#-_- trying to figure out what exactly broke but this was WORKING at the end of september

[comfortlesshurt]

help, I broke my toy

suddenly i've only published 19 works and they're all danny phantom...

ohhhh my god okay it was something entirely stupid

i turned on a setting to display the progress of the code as it runs, and that progress monitoring box pops up right over where the "flat view" button is in the browser window. so it would try to click it and ACTUALLY click nothing, assume it was successful, and keep going. no idea why this started on 12-oct specifically, but it did so i lost one day of data and now it is fixed

(let this be a lesson to randomly check in on any code you write because i would've been so upset if i found this at the end of the month during my stats check-in after collecting 19 days of incomplete data)

[imreadydollparts]

More Mattel Head Glue Mess.

So this was posted on X:

And it caused a lot of collectors/enthusiasts to be kind of mean to OP for trusting a tutorial by a well-known doll rehabber (keep in mind, well known doesn't mean they know what they're doing...) and trying that person's glue head removal method of saturating the hair in WD-40 then washing it, causing the hair to all fall out.

They were also saying she should have used L.A.'s Totally Awesome, because we all know that works well and is generally safe. Generally.

At first I was sure that the problem wasn't the oil because oil does degrade plastics, yes, but not THAT fast. I figured the glue being removed made the hair fall out in that removing the glue removes the hairs' anchor inside the head.

I thought this doll had Saran and tried WD-40 on a Barbie because I can't assume I know exactly what happened without having tried this method, but Barbie's hair was fine. WD-40 is very fast at removing the head glue (but difficult to wash out again, just like Goo Gone in our hard water), but still not recommended due to the way oils degrade plastics.

Then @oak23 told me this doll does NOT have Saran hair, she has a special hair fiber meant to hold a shape without heat.

That changes things!

So I ordered one of the same doll on eBay to test on and she got here yesterday.

Her hair is already breaking around the scalp and the hair texture looked weird, there.

That got me thinking the head glue is what's destroying the hair fiber, not the removal method, in this case, oil. That supports my earlier theory that applying oil didn't instantly destroy the hair.

I gave her a quick wash because she was dirty, chopped off some of her hair right up by the scalp so there was gluey and not-gluey hair, and soaked samples in T.A. and WD-40 for two hours.

I can't record while I'm working but after that 2 hour period I pulled the samples out, held it in both hands, and yanked on them hard.

I also yanked on the hair still attached to the head, which did not break any more than it had when I had combed it.

The WD-40 hair, when yanked, did not break. When I pulled specifically at the ends that had glue, though, just that area disintegrated!

The Totally Awesome soaked hair had the same results when yanked.

However, the hair broke apart even more at the glue end than the sample treated with WD-40!

This tells me that the head glue is what caused the hair to destabilize either by changing it's composition in some way or by integrating with the hair, and regardless of the glue removal method, once the glue was dissolved, the affected hair fell apart.

Link back to the post full of links to the other post about this issue:

[ryukatters]

9:18 PM — s. geto ⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊

content: fluff, friends to lovers, sort of self-ship coded, reader dates (shitty) men

pairing: suguru geto x gn! reader

a/n: got suguru on da brain rn. my first work for him! hello geto nation how we doin?? also i had to fight my autocorrect bc it kept changing geto to ghetto 😔

“Surely, you must lack respect for yourself.”

“Excuse me?���

“You heard me," your best friend scoffs. 

It's not uncommon for you to end up at Suguru's doorstep, teary-eyed and sputtering after another failed attempt at romance. But he's hardly ever this mean. 

"What's so great about these guys? Tell me."

"They're...nice."

He sighs out your name in exasperation. He never uses that tone on you, ever. "You're literally miles out of their league. And they can't even afford to pay for both of your meals. How many times have you had to pick up the check for you and your date?”

You open your mouth to retort but wisely keep it shut. Suguru merely raises an eyebrow. 

"Exactly. How can someone be ugly and broke? Then still have the audacity to reject you? Pick a struggle."

"Well excuse me, mister 'I don't need dating apps because everyone just comes to me.' Not everyone is as fortunate as you are when it comes to romantic prospects." 

You're starting to question why you even came here in the first place. Indignation fills you as you slump down on Geto's couch, utterly defeated. 

He sits down next to you, placing a gentle hand on your knee with an even gentler look in his eyes. Your best friend's always been so kind, so thoughtful. That, paired with the fact that he's pretty easy on the eyes makes it easy to understand why he has suitors flocking from left and right. 

"Hey," he calls out, giving your knee a light squeeze. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you."

"'s fine."

"No, it's not. It was insensitive of me.”

You know what else isn't fine? Geto wants to ask. The fact that you don't know what kind of guy you deserve. He wills himself to keep quiet, for both of your sakes. 

"Maybe the universe is trying to tell you something. That you have some karmic lessons you need to learn and all that. You say that all the time."

"I don't know. Maybe...maybe love just isn't in the cards for me, Suguru. I mean, what else could all of this mean?" 

You sniffle, and Suguru can feel his heart break into a million little pieces. He wants nothing more than to scoop up the shards and present them to you, in hopes that you can somehow press them back together to make it whole again. The same way you always come running back to him, the same way you trust him to mend your own heart time after time with gentle praise and reassurance. 

"Maybe every heartbreak is just bringing you closer to 'the one,’" he offers, the hand that was previously on your knee now rubbing comforting circles on your back.

"Do you honestly believe in that shit, Suguru?" He doesn't blame you for being so cynical. He would be too, he thinks. 

"I do," he professes without missing a single beat. 

"How?" Not why, but how? How could he possibly understand? How would he know if fate's thrown his so-called one and only his way?

"Because I've felt it," he hums. 

“You… have?” You’re not sure why you feel so disappointed all of a sudden. Why should you care if your best friend’s in love with someone?

“Why do you feel the need to look so far for love?” He counters.

“I…”

“Why don’t you try looking at what’s right in front of you for a change?”

That’s about as far as Suguru’s willing to lay it out for you— he hopes you can read in between the lines. Call it insurance— a way for him to spare his own feelings in case you decide he’s unworthy of your affection and toss him to the side of the road.

“Suguru, I’m not sure I understand what you’re trying to say…”

Yes, you do. Suguru wants to say. Just think a little harder. 

There’s a pregnant pause.

When he realizes that you’re unwilling to take another step forward, he figures he needs to just take the leap. Fuck the insurance. He needs to do as he says and prove to you that the trail of heartbreak behind you is all going to be worth it. Because you have him. Suguru can only hope that his love will be more than enough to heal you from a lifetime's worth of pain. 

“Give me a chance,” he whispers, his hands enveloping yours as he brings them up to his lips, pressing a sweet kiss to your knuckles. “Please. I’ll show you how you deserve to be treated, how you deserve to be loved.”

You gasp, unsure how to receive such a confession— especially one from Suguru, nonetheless. The two of you stay frozen for what seems like an eternity. You— afraid, inexperienced with being on the receiving end of anything remotely romantic. Suguru— tense, confession lying heavy in the room. It weighs down his soul with each passing moment he’s not yours. 

“Please,” he pleads, feeling the way your hands tremble in his. Or was it the other way around?

Fear begins to gnaw at Suguru’s insides, thoughts of losing you plaguing his mind as he wills himself to stay calm. He wants nothing more than to shrink into himself— until he hears you speak, tone light and teasing.

“Promise you won’t make me pay for our dinner on our first date?”

Suguru allows himself to let out a genuine chuckle, leaning forward to kiss your forehead.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

[whytheylosttheirminds]

I Remember Everything - Rafe Cameron (Chapter 4)

Summary: You left the island two years ago, leaving the love of your life a shattered man in your wake. Now, when you return, you find the sweet boy you once loved has transformed into a monster of a man. How can you detangle the real Rafe from the terrible things he's done?

Timeline: begins toward the end of obx season 3 and is mostly canon.

Content: this story contains sexual content, alcohol and drug abuse, and brief mentions of violence. All chapters are 18+, minors do not interact!

⯎series masterlist⯎

Rafe had his head down on the rusting metal table. The sheriff’s deputies had all taken turns trying to interrogate him about the events of the day before, but none of them had succeeded in getting him to admit his father was on that plane. His hands were still bloody from the fight and he was exhausted, having been awake for nearly 48-hours.

The door creaked open again, but he didn’t bother lifting his head, anticipating another round of questions he wasn’t going to answer.

“Well,” Shoupe said with a sigh. “You’re free to go.”

Rafe raised his head with a smug smile. “What’s the matter, Shoupe? Couldn’t make anything stick?”

Shoupe rolled his eyes, “just stay on the island, alright? We’re not done with you yet.”

“Actually, sounds like you are,” Rafe stood and patted Shoupe’s shoulder condescendingly as he started walking towards the door.

“Funny, I didn’t think there was anyone left on this island who cared enough about you to wait in the station lobby all night, but apparently I was wrong,” Shoupe said as Rafe opened the door.

Keeping his back turned, Rafe stood in the doorway with his brow furrowed. He didn’t want to give Shoupe the satisfaction of knowing he also had no idea who could care enough about him to be there. 

As he passed the rest of the officers, standing there watching him in disgust and disbelief that he was getting away again, he gave them a smirk and a mocking salute, “a pleasure as always.”

You shifted in the uncomfortable lobby seat, continuously fidgeting both from discomfort and panic at the idea of seeing Rafe. When you had approached the front desk and told them you were here to post bail for Rafe Cameron, the woman behind the counter looked at you annoyed and informed you that you couldn’t, as Rafe hadn’t officially been charged yet.

“Charged with what?” You asked.

She rolled her eyes at your naivete and returned to the sudoku she had been working on.

“Okay, then,” you said as you took a seat in the empty waiting area. 

That was six hours ago, but you figured if he hadn’t been charged, they would have to release him eventually, and you’d be here waiting. You had no earthly idea what you would say to him when the time came, but you’d be here, and maybe that would be enough.

He strutted into the lobby like he owned the place, his cocky walk coming to an abrupt halt when he looked up and saw you sitting there. You rose to your feet, shocked at the sight of him even though it was all you had been thinking about since you ran out of the cemetery hours ago.

Rafe looked at you with an expression you hadn’t seen before. In his eyes, you could see his brain at work, like he was calculating. What choices he was weighing, you weren’t sure, but you certainly didn’t expect the move he made next.

“Hey, baby!” He called out, striding toward you quickly, pulling you into his arms. Just as you opened your mouth to respond, he kissed you. It was sloppy and crude, his tongue invading your mouth as hands grabbed your ass, lifting you into the air. Your face burned with shock and embarrassment, knowing all of the cops in the station could see you two. Then it clicked - that’s exactly why Rafe was doing it.

Before had a chance to decide if you were going to play along or slap him, he broke the kiss and threw his arm around your shoulders, walking you toward the front door.

“Later, Shoupe!” Rafe called over his shoulder, turning the two of you slightly, allowing you to get a quick look at Shoupe standing with his hands on his hips, red in the face. What the fuck did Rafe do to make Shoupe look at him like that?

You stayed silent as Rafe walked you through the door, leading you down the block and turning onto a side street. The second you were out of sight of the station, he pulled his arm away and took several long strides to create as much space between you as possible.

He looked at you for a long moment, once again calculating his next move. You froze in anticipation as he opened his mouth to say something, heart dropping when he changed his mind and closed it again. Silently, he turned and started walking away from you down the street.

“My car’s the other way,” you said, feeling stupid for saying such a mundane thing in such a heated moment.

“Have a nice walk then,” he called back sarcastically.

“Where are you going?” 

“Home,” he was almost too far for you to hear now. You started after him, needing to jog a bit to catch up with him.

“Let me give you a ride,” you panted once you had caught up to him, stepping in front of him to stop him from getting any further away.

“Think I’d rather walk,” he said dismissively. 

“It’s 10pm, and you’re gonna what? Walk through The Cut in the middle of the night? I know I’ve been gone for a while, but I don’t think they’ve changed their opinion on having Kooks in their territory,” you were pulling out any logic you could think of to get him into your car so you could finally talk to him.

Taking your point, he rolled his eyes and turned around, walking in the direction you had indicated your car was in.

You drove in silence for what felt like an hour, but couldn’t have been, as you knew the drive to Tannyhill was fifteen minutes tops. Rafe was looking out the window, hands anxiously rubbing up and down his thighs as he kept shifting uncomfortably in his seat, like he was fighting against some invisible restraint. You were trying hard to keep your eyes on the road, but couldn’t control the way they kept drifting over to him, eyeing the blood on his battered hands. The remnants of what was clearly not a good forty-eight hours all over him.

You had so many things you wanted to say, so many questions you wanted to ask him, that you almost couldn’t think straight. You were still reeling from the news that his father had died, and now the sight of him walking out of the sheriff’s station covered in blood. If so much could happen to him in just a few weeks, you didn’t even want to think about how much of his life you missed in the last two years.

After a while, the silence so tense it almost hurt, you decided to dip your toe in the water.

“Is it yours?” You asked, forcing your eyes to stay on the road.

“What?” He mumbled as he ran his hands over his buzzed head, still not looking at you.

“The blood,” you clarified.

“Some of it,” he answered honestly.

You nodded, as though this was all super normal. “And the rest of it?”

He threw his head back on the seat and let out a forceful sigh, pointedly not answering your question. You decided you’d tested the waters enough and remained silent the rest of the drive.

When you pulled up to the gate at Tannyhill, you rolled down the window so you could reach the box to put the code in, looking at Rafe expectedly. Your attempted nonchalance didn’t work, he rolled his eyes at you, pulling out his phone. As he typed the code into his app, he used his other hand to cover the numbers from your view. Long gone were the days he’d text you the code the second Ward changed it so you could sneak in and out to see him whenever you wanted. The days he’d hold you until you fell asleep, whispering to you about how someday he’d inherit this house and share it with you. As you watched the gates slowly open in the glow of your headlights, the future you once believed in so fiercely had never felt further away.

You drove slowly down the long drive toward the house, surprised to see it was completely dark.

“Where is everyone? Where’s Sarah?” You asked. 

“Just drop me here,” Rafe ignored your question.

You stopped the car a few yards from the front door, and Rafe immediately climbed out, closing the door loudly behind him and walking toward the house. You weren’t exactly expecting him to invite you in, but this non-goodbye was so abrupt you felt cheated. Your mind raced with all the things you still wanted to say as you watched Rafe walking toward the house, your chance to finally say them going with him.

You snapped out of your haze and threw open the car door, not bothering to close it behind you as you ran after him calling, “wait!”

He turned on you quickly, making you stop in your tracks a few feet from him. Suddenly, all the things you wanted to say disappeared from your mind and you swallowed hard.

“What do you want?” He prompted, looking annoyed at how long it was taking you to form a sentence. “Why the hell were you at the station?”

“I just…” you could feel him preparing to turn and keep walking back towards the house, you needed to say something, fast. “Your dad.”

Rafe clenched his jaw, he didn’t know what you had heard and wasn’t sure he wanted to find out.

“I’m…” you took one step towards him. “Rafe, I’m so sorry.”

“Sorry for what?” He left the question open ended, forcing you to reveal exactly how much you knew.

“I saw his plot, at the cemetery,” you didn’t need to tell Rafe what you were doing at the cemetery, he had been there with you on multiple occasions, including the day they buried your own father.

Rafe just shrugged, looking at the ground to avoid your empathetic gaze.

“Rafe,” you said quietly, the sound of his name on your tongue sending chills through you both. When he still didn’t look up at you, you stepped closer. He tried to dodge your eyeline, but you reached up gently and placed your fingers under his jaw, looking him straight in the eye as you asked, “what’s going on?”

For a long moment, the two of you just stood there, chest to chest as you searched each other’s faces in the glow of the moon. If he’d let you, you would stand there for hours, just studying him, trying to read it all on his face. You used to know the meaning of every expression he made, every glint in his eye, every twitch of his lips. The two of you used to be able to have full conversations without saying a word. Now, your eyes searched every inch of his face, and you were coming up with nothing. 

He snapped his head back suddenly, ripping it away from your hand like you were burning him. He shook his head, and he wasn’t sure who he was saying no to- you or himself. 

“Just go home, y/n,” he said, arm outstretched, gesturing towards your car dismissively. 

“I can’t,” you spoke into the darkness. 

Rafe caught himself before asking you why, trying to preserve the image that he didn’t care. He assumed it had something to do with your mom. He had spent countless hours of his life listening to your stories of fights with your mother, even being present and involved in several of them, often being the source of the conflict. He swallowed the temptation to ask you what happened, pushing away the desire to have you laying with your head in his lap, gently playing with your hair as he let you rant as long as it took for you to feel better. He pushed the memory away, an action that was muscle memory to him at this point. 

“Well you can’t stay here,” he told you.

“But I just want to-”

“Just leave! We both know you know how to, you’re a fucking professional at it!” His booming voice echoed through the evening air and shot straight through you.

Tears sprang to your eyes, the sound of his raised voice so jarring. He had never screamed at you like this. Even in moments of frustration, just the thought of making you cry was enough to break him. 

You closed your eyes, letting the tears slip through and slide down your cheeks. You turned from him, but he’d already seen them. Guilt and fury battled in his chest, wanting to hold you and push you away at the same time. He hated the sight of your tears, but being able to release the hurt and anger he’d been feeling for two years felt somewhat satisfying, too. He felt like he was two completely different people, not sure he wanted to be either of them.

You sniffled and wiped your tears with the backs of your hands, gathering yourself before turning back to him.

“I know that I hurt you,” you said. “But I have my side of the story, too.”

“The story?” he scoffed. “You said you’d love me forever and then you didn’t. You said you wouldn’t disappear into the night and that’s exactly what you did. You’re a liar. That’s the story.”

Every day for two years, you had broken your own heart. You had never stopped trying to fight the demons of that night. You had devoted your life to trying to figure out what the hell had happened that could’ve ended with you on a train, riding off into the night against your will. For two years, you’d spent your nights praying to any God that would listen to let you go back in time, to undo this twisted fate. 

But none of those agonizing nights hurt quite like this. He really thought you had wanted to leave? That you just up and stopped loving him? You knew he had no way of knowing what really happened, but you were still clinging to some small shred of hope that he’d give you the benefit of the doubt. Clearly he hadn’t. 

“Is that what you think?” You asked in a small voice.

“That’s what I know,” he corrected. 

No words came to you as all of the tiny cracks in your heart you had worked so hard to fill ripped open again. Rafe only took your silence as confirmation.

“Let it go, y/n,” he said, turning to walk towards the house. “I have.”

With that, he closed the door firmly behind him, the lock clicking loudly.

So that was it then. Seven years of friendship, five years of wild love, two years of heartbreak. Fourteen years of him gone, the rest of your life without him a sprawling void ahead of you. The kiss you shared in the sheriff’s station would be your last. Your last kiss and it wasn’t even real, the agony of that thought pushed you ever the edge and the tears you’ve been trying to stifle flowed free. Shoulders shaking with your sobs, you forced yourself to walk back to the car, no idea where you’d go once you were in it.

The door was still open, but the light had gone out. Once inside, you turned the key and the engine sputtered meekly as you tried and failed to turn it over. 

“Shit!” You screamed, slamming your hands against the steering wheel. Leaving the door open must’ve killed the battery. You cursed your mom for insisting on still driving this piece of shit even though she could easily afford an upgrade.

A professional leaver, Rafe had called you. The irony that just minutes after he said that you were literally unable to leave made you chuckle humorlessly. All of the emotion of this week weighing on your shoulders, you sat and cry-laughed into the darkness, feeling completely unhinged. What was supposed to be a quick, uneventful trip to your hometown had turned into a complete shitshow, you don’t know why you expected anything less.

You sat in the dark, giving up on trying to start the car. What were you supposed to do here? You could either knock on the door and chance another verbal bruising from Rafe, or walk home in the dead of night and face your mother. You fell asleep trying to decide which was worse.

Seven Years Earlier…

There were so many people packed into your house, you assumed nobody would notice when you slipped out and hopped on your bike. You were wrong. Rafe saw your bike lying on its side on the path leading down toward the beach, you hadn’t even bothered to put up the kickstand. 

He followed your footsteps down to the water. It was chilly and raining, the beach completely clear of people. The rain was falling hard, washing your footsteps from the sand, but he managed to follow what was left of them to the abandoned lifeguard tower you used to climb on as kids. There you were, sitting underneath the wooden structure for shelter, feet digging into the sand as you hugged your knees to your chest. Rafe stopped short, he hated seeing you upset, but he wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do to make you feel better. He had never been very good at feelings.

He decided he would approach you anyway, not saying anything in order to avoid saying the wrong thing. He ducked down and slid between the stilts of the tower, finding a space on the ground next to you.

You didn’t have to look over to know who it was, you could feel him. You were relieved when Rafe didn’t say anything, you were so overwhelmed by the chaos of the day, you couldn’t form words to explain it if you tried. After a few minutes, you couldn’t hold back the tears any longer and they began rolling down your face in big, fat drops. 

“Hey, hey,” Rafe said, startled by your sudden outburst. He put his arm around your shoulders and pulled you into him. You laid your head on his shoulder and he awkwardly rubbed his hand up and down your back. “It’s…it’s gonna be ok,” he said hesitantly, terrified he’d somehow make you feel worse.

The soft fabric of the black dress your mother had chosen for you to wear to your father’s wake felt nice under his fingertips. His hand grazing softly up and down your back felt nice as you let the tears fall. You let Rafe soothe you for a few minutes, before taking a deep breath and wiping your tears away with the back of your hands.

“Sorry,” you said with a self-deprecating laugh.

“You don’t have to say sorry,” he assured with a sincerity that almost made you start crying again. 

You looked over at him for the first time, his hair messy and wet from walking all the way here from your house in the rain. His cheeks were pink from the chilly air and the bashfulness he was feeling from sharing such an intimate moment with you. You had always thought he was cute, but in this moment, you realized you absolutely adored him.

“I just didn’t want to be there anymore,” you explained. “I don’t even know half of those people and everyone just kept hugging me.”

“I wouldn’t want to be there either,” he reassured you.

You nodded, sniffling, and giving him a thankful smile. Without really thinking it through he reached out a shaky hand and wiped the remaining tears off your cheeks. His hand lingered, and you placed yours on top of it, squeezing gently with appreciation. The contact made both of you blush and you looked away from each other. You had been friends since you were both six-years-old, of course you had touched before, but something about this time felt different.

“I know how you feel,” he said in a voice so quiet that you could barely hear it over the pattering of rain on the wooden structure above you and the crashing of waves. 

That’s right. In the storm of your own grief you had almost forgotten that Rafe had once lost a parent, too. It was about a year after you got to the island, he had missed two weeks of school in the third grade. When he came back, he started his still-running reign of principal’s office MVP.  

“I know it feels like maybe you won’t ever be happy again,” he looked out at the ocean, afraid you would notice the water starting to collect in the corners of his eyes. “But you will be. You’ll find something that makes you happy, and soon it won’t hurt so bad.”

“Did you?” You asked.

“Did I what?”

“Find something that made you happy again?”

“Yes.”

“What was it?”

Rafe looked down at his feet shyly, his hand scratching the back of his neck in discomfort. You teasingly elbowed him, making him laugh. He swallowed hard before mumbling, “you.”

Your stomach flipped and your face went beat red, completely caught off guard by his answer. Once again, your heart ached with the affection you felt for him. You reached out and lightly tucked your fingers under his chin, pulling his face up to meet your gaze.

“You make me happy, too,” you confessed. 

You had never done it before, and you weren’t really sure how to, but you knew that you just had to kiss him. Rafe had the same idea, and met you half-way with his own lips puckered. 

It was quick and innocent, the first of a million kisses you’d share. You didn’t know how it was possible to feel so sad and so happy at the same time, but you felt as though you could face anything now that you knew you wouldn’t have to face it alone.

Now…

TAP TAP TAP. Your eyes flew open as you lifted your head from the window and took in your surroundings, unsure of where you were. As your blurry surroundings came into focus, you were pulled down from your post-sleep haze by the looming figure of the man on the other side of the window. Rafe stood outside your car window, holding up a steaming mug of coffee. 

You rolled the window down, smiling shyly at Rafe as you blinked rapidly in the soft morning light. 

“Hi,” you said weakly.

“You sleep here?” He asked with neither amusement nor annoyance in his voice.

“The car wouldn’t start,” you explained. “I think the battery died.”

“You could’ve told me, I could’ve called Triple A,” he chided.

“I wasn’t sure you would’ve opened the door if I knocked,” you pointed out.

“That’s fair,” he agreed. The gentleness he was speaking to you with now was in such stark contrast to the tone he’d used last night. You didn’t want to say anything, scared to disturb the calm waters.

He handed the coffee to you, which you accepted gratefully. You took a sip, two creams and one sugar - he remembered. 

“Thank you,” you said softly.

“You can come inside while I call someone to come jump the car,” he offered.

You were so confused, but didn’t want to question it. You simply nodded as he opened the car door for you so you could climb out without spilling the coffee. 

After calling Triple A, Rafe joined you on the back porch, now with his own cup of coffee.

“Still take yours black?” You asked.

“The way coffee should be?” He teased. “Yes, yes I do.”

You smiled and you shook your head at him, clutching your coffee and looking out at the sun rising over the sea. The two of you sat in silence for a while on opposite sides of the wicker patio couch, sipping your coffees and avoiding each other’s eyes. 

You thought through the events of yesterday, remembering everything Rafe had said, and everything you wanted to say but hadn’t been able to. Rafe’s words were so cruel, but you got the sense he had fully believed everything he said. You thought you would never get the chance to respond to his accusations, but your car troubles had given you this extra time with him, and you didn’t want to waste the second chance. Should you make a joke? Try to tease him some more about his coffee preferences? Should you ask about his dad, or the reason he had been taken in to the sheriff’s office for questioning? Rafe clearly didn’t want to talk about his dad, and if this was your last chance to talk to him, you didn’t want to waste it on small talk. You decided your only option was to talk about yourself, about how you are feeling, and let him decide if he wanted to hear it or not.

“You’re wrong,” you said, sitting up to look at him. 

Your direct words startled him and he snapped his head to you, also sitting up straight.

“About what?” He says defensively. 

You look at him, hoping he can’t tell that your heartbeat is spiking and your throat is tight with anxiety. You need what you’re about to say to come out confidently, you need to say it with your chest or you may as well not say it at all.

“I never lied to you,” you told him. “And I never stopped loving you.”

Rafe’s face went pale, not at all expecting you to say that. He set his coffee down and got up from the couch, walking quickly back into the house and leaving you sitting alone, heart in hand. 

