fun video chatting with you last night. I'm so glad we listened to your album together, and it was nice to finally get to see you." His message made your heart skip.

Second text from Pedro: "Hey, I hope work is going well for you. I was thinking, maybe if you'd like, we could chat again later? If you don't want to video chat anymore, no pressure, but I enjoyed it and thought maybe if you wanted to, we could."

You replied. "Hey P! It's been a crazy day :) but a good one. Especially waking up happy after enjoying a lovely evening. I would really love to video chat with you again too."

Pedro breathed a sigh of relief at your answer. He couldn't help but feel nervous to ask you, despite having just video chatted last night, and he also didn't want to make you feel pressured; especially with someone as private as you are. But with your response, he smiled as he felt his stomach fill with butterflies at the thought of seeing you again.

_____

Later on, after work, the two of you were texting and deciding on the time to video chat again. However, before you called, Pedro texted you again. "Hey, I had a question for you, but I didn't want to ask it over the phone or video call and make you feel pressured. But, there's this Hollywood Halloween party coming up in a few days. I know you still want to keep your identity, but I thought if you'd like to, each guest is allowed to bring a date, and I thought you could mingle a little with some other musicians and actors. I can just tell people you're one of my friends from a set if you don't want to give your real name. You don't need to tell them anything you don't want out to the public. Plus I would love to spend some time together in person too, if you want to. I know it's a lot, so if you would rather not go, I understand. But I'd love to meet you."

The idea of going to a party filled with other celebrities, AND Pedro, had you filled with mixed emotions. Nervous. Excited. Terrified. Love-sick. Hesitant.

After a bit of thinking,you decided, and the answer seemed obvious from the start. The party sounded terrifying, and was completely unknown territory. But you also knew that if you didn't go, you'd surely kick yourself and regret this chance forever.

Finally you replied. "Okay! I'll go. I'd love to spend time with you, too, Pedro. Thank you for inviting me."

He replied again: "Really?! So, will boo be my date? 👻"

You: "That was a little too.. (candy) corny. I may have to ghost you. 🎃"

Pedro didn't miss a beat. "Okay, you're driving me batty. 🦇 Want to call and talk about our costumes?"

Oh shit, I forgot about costumes.

The two of you chatted, easily falling into the comfortable conversations you always do. Fitting together like two peas in a pod. Even though neither of you were dressed up fancy anymore, it didn't feel like you had to be someone else, or dress up. Things were comfortable. Easy.

Pedro suggested a matching costume, which made you want to scream and pace through your living room. Unfortunately, due to your camera situation, pacing and screaming would surely cause some alarm. After dancing around things like pirates, ketchup/mustard, and movie characters, you finally had an idea and suggested Cinderella and her prince.

"It just feels kinda fitting you know? Nobody knows who I am, but I go out for once, I meet this prince, and he lets me have this fun night. But then at the end of the night, everything goes back to normal, and I'm unknown again."

Until he eventually can't stay away and they both fall in love and live happily ever after… but that's neither here nor there. Totally not my intention.. pffft…

"That sounds like a wonderful idea. Should I send a carriage?" He joked with a wink, but you could tell he was a little bit serious. You couldn't help but feel like he would have reserved a carriage ride in a heartbeat had you said yes.

"Absolutely not. Way too big of a scene," you laughed. "In fact, I actually have work that day. Would it be possible for me to just meet you there after I get off work? I can just take an Uber across town. My work isn't too far from the party and I'm sure parking will be a mess."

Pedro agreed, although he felt bad you'd be taking a ride-share service alone and continued to offer a ride if you needed. He also felt a bit disappointed he wouldn't get to have any time alone with you beforehand, but he wasn't about to tell you that detail.

Either way, the two of you agreed on your plans, and as the days led up to the party, you grew more and more eager. You also felt more and more dread in the pit of your stomach.

But this will be good. It has to be. Right?

_____

The night of the party came quickly.

You got off work, took a quick shower, changed into your costume, did your hair, and added a little bit of makeup. The costume felt silly, but you kept telling yourself it was Halloween and everyone would be in costumes. Plus, you have a handsome prince waiting for you inside. As your mind and heart raced, the Uber driver pulled up to the curb, dropped you off, and you were met with a line to the entrance.

The line to the party was lengthy, filled mostly with eager fans, paparazzi, and journalists hoping to gain entry. Occasionally you'd see a celebrity pass by, but they were quickly ushered in once they were recognized.

You, however, were unknown by all. So you stood in line, surrounded by others who hoped desperately to meet their favorite celebrity. Not unlike yourself.

Having finally made it, you sent a quick text to Pedro. "Hey! I'm here :) sorry I'm late."

Your stomach twisted in knots. Sure, you were excited to meet Pedro. Especially with as much as the two of you have been talking over the past couple months now-

Geez, has it really been months?

But despite your connection, you still had that nagging self-conscious worry that he might not like you. Maybe he's just been talking with you to be nice, and the second you're together in person he won't give you the time of day. Maybe he will find you boring in real life. Maybe he will think you're ugly. Or weird. Or fat. Or -

"Next!" The bouncer at the door yelled after sending yet another hopeful fan away. Your stomach dropped and your mouth was dry.

"Hi, I-"

"NAME?" He barked, clearly done with this whole event.

"Well, actu-"

"Speak up princess, I can't hear ya when ya mumblin," the man said with a thick New York accent.

You cleared your throat. "Actually my name isn't on the list, I'm a guest of Pedro Pascal."

The man, towering over you, let out a bellowing laugh. "YEAH, I'm sure ya are, toots. You and every other woman in this joint."

"But I-"

"And trust me, I've turned away much prettier broads than the likes a' you at this doorway," he said while looking you up and down with an amused look as if he had just told the punchline at a comedy club.

Your heart sank. You always said things like that to yourself on the inside, but it wasn't often that people were that blunt to your face.

The man sneered while smacking his gum and arrogantly moving it to the other side of his mouth with his tongue. That gum. You wanted to punch him if you had to hear him smack it one more time.

"Back a' the line, kid. Y'ain't gettin' in here tonight, but I appreciate the self-confidence," he said, laughing at his own joke.

Disheartened, you didn't even care about meeting Pedro anymore. Your mood was dampened, your ego was hurt, and all you wanted to do was go home, get out of this stupid costume, and cry on your couch. With a short nod, you bit your lip to choke down the tears, turned, and headed towards the exit.

"Hey!!! There you are- wait where are you going?"

You'd recognize that voice anywhere. Pedro.

You turned around, swallowing down your emotions and putting on a fake smile, despite the wave of hurt and anxiety pooling in your stomach and chest. "Hey, Pedro! You found me."

Pedro smiled at the guard and snuck past, telling him "hey, she's with me." Fans in line squealed, which he greeted with a kind wave and charming smile. At last, he reached you and gestured for the two of you to head inside to the party. You gave a nod and a small, half-hearted smile.

You didn't want him to know how upset you were. Not only did you feel pathetic and slightly agree with the bouncer, but you also didn't want to ruin Pedro's night.

As the two of you entered the crowded party, you looked around at the decorations. Filled with purple and green lighting, the Halloween music blared and monsters danced the night away. A bowl of green punch sat on a table to the side, surrounded by bowls of candy and platters of snacks. An open bar was on the back wall, providing both normal booze, and Halloween themed drinks topped with gummy worms or syrup made to look like blood. To the right of the bar was a door to the large rooftop balcony which held tall, dark-green potted hedges, perfectly trimmed and shaped underneath rows of charming fairy lights. Beyond the shrubbery, the deck had several nice patio tables and chairs, a few people catching their breath outside or chatting, and a gorgeous view of the city below with the sparkling sky above.

Back inside and off to the right of the patio door, away from the dance floor, was a door which you assumed was the restroom, based on the long line of women.

"I'd like you to meet some people, if you feel up to it," Pedro yelled to be heard over the booming music from the dj.

"Okay!" You yelled back.

He led you over to a couple of people off to the side of the dance floor, one you recognized as his friend Sarah Paulson, who was dressed in a shimmery witch costume.

Pedro introduced the two of you. Sarah was very sweet, and while you talked music and acting, Pedro touched your shoulder and spoke into your ear to avoid yelling. "I'm going to grab a drink, can I get you anything?"

"I'll just take a soda, thanks!" Although some alcohol might help your nerves, you wanted to maintain a clear head and maybe not do or say something to Pedro that you might regret.

"You got it," he replied, turning on his heel towards the bar.

Once he had left, Sarah gave you a look.

"What?" you laughed.

"You know, he talks about you all the time. I know you already love some other guy based on that hit song of yours, but I gotta say I think he might be smitten with you."

"Oh please, no he isn't. We're just friends!" You smiled at the idea, but inside, you kept hearing the bouncer's words on repeat. There's no way Pedro could have feelings for you. Even if you wanted him to have those feelings more than anything, it couldn't be.

"Whatever you say," she said with a smirk.

A pause before she added "just… don't hurt him. I know you love someone else, but he's a good guy," she pleaded, letting her protective side show.

On his way back from the bar, Pedro ran into Oscar, whom he tagged up with and headed back to your small group. "This is my friend Oscar," said Pedro, introducing you to Oscar as his friend.

Friend. Remember that. Friend. That's all. All you'll ever be.

"Nice to meet you Oscar!" You gave him a cherry smile.

"Nice to finally meet the woman of the hour! Pedro here just won't shut up about you," he said with a smirk, looking at Pedro mischievously. Pedro blushed and looked into his drink cup, taking a sip while trying to hide himself.

"Yep! It's always 'she said this, she said that, can you believe she can do that? She's so smart, funny, sweet…' yada yada yada," he said, smirking again and taking a side glance at Pedro, who choked on his soda. "Shut. Up. Oscar." He quietly threatened through clenched teeth. But despite his quiet tone and a loud party, you heard him.

I mean, I say kind things about my friends that way sometimes. It's nice he's so appreciative of his friends. Because that's what I am. A friend.

Sarah chimes in. "That's what I was telling her! But she claims they're just friends," she air-quotes around the words 'just friends.'

Pedro's heart sank. He knew deep down that's all you were to him, but hearing it second-hand from you still hurt. Just friends… he thought.

"Yeah right," Oscar rolled his eyes, talking to Sarah as if the two of you weren't standing literally right next to them.

"Believe what you want Oscar, but it's true," Pedro answered with a shrug.

Now it was your turn to feel heartbroken. Just friends… you thought.

You cleared your throat, "anyway, I'm going to go get another soda. Can I get anyone anything?" They all answered no, and you headed for the bar.

Deep in your thoughts, you walked over to the bar when a woman slammed into you. She spilled her red, bloody Halloween cocktail drink all down the front of your costume. "Watch where you're going, fat bitch," said the woman, appropriately dressed in a devil costume, her skin-tight red dress barely covering her ass and breasts.

You sighed. At this point you decided to skip the refill and head toward the bathroom to clean up your now wet front. You looked back to see the devil herself headed right towards Pedro's direction. Typical, you thought with an eye roll. She wants him and is mad I was talking to him.

You turned away from that scene and reached the line to the bathroom. It was lengthy, but luckily it was moving fast. Once inside, you finally could let your emotions out a little bit. You wanted to put on a brave face for Pedro and not ruin his evening, but ever since the bouncer made his comments, you couldn't get them out of your head. And now with that woman spilling her drink on you, you had another reason to be upset. You felt undeserving to be here to begin with, and their comments really solidified the imposter syndrome.

Despite wanting so desperately to see Pedro in the flesh, you hadn't even been able to really make eye contact all evening. Your nerves about meeting him were still there, but now you were just upset about the whole night. Even though you wanted to look at him, really see him, you felt like you didn't deserve it; and your nerves warned you not to look or else he'd figure you out.

If he realizes I like him, it's game over. It'll be like that guy I liked before. He'll eventually say it's weird. Weird for me to have a crush on him, weird for me to touch him, weird for the two of us to talk about relationships or sex. It's 'weird' with you.

You really started to hate that word; weird.

Perhaps you were destined to be a single hermit forever. Or maybe just become a nun.

Cleaned up and having let enough tears out for a couple more hours, at least until you could go home and really cry, you walked out of the bathroom. Heading back toward Pedro, you saw a tall, thin, beautiful woman wearing a tight black dress with a slit down the thigh and skeleton makeup on her face.

The woman was standing close to Pedro when you saw her touch his bicep. Slowly running her hand down his forearm, she batted her eyelashes and twirled her hair with her other hand. She said something to him you couldn't hear, but the two of them began to smile, Pedro's eyes growing wide with his grin. He said something to her and they both laughed, him throwing his upper half forward in a classic Pedro laugh.

That's it. I can't do it. I can't be here and see this.

Turning on your heel, you made for the patio door. The crisp air hit your face, urging the tears to fall immediately.

_____

Pedro laughed as the woman, Tricia, held up both hands in defense. "I SWEAR, Pedro. That's what she did. She touched my arm like that, twirled her hair, batted her eyelashes, and said "hey baby. Come here often?"

Pedro laughed, "oh man, that's so cheesy."

"I know!" Tricia laughed, holding her stomach.

Pedro raised an eyebrow. "Okay, you agree it's cheesy, yet I feel like every time I've seen you two together tonight, you're the one that can't keep your hands off of her," he stated with a sassy smirk.

"Alright, you caught me," Tricia replied with a laugh, right as her girlfriend Sam walked up in a matching skeleton costume. Sam handed Tricia a cup of purple liquid and asked what they were laughing about.

"I asked how you two got together," Pedro replied with a chuckle.

"Oh, gosh, I can only imagine how she's spun the story this time!" Sam replied with an eye roll and a quick kiss to Tricia's lips. Seeing the two love-birds kiss made Pedro long to experience that with you.

Where did she go? There's no way she's still getting a drink.

He excused himself and headed towards the bar, but you weren't there. Then he walked towards the bathroom to check the line. Nope.

Finally he looked to the left and saw you, leaning against the balcony which overlooked the city.

He pulled the sliding door open, slipping outside into the cool October night. The patio was mostly empty, apart from a few stragglers on the far side of the rooftop, sitting at the patio furniture underneath a heat lamp. Most of the guests had gone inside when the temperature began to dip. He walked towards you, saying your name to gain your attention, but you didn't turn. Too deep in your thoughts.

"Are you okay? What are you doing out here all alone?" He touched your shoulder gently.

Startled, you tried to quietly sniffle and wipe your wet eyes without him noticing, careful to avoid smudging your mascara.

You turned to face him, planting another fake smile on your face. "Yeah I'm fine, just needed some air, that's all. You?"

"I can tell you're not okay. What's wrong?" He frowned, stepping closer to you and eyeing the red stain on your dress. Confusion laced across his face.

You stepped back a half-step away from his touch. "It's nothing, it just seems it isn't my night I guess… but you look like you're having fun. Get back in there and dance with Sarah and Oscar," you said with a gentle smile. "I think I might head out. Skipper is probably wondering where I am, anyway."

"I'm sorry you're not having a good time. Let me at least give you a ride home," he pleaded with his brown eyes. This was the first time all night you had actually made eye contact with him, finally seeing just how handsome he really was in person.

Yeah. There's no way he'd go for me. That's for sure.

"No, no please, you stay, I'll just get an Uber. It's fine! Thank you for inviting me tonight though, Pedro. That was really sweet of you."

"I'm not letting you take an Uber home when I'm right here."

"No, dont. I don't want you to miss the party…" you added.

"I've partied enough tonight. Come on, I'm taking you home. No arguments," he pressed, puppy dog eyes unwavering in his demand.

Seriously this man could get away with murder the way he looks with those eyes.

"Okay. Fine, if you really don't mind," you finally agreed, not that it was even an option.

He gave a quick explanation to his friends with a brief wave before the two of you headed out the front door. You scowled at the guard as you walked past.

Thanks for ruining my night, asshole.

After receiving his car from the valet, Pedro pulled open the passenger door for you, gesturing for you to climb inside.

Nobody has ever opened the car door for me before, other than my dad.

What a gentleman...

