#and it turns out he was getting my messages the whole time | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

he3ts · 2 days ago

Text

GIVE YOU MY LOVE

squid game masterlist / part one — part two — masterlist

pairings: nam gyu x reader

warnings: angst, jealous!nam gyu, smut ( p in v ) less than the first part but i prioritized tension and sadness!! toxic relationship, sub reader, alcohol use. mild thanos x reader. this is part two, i recommend you read part one to continue reading. sorry if this is long, but i got too carried away. never mind the mistakes, i'm fucking tired

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and i don't see an easy way to get out of this,,

her diary, it sits by the bedside table

the curtains are closed, the cats in the cradle

who would've thought that a boy like me could come to this

oh i, i just died in your arms tonight

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This time, you would not come back

At first, he didn't pay him any mind; you always did that. You would walk away, disappear for a few days, then come back, slamming the door and insulting him for his way of doing things. It was your sick game, a cycle that repeated itself over and over again. He knew it, had always known it, and that's why he hadn't worried when, for the first time, you didn't answer his calls.

You're being difficult. He had told himself a thousand times, throwing the phone on the table with a tired smile. But then the days had passed. Seven, to be precise. A week without a message, without a call, without even your name lit up on the screen in the middle of the night. A week of total silence. And then the weeks had turned into a month.

Nam Gyu had begun to feel it on his skin, that emptiness, like an ink stain slowly spreading, staining his days, soiling everything. The phone had become an obsession. Every night he unlocked it, looked at your contact, but he couldn't call you. He was too proud. Too convinced that, sooner or later, you would give in. You. Not him. Just you.

Only you hadn't. As the months began to roll by, Nam Gyu began to change.

He was no longer him. Or maybe, he was more than before, but without your eyes to make him feel like someone better. Without your presence to balance his chaos. His nights were made up of never-ending cigarettes, of glasses left on the edge of the table, of pills melted under his palate, of days that blurred together without meaning. He did not sleep, or slept too much. He talked little, or talked too much and to the wrong person.

Girls came and went. Bodies without faces, kisses without taste. He looked for your scent on them and never found it. It irritated him. It drove him crazy.

One year. A year without you. That was how he measured time now.

No one was saying it out loud, but everyone was noticing. The way he reacted to things had changed, patience was in tatters, irritability a constant. Friends knew it, strangers who crossed his path at the wrong time knew it, but no one knew it as much as he did.

No one felt your absence like he did. Yet, he was no longer looking for you. Because inside him, though he didn't want to admit it, he understood. This time, you were not coming back. For your own sake.

The club Pentagon was still the same. Dim lights, pounding music, bodies moving too close, but never enough to fill the void. The air smelled of alcohol, sweat and stale desire, a perfect place for those who wanted to forget, for those seeking a temporary escape from reality. Nam Gyu had dropped onto one of the black leather couches, a drink between his fingers. The amber liquid swayed slightly as he stared blankly at it. He didn't even know why he was there. Or maybe he knew, but he didn't want to admit it. It had been months since he had heard from you. Months that had stretched into a whole year.

"May I sit down?" A female voice brought him back to reality. He looked up as his eyes rested on a young woman with dark hair, bold eyes, a smile that tasted of promise. She wore a black dress that swathed her body in a way that should have attracted him. It should have.

Nam Gyu did not answer right away; he already knew how it would end. It was going to be a night like many others, a night when he would try to forget you in the arms of someone else. It never worked, but he kept trying anyway. He nodded his head. She smiled, satisfied with his silent acceptance, and sat down next to him. Her scent was sweet, perhaps too much so.

"Are you alone?"

He gave a small, bitter smile. "For a long time"

The girl laughed, as if that answer was a joke, and moved just enough closer to reduce the distance between them. Her fingers grazed the rim of his glass, her red-lacquered fingernails tracing a circle on the cold glass.

"Can I buy you another drink?"

He finished what was in his hand in one slow sip, letting the fire from his drink trickle down his throat, and then set the empty glass on the table.

"That's not necessary"

She leaned even closer, her legs crossed in a studied way, her knee brushing against his. "Then maybe I can offer you something better"

Her fingers slid down the collar of his shirt, playing with the first open button. It was an inviting, calculated gesture, something that should have ignited a modicum of interest in him. Yet, he felt nothing. There was no excitement, no desire, just a sense of apathy that suffocated him.

But he did not back down. He could not go on like this. Maybe, this time, it could work. Maybe, this time, he would stop thinking about you.

The cab sped silently through the brightly lit streets of Seoul. Nam Gyu sat beside the girl, his head leaning against the window. He looked out, the reflection of the lights stretching across the glass, distorted like his thoughts. She was talking to him, but he wasn't really listening, occasionally nodding, occasionally hinting at a smile. He had gotten good at pretending.

When they reached his apartment, she took him by the hand and pulled him inside, without hesitation. She closed the door behind her, dropping her purse on the floor, and pushed him against the wall.

"Are you always this quiet?" she whispered, biting her lower lip as her fingers slipped over his shirt. He looked at her, searching for something in her eyes, something that might convince him she was doing the right thing. But he found nothing. Still, he let her. Her lips came to rest on his, the kiss was expert, voracious, but it didn't make him feel a single thing. Her hands touched him, sought him out, and he reciprocated out of pure automatism.

He let himself be pulled toward the bed, his breathing heavy, his body moving without his mind really being there. She pushed him down, lay on top of him, her lips tracing a trail down his neck. He closed his eyes. For a moment, just a moment, he tried to imagine that she was you. That the hands caressing him were yours. That the voice whispering his name was yours.

And then, without meaning to, without thinking about it. She had squeezed his hair vigorously. Only you could do that.

"Y/n, oh my god bunny"

The girl stopped suddenly, hearing that unfamiliar name. She stiffened and pulled away slightly, her breathing labored. "What did you say?"

Nam Gyu opened his eyes. Her own whisper still seemed to echo in the room. Your name. He had said it. He had whispered it against the lips of another girl. A heavy silence fell between them. She drew back, her eyes narrowing in a mixture of anger and disbelief. "Are you kidding?"

He did not answer. There was nothing to say. She stood up abruptly, hastily picking up her clothes scattered on the floor. "Take your ex back at this point," she spat, slipping on her jacket without even looking at him again. And then, without another word, she walked out, slamming the door behind her. Nam Gyu stood motionless, his gaze lost in the ceiling, his breathing heavy.

He closed his eyes again, but this time there was no illusion, no lie to take refuge in.

The bed was cold. And the emptiness he felt inside him seemed to have no end.

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Time had stopped making sense, your days had turned into weeks, weeks into months, and months into a whole year without him. Without his burning gaze on you, without his voice to make you shiver, without his touch to always bring you back to where you started, without his caresses.

You had left without a trace, because you really needed it. Needed to change. You had changed areas, found a different job, away from those places that talked too much about him. You had deleted numbers, blocked calls, closed every door left ajar. You had even nipped relationships with people who could have brought you back, because you knew that all it took was one small crack to bring you down again.

It had been difficult at first. The sleepless nights, the phone that went silent but you kept looking at it anyway. The dreams in which he still appeared, vivid, real, with that damned ability to creep under your skin even when you didn't want him to.

And then there was the silence. Too much silence.

The mornings when you woke up with a heavy heart, a tight throat, and the knowledge that you were facing another day without him. The dumb ache of knowing that, deep down, no one had ever made you feel the way he did. Not even in the good, and especially not in the bad. But then it had become habit.

Silence had stopped being an enemy, and had begun to seem almost like a salvation, no longer having to explain to yourself why you always came back, no longer having to justify your need for him with excuses that no longer held up. And, little by little, you had begun to convince yourself that it was really over, that there was nothing left between you. That the love that had consumed you had died along with that old version of you.