You followed him into the house, feet padding on the wooden floor behind him.

“Please just talk to me,” you pleaded.

He rounded on you, forcing you to step back.

“Don’t say shit like that!” He yelled.

“Don’t yell at me!” You matched his energy. “You never used to yell at me.”

“You left, y/n! What was I supposed to do, stay exactly the same and wait patiently for you to come back from God-knows-where like a good boy? No!” He jammed his finger into his chest, “I grew up! I became a fucking man! And now you wanna just waltz in like nothing fucking happened? It’s too late for that!”

You didn’t cower, but got closer to him with each proclamation he made. You found something in you that you hadn’t had last night, something like courage.

“You’re fucking right you changed! You know how I know? The old Rafe would’ve listened to me for two fucking seconds so I could explain!”

“I don’t wanna hear any fucking excuses-”

“I’m not making excuses! If you’d let me speak for two fucking seconds, you’d know that!” 

“There’s nothing you could say that would make me not pissed at you,” his voice was lowered but still filled with vitriol.

“You know what? Fine,” you shot back. “Be pissed at me. But I’ve had a long, unbelievably shitty two years and I’m not gonna stand here and let you scream at me as if you’ve never done anything wrong, ‘cause we both know that’s far from the truth.”

Rafe looked at you like you had smacked him, surprise flashing across his face. Of course, he knew you were referring to the accident and the things that happened before you left, right? His face smoothed over with recognition, maybe even relief.

“You’re talking about the accident,” he confirmed.

“Yes, I’m talking about the accident,” you crossed your arms over your chest. “What else would I be talking about?”

He shook his head, “nothing.”

“Unless there’s something you want to tell me?” Like maybe why you were held for questioning by the police for 24-hours, covered in someone else’s blood. 

Rafe studied you for any sign that you knew what had really been going on the past few months. You were looking at him so intensely, it was impossible to read your face. He couldn’t bear the thought that you knew what he’d done, what he’d become. And even though he was still pissed at you, still hurt, no matter your supposed explanation for leaving, he was desperate for you to remember him as the person he was before. He needed you to believe he was good. 

He drank you in for a long time, standing there with your arms crossed, looking up at him expectantly. Your hair was still messy from your night of tossing and turning in the car. You definitely looked older, but you were still so essentially you. He knew you wouldn’t let him stall much longer, that he would need to respond eventually. So he did.

Rafe stepped closer to you, his tall frame requiring you to tilt your head back to look up at him. He grabbed each of your forearms, pulling them apart, forcing you to uncross them and lose your defensive stance.

“There’s a lot of things I’ve wanted to tell you,” he whispered in a low voice, sending a shiver down your spine. “And things I’ve wanted to show you.”

You feel your new-found courage faltering, but try your best to maintain your confident facade as you respond, “like what?” The small amount of air between you is so tense, you’re being pulled to him like a magnet. You know, you know, you shouldn’t do this. There is so much you need to talk about, so many things left unresolved. But then he licks his lips, an action that used to mean I want you in your own secret language. And fuck if you don’t want him too.

(chapter five)

a/n: y'all. not me making myself cry with this one. your support has absolutely blown me away and made me so happy to be posting my writing again!!! Doing my best with this taglist but if you asked and I left you off please let me know!! ch 5 on it's way!

taglist: @maybankslover @dark1paradise @lmg-stilinski24 @idkdudsworld @mimipanini09 @patis643 @readingsmuts @nymphetkoo @xoxohoneymoongirl @hangmanscoming @azrielsgirll @laniirackssss @rubixgsworld @sweetienans @dasguccier @brain-palacee @ymnizuh @wearemadeofstardust0 @rafesgiirl @thewalkingdeadsmut @themindofmoe @my-fabulousness-has-arrived @aerie717 @kickenkricken @st0rmyt @sage-burrow @adoreleeknw @mudisgranapat @sugarmelonwater @blue-greener-weiner @vilentia @sunny1616 @namelesslosers @groovycass @zizuras @lifeonawhim

[paddockletters]

broke but not broken | mason mount

pairing: mason mount x reader

summary: you prank Mason by saying you can't afford dinner.

I was scrolling through TikTok when I stumbled upon this brilliant prank: a girl telling her boyfriend she couldn’t take him out to dinner because she didn’t have any money. I couldn’t resist. Mason was such a sweetheart, and watching his confusion unfold would be comedy gold.

As we hopped into the car, both of us dressed to impress for our dinner date, I decided it was time to unleash my plan.

I leaned over and started recording, wanting to capture every moment. I took a deep breath and turned to him, my expression serious.

"Babe, what's wrong?"

“Mase, we need to talk.”

He glanced at me, his brow furrowing with concern. “You alright?”

I maintained my serious face.

“I can’t take you out to dinner tonight. I don’t have any money.”

His eyes widened, clearly bewildered.

“What do you mean? I always pay!”

“Yeah, well, not this time. So… we can’t go out,” I said, trying my best to keep a straight face.

“Wait, when did you ever pay?” He sounded genuinely confused, which made it harder for me not to laugh.

“Just today, I guess? I’ve got a strict budget,” I replied, feigning seriousness.

Mason leaned back in his seat, looking like I’d just told him the world was ending.

“You can’t be serious! Use my card! That’s why I work, yeah?”

I smirked, loving the way he was trying to reason with me. “But what if I don’t want to?”

“Are you joking? You’re leaving me like this?” He gestured to himself, all dressed up. “I’m ready to go, and you’re telling me we’re just… not?”

“Oh, absolutely. Welcome to my world!” I said, trying to suppress my laughter.

He shook his head, a mixture of confusion and concern on his face.

“But I don’t get it! You’ve got money somewhere, don’t you? I’m not asking you to pay! I want to take you out!”

I could hardly contain myself, watching his expressions shift from disbelief to sheer desperation.

“Mason, you’re not listening. I simply can’t afford it today. Maybe we can just grab a takeaway?”

His eyes widened even more.

“Takeaway? Is that what you want? I’m not having a night in with just microwave noodles!”

“Why not? They’re delicious!” I shot back, enjoying the banter.

He leaned forward, looking like he was trying to solve a complex puzzle. “No, seriously! When did you suddenly decide not to pay? This is all so weird! What’s going on?”

“Look, I just don’t feel like going out,” I said, trying to stifle my laughter. “Can’t we just order something in?”

He ran a hand through his hair, clearly exasperated.

“But I’m all dressed up! You can’t just bail on me like this!”

“Maybe I just wanted to surprise you with a cozy night at home?” I teased.

“Surprise? You’re killing me here!” he replied, his voice a mix of amusement and genuine concern. “I was looking forward to dinner!”

“This is pure gold, Mason! The world needs to see your reaction.”

“Great, can’t wait for everyone to see how you’re torturing me,” he said, crossing his arms dramatically.

I giggled as I watched him try to process the whole situation.

"But really, what if I’m saving my money for a surprise?”

“A surprise that leaves me starving?” he quipped, rolling his eyes but still trying to hide his smile.

“Exactly! Now you’re getting it!” I shot back, barely able to contain my laughter.

He paused, tilting his head as if he were figuring out a riddle.

“Look, just take my card! I don’t care about the money. I’m more worried about being hungry in a minute!”

“You’re so sweet,” I said, laughing at how genuinely concerned he sounded. “But no dinner means more time to cuddle on the sofa, right?”

“Now you’re just teasing me!” he exclaimed, half-laughing, half-dying inside. “This isn’t fair. I’m not leaving without food!”

“Too bad! You’re stuck with me and some instant noodles,” I replied, loving every moment of his confusion.

Finally, I relented, unable to keep the prank going any longer.

“Alright, alright! It was a prank! I saw it on TikTok!”

His expression shifted from confusion to relief, and then to mock annoyance. “You little bugger! I thought I’d have to starve!”

“I couldn’t help it! Your reactions were too good!” I said, still laughing as I stopped the recording.

Days before posting the video i have to say... it was a hit. I was on the couch with Mason next to me, and I started reading the comments as they rolled in.

“Why is Mason so confused?”

“Love this couple!”

“Mason’s reactions are the best!”

“LOL, he’s so sweet for offering to pay!”

"Mason was so offended istg "

I turned to Mason, who was shaking his head with a grin. “You know, I might just get you back for this.”

“Oh, I’m ready for whatever you’ve got! Just know, I’ll always be one step ahead,” I replied, feeling the warmth of our playful banter.

He smirked. “Next time, I’m the one pulling a prank! Just you wait.”

“Bring it on, Mount!” I laughed, excitement bubbling up inside me. This was just the beginning of our fun adventures, and I couldn’t wait to see what he had in store next.

[jaicey]

CHERRY LIPGLOSS SUCKS

Part 1 | Part 2

Summary: You and Regina have a long-standing history together, and now, with your exes pairing up in a new relationship, you are reluctantly forced to work together to win them back. Will the familiarity bring you closer, or will old habits resurface, leading to further tensions?

Warnings: Mentions of weed, Manipulative regina, profanity and pretty bad writing

1.2k words

A/N:This is my first time writing a fanfic guys sue me 😔🙏

"Kiss me."

"What-" My eyes widened as cherry-flavored lipglossed lips suddenly pressed into mine, cutting off my breath and words.

How the hell did it lead to this?

2 WEEKS AGO

"What the fuck?" I muttered, my eyes widening in disbelief as I stared at my phone screen. Tina, was there in the photo, holding hands with none other than Aaron Samuels

It was a recent picture, uploaded just minutes ago, with over a hundred likes already on an account called North Shore Couples. I couldn't believe my eyes.

"N/N?" my friend Mae asked, concern evident in her voice. "You practically look like you've seen a ghost - are you alright?"

I hastily shove my phone in her face (figuratively, not literally), revealing the Instagram post I had found.

"Holy crap." she gasped, equally stunned. Brynn, our friend seated beside Mae, leaned over to get a glimpse of my phone.

"No way...Thats your ex right?" Brynn confirmed "didnt she say she was a lesbian?!" She exclaimed taking my phone.

"Exactly!" I retorted, the pain of my recent breakup with Tina after a simple misunderstanding had only happened two weeks ago, and I had been tirelessly trying to win her back by giving her flowers and chocolates daily and attempting to engage in conversation whenever we crossed paths - though she always snubbed me with a curt reply. And now, here she was, holding hands with Aaron Samuels.

My heart practically shattered into a zillion tiny pieces.

"Hold up, I thought Aaron was with Regina?" Ander dingles(if you get this i love you), our other friend interjects, snatching my phone from brynn to also examine the image.

Regina.

I can't help but wonder how she's taking it right now. My gaze instinctively drifts towards the "plastics" table, only to find the trio deeply engaged in a discussion, most likely gossiping - Their speciality

"They broke up three days ago, you doofus," Mae replied, rolling her eyes at Ander, who merely shrugged and replied "They always break up."

"I bet they'll get back together again in three days," Brynn countered, taking my phone from Ander again and glancing at the photo.

As I looked back at Regina, I saw her friend Gretchen, wide-eyed, showing her phone to the blonde. Upon seeing the screen, Regina froze for a moment before snatching the phone and accidentally dropping her fork on her tray. The cafeteria grew a bit quieter, likely because everyone knew what Gretchen had just shown Regina. Whispers spread throughout the room, adding to the tension.

"She must have found out," I muttered, turning back to my friends, oblivious to the sharp blue eyes fixated on the back of my head. As Mae grabbed my phone to scrutinize the picture again.

"Can you guys stop playing hot potato with my phone? You each have your own, for goodness sake!" I exclaimed, snatching my phone back from Mae, my irritation simmering, uncertain whether its from their phone-passing antics, my ex's sudden change in orientation, or the fact that I had been busting my ass for two long weeks just to win her back.

The chatter in the cafeteria suddenly resumed as everyone returned to their own conversations and cliques.

-

"Damn it," I muttered to myself, searching frantically through my pockets, "where the hell is it?" The math class had ended, leaving me mentally drained. I decided to take a quick break to ease my mind, but my stress levels were skyrocketing as I failed to locate my blinker in any of my pockets.

"Looking for this?" Regina's voice rang out, causing a shiver to run down my spine.

I quickly turned around, my nerves on edge, as I spotted her holding my blinker between her forefinger and thumb.

Panic surged through me, but I quickly attempted to remain composed as I glanced around the empty classroom, thankful that we were alone. "How did you get that?"

Regina responded with a snarky tone, rolling her eyes. "You don't exactly hide them very well," she quipped.

I squinted my eyes at her, dissatisfied with her dismissive answer.

With a hint of annoyance, she clarified, "It was quite literally hanging off your bag, you bimbo."

Her heels clicked against the floor as she approached me.

Regina extended her hand, offering my blinker as if she were a benevolent angel.

With caution and suspicion, I edged closer to take it, but she swiftly pulled her hand away with a mischievous smirk on her face.

I sigh, "What's the catch?" I asked irritably, knowing damn well there was something she wanted from me.

Regina feigned surprise with a sarcastic remark, "You know me so well."

"You must already know about the new couple, right?" she posed, her tone laced with insincerity.

The mention of the recent pairing of Aaron and my ex, Tina, caused me to roll my eyes.

"yeah, what about them?" I grumbled.

"They're quite the couple, aren't they?" Regina commented, though her tone lacked genuine warmth.

I huffed in frustration and demanded, "Just get to the point."

"I need your help." She says fidgeting with my blinker

"What?" I replied, raising an eyebrow questioningly. Regina stated with certainty, "Tina's your ex, right?" I nodded in affirmation.

She then added, "Well, I'm pretty sure she still has the hots for you." I couldn't help but chuckle incredulously, signaling for her to continue, my skepticism evident.

"Yeah sure, her responses to my attempts definitely suggest otherwise," I retorted dryly.

Regina disregarded my remark, "And im sure you probably want her back, just like I want Aaron back." She planted herself in one of the classroom chairs, resting her palm beneath her chin as she looked up at me, causing my jaw to clench at the mention of Aaron's name.

"That boy is incredibly naive," Regina continued. "He always comes crawling back to me, but now it's more challenging with Tina Twat around." Her gaze fixed on me, she proposed, "You can make TIna jealous and I'll make Aaron insecure, and thus, he'll come rushing back to me."

"That's manipulative," I pointed out to Regina.

She responded with a dismissive scoff, "Pfft, of course it is!" A small chuckle escaped her as her expression remained cold and mocking.

"So...lets team up" Regina suggested, looking me straight in the eyes. "just like old times, yeah?"

...

"Do you think we'll still be friends in the future?."

"Of course!"

...

"Fuck no."

Her smile faded at my rejection, replaced by a sly smirk. "Then I suppose you wouldn't mind if the school council were to find out about you and your friends little, not so legal herb business?"

Regina's smirk widened as I reluctantly backed down, not wanting my friends to get into trouble.

"I'll take that as a yes" She smiled victorious as she rose from her seat, sauntering towards me with an arrogant air. She took hold of my blinker, taking a quick hit before deliberately blowing the smoke in my face. As she placed it against my lips, I could taste the lingering sweetness of her cherry lip gloss.

"Ill see you tomorrow, after school, underneath the bleachers. Bye." Regina says, her voice laced with a mix of victory and satisfaction. She waved her fingers as she walked away, leaving me standing there, contemplating the situation.

"Cherry lipgloss sucks"

[freedomfireflies]

Always*

Summary: The fifth and final part to 404*

The one with car crashes and closet sex.

Word Count: 4.3k

*Contains Mature and Explicit content! Please only consume what you feel comfortable with!💞You are so much more important!*

Arrogant Twat: Playing hooky, that’s not like you

Arrogant Twat: You’re not that cool

Arrogant Twat: I can see you reading my messages you know

Arrogant Twat: So if you’re ignoring me, it’s not working

Arrogant Twat: …okay seriously this is really fucking childish, are you really not gonna come to work just because I won’t fuck you?

Arrogant Twat: It’s been three days, Princess, you can’t hide from me forever

You: You are so fucking annoying, I am not hiding from you, I’m SICK

You: This may come as a surprise, but my world does not revolve around you or your cock

You: So if you don’t mind, I need to go throw up

Tossing your phone down onto the bed, you rush into the bathroom to grasp onto the sink and brace yourself over the porcelain. Silently willing your body to comply, to keep the fluids down. You don’t want to be sick, but thinking about Harry always tends to make you.

You smirk to yourself at the joke before running your hands under the cold stream of water to gently rinse off your face. Needing to feel something cool against your feverish skin before you slink back to bed.

Truth be told, you don’t mind the break from work. And from Harry, specifically. Sure, you understand why he ended things. And you aren’t exactly upset about it, seeing as he wasn’t really that great of company to keep.

But he’s angry. You know he’s angry, and that’s why he claimed he wanted to stop. And you feel guilty over having pushed him there, you do. After all, you knew better. You two don’t talk about anything personal. You don’t ask questions, you don’t pry. You don’t show any sort of emotion or understanding. 

You broke the one rule. And truthfully, you aren’t quite sure how to face him now.

Overcome with fatigue, you slump back down onto your bed, and disappear beneath the covers. Pulling them up to your chin as a shiver rolls down your sweaty skin, all the way to your fuzzy sock-covered toes. 

You try to watch some television to get your mind off the pain and congestion but find yourself growing sleepier with each quippy remark from Chandler Bing.

And before you know it, you’re out like a light.

The sharp chime of your cellphone is what wakes you. Pulling you from a rather odd dream as you groggily roll over and attempt to find the noise. 

It’s a text message, followed shortly after by another. And once you manage to sit up and rub the sandman from your eyes, you see who it’s from.

Arrogant Twat: Open your door

Arrogant Twat: And hurry up, it’s fucking freezing out here

Curious, and a tad startled, you glance toward your bedroom door, almost as if expecting to see him.

He can’t possibly be outside of your apartment building right now. He has no idea where you live, nor would he ever have any desire to be here. This has to be some sort of prank. He’ll get you to walk outside into the freezing night air only to realize he’s nowhere to be found.

That is the Harry you know.

Arrogant Twat: For the love of God, Tinkerbell, open the fucking door before I freeze my ass off

With a huff (and a cough), you fling your covers back and pad over to your window, glancing down into the street.

And there he is, a dark shadowy figure lurking on the steps to your building, angrily glaring at his cellphone.

You feel your heart start to pound, overcome with confusion and intrigue. You don’t understand why he might be here or what he could possibly want so late at night. You’re tempted to send him away, or pretend he has the wrong address.

But you can’t deny that you’re curious as to what he might want or what he’ll say. Especially after the way things ended. Perhaps he’s merely here to catch you up on what you’ve missed with the project. Or maybe he just wants to complain in person.

Either way, you slip on some pajama shorts and a large, oversized sweatshirt for comfort, and head for the door. 

With a deep breath, you buzz him in, and wait anxiously as the sound of steps echoes through the stairwell and between the halls. 

No matter what happens, you’ll stand your ground. You don’t have the energy to fight him today. If he’s coming into your home, he’ll play by your rules.

There’s a knock on the door. Sharp and precise as you exhale shakily and step closer. Fingers curling around the doorknob before you swing it back and come face to face with the troublemaker himself.

He stands in the doorframe, a dark hoodie pulled over his head, and glasses perched on the bridge of his nose. 

In his right hand, he holds a brown bag, allowing it to dangle casually at his side while his eyes rake up and down your figure.

“Shit, you look terrible,” he snorts, pressing his shoulder against the entryway. “Worse than usual, I mean.”

Your expression falls, a glare beginning to form. “Well, this was fun. Buh-bye now,” you huff, already beginning to shut the door in his face.

However, he’s quick to outstretch his hand and smack his palm against the wood, keeping it open. “Okay, all right. Geez, it was just a joke. D’ya lose your sense of humor or something?”

“No, that just wasn’t funny,” you retort, but allow the door to stay ajar. “What do you want?”

He lifts the bag into the air and shakes it once. “Brought you soup.”

You blink. “You…what? Why?”

He shrugs once. “Cause you’re sick,” he says, now brushing past you to make his way into your living room. “And I’m nice.”

“Uh…no,” you nearly scoff, turning around to watch him flop down onto your sofa. “You are anything but nice to me, and you know it.”

“Well, I’m being nice today.”

“Why?”

“Why?”

“Yeah, why? Is it poisoned or something?”

You catch his wry smile as he begins to unpack the items and set them onto your coffee table. “Guess there’s only one way to find out, yeah?”

Hesitantly, you shut the door, and follow after him. Cautious of his intentions but drawn to the smell of the delicious food.

He hands you a bowl and some cutlery – which you take rather tentatively – before he straightens up and stares at you. “Are you gonna sit down?”

“I don’t know,” you admit, eyeing the only spot available beside him on the couch. “Are you still gonna be an asshole?”

“Probably.”

You huff but catch yourself smirking. “Fine, but scoot over.”

With an amused exhale of his own, he does as instructed, moving toward the edge of the sofa to make room before sitting down as well.

 Your small apartment fills with a rather uncomfortable quiet as the two of you begin to dig into your food. The silence accompanied by faint slurps and sips that almost make you smile.

And it feels weird to be here with him like this. Relaxing on the couch, eating some soup like you don’t despise each other.

Perhaps you’d even enjoy his company under any other circumstance. 

Clearing your throat, you angle your body toward his, studying his profile as his eyebrow raises. “Why are you here? Really?”

He shifts in your direction as well, grinning deviously from behind his takeout container. “Told you, I’m being nice—”

“Wrong. You’re never nice. Besides, you just accused me of hiding from you, so I don’t exactly think we’re on the best of terms.”

This makes his amusement fade, a subtle frown beginning to form as he shrugs one shoulder up in a nonchalant manner. “I don’t know. I guess it’s an apology.”

“For what?”

“For saying that,” he admits, almost quietly. Avoiding your eye as he stares at his noodles. “And maybe I kind of thought you were lying and wanted to see for myself.”

“Would you like me to vomit for you? Will that prove I’m actually unwell?”

He smiles again. “Nah, I’m good—”

“Really, it’s no trouble. I’ll do it right now, all over your lap—”

“All right,” he groans, leaning back with a crinkled nose. “Ew. No. I believe you, Princess. Fuck’s sake.”

Satisfied, you nod once. “Great. Now, onto my next question. How the hell did you get my address?”

“How do you think?” His expression is mischievous. “Got it from your file.”

“What? Why do you have access to my file?”

“Cause Prescott’s security system is way too easy to hack,” he says simply. “And I knew you’d never tell me.”

“Right. Because we don’t do that.”

“We don’t,” he agrees. “But we’re not fucking anymore, so it’s fine.”

“Oh, is it?”

“Yeah.”

“And how exactly does that work?”

“Because,” he begins, setting his things down on the coffee table, “if we’re not fucking, that means there’s no chance of you getting all clingy and attached.”

Your eyes narrow. “Uh-huh.”

“Which means we can hang out without you falling for me,” he finishes, rather smugly. “So it’s fine.”

“Just because we aren’t fucking doesn’t mean we’re friends,” you argue. “I still hate you.”

“I know. I hate you, too.”

Yet for some reason, you both smile.

“Now what’s the real reason?” you urge, nodding your chin at him. “Honestly. Why are you really here?”

He takes a beat to mull this over, standing from the sofa to collect his trash and take it to your kitchen. “Told you,” he finally says before tossing away his things. “You’re sick, and I felt bad.”

“Is that all?”

Another long pause settles between you as he readjusts the hood over his curls and saunters over to your window seat. “I didn’t want you to be hiding from me,” he admits as he slumps down, eyes flicking out into the dark night. “So I wanted to make sure we were good.”

You study him silently, taking in the way his hands disappear into the large pocket on his abdomen. “Yeah, we’re good,” you quietly reply.

He nods once but keeps his attention on the city. “Good. Cause you don’t have to hide, you know. We’re fine.”

“Yeah, I know. I just said that.”

His body lifts and falls with a small chuckle before he props his legs up onto the cushions and tosses his arms over his knees. “Well, you seemed pissed.”

“Well, I wasn’t the one that threw a hissy fit and fled from the car,” you retort. “In fact, I’m the one that politely agreed and let you go.”

“Right, but you were pissy about it. I could tell.”

“You are so full of shit.”

He laughs again. “I just don’t want you to be mad at me.”

“Oh, I am. But not for that.”

He looks over. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. You’re annoying, and you’re rude, and you’re so fucking pretentious,” you list, fighting a grin. “But you have a right to keep things to yourself, and I shouldn’t have asked. So…I’m sorry.”

He nods once, as if acknowledging the apology before returning his gaze to the window. “S’fine.”

Another lull drifts into the conversation, minutes passing by before you notice his expression shift.

“It’s not you,” he murmurs, and your eyebrows lift.

“What?”

He shifts a bit before clearing his throat. “It’s not you, I just…I don’t talk about it. Or…her.”

Her. 

The first piece to the rather large puzzle sitting before you, and you feel your breath catch as you await the rest.

You notice the way he hesitates. The reflection of the night sky in his glasses. The nervous tapping of his fingers.

“Cause if I don’t talk about it, then I don’t have to think about it,” he whispers. “And if I don’t think about, then I don’t feel like putting my fucking fist through a wall, you know?”

“I know,” you answer quietly. “You don’t have to, it’s okay.”

He snorts to himself, leaning forward. “She never should have been in that fucking car. I was supposed to drive her. She was supposed to be with me.”

And even without much context, you feel your stomach wrench, already anticipating what might have happened.

“But she was late,” he says. And it’s angry, the way he speaks. Resentful. “She was out with her friends, and she was late to meet me, and I had shit to do. So I told her. I told her I couldn’t take her to the fucking party she wanted to go to. Because I didn’t want to be out all fucking night. I wanted to get my shit done and go to bed.”

You feel your throat run dry, tears beginning to form as you watch him recall the memory.

“I told her to get an Uber,” he continues, aggravated at first before it settles into something soft and somber. “I made her get into that car, and I watched her go. And I didn’t fucking care. Because I wanted to stay home, so I made her go by herself, and it fucking…and she didn’t…”

Your feet desperately want to carry you to him. To provide him some sort of comfort as he keeps his glare on the city horizon.

But you stay seated on the sofa, waiting for whatever he might offer next as he takes a deep breath.

“And she was just gone,” he murmurs, the air in the room shifting instantly. “She was fucking gone not even an hour later.”

The first drop slips down your cheek before you can wipe it away.

He exhales an amused laugh, the corner of his mouth twitching up. “And I always think how funny it is that the last thing she ever said to me was, ‘Sleep well, H.’ And I haven’t slept well since.”