Just because you were upset didn't mean you weren't zapped with a feeling of adrenaline and love at his chivalrous action. Whoever ends up with him is a lucky person.

You climbed in the passenger seat and he went around the car, entering the driver's side.

Not only did you feel like you ruined the party, but you worry you may have ruined your shot altogether. Why would Pedro want you after you didn't even talk to him your first night out together?

_____

*Pedro's POV*

As he climbed into his seat, buckling up and starting the ignition, he couldn't help but wonder where the night went wrong.

Did I say something to offend her?

He began to replay all the conversations you'd had tonight, trying to figure out when your sadness began and what could have caused it.

The party conversations? The texts? The phone calls?

Nothing came to mind, which worried him even more that he could be so ignorant to have said something hurtful without realizing.

Pedro looked over at you in his passenger seat. You were curled toward the side, arms scrunched toward your body and looking out the window. Silent. Just the occasional sound of a sniffle, or a road direction for him to take toward your house.

He wanted so badly to reach over and touch you. Hold your hand and rub his thumb over your fingers to comfort you in any way possible while driving. Then, he'd pull you into his arms the second you two got out of the car.

But he knew he couldn't. You weren't his to hold.

Was her crush at the party too? Could he have hurt her somehow?

He felt anger flare into his system at whatever could have made you cry. You deserved the world and he wished he could spend every day trying to prove it to you.

_____

*Back to your perspective*

About 20 minutes later, you quietly said "this is me."

Pedro put the car in park, and told you to wait. Confused, you sat, but he ran around the car and opened the door for you.

What. The. Hell. Is he real?

You stood from the car, fluffing down your ruined princess dress. "Thank you Pedro. You really didn't have to give me a ride, I feel bad you went out of your way. I'm sorry if I ruined your night."

"Hey, whoa, don't apologize. There's no way you ruined my night, and don't worry about the ride. I feel better knowing you made it home safely from me than some taxi service," Pedro placed his hand on his heart.

"Well, thank you either way. It was nice getting to finally meet you in person…"

"It was nice meeting you too," he shifted his weight, awkwardly wondering how to proceed.

"You should go. Get back to your party before you miss anything else! I'm sure Oscar and Sarah miss you," you prompted.

"Oh, I'm not going back. I'll just call it a night and head home. It's not as fun without my date, anyway." He smirked, and you couldn't help but wonder if he was flirting with you. Probably just being nice.

"You aren't going back??"

"Nah, I'm good. But…" he rubbed the back of his neck with his palm.

"What?" You felt nervous.

"Can I ask why you're so upset? You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to. It's just… if I did something or said something to upset you… I'm so sorry," he said, and you could actually feel the genuine sadness in his voice.

"Oh, Pedro. No. You did nothing wrong. It's just," you sighed. "Do you want to come in?"

You worried about asking and seeming too forward, but now that it's out there it can't be taken back.

Friends go over to other friend's houses. It's totally fine and normal.

"I, uh, sure," Pedro stumbled over his words. "I'd love to. If you don't mind." He seemed nervous and a little surprised at your invitation.

You unlocked your door and the two of you entered. Instantly, you were greeted by your boy, who was all too happy to have a new friend. His tail wagged, smacking against nearby surfaces.

Pedro's face lit up instantly, and he crouched down to Skip's level. Letting Skipper get a good sniff, you heard Pedro gently coo to your dog. "Hi buddy!! I'm Pedro. I've heard so much about you." He scratched behind his ears.

Your heart swelled. Here they were, two of your favorite boys, bonding like old friends.

Pedro stood up again, giving a final scratch to Skipper's head before turning to you. "So, do you want to talk about it? What happened tonight?"

You ushered him to the kitchen table, asking him if he would like a drink. "Sure, thanks. Just water, please."

You poured two glasses of water and sat at the table near him, finally delving into the events of the evening. You told him about the bouncer and the woman with her drink. "I also saw that one girl talking to you and being really touchy and flirty and I felt like I was intruding."

I was also really fucking jealous…

"Wait, what girl?"

He repeated the evening's events through his mind. He wasn't flirting or being touchy? Who were you - Oh. Tricia, when she was describing Sam. Were you jealous of her? He allowed his mind to wonder, slightly hopeful that you might want more.

"I guess I just… I don't really feel like I fit in here. I don't look like I fit in here. I don't act like I fit in here. I honestly don't even know why you're as nice to me as you are. I wonder why you want to be my friend. Not that I'm not happy about it, because I am, but-"

He cut off your ramblings. "Whoa, whoa, hey. Sweetheart. You belong here. People just don't know you yet. That bouncer was totally out of line and a complete asshole. That woman, who spilled her drink on you, was rude, offensive, and nasty; and I don't tolerate that kind of behavior. Especially towards those I care about. The second she came over, I could tell she was a snake. I didn't give her the time of day. And lastly, the girl you saw being touchy was my friend Tricia. She was describing how her girlfriend picked her up in a bar," he laughed.

"Oh," you listened to his words, still not making eye contact, looking at your hands on the table.

"And as for you," he prompted, "I'm nice to you because you deserve it. You're sweet and funny, and I'm so thankful to have met you. I talk to you because I like talking to you. I enjoy spending time with you, whether it's on the phone, or, even better, when I get to see your face. Although I have to say I hate to see it crying." He brushed away a tear from your cheek, and you gave a small laugh, wiping the rest of your face.

"Thanks Pedro. I'm sorry if I brought down your night. I just really wanted tonight to be special, and it felt like my carriage turned back into a pumpkin before I even started." You gave another defeated laugh.

"You didn't ruin my night. If anything I'm just disappointed you didn't say anything, so I could help cheer you up or we could go do something else." He paused, brushing your hair from your eyes. "By the way, I never did get to tell you how beautiful you look in that dress, princesa."

Your cheeks heated under his gaze. "T-thanks Pedro. You look pretty handsome there, yourself," you answered nervously. It was the first time you had truly looked at him all night, and he was more beautiful than you ever could have imagined. Even pictures didn't do him justice. Dressed in a white suit with golden epaulets and golden buttons on the jacket, he was the most charming prince you'd ever seen.

Pedro rubbed his neck. "Thank you." He smiled. "But, hey, just because the night didn't go your way doesn't mean we can't turn it around."

You smirked. "That's true. Do you wanna watch a movie or something? Because if so, I think I might change out of this costume real quick," you began to stand.

"Whoa, not so fast princesa," he grabbed your arm.

You turned and gave him a confused look.

"Not before I share a dance with you in that dress. I've been waiting all night," he held out his hand.

"Really?" The grin on your face lit up, and you pulled him towards your music room where you stored your records.

"Wow. This is amazing. You have so many records and instruments in here! Is this where you write your music, too?"

"Yep! Here's where the magic happens," you answered with a laugh, pulling out an old record filled with slow love songs of the 50's and 60's. You placed the needle on the record, hearing a soft crackle as it began to play.

Pedro pulled you into his chest, grabbing your right hand with his left and gently placing his right hand on your waist. You slid your left hand up to his shoulder and smiled up at him as the two of you gently swayed to the music.

One song turned into two. Then three, and finally four; the two of you holding each other, silent except for the soft music turning from your record player on the desk. At some point you took the risk and decided to rest your face on his chest while the two of you swayed. His head rested on top of yours, both of you breathing softly, eyes closed, with you listening to the rhythmic drumming of his heart in his chest.

The record crackled with the end of the first side and the two of you looked at each other. You didn't miss the quick glance he stole from your eyes down to your lips, and you began to slowly lean closer.

Is this it?! Am I finally going to have my first kiss?!

You continued leaning closer, both his and your eyes gently closing. You could feel his breath fanning across your nose when-

Clunk clunk clunk. Pant pant. Whine.

You and Pedro opened your eyes, confusion painting your expressions as you turned your faces away from each other towards the sound. Still held in each other's arms, you peeled your eyes away from each other to see Skipper looking at you both with a big doggy grin on his face. His tail smacked the table with a thump thump, and he let out soft little whines and coos for attention.

The two of you laughed, the moment over, as you both kneeled down to give pets while Skip wedged between the two of you. Although you were disappointed the kiss was interrupted, you can't be mad at such a cute face. Still scratching your dog, you looked across to Pedro on the other side of Skipper. The two of you shared a soft look and smile, filled with so many unsaid words and feelings.

"So, uh.. how about that movie?" Pedro asked, still smiling.

______

You changed out of your princess costume into a comfier movie watching outfit and he changed out of his prince costume. He had some clothes in his car, which he changed into, looking handsome as ever. He wore a navy blue sweater with jeans, both fitting him perfectly. The two of you settled on your couch and turned on a movie. Although you sat next to each other, you kept a friendly distance, neither of you wanting to push the other too far.

As the movie rolled on, you had a hard time focusing on the plot with him so close. He looked so cozy and soft, you just wanted to climb in his lap. You wanted him to hold your hand. You wanted to finish that kiss. He smelled nice, he looked nice, and you wanted him more than anything else in this world.

Without realizing it, you gravitated closer. Your body inched toward him, and without him realizing it, he inched closer as well. It wasn't long until your leg was brushed against his. Just the slight touch of his leg on yours was enough to send an electric feeling pulsing through your body. The tension was as tight as an electrical cable, slowly fraying until it eventually snaps into sparks.

Pedro's fingers twitched at his side, his jaw clenching and unclenching. Your eyes kept sneakily darting over to him, his doing the same at opposite times. Your hearts were racing, breathing quick and shallow. The movie finally ended, neither of you able to tell someone the storyline if asked.

You nervously turned towards Pedro, rubbing the back of your neck. "So that was some movie…"

"Yeah, that ending… it was-" his eyes darted to your lips. "Something." He looked into your eyes, hand settling on your thigh as the two of you once again began to lean in closer. You had just shut your eyes, noses brushing together, when he pulled away.

What the heeeeeeeellllll??? Whyyyy!?

You couldn't help but let out a whimper as you opened your eyes after the second failed kiss of the evening.

Pedro sat with his elbows on his lap, holding his face in his hands. "I'm so sorry…"

"What? Pedro? Why are you sorry? What's wrong? Did I - did I do something wrong?"

Do I smell bad? Does he not like me? Was this some sick joke?

"I don't know what I'm doing. I'm sorry. I let my feelings get in the way, and I shouldn't have done that. You're in love with someone else. I can't steal your first kiss. You deserve to have it with the man you really love."

"Pedro-" you tried to pry his hand from his face.

"No. I'm sorry if I ruined things. I should probably leave-" he began to stand up, but you grabbed his forearm and pulled him back down.

"Stop. Pedro," you begged.

He sat back down, looking into your eyes guiltily.

You continued. "Please don't apologize. I wanted you to kiss me…"

"But that guy in your song. You deserve to be with him. I've been letting my feelings take over and stealing all your time away on the phone and text, video chat, and now in person. I almost stole your first kiss from you twice tonight and-" he rambled on, once again throwing his hands over his face before you interrupted him again.

"Pedro.." you pulled his hand away from his face, leaving yours to hold his cheek instead, but he still avoided your eyes. Taking a deep breath, you figured it was time to take the plunge.

"It's you, Pedro."

His eyes glanced up to yours. "What?"

"It's you. It's always been you. You're the one I like."

"Wait, so you mean-"

"Yes. The songs, the interviews, our chats… I've been talking about you this whole time. I really, really, like you."

Pedro gave a gentle smile, leaning his face into your hand. "I like you too, baby," he whispered.

His hand moved from his cheek to yours and the two of you leaned in. Closing your eyes, you brushed your noses together before you whispered "please kiss me.

You could feel a soft smile as he pressed his lips to yours, first gentle and soft, then stronger and more desperate. Although the kiss was still very tame, you could both feel all the emotions you've been harboring for each other for so long.

Breathless, the two of you pulled back, falling into a gentle laughter. "You don't know how long I've been waiting for that kiss," you spoke softly, wanting to keep the words as quiet as possible, heard only within the tiny bubble you currently shared.

"Me too," he smiled, pressing another kiss to your lips.

"I think you were worth the wait," you pecked his lips.

"I think you were too," he rested his head on your forehead with his hand on your neck, lightly stroking over your hair.

"I like you." You giggled.

"I like you too." He grinned. "But, you know, if I remember correctly, 'like' wasn't the word you used in your song…" he teased.

Your stomach flipped. "I don't want to scare you off too soon, P."

"You won't, sweetheart. You couldn't if you tried. I feel the same way." He kissed your forehead.

You looked at him, and feeling slightly nervous, yet calmed by his deep brown eyes, you told him those important words that have been spilling from your chest in silence.

"I love you Pedro."

"I love you too," he grabbed your face, once again pressing a kiss to your lips, this one much deeper than the others, before pulling you into his arms. The two of you were finally together. Finally you had love. All the things you wanted were coming true.

Turns out you got your happily ever after tonight after all.

__________

To be continued...

That's all for now! I hope you liked this chapter. I've received a lot of kind messages and DMs saying how much you guys relate to the reader and I just want to say thank you. It really means a lot to me that people are finding something to relate to. I'm essentially just using this fic as my diary, because she is pretty much just me. So to see others feeling the same way, it makes my heart so full! I send hugs to all of you.

Next Chapter! Here!

Taglist: (Want in? Let me know!) If I forget to add anyone, I'm sorry!

@pedrotonin @starcrossed02 @lightupsketchersperson @cartoon-garbage04 @tyferbebe @maryfanson @gwendibley84 @faithfullyyours2000 @brilliantopposite187 @hc-geralt-23 @jenniferpendragon @winchestergypsy90 @red-red-rogue @theendwhereibegin @lottieellz101 @oliversaurus @kyga01 @milly-louise @titabel @taz-97 @stefanibear003 @marantha @fandomoniumflurry @ilovemybrown-eyedbabygirl

[wonijinjin]

thinkin’ about you

author’s note: inspired by the song ‘thinkin’ about you’ by seventeen. also, this fic will probably get a second part, because i just cannot leave this on a cliffhanger without a sequel, that would be a shame

update: second part of this fic can be found here.

synopsis: you drinking a little too much and calling joshua to take you home wasn’t the best idea, or was it?

word count: 1.2k | genre: fluff, mutual pining, kinda slowburn, the tiniest bit of hurt/comfort and angst, close friends to something more | pairing: joshua x gn! reader | warnings: mentions of alcohol and being tipsy/drunk, the curse word ‘fuck’

your exam season at university was finally over, and to celebrate passing your tests you and your friends decided on going out to party at a club in the city. it was already past midnight, the party going on for several hours at that point, when you started to get really tired, having had multiple shots and cocktails, but your friends insisted on staying a bit longer. you could feel yourself get tipsier by the minute so you thought the safest option would be going home before you did something stupid or embarrassing you would regret in the morning. you took out your phone and dialed the first number that came to mind, your close friend’s, joshua’s. while waiting for him to pick up the phone your messy thoughts wondered to your long existing not so platonic feelings for him. he made your heart jump every time you thought about him, which was almost always, not just due to your feelings, but because you spent a lot of time with him on a daily basis as he was a very dear person to your heart. you have known him for as long as you can remember, and he was truly the most amazing friend you had, always being there for you, always treating you with so much care. he was like this with most of his friends, he cherished people around him and never took them for granted, you really admired him for this. you sometimes hated loving him, because it was so difficult to keep your emotions to yourself for this exact reason. who could blame you though? he was all anyone would wish for in a partner, kind, intelligent, considerate, caring.