But some days were harder than others. You simply woke up already in the morning in a crooked moon. You suffered from lifelong insomnia, but with him it was rare to happen, but that night it was past one, then two, then three. You were lying on the bed, the ceiling a white void that gave you no answers, darkness enveloping everything but your thoughts. Your chest ached, as if there was a weight on it, a tight knot that wouldn't untie.

You didn't know what had triggered that particular night. Maybe a familiar smell heard on the street, maybe "I Just Died in your Arms" played on the radio just that afternoon, his favorite song, maybe just the weariness of having to pretend every day that you had moved on. You had gotten out of bed with soft legs, head light. In the kitchen, the silence was deafening. You had leaned your hands against the counter closing your eyes, biting your lip to hold back the burning that rose in your throat. But it was no use. You could feel it coming. That silent pain, that grip that gripped your stomach and left no escape.

And then, without warning, the tears began to fall. Slow, heavy.

No sobs, no sound, just a silent weeping that seemed to never end. Warm drops on your cheeks, on your lips, falling onto the kitchen countertop one after another, as if your body was expelling all the pain that had been trapped inside for too long.

You felt stupid. You felt weak.

A year had passed. A bloody year. You should have been better off. You should have been free of all this. Instead, there you were, crying in the darkness of a kitchen you didn't even feel was yours, your heart still beating for him, his name trembling on your lips even though you didn't say it.

With the knowledge that, perhaps, you had never really forgotten him.

And that, perhaps, you never would.

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Rain was falling incessantly on the city's gray streets, slipping from the rooftops like tears that no one would ever wipe away. The sky was a cluster of dark clouds, and the air had that oppressive weight that precedes something inevitable. You walked aimlessly, your hands stuffed in the pockets of your jacket too light for that bitter cold, your mind clouded by thoughts that would not shut up. It was one of those days that seemed meant to break you down, no money in your wallet, no place to return to with a smile.

And now him, too. You had rebuilt your life, of course you had to, you were engaged and maybe in love but you didn't know for sure. You thought it centered on the theory that first love is forever, maybe that was why you couldn't open your heart easily to someone else. It was like a poison. But fortunately you had managed, however briefly, to be happy. It had all started that morning with a seemingly innocuous sentence, a joke said lightly, almost in jest.

"You are with me, but sometimes I feel like your head is elsewhere"

You had looked up from the empty plate, fingers fiddling with the now useless fork, your boyfriend was standing in front of you, a smile on his face, you knew him well enough to know something was up. And you knew yourself well enough to know that at that time you were not as spry as before.

"What are you talking about?" you had asked, trying not to sound defensive. He had shaken his head, the smile barely on his lips, but his eyes betrayed his frustration.

"About him"

Your breath had caught in your throat for a second. Yes, him. Nam Gyu.

He had said it out loud. Even though he had never spoken his name, that name that was no longer supposed to belong to you. You had set your fork down on the table with a clatter, trying to maintain control. "I don't want to talk about it"

"But you still think about it"

"I don't"

He had laughed, but without mirth. "Are you really sure?"

Were you? His words were a knife digging into you, slow and precise. "It doesn't matter," you had said finally, crossing your arms.

"It matters to me"

His fingers had drummed against the table, the sound rhythmic and nervous. Then he had shifted, leaning against the back of the chair, watching you with a gaze that made you feel naked, vulnerable. In that perspective, you had noticed how a little like him he looked. You were so screwed.

"I heard you in your sleep," he had said. "You call him. Not me. Him"

You had stiffened.

"No"

"Yes"

The air in the room had become heavy, unbreathable, and going back seemed impossible. "It's not my fault if-"

"If what?" he had pressed, raising his voice. "If he left you? If he destroyed you and now you think no one else can put you back together?"

You had felt your face heat up, your throat tighten. It was unfair. It was cruel. But it wasn't a lie. "If you think that, why did you stay with me?" you had retorted, your voice broken with anger and pain, "You knew my history, you ... You cannot hold my greatest weakness against me"

He had shaken his head, and for a moment had looked more tired than angry. He raised an eyebrow, not expecting me to respond that way.

"Because I thought that in time things would change"

A long silence had fallen between you. One that hurt more than words. Then he had sighed, grabbed his jacket and headed for the door, not turning around before leaving. Nothing more had needed to be said. He had been right. He could not be a replacement and you were still trapped in the past. Alone again.

You had left the house only three hours later, your cheeks streaked with bitter tears, your nose red with shame. You felt the air lacking inside the crowded subway, the air saturated with the smell of rain and dampness. You had sat in a corner, your hood up, your eyes fixed on your hands entwined in your lap. Then you had seen him when you hurried downstairs. A well-dressed man with an enigmatic smile and an expression of someone who always knew more than he was saying. He had stretched a smile at you in a casual, almost distracted gesture.

"Will you play with me?" he had said, and you had almost laughed. A game. It was almost funny, maybe he was trying to cheer up your depressed mood. He had shown you two cards, one blue and one red, and you immediately knew what the game was. Ddakji. You had accepted, perhaps just out of defiance. Maybe because you needed something to take your anger out on.

Every blow you gave against the card seemed a reflection of the chaos inside you. Every pop in the air, every defeat, every burn on your skin when his hand hit your face. But then you had won and the bills had slipped through your trembling fingers. It was not the money that scared you. It was the temptation, because you needed the money. And, perhaps, you had nothing left to lose.

You had returned home sadder than before, the room was a reflection of you, you had taken off your soggy jacket and dropped it to the floor with a dull thud, you sat in the armchair cross-legged looking at the damn note.

Then the music had begun.

"Oh, I just died in your arms tonight..."

You had frozen. A chill had gone down your spine, your hands had begun to shake. That song, that damn song. The radio croaked slightly, the sound imperfect, lived-in. An old gift. One you had kept out of habit, just because it was part of you, and like a slow poison, your mind had gone back.

To him.

To the first time you had listened to that song together, lying on the bed with the rain beating against the glass. To the way he had smiled, brushing your hair away from your face with a careless gesture. To the taste of his lips, to the unspoken promise that was in every kiss. To the anger. To the longing. To everything you had tried to bury. Your gaze had slipped to the note clenched in your fist. Maybe you weren't really free. Maybe you never would have been.

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The metallic sound of the doll's voice was still echoing in your head.

The field was littered with motionless bodies, some lifeless, others paralyzed with fear. Blood stained the dusty ground, yet adrenaline did not allow you to dwell on that scene of terror. Your heart was beating so fast you feared it might explode. You had survived. Where the fuck had you gone? Blood, too much blood, your beautiful face was stained crimson red, you could no longer breathe regularly. But you were alive. With hands still trembling, you had turned around slowly, trying to catch your breath, to process what had just happened.

Terror made your whole body shake in a ghoulish dance, you hid your hands in the pockets of that horrible green sweatshirt. You were breathing only because you had to, only because you wanted to live again. You could not die, you were young, poor, yes, but still young. Everyone seemed too interested in money, blinded almost to want to continue. You obviously voted X, how could you continue knowing that maybe you would die next?

The bed was uncomfortable, you couldn't even eat, you were terrified, and now you were forced to play again just because of someone else's greed.

Nam Gyu no longer knew how long he had been staring into space, the spoon trembled between his fingers, he was nervous, he was in withdrawal, the bland meal had now cooled before him, but none of this mattered. He was in withdrawal and thought it was just yet another vision he had before him. But no, he had seen you. You. Across the room, far away, your back slightly bent as if you wanted to make yourself smaller, more invisible. There you were, intent on eating in silence, not drawing attention to yourself, but your face, your movements, everything about you screamed your presence like a deafening echo in his chest.

The spoon almost slipped out of his hand. His lungs closed, as if the air had suddenly become too thick for him to breathe.