Now, he looks to you. Studying you almost sadly as you sit in wait.

“And then there was you,” he says. “You, and your shitty ass jokes, and your cocky little grin. You were everywhere. Every day. Sitting across from me, asking if I wanted to split a fucking everything bagel.”

You’re almost tempted to smile, but the truth of what he’s saying cuts too deep.

“And I hated it,” he admits, eyes flicking between yours. “I fucking hated it because you made me forget. Whenever I would talk to you, I would forget. I would just stare at you as you rambled on and on about the algorithm and the fucking API, and I wouldn’t think about her, and I’d forget how fucking angry I was.”

He smiles almost wryly, making your insides twist.

“And I didn’t want to forget,” he tells you. “I wanted to be angry. I wanted to punish myself for what I’d done. Because I didn’t deserve to forget. I didn’t deserve to be happy. Especially with you.”

You sit up, wrestling with the temptation to argue, but he’s already looking back out the window.

“So, yeah, maybe hating you was easier. And maybe fucking you was selfish, but it felt like the only choice. Because sex is just sex. And if I kept you at a distance – at least in some ways – I wouldn’t have to lose you, too.”

 You stand and make your way for the window seat, settling in front of him as he turns to watch you. He looks like he wants to roll his eyes, perhaps in an attempt to avoid your pity, but you lean forward, nonetheless.

“You know it’s not your fault, right?” you whisper, ignoring his amused expression. “You don’t deserve to be punished for something you couldn’t control.”

He smirks, but you can see the hint of sadness written between the lines of his face. “Thanks, Dr. Phil. I’ll keep that in mind.”

But you don’t let him tease his way out of this, instead settling your hands atop his knees to recapture his attention. “I’m serious, Harry. I know she wouldn’t blame you. How can you blame yourself?”

His smug grin falters for half a second. “Because there’s no one else to blame.”

A lump lodges in your throat as you scoot a bit closer. “Exactly. It was an accident. Unfair and uncontrollable. But it was never your fault. It was never your burden to carry.”

He leans his head back against the wall, but his attention never leaves you. Almost as though he’s afraid to look away. 

“You can hate me,” you tell him. “I don’t mind that. Hating you is easier for me, too. But you can’t punish yourself for this. You can’t keep yourself from being happy. Not when you deserve it more than anybody I know.”

And maybe this is the first time you’ve ever really understood him. The first time you’ve felt truly connected to the man before you – even more so than when he was inside of you.

Because suddenly, things don’t feel so heavy. The world doesn’t seem so dark. And maybe, just maybe…he’s not so bad.

He drops his legs and sits up to reach for you. A large palm slipping around the back of your neck while you suck in a quiet breath and lean away.

“No,” you whisper, making his eyebrows raise. “I’m sick.”

He laughs, almost as though enchanted by your response. That charming dimple reemerging. “I don’t care.”

“Well you should,” you argue. “Seriously, it’s gross over here. There’s snot and I’ve been coughing all day—”

“Tink,” he murmurs, moving closer, attention dropping to your lips. “Stop talking.”

So…you do.

You let his mouth press to yours, settling into the feel of his touch. Something you weren’t sure you’d ever get to feel again. And despite everything else…you’re content.

He kisses your top lip. Your bottom lip. Steals a breath right from your lungs before nudging his nose with yours. “I still hate you.”

Your fingers tangle into the dark hoodie on his chest. “Yeah. I hate you, too.”

He smiles.

You aren’t sure what to expect come Monday morning. After all, you’re never sure what to expect with Harry.

You left things…friendly but undecided. As far as you know, nothing has changed. Harry is still the arrogant twat you’re forced to tolerate, and maybe that’s all he’ll ever be.

But maybe…you’re okay with that.

If you never fuck him again, perhaps that’s not the worst thing. Becoming his frenemy is decidedly less exhausting than being anything else. And you suppose you don’t want much more than that. At least not right now. You’re happy to hate him for as long as he’ll let you.

But you aren’t sure how he’ll feel about his admission in the light of day. Maybe he’ll regret sharing something so personal. Maybe he’ll resent you for knowing it. Maybe he’ll request the two of you never speak again.

Lucas does his best to engage in small talk with you as you anxiously await Harry’s arrival. Politely ignoring the way you continue to check your watch and glance toward his desk. 

In fact, you eventually become so engrossed in the conversation with the friendly newcomer that you miss that aforementioned ball of thunder striding through the lab.

Nothing seems out of the ordinary. He throws his things down and slouches into his chair to begin working. Not bothering with a greeting or even a look of acknowledgement. 

Truth be told, you aren’t sure whether to be relieved or disappointed.

And then the lunch hour begins. You assume he’ll disappear to the cafeteria as usual to grab a sandwich before returning to hide himself away in the lab.

Yet today is different. Today he stands up, turns around, and steps up to where you’re sitting.

Before you can even turn around, he dips down, and whispers, “Supply closet. Five minutes.”

With that, he’s gone. Slipping between the computers and desks before disappearing into the hallway as a smile stretches across your face.

After anxiously counting the seconds, you begin to follow. Double checking to make sure no one pays you any mind. 

Once you’re satisfied, you make your way to the closet, and knock twice.

The door swings open, and you barely get the chance to offer a greeting before he’s tugging you inside, flinging the door shut, and pushing you up against it.

 His lips find yours and it’s anxious. His kisses are desperate and rushed but so fucking addictive. 

His hands are on your waist while yours disappear into his hair. His glasses are nudged out of place but neither of you care to stop and fix them. Instead groaning eagerly as he sucks on your tongue.

His hips press to yours, the subtle but familiar bulge hard against your thigh as you drop your head back and whimper. Anxiously pleading with him through a pointed look.

The flick of the button on your jeans is fast and practiced. The material pooling around your ankles while he works to tug his own pants down. 

Two fingers hook onto the crotch of your panties to pull them aside before he slides the long digits through. Feeling just how frantic you really are. 

He kisses you again as he slides them inside, curling and pumping just so. Smirking when he hears your arousal echo between the walls.

Nipping at your bottom lip, he whispers, “This doesn’t change anything. I still hate you.”

Sighing contently at the way his thumb massages your clit, you say, “Good. I hate you, too.”

He snorts. “Sure, Princess. Is that why you’re so fucking wet?”

To accentuate his point, he thrusts to the knuckle, stroking a particular spot that makes your toes curl and your eyes roll back.

“S’fucking pathetic,” he murmurs, glancing down, “how easy it is to play with you. Don’t have to do anything, do I? Just have to tease you a little and you’ll soak my fucking hand.”

Your fingers curl into his shirt, either as an act of defiance or out of need for stability. You aren’t sure.

“Cause you like it, don’t you?” he continues, moving his kisses to your neck. “Gets you off to be insulated. Degraded. Get all wet and squirmy at the thought of me putting you in your place, yeah?”

You don’t want to agree with him, but you both know he’s right. Even now, the cold cadence in which he speaks makes your legs shake. 

“Yeah,” he answers for you in a soft but smug hum. “Know you do. Know you just wanna be put on your knees. Where you belong.”

With this thought, he pulls his fingers from your pussy, leaving you to wilt while he tugs his cock out.

There’s not much care as he swiftly and almost angrily tugs your leg up and throws it around his hip. He offers no words of reassurance or looks of encouragement while the tip drags through your folds before slowly disappearing into your cunt.

He ignores your strangled inhale, forehead finding yours as he grits, “Maybe I should do that next. Wrap your pretty ponytail around my fist while I fuck your throat.”

Your lashes flutter shut, nails scraping down his arms. 

“Bet you’d like that, wouldn’t you, Tink?” He pauses for only a moment to let you adjust. “Like it when I make tears run down your face, yeah?”

However, you can’t offer him any reply. Instead focusing on the familiar ache that accompanies the stretch of his large size. 

He pushes in a bit more, wary of your reaction, but overcome with pleasure at the way you take him. “You do,” he decides, that smile returning. “Can feel your little pussy clenching around me. Is that what you want, Princess? Want me to be mean to you?”

Truth be told, you suppose it is. Anything else wouldn’t feel right.

His hand raises to your throat, fingers curling around the delicate and soft skin of your neck before he squeezes once. Keeping your head pressed against the door.

“Take me,” he murmurs harshly before burying himself all the way. Ignoring your gasps and whines. “Fucking take me, Tink. Just like that. S’a good fucking girl. Always behave so well for me, hm? Just for me. Nobody else.”

He sets a slow but hard pace. Looking down at where his cock disappears into your pussy with a dazed look in his eye.

“Do you think about him, Princess?” he asks you next, giving your throat another squeeze. “D’ya think about your precious fucking Lucas when I fuck you? Or do you think about him when you’re all alone? Trying to get yourself off?”

Your mouth opens, ready to reply, but all that follows his remark is a desolate and strained whimper. 

“Or do you think about me?” His lips ghost along the tender skin below your ear. Breathing softly before kissing the spot sweetly. A stark contrast to the vile way he speaks. “Think about how good I am to you…how I take care of you. Picture my hands, my voice, my fucking cock.”

And he’s right. In every fantasy, you see his face, first and foremost. Whisper his name into the air of your room as your fingers curl into your cunt. 

It’s always him.

“Say it,” he murmurs now, offering another gentle kiss to your neck. “Tell me I’m the only one. Fucking tell me I’m the only one you cum for.”

Your fingernails move to scrape down his scalp, tangling in his soft curls as you subtly keep him in your arms. 

You’re not too surprised by this request. Even if the two of you might never be anything more than friends, you imagine he needs to know. He needs to hear that even after everything, you still choose him.

You’re tempted to taunt him with a quippy retort. Egg him on, tell him he’s nothing compared to your vibrator. 

Yet you find yourself whispering, “Only you, Har. Only ever you.”

For a moment, he stills. As if overcome by the words, the admission.

You pull him further into your embrace. “Always you.”

With a smirk, he leans back just far enough to meet your eye. 

And you both smile.

“That’s my fucking girl.”

🥹 I can't believe we've made it to the end of the main series!!! No they're not technically together right now, BUT!!! There will be extras and who knows what they might get up to later ALSFJEFD

Thank you so much to everyone for reading and being so kind, I appreciate you all more than you know!!! You have my entire heart to heaven and back!!!! AND TINK, HARRY, AND I WILL SEE YOU AGAIN VERY SOON!! Specifically for the Halloween extra HAHAHA 😭♥️♥️

Next Part:

~ A-Mazing* (Halloween Extra)

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~ Jealous* (Pt. 4)

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[rafesfavgirl]

i just want to know — r. cameron

another sad one bc i apparently don't know when to stop lol

❝ you didn't measure up in any measure of a man and i don't even want you back,  i just want to know ❞

pairing: ex-situationship!rafe x fem!reader

context: on the night of your 21st birthday, you run into rafe cameron—the boy who broke your heart.

words: 1.3k+

warnings: mentions of a toxic situationship, drunk!reader, word vomit, alcohol use, cigarette use, might make you cry, so much ANGST

you tumble out of the bar, your vision getting hazy from the amount of alcohol you'd drank, when two hands reach out to steady you.

"woah there, doll," the familiar drawl of his voice catches your attention, the alcohol haze fading for just a second as your eyes meet his.

rafe cameron.

"those are bad for you, you know," you point at the unlit cigarette hanging from the side of his mouth and he narrows his eyes at you, amused at your drunken state.

"and alcohol's not good for you either, but that didn't stop you, did it?" he kinks an eyebrow and you giggle.

"touché," you nod once and slip out of his arms to walk along the sidewalk, before slipping down against the brick wall of the bar to sit down on the concrete.

"alright, what are you doing?" rafe walks over to you when you begin unstrapping your heels from your feet.

"these shoes have been killing me all night," you complain, letting out a sigh of relief and tossing them off to the side.

"then why do you wear them?" rafe asks, taking a seat beside you.

"because they make my legs look hot," you say, causing him to chuckle.

he couldn't exactly argue. when the two of you used to go out, your legs were one of his favorite things about you—especially the way they looked wrapped around his waist.

"where are your friends, doll?" rafe takes the cigarette out of his mouth and shoves it into his pocket.

"don't know," you shrug. "making out with some guys, maybe?"

"and why aren't you?" he asks. "isn't it your birthday?"

that makes you snap your head towards him. "are you stalking me?"

"i-"

"i'm just kidding," you playfully hit his arm and giggle, causing him to shake his head at you, amused. "and to answer your question, i prefer to be single."

"oh?" his eyebrows raise, his blue irises boring into yours. "and why's that?"

"it keeps me focused," you say, pointing a finger at your forehead.

"focused on what?"

"school, college, my career…" you begin listing things off, and rafe listens intently. "i wanna be a doctor, you know. can't be out and about dating guys and getting my heartbroken."

"just 'cause you meet a guy in a bar doesn't mean you gotta date 'em," he reminds you. "don't you wanna have fun?"

"i tried that already, remember?" you allude to the situation you'd put yourself in with him a year ago, the alcohol clearly clouding your judgment—you'd never bring that up to him sober. "it didn't work out quite how i wanted it to."

a sigh falls from his lips, as he glances down. "y/n…"

"hey, can i ask you something?" you cut him off, and he picks his head up to look at you again.

"are you in the state to ask me something?"

"probably not," you shake your head, a smile on your lips. "but i probably won't get the chance to ask again."

"alright, shoot," he nodded.

you tilt your head to the side, eyes locking with his. "why did you end it?"

by the way his shoulders shift and his posture straightens, it was clear he wasn't expecting that to be the question. he always thought it ended amicably because you both agreed to it—or maybe that's just what he's told himself to prevent himself from feeling bad for breaking your heart.

"i mean, was it me?" you continue when he doesn't answer. "did i do something wrong? was i not experienced enough? did you just feel bad for me? what was it? cause i've driven myself crazy trying to figure it out and i just— i thought we were having fun."

you knew that you'd began to ramble, questions slipping out of your mouth with no filter, the alcohol winning over.

his eyes scan over your face, which looked to be in agony, your eyebrows scrunched and your eyes pleading.

"we were," he nods. "y/n, it never had anything to do with you."

"then why?" you asked, voice cracking.

the alcohol was now making you emotional, and there was no stopping it.

"why did you end it, rafe?" you poke a finger at his chest. "i thought you liked me."

"i did," he said, hand reaching up to push a piece of your back. "oh, pretty girl, i did."

his touch lingers for a second before it's gone again, and your eyes are welling up with tears.

"then why were there always other girls?" you ask, surprising him—he didn't know you knew about them. "if you liked me, why was there always someone else? why were you always with someone else when you weren't with me? why wasn't i enough for you?"

"i— i didn't think you knew about them," he admits.

"i pretended not to," you shrug, sniffling. "thought if i said something, i'd lose you. i mean, it's not like we were dating, y'know? i wasn't your girlfriend— it wasn't my place to tell you not to be with other girls. i just thought that if i'd stuck around long enough you'd realize that—" you stop and shake your head. "you know what, it doesn't even matter. it's not like it's gonna change anything."

well now, he felt like shit. you'd played it off so well when it ended—or maybe he was just too high to notice—but seeing you like this… he'd be lying to himself if he said it didn't break his heart.  "i didn't know you cared that much."

"well, now you do," you tell him, before pushing off the ground to stand up. "and if you'll excuse me, i'm not really in the party mood anymore, so if you see my friends, tell them i left."

"y/n, wait," rafe scrambles to his feet, his hand reaching out to clasp around your wrist to stop you from walking away.

"what?" you turn to look at him, defeated. this wasn't exactly how you expected the night of your 21st birthday to pan out.

"i'm sorry, a'ight?" he drops his hand from your wrist, shoulders shrugging as his sad eyes met yours. "i never wanted to hurt you, i just— i wasn't ready."

"and that was fine," you tell him. "but you should've told me that. not pretended like you were taking me seriously when you weren't. i asked you so many times, rafe. and you lied, every time."

rafe sighs, hand motioning to you. "you were just so pure. perfect. i didn't have it in me to hurt you."

you scoff, head shaking as you eyes averted to the side. "doesn't mean you didn't."

"i know, i know," he closes the distance between you, taking both your hands in his. "and there is not a day that goes by where i don't kick myself for how horribly i treated you."

well, this was definitely news to you. when he called things off with you, claiming that it'd be too hard because you were going off to college and meeting new people, he made it look so easy. the words rolled off his tongue as if he'd said it a thousand times before. while you were falling for him, you were just another girl.

"i am so sorry," he says, eyes zoned in on yours. "the last thing i wanted was for you to feel as if you weren't enough for me. if anything, you were too much. and i mean that in a good way. i was too much of an idiot to see how special you were then."

though you'd waited for him to say those words the last six months, they didn't mean much to you now. you'd already come to terms with the fact that he just wasn't the one—hearing him say this now only provides you the closure you so desperately needed to move on for good.

"god," he brings a hand up to caress your cheek, and for just a second, you let yourself lean into it. "some guy is gonna be lucky as hell to get you one day."

"that guy just isn't you."

a small, sad smile forms on his lips, but he nods. "happy birthday."

y'all i think this one triggered something in me bc why tf am i crying rn 🌝

promise i'll start working on some cuter fics that aren't so heartbreaking!!!

reblogs and comments are deeply appreciated <33

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tags: @chiaraanatra @ijustwanttoreadlols @wearemadeofstardust0 @rafesgiirl @solanathascientst @10ava01 @werewhatkilledthedinosaurs @emotionsmgcbabe @outerbankspov @letmeintourheart @gublerstylesobrien1238 @deadgirlwalkingirl @my-fabulousness-has-arrived @jul1ettt @ihe4rttwd @samkickikc @ramblingsofadramastudent @maibelitaaura @vilentia

[heeology]

it doesn't count if we don't kiss | l.hs

synopsis → finding out your ex-boyfriend is now dating your best friend was appalling news to hear. sure, you’re the one who initiated the break-up, but you never intended for this to happen. seeing heeseung with your friend ignited jealousy that you’ve never felt before. afterall, he pretty much worships the ground you walk on and it was clear he was only doing this to get a reaction out of you. your theories are only proven right once he comes over and makes a point you both can’t deny.

genre → former lovers, smut

pairing → nonidol!heeseung x fem!reader

warnings → MDNI, cheating

w.c. → 2k

!!DO NOT COPY OR REPOST!!

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You’re not too sure why you invited him into your place when you opened your door and saw him standing there. You two haven’t really spoken to each other since you broke up with him, but that’s not to say that you haven’t exchanged glances and lingering stares with each other whenever you and him are with your best friend. So, now, here you are with your ex-boyfriend sitting on one end of the couch while you sit on the other, still waiting for him to answer the question you had asked him on why exactly he was here in the first place.

You cross your arms as you look at him, your eyes scanning carefully from his legs all the way to his hair, carefully eyeing his figure. He notices out of the corner of his eye and normally, he would be nervous, but he was trying his best not to show it; not to show you still hold that kind of power over him. You fall for it, raising an eyebrow as you try to figure out what exactly influenced this sudden change in him. Sure, you used to find it cute, him being nervous around you, but then you found it to make things awkward. 

You continue to think as he sits back and sighs, spreading his legs apart a little, making your eyes shift to look at his crotch for a split second. He notices that, too, making him smirk. You roll your eyes at his expression and let out a huff.

“If all you’re going to do is sit there, I would much rather you just get up and leave.”

He rolls his eyes a little and leans forward, resting his elbows on his legs as he clasps his hands together. He turns his head to look at you and sees how you, having your arms crossed, kind of pushes your boobs together and he clears his throat as he turns his head to look down, trying not to get a boner.

“I just came because I wanted to make sure everything is cool between us.”

“Bullshit.” you say.

He turns to look back at you, sitting up and resting his back against the couch. He looks into your eyes, seeing how annoyed you are at his lame excuse, although he does mean it.

“I know that it’s awkward now that I’m dating your best friend, but-”

“Stop.” you close your eyes and hold out your hands.

You open your eyes, tears oddly beginning to brim them. Hearing him say that stuck a nerve and even when you found out that they started dating, you had never cried over it. But here he is, sitting just across from you, and you can’t do anything about it. You know you have no place to cry, which is why you never did; you broke up with him. 

He feels his heart swell when he sees you trying to hold back your tears and he realizes, still, just how much he loves you. Dating your best friend, as cruel as it is to say, was just a lame attempt to get over you and it clearly wasn’t working. He scoots closer to you and you feel a lump form in your throat as one tear escapes from your eye, against your will. 

He reaches out, hesitantly, to place his hand on your cheek before wiping away the tear gently. You close your eyes as you feel your breath hitch, indulging in his familiar touch, realizing just how much you miss it; how much you miss him. You open your eyes, meeting his gaze, him now sitting closer and only inches away from your face, only inches away from your lips. Your eyes flick between looking into his eyes and at his lips. You look back at his eyes, slowly, and he bites his lip, leaning in. 

As much as you want to, as much as you want him to kiss you and as much as you want him to be yours, you know you can’t. 

“Heeseung…” you trail off, stopping him from moving any closer.

Your noses are touching, both of your eyes closed, knowing that if you looked at each other, you wouldn’t be able to stop from going any further.

“Please…” he pleads. He misses you so much, he loves you so much, he needs you so much.

“I want to, but we can’t.” you whisper, slightly pulling away.

He won’t let you, he won’t let you go again. You both open your eyes and he looks at you, determined. Then, he thinks of something, something that may not even be correct, but he wants it to be true anyway.

“It doesn’t count if we don’t kiss.”

You scoff a little, knowing full and well that that specifically doesn’t matter: cheating is cheating. But you find your hand subconsciously rubbing his thigh, your touch automatically giving him a boner. You move your hand further up, palming him, and he lets out a hiss from the sudden contact.

“Fuck it.” you say, pushing him against the back of your couch.

He finds himself internally thanking God that this is happening and you get off of the couch, kneeling in front of him. He feels his heartbeat fasten at the sight, but finds the confidence to stroke your hair as he spreads his legs, smirking at you. You find his newfound confidence to be a big turn on, and you hold eye contact with him and you begin to undo his pants, him raising his hips as you pull them and his boxers down to pool around his ankles.

He sighs happily when you grip his long, thick, veiny cock in your hand, the tip leaking with precum. You lick your lips and he swears he is going to lose his mind. You leave light kisses along his shaft, making his breath get caught in his throat as he watches you, carefully and diligently. You look at him innocently, licking off his precum and his eyelids flutter closed as his head falls back. You tease him a little, only continuing to lick the tip and he whines, looking at you with frustration. 

“Fuck, don’t be like that.” he manages to sputter out through his shallow breaths.

You give in, opening your mouth before you wrap your lips around his length. His mouth falls agape and he grips your hair, not pushing you and letting you go at your own pace. Your head bobs up and down, letting out sighs, sending vibrations along his cock, inching him closer to his orgasm. Saliva drips down his shaft as you continue sucking and he lets out a string of moans when you take all of him into your mouth, him feeling the back of your throat. He accidentally thrusts into you.

“Shit, sorry.” he apologizes quickly, but he does it again. “Fuck-” he says, you pulling off of him. He thinks that he messed up and deeply regrets it, seeing saliva on your lips, you looking so fucking hot. 

“Do what you want, baby.” you say, pumping him a few times with your hand, covering your hand in your own saliva as well, before putting him in your mouth again. 

You moan against him, closing your eyes as some part of you now wants him to just fuck your mouth. Your wish is his command as he begins to thrust in your mouth. He gets lost in his movements, letting out a string of curse words and moans as he uses you. You moan again and he picks up his pace before letting out a whine and shutting his eyes tight, his head falling back and he cums in your mouth. 

You swallow all of his release, taking his cock out of your mouth and kissing the tip. He looks back at you, panting, before helping you up and laying you back on the couch, him now hovering over you. He pulls off your shorts and almost cums again seeing you’re not wearing any panties.

“Fuck, did you know I was coming over?”

You laugh a little and shake your head, you pull him close so you can whisper in his ear, “I’m not wearing a bra either.” 

Now this, he’s gotta see. His eyes widen as his cock becomes hard again. He pulls off his pants and boxers completely before leaning back down to your neck, kissing and sucking as he leaves hickies pretty much everywhere. You’re his; you’ll always be his. His hand caresses your thigh as you moan, spreading your legs more, bucking your hips up, trying to come in contact with his dick.

With his other hand, he holds your hips down and pulls away from your neck. He looks at you and kisses your forehead before smirking. He leans back and grips his cock in one of his hands, running the tip along your wet pussy. You bite your lip and he watches, his other hand pushing up your shirt, just enough so your breasts are exposed. He coos as he sees your nipples get hard, rolling one of your nipples between his fingers.

“Heeseung, I swear-”

“Hmm? What are you going to do?” he asks, pulling his cock away from you, but still fondling your breast, squeezing it lightly, making you moan. “Are you going to tell your best friend just how badly I’m treating you?”

You feel your face become hot and all he does is just grin. He leans back to whisper in your ear, “Don’t worry, I’m only yours.” he whispers before pushing his thick cock inside of you. You gasp, your back arching a little and he groans, relishing in how good you feel. “Fuck, you’re so wet.” he whines, trying to keep his composure, but he just wants to feel you clench around him, crying out his name, as you cum all over his dick. 

He doesn’t waste any time, he thrusts into you fast and hard, shaking the couch a little. One arm wrapped around your waist to keep you in place and the other gripping the armrest on the couch. Your fingernails dig into his back as he pounds into your throbbing pussy.

“Fuck, Heeseung…” you moan.

He rest his forehead on yours as he continues to fuck you mindlessley, wanting to kiss you so bad. He tries to distract himself by pulling away, throwing your legs over his shoulders, fucking you deeper. He watches as your tits bounce and how you grip his forearms, your face contorting in pleasure. You watch him, his hair starting to stick to his forehead as his thrusts become a little sloppy, his cock twitching inside of you, making you throw your head back.

“Heeseung-” you call out, clenching around him as you cum, letting out shallow breaths and moans.

Hearing that is all he needed; it’s all he wanted. He clenches his jaw as he ruts into you a few more times before cumming. He takes your legs off of his shoulders as he pulls out of you, watching as your cum spills out of you. He takes his fingers and pushes the cum back inside of you, a whine escaping your lips. You push his hand away, standing up, cum now dripping down your inner thigh. He stands as well, both of you out of breath, and your legs shaking a little. He pulls you close, kissing your cheek, before wrapping his arms around your waist, hugging you tightly as if he doesn’t want to lose you. You hug him back after a moment, closing your eyes.