“hello? y/n? what’s up?” he said as he picked up, voice hoarse, laced with sleep. “ah were you sleeping? sorry, should’ve known you need your beauty sleep to be this handsome.” you slurred, clearly more drunk than you thought. “were you drinking?” he questioned “are you hurt or something?” his voice sounded concerned. you laughed at this “nooo silly, i am perfectly fine, i had so much fun” there was a moment of silence before you continued “…but i need a favor, all my friends want to stay here longer, so i need a ride home. no way i’m getting into a car driven by a stranger, plus i don’t even have enough money for a taxi.” you expected him to say no, after all, it was in fact the middle of the night and he clearly had better plans on how to spend his. he sighed on the other end of the line “fine, i would much rather drive you home than letting you ask a stranger from the club to do it when you are clearly wasted as fuck.” he said while shuffling echoed in the phone, indicating that he was already getting up and changing. you knew he was right; you were not in the best shape. maybe the last margarita was a bit too much? “thank you shua baby.” the nickname slipped out on accident and if you were sober you would’ve gasped and started apologising right away, saying that he should forget about this, but you couldn’t really care less in that moment. you could hear the hitch in his breathing and the tension in his voice when he said goodbye over the phone, asking for your location and saying he would text you when he was there. you wondered; maybe drinking was a good decision, maybe getting a bit bold with words is what you needed as encouragement to tell him the secret you’ve been hiding for quite a while now, maybe you should really confess to him while you are not scared of the consequences.

20 minutes later you got the text from him and you were ready to leave. your confident march from the entrance to the car failed though when you tripped over your own feet, almost breaking half of your bones in the process. “oh my god y/n how much did you drink?” someone asked while helping in restoring your balance. you knew it was joshua right away, that voice cannot be mistaken for anybody else. “a little too much, i think?” you giggled. joshua took you to his car and opened the door for you to climb into the passenger seat. “wow thank you this is so fancy i feel like royalty.” you commented, still grinning. “well i do feel like a personal chauffeur now, coming here just to be taking your ass home. let’s go, put that leg inside so we can go, your highness.” he demanded while grabbing your leg, tired of waiting for you to clumsily get into the vehicle.

after he shut the door and got in himself to start the engine you two sat in silence for a little while before you spoke up. “i’m really sorry you have to take me home, i know i was selfish for asking, but i really didn’t have a better plan. i didn’t feel like i was this drunk when i was inside, but sitting here made me regret having the last drinks.” he looked at you at the red light. “look, i don’t mind this, really. you are one of my best friends, i would do this a hundred times if it meant you got home safely and some weirdo didn’t kidnap you or something. also, you thinking about me first when asking for help is quite flattering too you know.” he smirked. you nodded, eyes getting heavy suddenly from all that partying. “i can see you almost falling asleep. there’s a jacket on the back seat if you want it as a makeshift blanket. i will wake you when we get there. go to sleep y/n.” you didn’t bother to search for the jacket, just closed your eyes, letting sleep overtake you. “what you said is true. i do think about you a lot, shua. probably more than a close friend should.” you mumbled, already half asleep, still not sobering up enough to control and censor your thoughts before saying them out loud. “what do you mean?” his eyes went wide and he looked in your direction as if he misheard what you had said, only to see you knocked out cold, sleeping soundly like a baby. on the way to your house he couldn’t stop himself from replaying your words in his head over and over again while he checked on you from time to time to see if you were alright. he couldn’t believe what he had just heard, that you might’ve felt something more for him, something friends don’t feel, something he had been suppressing for a long time, a warm feeling in his chest. when you arrived he turned off the car, however didn’t have the heart to wake you. he knew you were exhausted, so he draped his jacket over you, and let you sleep for a bit longer, watching you rest so peacefully after shaking up his heart with your drunk monologue. he didn’t know if he should believe you, if he really had a chance of being more than friends with you after all these years. he got comfortable in his seat, facing your form, eyes looking at your still face.

“i know you are sleeping, but just so you know we will definitely have to talk about this little sentence of yours in the morning y/n. i do think about you a lot too, you know? you need to be more clear next time, because you cannot do this to me, driving me crazy and leaving me to chase false hopes.”

[e-dubbc11]

Hello Fall!! (It’s also my birthday month)500 Follower Celebration!

Photos are not mine. They are courtesy of Pinterest//Google.

Greetings and salutations my darling friends!

As you gathered from the title, I have reached the milestone of 500 lovely friends AND it is also my birthday month (it’s the 29th, write that down. Kidding, I’m kidding!) Anyway, I thought it would be fun to do a little celebration. It’s also my favorite time of year, it’s filled with apple picking, cider, pretty leaves, Halloween, all things flannel and all things cozy.

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[emilyssky]

Chapter 8: Maybe

PAIRING: Lee Know! X fem!reader

GENRE(S): college au, smut, angst

WARNINGS: Mentions of violence and abuse, depression, self-harm, eating disorders etc.. mentions of blood, swearing, smoking, smut [ dirty talk, oral; giving and receiving, choking, spanking, praising, degradation, pet names, sometimes Minho is a dick :)

SUMMARY: "Do you remember what you told me the first time we met?"  

"What?"

"You said; Always leave people a little better than you found them" he looked at the floor with a small smile for a few seconds and then his eyes found mine. "You really annoyed me when we first met. I envied your optimism and excitement for life. But each time I saw you, I felt a certain thrill. You made me angry, you made me laugh., you made me feel everything. Something about you made me feel a little more alive each time. I know I fucked up and I know I'm an asshole but I'm also brutally in love with you."    

Minho's POV:

I run a hand through my sweaty hair, in attempt to fix it but it's pointless, I need a shower. I love this feeling though. The sweat running down your forehead, the air leaving your lungs, the sound of your heart beating filling your ears. Mornings like these are my favorite, especially now that most of the students are gone cause of the winter break and the studio is almost empty, and I have basically the whole place to myself. I have been coming to dance more and more in the past few weeks and I admit that it did start because of her but coming here again made me realize just how much I've missed it. So now it's something that I do for myself, watching her is a plus. I gulp down half of my water bottle and pull my phone out of my pocket. I have 2 missed calls from Chan. I know that he's been suspecting something for a few days now, he's not stupid but I've been avoiding him only because I know that he's gonna go all protective over his best friend and I don't really wanna deal with a talk like that right now. He is, however, one of the closest people to me and I can't really avoid him much longer. I send him a quick text, telling him that I'll come over and put my phone back in my pocket. I adjust the strap of my dance bag as I continue to walk until I hear the all-too-familiar song playing and freeze. She has 10 specific songs that she uses, so it's easy for me to know whenever she's here. I smile to myself and turn to the opposite hall without even thinking. I stop at the door and scoot a bit to the left so she won't see me. From where I'm standing I see her from the side, her hair is in a high ponytail with a few loose curls escaping and falling down her face and neck. She's dressed in a black sweater and black boodie shorts that hug her ass perfectly. I let my eyes travel from the curve of it down to her long, toned legs and can't help but lick my lips at the sight. She usually hides her body underneath layer and layer of clothes way too big for her, so this is a rare sight that I only get to see when I'm secretly watching her practice every Monday, Tuesday, and Saturday morning, maybe Friday night if I'm lucky. It's something I look forward to after my practice. I won't ever say it out loud though, I wouldn't ever admit how I can stand hours behind the thick glass, watching her body move to the music. Watching the way her long curly hair moves when she turns on her toes or how delicate her hand movements look even from far away. She reminds me of a bird when she dances. It's like her feet don't even touch the ground with hands as delicate and light as wings and her movements so perfectly blended together, that it's mesmerizing. She is fascinating to me in so many ways, until she opens her mouth. Fuck, she can make my eyes roll all the way to the back of my head. She's challenging me in a way that I never expected and how much I'm drawn to her is something I'm not ready to admit yet. Being a dick to her didn't work, she's not the type of girl that bites her tongue, but avoiding her didn't work either. Not to mention how fucking hard it was. Her presence alone is enough to light up a whole fucking room. She carries a certain light with her that annoys me to no end, mostly because she reminds me so much of my sister that sometimes I let my walls down without even realizing it. Both hold the same light in their eyes and that vibrating smile. She reminds me of myself as well. The side of me I lost. The passion in her eyes, the energy she carries, and the determination that she has. In her eyes, I see so many things. Things that I desperately wanna forget. Things I avoid facing and run away from. I see judgment in her eyes. They're like a mirror and all I can see is my shitty ass self. I don't stand there much longer. With everything that's happening between me and her, my head is all over the place. I don't know what I want or what I am doing even but I can't seem to stay away from her. But I have to, I know I have to. I don't want her to get involved with my mess.

I reach the frat in only 10 minutes and Felix is the one to open the door.

"Hey" He offers me a bright smile. That kid is such a joy to be around.

"Hey man," I pat his shoulder. "Is Chan here?"

His nods. "He's in his room."

"How's Hyujin?" I ask out of curiosity. Hyunjin and I have an interesting type of relationship, I guess you would say. He's one of the very, very few people that can bring me to my limits in an incredibly short amount of time and have a smile on his face while doing it, so torturing his annoying ass in many different ways has become a new form of entertainment for me.

His eyes widen slightly.

"Y/n left in a hurry yesterday because something happened with Hyunjin." I clarify.

"Oh," He relaxes. "He's trying." He drags out the words.

"A woman?" I smile sympathetically.

He sighs. "Yeah"

"It'll get better." I try to comfort him.

"I hope so."

I gave him one last sympathetic look and jogged up the stairs. I knocked on Chan's door twice before opening it, not waiting for him to answer.

"I have arrived," I announce.

"I have noticed." He chuckles back. He's sitting on his bed with his laptop on his legs.

I drop my bag beside the door and take a seat on the bed. "Are you working?"

"Just some touch-ups," He says and closes the laptop, putting it beside him. "Were you at the dance studio?"

"I worked with Changbin a bit, we finished Seungmin's part, and then I went to the dance studio," I explain, even though I know why he's asking.

He nods several times and takes a deep breath through his nose, kinda like he's preparing himself for what he's about to say. "Um listen-"

"I know what you're about to say." I stop him. "And there's no reason for us to talk about this." I try to avoid the conversation before he starts talking cause I know that he will not stop.

He rubs the back of his neck awkwardly. "Minho, I'm not stupid nor blind."

"But you are wrong. It's not like that-" I begin to say but he's the one to cut me off now.

"Minho" He gives me a knowing look. "She's my best friend."

"I know." I sigh, giving up, and letting him talk.

"And you're one of my best friends as well." He adds.

"I know." I run a hand through my hair not knowing what to do with my hands.

"What I'm trying to say is that I know her and I know you."

I rest my head against the wall and focus my eyes on the wall in front of me. I really don't wanna be having this conversation. I haven't even figured shit out myself. But one thing I can never do is lie to Chan.

"Nothing has happened between us." I honestly say.

"I see the way you look at her and I see the ways you guys talk and tease each other." He lifts a brow. "I haven't seen you like that with any other girl, and I've known you for what? Almost three years now?" He laughs and I can feel a small amount of weight leaving my shoulders knowing that he's not ready to cut my dick off.

I fight a smile and shake my head. "No honestly, nothing's up. She's just fun to tease."

He leans closer and puts a hand on my shoulder. "Listen you've been through a lot of shit and there are times when she's around that I can see a genuine smile on your lips, even when you're trying to hide it. You're dancing and you're not locked up in your room. I'm happy to see you like this, making progress. She has that effect on people, you know. She's such a bright person." His smile falls slightly. "But Y/n has also been through a lot. She has had ups and downs with her mental health ever since I met her but the past year she's been struggling, especially after her last relationship."

The sudden anger that spreads through my body even at the mention of her ex shocks me a bit, remembering all the things she admitted to me that Chan doesn't know about. That time at the party when I caught them fighting in the kitchen, I acted out of instinct. When I saw her against the counter with her eyes full of hidden fear I didn't even think about it, all I knew is that I had to take her away from him. It's something that I have done more times than I can count for my mother and my sister. My anger at the beginning was towards her cause she was one of the millions of women that chose to stay silent but the growing protectiveness I feel toward her now is a feeling I can't quite figure out. The night she opened up to me about him, I stayed up, debating whether or not I would go and beat the shit out of him until he physically couldn't walk. I think that was the night I realized how much power she has over me. She has changed since I met her a year ago. I don't know what about her is different but something is. I can tell cause I've memorized every single thing about her and searched for her around campus. That night hunted me. I remember everything I felt, the heaviness in my chest and the absolute numbness that had taken over my emotions. She came out of nowhere, and I remember thinking that her voice was so annoying that I just wanted her to leave. I wanted to be alone. But she stayed and would not stop talking. Her eyes; big, bright, and full of light. A shade of green, I've never seen. Her eyes that night stared at mine and I felt annoyed, judged, and fascinated at the same time. The more I looked at her the more mesmerized I became by her. Her resemblance to my sister was amazing, in every way. The way she spoke and moved was so unique yet familiar. Simply drawing. If I'm being honest, I had made my decisions and owned my mistakes. I was at peace knowing it was finally time to give up. But just like that, she stood there, like a mirror in front of me. A reminder. A clear reflection of what I had become and all the things I could be. She spoke with so much passion about life that I got jealous. Never in my life have I met anyone like her. After she left I stayed there, in the same spot for at least an hour, her words being the only thing on my mind. I realized that; that was kind of like my second chance, a reality check. She came to offer me a second chance in life. And as much as I hated her being there at the time, as much as her words were cutting through me like a fucking knife, I needed it. I picked myself up. Piece after piece and even though life's still shit, her words were a constant motivation to keep moving, and at the end of the day; I'm still here. Alive. Well, kinda.

"My point is," he continues."Whatever you do, be careful." He kept his face natural, with his usual half smile but I could hear the hidden warning in his tone. I nod my head not knowing how to reply. I don't wanna say anything. I don't wanna talk about her.

"Alright, I'll go take a shower and then you can jump in afterward, cause no offense but you stink mate." He makes a face.

"Shut up. " I roll my eyes.

He grabs some clothes. "You could join me if you want, to save water and all." He smirks.

I grab the nearest pillow and throw it at him, which he easily avoids and disappears into the bathroom laughing.

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Y/n's POV:

I was practicing in the studio when Felix called me.

"He could come and stay with us for a few days." I offer, not really knowing what to say or do to help.

"I don't think it will make any difference," Felix says. "I think he just wants to be alone right now."

"I can understand that" I mutter. Jackson was my first real relationship and that heartbreaking feeling that weighed on my chest months even after our break is one that I don't wish upon anyone. Even though I know that what we had was not love, I still loved him.

"It's just hard seeing him like that." he sighs.

"I know." My heart tightens at how sad Felix sounds. He cares deeply about people, especially when it comes to his friends. He, Chan, and Hyunjin are like brothers so seeing Hyunjin in pain must be hard for him. "I can come over later, maybe we can watch a movie or something. It will help him get his mind off of her." I offer.

"Yeah sure, that sounds nice."

"I'll be there around 8."

"Okay"

"Bye Felix."

I've been practicing all morning and my feet are honestly killing me. After I came home I took a shower, trying to relax my sore muscles and I've been laying in my bed ever since. I've been switching between Netflix and my book for the past few hours until I finally decided to get ready. Today is one of those days that I would want nothing more than to bury myself under my sheets and not talk or see anyone and it sucks. I take a breath, leaving the comfort of my bed to start getting dressed. I don't do much, I throw on a pair of jeans and a hoodie, deciding to bury myself under the thick clothing. I don't bother with makeup or my hair besides running my fingers through them a bit and I'm out of the door. I wrap my arms around my body and fasten my walk to the frat house. I somehow thought that I'd d be fine with just my hoodie, completely forgetting the fact that it's almost Christmas and it's freezing. At least the frat is only about 15 minutes away from our apartment. I reach the door and press the doorbell. Once, twice and as I'm about to press it for the third time, the cold air pushing me to my limits, the door opens and I freeze as I come face to face with his big, brown eyes. 

Close. He's standing so close.

"Fuck," I curse, placing my hand over my heart. "You scared me."

He opens the door a bit more, leaning into the doorway. "Lovely to see you too, angel."

My heart flatters at the sight of his smile but I push the thought away and my way through the door. "Stop calling me that."  I take my shoes off.

"Why? Do you like it that much?" His smile grows along with my annoyance. I'm annoyed cause in fact I think I kind of do. Or mostly I like what it does to me, the way it makes me feel. Then again maybe I like the fact that he cares enough to have a specific nickname for me. Not that I would know if he uses it with other women as well..

"What are you even doing here?" I walk to the stairs, searching for any sight of my friends.

"I happen to have friends who live here." He follows me.