One year.

But it had only taken one glance. One bloody instant to shatter every lie. He had lost you. But he had never forgotten you. And now you were there. You were real.

Your hair was longer, slightly messy, but it still looked good on you, as if it belonged to that version of you he had never known. Your face was more mature, marked by something he couldn't define. Suffering? Weariness? Or was it just time that had left its mark?

You were even more beautiful. A kind of beauty that hurt the eyes.

You looked fragile, almost ethereal, as if the world had crushed you for too long. But he knew. He knew that inside you was still that flame, that storm that had always engulfed him. He watched as you brought the spoon to your lips slowly, with no real desire to eat, with no real taste to that meal. Your movements were mechanical, lifeless, and that realization hit him like a punch to the stomach.

He bit the inside of his cheek, holding back the wave of emotion that threatened to overwhelm him. A laugh at his side abruptly brought him back to reality: Thanos, the purple-haired boy, the rapper, always stoned and a little disconnected. Sitting next to him looking relaxed, as if they hadn't just risked their lives. He was saying something, a joke maybe, but Nam Gyu couldn't follow him.

Not as long as you were there. Not as long as your breath seemed to echo in every corner of the room. Thanos followed his trajectory, turning his head sharply toward Nam Gyu "Do you know her?"

"No," he had gasped, but he still stared at you with too much intensity, without shame or modesty. Your eyes met. One moment. A single, eternal moment.

Your lips barely parted. The spoon remained suspended between your fingers, as if you had forgotten what you were doing. Nam Gyu felt the blood freeze in his veins.

You.

It was really you.

Bunny.

He had missed you.

He had missed you to death.

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He did not know how it had started, but Thanos had set his eyes on you from the start. He had opened the cross necklace around his neck only to pull out what looked like an ecstasy pill to Nam Gyu. He scrutinized you as if you were a fun puzzle to solve, as if he had already decided you were worth playing with.

After the fight with Player 333 he seemed more fierce than ever, his had been a test toward him, he was plotting something, and Nam Gyu knew it. Maybe he had noticed the way he was looking at you? He didn't want to talk, didn't want to hunt for some weakness. But seeing you there again had ignited that flame in him that he was unlikely to extinguish now. He felt the fire sprinkle in him everywhere, how delirious.

Thanos was serious, approaching you with that relaxed walk of his, his head slightly tilted, as if everything was a big joke and he was the only one who knew the punchline.

Nam Gyu could tell from your eyes, from that little glint, that you were amused. Maybe from his dilated pupils. Okay it's done, it's going to be really funny.

He clenched his fists inside his pockets, his fingernails digging into his palm. Thanos was already in front of your figure, his face tilted in a theatrical gesture, while you were still trying to finish your cross-legged meal.

"Hey, Señorita"

Nam Gyu felt the blood boiling in his veins, you barely looked up from your meal, the spoon suspended in midair. You tilted your head, watching him curiously.

"Señorita?" you repeated with a smile that, however small, was enough to annoy Nam Gyu. That symptom of belonging. You had never been engaged, not officially, but at the club his friends always tried to stay away from you.

"Yes." Thanos nodded slowly, with that air of a sassy kid who enjoyed pushing himself. "I've decided I'm going to call you that. It sounds better than your number, doesn't it?"

"I don't like it"

Thanos clutched his shoulders. Nam Gyu forced himself to look away. He felt his own breathing becoming heavier, his chest rising and falling with effort. He had no right to be annoyed. He had no right to intervene. Yet, he felt the need to do so.

You chuckled, lowering your gaze to your meal.

"Join my team, and I will protect you at all costs"

Another laugh. Light, almost distracted. Yet every time Nam Gyu heard it, it was like a punch in the stomach. He hadn't heard you laugh like that in a long time. Not with him. Not for him. He was the one who knew every expression on your face, every nuance in your voice, and yet, there you were now, smiling with someone else.

And then, as if that were not enough, your eyes shifted to him. You were doing it on purpose, it was so predictable. You hadn't seen him in years. Years in which you had tried to forget the sound of his voice, the way his touch could burn your skin, the look with which he had always made you feel naked, exposed, vulnerable. You had vowed never to think of him again, to rebuild yourself, to erase his name from your mind. But when your eyes had landed on him in that bare, stuffy dormitory, time had stood still.

He had changed. Thinner, harder. His face seemed carved in stone, his black eyes were duller, more hollowed out. Did he have new tattoos? For a moment, you had seen a spark of something familiar before he looked away.

"So now you want to impress me?" you had told him, as Thanos sat down next to you just to talk some more.

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Nam Gyu sat in a corner, his body motionless, his hands intertwined in front of his face. He was trying to ignore it. He was trying to ignore the discomfort that knotted in his stomach every time Thanos spoke to you. But then, Thanos spoke.

"Strange," he said, with his usual arrogant smile, his eyes cast toward the piggy bank. "I didn't think you were the type to let a woman like that go"

Nam Gyu did not react. Not right away. Thanos understood. He was high and only wanted to annoy him.

"Or maybe," he continued, tilting his head slightly, "you never really had her?"

A deep breath. Absolute control. He didn't want to give him the satisfaction of a reaction.

"Why are you talking about things that don't concern you?"

Thanos laughed softly, with the confidence of someone who knows he has the upper hand. He leaned in slightly closer, as if deliberately trying to provoke him.

"Because it amuses me," he whispered. "Because I want her. Because you had her in your hands and threw her away like an idiot"

Nam Gyu clenched his jaw, still silence. Still checking. Yes, he was an idiot. Yes, he was wrong. Yes, his heart still burned for you.

"But maybe it was for the best," Thanos continued, the grin becoming more and more evident. "She is free now."

The bed creaked in an instant, Nam Gyu stood, his breath short, his hands clenched into fists, his eyes burning with pure rage. Thanos smiled even wider. "Ah, so you still feel something? What a surprise"

"Leave her alone"

Thanos stared at him, and for the first time a shadow of caution flashed in his eyes. He was only joking. "What is it you call her? Bunny? Bro, you're really fucked up to call her in your sleep. Maybe you should-"

Nam Gyu moved even closer, his gaze now a bottomless abyss. His sweatshirt sleeves were up, Thanos noticed his scars, from when he was piercing himself. He took his necklace with a dry gesture, opening it in front of him, Nam Gyu's eyes lit up with something all too intense.

Thanos studied him for a long moment, then tossed him the pill, the smile barely noticeable. "Don't worry, champion. I don't want any trouble. At least not yet"

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You could not sleep. The need to go to the bathroom had become impossible to ignore; you were so terrified that you hadn't thought about your physiological needs at all. You had risen cautiously, slipping away from your bed without a sound, moving like a shadow among the huddled bodies. You crossed the dark room, the faint red and blue lights on the floor were blinding. When you reached the door, the guard behind the glass looked impassive.

"You can't get out"

The metallic voice rang through the device, cold and impersonal. You paused, your breath suspended for a moment.

"I need to go to the bathroom." Your voice was firm, but your body tense, but the guard remained still. Not an ounce of sympathy. Clenching your fists, the idea of having to stay there, of being denied even that slightest freedom, made your blood boil in your veins.

"If you'd rather I do it here, be my guest and watch"

The guard did not move. He did not respond. Nervousness burned under your skin. Your instinct told you that you would never be able to convince him, because you couldn't even convince yourself. Do it in front of everyone, even if they were asleep? That was out of the question. But then, a presence behind you.

"What's the problem?"

His voice. Low. Deep. Strange. A shiver went down your spine even before you turned around. He was there, so close you could feel the heat behind you. His gaze, heavy as a mark on your skin, did not leave the guard in front of you.