A part of you is a little sad, not knowing what this leads to, but even though you are trying to deny it, you know it changes nothing; it will be like nothing happened. No matter if you both want it to mean something, neither of you will admit it. Afterall: it doesn’t count if we don’t kiss. Both in terms of cheating and in terms of making up.

[munsonluhvr]

HOW TO FAKE IT (MINI SERIES) (PART 1)

contents: steve harrington x reader. best friends/fake dating to lovers. sfw! In an attempt to cover up a lie and make his ex-gf jealous, Steve enlists you, his best friend, to fake date him // slowwww burn. word count - 3.7k

notes: welcome to 1/4 of 'how to fake it,' my first mini series for Steve Harrington. I hope you enjoy; part 2 coming soon!

installments: part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4

“Steve, as much as I care for you, I can’t take this anymore,” you say, leaning on the counter of Scoops Ahoy. “You have to stop; It’s been months and she’s not changing her mind.” 

Steve sighs, shaking his head. His scoops ahoy hat slips down on his head, nearly falling off. “Don’t say that, yes she will. I’m Steve Harrington, she has to take me back.” 

For the hundredth time, you were listening to your best friend Steve complain about his ex-girlfriend Tina – who broke up with him several months ago, and despite Steve’s beliefs, was not taking him back any time soon. Although Steve was torn up about the breakup, you were relieved for him. Tina was a bitch, and you knew Steve could do a lot better. 

“There’s a million girls in Hawkins, you can find somebody else.” You hum, starting to roll your eyes at Steve’s demeanor. “It’s not healthy to be dwelling on someone who obviously doesn’t care about you.” 

Steve fumbles with an ice cream scoop, sighing as he fiddles with the utensil. “She’s going to come back, just wait.” 

Behind you, the door bell jingles, signaling that a customer is entering the ice cream shop. Steve’s head jerks up: “Welcome to Scoops-“ Steve says, his voice trailing off towards the end of his mandatory phrase. You watch as Steve’s face drops, his mouth gaping at the sight behind you. You turn around, seeing exactly what Steve was looking at. 

As if she had been in the room seconds earlier, waiting for Steve to say the magic words that she’d come back, Tina, and a male dressed in a Hawkins sports team jacket, walk through the ice cream shops door. When Tina realizes it’s you and Steve at the counter, you can tell she wants to turn on her heel and walk out. You can’t help but roll your eyes and shake your head. 

“Oh,” Tina says, her eyes catching yours briefly. “I didn’t think you’d still be working here.” 

You lean back against the counter, crossing your arms over your chest. Tina always hated you due to the way you and Steve were so close. You and Steve had inside jokes and regularly scheduled hang outs; all of which Tina despised. To Tina, you were a constant competition.

“It’s my job, Tina, why would I have quit?” Steve says, flushing at the sight of his ex-girlfriend. 

Tina shrugs, tossing her blonde hair over her shoulder. Even from a few feet away you can smell her sickeningly sweet perfume. “I don’t know, it’s just what I figured,” Tina hums, clasping her hands in front of her. The boy next to her, someone you didn’t recognize, stood next to Tina silently.

Steve, ignoring the fact that Tina had a male with her, was upfront. “I’ve called you a bunch of times and you’ve never called back.” 

You let your eyes close out of discomfirt and awkwardness. You can’t bear to watch your best friend gravel with the devil. 

“Yeah, I know Steve. We broke up, there’s not much else to say. I mean I’ve moved on already.” Tina says, gesturing towards the boy next to her. The boy had no facial expression whatsoever, his eyes trained on the rows of ice cream, standing there as if he was a rock. “You’re not seeing anyone?” 

Steve shifts behind you on the other side of the counter, obviously thinking of some excuse. “No, I am.”  You frown, looking over your shoulder at Steve. You give him a look, wondering how he was going to maneuver out of this conversation. 

“Who?” Tina asks. “Do I know her?” 

Steve shrugs, trying to avoid naming an imaginary girl. “Can I get you anything? We have a bunch of new flavors this week.” 

Tina sniffs and shakes her head, obviously unsatisfied at the lack of answer Steve gives her. You’re sure she’s going to go home and phone her friends to see if Steve is dating one of her perky, blonde friends. Even though she's trying to be nonchalant, you have no doubt Tina brought her new boyfriend to Scoops Ahoy, knowing that Steve would be working - just to make him jealous.  “Chrissy Cunningham and Jason Carver are having a party at Jason’s house tomorrow; you should bring your girlfriend. I’d love to meet her.” Tina says with a painfully fake smile.  “I’m glad we’ve both moved on.” 

Steve smiles, standing up straighter. “We’ll be there.” With a single nod, Tina turns on her heel and walks out of the store.  Once Tina is out of the store, you turn sharply towards Steve. “What the hell was that?”

Steve covers his face with his hands, bending across the counter to lean on the platform. “I know, I know, I screwed up. I didn’t know what to say.” 

“Well, good luck with that. Getting a girlfriend by tomorrow should be interesting.” 

Steve groans, “I’m so screwed.” 

You lean back on your bed, a book resting on the top of your thighs. You're dressed in your favorite pajama set, fuzzy socks adorning your feet. After you visited Steve, his lack of a girlfriend unresolved, you headed home, nestling into your bed early. Throughout the rest of the evening, your mind circled back to the Steve and Tina situation, each time you thought about it you couldn’t help but laugh to yourself.

You are engrossed in your book, about to flip a page, when you hear a soft knock on your window. You pause, thinking it could be the wind and choose to ignore the sound. The knock happens a second time and you get up from your bed, moving to look out your window. You hold back a scream when you see Steve on the other side, sitting on your roof. 

“Steve,” you say, lifting up the window. “It’s like you want my parents to catch you and ground me for sneaking you into my room.” 

Steve maneuvers into your room through the open window. “Your parents love me, they wouldn’t mind.” 

You scoff, lowering your voice. “If they love you then why didn’t you use the front door?” 

Steve waves his hand, sitting on the edge of your bed. “Let’s not focus on that, let’s focus on why I’m here.” 

You sit on the chair that’s tucked into your desk, sitting across from Steve. “Go on.” 

“So I was thinking - I want you to be my fake girlfriend.” Steve says, glancing at you. “You’re the person who knows me best and we get along great; you’d play a perfect girlfriend.” 

“Are you crazy?” You look at Steve as if he has ten heads, shaking your head. “No, I won’t.” 

“Why not? It would totally piss off Tina, no offense but she hates you. It can just be for tomorrow and then we can break up.” 

You scoff again, looking away at the other side of your room. “I don’t want to be known as one of the notches in your belt. Plus, that’s just weird, everyone knows we’re best friends.”  

Steve pouts, wringing his hands together. “Y/n, please. Just for tomorrow, I need Tina to be jealous and see what she’s missing out on.”

You surprise yourself when you catch yourself considering Steve's proposition. It's insane to fake date Steve; you're sure nobody would believe it but Steve looks so pathetic sitting at the edge of the bed, his big, brown eyes wide with hope that you'll agree. Steve is your best friend, and you truly would do anything to help him, potentially even fake date him for an evening. Steve has always been there for you, taking you to go see 'girly' movies, sneaking you your favorite flavor of ice cream after he finishes work at Scoops Ahoy. What will everyone think? What will everyone say? You push the unanswerable questions out of your mind, sighing as you realize what you’re about to say.

“Fine, I’ll do it.”

“If we leave now we could probably make the last viewing at Hawkins Theater,” you say while glancing out Steve’s passenger window, Jason Carver’s home staring back at you. You sit in his car, your trendiest dress on with converse sneakers – and Steve’s old varsity basketball jacket on (a prop in which he insisted on you wearing to make your relationship believable). The jacket dwarfs your body, the sleeves are entirely too big for your arms; and it smells of mothballs, signaling that Steve had pulled the article of clothing out just for this occasion. 

“We’ll just stay for a little while, until Tina notices us.” Steve says, pushing his sunglasses onto his face even though it’s 9 o’clock and dark out. From previous experience, staying ‘a little while’ at a party meant staying until it was over, and people were heading home. 

Steve pops his driver’s door open, coming around the front of the car to open the passenger door. “Ready to do this?” Steve asks, slinging his arm over your shoulder. He brings you in close to his body, his grip tight on you. You can feel his nervousness through his touch. 

You weren’t entirely sure if you were ready, you hadn’t even fully processed the arrangement you and Steve had come up with. After you agreed to fake dating Steve, you both shook on the fact that the arrangement wouldn’t last longer then tonight. You never dated before, Steve dated enough for the both of you, and you weren’t sure how to act as a girlfriend. You decided to take cues from the movies you watched, picking up pointers from the characters. 

You are also, of course, nervous about how other’s would perceive you as Steve’s girlfriend. You are meek, your personality only coming out for Steve and your other friends, and you preferred to stay home and read rather than partying with Tina. Everyone knew you as Steve’s best friend but how would they receive you as Steve’s girlfriend? 

“Ready,” you say despite your lack of confidence. Within a few strides you’re at Jason Carvers front door. Even from outside you can hear the chatter, music, and laughter that’s unfolding inside. Steve reaches out, grasping the doorknob. Before twisting it to unlatch the door, he hesitates beside you. 

The door creaks open, revealing the cramped hallways and rooms of the Carver household. Dozens of people in chic 80s clothing flitter around the house, red solo cups in their hands. Off to your right is the living room, people standing against the wall in groups or sitting on the two sofa that faced each other. To your left is the dining room, a long table covered in bottles of alcohol and cheap party snacks. Straight ahead was the kitchen, a girl being encouraged to drink from the keg. 

“Steve!” A voice calls from the crowd. Your eyes follow the sound, revealing Jason who pushes his way through the crowd. “So glad you made it, we can’t have a party without our king of the keg. And you brought y/n; of course, you did, you guys are a pair.” Though Jason’s eyes linger on Steve’s arm around your shoulders. 

Steve laughs, looking off into the crowd, no doubt trying to spy Tina. “Y/n is actually my date to the party, she’s my girlfriend.” 

Jason’s eyebrows raise as he rocks back onto his heels. “Wow; I wish I could say I’m surprised but I guess I always thought you guys would be good for each other.” 

Now you frown, realizing Jason actually could see you and Steve as a couple. You wish you could tell Jason that he was wrong, that you and Steve would never date. 

“Does Tina know?” Jason asks before Steve or you could answer. 

“Now she does,” Steve says, nodding his head in the direction of the living room. Tina stood in the middle of the room; a red solo cup placed tightly within her grip. You could tell she was fuming. Jason recognized Tina’s distraught look and glances at you and Steve. “I should probably bring up another keg from the basement, enjoy the party.” Jason says, slipping away quickly. 

Tina approaches you and Steve within a few steps, but she keeps her distance from where you both stand. “What do we have here?” Tina says, crossing her arms over her chest. A drop of beer sloshes over the rim of the cup. “Did I really just hear you tell Carver that you two are a couple; that y/n is your girlfriend?” 

Steve didn’t say anything, and you offer a thin-lipped smile. 

“Why didn’t you tell me yesterday that you two were dating?” Tina asks, as you watch her jaw clench. Steve shrugs, “you left before I could say anything.” 

Tina’s eyes narrow, her eyes analyzing you and Steve intensely. “How long have you been together?” 

At the same time, you say, “two months” and Steve says, “three months.” You both glance at each other. “Two and a half months, to be precise.” You say, offering another small smile. 

Tina hums, continuing to investigate you and Steve. Beside you, Steve shifts uncomfortable, feeling yours and his charade start to crack. “Babe, do you want something to drink? Let’s go see what they have.” Steve says, glancing down at you. His arm drops from around your shoulder to your hand, letting his fingers interlace with yours. You feel your palms begin to moisten. You nod, letting Steve guide you away from Tina. 

“Holy shit, Tina’s really pissed.” Steve says to you once your away from his ex. Steve weaves through the crowd, tugging you along with him. “Did you see her face when she saw us talking to Jason? I wish somebody had got a picture of her so I could frame it.” 

Steve rambles and you hum trying to fill your half of the conversation. You, however, are too caught up in your thoughts, feeling the eyes of the party guests boring into your skin. All around you people turn to look over their shoulder, noticing how Steve guides you through the crowd lovingly, or the way his fingers caresses your back as he shepherds you around the party. When you got to the drink table, people watch as curious onlookers as Steve pours you a drink, swiping a piece of your hair that had fallen in your face. To the outside world, you’re sure it all looks so natural, so real. 

You’re sure Steve notices it too. “Let’s sit,” Steve says, bending down to whisper to you. Again, he guides you through the party, steering you to the open seat on one of the couches. Steve sits down promptly, beside another couple that are in their own world, lips only millimeters from each other. You stand awkwardly at the end of the couch, feeling people watch you closely; there’s no place for you to sit. 

“Sit on my lap,” Steve says through closed teeth, noticing your lack of fluidity. You hesitate, not knowing you feel about putting your bottom so close to Steve’s groin. You push out your uncomfortableness and gently, and gracefully, sit on Steve’s lap. 

You face in one direction, maintaining a perfect view of the lip-locking couple, and you lean against Steve and the end of the couch. “This is weird,” you mutter, feeling your tenseness. 

“Act natural,” Steve says, placing an arm around your waist. His fingertips grip your hip. 

You loop an arm around his neck. “There’s nothing natural about this,” you say. From any angle, you know you look stiff and uncomfortable – certainly not like a girlfriend of ‘two and a half months.’

“Y/n, please?” Steve pleads, leaning back in the cushions of the couch, furthering pushing your bodies together. You sigh, mimicking all the other couples around the party. You nestle into Steve’s arms, remembering how you’d do anything for this girl-crazy best friend of yours. 

Steve lets his hands wander down your thigh, the tips of his fingers tickling your bare skin. You feel your cheeks and neck flush with heat, the foreign feeling igniting something within you. You had never been touched by a boy before. 

Again, your mind flashes back to the millions of scenes in movies that you’ve watched before where boyfriends and girlfriend interact with each other. You know they kiss, though you can’t bring yourself to kiss Steve, they hug and fondle each other. Physical touch seems to be the love language of choice in the movies you’ve seen. 

In the corner of the living room, you see Tina standing with one of her friends, you’ve forgotten her same – Sophia or Sydney or something like that, looking in yours and Steve’s direction. You realize it’s game time. 

With utmost confidence, you let your fingers wander into Steve’s luscious hair, your fingers interlacing between his brown locks. Steve looks in your direction, an eyebrow raised. “Tina’s looking,” you say, turning your nonchalant gaze into a gaze of affection. Your fingers comb Steve’s hair and you feel how soft and silky it is. You let your thumb brush across his temple, letting the tips of your fingers trace his cheekbones and then jawline. You don’t think about what you’re doing, it’s as if your fingers are in autopilot.  

Without moving, Steve keeps his big brown eyes trained on you, his fingers gripping your thigh. You assume he’s playing his part nicely, making it seem as if this is what you and he do every night – caress each other’s skin and gaze into each other’s eyes, but little do you know, Steve’s mind is blank, his body in a trance under your touch. 

Your fingers pause where they get to Steve’s lips, the pad of your thumb itches to brush across his plump bottom lip – you’ve always admired Steve’s lips, but you stop yourself; that’s just a bridge too far. 

You lean back at last, looking back out at the rest of the party, away from Steve’s face. Steve exhales, learning he had been holding his breath the entire time. Steve realizes it’s his turn to play the game; as you lean against him, his arm unlatches from around you to allow his hand to travel freely to your neckline where he sweeps your hair away from neck. Leaning forward, Steve places a small kiss on your shoulder blade where his varsity jacket had slipped off your shoulders. 

You glance back at Steve, a smile lingering on your lips. “This is crazy, Steve.” 

“I know but it’s kind of fun; making Tina mad, I mean.” Steve says, his eyes flickering to where Tina stands with her friend. 

You aren’t sure if you agree but you know you’re tired of thinking about your every move, knowing a crowd is watching you perform. “Can we leave yet?” you ask, expressing displeasure across your face. 

Steve bounces his knees, making your jolt on his lap. Your hair falls back into place, covering the burning spot where Steve had just kissed. “Pretend to be having a good time, just for a little longer.” 

You sigh, leaning back into Steve’s chest. You smell his cologne that clings to his clothes. You wish you could be in Steve’s room, laying out on his plush bed, his cassette player on and listening to him complain about girls or his coworker Robin. 

You’re almost in the fetal position on Steve’s lap, his arms wrapped around your body tightly. Steve dips down to your ear, “Pretend I’m saying something funny and laugh.” 

You put your week of theater summer camp that your mom sent you to when you were eight to good use and laugh softly, as feminine as possible. You glance up at him from your position. “You owe me big time, Steve Harrington.”

This time Steve laughs, but it’s genuine and not fake at all. 

Eventually the party begins to die down and you convince Steve to take you home. For the last hour, you and Steve worked together to make this relationship believable, whispering into each other’s ears and letting Steve’s hand slide up and down your thigh. By the end of the night, your head aches. 

“You were amazing,” Steve says, “You know, you should consider becoming an actress.” Steve puts his arm around your waist, pulling you into his side, as you walk out of the party. 

“No, it’s just what I do for my best friend. I meant it when I said you owe me.” 

Steve laughs, taking his sunglasses off. He swings them in a loop, by holding one of the arms of the glasses, before he places them on top of your head. You pull them down over your eyes. “How can I repay you, Miss Harrington?” 

You scoff at the new nickname. “Pretty in Pink is at the theaters; you, me, bucket of popcorn, this weekend.” 

Steve groans – he isn’t a fan of Molly Ringwald. “Fine,” Steve says. 

You smile satisfied. You reach Steve car that’s parked right in front of the sidewalk. As Steve opens the passenger door, someone yelling his name causes you both to turn around. It’s Tina. 

“Steve!” Tina yells across the Carver’s lawn. Beside you, Steve tenses. Jogging, Tina approaches you quickly. 

“What’s up Tina?” Steve says. 

Tina’s slightly out of breath, as she begins to speak. “This weekend Chrissy and I, our boys, and some friends were planning on going to Chrissy’s family cabin – She and I were talking, and we think you and y/n should join us – since you’re a couple and all.” 

Steve shakes his head. “We have plans this weekend, we’re going to the movies.”

Tina rolls her eyes. “Hawkins theater will still be in town when we all get back, you can go next weekend. Really, Steve, I insist – we should be able to hang out around each other without it being weird or awkward.” 

Steve sighs, glancing at you. You glance back at him, an unspoken agreeance unfolding between you. You have to keep the charade going for a few more days. “Okay,” Steve says, turning his glance to Tina and taking your hand into his. “We can’t wait.” 

Tina clasps her hands, her eyes sending daggers your way. You have no idea what you’re in for. “Can’t wait,” you mumble, squeezing Steve’s hand as hard as you can.

[smartkookiee]

Wounds We Never Show // Ch.2 - jjk.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・ ❥pairing: Jungkook x Reader (she/they, afab) ❥genre/rating: 18 +explicit content, enemies to lovers, enemies to friends to lovers, enemies with benefits, these two really do hate each other ❥chapter warnings/tags: SMUUUTTT (mdni), protected sex (stay safe kids), dry humping, cum eating??, fingering, so much kissing, doggy, really confused about their feelings fr, they still hate each other, yay Melanie and Namjoons wedding hehe, drinking, swearing, Jungkook continuing to be a little shit ❥word-count: 13.9k (I'm so sorry its another monster) ❥Series Masterlist Previous Chapter ||❥|| Next chapter fic is cross posted to ao3 send an ask or comment on post to be added to the taglist! .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・

“So… is that a yes?”

“I-…” Your mouth was moving before your mind could, “Okay.”

Jungkook blinked, staring at you like he wasn’t sure if you had actually said “okay” or if he’d just imagined it. He looked completely caught off guard. Honestly, you couldn’t blame him. You were pretty shocked yourself.

The word still hung between you both, heavy with the weight of the sheer stupidity of what you’d just agreed to. You half-expected him to start laughing, for you to snap out of whatever spell had come over you and tell him to go to hell.

But no one moved. Neither of you even took a breath.

Jungkook’s eyebrows shot up, surprise etched across his face. Clearly, he’d expected you to kick his ass, maybe curse him out, not... this.

It felt bizarre. The longer you sat with the idea, though, the more it made a twisted kind of sense. Maybe it was because you’d already agreed to this ridiculous plan in your head before your mouth even caught up. Because, as much as you hated to admit it, this was probably going to work better than the endless cycle of arguments. But also, by agreeing to this, you were, by extension, agreeing with Taehyung’s dumb, immature logic.     

So in this moment—yes—you were dumb.

You thought back to your last hookup. It had been... disappointing, to say the least. You wanted something better. Needed it, actually. But this? Jungkook? Not what you had in mind, exactly.

“Okay,” Jungkook finally broke the silence, rubbing the back of his neck as if he couldn’t believe you’d gone along with his idiotic suggestion. He was clearly thinking through how the hell he’d come to agree with Taehyung’s logic himself.

He’d spent years watching Taehyung bury his problems in a series of meaningless hookups, laughing it off as Taehyung’s way of handling things. But deep down, Jungkook envied it. Taehyung took life so casually, like nothing really mattered. Jungkook never had that luxury. Not in the last few years, at least.

“So, uh... do we, like, hold hands or something?” you asked, unable to stop the awkwardness from bubbling up. Because really, what else could you say? You couldn’t even figure out how to broach the subject of touching each other, let alone jumping straight to that.

It was like the two of you had never spoken before, it was strange. 

“Seriously? Hold hands? What are we four?” Jungkook teased trying to cut the tension and you groaned. 

“I don’t know! This is uncharted territory!” You move away from the building wall and start pacing back and forth, Jungkook just watching you. 

You just stayed like this for a moment going back and forth. Maybe being a little like Taehyung is what he needed. This just wasn’t the way he expected it to end up, and least of all with you. 

Jungkook wasn’t really the hook up type, let alone hook up at a wedding. Yet here you two were, playing out the most common wedding hookup cliche. The best man and the maid of honor.

You let out a long groan before you looked directly at him. 

“This is a one time thing.” You say quicker than you can think. You needed to stop thinking, just do.

“Okay.” He was sure in his tone.

“Fine.”

A beat, for the first time ever you two were in full agreement. Jungkook decided that it needed to happen now or never before the two of you thought to much about it. He walked away from you, going to the door back into the hotel. He didn’t look back until he realized that you weren’t following.

“Well, are you coming?” He nodded his head in the direction inside the door. 

“Oh we are doing this now?”

Then your feet were moving. Without a word, he held the door open for you and followed you inside. Without some protest, Jungkook grabbed onto your wrist, almost like he wanted some contact with you. Jungkook pulling the two of you into the nearest elevator, pressing a button to what you assumed was his floor. 

And then the doors closed.

You both stood in silence for a moment, standing side by side. Jungkook then stood in front of you, the hand that was on your wrist made its way up your arm to your face. 

“What are you doing?” You pulled back for a moment and your voice was a little shaky, flinching away from him. Old habits die hard.

Jungkook would never admit this to you but he was nervous. Maybe more nervous than you but he would bury that down for now.

“Oh you know, I was going to kiss you.” The words felt gross coming out of his mouth. Kissing you after all is the last thing he ever thought he would do.

“Oh.” You realized yeah, you probably should kiss. Maybe a good place to start. You were deep in thought before you realized how close you and Jungkook were. Bodies almost pressed against each other. “Yeah go ahead.” 

The only sound was the hum of the elevator filling the space. It felt so silent as you looked between Jungkook's eyes. For a moment he hesitated but then decided to just go for it. Kissing you softly at first. He tasted like cigarettes, and it was a little overwhelming. Not as gross as you thought though. His hands had now found a place on your waste and pressed your whole body into his. Without you really thinking about it one of your arms had wrapped around his neck and the other was wrapped in his hair. 

The two of you begging silently for another kiss.

It was the only thing you two did on the short ride, just kissed, dipping your toes into the shallow end of your possible mistake. The elevator rang, causing both of you to split apart as fast as you could. The feeling of your mouth weighing on Jungkook's mind.

 A memory from college came to the front of your mind. 

“What? I’m a pretty good kisser I’ll have you know. I have references.” 

You don’t know why you remembered it now, all you could think was that: he wasn’t lying about that.

You both peered around the corners of the hallway, a silent understanding passing between you as you checked to make sure no one familiar was nearby. The hallway was unnervingly quiet, the soft thud of your heart echoing in your ears as Jungkook’s hand brushed against yours. He fumbled for his key, hands steady despite the electricity buzzing in the air. The lock clicked, and he hastily opened the door, pushing it open and gesturing for you to step inside.

The room was surprisingly tidy. Too tidy, like he’d barely even been in here.

“Huh. It’s smaller than mine,” you muttered, unable to stop yourself, that competitive streak rearing its head. It was a childish comment, but you were already grasping for control in the situation—anything to anchor yourself.

Jungkook ignored and he grabbed your wrist and spun you around, his lips meeting yours again. The taste of cigarettes filled your mouth, flooding your senses. His fingers pressed into your waist, as if he was trying to push the world away and keep you both in this moment. You kissed him back fiercely, but something was building in your chest—a knot of panic twisting tighter and tighter.

You broke away first, breathing hard, pressing your hands against his chest to put space between you. “Woah, okay.”

He paused, looking at you, his chest heaving. “You okay?”

You shook your head, the room suddenly feeling too small, the walls too close. You raised your hands like you were warding off some invisible force. “God, this feels... weird. Is this not weird for you?”

Jungkook exhaled and leaned back, running a hand through his hair. “It’s weird,” he admitted, though his tone suggested he wasn’t entirely sure what made it weird—just that it was.

You paced in a tight circle, your fingers twitching. “I don’t know, I feel... confused. Like everything inside me is screaming that this is wrong, but I don’t know why. It’s like my head is split down the middle and I can’t—”

“Y/N—”

“And I can’t stand you,” you continued, voice rising, “but for some reason, I agreed to this. Like, maybe I’ve just got some kind of self-sabotaging streak? What is wrong with me?”

Jungkook moved closer, trying not to let you chatter annoy him. “Y/N.”

You met his gaze, finally stilling, but your heart was racing, chest tight with the weight of your own thoughts. His eyes were calm, though you could see the same uncertainty hiding behind them. He had already made up his mind, you could tell, but the awkwardness of it still clung to the space between you.

“Are you in, or are you out?”

The question hung in the air for a second longer than you liked. You blinked, your throat dry. “I was in. But now I don’t know. I can’t get past... being with you. You of all people.” Your fingers picked at the skin around your nails, searching for an answer you couldn’t find.