"Funny." I reach the top of the stairs and turn to him. Why is he even following me? Where's everyone? I look around the first floor.

"I am." He chuckles, standing right in front of me with his arms crossed over his chest. The sleeves of his black hoodie are lifted up to his elbow. He has such nice hands, I think to myself.

"You are a lot of things." I mumble under my breath, peeling my eyes away from his body. Heat starts rising inside me. He's standing too close to me, with a stupid grin on his face, and none else around us. My walls are shaking, starting to slowly tear down in moments like this, where I could have a playful, simple conversation with him without burning anger building inside of me at the audacity of his cruel words. But I don't let myself relax too much, it's a matter of time before he snaps back on me.

"Oh, you have no idea." He breathes out, lowering his voice and head. He takes a few steps closer to me. What is he doing? My mind starts spinning, and all the possible things I can say or do run through my head but instead, I take a step to the left, pulling away for him.

"You smell." I say quickly and turn around and down the hall, not giving him a chance to say anything back.

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"Hey," I wrap my hands around him, bringing him into a tight hug. His hair is still a bit dump for his shower and the scent of his caramel body wash immediately hits my nose. "how are you doing?"

"Fine." He mumbles in the crook of my neck. "I just want everyone to stop treating me like I'm made of glass."

"We're just worried about you Hyunjin." Felix says, laying on his stomach on Hyunjin's bed. Huynjin releases me and throws himself beside Felix.

"All of you guys have been through a breakup. I guess it's my time." His eyes are still a bit bloodshot, probably from last night. Felix told me that he wouldn't stop crying. When I broke up with Jackson both Felix and Hyunjin were over at my apartment every single day, trying to make me feel better, in every way they could. There were times when I wouldn't even get out of bed so they would stay in bed with me and we would watch stupid reality shows and old Disney movies. They were there for me so now that Hyunjin's going through the same thing I wanna be there for him as much as I can as well.

"You know what?" I place my hands on my hips. "I think you did enough mopping over her cheating ass. It's time to get your mind off her." I try to brighten the mood.

Both Felix and Hyunjin give me questioning looks. "What do you mean?" Hyunjin's eyebrows frown. His face is so puffy from crying that he looks incredibly cute.

"Get up." I pull him by the hand off the bed. "Let's go downstairs, make some drinks and snacks, and watch a fun movie." I open the door, dragging Hyunjin with me. Felix follows, giggling.

I release him as soon as we enter the kitchen, his shoulders fall and he takes a seat on a stool. I pull my phone out of my pocket, I'm gonna need some help.

"You're literally in my house, why are you calling me?" Chan picks up immediately.

"Come downstairs, now." I say and hang up.

"Y/n, I don't know If I'm-"

"No," I lift my finger. "4 days after I broke up with Jackson you showed up at my door. Remember what I did?"

"You tried to slam the door in my face." He wipes his nose with his sleeve.

"But you didn't leave me alone." I circle the counter to stand in front of him. "You sat with me in my bed as I cried my heart out and you didn't say a word." I push a piece of his blonde hair that's falling in his eyes back. His eyes begin to fill with tears and his full lips turn into a thin line. I know that face. "Please don't cry." I wrap my arms around him, panicking.

"It's not my fault, why did you have to get all emotional and shit..." He mumbles in my chest.

Felix lets out a laugh from his leaning position across the counter. "You guys are so dramatic." He shakes his head. "I'll get started on the drinks and leave you two emotionally damaged people to bond over making snacks."

"What's going on?" Chan walks into the kitchen with Minho following right behind. 

"We're bonding." Hyunjin says, not lifting his head from my chest.

I giggle giving him one last squeeze before releasing him. "Okay enough with the crying, let's make some brownies." I clap my hands together.

"What are we doing exactly?" Minho asks, confusion written all over his face.

"We're making drinks and snacks, and then we're watching a movie to cheer Hyunjin up."  Felix walks over to them. "Wanna help with the drinks?" He asks Chan.

"Yeah, sure." He immediately accepts, knowing he's not really good at cooking.

"You can go too, I'm sure you wouldn't wanna spend time making brownies with me." Hyunjin gets off the stool and glares at Minho on his way to the fridge. I look between them dumbfounded. Have I missed something?

Minho takes a few steps further into the kitchen, slowly approaching the end of the counter, with his hands crossed. "Stop being dramatic." He rolls his eyes.

"You told me that I'm the most annoying person you've ever met." Hyunjin narrows his eyes.

My jaw falls open. "Minho!" I gasp.

He takes a breath. "I was joking obviously. You're clearly not THE most annoying person, have you met Changbin?" I wanna laugh at his terrible attempt to fix what he said to Hyunjin but I bite my lip to hold it and pull out a bowl to start mixing the ingredients.

"Whatever, you can stay, only cause I'm a nice person unlike you." A small smile dances on Hyunjin's lips. " I'll go look for a pan." He turns to me.

"Okay, I'll start mixing the wet ingredients." I nod, getting the sugar and a cup to measure everything in.

He nods back and walks to the small pantry that they have beside the kitchen. He stops behind Minho. "I know you like me, you can stop this enemies-to-lovers thing." He says close to his ear and Minho flinches.

I let out a laugh, that quickly disappears the minute I realize that we're alone in the kitchen. The pantry where Hyunjin went to look for a pan is just across the hall, but knowing Hyunjin it will take him more than 5 minutes to actually locate the pans. I focus my eyes on the bowl in front of me as I pour the butter over the sugar and begin mixing them, while Minho stands silently at the opposite side of the counter. I know for a fact that he will not even try to start a conversation or do anything to make this uncomfortable silence go away so I force myself to stay focused on my task and ignore him. The butter begins to blend smoothly with the sugar, which is a sign to put the eggs in. From the corner of my eye, I see him move. I straighten my back, not wanting to appear as intimidating as I am by his presence. He stops to my right, close enough for me to smell Chan's body wash; so he must have taken a shower here. I wait for him to say something, anything but he stays silent, simply observing. The side of my face feels like it's on fire from his intense staring and I being to grow uncomfortable.

"Um, can you bring the eggs?" I clear my throat but neither his body nor his eyes move. I shift my balance from one foot to another, my hand moving faster as I feel my anxiety peeking. I sigh, realizing that he's not going to help me at all so I stop mixing and turn to the fridge but before I have the time to take a single step, he moves past me, his shoulder brushing mine. I focus my eyes back on the bowl as he moves silently to the fridge and back. His movements remind me of a cat's. Soundless, precise, and confident, executed with a look of boredom all over their face.

"How many do we need?" For some reason the way he said 'we' made a smile almost appear on my lips.

"Um," I think about how many pieces will be enough for all of us to eat. " about 3."  I say and reach for an egg.

"Let me." He takes it from my hand, in a surprisingly gentle way, almost as gentle as his tone. He seems to be in a good mood, a good mood for him at least and I begin to wonder why. He cracks 2 of the eggs inside the bowl and I mix them with the rest of the ingredients.

"Do you bake a lot?" He suddenly asks. My hand slows down for a second, caught by surprise by his sudden question. I don't think that he's ever asked me a simple question like this.

"Um, yeah." I hesitantly answer.

"Hm," He nods, breaking the third egg. "It looks like you know what you're doing."

I shrug pouring the flour into the mixture. "I bake a lot when I'm stressed."

"Which is often I'm guessing." He smirks.

I try not to smile at his comment but my face warms up either way. His energy is oddly positive. He shifts his weight, leaning towards me and observing my moves. The way that my body is drawn to his is ridiculous and the thoughts that go through my head make everything worst. Silence takes over us once again and my eyes flicked to the door every 10 seconds, silently hoping for Hyunjin to finally come.

I hear him chuckle under his breath.

"What?" I turn to him.

He leans into the counter with both of his hands and shakes his half-wet hair out of his eyes. I swallow; fuck he's attractive.

He half-smiles, in such a boyish way. "Do I make you uncomfortable?"

I look back down. "No." I lie

He leans back close to me, placing his hand next to my hip to my left trapping me like he did yesterday. I hold my breath as he looks over my shoulder, his chin almost touching it.

"I love making you nervous." His breath tickles my neck and chills spread down my spine and arms. He dips his finger into the mixture and brings it to his lips. My eyes follow the way his finger disappears into his mouth, his full lips sucking on it in a way that makes my legs grow closer.

His eyes lighten up. "Shit, this is good." He dips his finger again.

I let out a breath, relieved to see his attention turn to the brownies. "Really?"

"Yeah, try some." He takes some more on his finger and brings it to my lips.

I freeze. "No thanks." I awkwardly smile.

He frowns. "You made it, you have to try. " He pushes his finger closer to my lips.

"Minho, said no." I say a little louder, grabbing his wrist. I feel him stiffen, his eyes fall to my grip and then back to my eyes. My stomach drops. I dip the finger of my other hand into the mixture and drag it across his cheek, distracting him. His eyes widen, clearly not expecting that and I can't help but I laugh at his face.

"You're dead." His tongue pokes the inside of his cheek with a straight face.

He takes some more of the mixture and I turn around about to run but his hand sneaks around my waist pulling me back. My back hits his chest and I feel his finger spreading the brownie dough all over my cheek.

I bring my hands up to cover my face but he fights me with his free hand. "Minho, stop! " I try to sound annoyed but I giggle instead.

"You started it. " He laughs back and I swear it is one of the most lovely sounds I've ever heard. Even if I can't see him from my position, I can picture the smile on his face.

I kinda wish I could freeze this moment as well.

"Can you guys stop playing with my breakup brownies? " Hyunjin groans, finally entering the kitchen with 3 different pans in his hands. We both freeze but Minho's the one that moves away first. Almost too fast and sharper than I would like as if he hadn't realized what was happening until it was interrupted. His face drops any emotions that previously held and he goes to grab the pans from Hyunjin.

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"Hyunjin let's just start the movie. The brownies will be ready in a few minutes." Felix groans but Hyunjin shakes his head. Everyone has taken a seat on the large couch in the living room. Felix and Chan made Margaritas for all of us and after a lot of fighting, we decided to watch 'The Conjuring'. We were just about to start the movie but Hyujin refuses to watch anything until his brownies are ready.

"I said no." He stands his ground.

I give Felix a sympathetic look, knowing that Hyunjin is slowly bringing him to his limit, and get up. "Fine, I'll go check on the brownies." I walk back into the kitchen and kneel in front of the oven, checking if the brownies are ready. They could use a little more baking but I pull them out anyway.

"Hello, love" Kai, one of the other boys that live here enters the kitchen. There are 5 guys in total in the Frat, Hyunjin, Chan, Felix, Kai, and Jace. Kai is the one I like the most after the boys cause Jace can be a bit of an ass.

"Hi, Kai." I smile at him.

"What's going on? Are you guys having a movie night?" It's not often that either of them is home but whenever they are, they always stay locked up in their rooms. Kai sometimes comes downstairs to say hi to me or Emma and maybe hang out a bit with us so I'm definitely closer to him. He's quite tall, with messy blonde hair and the most perfect dimples I have ever seen.

"Yep." I begin to cut the brownies into squares.

"Fuck, they look delicious." He leans over the pan. "Can I have some?"

"Y/n." Both of our heads snap to the doorway where Minho is standing. His gaze moves between Kai and me. He must have a fucking radar or something. "Do you need any help?"

"Um-"

"Hey, man." Kai greeds Minho as he approaches the counter.

"How you've been Kai?" He pats Kai's back with a nod and walks past him to stand right beside me. Oh, so they know each other.

"Busy." he lets out a breathy laugh. "I'm happy that the semester's over."

Minho gives him an understanding nod and then copies Kai's previous position, leaning over my shoulder, and looking at the brownies. "They look good." He drags out in a low voice. I realize what he's doing and I have to stop the smile that threatens to form on my lips. He only seems to care about me whenever another person's involved. It does bother me but at the same time, I can't really stop myself from craving his attention in any way that I get it. I know it sounds weird but I want him to look at me, I want his eyes to search the room for me and I want him to be disappointed when I'm not there.

I take a breath and put a soft smile on my lips. I cut a small piece of brownie and move away from Minho's grip. "Here," I turn to Kai. "Try some."

He opens his mouth, taking the brownie from between my fingers with his lips. My back is completely turned to Minho, but I see Kai's eyes flicker behind me for a second.

"Oh, my god." He groans with his mouth full.

"How is it?" I place all the pieces on a large plate.

"It's incredible." He nods his head, with his eyes closed.

"What about me?" Minho puts his elbows on the counter, bringing his face right in front of mine. "I wanna try too." 

"You have hands." I take the plate in my hands and turn around, avoiding to look his way, while Kai's trying to hold his laughter but he's failing. "I'll see you around Kai." I exit the kitchen.

"Fucking finally," Hyunjin yells as I put the plate in the middle of the coffee table and I fall back to my seat beside Chan.

"I know that he's heartbroken and all but I swear I'm gonna murder him." Felix leans behind Chan's back and whispers to me. I cover my mouth with my hand trying to hold my laughter, Hyunjin can be too much when he's not in a good mood but if Felix has reached his limits the situation's bad. My laugh is cut short when I feel someone sitting beside me.

"You're not seating here." I lean a bit closer to whisper to him while keeping my eyes forward and the small smile on my lips that tries to hide the panic of Minho staying beside me for almost 2 hours. "I wanna watch the movie."

"None's stopping you, angel." Minho lifts both of his eyebrows at me before taking a brownie from the plate and popping it into his mouth.

"Okay, now we can begin the movie." Hyunjin takes 4 brownies and leans back, happily.

Felix shakes his head and presses play. I sigh and grab the blanket from the back of the couch, unfolding it.

"Are you cold?" Minho asks, without looking at me.

"She can't watch a movie without a blanket or something to cover her. " Chan explains. "She's weird like that."

"Shut up." I bring the blanket up to my shoulders. "Pass me my margarita."

I hold my hand out but he shakes his head. "Nope. No alcohol for you."

"What? Why?" I frown.

He shoots me a glare. "I think you know why."

I drop my hand, understanding. He takes a brownie from the plate and holds it out to me but I shake my head, as always.

"Then no alcohol." he shrugs.

"Guys, shut up ." Hyunjin turns up the volume. "The movie's starting."

I sigh once again and bury myself under the blanket, forcing my eyes on the tv. This is gonna be a long movie.

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Minho's hand has been resting on the back of the couch for 25 minutes straight, and the right side of his body is so close to me, that his thigh is brushing mine every now and then, so it's hard to focus on anything else. He, on the other hand, is perfectly still, completely invested in the movie. I can't help but let my eyes flicker to him every few minutes and the more I do the more I realize that he has the most perfect side profile. Everything from his now completely dry hair to his long black eyelashes that stand tall over his huge eyes to his perfectly straight nose to the curve of his full lips. His face holds no expression. He occasionally lets his lips turn into a small smile when a funny scene comes up or his eyebrows frown when something intrigues him. He doesn't smile that often, he doesn't show much emotion in general and I wonder if it's because we're not that close yet for him to open up or if that's the way he is as a person. From what Chan has told me, Minho is really closed off and it takes time for him to open up to someone. The memories of our talks make their way through my mind yet again, almost causing me to smile. I loved the way he talked; as if I wasn't even there, as if he was talking to himself, letting out all of his thoughts. I loved those moments. It was the first time that I felt understood, in a way. I've been hiding a lot of things, too ashamed to admit the real story of my childhood, the toxic and abusive relationship I stayed in for almost a year, or the sides of myself that even I am disgusted by. The mess that I grew up to be, even though I swore to myself that I would be different. I'm so grateful that I found Chan. It was a time when I really needed someone to be there for me, and he didn't hesitate a second. He was there every time. Through me screaming and yelling, crying, falling classes, not leaving my room or eating anything for days. He had the patience that none had with me growing up. He stayed by my side, waiting, allowing me to take my time but never leaving. I have opened up to him about a lot but still, even from him, I keep things. There are times when I feel like shit. I sit with all these people that are almost like family to me and present myself as someone I'm not, allowing only the side of myself that's not messed up, damaged, or fucked to be seen. So when Minho opened up to me about his childhood, I felt like I wasn't alone in a way. Maybe it was the alcohol but he didn't hide that side of him from me and that made me not wanna hide mine either.