"She just needs to go to the bathroom"

The guard did not move, "It is not allowed at night"

Nam Gyu took a step closer. "Not allowed?" His voice dropped a tone, becoming darker, more dangerous. "Either you let her pass, or we make a scene. But I guess you don't want to attract attention, right?"

The guard was impassive, as always, and he was so close, and you desperately needed the bathroom.

Nam Gyu looked at him as if he could break him in two with a single glance, resting his hand on your back. "Don't be an asshole," his voice was pure threat. "Open that door."

A second of absolute tension, then finally the guard opened the door. As soon as the door opened, Nam Gyu gently grabbed your wrist, guiding you out without another word. He walked in front of you, determined, his shoulders broad and tense. His grip on your wrist had barely loosened, but the contact between your skins was still there, alive, electric. Reaching the bathroom door, he stopped, you turned toward him, finally meeting his gaze. He was staring at you in a way that almost made you hold your breath.

His eyes were dilated, shiny, you remembered, because you had those eyes too, then you had decided that ruining your life was not the thing and stopped. Only when you had turned away from him had you felt the air lacking. So close, you could touch him, just reach out. All you had to do was ... No, you couldn't. Not now that you were both vulnerable.

"What an honor to know you still care about me," you barely whispered, he tightened his lips into a single line, he wanted to speak, he wanted to stop you. He wanted to... He didn't know anymore either. You had entered the bathroom not knowing that he had followed you quickly. You had done everything in a hurry, not wanting to upset the masked men.

Water ran over your cold hands as you rubbed them under the rusty jet of the sink, trying desperately to concentrate on the monotonous noise that echoed in the small room. But the only presence you could feel was his.

He was there, standing still against the door, his arms crossed over his chest, his body relaxed in that silent arrogance that had always driven you crazy. His dark eyes watched you with an intensity that seemed to dig into you, making you feel vulnerable, as if he saw every thought hidden behind your impassive facade.

You knew he was watching you. He was devouring you with his eyes. You breathed deep, trying to find the voice to break that nerve-wracking wait.

"You can leave, you know"

The sound of your words echoed in the small room, but he did not move. Then he slowly left his position against the door and took a few steps toward you, slow, studied. Curse.

"Still playing hard to get" His voice was low, rough, with that undertone of danger you had come to know well. You felt your heart quicken as the reflection in the small mirror above the sink returned his figure to you, getting closer and closer. And then-the contact. His hands. Warm, sure, terribly familiar.

His hands rested on your hips with devastating naturalness, his fingers sliding lazily along the elastic of your sweatpants. A shiver ran down your spine, your breath jamming for an instant.

"Don't touch me. Back away," but you had arched your back so pathetically that your words betrayed themselves. He knew that your breathing had just changed. He knew that your body was already responding to his.

"Really?"

His tone was a challenge-laden whisper, his mouth close to your ear, his warm breath brushing against your skin. He moved even closer, his chest almost touching your back. The warmth of his body against yours made you shiver. And then, you felt it. His erection, how much he wanted you, and the tip of his thumb sliding slowly under the fabric of your panties. A very light, almost accidental touch.

You stiffened instantly, your fingers gripping around the edge of the sink tightly, as if it were the only thing holding you up.

"Stop it"

Nam Gyu smiled against your neck, a smile you couldn't see but felt all over.

"Lie"

His hand moved another inch, his fingers playing with the hem of the fabric, lazily caressing the soft skin beneath it. Your breath grew shorter, the heat spreading along your skin like a slow poison.

"You always said you hated it when I did that"

His voice was low, hypnotic, dangerously close.

"And I hate it." You tried to maintain control, to ignore the way your body responded to his touch. But he laughed softly, a deep sound that made you shudder.

"Stop your bullshit. Can't you hear how much I want you, bunny." That name. That damn name that had always made you melt.

You had bitten your lip, hating yourself for the way your body seemed to give out without you being able to stop it. Stop, stop, stop.

"Go away, Nam Gyu"

He did not move; rather, he let his lips barely graze the skin behind your ear, his hot breath making you tremble.

"Tell me you don't want this"

"Tell me you hate me"

You hated him. You hated him because he knew you would never say it. When his hand reached your opening, opening it with two fingers, your breath was ragged, you had rested your head on his shoulder you could see his face looking down at you.

"Is that a no?" he turned several times between your folds as he gave you pleasure and you closed your eyes. Maybe it was his twisted way of enjoying himself. Maybe he liked seeing you tremble under his intense gaze, knowing that he could destabilize you. Or maybe he simply wanted what he couldn't have.

"He's on you like a hungry dog," Nam Gyu had whispered, his voice low, laden with venom, as he kissed your neck. He was talking about Thanos, you knew; he was jealous because you were still his stuff.

"None of your business," you had replied, your heart pounding in your chest. He had removed his fingers from your pussy too quickly, grabbing your hair with a tug, you had already complained about his distance. "Yes it is my business. I see your face in my nightmares, I can't touch a woman after you anymore.... bunny, don't you understand?" his eyes were black, damned, you felt your intimacy melt deprived by your orgasm. But you were bursting.

"You reduce yourself to this! I am not a piece of meat! I loved you and you just exploited my weakness, my love to your liking!" before he could continue torturing you, his hand let go of your hair, you were looking at your bodies through the mirror, him behind you, and you trembling in front. Your pants slightly pulled down over your legs, his hand continuing to pull them down.

"You are more than a piece of meat"

"You didn't give me a way to think that, though" you had turned around, now you were face to face. His cheeks red, his eyes half-closed, as he grasped your cheeks with his palms as if to lock them in.

"Maybe we won't get out of here alive, bunny," he sighed, playing with your hair; it was the drug, you knew. "Maybe I'll die. But at least I was lucky enough to see you one last time"

"You're not in you. That's the drug talking"

Your still damp hands clenched against the fabric of his suit. You stared at him, your breath short, your eyes struggling to stay cold, not to betray the fire he always managed to ignite. He smiled. A game. Always the same, the one where he pushed and you tried to resist. Only this time the bathroom walls seemed to close in on you, the breath of both of you was too close, and the air was thick with something you could no longer ignore.

"You're always the same," he continued, his tone softer, almost bitter. "Always ready to say no to me"

You didn't know what to say, you were like stuck, still too shaken.

"You like to drive me crazy, don't you?"

You didn't have time to answer. His hands closed around your face, "Please, bunny, kiss me" It was that closeness you knew, it was that you couldn't stand it anymore, to say enough. It was the fear, the fear of dying in a place like that. It was too strong, and painful but his lips touched yours without any warning. It was a violent, hungry, angry kiss. No gentleness, no attempt to hold back. Just years of anger, repressed desire and unspoken words exploding all at once.

Your fingers slid into his hair, squeezing hard as his body pushed you against the sink again. Your mouths sought each other, taking, biting.

He moaned against your lips, his tongue sank deeper into your mouth, as if he wanted to claim you, as if he wanted to remind you that, in spite of everything, he had never really let you go.

And the worst of it was that you didn't want to stop him. Never. Not even when he turned you over for the second time, and bent you over the cold sink, his erection pressing against your butt was just yet another signal about how much he was treating himself. How many times he had dreamed that you were the woman he had between the sheets, your face, your hair, your lips.

"Nam Gyu," you had said, trying not to wince as he slid down your sweatpants and panties. His body was pressed against your bottom, his hair in front of his face and his hands clasped around your hips.

"Do you know how much I've missed you?" was a rhetorical question, sure enough, your head was foggy and your legs gave out. You were all wet, he found it funny. It was sloppy, all so fast, his breath on your neck and the tip of his cock already inside you. You lifted your butt higher toward him, because you wanted more, you were addicted, "Fuck"

"How I had missed your voice" he muttered, as his hand grabbed your hair, pulling you back toward him kissing your neck. You weren't protesting, you couldn't do anything more, you were exhausted and confused completely loose under him. His hands were everywhere, reaching for your breasts under your bra.