Jungkook stood there, thinking for a moment. “Then pretend I’m not me.”

“What?” You give him a confused look. 

“Maybe we just pretend like we don’t know each other. Like we just met. So I’m not Jungkook…  the guy I know you want to kill.” He teases and it actually lightens the mood a little. “I’m just… someone at a wedding, you’re also just someone at a wedding. I’m not me.” 

A small smile actually seems to creep on your face for a moment, you have to catch yourself. “You’re not you.” 

“I’m not me.” 

“And I’m not me?”

“Exactly. We’re just two strangers.” He stepped closer, and you felt the gravity between you shift again. “Does that make it easier?”

You stared at him for a moment, your heart hammering as the absurdity of the whole thing began to ease the pressure in your chest. Slowly, the tension began to melt into something else. Something that felt almost like... freedom.

“Okay.” You found yourself nodding. “You’re not you. And I’m not me.”

Jungkook smiled, taking that as confirmation, his fingers brushing your cheek again, this time softer. His touch sent a shiver down your spine, but this time it wasn’t panic. It was something hotter, more dangerous.

“See?” His voice was quiet, almost a whisper. “Just two strangers.”

He stepped forward, and before you could second-guess yourself, you closed the distance. You kissed him again, but this time it felt different—deeper, like the weight of everything that had been holding you back was gone. His hands found your waist, pulling you closer, and you let yourself be pulled, let yourself sink into the kiss, the moment. Just two people—no history, no hate—just... heat. 

You both stumble your way back to the bed, kicking off your shoes in the process. As you both just let yourselves live in the feeling rather than who it was with. Everything started to move faster and the intensity between the two of you got heavier. Jungkook detached himself from your lips onto the exposed skin on your neck. You found yourself leaning into it easily.Jungkook paused for a moment, his fingers tracing along the straps of the dress you wore. 

“Can I take this off?’ He says lowly into your ear. 

Both of your minds were quiet. Here it was, no going back after this. 

“Yes.” Your voice almost gets caught in your throat. 

He very slowly slips the straps off your shoulders. Your dress falling down the rest of the length of your body to the floor.  Jungkook takes a pause, he had hoped somewhere deep inside him that you wouldn’t look good under your dress, but of course you did. You still had your bra and underwear on but he knew you’d probably look great without those as well. How incredibly annoying he thought. 

“Listen I know I’m hot but you don’t have to stand there and stare.” You felt like you needed to move your hands to cover yourself. 

Jungkook rolled his eyes, “I wasn’t starring.”

“Yeah right.” Your hand found your way to his tie, beginning to undo it and pulling it off him. Jungkook following by undoing the buttons on his shirt.

“Eager are we?” He teases, it was too playful for what you were familiar with. Almost made you cringe but you pushed the feeling away.

“Says the one who took my dress off.” 

He pulls his shirt off once the buttons are undone. You wanted to maybe deny for a bit that he did in fact have a nice body and you kissed him again. It left you breathless so quickly, your head was spinning. With some quick movements you moved back onto the bed and Jungkook held himself above you. He kissed down your neck and then down your chest, his mouth was warm against you with every kiss. 

Oh god, you thought.

The suddenness of all of this though had gotten you soaked in your underwear and it was going to be embarrassing for him to see. As he inches closer you close your legs rather quickly.  Only this one time, Jungkook was going to have this effect on you. 

“Spread your legs for me, darling.” He looked up to you and he placed both of his hands on your knees trying to pry them open, you denying him the satisfaction. 

“No.” You were very clearly teasing him and sat up, which allowed you to see the full sight of him, shirtless, kneeling in front of you. Never thought this would be something you would ever see. “And darling? What are we married now?” 

“That would be my nightmare.” He shivers at the thought. 

“Yeah I’ll be dead before I ever marry you.”

“Well we agree on something at least.”

His hand was running up and down the inside of your thigh, he leaned up to meet your eyeline again. Catching you in a quick kiss before his hand grazed against the outside of your underwear. You held in the gasp that wanted to release from you.

“Be good and let me eat you out.” He brings his face in close by your ears and leaves a small kiss behind.  

“Ask nicely and I just might.”

He took the opportunity to stand up straight, towering over you a little. Like he was getting the same sight of you below him that you had just seen of him. He tilted your chin up with his thumb and index finger, to look into his eyes. 

“Please.” He said so quietly and kindly.  A tone he had never taken with you.

“Fine.” You try to say in a displeasing tone, but you couldn’t help but want it. 

He lowers himself back to his knees and opens your legs up again and pulls your underwear down your legs rather quickly. You laid back on your back again.

“For someone who hates me so much, you sure are wet for me.” He laughed a little and it sent a ripple of anger. You covered your face with both of your arms.

“Fuck off.” 

“Fuck you.” He replies and his hands slowly slide up your thighs. Almost agonizingly slow. 

He reached your pussy which was eager to feel his touch and he swirled his fingers around your clit a few times. You really were wet, his fingers took no time to play with you. Applying some pressure, he uses his other hand to play around with one finger at your entrance. You have been trying not to elicit any sounds because you didn’t want to see that stupid smirk on his face. Your breath was heavy in your chest though. He then instead inserted two of his fingers into your dripping pussy. You let out a low hum, you wanted a little more. 

“There you are. Was worried you had lost your voice.” 

He switched from using both hands to just one, with his two fingers moving in and out of you. His thumb still circling your clit. He had laid himself down on the bed next to you now, he was playing with a piece of your hair, and looking at you with an amusing smile. 

Before you were able to say anything, he pushed his fingers into you deeper and he was touching a spot that could easily make you come. It forced a moan out of your mouth. Which seemed to surprise the both of you. 

“You really needed it bad huh?” He laughed a little at your little noises and faces you were making. 

He was right. 

You turn your head to the side so you don’t have to face him but he stays with you. He had to take his fingers out of you, and adjust his arm but he slipped his fingers right back inside you but this time adding another one. You moan softly into the sheets. He uses his other hand to move some hair away from your face and he leaves little bites into your shoulder. 

“Three fingers already? You must be desperate for it,” he pumps his fingers in and out of you faster. Making that little curling motion that is driving you crazy. Your breathing was quick. “Can I make you cum with just my fingers?” 

“God shut up already.” You groan, but mostly at the feeling. He had you in the palm of his hand so easily.

“I’m good.” He hums, looking down at his fingers which were covered in your arousal. It made his cock twitch, he wanted to replace his fingers and fuck you but there was something satisfying seeing you all quiet and annoyed just with his fingers. “Annoying you seems to turn me on.”

“Stop.” You gasp but Jungkook picked up the pace of his fingers, and a soft moan left you. You mentally cursing yourself out. “You always this chatty during sex? Feel bad for any girls prior to me.”

Jungkook shook his head, “Nah, I usually have my tongue inside them by now.”

“You sure are confident in your skills.” Acting as if what he said didn’t send a wave of arousal through you. 

Jungkook did a few harder thrusts of his fingers and you moan and your eyes fall shut. 

“Just say please, and that can be you too.” He whispers and he kisses your skin. 

“I’m never begging you for anything.” 

“Nights still young.”

He had gotten a good rhythm with his fingers now. Touching you in just the right way. You were trying to fight the high off as best you could. Jungkook could tell you were trying to fight it but he wanted to get you off. Would be funny in a way that he could make you cum so fast even though you despise him. He begins to suck on your neck, just in a nice little spot and makes goosebumps rise all over your body. 

“You really seem to want to get me off? Didn’t think you’d be so considerate considering how selfish you are during the daytime.” There was that competitive streak again, that same part of your that is protesting this whole thing. 

“I may not like you, doesn’t mean I don’t want you to cum.”

Jungkook then lowers himself down to press his tongue flat against your clit. Your eyes flutter closed at the feeling. He keeps working his fingers in and out of you. He only sucks on your clit one more time because he wanted just his fingers to do the work here. He brings his other hand down to rub your clit as his other hand fucks you. You were letting small moans fall from you. It turning him on more than he wanted to admit.

It doesn’t take much longer but a few more pumps of his fingers he gets your cumming onto them. You grinding on his fingers. You come down quickly and your face was completely red. Jungkook just smiling down to you. Jungkook then removes his fingers from you with a small protest from you. Licking all of your arousal off them. 

“That’s unfortunate, you taste really good.” He did sound a little disappointed at the discovery. 

“You’re such a dick.”

“Relax, I’m not even done.” Jungkook let out and exasperated sigh, he wanted you to just trust the process but he should have guessed you give him a hard time.

“Addicted yet?”

“Not even slightly.”

You wanted to take back control since he had his moment of slight dominance over you. You pull Jungkook back onto the bed turn yourself around and swing your legs over his waist and pin him down on the bed. Jungkook knew it was painfully obvious how hard he was in his trousers and you were sitting right on top of it. You couldn’t help the pressure made your mouth drop open a little. You wanted to feel his dick stretch you out. Not just yet though. 

You run your hands over his chest slowly, and you begin to grind yourself into his crotch. You were a skittle swollen and sensitive but it seems to drive him a little crazy. His eyes had fluttered closed, enjoying the feeling of the pressure on his cock. You lean down close to his ear.

“Looks like I’m not the only one that seems to need it badly.” You grind into his dick a little more forcefully. Jungkook moans a little bit and his hands have found the way to your ass, trying to guide you but you don’t let him take control of the pace. You keep your hip movements slow and taunting.

“Shit.” He whispers, followed by a soft moan. 

“Think I could make you cum just by grinding on you? No chance to even slip yourself inside of me?” You're pushing him a little. You would not let this night go without getting fucked but making him cum just like this also sounded hot. Cum in his pants and then leave him here.

“Not a chance.” He says almost like he could hear your thoughts. “I’m fucking you tonight.”

He sits up, keeping you pressed into him. His hand found its way into your hair and pulled your head back. Keeping his other hand on your ass. Again trying to take the control back from you but you keep your hips still. 

Jungkook runs his mouth over the side of your neck again, letting his hot breath fan over you. Then finding that same spot earlier that made you twitch. Attaching his mouth there and keeping his one hand tangled in your hair. You hum softly, and Jungkook tries to use his hand to encourage your hips to move. You refuse. 

“Say please and I just might move.” You laugh under your breath. Jungkook squeezes your hip, he was getting really desperate though, he needed the friction for some relief. 

“So annoying.” He mumbles against your skin and bites you lightly, “Please.”

Thank god, because you needed the friction too. You grind your hips down into him and he moans but this wasn’t enough. You were making a mess on the top of his pants for sure but you didn’t care, it would be his problem tomorrow. 

Jungkook leaned away from you. Resting on one of him arms and just watched you move for a moment, it felt like he actually was in some sort of twisted dream. Because you of all people, were here dry humping him in his hotel room, and you both were really liking it. Your face was all twisted up and breathing heavily as you chased your high. Jungkook needed this to end though. 

“Okay.” You stop for a moment and sigh, your legs were getting a little tired from the position. “I need… huh.” You mumble under your breath. Jungkook gave you a confused look.

“What was that?.” Jungkook smirks and he grinds his hips up into you. You moan a little but hit his chest to protest the movement.

“Please fuck me.” Your plea comes out more pathetic than you wanted. You wanted him to pound into you though. 

“I thought you weren’t going to beg me for anything?” 

“I’m not saying it again.” 

Jungkook takes no pause and he lifts you off of him, and he kisses you so desperately before placing you back on the bed. He wastes zero time in getting off his pants and boxers. His dick springs free and you were upset but also glad to see it was a good size. Of course he’d have a nice dick, how fucking annoying. 

You couldn’t help but think about sucking him off though. 

Watching him unfold for you. It’d be nice. Unfortunately it was never going to happen. You just needed a good fuck and then you can go back to absolutely hating each other. He’s still vile… Just for this moment though, he is incredibly desirable. 

“You got a bit of drool coming out of your mouth.” He teases you. You look away and scoff. Jungkook grabs something from his bag which proves to be a condom, quickly unpackaging it and rolling it onto his dick.

“You just had condoms at the ready?” You ask. 

“I didn’t, Taehyung gave me some. ‘Just in case’, his words not mine.” Jungkook leans two hands on each side of the bed next to you. “I wasn’t planning on sleeping with anyone.” 

“Find that hard to believe.”

He gave you a confused expression. 

“How so?”

“Isn’t this your kind of guys stomping ground? Aren’t weddings like prime hookup locations. Taehyung always seems to have some wedding hookup story.” You sit up, coming closer to Jungkook’s face. 

“Tell me what ‘my type of guy’ is then?” He was getting annoyed, and it honestly made you happy. 

“Assholes. Haven’t said it to you in the last twenty minutes so you probably forgot what you were.” You tilt your head in innocence. You were poking the bear, but you may be starting to regret it because you might be cutting your fuck short.

“Well, you just let this asshole finger you.” He tilts his head in the same direction as you, then using one of his hands to move some hair off your shoulder. 

“A minor lapse in judgment, I’m sure.” You place a hand on the back of his neck, you needed him close again. Due to your own inability to not fight with Jungkook, you were cooling off. 

Jungkook leans close and kisses you again, head still spinning. You called him and asshole and he was willingly kissing you now. So strange but it was working for the both of you. One of his hands goes down to his cock and strokes himself slowly but then moves on top of you more. He then presses his tip down onto your clit and you break your kiss to gasp.  

“Then let me fuck you and we can be done with it.”

He was staring at you so intensely, he needed you. You needed to give up this fight, you needed him too. You nod and he pulls himself back for a second. You don’t think you can face him during this, you decide to flip yourself over instead. You almost preferred it in this position anyways.

“Awe what?” You heard him laugh under his breath and you scoff. “Think you might fall in love with me if you look at me the whole time?”

“Yeah right. I’m here for one thing only and I can only hope you can actually deliver.” You sigh, Jungkook had reached over to the top of the bed for a pillow. He lifted your hips which surprised you and shifted the pillow underneath your hips. 

Maybe he did know what he was doing. 

He begins to climb on top of you, he presses a bunch of kissing up your back and up to your neck, sucking on a spot there. Your body is completely flooded with heat. He breaks away from you, one of his hands on his dick, stroking it a couple of times. 

“Still time to back out now Jeon.” You say, tilting your head to the side to look back to him. 

“Nah, I need to feel you cum around me.” He was completely serious. 

He pressed the tip of his dick to your entrance, playing with you as he swirls it around and he just watches your reaction. He could see it’s driving you nuts. How badly you want him to sink his dick deep inside of you. You bite your lip to fight back the moans he could be eliciting from you. 

“Moan for me baby. You know you want too.”

“And let you have the satisfaction? No.”

“What a brat.” his tone was lower. 

You both were thinking the same thing. You were both a little hesitant because this was it. It would be real, you would have fucked each other after this. 

Jungkook presses the tip of his dick into you and it elicits a small noise from you. He pushes his dick in more, slowly and you could feel every tiny movement. He slowly stretches you out so you can take the full length. His breath was rather ragged, and his eyes were shut. He didn’t completely bottom out yet but he pulls himself out and then pushes himself in again. You groan at the movement. You hated how much he was driving you crazy and how desperately you were wanting him to pound into you. 

“Jungkook please.” You needed it.

“Oh yeah?” he opens his eyes. “What do you need?”

“Enough teasing. Just fuck me.” You grip onto the sheets below you, you needed it so bad and your breath was all ragged and desperate. 

Jungkook observes you for a moment, you had laid your head to the side so he could examine your expression. You were desperate. He brought his hands up on top of yours gripping onto them. He then completely bottoms out inside you, which forces a moan out of you. It’s soft but it’s like music to Jungkook’s ears. 

“I win.” he says with a chuckle. 

He doesn’t give you much time to react before he pulls himself all they way out and shoves his dick all the way back in again. Wanting to feel every inch of your pussy around him. Each thrust forces a small moan out of you. You want to move your arms but Jungkook kept you in place. He is rocking you back and forth with each thrust and pounding all the way inside you. 

The sound of his thrust and his pelvis slapping against your skin is so lewd. Its driving you crazy. Both of your moans fill the room. He bites down onto your shoulder and you swear it felt electric. 

“Jesus your fucking wet.” He is so out of breath. He can’t get enough. 

You can’t either. 

“Oh my god.” You moan, you feel the swell of your climax rising again. Jungkook has been stroking a part of your pussy with his dick and it’s driving you insane. You have never cum from penetration sex this quickly before.  

He slowed for a second. Moving his hand between your pussy and the pillow. Rubbing your clit. He was going to make you cum again, he was messing with you earlier but he didnt want you to feel good. You press your forehead deep into the mattress. Just letting whatever sound was in you out. You were almost running away from his touch and you push backwards just forced your ass into his pelvis. Pushing his dick deeper. 

 Double edged sword here, nowhere for you to escape. He did a few slower thrusts while he did this, keeping a certain rhythm. Before you are able to even think, your climax rolls over you again and you’re squeezing Jungkook's dick and he takes this moment to go a little faster with his thrusts while you ride it out on him.  

“Fuck.” you let a long dragged out moan, as Jungkook rides you through your high. 

“That’s right baby use me.” His hot breath fans over your skin. “I-I’m also close.”

You continue to hang onto his hand as he rocks into you. Filling you up completely. Never stopping for a second as you come off your climax. The stimulation felt crazy, you almost didn’t want to stop. Consider asking him to eat you out and make you come all over again. Then Jungkook gets a little sloppier in his thrusts as he’s close to his climax. 

“Coming, coming.” His breath catches in his throat as you feel him fill up the condom. 

He thrust a few more times but slows to a stop. Both of your breathing in sync. He rests his head on your back. You both just stay there for a minute. His cock still buried in you. You both relish what just happened. It felt really good.. Really really good… but oh my god. 

You just fucked Jungkook.

How, bizarre.

Jungkook kissed your shoulder softly before pulling away and getting out of bed. He stood too quickly, feeling a little dizzy, but more from the weight of what had just happened. You stifled a small whine at the loss of contact, quickly covering your mouth. He chuckled through his heavy breaths, but you couldn’t look at him—your face was already burning with embarrassment. 

What the hell did I just do?

You didn’t want to think about it, but you couldn’t help yourself. The guy you hated more than anyone was just in bed with you. His hands, his mouth, his entire presence—everything felt so good, too good. You hated him, didn’t you? This shouldn’t have happened. Yet, the feeling of him still lingered on your skin, and worse, a part of you already missed it.

Reality hit harder the moment you sat up. How long had the two of you been gone? You turned over, and Jungkook was already reaching out a hand to help you up. We can’t stay here. We need to get back. He held your dress in his other hand.  

“Thank you. We need to get back.” You say at almost a whisper as you begin to redress  yourself. 

You rushed into the bathroom, flicking on the light. Seeing yourself in the mirror made everything feel even more real. Your hair was a mess, and you looked… well, you looked like you’d just been thoroughly fucked. You wiped at your neck where he’d left a tiny mark, hidden easily enough, but tomorrow? You were going to have to get creative. 

Jungkook, meanwhile, was dressing in the other room, moving on autopilot. He stared at his ruined slacks, feeling a strange satisfaction. Damn, what did we just do? He hadn’t expected any of this, not with you. You were the last person he ever thought he'd sleep with, but there you were, both standing at the edge of something that shouldn’t have happened.

I don’t regret it, though. Should I? He shook his head. It can’t happen again.

When you came back out, dressed, Jungkook saw the tension written all over your face, mirroring his own. It was thick between you, the weight of what just happened hanging in the air. He cleared his throat, glancing at his phone.

He cleared his throat. “Yeah we should hurry.” He had checked the time on his phone, it was well past time that the two of you needed to be back.

The air felt tense between the two of you. What you both just did felt amazing but you also fucking despise this guy. You pretty sure that hate didn’t go away. Knowing what he can do in bed though certainly makes that feeling all the more confusing. 

I guess you just go back to hating the guy. He would go back to hating you.

“I’m going to go down first.” You said and you don’t look at him. 

He hums in agreement. Better to not show up together, not that you believe anyone would be at all suspicious of what you two had done.

“This is never happening again.” You say back, a seriousness behind your voice. 

It shouldn’t happen again. You're reeling a little but from the touch of Jungkook’s skin, how it made you feel so warm. So inviting, even though he makes you burn with a fiery rage. 

Your head was completely cloudy, and your mouth with the left over taste of a cigarette. 

Downstairs, you entered the rehearsal as if nothing had happened. The walk had been a blur, your mind still buzzing from the touch of his skin, the way he made you feel even though you despised him. Your heart was still pounding, but you pushed it all aside when Melanie spotted you.

“Thank God, everything’s a mess. Where have you been?” she asked, concern mixed with curiosity.

You pulled yourself together, forcing a smile. “Sorry, Jungkook and I were… talking. I think we’re good now.”

“Talking?” She raised an eyebrow, clearly suspicious. “You guys actually talked?”

“Yeah, sort of,” you replied, keeping it casual. “No more fighting this weekend.”

After some time Jungkook also rejoined the party. You spent the entire party not speaking and not even looking at each other. Nothing else happened, like it never happened. A secret the two of you could bury way deep down. Except it kept playing over in your mind into the next morning. You were completely distracted getting dressed and doing hair and makeup.

Ash definitely took notice.

"Hey, where did you disappear to last night?" Ash tapped your shoulder, snapping you out of your thoughts.

You blinked a few times, trying to refocus. Where’s my head right now? Well, you knew exactly where. You were still reeling from last night, mentally replaying every fight with Jungkook, trying to figure out how the two of you ended up… here.

“Oh.” You forced a casual tone, definitely not because you had slept with the person you hated most. “Jungkook and I got into a fight.”

“Shocker.” Ash rolled her eyes, not even mildly surprised.

“It was bad this time. Namjoon stepped in, got mad, so we took it outside...” You trailed off, hoping that would be enough to dodge further questions.

She raised a hand, halting you. “If you’re about to tell me you punched him and I missed it, I’m going to be pissed.”

You laughed. “I didn’t punch him. Wanted to, though.”

“So, what happened?” She raised an eyebrow, her curiosity not dropping.

Nothing I’m admitting out loud.

“We came to a truce... of sorts.” You gulped.

“I don’t get why he’s always up your ass.” Ash finally seemed to let it go. “What was he picking a fight about this time?”

“He just wanted to piss me off, I guess.”

At that moment, Melanie stepped out of the dressing room, her hair, makeup, and dress all done. She looked beautiful. Her mom and sister fussed over minor details, but she was radiant, if a little nervous. Hopefully, she’d relax more once we started pictures.

Apparently, she’d had a minor meltdown about dinner last night because the caterers were short on some items, which shifted the schedule. She seemed to have forgotten about it this morning, though. You’d gone straight to the reception area to help smooth things over.

For all the times Melanie had helped you, it was a small favor. Hopefully, today would go smoothly.

“You look so beautiful,” you say, feeling tears prick at the corners of your eyes.

“No crying!” Melanie waves you off frantically. “The makeup cannot get messed up!”

She fans her face like crazy, trying to hold it together. You glance over at Ash, who’s already wiping away a tear.

“Ash!” You bump her gently.

“I can’t help it,” she mutters, dabbing under her eyes with her fingers.

“Melanie, we need to get down to the fountain for the reveal and photos,” the wedding planner calls out as she steps into the room. You glance at your phone and realize time’s running out—you need to get out of the hotel room now.

“I know, I know.” Melanie smooths out her dress, her mom hovering nearby trying to fuss with her hair, but Melanie waves her away.

Grabbing your bouquets, you start ushering everyone out the door. It’s a bit chaotic navigating through the hotel, with guests stopping every few steps to offer their congratulations. It’s sweet, but you’ve got a time limit, and you and Ash do your best to shield Melanie from well-wishers, playing defense as you maneuver outside.

Eventually, you make it to the courtyard. The photographer, who had been by earlier to get pictures of the hair and makeup process was here again, had gone ahead to get some shots of Namjoon before the big reveal.

“He’s going to bawl like a baby,” you say with a smile, and Melanie laughs in agreement.

“He is so going to cry.”

“You are too, though. I expect full waterworks.” You nudge her playfully.

“I’ve got tissues at the ready,” Ash announces, pulling out a small packet of tissues stashed between her boobs.

“No one wants your boob tissues!” you protest, cringing a little.

“Says you!” Ash pouts, stuffing the tissues back into her bra defiantly.

You all come to a halt as the photographer’s voice carries around the corner. Deciding to check if everything’s set, you sneak ahead and peek around the wall leading to the fountain. Namjoon stands facing the water, the photographer taking a few last shots of him.

You run back to Melanie and whisper, “We’re ready.”

She takes a deep breath before stepping forward. You, Ash, and the others stay back to watch the exchange.

The photographer takes a few more photos of Melanie as she approaches Namjoon from behind. Finally, the photographer waves her forward to tap him on the shoulder. He turns slowly, his eyes still closed.

You hear Melanie giggle softly as she pats him again to get him to open his eyes. The second he does, Namjoon doesn’t hesitate—he pulls her into his arms and lifts her off the ground, spinning her around like she’s the most precious thing in the world.

He sets her down gently, taking a moment just to look at her. You can’t hear what he says, but the words clearly make Melanie smile before they kiss. It’s such a tender moment that you feel your own eyes start to well up.

The photographer waves you all over, and you, Ash, Serena, and her mom step out from behind the wall, walking toward the fountain. As you get closer, it’s clear—Namjoon and Melanie are both absolute blubbering messes, completely lost in the moment. More touching than you’d imagined.

“Oh no,” you laugh and smile fondly at the both of them, “Not the both of you.”

Namjoon is wiping his eyes, and Melanie is also wiping his face while she wipes her own. 

“I can’t stop.” He says so innocently. 

“Shit I can’t stop either.” Melanie is trying to fan herself. 

Ash comes to the rescue, with now an unpacked tissue. You laugh to yourself a little. 

“Never thought I would be so happy to see a boob tissue.” Melanie laughs and accepts the tissue. 

“A what?” Namjoon asks and looks between you. 

“Don’t worry about it.” You pat him on the shoulder. 

They both try to pull themselves together, with joyful sniffles. Namjoon didn’t let go of her for a second. His eyes are filled with nothing but her. It makes your heart scream.

“Okay, now we can get pictures with everyone.” The photographer yells a little louder. The fountain as a little loud for everyone to hear. You didn’t seem to notice she was actually trying to call over the groomsmen who were waiting a ways away. 

“Hey guys!” Namjoon calls and does that cool like two finger in your mouth whistle thing. 

You and Ash both try to mimic Namjoon and fail miserably. Just getting spit on your hands. 