I hadn't realized how long I'd been staring at him, drowning in my thoughts until his eyes turned to mine, and I almost choked. He looked back at the screen with a small smile and moved a bit closer to me. Thank fucking god that the lights are almost off cause I'm pretty sure I look like a tomato. I feel the hand that he has resting behind me, inching closer until his fingers brush my shoulder. A wave of chills runs through my whole body, but I try not to show any emotion on my face. He laughs under his breath and removes his hand from behind me, but just as I'm about to finally let out a breath of relief, I feel his hand moving to my thigh under the blanket and when his hand grips my thigh, I clear my throat.

What is he doing?

"What?" Chan turns to me.

"Nothing." I quickly brushed him off. "Can you pass me some water?" He grabs a bottle of water from the table and gives it to me.

"Thanks" I bring it to my mouth. I can feel Minho's eyes on me, as I'm gulping down the water. I finish almost the whole bottle and give it back to Chan. His fingers start moving upwards and he leans back. His touch is so foreign yet so relieving in a way. Like I've been starving for ages and he just offered me food. He has never touched me in such a way and my skin starts to feel hot under his hand.

"Thirsty?" He whispers in my ear.

Jesus.

I fight a smile by pushing my lips together, but when his fingers inch closer to my core, I shallow so hard that it's almost audible. My legs move closer together, almost closing his hand between them but he moves it closer and closer to where I suddenly need him to. I bite my lip finally squeezing my thighs together, trying to bring his fingers even closer. He lets out a bearly audible laugh and tightens his grip. I let out a breath in frustration, suddenly grateful for how loud the movie is.

"Patience angel." I don't look at him but I bet his lips are in a smug ass grin.

God, I haven't been touched in that way for so long that I've forgotten how it feels, the burning in my lower belly or the aching between my legs.

"I told you not to call me that." The nickname sparks something inside me I place my hand on his thigh as well, turning to look at him. His smile slowly drops and my hand moves higher. Now it's my time to smile. Deep breaths are coming in and out of his nose. His hand rests on my thigh, not moving.

"Stop." He growls under his breath.

"No, you stop." I whisper to his ear, cupping his crotch. "I'm not a doll you can play with whenever you like." He draws his tongue over his bottom lip and then takes it between his teeth.

I wanna do that.

I tighten my hand around his dick, feeling him twitch in my palm. He turns to look at me, his eyes shifting under the dime lights, it's like they sparked, and with each second passing, they challenged me more and more. His gaze dropped to my lips and my heart started pouting in my chest, as he leaned forward. I immediately pulled my hand away and turned to my previous position, facing the tv.

"That's what I thought." He smirked and returned to his previous position as well, with his hand behind my head.

I stayed quiet for the rest of the movie, too stunned about what happened. Every time I'm near him, it's like my body has a mind of its own. He makes me act like a completely different person. I get overwhelmed and every time I need more and more. As the movie was playing, I slowly came to the realization of how much I am actually attracted to him. I haven't allowed myself to recognize my feelings for him, too caught up in everything that has been happening but it's easy for me to also realize how stupid it is of me to have any actual feelings for someone like him. Minho only likes to tease and annoy me, simply entertaining his own needs, so I force myself to stop thinking that it's anything more than that.

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"That was a fucking good movie." Felix stretches his hands. I blink several times, realizing that the movie has finished.

"Hyunjin fell asleep," Chan whispers with a grin across his face and everyone's head snaps to Hyunjin.

"Aww" I lift myself off of the couch and grab my phone to snap a picture of his sleeping face.

"I'll take him upstairs." Chan gets up and I begin to clean the coffee table.

"I'll help," Felix says. We gather everything and take the plates and glasses back to the kitchen.

"Are you staying here?" Felix asks while loading the dishwasher.

I shake my head "I think I'll head home in a few."

"I'll drive you." Minho walks into the kitchen, engaging in our conversation out of nowhere. This dude is everywhere, I swear.

"I can walk thanks." I offer him a tight smile.

"Y/n." Felix says in a scolding tone. "It's past midnight. It's better if Minho drives you."

"I'll be fine." I stand my ground.

Minho makes eye contact with me from the other side of the island. "I'm driving you home." He states and leaves the kitchen.

Felix takes a look over his shoulder to make sure he's gone and then gives me a knowing smile.

"No, stop." I defend immediately.

He lifts his hands. "I didn't say anything."

"Shut up, I know what you're thinking." I narrow my eyes.

"You're going to fuck at some point." He shrugs. "Bet."

"Felix! " I squeal, looking around to see if anyone has heard him.

"Just sayin'."

"I'm going home, bye." I raise my voice on purpose and he laughs. I make my way back to the living room to put my shoes on.

"You wanna go now?" Minho asks from the couch.

"I said I'll walk."

"Stop being so fucking stubborn," He grabs his phone from the coffee table and walks to me. "It's late and I have a car."

"Who says that I wanna be in a car with you?"

He lifts his eyebrows, almost like he's challenging me. "You got into Jeongin's car."

There we go.

"Jeongin's fun to be around." I shoot and his face breaks into a grin.

He says bye to Chan and walks up to me until only I'm able to hear him. "I can be plenty of fun." His voice drops. "Grab your stuff, I'll be waiting outside." He puts his shoes on in a swift motion and walks out the door.

I smile to myself, 'cause despite what I said, I really wanna be in a car with him. I walk back to the couch. "Bye Chan." I wrap my arms around his shoulders from the back.

"Bye, princess." He kisses my arm.

When I step out of the house the cold air hits me immediately, forcing me to lift my hands and wrap them around my upper body for support. Minho's leaning against his car, a cigarette between his lips. I've never really found smoking attractive but there's something about the way he does it, that it does seem, kinda attractive, I guess.

"So Jeongin's fun huh?" He blows out some smoke.

"He is actually." I keep my face straight and when I reach him I take his cigarette and bring it to my lips, but before I have a chance to take a hit he snaps it back.

"Not a chance."

"Why not?" I pout.

"Dancers don't smoke."

"That's bullshit." I scoff. "Besides, you're a dancer."

His eyes light up. "Fine. If you want it, come and get it." He takes a long drag and leans forward, holding the smoke in his mouth. His action is unexpected, sparking excitement inside me. 

"No thank you." I bring my lips to a tight line, understanding what he meant. He laughs and blows out the smoke. "Can we go? I'm cold." I shiver, causing his eyes to trail down my body, probably noticing that I don't have a jacket on and I shift under his gaze feeling uncomfortable. I hate it when people look that intensely at my body.

"Sure." He throws the cigarette on the ground, stepping on it. He unlocks the car and I let out a sigh of relief, once I'm inside.

He starts the car.

"Seatbelt," He says, exactly like he did the last time I was in his car. I reach for the seatbelt and put it on. 

The corner of his mouth lifts. "Good girl." 

My body tenses up. "Stop with the pet names." I manage to say.

He smirks." You love them."

"I don't"

"I can see the way your body reacts every time I call you something, you know." His eyes flicker to me.

"I hate you." I shake my head, not having anything to say back. I don't really know how to speak to him when he's like this. I don't know how we went from fighting to flirting, but I can't help this weird feeling that I shouldn't let myself enjoy it too much. This is dangerous territory. The thin line between playful fighting and flirting, and I'm not really sure if I should cross it or not.

He rests his head back. "Sure you do."

The dime light from the street lights falls on him perfectly. One hand gripping the wheel and the other resting on the closed window. Even the way he's driving is attractive and I let myself study him a bit more. I try to focus on the small details I notice about him, like the way his hands handle the wheel or the way his eyes move around the streets, alarmed yet relaxed in a way. I notice that as he focuses on the road, his lips pout slightly and his eyebrows frown.

"You're staring again." He says with a completely straight face and my eyes snap back to the road.

 "So, how do you know Kai?

His question takes me by surprise. "Um, I've seen him around the frat." He simply nods. "Checking out the competition?" I tease.

His teeth make an appearance. "There's no competition angel."

"You're so full of yourself." I scoff

He shrugs with a smile. "I'm just confident. I grew up having to fight for everything I've ever wanted. That made me rely on myself and myself only and soon I realized that if I try hard enough I can get anything I want."

This conversation took a huge turn and I find myself staring again, remembering everything he told me that night. "I'm the exact opposite." I turn to the road. "I'm one of those people who no matter how hard they try will always fail and I've reached a point where I've failed so many times that it makes me believe that maybe, I'm just not enough."

He keeps his eyes on the road. "You're more than enough. All of us are. There are always gonna be people that are going to make you feel like that, parents, friends, lovers, even yourself. But in the end, there's no such thing as being enough for anything. You're simply you. And that's more than enough."

I stare at his side profile as I let his words sink in and my heart warms. "How do you do that?" I honestly ask.

"How do I do what?" He glances at me only for a second.

"You're so confusing. How can you act like a complete dick one second and the next talk to me like that?"

At that, he laughs. "That's how I'll get you to be obsessed with me."

It's kinda working.

"No. That's how you'll get me to murder you."

He laughs again. He looks so different when he laughs. There's something addictive to the sight and for some reason, I wanna make him laugh again.

"I have a question. " I say.

His face twitches with interest. "If you ask one, I'll ask on."

"Deal." I fight a smile and clear my throat. I don't know when I'll ever get a chance like this again, so I think deeply. "Why did you quit dancing and turned to music?" There are so many things I wanna ask him. Like what he thinks about me, if he's ever been in love or his dreams about the future. I wanna get to know everything about him but I don't wanna push him. It seems like he's thinking about it cause he's biting the inside of his cheek, something I've seen him do before.

"I just couldn't." He finally said after 23 seconds of silence, which I counted out of anxiety that maybe I pushed him too far with my question. He takes a deep breath, preparing himself. "I was in a shitty place and I was a fucked up mess. I couldn't dance anymore cause I had nothing to express. Growing up I found myself going to the dance studio as an escape. All the anger and fear and absolute sadness I would hold inside, I would release through dancing. But at some point in my life, it became too much and I grew completely...numb, in a way. I couldn't dance anymore cause I wasn't able to feel anything. I was bearly alive."

I watch him carefully, the urge to simply touch him out of sympathy growing by the second. I wonder how much pain he holds inside. I'm dying to get to know him.

"Jisung was the one that introduced me to music." He continues. " He came into my life when I thought that I was done. If I didn't have him I probably wouldn't be alive right now. He was studying in Rome, forced by his parents into a career that he didn't want. He was suffering from depression and anxiety and couldn't do it anymore, so he left and came here."

I would have never imagined that such a bright person would have such a hard backstory, but then again the kindest people are the ones that have suffered the most. "How did you guys meet?"

He smiles just a little. "At a party, a frat party actually. It was my first year in college, as a dance major along with my sister. I was drunk, and got in a fight with some dude after I tried to fuck his girl."

I scranch my nose in diguast. "You're an ass."

"I didn't know." He rolls his eyes. "Plus she was the one that was rubbing her ass on my dick the whole night."

His vulgar words disturb me. "Continue." I clear my throat.

"Anyway, I passed out on the bathroom floor, completely wasted, and somehow the next day I woke up on a couch at an apartment I didn't know. Jisung took me to his and Seungmin's place. I will not go into detail but after that, he somehow became my best friend."

"Wait, they were living together?" I ask.

He nods. "Yeah, they were friends for years and when Jisung dropped out Seungmin offered him to come and live with him."

I feel like I'm missing something. "How old are you?" I turn to him.

He looks at me with a smirk. "I'm 25."

What?

My eyes widen. "How the fuck are you 25?"

He laughs at my shocked expression. "I told you, I was a dance major for 2 years until I switched. Jisung started studying music and it pulled me in immediately. Then in my second year, Chan started collecting us like Pokemon and now here we are."

I shake my head. "Wow." There's so much I still don't know about these boys. Each and every one of them has his own story yet somehow Chan managed to bring 5 different people together through music.

"My turn." He says.

"Your turn has to wait." I smile as he reaches my apartment complex. He stops the car and I remove my seatbelt. I try to open the door but it's locked.

"Unlock the car." I turn to meet his gaze. He's leaning against his car door, keeping one hand on the wheel.

"I'll ask my question first." His voice echoes through the car.

I bit my lip, fully understanding the situation that I'm in right now. Trapped in his car, with his eyes and full attention on me. "Fine, ask away."

He focuses on my face, searching and studying. "Are you still in love with him?"

I stiffen, knowing exactly who he's talking about. Even though he's the only one who knows about me and Jackson, the times that we've actually talked about it are few. In any other case, I would have avoided any question about him but it's something this specific question that made me straighten my back. "No," I say with full honesty. "And I don't think I was ever truly in love with him if I'm being honest."

"You weren't," He says, his voice strong and stable. "What you had, what he gave you, wasn't love." He spits the last words as if it's a joke.

"Maybe it's the love I deserved." My voice drops lower, almost to a whisper.

His head snapped in my direction and I immediately lower my head, suddenly not brave enough to look him in the eye.

"Look at me." He demands.

I shake my head. I can't, I feel too exposed right now. More than I've ever had in front of anyone other than Jackson or Chan.

His hand finds my jaw and grips it tightly, turning my head to him. His eyes are burning but the muscles on his face are relaxed. He leans closer, and my heart starts beating faster.

"I really hope I could prove you wrong." His thumb brushes my cheek.

Freeze, freeze, freeze. I wish I could freeze this moment. Make it last.

I hold my breath. " Why can't you?"

His eyes shift as he tilts his head to the side. His hand moves to the side of my face, brushing some of the stray hairs away, pushing them behind my ear. I feel myself leaning into his touch.

"Cause you deserve better than I can offer you."

The words feel heavy, in my heart, in my chest, and in my stomach so I drop my eyes, nodding several times. Somehow I knew that that was gonna be the case. From the moment I first saw him, I somehow knew that he carried a lot with him and as much as my feelings are pushing me towards him, I'm not in a place where I can get involved with someone that can't offer me all of him.

"I get it." I pull away from his touch.

"Y/n.." He sighs.

I grab my bag and open the door. He tries to grab my wrist. "No," I shake my head. "Stop confusing me." I sharply say. "I won't do this back and forth again. You either want something or you don't. So since you don't, please leave me alone." I get out of his car, my legs move as fast as they can up the stairs to my apartment and the moment I slam the door shut, the tears make their way down my cheeks silently.

[cacoetheswriting]

heyy

can you do a angst with fluffy ending with eddie x reader on reader birthday (but not that he forgot pls 🙏🏻) you can decide the rest

thank you so much!! 💖💖

gosh i am sooooo sorry for only getting this out to you now! it's been sitting in my drafts, half-finished for far too long! again, super sorry for the delay - and i hope you enjoy 🤍

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pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader word count: 2.3k content warnings: talk of breakups / heartbreak (eddie & reader are exes), adult language, use of pet names, mentions of alcohol consumption, - very much unedited - pls let me know if i missed anything!

Birthdays weren’t really your thing.

Celebrating getting older stopped being fun when the gifts turned from colourful toys to cards with generic wishes, and when parties went from having bright bouncy castles to drinking cheap wine alone in a messy apartment at the end of an even messier night. From pure, unfiltered joy, to misery and feeling like your life was slipping through your fingers, fast.

There were a few expectations over the last few years — four lucky birthdays to be exact. And these happy memories came into existence thanks to a certain curly-haired, brown-eyed boy.

Eddie first asked you out a few days before your nineteenth birthday and even though the two of you never really talked prior, there was no denying he was really fucking pretty and you had a big fat silent crush on him for quite some time before that faithful afternoon.

He invited you out for burgers, and in the midst of natural conversation, when you let slip that it was your birthday, Eddie also got you ice-cream, asking the waiter to place a single candle in the colourful sundae.

Till this day, it was the most genuine thing anyone has ever done for you. The most romantic too.

And every birthday that followed, every birthday you spent together with the metalhead was beyond special. He made them special.