"Hurry the fuck up, I'm going crazy"

Your breath took away as he began to giggle and then grabbed you with far too much force as he fucked you in that fatal position. It was your head spinning, sweat soaked into your forehead. You felt it all, his tongue on your neck and moans against your ear. You were so hungry for him but so little in control of your person, "We are both doomed, you know, bunny"

"I know"

You had been struck by time, out of control, and for that night you had been his again. He couldn't get enough of it. Then a soft knock against the door. There were a few thrusts, unrestrained like animals possessing themselves. He stepped out of your frustrated womanhood, pulling your hair back from your neck and laying a chaste kiss on it. You had rested your head on the sink, your cheek flattened, and your face formulated a small smile. Your legs completely filled with him. You were cursed, yes. You were alive, again.

"I love you"

MASTERLIST.

#squid game #nam gyu x reader #nam gyu x you #nam gyu #player 124 #player 124 x reader #squid game x reader #smut #nam gyu smut #namgyu squid game #namgyu fanfic #namgyu smut #thanos #thanos x reader #squid game season 2 #player 124 smut #player 124 x y/n

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runninriot · 3 days ago

Text

The End Of Maybe

written for the @steddiebingo card prompt: proposal & @steddielovemonth day 1

rated: T | wc: 1.223 | tags: established relationship, emotional hurt/comfort, self-doubt, declarations of love, marriage proposal | also on ao3

“Do you ever regret it?” Eddie asks quietly, eyes locked on the ceiling while his fingers are tracing invisible patterns on the skin of Steve’s back.

“Regret what?”

Steve’s head is resting on Eddie’s chest, basking in the comfort of their shared body heat, still on his come down from an overdose of love-infused ecstasy. Enjoying his boyfriend’s closeness while his mind is happily drifting. Was drifting, until now. Now he’s alert, can sense the shift in Eddie’s mood, the gloomy aura suddenly surrounding him.

Eddie still hasn’t turned his gaze away from where it is fixed on nothing but white paint, stays unmoving even when Steve lifts his head to look at him.

“Baby? Talk to me. Tell me what’s going on in your head.”

For how talkative Eddie usually is, Steve has long since learned that his boyfriend can be eerily quiet when something is eating away at him. When he’s trying to come up with solutions on his own instead of sharing the burden. Over time, they’ve found a way to meet in the middle – with Steve giving Eddie the space and time he needs to sort through his thoughts and Eddie keeping his promise not to shut Steve out, to share what’s gnawing at him eventually.

“I mean,” Eddie starts, finally looking down to find Steve’s eyes, shifting so that they’re lying side by side, face to face. Still close despite the emotional distance Steve can feel like a physical wall between them.

“Do you sometimes regret choosing this over- something else?”

He’s being vague on purpose, not even trying to elaborate what he means and Steve knows why, understands what he’s saying either way. They had this conversation before, once, and ended up in a big fight, maybe their biggest one yet. Because at the time, it had felt like Eddie was trying to push him away, trying to talk him into something he didn’t want out of unfounded fear of Steve changing his mind one day. Having a hard time believing that he chose this life, not despite but because of what it would mean for his future.

For Steve, this has never been temporary; he’s always been all in. Wants to spend the rest of his days with Eddie, through the good and the bad and everything.

“Never,” Steve finally says, keeping his voice soft but making sure the message is clear, “I want this and nothing else. I love our life with everything we have. I love you. You know that, right?”

Without waiting for an answer, Steve leans in for a kiss, a firm press of lips to emphasise his words.

He knows it’s just a little bump in the road, just Eddie being in his head – it happens every now and then, it’s okay, nothing to really worry about. But still, Steve hates to see Eddie sad.

“I know you do, I just- I don’t know.”

Eddie sighs, buys himself time by stealing another tender kiss from his boyfriend, and Steve lets him get away with it.

“Where’s this coming from, baby? Did I do or say something that made you think I’ve changed my mind?”

“No! No, you did nothing, I- I guess I’m just scared.”

With one hand, Steve cups the side of Eddie’s face, thumb gently stroking over his cheekbone, not saying anything but patiently waiting for him to go on.

“I know you love me, that’s not what I’m worried about. I just sometimes wonder if it’s truly worth giving up so many of your dreams for this. For me.”

Steve knows what Eddie is referring to, even without him having to spell it out. It is true, there had been a time where Steve’s biggest dream was to have a wife and kids, a whole bunch of them, living a quiet small-town life with his picture-perfect family.

But that was before Eddie came along. Before he fell heart over head in love with a wonderful young man, with the prettiest smile and dark brown eyes that make him weak, still, after all those years. Sure, he’d be lying if he said he never asked himself that same question, wondering if being with Eddie was worth facing all the battles they had to fight. If loving Eddie was worth letting go of the future he’d always thought he wanted for himself.

But the answer is still the same as it has been for over 6 years now – yes. A thousand times yes. Because the truth is, he didn’t give up a dream, he created a new one. With Eddie at the centre of everything, he’s built a life that is better than anything he could’ve imagined.

Nothing compares to being loved by Eddie, and nothing could ever make this relationship any more perfect. Except maybe…

He shoots up so sudden it startles Eddie, who reluctantly obeys when Steve beckons him to sit.

“What-”

Steve doesn’t give him a chance to finish his sentence, presses the tip of his finger against Eddie’s lips to shut him up – not to be rude; he just needs him to listen to what he has to say before he loses his courage.

“You’re it for me, okay? You are everything I need to be happy and I- I want to grow old with you, want to spend the rest of my life with you. You are all I want, now and forever.”

Steve swallows roughly, has to take a few deep breaths, can already feel the burning of tears in his eyes.

Robin will lose her mind. Will probably also give him a lot of shit for doing it like this, here, in the isolated cocoon of their bedroom rather than making it the big, pompous surprise they always joked about in secret. When they talked about the hypothetical maybe of Steve proposing one day.

Truth is, Steve has been thinking about it a lot in the past, about asking Eddie to take this next big step with him. Not for the sake of making at least one of his younger self’s dreams a reality, but because he wants to be Eddie’s in every way possible. Is more than willing to give up a name that means nothing to him for one that means love and trust and family.

“Eddie, baby, will you marry me?”

He waits for the words to sink in, anxiously watching Eddie go through all the stages of understanding what Steve is asking him.

“Are you-” Realisation.

“Do you really-” Disbelief.

“You want to-” Reassurance.

“Oh my God, yes! YES!” Eddie finally answers with a trembling voice and eyes full of tears.

They’re both shedding tears of joy now, arms wrapped around each other, kissing, and smiling and kissing some more until just kissing is no longer enough. When the need to be closer overcomes them and whispered declarations of love and devotion turn into something a lot more obscene. When their bodies demand to become one in heated passion, euphoric and wild and sweet.

And when they come undone for the second time this night, it feels different in a way, new. Because it’s their first time as soon-to-be husbands. Falling apart together, with all their love carved into a promise to mark the end of maybe and the beginning of forever – no after – just them ‘til the end.

#eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie #steddie fic #steddiebingo2025 #steddielovemonth #prompt: proposal

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zeroseuniverse · 19 hours ago

Note

please give haneul's dad a love life 😔🙏 he's miserable, I can hear him sighing all day and night and I don't even live nearby. please help a young nurse be well fed with fluffy warm pancakes in the morning 🥹🥞

please make a silly old anonymous reader happy by writing a part 2 of "My Dad is Single!" ☝️

You ask and you shall receive my darling Asks are my number 1 priority so I typically try to only take 2-3 days in writing them, I enjoy providing what my readers want so I hope this came out in a timely manner for you!