The groomsmen usher their way over and are ready and waiting for instructions. 

“Okay, we will start getting a picture of everyone lined up! Bride and groom in the middle and then the maid of honor and the best man.” 

Everyone lined up in order and Ash placed herself behind you. You get a couple of shots like this, some serious and some goofy. You couldn’t wait to see them later. 

“Okay let’s get a picture of just the groomsmen and the bridesmaids really quick.” 

She waves for Melanie and Namjoon to step away from the group really quick. You then come face to face with the scum of the earth himself. You had been avoiding acknowledging him up until this point. Jungkook just gives you the widest shit eating grin he can muster. You can’t help but have a look of disdain. His look is the one that says ‘we fucked last night’.

Fucking embarrassing. 

“Morning.” He says a little too pridefully.

“Stop looking at me like that.” You groan before standing immediately next to him, making sure you aren’t touching. 

“Play nice you two.” You hear Namjoon call off from the side, some of the other snicker knowing exactly who he’s addressing.

“I think we can take a picture, Namjoon.” You smile almost embarrassed, everyone else very audibly disagrees.

“Sure, we can.” Jungkook says, “At least I can.” 

You just shake off the comment. 

Once the group shot is finished, you waste no time putting distance between yourself and Jungkook, stepping away as quickly as possible. The other bridesmaids follow your lead, and the groomsmen do the same, splitting into their own groups. Namjoon and Melanie are ushered back for more couple shots, their laughter filling the air as the photographer clicks away.

“Jungkook can’t leave you alone for one day, huh?” Ash breaks the silence in your head.

“Seriously,” you sigh.

“He really does like provoking something out of you, doesn’t he?” she adds with a knowing grin.

“This is exactly what I’ve been saying!” You throw your arms up dramatically, earning a laugh from her.

You glance back at Namjoon and Melanie. They look absolutely radiant, like they’re in their own little world. Namjoon hasn’t taken his eyes off her the entire time.

“They look so happy, don’t they?” Ash comments, her gaze softening as she watches the couple.

You nod, a slight smile tugging at your lips. “Yeah, they really do.”

“Got your sights set on anyone for the evening?” Ash wiggles her eyebrows mischievously.

“That was random.” You give her a look. “And no, I’ll probably be going to bed early tonight. This wedding has been months of stress on the brain. I’ll be happy to turn in, thanks.”

“That’s exactly why you should stay up! You’ve helped Melanie plan this whole thing from the very beginning. You deserve to enjoy it too!” Ash grins widely, nudging you playfully.

You roll your eyes. “Seeing Melanie happy is all the reward I need from today. No random hook-up is going to top that.” and you know… you already had one.

“Ugh, you’re no fun.” She leans against you, feigning a whine.

“I don’t know,” you muse. “I’m just not interested unless it’s with someone who looks at me like how Namjoon looks at Melanie.” You gesture toward the couple, where Namjoon is still gazing at his bride-to-be like she’s the only person in the world.

Ash cocks her head. “How would you describe it?”

You pause, watching as Melanie stumbles near the fountain, nearly pulling Namjoon with her. For a second, your heart skips a beat, but they both catch themselves, bursting into laughter. The moment is so full of joy, so genuine, you can’t help but sigh.

“He looks at her like he can’t breathe without her. Like she’s the air that keeps him going. And it’s the same the other way around. They push each other to be better, to grow. And somehow, through that, they keep falling deeper in love.” Your voice grows soft, almost wistful. You want that too, you realize. But it feels out of reach—like something only other people get to have.

Ash is quiet for a moment before she nods. “I get it. You want someone to breathe for, too. Someone who makes you want to be better.”

She pinches your cheek playfully, making an exaggerated cooing sound, and you swat her hand away, laughing.

“Not just that,” you add thoughtfully. “I want someone who makes me feel like fire too.”

Ash raises an eyebrow, teasing. “You want someone to set you on fire? Kinky.”

You shove her with a grin. “You know what I mean. I want tenderness, but I also want passion. The kind that burns. Most people don’t really want the specific kind of passion I’m looking for.”

Ash considers this for a moment, and you both fall into a comfortable silence. It’s not something you talk about often—your idea of love. Mostly because it seems too ideal, too unattainable. You’ve placed it high on a shelf, a fantasy you’ve all but convinced yourself isn’t real.

“I think you’ll find that,” Ash hums after a while.

You shrug. “Yeah? Well, let me know when you find them.”

“Find who?”

Of course, the second you think the day might calm down, Jungkook appears behind you, his voice as obnoxious as ever.

“Speaking of fire extinguishers,” you mutter under your breath before turning to face him. “What do you want?” you ask, your tone dry.

“Just thought I’d let you know—you look nice,” he says, flashing you that infuriating smile again.

“Well, that’s—” you start, but before you can finish, he adds.

“Oh, not you. I was talking to Ash.”

You catch the smirk on his face and feel your cheeks flush. Of course. Why were you even surprised? He’s just determined to remind you of how much of a mistake last night was.

“You really came over here just for that?” you ask, your patience wearing thin.

“Yup,” he says, popping the ‘p’ like it’s the most satisfying thing in the world.

“Fuck you.”

“Funny you say that, Ash—” Jungkook starts to reply, but you shove him away before he can finish.

You glare at him, but he doesn’t press the issue. Instead, he steps back with a smirk, clearly content with having annoyed you. Linking arms with Ash, you walk away, putting as much distance between the two of you as possible.

“Just ignore him. Stay ten feet away all day.”

“We have to walk down the aisle together.”

Ash sighs. “Okay, other than that, stay ten feet away from him.”

The pictures had finally wrapped up, after what felt like a few thousand poses in every scenic corner of the hotel. The fairy tale vibe was exactly what Melanie had dreamed of, but now it was getting close to go time.

Except, of course, you couldn’t find the Best Man.

You paced around the ceremony hall, looking for Jungkook. He had exactly one job, and he managed to vanish right before it. Frustration boiled in your chest. Naturally, he’d run off now.

“Where the hell is he?” you muttered, stepping outside into the warm afternoon air. The sun greeted you, but so did the smell of cigarettes. A flash of last night flickered across your mind. Nope. Not going there.

You rounded the corner, and there he was. Of course. Standing there like nothing was wrong, cigarette in hand. Taehyung was next to him, equally guilty.

“What the hell are you two doing?” Your voice is coming out a little more aggressive than you intended.

“Oh my god,” Taehyung grabbed his chest in shock and held the cigarette away from him, “how did this get in my hand!” He threw the cigarette down like it had betrayed him and gave you his most innocent look.

Jungkook just stood there, holding the cigarette in his mouth and taking in a long breath. 

“Just get your ass inside.” You look pointedly at Taehyung and he bows his head a little.

“Sorry, I’m going.” He drops his cigarette on the ground and stomps it out. 

He then runs past you to head on inside and you follow him with your head, before you turn to look back at Jungkook. Who has not put out his cigarette. 

“Well?” you say folding your arms over your chest. 

He looks at you confused like he is supposed to do something.

“Are we supposed to be somewhere right now?” He says sarcastically, almost playful. Now coming your direction. 

“Don’t start with me, you damn well know we need to be lining up to walk down that aisle in like five minutes and you’re out here smoking!” you rub the side of your head, you really didn’t want to do this right now. 

“I’m kidding I’m sorry I really thought we had more time,” he drops his cigarette and stomps it out, unfinished, “Lets get this show on the road.”

For once, he didn’t argue. Progress.

“Thank you,” you muttered, leading the way back inside.

“No problem,” he said, tone as dry as sandpaper.  

You turned around and you went inside first. He was close behind you heading back into the ceremony hall. You rushed a little because you had to go be in line right now or the wedding coordinator would have your head. Ash was in the line in front of you and had your flowers ready for you to grab when you got in line. 

You and Jungkook were in the back of the line so that when you lined up you would be first behind the bride and groom at the alter. 

You mouth a ‘thank you’ to Ash as you take them and hold it in your right hand. You look next to you and Jungkook is already holding his arm for you to take. You groan a little bit and wrap your arm around his. 

“You stink.” You huff.

“Didn’t seem to be a problem yesterday-…”

“Shut the fuck up.”

You elbowed him hard, earning a gasp, but he recovered quickly. Just as you settled in, Melanie popped up behind you, looking like she might explode from excitement or nerves.

“Are you two going to be okay back here?” 

“Yes you just focus on your wedding.” You give her a soft smile.

“You look lovely Melanie.” Jungkook looks back at her and smiles.

“Awe thank you Jungkook. Stop giving my maid of honor a hard time.” She pats him on the shoulder. 

“Fine, only for you though.” He smiles very genuinely. 

The music in the Ceremony Hall began and everyone in front of you started walking down the aisle. You smile back to Melanie one more time before you and Jungkook begin to walk. 

The ceremony went off without a hitch. Namjoon and Melanie’s vows were beautiful, heartfelt, and perfect.

But the day was far from over.

As soon as the ceremony ended, you slipped out to the reception hall, tackling Melanie’s last-minute worries so she could enjoy some alone time with Namjoon. It was a long day—they deserved a moment to themselves.

Unfortunately, things weren’t running as smoothly here. The DJ was late, so you had to improvise. The hotel lent a larger speaker, and the planner decided to shuffle the schedule—dinner and speeches first, dancing later.

Most of the guests had already arrived, found their seats, and were milling around. The open bar helped keep them entertained. Ash was busy working the room, chatting with everyone and keeping things lively, while you stayed on the outskirts, handling logistics.

Stationed by the front door, you kept an eye on the time, knowing you’d need to get things rolling soon, even without a DJ.

“Hello.” Jungkook’s voice rang next to you.

“Yes?” You look at him blankly.

“Can I help with anything?” 

“No.” You sniff and continue doing what you were doing. 

You walk away from him and he keeps right on your toes. He expected that exact answer from you but he didn’t stop. He placed himself in front of you, making you come to a halt. 

“Oh come on. There is seriously nothing I can help you with? You look like you’re under a lot of stress.”

“No, because I don’t need your help Jungkook.”

He crossed his arms, irritation flashing across his face. “You know this is my friend’s wedding too. Thought I’d try to make things go smoother, but I guess you’ve got it handled.”

“Great, then go have a nice time,” you said, waving him off.

“You seriously can’t relinquish control if it’s me, huh? What—”

You angrily groan and push him a little further away from other guests and cover your ears with your hands in frustration. 

“God I can’t do this right now Jungkook. I don’t have the brain power to fight with you right now.” You let out a long sigh of anger. “Just go away.”

He was annoyed and so were you. You don’t get why it was such a big deal and why you couldn’t just let him help. You just didn’t want him to ruin anything. You didn’t know where that feeling came from, that he would ruin anything. Maybe just to spite you, because it felt like something he would do. 

“See this just makes me believe that last night was a waste of time. Nothing’s changed.” You rub your face a little bit. 

“Maybe. Right now though we don’t have time to deal with that.” His voice was pretty steady, he was feeling the same, “I can help though. Just tell me what I can do..” 

He was looking right at you. You hadn’t looked straight at him. You let yourself for a moment though and he looked genuine.

“The DJ isn’t here.” You let go. 

“Okay… we do have some music playing though.”

“Okay but no one is announcing Namjoon and Melanie.”

He cocked his head to the side like he was a little confused. 

“Announcing them?”

“Like ‘Ladies and gentlemen, for the first time Mr. and Mrs. Kim’ that whole thing.” You wave your hands around trying to describe it. 

He just watches your hands fly around everywhere. 

“Okay. I’ll do it then.” He says it so matter of factly, so easily. “We have a microphone set up. I can easily introduce them. Maybe even throw in a joke or two.”  

This was a small weight off your shoulder. 

“I was honestly dreading having to do it. I’m pretty worried about my speech. I don’t like talking in front of others.” 

You had been dreading the thought. You made some note cards, they weren’t very good and the story was pretty boring. It was still something. 

“Well this is one less thing you need to worry about.” He gave you what looked like a little bit of a smile, “See? I can be helpful.”

You roll your eyes.

“I’m sure your speech is great.” You mumble a little. 

He had a certain confidence in himself that you envied a little bit. 

Except you didn’t because you would never envy Jungkook. Obviously.

Still.

“Can I read your speech?” Jungkook held out his hand like you were just going to hand over the cards.

“Uh no.” 

“I’m sure it’s good.”

For some reason—maybe because you were already too stressed—you actually did. You pulled the cards from your pocket and dropped them into his hand. He flipped through them with the speed of someone browsing a restaurant menu.

“It’s not that bad,” he said, still holding onto your cards.

“Really?” You picked at the skin on your thumb, surprised. It was weirdly nice hearing that.

“Oh yeah,” he smirked, wiping his nose before leaning closer. “Now let’s see if you can remember it.”

He then slipped your cards into the inside of his jacket. Your eyes widened at the action and immediately lunged for him and he backed up. 

“You’re not fucking serious right now Jungkook.” You were trying to set him on fire with your eyes. He looked rather amused, “Give me back my cards before I kill you.”

He kept reaching out of your arm range. He knew if you got a hold of him, he was going to the ground for sure. 

“Can’t do that.” He grabs hold of one of your wrists and stops you. “Speak from within.”

“I’m going to kill you. That is the worst advice!” You actually couldn’t believe what was happening. 

Was he fucking five years old?

“I didn’t write down my speech.” He sounded so cheeky.

“Good for you.” You groaned, throwing your hands up. There was no way you were getting those cards back now.

He really was not going to give it back. 

Jungkook, still looking way too pleased with himself, tapped the side of his jacket. “I’m serious, though. You’ll have better things to say than what’s on these cards.”

“Okay, but not everyone can just whip it out like you!”

“Well—”

“Don’t.” You cut him off, pointing a finger at his face as the joke formed in his mind. He was practically buzzing with the urge to say it, but you could see him weighing whether it was worth the inevitable wrath.

Just then, your phone buzzed—a message from Melanie letting you know they were waiting outside. Jungkook leaned over your shoulder and peeked at the message too.

“Looks like it’s showtime.” He grinned, leaning way too close to your ear before taking off in a jog across the room.

You watched, half-annoyed, half-amused, as he reached the speaker playing music and paused it. The room’s chatter became the only sound as he tapped the microphone a few times, then cleared his throat loudly.

“Mic works!” He beamed, casually removing it from the stand like he was born to hold it. All eyes turned toward him. “Alright, everyone, sorry for the delay! It is my absolute pleasure to present to you all, for the very first time... Mr. and Mrs. Kim!”

He started clapping before anyone else, but soon the whole room joined in, everyone turning toward the doors as Namjoon and Melanie made their entrance. They looked overjoyed—and completely exhausted—but the energy in the room was contagious. You clapped too, quietly slipping toward your table at the edge of the room.

As Namjoon and Melanie finally reached their seats, the room began to settle, everyone sitting down together just as you reached your chair.

Jungkook still has the microphone and is standing in the middle of the dance floor in front of everyone. 

“So, I’m Jungkook as many of you know. The best man. It is my duty to let you know there has been a slight change of plan for the night folks.” He was really good at speaking to the whole room, “We are going to get the kiss and cry out of the way first tonight so we can all party and celebrate with my wonderful friends here.”

He flashes a very genuine smile over to Namjoon and Melanie. Who were sitting so close they could have melted together. 

“First thing I will say is drink responsibly tonight everyone!” He points around the room, “Specifically you mister.”

He points over to Namjoon who raises his hands up in defense. Everyone laughs a little bit.

“Speaking of whom,” Jungkook clears his throat, “I have a little story. We all know Namjoon to be kind of like a dad,” the guests all nod and agree, “He is pretty responsible and takes care of others a lot. What some may not know though is Namjoon does not hold his alcohol very well.” 

Everyone in the room either laughed a little or let out some low chatter. 

“Namjoon is actually a terrible lightweight. So he usually is the responsible one when we are out.” He paced around the room a little, “This story has to do with the night he met Melanie. He had a terrible week at his job, several years ago now.”

****************************************************

Four years prior.

Jungkook shoved his way into the bar, immediately swallowed by the crowd. It was packed—busier than he'd ever seen it, and it made finding Namjoon seem impossible. He craned his neck, scanning over heads and across booths, trying to spot his friend among the chaos.

“Come on, man…” Jungkook muttered, pulling out his phone and dialing Namjoon’s number, which, of course, went straight to voicemail. “You’ve gotta be kidding me.”

He sighed and left yet another voicemail.

“Dude, the one time you decide to turn off your phone? I’ve been looking everywhere—”

Jungkook froze mid-sentence, spotting Namjoon on the dance floor, swaying wildly in a sea of strangers. He cut the call and couldn’t help but laugh. Namjoon was not the kind of guy who danced with strangers—ever. And yet, here he was, fruity cocktail in hand, looking like he was auditioning for some bizarre dance competition.

Jungkook fumbled for his phone again, snapping a quick picture to roast him with later.

“Oh, buddy… you are done for,” he muttered, still laughing as he pushed through the crowd toward him.

Just as he was about to reach him, someone yanked Namjoon off the dance floor. Jungkook's eyes narrowed as he watched a girl—someone he didn’t recognize—drag Namjoon over to a booth and force water down his throat like he was a wilting plant.

“Do you have any friends I can call?” she asked, practically shouting to be heard over the noise. Namjoon, half-asleep, slumped against her shoulder in a drunken stupor.

“I have a friend named Jeonnnnyyy,” Namjoon slurred, and Jungkook cringed, feeling secondhand embarrassment from a distance.

The girl sighed, shaking her head. “Okay, can I have your phone to call him?”

“No no no no no no no,” Namjoon mumbled, waving his hands as if the mere thought of Jungkook seeing him like this was some mortal sin. “He’d laugh at me.”

The girl’s patience was saintly. “I’m sure he’d be happy you’re alive, but sure, whatever you say. Let me just text him—”

“I can’t leave. If I leave, I have to go back to work and get fired.” Namjoon hiccupped, sagging further into the booth. “I f-fucked up at work.” He looked like a kicked puppy, and it was almost pitiful.

The girl patted his arm reassuringly. “Hey, we all screw up. You’re not the first person to mess up at work. Trust me, I screw up all the time.”

Namjoon blinked at her, looking like he’d just found the meaning of life in her words. “Yeah, but I can’t screw up. I have to take care of everything.” His voice cracked with the weight of it, and he slouched even lower.

“Well, let me take care of you tonight,” she said softly, pushing his sweat-dampened hair back from his face. “Just for tonight. Let me carry the weight for a bit.”

Jungkook could see the change in Namjoon’s face—a moment where everything clicked for him, and suddenly he was grounded. “You’re beautiful,” he mumbled, almost too quietly for Jungkook to hear.

The girl laughed, brushing it off. “You’re a mess, but thanks. Now, let me have your phone. I’ll call Johnny.”

That was Jungkook’s cue.

“Johnny here,” he announced, stepping up with a grin. “Actually, it's Jungkook.” He clapped a hand on Namjoon’s shoulder, squeezing gently.

“Jeonnnnyyy!” Namjoon cheered, looking up at him with bleary eyes, completely oblivious to the embarrassment of it all.

The girl stood and crossed her arms, her brow creased with concern. “You know him? How did you even find us?”

Jungkook chuckled, pulling Namjoon to his feet. “He called me before he decided to turn off his phone. Classic Namjoon move.” Namjoon practically collapsed into him, his weight dragging both of them down slightly. “I think it’s time to call it a night, buddy.”

With the girl helping to steady Namjoon’s other side, they guided him through the crowd and outside, plopping him down on a bench.

Jungkook pulled out his phone to order an Uber. “Thanks for looking after him in there,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “He usually doesn’t need babysitting, but today was… rough.”

She smiled warmly, wiping some of the sweat from Namjoon’s face. “No problem at all. I’m Melanie, by the way.” She extended a hand, and Jungkook shook it gratefully.

“Nice to meet you. I’ve got it from here, though. You should head back inside.”

Namjoon, however, had other plans. “Stayyyy!” he chanted, practically bouncing on the bench. “Don’t gooo!”

Melanie laughed but knelt in front of him, pressing a piece of paper into his hand. “Here. If you ever need to talk, give me a call, okay?”

Then like that she was gone and heading back inside. Namjoon held the piece of paper up above his head. Namjoon was smirking at him, just watching him completely star struck over this little piece of paper. 

****************************************************

“I got Namjoon home that night,” Jungkook said, laughing as he addressed the room at the reception. “And yes, I made sure to stick the little piece of paper on his fridge. Luckily, he didn’t chicken out and actually called her.”

Namjoon stood up with a sheepish grin. “Full disclosure, he did stay at my place the next morning and bugged me non-stop until I called her.”

Some laughter came from around the room, Jungkook was soared through this with ease. Seeing you basically stare daggers into the side of his head the entire time.

“Okay fine, he was a little baby. Though the rest is history now.” He sighed, “Dude you fucking scored.” 

He ran over to Namjoon really quick and gave him a fist bump. 

“Seriously though, I could not be more happy than to be the best man at this wedding. I’m so happy to see you this comfortable and at ease with someone. She is amazing. I couldn’t be more excited to see how you two grow together. If I find someone who makes me just as happy or comfortable as Melanie does for you. I will consider myself lucky. Congratulations to the both of you.” 

Everyone clapped, and a few sniffles echoed through the room as Jungkook wrapped up his speech. You couldn’t help but admire how effortlessly charming he was when addressing an audience. His story had been sweet, and it stirred fond memories in you. You recalled a slightly different version from Melanie’s perspective—she had fallen for Namjoon that night, captivated by his blend of adorableness and vulnerability.

Thank goodness he’d called her.

You remembered how quickly they’d started dating after that. They dove headfirst into a whirlwind of outings, and Melanie was completely smitten while Namjoon was lost in her. Their connection had been instant. Years had passed since that fateful first date, but today felt like the culmination of a long journey—a day that had been long overdue.

“Alright, I now need to turn over the mic to my esteemed colleague.” Jungkook spun on his heel, his gaze locking onto you, and your heart leaped into your throat. That familiar, infuriating grin spread across his face. “Ladies and gentlemen, the Maid of Honor!”

He strode over to you, extending a hand to help you up. You accepted it, grimacing at the unwanted attention, as he hoisted you to your feet. He placed the microphone in your hands, and you could feel all eyes on you as you made your way to the dance floor. Sweat prickled at your brow, and your nerves danced wildly in your stomach.

A quick glance at Ash, who gave you a thumbs-up, and Melanie’s encouraging cheers offered a semblance of comfort, though you still felt like you might explode.

“Hi everyone, I am Y/N.” you managed, your voice wavering slightly. “I had a speech prepared for this occasion, but apparently, someone who shall remain nameless—definitely not Jungkook—decided to take my notecards. So, I’m winging it!”

That got you a few laughs, out of the corner of your eye you could see Ash hit Jungkook. You gripped the microphone tightly, focusing your gaze on the floor to steady your nerves.

“Anyway, I have a story that’s somewhat fitting. It’s about Melanie and Namjoon’s first date—an experience that couldn’t have gone more wrong. Namjoon had planned an elegant evening at a nice restaurant, but wouldn’t you know it, the place caught fire when they arrived. So, they shifted gears and went to see a movie instead, which turned out to be utterly terrible.”

A few chuckles rippled through the crowd, and you took a deep breath, pushing on.

“Determined to salvage the night, they decided to grab some snacks and hang out in a park. But here’s where it gets really interesting—Namjoon accidentally caused Melanie to go into anaphylactic shock because he didn’t know she was allergic to peanuts! And just when they thought things couldn’t get worse, it started pouring—I'm talking a torrential downpour, not a light drizzle.”

“It’s true!” Melanie called out from the back, prompting you to scrunch your face playfully at him.

“Some would say that, yeah that’s a really terrible date. Some may take that as a sign from the universe that you two shouldn’t be together. I certainly did. Melanie had a different perspective...”

****************************************************

“I’m your emergency contact?” You found Melanie’s bed in a far corner of the your own hospitals ER. You were technically in the middle of a shift when another nurse in the ER called you.

You had no idea Melanie had placed you down as her emergency contact. You were glad to see nothing crazy had happened. You came and sat in the chair that was available next to her. 

“Yeah, I don’t have a lot of family in the city.” She looked embarrassed, she played with her hands in her lap. You took one of her hands. 

“This is not the place I like to see you in after a date, What happened?” You scrunch your eyebrows together in some serious concern. 

“Oh, I promise it was nothing insane. I had a reaction to some peanuts but I’m really okay!” She assured you and she sat up in her bed. 

“Well that’s good, was the date good otherwise?”

“It’s actually been a crazy day. First the restaurant caught fire, our movie was terrible, I went into shock and then it rained on us.” She was laughing and you were confused, sounded like a really terrible date. 

“Oh my god.” You were in shock just listening to her. “So I’m assuming you’re never seeing this guy again?”

Before Melanie could get in a word, Namjoon had come back with some water cups. He was walking slowly as not to spill. You hadn’t had a chance to see what this guy looked like. He was very handsome, no wonder Melanie suck around during this natural disaster. 

“Water for you.” Melanie takes her water with a smile, “And I’m sorry how about you take this one.”

Namjoon tries to pass you the other water but you wave him off to keep the water. He takes a different chair next to the bed. 

“I’m Y/N, nice to meet you.” You give him a small wave and he nods. “You must be Namjoon.”

“That’s me.” He smiles, he looked embarrassed.

“You don’t have to stay I’m really okay.” Melanie assures him.

“Oh no it’s okay. I may go find where they put your jacket though, some nurse took it and hasn’t brought it back.” Namjoon set down his cup and got up again to see if he could find the nurse. 

“He’s here?” You look back to Melanie.

“Yeah he was so worried he’s stayed the whole time.”

“That’s sweet. Do I need to scare him off?” You give her a serious look.

“No no don’t. I actually want to keep spending time with him.” She sits closer to you, “All of those things did go wrong. Except all the conversations we’ve had have been like… It’s like I’ve never clicked so well with someone so fast. He’s been very kind and is listening. He has very thoughtful and intelligent things to say to every topic I bring up. He’s very goofy and awfully clumsy, but I never felt more safe. So I promise it’s okay.”

“Still, you don’t know him.” You were hesitant. 

“I swear to you that if anything happens I’ll call you in. Then we can kick his ass.” You placed a hand on your shoulder and you smile. 

Melanie would probably break all of his bones before anything could happen. 

“It’s funny though. I was serious. It’s like every time I talk to him, I’m just so at peace.”