From balloons and love notes, to heartfelt gifts, various activities during the day and dinners at his trailer or out in town. He even rallied your friends and threw you parties that no longer ended with loneliness. No year was the same. Eddie made them unique and memorable — which you adored him for wholeheartedly.

Unfortunately, the genuine love you shared was not enough and the relationship came to an unforeseen end.

Eddie had big plans of one day becoming a rockstar, practicing guitar in his free time till his fingers bled, and you were studying day and night, working towards your dream degree. Your lives were heading in completely different directions and there came a point where you only saw each other once every fortnight, while your already irregular phone calls were often cut short.

That was three months ago. A breakup as natural as breathing, yet equally as earth shattering.

Even though it was a mutual decision, the pain was ever present and you cried yourself to sleep for weeks after. Eddie took a piece of you when he left and your whole body was in mourning. It didn’t help that everything in what remained of your life reminded you of him. Physical items like the printed t-shirts in your drawer or the mug he branded as his and you never let anyone else use. A Dio song you’d hear randomly or the diner he took you to on your first date. Then there was the emotional side, the soft glimmer in his eyes you remembered when you closed yours and the sound of his laughter you wished you’d hear again.

Things eventually got easier ‘cause it’s not like you saw Eddie often when you were together. Plus studying for an ungodly amount of hours kept you busy, distracted. And after giving yourself an appropriate time to feel everything, there was honestly no more time for heartbreak.

That is until your birthday rolled around.

When you opened your eyes late morning, you wanted the ground to open up and swallow you whole — which in Hawkins was more than likely to happen. The last four birthdays were nothing short of perfect and now…  

The nausea followed shortly after.

Your plan was to stay in bed all day, and it was going quite well since at six o’clock that evening you were glued to the same spot, until Robin barged into your room, Steve close on her heels, with a glass of water and a poorly decorated cake. Their singing gave you a headache, but you were still grateful for their attempt to make this day end on a better note.

“Now, go get your ass dressed,” Robin orders, glancing at Steve for his rehearsed words of encouragement.

He’s wide-eyed at first, nose buried in icing, but quickly nods at Robin’s words and looks in your direction.

“Y-yes, yes! We have an evening of fun planned!” Steve exclaims after swallowing a mouth full of vanilla cake.

Your roommates, however sweet they were trying to be, failed to realise the one place you really didn’t want to spend your birthday was The Hideout, and that’s exactly where they brought you.

The Hideout, presenting its usual lurking charm from the moment you stepped inside, was the one place in Hawkins you knew guaranteed an awkward bump-in with Eddie. Or maybe a needed interaction? Seeing him in his element could possibly bring some sort of closure after three months of no contact… No. No. Seeing him would only bring back the pain you tried real hard to bury.

A stench of old man sweat mixed with spilled booze hits your senses while you hurry closely behind Robin and Steve. In the dim light, your eyes are focused on the floor below, partially because you’re trying not to slip or trip over your own two feet, but mainly ‘cause you’re fearful of catching a glimpse of a certain head of wild brown locks. You only look up when the three of you approach a table closer to the back, away from most of the noise, and are greeted with hugs from Nancy, Jonathan, and Argyle. 

Settling yourself on one of the chairs, you exchange pleasantries with the rest of your friends while Steve orders a round of shots for the group. They all raise a toast to your health, their cheers attracting some attention in the process, but you don’t think anything of it, starting to instead feel glad you agreed to this.

“Birthday girl isn’t allowed to pay for her own drinks, got it?” Robin addresses the group and they all nod in unison. You wanna protest, but she swats at you from across the table before the words escape your lips. Her eyes saying that you need this, your eyes saying that you’re grateful she’s your friend. I know, Robin mouths as Jonathan takes everyone’s drink order.

Every shot you take, you chase with a rum and coke. The liquid burns down your throat. Third, fourth, fifth round down. You’re feeling buzzed, happy. Most importantly, no longer thinking of the boy that would normally also be hanging out with this group — blissfully unaware that he was actually watching your every move from the other side of the bar.

Eddie hadn’t initially planned on going out tonight. After a long day of working at the garage, then band practice right after, he really just wanted to smoke and fall asleep. As he got out of the shower however, instead of jumping into bed, he reached for a clean t-shirt. He couldn’t really explain why. It was stupid to think something inside of him was urging him to come to The Hideout tonight. He was wrecked beyond belief, yet his feet carried him here.

Then he heard it. Your name, followed by a mini-eruption of woohoos.

Head snapping in the direction of the sound, Eddie’s gaze found the source of the noise and then scanned the small group until he reached your relaxed frame. Christ, he thought, palms getting clammy. To say you looked gorgeous would be a vast understatement. And to say he didn’t realise just how much he missed you until this very moment would be nothing short of the truth.

Sure, after the breakup, Eddie found it hard to get through the day-to-day. Constantly distracted, thinking about you and second guessing the decision you both made. But then he reminded himself this was for the best, convinced himself that people can have more than one great love in their life, and things got easier.

There were days he hoped he’d accidentally run into you. At the store, out for coffee, or just wandering the streets of Hawkins. No such luck. When he started working at the shop to save some extra cash, he thought maybe you’d come in with your clunk of shit car since he was always telling you to get it looked at, but again, it never happened. 

Three months passed like nothing.

Eddie would’ve never thought that today, your fucking birthday of all days, would be when he saw you next.

Cold beer in hand, he thought about walking up to the table you sat at with your mutual friends. And he was about to, but then you laughed at something Argyle said and the honey-like sound froze him in place. Clearly, you were having a good time. Eddie didn’t want to ruin that, so he opted for watching you like some fucking creep. 

Four beers later, he’s still in the same spot.

Nancy takes over the jukebox duties. Billy Idol’s White Wedding starts to play as she pulls you to your feet, an excited squeal escaping her lips when you don’t protest. Swaying your hips to the music, you feel elated. Even more so when Robin joins in, singing along as Nancy twirls around the two of you. The boys clap, grinning like idiots, and you know you’re going to remember this moment forever, or at least until you unintentionally go over your drink limit and black out.

A smile tugs at the corners of Eddie’s lips as he continues to shamelessly stare at you. Carefree, is the word he’d use now to describe you and in all honesty, he hasn’t seen you like this in a while. Then his smile falters before it really fully appears ‘cause he finds himself wishing he was the reason for your current mood. Was ending things a mistake?

Mid-song, you spin and as you do, your eyes skim the bar, passing a set of curly hair. The air hitches in your throat as you double back. Just to make sure your drunken gaze wasn’t deceiving you, you tell yourself, but the reality is much different. Please be him, please be him, please be him…

When your eyes do lock with his, your tummy burns.

The copious amount of alcohol trifling through your veins right now gives you that extra push you need to start a short strut towards your ex-boyfriend. Someone’s arm is on you, attempting to pull you back slightly, but you don’t pay attention to it. Then you hear Steve say, “let her go, she needs this.”, and you’re free to continue your journey. 

In a trance, gaze glued to Eddie’s chocolate one, you push through the people until you’re leaning against the bar he was sitting at, observing as his features turn from awe into something you couldn’t quite decipher.

“Hey, pretty girl.” Eddie greets nonchalantly, as if no time has passed, as if nothing has changed between the two of you.

So you follow in his footsteps, carefully hoisting yourself up on the stool next to his, bare knee brushing against his denim-clad one. 

“Wanna order me a drink?”

Eddie smirks. “Straight to the point, as always.”

“Well, since it is my birthday, Robin said I’m not allowed to pay for my own poison,” you tell him, shrugging lightly, “So if you have a problem with that, you gotta take it up with her.”

He huffs out a laugh. 

“I’d rather not go against Buckley.” And with that he orders a shot of tequila each.

When the small glasses are in front of you, accompanied by a lime wedge, he takes your hand without asking, then licks between your thumb and index finger, doe-eyes never leaving yours. 

A shiver runs down your spine at the sudden contact and you try to play it cool, but in reality your heart is racing. Though Eddie doesn’t give you time to think about what he’s done with no warning, pouring salt in the spot he’s just salivated. He then hastily repeats the action on his own hand and pushes a shot glass in your direction. 

“Happy birthday, sweetheart.”

The toast is short and sweet. He raises the glass in front of his face as the words escape his lips, licks the salt off his own hand (which you’re a little disappointed in, unsurprisingly already missing the sensation that was his gentle touch), and downs the liquid in one go.

You quickly follow suit, not wanting to seem like he got you all flustered. But as the two of you sit and stare at one another while sucking on the lime wedges for a little longer than normal, you realise he’s just as rattled as you are — good.

“I hate tequila,” Eddie announces, discarding the wedge.

“I don’t mind it,” you say, wiping the corners of your mouth.

His gaze drops slightly, to where your finger presses against your puffy lips, and he bites down on his own rather shamelessly. There is a brief moment of silence in which Eddie thinks back to seconds before, when his tongue caressed your soft skin. He hates himself a little ‘cause he doesn’t wanna mess with your head, but fuck did that feel good. He’d like to do it again, if not more. Is that crazy?

And while you continue to look into his eyes, the butterflies in your stomach are going wild since you know exactly what he’s thinking. The only problem is you don’t know how to tell him because there’s so much else to be said first. Three months of catching up, to be precise, but did exes even do that?

“How about we get out of here?” Eddie offers, voice nothing short of a murmur.

You nod. Of course you nod. You’d go to the end of the world if he’d ask.

Before you know it, Eddie’s hand is on the small of your back, leading you through The Hideout crowd and out the front door. You don’t say goodbye to your friends, you can apologise tomorrow for leaving without a word. Instead, you inhale the fresh air, a wobble in your step as you turn to once again look at your ex-boyfriend.

“Where do you wanna go?”

Eddie throws his arm around your shoulders, pulling you in as close as he possibly can. He tilts his head to meet your gaze and smiles. A genuine smile.

“There’s this diner not far from here,” he answers simply and your heart swells. Then once again, tenfold, as he places a kiss to your crown before whispering in your ear, “Back to where it all started, pretty girl.”.

as always, thank you for reading! pls don't hesitate to reblog & tell me what you think - ily!

eddie munson masterlist | main masterlist

[ultravioletbrit]

not an anon but would love to know what inspires u for ur microfics? i love hearing about the creative process of others !! <33 sending u a hug

This is such a good question and honestly so hard for me to answer because my process is all over the place so I’m going to ramble about it a little bit…

First thing I’ll say, is that I probably spend too much time on one microfic. I only do one a day, but I spend so much time thinking about it. Mainly because I look at the prompt word in the morning, then let it sort of bounce around my brain all day and I don’t sit down to write the fic until the end of the day. But I have a lot of fun doing that because I’m not lying when I say I have Regulus/Jegulus on my mind all the time, so it kind of works for me.     

The first thing I do with the prompt is try to think of all the different uses of the word and not just the first thing that comes to my mind.  

A personal challenge that I have set for myself is to try and make the whole fic about the word. (Hair was all about James’ hair. Dark was about being afraid of the dark, etc.) I would say this only happens maybe 60% of the time. But that’s always the first thing I try to think about.

After that I usually think of a few different sentences or phrases using the word and see which one I can build a fic around. One of the first things I like to figure out is what stage of their relationship they’re in; pining, flirting, getting together, established, married, etc. And I try to spread these out; I don’t like to do four back-to-back domestic fluff or too many teen angst, etc. in a row.

From there, I just let the word and/or the phrases bound around my brain until something sticks.

Sometimes I have a fic idea, and I make the word fit into it, or I have an idea rotting my brain and I wait until the perfect word comes along.

Sometimes I overthink it and I end up saying the word over and over in my head until it doesn’t even sound like a word. Then I can’t think of absolutely any way I want to use it, and I get really frustrated and I end up putting it in a random sentence that usually doesn’t make sense and it’s obvious I forced the word in there just to use the word.

Something that has happened so so many times is as soon as I read the word, a song will instantly pop into my head and then I can’t think of anything else. Those days take me a really long time because I just keep singing the song. I was this 🤏 close to having James catch Reg singing ‘Respect’ in the kitchen because I couldn’t get the song out of my head.   

I think this is probably a lot more thought going into a microfics than is needed, and I’ve giving myself some personal challenges that make it even harder. But I have a lot of fun doing it this way. Plus, I still consider myself a new-ish writer and I know I write really slow, so having a process just make my brain work better. 🤷🏻‍♀️

Thank you so much for the ask! hugs and love 💜 💜

[writing-with-emy]

Young, Dumb & Broke - JJ Maybank x f!reader

JJ MAYBANK MASTERLIST | PROMPTLIST | REQUESTS ARE OPEN

Shipping: JJ Maybank x F!Reader Summary: Sometimes songs can Bring Back Memories. Word count: 5,2K Prompts: Fluff: #03 ; #10 ; #22 ; #27 ; #32 Angst: #02 ; #14 ; #34 Funny: #11 ; #18 Warnings: Mentions of Luke, Death, Drugs (mostly weed), some nicknames, metion of abuse, break-up A/N: I'm so sorry that you needed to wait so long for this, but here it is. It is deffinetly not proof read, I don't have the Motivation for that anymore so if your find something, please Tell me! But I#m absoloutly in love with this one! Plus Google Docs always tried to Make 'Pope' - 'the Pope'. Now I have an Image in my Head of JD's face badly added on the Pope.

The Thing about Breakup is, the start of it is always the shittiest part, then afterwards, there were good and Bad days. Today you had a bad day, where you didn’t get out of your Bed and just lie around. Days like this were always the same since your Breakup with JJ. You wake up, already feeling shitty, looking around in your room where the sun is shining through your closed curtains lighting it a bit up, and already deciding that you wouldn’t get out of bed. Your Mom knew already what was up, when she came in to wake you up for Breakfast. She just looks at you, sighs, goes back to the kitchen and brings you your breakfast. She knew on those days she couldn’t get you with anything out of bed. You and JJ were for several years best friends, before you started dating and it was good until the whole thing with the gold started. The day you Broke up with him, you not only lost him as your Boyfriend, but also as your best friend. So when you looked at your nightstand, there was a plate with fresh, and probably cold, pancakes and syrup, a glass of water and your phone. Instead of eating you decided to listen to music so you took your headphones, connected them with your phone, before putting on your playlist. Several songs played while you were just in your thoughts thinking about everything that had happened and staring at your ceiling, until ‘Young Dumb & Broke’ by Khalid started playing. And all the Memories of your relationship started to come back.

‘I can not give you everything, you know I wish I could.’

You and JJ both came from the Cut, that’s where you met and grew up together. With most of the people knowing and helping each other there, there wasn’t a lot of time between birth and the day you met JJ. Actually you guys mother knew each other, they were close, but not too close for your mom knowing where his Mother went, but since this was when JJ was really young, it took a while for you guys to meet. You actually met in 1st grade of Elementary school, you can remember that day like no other. When your Mom came to pick you up, you introduced her to him, but once she heard his last name, she knew exactly whose son he was. You guys waited for Luke to show up but he never did, so your mom took him with her and brought him home. He spent most of his day with your family, except one day, where Luke actually cared to show up. Your Mom and Luke talked outside, while JJ was next to you waiting in the Car. Your Mom knew how Luke treated his Mom, so he just casually shook it off and was okay with the Idea, that your Mom would pick him up when she would pick you up. He always was an Asshole, that would never change. You remember on your tenth Birthday, JJ came as soon as possible to you, on his Way picking some random Flowers from someone's front yard, he checked probably every five seconds, if he had the little present for you in his pocket and didn’t lose it. Once he was at your place he knocked at your Window, which you opened, it was early in the morning, the sun had just risen so he didn’t want to wake up your Mom. Tiredly you opened your window, letting JJ in, he was the only one of your friends to come at such an early time knocking at your Window, and as weird kids are sometimes, he weirdly gave you the Flowers before taking the little box from his pocket.

“I know it isn’t much, but I made this for you..”, he said quietly and a bit shy. You opened the Present to find a Necklace just like his in it. “Thank you, it’s perfect JJ.”, you beamed at him, pulling him in a Hug. You turned around letting JJ put the Necklace around your Neck.