My Dad Is Single II

S.Coups had no idea how he ended up here.

One moment, he was just a devoted single dad trying to survive his six-year-old's chaotic antics. The next, he was standing in his kitchen, flipping pancakes while Nurse Pretty—sat at his dining table, chatting with Haneul like they were old friends.

Haneul had orchestrated this whole thing, obviously. After her legendary text message, she had laughed it off but agreed to come over—"just for pancakes," she had said. But from the way she kept smiling at him over her coffee, he knew she was enjoying his flustered state way too much.

"So, Haneul," she said, resting her chin on her hand. "Tell me—why are you so determined to find your dad a girlfriend?"

Haneul sighed dramatically, like this was a burden only she could bear. "Because Appa is so lonely."

S.Coups groaned from the stove. "I am not—"

"He sighs all the time," Haneul interrupted. "Like, so much. And he watches sad movies at night."

She smirked. "Ah, the sighing. You told me about that before."

"Right?!" Haneul threw her hands up. "It’s a problem."

S.Coups turned around, pointing a spatula at his daughter. "You’re making me sound like a tragic drama lead."

"You are a tragic drama lead," Haneul said, dead serious. "But don’t worry! This is the episode where you find love again."

She burst out laughing while S.Coups slumped against the counter, defeated.

"Unbelievable," he muttered for what felt like the hundredth time.

"You say that a lot," She teased, taking a sip of her coffee.

"Because this keeps happening!" He gestured at Haneul, who was happily munching on a pancake like she hadn’t just thrown him under the bus.

She just smiled. "Well, I have to admit—this is probably the most unique way I’ve ever been asked out."

S.Coups nearly dropped the plate he was holding. "Wait—was this… an ask out?"

she tilted her head, pretending to think. "Well, I was invited to your house. You cooked for me. There’s a cute child who’s very invested in our future. Sounds like a date to me."

S.Coups blinked, completely thrown. "I—uh—what—"

Haneul leaned forward and stage-whispered to her , "He’s shy."

she grinned. "It’s cute."

S.Coups groaned again. "I am not shy!"

"You’re blushing," Haneul pointed out.

He pressed a hand to his face. Oh my God, I am.

She reached for a pancake, her smile softening. "Relax, S.Coups. I’m just teasing. But… I wouldn’t mind getting to know you better. If that’s something you’d be open to."

S.Coups stared at her, completely caught off guard. He hadn’t expected this. At all. And yet, with Haneul beaming up at him and her looking at him with those warm, patient eyes, he found himself… considering it.

Slowly, a small smile crept onto his face. "I guess… I wouldn’t mind either."

Haneul exploded into cheers, nearly knocking over her juice. "YES! Finally!"

she laughed, and S.Coups couldn’t help but chuckle too, shaking his head.

"Unbelievable," he muttered one last time—but this time, it felt different. Lighter. Like maybe, just maybe, his little drama lead moment was turning into a rom-com after all.

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lupinscoopin · 3 days ago

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I’d like to add books! Anidala, featuring some of my favorite moments (mostly from memory, so I might have missed some key ones):

- The speeder ride and date in Brotherhood

-Obi wan looking at Anakin and Padme interacting and being like “they are so damn obvious how does everyone else not see it?” also in Brotherhood

Bonus: Anakin and Padme trying not to be obvious how in love they are in Thrawn: Alliances despite Anakin spending days talking of nothing but rescuing Padme and Thrawn being one of the most observant characters in the universe (not that he needed his observation skills for this).

Second bonus: Sabe knowing Anakin and Padme are married and not just lovers about 30 seconds into her second conversation with Anakin.

- THIS QUOTE: “After a few days on Tatooine, I get why you hate sand so much,” she [Padme] said with a laugh before turning more thoughtful. “We come from different places, Ani. It informs so much of how we see the galaxy.” That moment was the only good thing to ever happen regarding sand.

- This whole quote from the Revenge of the Sith Novelization (credit to @keblava for the screenshot)

- Padme getting in trouble in Thrawn: Alliances and sending a covert message to “Uncle Anakin” because she knows he will move galaxies to get her safe.

-Anakin admitting he just says the words “Husband” and “Wife” out loud all the time when he’s alone at the Temple. (I refuse to believe no one’s never overheard him.)

And of course, we can’t forget the Vaderdala moment in Star Wars: From a Certain Point of View: The Empire Strikes Back, where Palpatine sees Vader daydreaming about ruling the galaxy with Padme and Luke >>>

Being an Anidala shipper means can’t help loving them in their different fonts 🤣

Official version (films.)

Clone Wars (2003) version

The Clone Wars (2008) version (at selective points only.)

Comic books version (Attack of The Clones graphic novel)

Lego Star Wars version

Extended material version

+ Toys/Merchandise version

Bonus: Topps card version!!

#anidala #star wars books #anakin skywalker #padmé amidala #revenge of the sith #anakin x padmé #these two are insane for each other #the amount of books I’ve read just for SCRAPS of anidala

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winchesterwild78 · 2 days ago

Text

The PE Teacher pt 2

Master List

Characters: Dean Winchester x Reader

Warnings: Angst, jealousy, fluff, SMUT

A/N: This was an idea given to me by @jackles010378. You and Dean start spending more time together. Trying to keep your professional and personal lives separate.

This is a work of fiction and does not depict real life. I don’t own the rights to any of these characters.

Does not follow the Supernatural Timeline.

Written fast and not edited well. Please overlook any errors.

Reblogs, comments and likes are appreciated.

Please don’t take my work and use it as your own or on any other platform.

Minors DNI 18+

The next few weeks Dean and I started to see each other almost every night after work.

Walking my students to their buses I noticed Dean was standing outside already at his afternoon duty station. His job was to help the pick ups get in their cars.

I had to walk past him to get the first set of students on the bus. “Good afternoon Ms Y/L/N.” He smiled. I smiled, “Good afternoon, Mr Winchester.” He winked and I blushed.

The kids took turns fist bumping him as they got on the bus.

I noticed a mom walking up and she made a beeline to Dean. I chuckled because they have all tried to get with him and nothing worked.

As I walked back towards the school I noticed the mom standing really close and her hand was on his arm.

I tried to ignore it but then I heard him laugh. The laugh he was famous for when he thought something was really funny. Head tilting backwards, full body laugh.

My eyes flicked up and a pang of jealousy shot through my body as I saw his hand brush against hers.

I went back inside the school to get my students who were pickups. I noticed the mom was still standing by Dean and my heart sank when I saw her hand him a piece of paper and he took it.

I was heartbroken. “Ms Y/L/N, there’s my mom. Can I go to her?” The sweet little voice broke me out of my head. “Um, yeah sweetie. Go to Mr Winchester, he’ll put you in the car.”

I saw her walk over and her mom pulled up. Dean helped her in the car and his head turned and he looked at me. I couldn’t look at him so I turned my attention to my students.

The rest of the dismissal was a blur. The mom stood beside Dean the whole time. When her daughter came out she still stayed. Dean talked and it looked like they were bantering back and forth. I felt sick.

Karie walked up, “Looks like Ms Mackie snagged Dean. I swear I thought the two of you would get together.”

I softly chuckled, “Yeah. Me too.” I gave Dean one last look and went back inside.

The tears in my eyes threatened to fall, but I bit my lip to keep them at bay. I packed my bag and headed to my car.

Walking out the front door of the school I heard Dean call my name but I kept walking.

“Y/N, wait.” I hear him call before I make a beeline to my car. I hear the door click behind me and then open in haste.

“Y/N wait!” I stopped and turned. The tears burning my eyes. “Sweetheart, what’s wrong? You look upset.”

I softly scoffed. “I’m fine. I’m tired.” “Okay, well I’ll be over later.” He smiled and touched my arm.