***********************************************************************

“I stuck around because, you know, your best friend has a medical emergency with a random guy; you can’t just leave. We all talked for a while, but it became glaringly obvious when Namjoon came back that he was already so in love with her. I had never seen Melanie let her guard down with someone like that.” You chuckled, and everyone else joined in.

“That night, Melanie came back to my place, and I swear she didn’t shut up about him—not even for a second. She explained everything that happened in excruciating detail, and I thought it was the craziest first-date story I’d ever heard. But that wasn’t what captivated her. It was how Namjoon smiled, how kind and funny he was, how charming. She didn’t care that everything had gone wrong; she only cared about seeing him again. That was when I knew this was serious. This wasn’t just some fling—Namjoon was sticking around.”

You smiled at Melanie and Namjoon, realizing she had found exactly what she’d been looking for. He was the one who would treasure her heart, never to crush it. You remembered the night she met him, how she called you about another idiot she had to rescue, how he reminded her of you and how stupid he was.

She was in love with Namjoon from the very first night.

“All I have left to say is, Namjoon, I’m sorry I thought you were a creep. I couldn’t have asked for anyone better for Melanie to be with. Congratulations!”

You clapped, and everyone followed suit. Letting out a heavy breath of relief, you quickly made your way back to your seat. Ash was practically glowing, excitement written all over her face.

“That was so good!” She pats you on the back a you sit down.

“It was literally the only memory I could think of to be honest.” You scoot your chair in and you watch as dinner was being served to each table. Your food being sat in front of you. 

You look back to Namjoon and Melanie who were only looking at each other. She was so happy, so in love, and has gotten everything she wanted. We finally made it to this day.

Thank god because you were over wedding planning for a long time. 

“We did it.” You said, Ash was also looking over at them. 

“We really did. Now we get to party and have a good time!” She looks at her drink for a moment and then hand sit to you, “Drink up. This night could only get better if you fall on your face” 

You rolled your eyes and push her drink back over to her plate. 

Everyone at dinner and mingled, a lot of the relatives from both Namjoon and Melanie's sides of the family came over and talked to you. Slowly everyone finished up and cake was also served. Namjoon and Melanie were not fond of the official cake cutting thing so they just wanted it to be served out once dinner was done. Everyone ate and mingled, and you got to hear lots of stories about Namjoon over the years. He really was just a good guy, everyone spoke of him so highly. 

Even though he was one of your good friends, it was so interesting to hear about him from before. 

You also got to hear some childhood stories about Melanie that you were going to keep in your memory for later. Definitely some embarrassing ones you can bring up at other times. Eventually the DJ showed up and everyone began to dance. Everyone is getting more and more drinks in them and loosening up. You were also one of these people. It was nice to finally wind down after a very stressful weekend. 

Just dance and have a nice time. 

You had gone back to your table though and it was now a slow song, which gave you a chance to be off your feet for a little while. You did take off your shoes and just watched everyone dance. Melanie and Namjoon had begun to make some rounds around the room to greet family they hadn’t had a chance to speak too yet. Ash was off dancing with some cousin or other of someone. 

You just took a sip of your drink and closed your eyes for a moment and just listened to the music. 

“All alone?” There he was, the little pest who had avoided you all night. 

You open your eyes and look at Jungkook who has taken Ash’s vacant seat.

“I don’t see you with anyone.” You let out an annoyed sigh. 

“Hmm not true. I have been chatting up that lovely young thing over there.” He points past you. 

He’s pointing to Melanie's widowed grandmother. You couldn’t help but let out a laugh. 

“She’s way out of your league.” You take a sip of your drink. 

“I know right.” He says matter of factly, “Thought I would come over and give this back to you though.”

He places your cards back on the table, you slide them back over to yourself, lining up the edges of them.

“That was a mean prank Jungkook.” You scowl at him. 

“It worked didn’t it? Your story was great.” 

“I guess.” You don’t look at him, “Can you go bother someone else now.”

“I can’t. Unfortunately, I have been tasked to ask you to dance.” 

You snort, laughing right in his face, maybe louder than necessary. “You’re kidding, right?”

He doesn’t even flinch. “Nope. Bride’s orders. She wants to see you ‘enjoy yourself.’ Her words, not mine,” he says, looking as unenthusiastic as you feel.

Your eyes narrow as you scan the room, landing on Melanie, who’s grinning like a Cheshire cat and motioning toward the dance floor. You shake your head at her, but she just waves and mouths the word “Go,” as if you have a choice.

You sigh dramatically. “Do we really need to do this?”

“It’s her day. One dance.”

You roll your eyes. “Fine. One. But if you step on my foot, I’m taking you down.”

He stands up, stepping around the table with that annoyingly smug look. “Shall we?” His smile is barely there, but it’s cocky enough to make your blood boil.

“Don’t push it,” you mutter, taking his hand. You barely make contact, hovering your fingers above his like even touching him might burn you. As he leads you onto the dance floor, you bury yourselves among the other couples, hoping no one’s watching. His hand settles on your waist, and instinctively, you pull away.

He raises an eyebrow, clearly amused. “It’s a dance, genius. I kind of have to touch you.” You begrudgingly let him place his hand back on your waist, feeling the heat of his fingers through the fabric. “Not like we haven’t done more,” he adds with a smirk.

Your jaw tightens. “We are not doing this right now.”

“Why not? It’s funny,” he says, grinning wider.

“It’s not funny. And if you make this a running joke, I swear—”

He cuts you off, still smiling. “Alright, no jokes. Just dancing.”

The silence between you is thick as you sway to the music, the tension almost unbearable. Every inch of you screams to get away, but somehow, you stay. His body is warm—too warm—and it’s irritating how natural it feels to fall into rhythm with him. You hate it.

“This could be worse,” he murmurs, voice softer than you expect.

“Yeah, I could be dancing with someone I actually like,” you shoot back, the words slipping out before you can stop them.

His eyes flick down to meet yours. “Always so charming,” he says, rolling his eyes. “You don’t have to make this harder.”

You smirk, the alcohol making you bolder. “Oh, trust me, I can make it way harder if you want.”

He snorts. “Of course you’d take it there.”

“Just saying. You’re the one who couldn’t keep it together last night,” you bite back, giving him a pointed look. Jungkook competitive side kicking into gear.

His hand tightens ever so slightly on your waist. “You’re really gonna go there?”

“You started it.”

Shaking his head. “Fine. This isn’t so bad, right? We’ve done worse things together.”

You bristle at his words, heat rising to your cheeks. “Like I said, let’s not make this a thing.”

“Fine. But don’t act like it wasn’t on your mind.” His voice is low, taunting. It had been on your mind, but you had been doing your best to push it to a deep place inside you to forget.

You glare up at him. “I barely remember it.”

He grins, leaning in just enough that you can smell the cigarettes and cologne on him. “Sure you don’t.”

You roll your eyes, willing your heart to stop racing. “Whatever. This is officially the worst slow dance of my life.”

“Mine too,” he says, but there’s something in his tone that makes you think he’s not completely serious.

The song drags on, slow and painful. Finally, you break the silence. “So... back to hating each other after tonight?”

He meets your eyes, his smirk fading just slightly. “That’s the plan, isn’t it?”

You hesitate for a second longer than you should. “Yeah. I guess so.”

There’s a flicker of something in his expression—something you don’t have time to figure out before he lets you go, stepping back as the song ends.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭

Previous Chapter ||❥|| Next chapter

Taglist!: @akkhddhfairys @njcxlewxrld @kooklovee @ericawantstoescape @pitchblack0309 @rpwprpwprpwprw @lanie97 @httpjeonlicious @jollis87 @oopscoop

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭

[mokulule]

A Pinch of Salt - Part 4

First | Masterpost

The final part of the first installment of the Salt in the Bones series which is a project co-created with @clockwayswrites, you can see the other stuff written for it in the masterpost link above or go to the first part.

-

John looked at the kid, who just stepped inside the fucking binding circle. His mouth fell open in shock.

“What is wrong with you!?” It wasn’t so much a question as it was an exclamation, and John didn’t wait for any answer. “Of all the sodding, daft, goddamn tossers - what were you bloody thinking? No, you weren’t thinking. Otherwise you wouldn’t have fucking done that. You DO NOT go into the blasted circle!”

“Are you done?”

“Am I-“ John spluttered.

Are you done? He asked, as if John was the unreasonable one here! “Oh you’re right chuffed, aren’t you mate? Well, you cocked up, you’re about to be banished right alongside the storm, you little git!”

“Then stop the banishing or banish us both. It’s your choice.” Kid stood, back straight, jaw clenched stubbornly and a frown over those wide blue eyes. His hair and clothes whipped violently from the storm, but he didn’t care, just kept his eyes on John.

John raised his hands in frustration, words dying on his tongue. It would serve him right!

It would serve him right; he stepped into the bloody circle. It wasn’t John’s fault. Everything was going fine for once and maybe that should have been John’s warning. Whatever was up with the kid he apparently had a soft spot for ghosts - even after John had told him several times that the spirit was gone. It’d gone nova. No coming back. The end. It would continue it’s rampage until it burned out. It would hurt and destroy indiscriminately.

And yet he still-

It would serve him right to get sent to Hell alongside it. It wouldn’t even be the first time someone John worked with got sent to Hell for their trouble. John Constantine was bad luck for everyone around him. It happened.

But it was different when John held the reins of the spell that did it, when he had the choice to stop it.

Still John was at his wits end. If he stopped the banishing, the kid was still trapped in the circle with the spectral storm. If he broke the circle they were back at square one except they were in the center of the storm’s power and it was even angrier.

It was easier, safer, to just continue the banishing. Kid had made his stupid arse decision. John wasn’t a good person. He did what was necessary. Ends and means and all that.

But he was a bloody kid - a teenager - they were basically obligated to do stupid shit. Didn’t mean he deserved to get sent to Hell for it. John had seen and done a lot of shit, but when it came right down to it he didn’t want to add sending a kid to Hell.

John had seen enough dead kids to last him a lifetime.

“Oh bollocks.” John let his arms fall and cut the feed to the banishing spell, wincing slightly at the backlash. “You better have a plan kid.”

The kid had to have some sort of abilities with that aura, maybe all hope was not lost? The kid grimaced and John’s forced optimism crumbled like so much sand.

“I-“ the kid winced as something in the storm hit the back of his head. He rubbed the spot, and looked almost apologetic, “I figured I’d try talking to them.”

John stared.

And stared.

“Or-“ the kid backtracked, “just calm them down somehow?”

“You cannot ‘calm down’ a spectral storm!” John felt like a broken record on repeat. “It’s impossible.”

He threw up his hands and walked exactly three steps away counting his breaths all the while wracking his brain for a different solution. There weren’t any good ones. Heck it was a miracle the kid hadn’t already been torn to pieces being inside the circle.

“We’re dead,” he lamented dramatically.

“Half-dead.”

John’s head snapped around at the weird response.

“I mean,” the kid tried for a smile, “I’m the only one in the circle.”

John stared in despair. The kid’s sense of humor needed serious work.

“I’m not gonna leave you in the bloody circle, kid.”

Danny stood struck wide eyed at the admission. That was- He didn’t know how to deal with that. There was a pang in his chest. He felt too open, too vulnerable. He swallowed before finding his voice.

“Just let me try something, okay?”

Danny turned around to face the center of the storm, he instantly had to squeeze his eyes near shut, from all the dust. Instinctively he took a breath and coughed. Okay breathing not good. Too bad he was human right now.

He had to get closer, closer to that screaming grief. He might be human right now, but he was also a ghost and the anger from earlier was just a thin veneer on top of grief on top of a cry for help. He felt it in his core like scrabbling hands desperately looking for purchase.

He took a step forward, hands up to shield his face, pushing against the wind. Another step. Then another.

How was he gonna calm them down?

Danny didn’t know. He knew fighting. He’d even sometimes recently had luck with talking. But this? It was way beyond talking, until they were calm there would be no such thing. Danny didn’t know what to do. He could only press on and hope an idea came to him.

The grief was stronger the closer he got to the center, it tore into him. Tears trickled down his cheeks and turned into gunk from the dust. Something sharp cut into his bare arms. Danny frowned, kept his head down and pushed forward.

Another step and the grief sunk sharp claws into his core. He screamed clutching his chest and gasping for breath that would do nothing. But the claws were gone as soon as they’d come, retreated as if they’d touched fire.

“Are you alright kid?!”

Danny spared a quick glance back to Trenchcoat who stood all the way up to the edge of the circle, face white as if he’d seen a ghost. Danny couldn’t help smiling at that. Something that alarmed Trenchcoat even further.

“I’m breaking the circle.”

“Don’t,” Danny coughed clearing his throat.

Danny looked back up, squinting through the swirling dust. It may not be visible, but something had changed. There was still the anger and grief, but something else too. A sense of waiting. Waiting to see what Danny would do. They had tried tearing him, the trespasser, apart down to his core, but in doing so they had felt him. They had felt his intention to help and retreated.

Trenchcoat was wrong, there was still a sentience there. Danny found himself grinning in triumph.

But even better Danny had an idea. His core vibrated giddily in his chest. He was a bit sore, but otherwise none the worse for wear. He just needed to reach out and connect with the ghost, he felt sure he could calm them. He just he needed a distraction, he didn’t need Trenchcoat to realize he was the one doing anything ghostly. He wracked his brain, something that made noise, drew attention, was maybe a bit ridiculous, but didn’t take much of his attention from the real work-

That was it!

“Twinkle-“ his voice broke on the first word but gained strength as he continued- “twinkle little star,” Danny sang. He didn’t need to look back to see the incredulous look on Trenchcoat’s face.

He kept singing, he knew that song by heart. His mom used to sing it to him, back when she actually put him to bed. There was a stab of melancholy, but Danny clutched on to the positive aspect of the memory and reached out with his core, its hum getting stronger.

It’s okay, he told the ghost, help. Safe. Peace. Calm.

He took step by step further into the calming storm. And all the while he sung them a lullaby.

John stared.

Then he stared some more. He was doing a lot of staring today.

He couldn’t believe what he was seeing, what he was hearing.

The kid was was singing a lullaby to the spectral storm. And that wasn’t even the most baffling thing. No, the kid was singing a lullaby to the spectral storm and it was bloody working.

The storm gradually calmed until suddenly it was gone. The silence was loud in the sudden emotional void. John staggered from the sudden lack of pressure. All that malice gone in an instant. All that was left was a gently cupped ball of light in the kids hands.

“There you are,” the kid said softly in a slightly scratchy voice.

John couldn’t believe what he was witnessing. It was impossible and yet here they were.

There was a flash of light and suddenly they stood in a house. Built brick by brick by two pairs of hands. Children ran through the rooms. They grew up. They had kids of their own, who had kids of their own. They lived and they loved and they were protected.

Then they were gone.

The door shut for the last time. The house was empty.

A large metal ball slammed through the walls, spreading dust and splintering the doorframe that had measured the growth of generations. It was torn down.

It had stood here, right in what would be the plaza.

The translucent shade of an old women, bent and bony from a life of hard work, hovered in front of the kid. She warbled sadly at him. John couldn’t understand anything but the deep sadness, but it seemed the kid did.

“It’s okay,” he said embracing the spirit, somehow managing to do so despite her definitely not being solid. “You’ve done your best, nobody could ask more of you.”

He paused and his voice softened further, “it’s time to let go.”

The old lady looked over at John and gave him a stern look that had him frozen in place. She was the type of grandma that would wack his fingers if she caught him going for the cookie jar. He wasn’t entirely sure what the look he got meant. Only that it felt like an admonishment.

She looked back on the kid and her features softened, smoothed and in the next moment she turned to mist in his arms, dispersing in the waning light coming from the overhead windows.

John couldn’t entirely believe what he’d just witnessed. Calling a spirit back once they’d gone nova, it was impossible. Unheard of. Banishment was how you dealt with spirits like that. It was a tried and tested method. Yet-

John shivered.

Death magic. It was the only explanation.

The kid reeked of it, to the point John had thought he was the ghost he was here to deal with. He’d thought he was some kind of creature, but he was just a kid. A kid with a very specific magical affinity who’d just done the impossible. He was filled with a sense of awe and dread he couldn’t quite put his finger on.

He felt shaken. Like he’d stood right next to a bell who’d been rung to herald change.

John was no prophet, at most he’d get vague premonitions and he far preferred to be in the moment rather then dwell on the future or the past. He most definitely did not want to even contemplate this kid’s future. He swallowed.

Magic, in John’s experience, always came with a cost.

The kid promptly sat down on his butt. John had broken the circle and was running over before he even realized.

“You okay, kid?” He asked breathlessly.

The kid looked up, eyes a bit dazed as he blinked at John. John couldn’t really tell if his complexion was grey or it was just the dust covering every inch of him. Several places, particularly his hands, the dust was dark from blood where he’d been cut in the storm. He looked unfocused.

“How many occult detectives are you seeing?” He asked unable to hide the note of worry.

“Too many,” Kid said tiredly with a shake of his head that had cement dust falling all over. Then he looked back up and elaborated with a smirk, “one.”

John huffed a laugh. If he could joke he couldn’t be that bad off.

“How does burgers and fries sound?”

-

The kid now dusted off to the point where you could almost tell his hair was black rather than grey sunk his teeth into the burger with a pleased hum. He chewed and swallowed.

“This is almost as good as Nasty Burger.”

John paused fry halfway to his mouth. “That sounds disgusting.”

Kid laughed. “I forget how it sounds to outsiders. It used to be Tasty Burger way back when they first opened, but someone vandalized the sign and it kinda stuck.”

John hummed thoughtfully, he could appreciate the joke. Kid’s use of the phrase outsiders made it sound like he came from an insular town. Probably best for him if he stayed there.

“What’s your name, kid?”

Instantly the blue eyes narrowed on him in suspicion.

“What’s yours, Trenchcoat?” He challenged.

John huffed at the nickname and reached a hand across the table. “John Constantine.”

The kid looked suspiciously at the offered hand, then reached out and took it. “Nightingale.”

John nodded and shook his hand before letting go. Smart of him to give him a codename, he wasn’t apparently completely without sense. “Because of the singing.”

For a moment the kid looked confused to the point where John actually thought maybe he’d given him his real name.

“Singing? Ah-“ He blushed looking down and rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment. “No, that just seemed like a good idea at the time.”

John shook his head, fuck it if he didn’t like the kid. He picked up his milkshake and raised it. He tilted his head and raised an eyebrow.

“If it works…”

The kid, Nightingale, grinned ferally and raised his own shake to clink it against John’s.

“If it works.”

-

After filling up the near bottomless stomach of the teenager, they parted ways in an alley. John’s mind was already on his next case - people going missing in a forest in Germany that had a distinct this-is-not-just-a-GPS-dead-zone flavor to it - so he only absently noted the strange look on the kid’s face when he opened the portal. It was morning in Germany, he could start looking into things before calling the House for a proper sleep.

“Take care, kid.”

With those words he stepped into the portal and let it close behind him.

Danny was left looking at the portal. He shook his head, jaw tight. With real magic apparently portals were just easy. It didn’t do him any good to think about. He glanced around and when he found the alley just as empty as before he jumped into the air transforming as he went.

There were better things to think about, like the concept of an occult detective, he thought as he flew in the direction of Amity. It sounded like it could almost be an acceptable profession in his parents’ eyes.

And it probably didn’t require good high school grades either, he thought with a grimace as he remembered he had an essay due tomorrow.

-

Hope you enjoyed this story which explored how Danny and Constantine first met in this AU. Next step is letting it sit for a while, then do a thorough editing and putting it up on ao3 as a oneshot. (And then maybe talk to Clock about starting writing on the main story proper? We'll see). Comments are greatly appreciated :D

Another link to the masterpost if you wanna see the other bits of writing and/or subscribe to the series

[hpgal]

DC X DP Ghost Dog

CW: Blood, Violence

TLDR: Jason is fighting a losing battle against a new opponent he is having trouble hitting. This leads to him being chased and running into Danny whose chilling in an alley.

Word Count: 1326

a/n: Might write more where more Batfam encounter Danny and Danny's perspective, may even rewriting the ending of this. I got the idea from a prompt someone posted here on Tumblr and I forgot to save it but I'd love to tag them if anyone can help me find them! The prompt was something along the lines of Danny will randomly appear in alleys with items that the person needs exactly to solve a problem they were having.

Jason emptied his clip a long while ago and was now being chased through Crime Alley by some sort of dog. It was big. If was angry and it was... green?

The bullets did nothing to it but aggravated the thing and so it chased him. His comms weren't working to call for backup and he was getting tired. It's been 15 minutes of running and that was before you add on he was trying to fight the thing prior and he was now injured after taking a hit meant for a civilian.

He jumped off the rooftop, stumbling. Instead of catching the opposite ledge he plummeted to the ground. A dumpster broke his fall. But damn did it hurt, especially with a prexisting slash of claws on his side. He was still human after all. He had some time but he did not want to waste a single second before it could catch back up to him. So, begrudgingly and in pain, Jason pushed himself back up and out the dumpster.

"Great I'm going to smell like rotten fish for a week" he muttered to no one in particular as he brushed garbage off him.

Before he could formulate a game plan, his thought process froze. He looked up in confusion and blinked. Then blinked again as he stared at what he saw.

A kid with black hair and looked incredibly scrawny sat on a stoll behind a table with a sign "Clockworks Goods and Services!" The kid seemed unbothered with headphones on and eyes closed as he leaned back against the wall of the alley.

Hell the kid almost looked like Damian. If he has blue eyes he'd be a perfect candidate for a Bruce adoption. But why was a kid here.. selling his services?

Jason takes a moment to listen out and notice it is oddly quiet which meant the green dog must not be close yet so he takes advantage of the situation to figure out what the hell is going on here. He takes a step forward and looks at the contents on the table. It was empty except for a single bell with faded writing saying "ring me!" And so he did.

The kid opens his eyes with a start. They were piercing blue. Oh Bruce would fall for this kid instantly, he thinks to himself.

"Oh evening!" The kid starts as he stands up stretching as he removes his headphones from his head. "It looks like you're in need of my services. What is your problem today?"

The kid was so nonchalant as he spoke and moved around. The kid glanced at the table and furrowed his brow. "My names Danny by the way" he quickly adds on.

Jason stares at Danny through his mask perplexed. Something about this didn't sit right with him. It was late at night and Danny was hanging out in an alleyway selling services yet he looked not a day over 15.

But something drives him to answer Danny's question and answer it truthfully, "I'm fighting something and none of my attacks are working on it but it's causing destruction and hurting the people of Crime Alley. It even managed to injure me"

As soon as he says it, he wants to smack himself. Why would he need to tell the kid that? He shoyld be telling him to grt out of here, that it isn't safe.

Danny however shrugs like this was normal for him and looks down at the table again. The plastic folding tables surface remained empty except for the bell but Danny seems confused at this.

"Huh usually it appears when you say it." Danny mutters and proceeds to look under the table then behind him.

Jason however is further confused and raises a hand to his helmet to try his comms again. Unsurprisingly he hears only static. What he does hear instead of his families voices, is the barking of a dog in the distance and something crashing.

Aw shit.

Jason looks up then towards the entrance of the alley with a sigh, "Look, kid, I'm going to circle back to you and your... weirdness later, for now, you need to find somewhere safe while I deal with an abnormally large and green dog."

This seems to catch Danny's attention as he jerks back upright and looks at me. He stares, and I see the wheels in his head turn. He sighs, and his shoulders slump inwards.

"I get it now. I'm the service you need" Danny rolls his shoulders back and steps out from behind the table, heading to the entrance of the alley.

"Woah kid stay back! It's dangerous!" Jason calls out behind him as he jogs to catch up, only slightly twitching in pain as he moves. The kid was incredibly fast for someone who looked malnourished.

As soon as Jason reaches the street, he turns to see where the kid had gone. His eyes widened at the sight of Danny walking like it was just another day towards the rampaging dog.

Danny stops just out of reach of the green dog and whistles two quick notes. The dog pauses and looks towards Danny, its fast twisting from one of anger to excitement as evident with its tail wagging.

“Cujo!” Danny yells, “Bad dog! Drop the car!” the dog whines and drops the car it had in its mouth with a loud thud.

The dog, Jason now knows as Cujo, gets low to the ground and its ears press against its head like any dogs would when they are embarrassed or know they’ve been caught doing something they weren’t supposed too.

“Come here boy! It’s time to take you home!” Danny calls out to it, producing a glowing green dog treat from his pockets.

Jason just watches the entire encounter unfold, gobsmacked. He doesn’t know what to think of it. He couldn’t believe his luck. It was that simple. Who is this kid? As Jason continues to watch his jaw drops to the floor at what happens next.

The dog starts shrinking until it is ithe size of a puppy and comes bounding up to Danny with little playful barks. Danny scoops Cujo up with a sigh and scratches Cujos head right behind his ears.

Danny turns to look towards me, the street where Cujo came from a mess. He gives a sheepish smile and wave, “Sorry about that! I didn’t think Cujo followed me today! I’ll speak to my dog sitter about watching him more carefully next time!”

Danny turns back towards the chaos Cujo created on the street and glances at his watch. “Well, it’s time for me to clock out. I’ll send someone to clean up the mess! Sorry again!” Danny pauses for a moment as he glances once more at Jason, squinting.

A green glowing portal opens up behind Danny and he looks between Jason and the portal. He sets Cujo down and directs him to go through the portal. Danny jogs over to Jason, digging through his pockets.

“Oh sorry you’re hurt and sick. Probably my fault honestly. Here.” Danny shoves something into Jason's hands before he can protest, dumbfounded by what just happened, “That should get rid of the tainted Lazarus Waters in your soul and let your injury heal up like normal. Sorry again!”

Jason just stares before finally getting his bearings again, “Who the hell are you?!”

Danny just laughs, “I’m just your friendly neighborhood ghost.” and with that Danny leaves through the portal, it closing behind him leaving destruction and a baffled Jason in the street.

Like Danny promised, not even a few minutes later, another portal opened up in the streets of Crime Alley, spilling out dozens of glowing green people, who Jason started to believe were really ghosts. The ghosts got to work and by morning, it was like nothing happened.

At the next family dinner, no one believed Jason of what happened that night.

-----

a/n: I feel like we don't see Cujo enough in fics. I mean come on, a ghost dog? How cool is that?!?! I love Cujo <3 And we all know how much Cujo loves Danny!