Stuff like this is probably a tradition for you guys, every year on your Birthday, he would always come to you, with some flowers from someone's Front yard, and some self made gift.

On your last Birthday it was just Flowers and a Card, but it was still as sweet.

“You know, I just wished I could give you more.”, he said, looking at you with a kind of Sadness and guilt in his eyes. “JJ, I tell you this every year, It’s perfect no matter what it is, because it’s from you.” JJ knew that a discussion wouldn’t bring anything, because you are stubborn when it comes up.

‘I’m so High at the Moment’ ; ‘I’m so caught up in this.’

You were 15 when You smoked your first Joint, and the situation was pretty funny.

You went to JohnB’s house on the search for JJ, you walked by the twinkie, not knowing the person you searching was in there. You walked into the House seeing John B and Kie on the Couch and hearing someone in the Kitchen.

“Hey, do you guys know where JJ is?”, you asked John B and Kie. “Probably in the Twinkie smoking weed.”, Kie said, looking over at you. “He is in the Twinkie smoking a Joint.”, Pope stated coming out of the Kitchen. “What got you thinking that?”, John B asked, looking at Pope. “He took all the good Pudding with him.”, he just said. “Really?”, Kie let out an annoying sound hitting the Sofa. “Well, I’m gonna look for him there.”, you stated, turning around. “Tell him he needs to stop taking all the good pudding with him when He smokes.”, Pope called after you. “I will do that!”, you said, trying not to let out a chuckle throwing your arm in the air while walking down the Stairs. “How long do you guys think this whole ‘We-are-just-friends’-thing is going to last?”, Kie asked John B and Pope. “No clue, but if something soon isn’t happening, then I’m going crazy.”, Pope said. “Yep.”, John added.

You opened the door to the Twinkie and a Cloud of Smoke came in your face and your nose filled with the smell of weed. “Close the door, I’m trying to Hotbox here.”, you heard him say. “Okay, Mister Hotbox, chill out.”, you said, going into the Twinkie and closing the door behind you. “What’s up?”, he asked, looking at you while taking a hit. “I was looking for you, wanted to spend some time with my best friend.”, you said. “Oh, and I should tell you from Pope, that you need to stop taking the good Pudding when you smoke.”, you added. “Well, then be my guest and I will kick Popes ass, because this shit is good as hell when you're High, you should try it.”, he stated. “Well, there's one problem J.”, you said. “What?” “I never smoked before, forgot?” “Oh shit yeah, I mean we could change that.”, he looked between you and the Joint back and forth with a face that said ‘You can take it if you want.’, holding the Joint before you. You looked at JJ and the Joint and started thinking for a Moment if you really should. “Are you sleeping here Tonight?” “Yeah, why?” “Well, if this shit from your cousin isn’t doing me well, then you are the one taking care of me. Plus, I’m not going High back to my Mom’s nor am I staying here alone, High.”, you set your point looking at him.’ “So, that's a yes?” “No JJ, I’m asking you that shit just for fun. Of course it’s a yes.”m you said sarcastic. “Okay, no need for an attitude.”, he lifted his arm in a defensive mode before looking at you. Once you realized what you just said yes to, you feeled the nervousness beginning to rise in your stomach. “C-Can we like.. do something, before I take a like? Like.. Like shotgun or something..?”, you asked, playing with your nails. “Yeah, sure, would you like to shotgun?”, he asked. “Yeah..” He turned to, so he would be sitting right in front of you. “Come closer.”, he said, patting the place before him. So you slide closer, your knees touching when you sit in place before him. “Don’t worry, you're safe okay? If you don’t want to, can you back off okay?” You nodded. “You know-” “Yes, JJ I know how shotgun goes, I watch movies you know and Stuff you know?”, you said. He just nodded.

Now that is the part you are the most nervous probably about, the part where you asked yourself why you asked JJ to do Shotgun, when you just could’ve taken a Hit. You watched JJ taking a hit, before putting the joint back into the ashtray, he put his Hands on your cheeks to pull your Face closer to His. You have no Idea if you already are feeling something, because of the smoke that is already surrounding you, or the Fact that you and JJ Faces are just a few inches from each other, but your head starts to feel a bit dizzy and butterflies start to erupt in your stomach. You opened your mouth a bit to inhale the smoke JJ exhales, while closing your eyes just as JJ. His hands unconsciously moved from your Cheeks to your Jaw, to hold you more stable. You could feel and hear your heartbeat in your years, like it’s nearly popping out your Chest and if JJ would concentrate on his touch he would probably feel how your heart was racing. But once all the smoke was out of JJ’s lungs and mostly in your, you guys didn’t move, you stayed a couple of seconds this close, with your Hands on JJ’s forearms. But you needed to get the smoke out, and the door opened just in that Moment. You started coughing the smoke out, which made JJ laugh and the Person behind you looked at you suspiciously. “What’s up?”, you asked, turning around still a bit coughing, seeing Pope Standing there. “Taking a Pudding, because I want one, and all we have left of them are here. “Hey they are ours!”, he said. “Then Buy your own, one is mine.”, Pope said, taking one, before closing the door again leaving you two alone.

Fast forward and a couple Hits later you and JJ, are in the Twinkie High as a Kite, if not even Higher. “Shit, I’m so fucking High.”, you said grinning, looking at yourself on your Phone Screen on Snapchat seeing your red Eyes. “Well, we’re Hotboxing and it is your first time, what did you expect?”, he asked. “I don’t know.”, you said while laying down putting your Head in his Lap. You searched for a filter, before choosing a funny one and starting to film. In the Background was some random playlist JJ played from his phone, while he was eating a pudding. You started to film JJ, zooming in on his face when He opened his Mouth and you could see his full mouth with his pudding still in it. “Ew, JJ!”, you said while you stopped filming. “What?”, he asked with a full mouth. “That’s Disgusting. You’re Lucky you’re cute.”, you said laughing while saving the Video. “I’m what?”, he asked after swallowing the pudding he had in his mouth. “You’re cute.”, you said. “I’m cute?”, he asked. “Well, you’re not really unattractive plus you are not Disgusting. You sometimes do Disgusting things Like this, but you aren’t really disgusting.” “Well, thank you, and I must say you are pretty cute too.”, he said. “Well, thank you.”, you said, smiling at him.

‘We have so much in common’

When it comes to Hobbies and doing stuff, you and JJ are pretty much the same. When Nobody can find you at your or John B’s place, they Just need to go to the Beach to see you both in the Water surfing, trying to outdo the other. That all went that way, that you even took the same Jobs. If one of you really finds interest in something that is boring to the other, you still spend time together. That all really went from drinking, doing KEG-Parties, surfing to literal handworking stuff. ‘You always say I’m Wrong, but I’m pretty sure I’m right’

“Okay, but where have you read this?”, you asked JJ, watching him from the hammock walking from side to side. “Wikipedia.”, he said, stopping his movements. “JJ, I hate to break it to you, but Wikipedia isn’t a really good source.”, you said to him. “What, so you don’t believe that barking helps to get snakes to leave?”, he asked. “Well, If you meet an anaconda and she is ready to fight you, tell me how it went if you are not dead by then.”, you said, getting off the Hammock and making your way to the Chateau. “Really, I thought I had at least your Back on that thing.”, he said following you in the House. “JJ, I love you, but I’m not sure about that fact.”, you just added. “What are you talking about?”, Kie asked. “The whole, Snakes and barking thing.”, you said, letting yourself slump down next to Kie. “Really?”, Pope asked, coming in. “Come on- Okay watch the next time a snake is here somewhere, I’m going to show you that my plan is going to work.”, he just said stubbornly like a toddler.

‘What’s fun about commitment?’ ; ‘When we have our life to live.’

You tiredly make your way to your Window wondering half asleep who would knock at 1 a.m. at your window. “JJ?”, you asked, sleepy. “Hey.. can I come in?”, he asked. “Yeah..”, you said walking away from the Window turning on your little Lamp you have for reading. You heard him coming in, nearly falling in his face, before closing the Window stumbling over to your bed. “Are you sober?”, you looked at him scanning him from top to bottom and back up. You saw the fresh bruises on his face, you just didn’t know if they were from Luke or from his way to you probably falling sometimes. “I’m moderately functional.”, he said, falling next to you on the Bed. “I’ll take that as a no then.”, you looked at him. He just rolled his eyes. “Doesn’t matter.. I just want to be close to someone for a little bit.. Is that okay?”, he asked with closed eyes, not noticing how Soft your look became after that Question. “Yeah.”, you said softly, laying down, while JJ moved next to you. he turned off the light, before wrapping his arms around your waist and putting his head on your chest curling in on your side. You always cuddled like that, when JJ needed some comfort after his father hit him or just let his anger out on him in general. “Do you wanna tell me what happened?”, you whispered. “Just..my dad.. the usual you know?”, he said with closed eyes. You just nodded, one Hand in his Hair, while the other caressed his Back. “You know what's funny?”, he asked quietly. “What?”, you asked. “He always tells me.. How you are going to leave me, once you realize how fucked up I am. That I’m just like him, and that you never love someone like me. A-and sometimes I really believe that, I tell myself that even sometimes, but once I see you, and have you in my Arms after all those years..I know that he is wrong, just like me..sometimes. I really want to let you go sometimes, because you deserve someone, better than I am..better than I can be.. but I don’t want to, i don’t want to let you go. I don’t want another guy here in my place, I want you to have me by your side and not some other prick. This shit is probably so selfish but I don’t care, you are my girl, always were, always will be. I don’t care that I’m selfish..”, he started to blurt out. You have no Idea what to say to that, to the fact that he probably just told you that he loves you more than just a friend, but you didn’t need to because just as you were about to say something you heard him snore quietly, which meant he was dead asleep. So you just lied there until sleep won you over on its side again.

‘Jump then we think, leave it all in the game of love’

When JJ woke up, he directly remembered what he just rant to you about last night when he came. HIs first instinct was to get up and just leave, to not speak to you for the rest of the day, or the week, maybe the rest of the year. He just admitted to you that he has feelings for you. But instead of getting up and running for his dear life, he waited for you to wake up and to talk about it. Once you were up and eating breakfast, you couldn’t stand the tense atmosphere anymore so you started talking. “So..”, you started. “So..?”, he repeated. “Those things you said last night… Did you mean them?”, you asked directly out. “That was straight forward..”, he said a little chuckle, leaving him. “I know.. I just don’t want to talk a lot around the topic of why this is so tense right now..”, you said looking down on your plate. “Okay, uh shit.. Well, yes.. I meant every single word of it.. I knew it for pretty much the past years but I just pushed it back, but since the one day in the twinkie where we were so close..where our faces were so close.. Since then I couldn’t think about anything else.”, he confessed. “Well, then let me tell you, that I’m never going to leave you okay? And nobody can be better than you JJ, because you are the Best I’m gonna have. I love you too, okay? Don’t ever question that.”, you said, taking his Hand in yours. “So, who are we to each other..?”, he asked. “You tell me.”, you said looking at him. “Would you want to be my girl? officially.”, he asked, looking at you. “I would love to.”, you said smiling. JJ just smiled at you back, not really realizing that this means that you are together. “Well, Boyfriend, I was Kinda expecting a Kiss by now or do you just wanna keep staring?”, you stated, with a grin forming on your lips. “Oh shit, sorry.”, he said standing up pulling you up with him. He pulled you by your hand to him, before he put his hands on your waist and he finally connected your lips. Your lips moved in sync while you could feel the Butterflies erupt in your stomach, making your knees weak. Your Hands moved in his hair when he pulled you closer to him, when you needed to break the Kiss for air you both just grinned at each other like the lovesick birds you are. “You know, that you are never gonna get rid of me do you?”, he asked. “I know, because you're never gonna get rid of me too.”, you said.

Well but for the sake of the others, you love birds could never really stop acting on the fact that you are dating now. “Hey, did you get my note?”, JJ asked, once you and Kie arrived at the Beach for today's KEG-Party. “Yes, Of course I got it. You taped it to my forehead while I was sleeping.”, you said, eye rolling. “No need for the attitude Cupcake.”, he stated, coming to you. “Well, maybe I wouldn’t have one if you didn’t fully taped a Note to my forehead.”, you said. “Well, how can I make it up to you?”, he asked, pulling you to him after he wrapped his arms around your waist. “Well for the first part, you could give me my Kiss I didn’t get this morning.”, you said. “Well, that is easy.”, he said leaning down, connecting your lips in a passionate kiss. You put your hands on his cheeks, while you hear the others making gagging noises. He tried to show them his middle finger, but you grabbed his Hand and put it back in place and broke the Kiss. “And for the second part..”, you began. “Yes?” “You owe me a dance Mr. Maybank.”, you grinned, patting his cheek, before going to Kie to help her. “Seriously?”, he called after you, when He noticed you were wearing his shirt and lumberjack shirt. “Hey! Those are mine!”, he said. “Well, Not anymore!”, you called back, grinning.

‘Run into sin, do it all in the Name of fun.’

Well, all that was a year and a half ago, now everything looks different and you were laying in your bed crying, when the Memory of your breakup came back to Life.

You met JJ, after probably a couple of weeks. You knew about the gold and what they were planning to do. You couldn’t handle that JJ is putting his life for stuff like that in danger, you hated it to be fair so you distanced yourself from him and the others. But today was the day you met JJ to talk to him about it. “Hey..”, you said, looking at him as he came to you. “Hey..”, he said back. “So what do you wanna talk about?”, he asked, looking at you. “You know exactly what I wanna talk about.”, you stated. “And I told you Y/N, I’m not gonna let John B down with that, I don’t wanna talk about if that’s all you wanna talk about, then I’m gonna go.”, He said, turning around ready to go. “What about us huh?”, you asked. “What?”, he turned back to you. “What is with us? Do you not realize that I’m scared that Soon, I’m getting the Message from one of our Friends that something didn’t work out and something happened to you?”, you started. “Like, what?” “Like, these weird ass dudes, that came out of nowhere for you guys because of the Compass, or Ward fucking Cameron who is mad at John B because, he took Sarah from him. Or that shit with Rafe who is just as sick as his own Father!”, you become louder, and more frustrated from sentence to sentence. “Nothing is going to Happen!” “What if it is one day?! I can’t let this happen!” You feel the tears burning in the eyes from each passing second, with your voice starting to break with each sentence. “What does that mean!?”, he asked, now becoming frustrated himself. “You’re Changing!” “So is the rest of the Fucking World!” “So what? What is your plan if you find the Gold or something else just gonna sell it? Like it isn’t weird that five teenagers are there with gold that is worth millions of Dollars!” “We're gonna figure that out when It’s time!” “You don’t have a plan do you?”, you asked, calming your voice a bit down. “Well, what’s the real reason you wanted to talk to me?”, he asked. “I’m not going to watch you get into dangerous stuff like that and do nothing.”, you begin. “What do you mean?”, he asked. “What I mean is.. I’m breaking up with you. I’m not going to sit here and let you possibly ruin your whole life and put yourself into life threatening danger.”, you said, voice breaking in the middle of the sentence. “What..”, he began. “It’s over JJ.”, you said, before walking away. JJ just watched you walking away, no plan what to do, but once he felt the tears burning in his eyes he put his head back swallowing the tears down making it with a fast pace back to the Chateau. If you needed to leave him, then you should, he didn’t need you once he had the gold and was living the Kook life with his Friends who would never leave him over something.

Once you were Home you ran straight to your room, no hello to your mother or anything. You let yourself fall onto your bed, finally letting the tears fall, sobbing in your Pillow you pressed to your face. You screamed, you sobbed and you probably had a whole breakdown in your bed. You hoped your mother didn’t hear it, but once you calmed down a little your door was opened and closed and someone came to you. “Hey, sweetheart.”, your mother said quietly, putting to Cups of Tea on your bedside table. You just looked at her saying nothing. She sat down on your Bed patting on her lap, which you know what it means. You got a bit up so she could sit better on your Bed, before putting your head in her lap facing your door. “Tell me what's wrong.”, she started, going with her fingers through your hair. “I broke up with JJ..”, you admit with a sore throat. “The first heartbreak is always the worst..”, she told you. “I wish this was the only thing why..”, you said. “Why what happened?”, she asked. “You thought for a Moment if you should tell your mother about the Gold, but then you thought fuck it and you told her. “...and then he just let me walk away, like he didn’t care..”, you cried to your Mother. “Well, he was always a little Stubborn, but that was probably one of the things you love about him, because he didn’t give up so easily..”, she smiled a bit. “Yes, but why did he let me go so easily, why could he leave me so easily for some Random shit..?”, you asked. “People make their own decisions, Honey. And sometimes, they decide to go for a while. And sometimes, it takes time to understand why.”, she answered.