I pulled away and as I turned to leave I said, “Don’t bother.”

Dean stood frozen in place in shock. “What, why?”

“Dean, this was a mistake. I need to go.”

Dean stood outside my car dumbfounded. He went back inside to find Karie. “Hey, Karie. Is Y/N okay? I just saw her in the parking lot and she looked upset. Did she say anything to you?”

“No, not really. We saw you and Ms Mackie at dismissal, but other than that no. I told her I thought the two of you would get together and she said so did she.”

Dean’s heart sank. He knew he messed up. He just didn’t want to cause a scene and was being polite. He threw the note away once he got inside. “Thanks Karie. I appreciate it.”

She nodded and Dean grabbed his stuff and headed to my place.

I walked in my house and sat my stuff down. The tears I’d been fighting started to fall. Dean kept trying to call and message me but I couldn’t talk to him right now.

I went to my bedroom and changed my clothes, putting on my sweatpants and oversized shirt.

I walked in the kitchen to pour a glass of wine and there was a knock at the door.

I sat the glass down and went to answer it.

Looking through the peephole I saw Dean. Still dressed in his work clothes. I took a deep breath and opened the door.

Dean’s eyes met mine and his face fell. “Sweetheart, I’m so sorry. I would never hurt you. I was being polite to the mom. As soon as I got in the school I threw the note away. I have no idea what it says.”

“Dean, I saw you with her. You touched her and the two of you were bantering back and forth. I get it, I’m your dirty secret. We can’t let anyone know the hot PE teacher is dating the frumpy Kindergarten teacher.”

“No, baby. Don’t say that about yourself. You’re beautiful and all I want.”

I scoffed, “Dean it’s fine. I get it. This was just fun for you, a way to pass the time. You’re free to date whoever you want. It’s not like we put a label on us.”

I started to close the door and he stuck his foot in, blocking it.

“Y/N, don’t be like that. You’re not a dirty secret. I just figured we’d keep our relationship to ourselves so problems don’t arise at work.”

I scoffed, “Problems? Oh like ruining your chances with the hot moms. I get it Dean. I’m exhausted and just want to lay down. Please move your foot.”

He sighed heavily, “Please don’t do this. I really like you.”

I couldn’t look at him, my heart was broken. Every single guy I liked, let in always broke my heart. There was always someone prettier, skinnier, sexier than me.

“Dean, please just go.” A tear slipped down my cheek. Dean’s hand came up and cupped my face. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I really am.” He wiped the tear away and placed a kiss on my forehead.

He sighed, turned and walked away. I closed the door with a click and cried.

Leaning against the door, sobs shook my body.

There was something about Dean that made me feel safe.

Dean hadn’t walked far when he heard my sobs. His heart sank. Dean knew he had to fix this, but he wasn’t sure how.

The weekend passed by in a fog. I barely left the couch. The events from Friday playing in my head. Monday morning my alarm blared and I didn’t want to go to work.

How could I face him after this? At least we haven’t had sex yet or said I love you.

Walking into the school the halls echoing with the sounds of my shoes hitting the floor.

I walked into my classroom and turned on the lights. Sitting on my table were two dozen long stemmed red and pink roses.

I gasped softly. About fifteen minutes later my students were coming in. They were each carrying a piece of paper and it confused me.

“What do you guys have?” They giggled as they handed their paper to me. After the last one came through the door I put the papers together.

I read the papers and tears pricked my eyes.

“Ms Y/N Y/L/N-The Hot Kindergarten Teacher, I don’t want to hide you. I really like you and I want you to be my girlfriend. What do you say?

Mr Dean Winchester-The Hot PE Teacher

I smiled and looked up to see Dean standing at my classroom door with a pink and red rose.

“What do you think, sweetheart?” Tears fell from my eyes and down my cheeks.

I leaped into his arms, “Yes!” He kissed my lips softly and the kids said “eww”. We pulled apart laughing.

His hands cupped my face, “sweetheart, I told you you’re not a dirty secret. I want everyone to know I’m yours and you’re mine.”

I hugged him tightly and he kissed the top of my head. “I’ll see you after work, okay?” I nodded and he kissed me one last time before leaving.

Later that afternoon the school was buzzing with what happened with Dean and I earlier. Karie and Tiffany wanted details and wanted to know why I kept it from them. I explained we wanted to keep it between ourselves, but I promised to keep them in the loop.

I stopped at the store on the way home to grab stuff for dinner. Dean was coming over and I wanted to cook for him. I grabbed an apple pie from the bakery for dessert.

Arriving home I got changed and started cooking. Dean volunteers after school on Monday to help coach the peewee basketball team, so I knew I had plenty of time to cook and have it ready for when he came over.

The aroma of baked chicken and garlic herb potatoes filled the kitchen. The timer on the oven dinged, indicating the food was done. I pulled the pan out of the oven. Closing the oven I heard a knock on the front door.

I smiled and answered the door. Dean was standing there wearing dark jeans, a dark blue Henley and a flannel.

I bit my lip on instinct. He pulled me into a hug and he smelled heavenly.

When he pulled back he kissed my lips, “Hey, sweetheart. You look beautiful.” My cheeks filled with a rosy hue as I smiled.

“You look pretty nice yourself, Winchester.”

I stepped to the side so he could come in. He looked over his shoulder and smiled, “It smells amazing in here.” “Thank you, I hope you’re hungry.”

He turned and his eyes flashed with lust, “I’m starving.” He pulled me into a searing kiss. It turned heavy and passionate quickly.

Dean’s hands slid up my back and into my hair. His fingers laced around my hair and pulled me deeper into the kiss. When we pulled apart our lungs screaming for air as our chests rose and fell in tandem. Trying to take in the air we needed.

Dean’s fingers brushed against my lips and across my cheeks, “You are so beautiful and I missed you so much.” I leaned into his touch, “I missed you too. Come on, let’s eat before it gets cold.”

He nodded and our fingers interlaced each other as we walked to the table. Dean pulled out my chair and then took his seat. “Sweetheart, this looks amazing. Thank you.” “You’re welcome. I hope you like it, and save room for dessert. I got pie.”

His eyes darted up to mine, “Pie?! Oh wow, a girl after my heart.” “You better believe it, Winchester.”

As we ate we talked about the day and the past few days. We made a promise to each other to always talk things out. I promised I would work hard at not letting my past trauma affect how I communicate with him. He promised to pull back on the charm, well towards others.

When dinner was cleaned up, Dean and I made our way to the couch. He pulled me close and we kissed. Dean held me tight and I straddled his thighs.

Dean gasped softly and I smirked. Leaning forward I placed a soft kiss on Dean’s lips. Pulling his bottom teeth gently between my teeth. Things turned heated quickly.

Dean’s hands slid up my body and back down to my hips. His strong hands held my hips in place against his groin. I could feel his hardness through his jeans and mine.

His fingers played with the hem of my shirt and I nodded. A silent plea met with a silent yes. Dean’s calloused fingers slid under the hem of my shirt and made their way up to my breasts. His fingers leave a trail of goosebumps in their wake.

My breath hitched as his hands made their way to my breasts. Dean’s hands slipped around and unhooked my bra. Dean’s eyes met mine as he placed a kiss on my lips.

He removed my shirt and bra. Biting his lip he took in my exposed flesh. Dean’s breath hitched. “You’re so beautiful.”

Dean leaned forward and I helped remove his shirt. My hands rested softly on his firm chest. My fingers laid against his flesh and I saw a shiver run through his body.

My eyes met his in a pleading look. I needed him, no I wanted him and I knew he wanted me too.

Dean’s lips kissed down my torso. One hand gently cupping my breast while his mouth kissed, sucked and licked the other. His tongue flicked my hardened nipple as his teeth gently bit it. Pulling a moan from my lips.