[dxxdhood]

wait for me

pairing: waiter!dick grayson x gn!reader

summary: after getting stood up on a date, you notice the waiter who's been patiently watching you all evening.

tags: smut (18+), sub!dick grayson, dom!reader, teasing, dirty talk, humiliation, name-calling, slapping, handjob

wc: 1.9k

a/n: hey, hope you guys like this one! if anyone has any requests/thoughts, please send them in. i want to write more, but i really struggle with ideas haha

It’s not that bad, all things considered. You must have the intuition of a god for choosing a restaurant that allows free refills, because if you’ve had to pay for drinks this whole night, you’d have gone completely broke. Still, you can’t help feeling pretty shitty. There’s no way your date is running two hours late.

The place is a casual diner, serving a host of soups, sandwiches, and pastries that had you salivating earlier on in the night, but right now, you’re not exactly in the mood to browse the menu again. The diner doesn’t close until twelve, but it’s been almost deserted for the past hour, probably because it’s a weeknight and the average person has plenty better to do than wait on a person who’s made it obvious they’re not coming

Just as you’re about to get up and leave – for real this time – the waiter comes around to refill your drink. It’s a quarter till twelve, and at this point you know he probably wants to start cleaning up, but still he tops up your drink without saying anything. It’s a kindness, but a part of you just wishes he would kick you out already.

He’s been the only waiter on staff since you got here – even the manager knew this place would be empty – and you’re so glad he was, because if you ever want to show your face here again, all you have to do is avoid one person. It’s a shame that you feel too embarrassed to interact with him, though. He’s been nothing but polite, only asking if you were ready to order at the very beginning before quickly picking up on the fact that you were waiting on your date– the one that wasn’t coming.

You take a sip from your full drink, but you can’t stomach any more. Standing up, you try to avoid eye contact with the waiter, who’s relaxing behind the counter, as you step towards the exit. There’s a nagging feeling in the back of your head, like you’ve skipped a step or forgotten an important task. It dawns on you as you’re facing the exit: you forgot to tip him!

Well, you didn’t order a meal and you paid for your drink up front, so you’re not exactly sure if you were meant to tip him. Hell, you didn’t know if this restaurant accepted tips at all. But this waiter just watched you sit through quiet torture and the second-hand embarrassment was probably like stepping on glass.

“Hey,” you turn around. “Do I… Should I tip you?”

“Yeah, I was wondering that, too,” he says lightly. He purses his lips and stares to the side, “I’ve turned it over a few times in my head, and decided that nope! You don’t need to tip me. You have no lawful or moral obligation, I resolve you.”

You feel your eyes getting watery, so you focus on the dust in the crease between the wall and the floor. Him saying that only makes you feel worse, but it’d be too awkward to hand him the money now. It feels like there should be something you could do, some way you could thank him for keeping you company.

“How many people are staffed right now?” you ask.

He looks caught off guard, like he expected the interaction to end there. “Oh, just me and one other guy in the kitchen.”

“Let me help you close.”

His eyes widen, and you try to meet his gaze. He’s puzzled, probably trying to figure out what you get out of helping him. Eventually, he shrugs his shoulders and gets up from behind the counter.

“Yeah, why not,” he says with a fond smirk, gesturing to you to follow him. 

He leads you to the supply closet, where the two of you grab cleaning spray, rags, and a broom. While you work on wiping down the tables and chairs, he counts the cash in the register.

“So, you always offer to clean up after yourself?” he starts, too focused on tallying up the earnings to notice you staring at him. The waiter, “Dick” according to his name tag, is very cute. You were trying to ignore him the best you could for the sake of your would-be date, but honestly, fuck that guy. Your waiter with the dashing smile and ruffled hair blows him out of the water, anyway.

“Just feeling extra polite tonight. You always accept help from customers?”

“You won’t believe this, but nobody’s offered,” he says with a snort. “Still, probably not the smartest idea on my part.”

You think about his words for a second as you wipe down a particularly stubborn stain. “I wouldn’t be able to rob you if I wanted to.”

It’s true, he looked well-muscled, even if on the leaner side. His eyes are playful as he narrows them at you. “Careful, they take security footage of this place, don't confess to any thoughts you may or may not have.”

You laugh, going back to cleaning before you start again. “Can’t believe you put off closing the diner just so you could watch me get stood up for an extra however many minutes.”

“Counterpoint: Can’t believe you let yourself get stood up for so long.” Dick finishes up at the register and grabs the broom. “You’re worth more than that.”

“Oh? And how do you know what I’m worth?” you say instinctively. 

You watch his eyes widen from your peripheral vision, like he didn’t mean to say his last comment out loud. “I wasn’t trying to overstep, but, like, obviously you’re attractive. You could get anyone you wanted and–”

“You’ve been watching me all night, haven't you?” Filled with newfound confidence, you leave your rag and spray bottle and walk over to where Dick is sweeping the entrance. 

Despite how friendly he’s been tonight, he deliberately avoids eye contact as he works. “Well, yeah, I needed to make sure you got your order once – if – you placed one–”

“No, no. I mean you were watching me,” you place a hand on his shoulder. “What, you wish you were the one I was going on a date with?”

And though you know you’re jumping to conclusions, he stiffens at your words and it’s clear you’ve caught him.

“I… I didn’t want to bother–” Dick starts, dropping the broom. You use the opening to push him against the wall, hearing the scratches of the brick against his button up shirt.

“That’s alright,” you whisper. “I don’t mind being bothered.”

You can feel his chest rise and fall as you press yourself closer to him. His eyes follow your every move, and you bring your face closer until it's only inches away from his. 

You can feel the puffs of his inhales and exhales on your skin, and you’re about to completely close the gap between you two, but Dick beats you to it. He kisses you, and you pull back for a moment in surprise before sinking into the kiss.

His lips are so warm, and as he brings up a hand to pull you closer by the jaw, you notice how surprisingly soft his hands are. You try to deepen the kiss, nipping his lip in the process, and he lets out a gasp. Biting at his lip a little more, he giggles as he realizes you’re playing with him.

“You’re starting to bother me,” he quips, trying to keep his composure as you nip at the underside of his jaw. Just when he starts getting comfortable and relaxing into your kisses, you switch to biting at him, and he jolts.

“Maybe you deserve it. You need to learn better manners, sitting there, watching me all night. Bet you wish I would’ve shoved you against this wall a whole lot sooner, huh?” you whisper into his ear before going back to kissing down his neck. He moans at your words, but tries to muffle himself by pushing his face into his shoulder. You bring a hand up to his hair and tug to get him to pay attention to you.

“Right in front of everyone, too,” you continue, sliding a hand down his stomach to work on his jeans. “Just mark you, make you moan like a bitch while everyone else is watching.”

Biting his lip, Dick tries to ignore the effect your words have on him, but he’s still rutting against your hand as you’re unzipping him. He gives a small thrust against the air, whimpering as you wrap your hand around his cock.

“Shit, this all for me?” you breathe. You swear Dick can hear you smirk, even as he pinches his eyes shut.

“Don’t– Ah!” he gets cut off as you start stroking him slowly. “Don’t let– let it go to your head.”

“No, I think I’ll be just fine,” you quicken your pace, not giving him a second to get ready. “If I remember right, some slut thinks he’s hot enough to get me to fuck him just by, what, batting his eyes at me? From all the way across the diner?”

“Well–” He groans, arching his back against the wall. The sweat shines against his cheeks, you feel so lucky to be the cause of it. “Well I was right, wasn’t I?”

You chuckle, caught off guard. “Guess you are.”

You briefly remove your hand, and Dick grunts, irritated, before you spit in it and go back to forcefully jerking him off. His moans grow louder, and you can see him start to get lost, eyes growing distant while chasing his orgasm.

“Are you going to come already?” you say, slowing your pace to be more deliberate, but still keeping the pressure the same. After a moment of silence, you slap his balls and he lets out a yelp that melts into a groan. 

“Answer me!” you shout, bringing your hand back up to pull at his hair.

“Ah– Yeah, y-yes!” he gasps. “You’re going to make me cum!”

“Good,” you say before you bite at his neck again, sucking a spot right under his jugular. The skin starts to deepen and you lick, tending to it before you nip at it again, just biting hard enough to draw a pinprick of blood. 

Dick screams as he cums, thrusting into your fist at an uncontrolled pace. You work him through it, matching his speed until he falls back against the wall, spent. As he slides down the wall until he sits on the ground, you walk back to one of the chairs.

“Damn, not ready for round two?” you say, propping up your head on the top rail. He huffs through his nose, looking at you for a moment like he’s checking to see if you’re real. He seems to find what he’s looking for, giggling and resting his head on his knees. 

“Oh my god, Dick, stop it. We need to go!” A tall, built man walks out of the kitchen, “Jason” according to his name tag. Looking sheepish, Dick is ready to defend himself, but Jason walks towards him, ignoring every word coming out of Dick’s mouth. 

Dick hands you a napkin, gesturing a phone and mouthing the words “call me” as he’s dragged out of the building by Jason. In shock, you open up the napkin to find his name and his number hastily scribbled in ballpoint pen. Smirking to yourself, you only wish you knew how early on in the night Dick prepared this napkin for you. You could’ve saved the both of you two hours of waiting.

[fandoms-in-law]

Mayfield's Trailer Repairs

Summary: Steve meets Wayne while trying to help repair something at Max's trailer and ends up getting lessons on how to repair things a lot after that.

Author's note: Imagine a happy ending post S4 for these guys, I can't think of one right now.

My Idea for this Fic: Steve should get to bond with Wayne. He finds himself meeting Wayne one day at Max's trailer when he's offered to try fixing something to attempt reaching Max. Wayne offered to as he knows they haven't lived in the trailer park for long.

/\/\

Steve wasn’t the handiest of people. He hadn’t had a father to show him how to fix things, or lived somewhere he’d have to learn to keep things working; but he did want to be.

He’d do everything he could to help his friend and for Max now, that included learning how to fix the things that broke around the trailer.

That was why he was hurrying over to Max’s after a quick stop at the library to ask for any books that might help him fix air con or a water heater. He couldn’t remember which she’d said had stalled. It was a sign of how limited his knowledge was that Steve was still thinking he hadn’t known things other than cars could stall.

“Finally. Steve, when I ask for help, I don’t mean 2 hours later.” Max was complaining before he’d gotten out of the car and was still leaning over to grab the books.

“Well if you don’t want something exploding I thought a book or 2 to check was reasonable.” He retorted. “Now show me the broken thing.”

She’d already turned to do so but span back around, “You don’t know how to!?”

“Uh no. Not exactly in the Harrington playbook. We’ll figure it out.” He huffed, opening the back door of his car to fetch the meagre tools he had found.

“You kids okay?” A man called from the trailer opposite. “Need any help?”

“Please.” Max managed to groan while calling. “Steve knows nothing.”

Steve shot her a look, narrowed eyes and suspicion in them. “Do you even know him? After everything we’ve been through you’re trusting strangers?” He hissed.

“It’s Wayne. He helped us get moved in.” She rolled her eyes as if his concern was stupid.

By this point Wayne was with them, toolkit in hand. “And I told you to ask for help if something broke. Who’s the rich kid?”

“Steve Harrington Sir, Just trying to help since Max called me.” He sighed, already expecting some judgement to be given.

“That explains the books. Better than your folks would’ve done. Want me to show you what to do instead?”

The offer shocked Steve enough to meet Wayne’s eyes, nodding automatically. “Please.”

/\

They formed a pattern after that evening spent fixing the air con unit. Steve would be called first and would try to repair it based on what he’d learnt so far and books he picked up, now knowing which manuals and machines were spoken about when Max called so he didn’t have to borrow so many each time.

If he thought he’d managed it, then he’d head home and Max would get Wayne to double check if she saw him around. She’d usually radio to relay and advice Wayne offered for the next time that fault happened and realising that many of the faults had a guaranteed next time really made Steve see how much just having his house changed how he experienced the world.

The days he couldn’t they’d usually just pop over to the trailer and ask Wayne to come and help if they could see his truck was in, but he did always point out that doing night shifts meant he slept a lot of the day and didn’t want waking to help them.

That came a month after Steve had started learning to repair things from Wayne and he wasn’t prepared to have narrowed eyes suspiciously looking him over. “Harrington? Why are you knocking on my door?”

Despite having images of the boy climbing on dining tables Steve couldn’t remember his name, and after a minute gave up trying to, “Is Wayne around or awake? The heater’s broken at Mayfield’s and I can’t figure it out.”

“He’s sleeping and you just gave me so many more questions to ask, King Steve." Munson asked. Steve decided since that was Wayne’s surname it had to be the boys too.

He nodded, wondering if he could just walk away and ignore those questions, “Right, could you tell him we need a hand when he wakes up, please?”

“The message shall be relayed, my liege, but tell me how dost thou know my uncle? What convinced thou to leave your fine castle and help we humble peasants?” The boy bowed low, teasing grin and curious eyes remaining trained on Steve.

He took a step back, uncertain how to respond and deciding to slowly walk backwards, “You haven’t met Max, have you? Humble is not how I’d describe her.” Thankfully Munson let him go without another reply, just laughing at the comment. Steve just hoped he actually would tell Wayne they needed help since looking through the books wasn’t getting him far.

/\

Wayne usually got slow afternoons when he woke up, relaxing with Eddie if it was the weekend or just reading in his recliner if he wasn’t. He didn’t usually have Eddie hovering around as he got coffee, going to speak and stopping multiple times.

“You going to say whatever’s got you watching me like I’m a stranger or should I guess?” He asked after starting to eat his breakfast.

Eddie opened and closed his mouth a few more times. “Harrington was asking for you. Said he can’t figure out something that broke at the Mayfield’s.” He blurted out eventually. “How the hell do you know the former king of Hawkins High?”

“Just do.” Wayne bluntly replied, speeding his eating a little, “And you didn’t offer to have a look? Eddie.” He knew he didn’t have to say more than use that tone, just watching his nephew shift in place.

“Don’t look at me like that! It’s weird he’s here at all.” He protested.

Wayne shook his head, “Help him next time.” He stood having finished enough of his breakfast that he could help and eat the rest later.

“Where are you going?” Eddie asked, a small whine in his voice presumably over not getting to ask more questions.

“To help.”

/\

The Mayfield trailer seemed chaotic when Max invited Wayne in; books scattered on every surface that wasn’t covered in tools Steve had brought.

“What was the banging noise like again? It could be this issue.” Steve was asking, clearly having missed the knock and his arrival, completely focused on the manual in his hands.

“Well now, I’d prefer to hear that for myself. A minutes run shouldn’t cause more damage.” Wayne answered easily, forgoing any greeting.

Steve brightened, looking up at him, “Wayne, thank god. I can’t figure it out and this is confusing me more.” He held the manual up.

“Well that’s all in mechanic speak so it would do. Let’s have a look.” Wayne shook his head. He knew how to understand manuals now, but was pretty sure Steve was a few years out from figuring that out.

/\

Eddie hadn’t expected Wayne to start occasionally mentioning Steve now. He’d accepted that Dustin, and occasionally Lucas and Mike, would sing Harrington’s praises but realising that his uncle was somehow taking on a teaching role to the other boy was difficult to comprehend.

Still, when there was a knock a few weeks after the first time he’d seen Harrington in the trailer park, he knew that he had to help this time, or Wayne would actually say more over his insistence on helping.

“Harrington, Wayne’s asleep.” He stated, not waiting for anything else to be said and instead turning to grab their toolkit.

Steve leant around the door to reply, “Oh, well can you – what?”

Eddie huffed out a breath to make it clear this wasn’t the most willing action he was making. “I’m leaving a note and coming to help. He’s taught me this stuff for as long as I could hold tools.”

“Thanks, are you okay if I watch and help or would you rather I head home?” Steve hesitated as Eddie walked over to the Mayfield’s trailer. Apparently he wasn’t as oblivious to the strangeness of his presence as Eddie had presumed.

“Please do. I want to know this man my uncle thinks needs a role model.” He snorted, knocking on the door and getting a dubious look from the red-headed girl who opened it.

She looked past him to call, “Now who’s trusting strangers for no reason.”

“He’s Wayne’s nephew. That’s enough reason to trust him for me.” Steve countered, before glancing at Eddie. “This is who you tried calling humble? She only gets worse if you know her better.”

It was a point definitely well made Eddie learnt, managing to argue with the kid as much as he answered Steve’s questions while repairing the air con.

/\

“He’s Wayne’s nephew. Let us help him.” Max stated, cutting through all of Dustin’s rambles trying to convince Steve to help Eddie based off his own knowledge.

Steve hadn’t actually been arguing with that though. He just wasn’t a fan of the videos getting knocked to the floor and the chances he and Robin could get fired for letting kids access the Family Video systems.

/\

It was meant to be a simple trip, they go to warzone, Steve pops into Melvalds and the chemist for extra first aid supplies and gather back at the stolen van, then someone helps check his injuries and bind them together before they all make plans.

He was not meant to run into Wayne while in Melvalds, and definitely wasn’t meant to have him call over as they both left just after each other. Steve, Eddie and Max all agreed that as much as Wayne would help, he’d also be the one everyone would try to follow for clues over where Eddie was. For his safety it was best to keep him out of everything while they could.

“Steve? You and Mayfield vanished from her trailer too. Are you two okay?”

He blinked at Wayne, wondering how quickly he’d moved to be directly in front of him now. “No.” He honestly replied, not wanting to lie except where he had to. “But we’re dealing with it. We’ll make sure Eddie is fine and his name gets cleared, Wayne. I promise. It’s just a challenge.

Wayne’s eyes tightened, and Steve realised he’d probably said more than he should have. That didn’t seem to matter as the pain from his bat bites made him sway slightly in place and got him looked over again. “You’re injured, aren’t you? Let me check the wounds while you tell me what’s going on.”

“No. You shouldn’t get involved. I wish Eddie wasn’t either but you can-”

“Both my boys are involved so I figure an adult can help too.” Wayne insisted, cutting off the refusals as Steve found himself guided to a truck and helped to sit in the passenger seat, while his shirt was pushed up. He wasn’t sure why that was where Wayne decided to check for injuries but it did get a whistle in reaction, “At the very least cause I got bandages rather than torn up clothes.”

Steve looked down at the remnants of Nancy’s skirt and thought there was definitely a point to be had there, just not in the car park of Melvalds. “Not here. People suck and with them already blaming Eddie treating my wounds could set them after you.” He gave in to the care being offered. It would be nice to have an adult involved again.

“Then give me directions to wherever is safe enough Eddie’s hidden there.” Wayne insisted, moving to the drivers seat and watching him buckle his seat belt.

This wasn’t what Steve wanted to happen, and he had to radio the group so they didn’t panic over him vanishing, but something told him Wayne was probably the best person at first aid any of them knew. Something about Eddie’s everything gave that impression.

[hard-core-super-star]

could you write kate missing reader's birthday party ?? pls and thank u

-💜

i bet it stung [K.Bishop]

pairing: kate bishop x reader

summary: kate tries her best to be there for everyone but sometimes, she messes up.

warnings: angst with happy ending; mutual pining, friends to lovers; kate's a mess but she's trying her best; allusions to sex + mentions of hickeys; NOT proofread

wordcount: 1.7k

a/n: HEY GUYS! i've been spending most of my time working on polishing vampire!kate and trying to figure out an upload schedule for new chapters BUT i suddenly got hit with inspiration to tackle this request and now it's here. i actually really liked how this turned out, sorry to the anon who requested this because it took me a RIDICULOUS amount of time to write it 😅 as always, thanks for the love, support, and patience. hope you enjoy <3

* * * * * * *

You didn't want to think the worst of your best friend.

You wanted to be kind and patient and understanding and not give her the silent treatment like she deserved. But what else were you supposed to do after she broke yet another promise to you?

Maybe it was stupid, maybe you were being overdramatic, or maybe you had a damn good reason for feeling so disappointed.

It wasn't the biggest deal in the world, you knew that, but that didn't stop you from wanting to shut down and hide in your room. You couldn't do that, though, since you were still in the middle of your living room, celebrating your birthday.

Well, celebrating is putting it nicely.

It's more like you're sitting on your couch, surrounded by people who know and love you, and trying to act like your heart isn't sinking down into your stomach and making it churn with something akin to anxiety. What's bothering you isn't anxiety, though.

It's the fact that Kate looked you right in the eye and promised she would be there before the end of the night. Your birthday wasn't exactly the best day for the archer to go off on a complicated mission but it wasn't like she had a choice.

At least, that's what she had said before running out the door with that breathtaking smile on her face.

You had believed her at that moment but then night came and Yelena showed up at your apartment with a bottle of unlabeled vodka in her hand and no awkward archer at her side. It would have been fine if the blonde hadn't mentioned she had no idea where Kate was even though she had told you Yelena had assigned the mission to her.

You didn't want to make a scene, though, you were supposed to be enjoying your day and getting slightly too drunk with your friends while eating ridiculously expensive cake.

Your change in mood didn't go unnoticed by the Russian or the rest of your friends.

"She'll be here," Peter says, offering you a small smile. "She's just a little late."

"Yeah!" Kamala joins in, giving your knee a reassuring squeeze. "When has Kate not been late to something, right?"

Yelena opens her mouth to answer but the glare you send her way makes her rethink her words. "She is…awful at time management."

You snort, lifting up your cup. "Cheers to that."

Your friends join in and you down the rest of your drink, thankful that the bitter taste of the alcohol distracts you from your bitter feelings.

The rest of the night looks the same with drinking and crappy jokes and far too many slices of cake. Your friends leave a few hours later and it's not until you turn the music off and silence engulfs you that you remember your disappointment.

More than that, it suddenly dawns on you that you're alone.

That Kate still isn't back.

It hurts more than it should.

You know she didn't lie but she still chose not to tell you she wouldn't make it. She promised she'd show up and she didn't.

You're in the middle of cleaning up the kitchen, doing your best to hold back your tears because you are not going to cry on your birthday, when you hear the sound of the front door opening.

It takes a lot of self-restraint to stay instead of running away like you want to. You already know you'll end up forgiving her for missing your party, no matter how stupid the reasoning she gives you is.

"y/n."

The simple sound of her voice is almost enough to get you to break. You're determined not to break down this time, though, and certainly not in front of her.

You take a deep breath before turning around to face her. Your eyes instantly fall on the badly wrapped present and the almost crumpled bouquet of flowers in her hands. Any other day, you would have found it cute.

It's hard to break your habit despite how upset you are and you find yourself scanning her for any clear or severe injuries.

It doesn't take you long to notice the marks on her neck. You assume they're bruises, that her messy hair and disheveled appearance are part of whatever trouble she ended up getting herself in tonight.

But then you look closer.

And suddenly the room feels far too small, the air too thick to let you breathe.

Kate instantly takes notice of what's stolen your attention, placing the flowers down before her free hand comes up to nervously rub at her neck. You're not a genius but you know all her tells by heart.

"You didn't," you say, your voice barely above a whisper but brimming with danger.\

"It's not- I didn't-" She cuts herself off with a sigh.

You know exactly what that means. She doesn't even have an excuse. No stupid explanation to make you feel better. If anything, that makes her guiltier.

Of what? You're not too sure. You just know your best friend was out getting laid when she was supposed to be here with you.

Your unspoken feelings for her only make her betrayal worse.

"You're fucking unbelievable, Kate."

You see a flash of hurt stain her usually bright eyes but you don't care. You can't. Because all of you've done since you met her is care and it's gotten you nothing but heartache.

"y/n."

The soft tone she uses tugs at your heartstrings and yet you force yourself to keep going. To walk away and put enough space between the two of you so you don't have to keep staring the truth right in the face.

Kate doesn't love you. Not the way you want her to. And even though you love her, you can't keep letting yourself get hurt like this.

Not anymore.

So, you walk away.

Unfortunately, you still live together which makes your plan to ignore her for at least a few days practically impossible. Maybe it's immature but the only thing you can do is stay in your room and avoid interacting with her as much as possible.

Avoiding her does little to soothe your hurt feelings, though, and hearing her pace outside your locked door like a scolded puppy makes things even harder. All you can do is remind yourself you already know what her excuses will be anyway so what's the point of letting her in just to be hurt again?

It's a good plan but it doesn't take into account how…persistent Kate can be.

You assume she'll end up doing something to catch your attention but you never once think she'll climb the fire escape and knock on your window.

That's exactly what she does, though, which leaves you pretty much unable to ignore her.

You think about it for a second but then your eyes meet hers and you get up before you can stop yourself.

It's stupid, you know that, but that knowledge doesn't stop you from opening your window. You don't let her in even though it's ridiculous to make her stay outside.

"Do you need something?" You ask.

"Yeah, to talk to you," she replies, her eyes nervously searching your face. "I need to apologize."

"You don't have to, you-"

"Yes, I do and you have to let me in." She seems just as surprised as you are by her words.

You momentarily think about shutting her out and yet somehow, for whatever stupid reason, you don't. You take a step back and allow her to climb in through your window like all those times before. At least this time she's not bleeding.

An awkward silence settles over both of you as she stands in the middle of your room. You regret not cleaning up a little before making your way to the window since now she's subjected to all your haphazardly thrown tissues and incredibly messy bed.

"What now?" You question, already fidgeting with your fingers while you wait for her to talk.

"Now…I tell you how sorry I am and how big of an idiot I am."

"Kate, we've been friends for years, I already know you're an idiot," you say with an eyeroll that holds way too much affection.

"True," she says with a chuckle. "No, I um…I really messed up but not in the way you think. I did miss your party but I…I didn't hook up with anyone. Not really, I-"

"You really don't have to explain this to me." You rush out, not at all wanting to hear those kinds of details from her.

"Yes, I do." She takes a step toward you and it takes all your restraint to not step away from her. "I don't want you to think I went out and slept with someone else on your birthday-"

"Kate," you try again. "You're an adult, you can do whatever you want."

"I want to do that with you!"

There's an edge of desperation to her voice that makes you pause. More than anything, her words confuse you.

"What are you talking about?"

A groan escapes her lips and before you know it, she's getting rid of the space between you and gently taking your face in her hands. She tilts your head until you're looking right at her and your breath gets caught in your throat from the proximity.

"I. Want. To. Be. With. You." Kate whispers every word into the small space between your lips. "I did get caught up on a stupid mission but I didn't sleep with anyone else. I just had to get creative and I took a page out of Natasha's book. I didn't think I'd end up with a massive hickey, though."

It's absolutely ridiculous.

It honestly borders on stupid.

So much so that you laugh.

You laugh until the weight you've been carrying for who knows how long falls off your shoulders.

Until finally, finally, you're able to lean in and kiss the girl of your dreams.

Kate may be an idiot who always gets herself in the worst kinds of troubles but…she's your idiot.

Finally.