Well that is now a couple of Months ago, you still don’t understand why, why JJ let it all happen but you now can live more with the heartbreak then before but it still hurts. Well and now, all you know is that John B nearly went to Jail because of Ward and that was it. No Idea about how JJ is doing or the other, you just hope they were all good.

‘Yeah, we’re just Young, Dumb and Broke but we still got love to give’

It is a few days later, you knew about John B’s and Sarah’s possible death during the Storm and you really wished you could be there for JJ, but you were afraid of going to him. So you just sit silently at home, while your Mom is at work. Well until you got a Message.

JJ: Hey.. Uhm I know this weird but can we like.. talk or something?JJ: please?

You didn’t need to get asked why, you just asked where and when you read the ‘Chateau’ text you got up and made your way to the Home of the Pogues.

Once you arrived, you first looked outside for him, but when he wasn’t at the dock you went inside the house and the only place he could possibly be. You opened the door to his room and saw him sitting on the Bed, elbows on his knees, while his face was buried in his Hands. “JJ?”, you asked carefully. He lifted his head, looking at you with red eyes and damp cheeks and without a second thought he stood up coming to you and hugging you. You were a bit surprised at first but you wrapped your arms around his neck giving him comfort, while he just cried in your shirt. “It’s okay.. Let it out..”, you whispered in his ear. “I’m sorry… I’m so fucking sorry.”, he said, trying not to let his voice shake too much which isn’t working. “It’s okay JJ..”, you said, stroking his back. “No it’s not fucking okay. John B and Sarah are fucking Dead.. All because of that shitty Gold and I was so fucking stubborn because of it, I not only lost my Best Friend but also the best fucking thing I had in my Life!”, he said, backing away from you walking in his room up and down. “I was so fucking stubborn, that I didn’t listen to you, because I wanted to show you, that you were wrong about everything and now look. JB and Sarah are fucking gone, they are gone! GONE! And…and with all that, shit.. during all of that I fucking lost you..not only my Girlfriend but also as my fucking Best friend! I feel like a fucking looser, that couldn’t even keep my friends from death, nor could I keep my fucking girlfriend. I’m just like my fucking asshole of a father.”, he said, breaking down. As fast as you could you go to JJ, sitting next to him on the floor wrapping your arms around his shoulder pulling him against you just letting him cry for a bit.

You buried your face in his hair, trying to fight your own tears. But once he calmed down you took his face in your Hands and turned it so that he looked at you. “Listen to me okay..?”, you started looking at him, while he was just nodding. “First of all, they haven’t found their Bodys yet..right? So there is still a chance that they are alive and just stranded somewhere…Don’t give up that hope okay..? And second of all..yes you were stubborn, so fucking stubborn JJ. But fuck, that’s the JJ I know, always stubborn for the things he wants to achieve. That’s one of the things I love about you…like every fucking thing okay..? And you're nothing like your father.. don’t ever say that again, you are better than him in so so so many ways JJ. Never ever think of you like that again. I love you, I’m always going to, alright..?”, you said. He just nodded looking at you not really knowing what to say. “I know that it’s probably the wrong timing.. but c-can I kiss you..?”, he asked. “You don’t need to ask, just do it..”, you smiled. A second later JJ Lips finally found yours again, and it was like it never has been different. Like the last few months didn’t happen and you were just two People, mourning over their friends. When You separated you looked at each other, not daring to say something. “So uhm… Can- Can we like try it again please..?”, he asked: You chuckled lightly before pressing your Lips to his again, moving forward on his lap while wrapping your Arms around his neck, you separated your face a bit from his to look at him. “I would love to.. but you owe me a date.”, you whispered. “Anything you want..”, he whispered back. “Unless I screw this up Again, I’m going to Marry you.”, he said, while leaning his forehead against yours. “Well you better not mess this up.”, you said smiling.

[garbinge]

Charming Life (7/?)

Opie Winston x Teller!SisterOC Joanne ‘Jo’ Teller Jax Teller & OC Joanne Teller 30 Day Fic Challenge (18/30)

Chapter Index 

Word Count: 1.5k

Warnings: All my fics are 18+ regardless of content. Siblings fighting again, light angst, but other than that mostly fluffy.

Charming Life Taglist: @drabbles-mc​ @livingdeadblondequeen​ @justreblogginfics @chloe-skywalker @kmc1989

“Hey.” Opie’s voice caused Jo to turn around, almost knocking over her salon chair. 

“Hey.” She laughed and steadied herself. 

“You alright?” He frowned, taking a step closer to her. “Yea, sorry just a weird day.” 

“Micky?” Opie frowned and asked. 

“No, why? What do you know?” The girl got nervous, quick. 

“Nothin’, no. Just see you get like this when it’s gotta do with that piece of shit.” 

“For once my problems have nothing to do with him.” She laughed and ran her hands through her hair again. 

Opie frowned looking for an answer from her and she just shook her head. “Jax and I got into it, feel like we haven’t fought like that since we were teenagers and I was yelling at him to turn his music down or he was pushing me down the stairs to get the passenger seat the rare times Gemma took us to school. This was bad, Ope. He said some awful shit.” 

“I remember way worse fights than that.” Opie laughed and wrapped his arm around Jo as he recalled the fight he witnessed first hand. “Think he asked you what it’s like to be so perfect and it snowballed from there.” 

“I pushed him in Gemma’s azaleas, she still hasn’t forgiven me for that.” Her head was pressed against Opie’s chest. 

“He’ll come around.” He was now rubbing her back with his arm. “How you holding up about Luanne?” 

“I’m fine, more worried about my mom. She asked to watch Dil today, think she’s trying to break the cloud around her.” Jo spoke still soaking in every minute of this embrace with Opie. 

“You off work?” Opie asked, hoping it meant he could spend some time with Jo. 

“No, I have a 4:30 client. Who always shows up late and wants a full head of highlights, shit take’s forever.” She sighed. “What’re you doing tonight?” She peeled away from his chest to look up at him. “Want to hang then? I can pick the kids up and have ‘em sleep at my place. We could watch a movie.” She shrugged. 

Opie sighed and dipped his head. “I’ve got club shit tonight. Don’t worry about the kids, Bobby’s sister is watching them.” 

Jo looked up and raised her eyebrows. “You’d be better having Bobby himself watch them.” She teased. “I’ll pick them up, they can stay at my place. Dil loves having them around, I think she breaks them out of their shell.” 

“She does, Ellie was mumbling that song Dillon is always singing around the club the other day. I’m lucky to get her to say more than 5 words a day.” Opie laughed. 

“See. I’ll pick ‘em up after this client. I’ll see you in the morning.” Jo leaned up and placed a quick kiss to Opie’s lips. It was still an unsure thing, the two hadn’t really discussed anything, which was typical, but one thing that was certain without words was something shifted with them. 

“Everything’s going to be okay.” Opie caught Jo’s head before she pulled away too far. 

“I really hope that’s true.” She closed her eyes and before another word could come from her mouth, another kiss was being placed on her lips, this one more passionate than the one she left on Opie, this one he was holding her close like taking any time away from doing exactly this would paralyze him, but his touch was light and tender on her so as not to make her uncomfortable. The kiss was long, and Jo practically melted into him again. She felt the butterflies in her stomach full force, still almost a dream to her that this was her reality. 

_____

As Jo pulled into TM the next morning, she saw Gemma walking from the office to her car. 

“Hey!” She called to her mother before stepping out of the car. Gemma turned and frowned. 

“What’re you doing here so early?” 

“Wanted to check in on you, plus I’m meeting Opie, going to grab breakfast with everyone.” She pointed to her backseat which had all 3 kids. 

Gemma smirked and thought to ask more questions but held off. “I’m headed to give Wayne a ride. Just needed to drop off some paperwork I brought home last night.” 

“How you holding up?” Jo genuinely asked her mother. 

“I’m fine.” She answered quickly and clearly lying straight through her teeth. 

“Here if you need anything.” Joanne spoke just as the rumbles of motorcycles began to sound from down the street. 

“Looks like your breakfast date awaits you.” Gemma’s eyebrows raised and she smiled again before peering into the car to see the kids. 

Jax and Opie pulled up. Opie offered a quick wave as he moved to debrief with the rest of the guys, leaving Jax by himself. Jo would have easily ignored her younger brother if it wasn’t for Dillon undoing her belt and opening the car door to run towards him. 

“Uncle Jax!” She called out as she ran faster than Jo’s head could wrap around what she was doing. 

Without a second guess, Jax was kneeling to the ground to pick the girl up, all smiles on his face. “What’s up Dillybear.” She was now settled in his arms. “Going to breakfast, I’m going to get waffles, french toast, bacon, sausage, maybe hashbrowns,” she started listing off every breakfast food there was before catching her mother’s eyes and frowned. “and a cup of fruit yogurt because mom makes me.” 

“Yea mom can be annoying, can’t she.” Jax said knowing Jo was in full earshot to hear it. 

“So annoying, I hate the yogurt cup.” She crossed her arms and pouted. 

“Dillon, c’mon get back in the car, we’re gonna head out soon.” Jo’s voice was stern. 

“Do I have to eat the yogurt cup.” She tried to negotiate, a tactic she probably picked up from Gemma. 

“Yes, but if you eat the yogurt cup you’ll get chocolate chips in your pancakes.” 

“Deal.” The little girl was squirming out of Jax’s arms and running back to the car. 

“I don’t appreciate you negating me to my kid.” 

“It wasn’t a big deal, relax.” Jax laughed it off, annoyed himself. 

“Nothing’s a big deal to you because you don’t have to deal with it, it’s Jax’s world and we’re all just living in it.” 

“You really want to start this right now?” Jax looked like he was eager to fight with her. 

“I didn’t start shit, Jax. You started this by keeping that shit to yourself.” She pointed at him, it took everything in her not to step up and let her finger lay into him. 

“Can you just trust that I’m going to fix shit?” 

“You can’t seem to trust me, why should I trust you?” She pinned it back on him. 

“Call me when you grow up.” Jax was walking past the girl, shaking his head. 

“Jax!” Jo turned and it caught everyone’s attention but that didn’t bother her at all. “Call me when you actually want to be a brother!” 

It wasn’t a monumental diss, but it sure did get her point across. 

____

Breakfast was silent besides the kids murmuring and giggling to each other. It really was true, the three of them really brought out each other's personalities. While Kenny and Ellie became more vocal and out of their shell, they showed Dillon that she didn’t always have to be into the adult conversations. It was something that came with being an only child, she’d find herself in the mix of the adults, but now she had kids around her age more frequently to keep her occupied from that. 

“You wanna talk about it?” Opie casually brought up the tension as he picked at his plate. 

“No.” Jo was aggressively stabbing her pancakes. 

“Can I have your bacon?” Dillon was peering over at Opie’s plate. He let out a chuckle and looked to Jo for her permission to which she nodded. 

“Here, each of you get a piece.” He handed each kid one. 

“See you just have to ask, they normally say yes.” Dillon thought she was whispering perfectly but it just earned her another chuckle from Opie. 

“I’m so full.” He leaned back in his chair and looked at the kids. Dillon was so quick to copy him by leaning back as well and rubbing her belly.

“Ahhh, me too.” 

“You’re a funny kid, you know that, Dill.” Opie was smiling looking down at her. 

“Can we get pancakes every Sunday.” Kenny was leaning forward on the table, while his feet dangled. 

“If the schedule allows it, I don’t see why not.” Opie said with a shrug. 

“No, like all of us.” Ellie spoke up, still a shy voice, but learning to break out of it. 

This made Jo look up and she saw that the girl was looking between her and Dillon. 

“Yea, Ellie girl, I’d like that a lot.”

[that-gay-guy-from-hell]

DMC MASTER LIST

ON GOING QUESTION/POLL (I can't actually make a real poll but I want to know some opinions lmao)

All fics are posted here on my AO3, along with other things (like my personal headcanons).

VERGIL ONE-SHOTS:

Stubborn as Always--G/N, Fluff

Si vis amari ama--G/N, Fluff, Minor Angst

Uncontrolled Instincts--Male, Smut, Rut fic.

Sweet Serenade--G/N, Smut (? Vergil "self pleasuring")

Good Morning, my Love--G/N, Smut (Consensual somnophilia)

Tapestry of Leather--G/N, Fluff, Lime (god I'm old)

Student and Teacher--G/N, Flirty Fluff

The Bed of the Blue Devil--G/N, Smut, Rut fic.

As You Wish (Part 2)--G/N, Smut

As You Wish (Part 1)--G/N, Fluff

Despite Your Flaws--G/N, Sad Fluff

What Would They Think--G/N, Angst/Sad, Fluffy Comfort

Without You--G/N, Angst/Sad, Fluffy Comfort

A Devil's Secret Wingman--G/N, Fluff

Phantoms of the Past--Male, Angst, Fluff?

DANTE ONE-SHOTS:

Rough Day?--Male, Fluff

I've Got You--G/N, Fluff, Overprotective Dante

Where There's a Will, Right?-- Male, Angst (kinda), Fluff, Smut; Dante between 2-4

Stuck in a Rut--G/N, Smut, Rut fic.

Deep Regret--Male, Sad, Fluff

A Valentine's to Remember--Male, Fluff, Smut

Song of the Heart--G/N (w/anxiety), Fluff

NERO ONE-SHOTS:

No One Else Can Have You--Male, Smut, Power Bottom Nero, Top Reader, Pre-4 Nero

Wanting--G/N, Smut

Fear of the Devil--G/N, Comfort, Fluff

The Scent of You--Male, Smut

V ONE-SHOTS:

Lineaments of Gratified Desire--G/N, Smut, Handjob (V receiving)

Stuck in a small hiding spot + Injured V (short one-shot answers)

MULTIPLE/OTHER ONE-SHOTS:

Bound by Blood: Reader & Sparda Bloodline (Platonic; comfort, angst, fluff)

STUPID THOUGHTS THAT RELATE TO DMC:

Sin Devil Trigger Vergil's tail

Vergil only has 2 things to his name

Me at Vergil when I found out about Devil May Cry

Screenshot ruining my Bloody Palace run

Vergil right after V and Urizen merge appreciation post

"Bound by Blood" re-write excerpts (semi-gory warning)

"I think I'm pretty good at playing Vergil"

Ebony & Ivory replicas. Plus, Nero and Dante body pillowcases.

How much can the Sparda bloodline lift??

Thoughts while writing a "Nero x Terminally Ill reader" fic

Vergil and Lawn Darts

Vergil tiddies

This is why I love the DMC fandom--Comment thread

DMC 2 "Dante" is actually Vergil

Teeth!

Why do Dante and Vergil in DMC5 look so different?

Can the Sparda-bloodline dance?

Kneeling Vergil

Vergil being sick but also stubborn

Do it for him

A really good Nero x G/N Reader fic (that's not mine) and why my dumbass commented lmao

Eric and Vergil

Vergil's autistic

Sparda twins and leg gaiters

Aro/Ace Dante?

SHOP LAYOUT MAP

ART:

MLP Dante

Semi-spicy Dante (Mature label)

Drifting in the ocean all alone

GOOGLE DRIVE MASTERLIST OF PROMPTS/IDEAS THAT I'LL BE DOING.

Requests are currently closed; I have WAYYY TOO MANY. It might be a while before I reopen them; thank you so much for the support!!

A quick shameless self-plug--I also have a fan-character-based story as well if y'all would consider giving it a look, I'd really appreciate it. It is both here, @adevilsfolly , and on AO3