I could feel the heat pooling between my thighs. “Dean, I’m ready.” His green eyes turned darker with lust, “Are you sure sweetheart?”

I nodded and stood, taking his hands and pulling him up with me.

Our fingers intertwined as I led him to the bedroom.

Once inside the room Dean gently laid me back on the bed as his strong arms caged me under him.

His lips pressed against mine and he worked his way down my torso. A chill went through me as he got to the hem of my pants.

His green orbs darker with lust, looked up to mine. I nodded. His fingers grabbed my hips and made their way to my zipper. I lifted my hips off the bed as he slid my pants down, leaving me in my soaked panties.

Dean positioned himself between my thighs. His strong hands parting my legs, exposing my soaked panties to him. He grinned as he looked down. My face flushed red with heat.

“Can I?” He asked in his deep, whiskey smooth voice.

“Yes, Dean.” I swallowed hard. My body trembled under his touch. My breathing shaky as I looked into his eyes.

His fingers hooked my panties and pulled them down. Dean’s calloused hands ran back up my leg and held my thighs in place.

He licked his lips, “I can’t wait to taste you.” I nodded, giving him the permission he needed.

The first contact of his hot breath on my soaked core had my body shaking. The anticipation filled my very soul and my body throbbed with excitement.

His head disappeared between my thighs and as his tongue made contact I arched my hips up and moaned.

My hands instinctively went into his hair. He began lapping at my pussy like a man starved. Placing love bites on my inner thigh and on my clit.

I moved my hips with him and before too long I was feeling my insides coil tightly. Ready to break at any moment.

“Oh yes, Dean! Fuck.. don’t stop.” My please stuttering from my lips as my head began to spin. He took one hand and slid two fingers inside me. Causing a moan from my lips.

“That’s right, baby girl. You take me so well.” His praise turned me on more. He sucked, licked and nibbled my clit as I moved closer to my release.

“Dean…. I’m….close.” I grabbed his hair and then the sheets. Not knowing what to hold on to as he thrusted me over the edge and my release hit hard.

So hard I was seeing stars. Dean smirked and a light chuckle fell from his lips. He leaned forward and kissed my lips, I could still taste my release on his lips.

I looked at him and smirked, “You’re overdressed, Mr. Winchester.” My eyes flicked down to his pants. I could see his hard member straining against his pants. I bit my lip.

He stood and unbuttoned his pants, sliding them down over his thick thighs and removed them. His boxers contained his hard cock and I wanted it to be freed.

I leaned forward and placed my hands on his thighs, pulling him closer to the bed. Our eyes met and he smirked. My fingers hooked into the waistband and he nodded.

Sliding his boxers down, his hard cock sprang free. I gasped slightly as I took in the sight of his perfectly toned body. My breath hitched.

“Like what you see?” I nodded.

I laid back, pulling him down with me. I felt his cock pushing against my thigh as he kissed me.

“Dean, I need you. Please baby.” Dean positioned himself between my thighs and grabbed a condom. He tore the pack open with his teeth and slid it down his hard shaft.

Lining himself up he pushed his cock head into my entrance. As he pushed in we both gasped.

My hands gripped his arms and his hands held my hips. Pushing every inch in he stilled for a moment.

Our eyes connected as he kissed my lips. “You feel so good baby.” I moved my hips, silently asking him to move.

He pulled out and pushed back in. Our hips connected together and again he pulled back and in again.

Dean set a slow, steady pace. Our moans and pants filled the room. The bed squeaked with each thrust.

My back arched off the bed as Dean picked up my legs and changed the position. His cock hitting my cervix as his long, thick cock filled me to the brim.

My walls stretched and wrapped around him. Each thrust took me closer to another release.

He felt so good inside me. His lips kissed my body, leaving love bites and marking me as his.

As my walls squeezed tighter I felt his thrusts speed up. “Dean..oh fuck! I’m gonna cum again.”

“Me too baby. Cum for me. Let me feel you fall apart on my cock.” Within a second I was cumming hard.

He groaned as my walls grabbed ahold of his cock. Dean pushed deeper and harder in me and with a grunt I felt his cock twitch and empty his seed in the condom.

Dean stilled and as he pulled out he rested his forehead on mine and kissed my lips.

He climbed out of bed to clean himself up and when he returned he brought a cloth to clean me up.

Grabbing the sheet he pulled it over us and I laid against his chest. His arms wrapped around me and a fog of euphoria washed over me.

I looked up at him. Looked into his beautiful green eyes, so full of warmth and love. I smiled softly and whispered, “I love you, Dean.”

Dean gasped softly and took a shaky breath. His mind exploded with the words and thought of the vulnerability of the moment.

Taking a deep breath he lifted my chin, kissed my lips and whispered against them, “I love you, too.”

Tags are open, if you want to be added or removed, let me know.

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@k-slla @jackles010378

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@jassackles @chriszgirl92

@suckitands33 @arcannaa

@n-o-p-e-never @ladysparkles78

@smoothdogsgirl @hobby27

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@deans-baby-momma @deansimpalababy

@ladykitana90 @quietgirll75

@superrey @kamisobsessed

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@angelbabyyy99 @jaredpadonlyyyy

#hes gorgeous #so damn sexy #dean winchester #dean winchester x plus size!reader #dean x reader

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tangerineastronaut · 20 hours ago

Note

Hi! I saw you take requests.

May I request something with GOT7 Jackson Wang and best friend!reader, in which the reader starts developing feelings for him and start thinking he’s the one for her? <3

Friends, Just for Now | Jackson Wang

Pairing: Jackson Wang (GOT7) x Fem!Reader Genre: Fluff, BestFriend!Reader, idiots to lovers Requested: Yes w.c. 6.6k (oops) Warnings: Cheating (not between jackson and reader), lots of profanity, nicknames, namecalling, minor injury, reader wouldn't know love if it smacked her in the head, holy shit they're kind of annoying af A/N: this was so fun to write, love me a good idiots friends to lovers. I'm also cheesy af, feel free to call me out. Please excuse any errors there may be, I usually proofread after posting. ❣️The love I received on my yunho imagine has literally made me do happy dances, I haven't posted anything on tumblr in 8 years and you guys are just literally the best. I love you all so much! Requests: Open (link below)

Requests | WIPs Masterlists: BTS | ATEEZ | GOT7 | Stray Kids

🎧 FRI(END)S by V

“Come on, pie, I told you this was gonna happen. You never listen.”

Two things went through your mind, though you refused to lift your head from where it was tucked against your knees.

One, you hated that nickname. Pie. He thought it was so cute, and it probably would’ve died off had you not reacted to it the way you did. One missed smear of cherry on your nose 3 years ago and suddenly you’ve been christened. It was his favorite story to tell.

And two, Jackson Wang was going to get his shit rocked if he didn’t leave you alone.

“Fuck off,” you say bitterly, pulling further into yourself.

He was right. He had warned you.

You’d hoped Leejin was different, that the rumors were just exaggerated. Surely he didn’t cheat on every girlfriend…right?

“Wrong,” Jackson had laughed. “He’s a fucking dog, y/n.”

You’d rolled your eyes, and then Jackson said three words to you that had kind of hurt. Not kind of. A lot. They’d hurt a lot.

“You’re not special.”

Leejin was so nice, he was smart and funny and headed for a successful career with his family’s business (so what if his parents probably paid off the school to make sure those student conduct violations never stuck). You wanted to be special. Spent 4 months trying to be. It wasn't an eternity, but you tended to put your whole heart into everything, and it almost always ended up like this.

But Jackson’s words rang true, painfully so, when you received a text from an unknown number earlier today—screenshots of messages between Leejin and some girl, including explicit photos. The unnamed person had said nothing else; you wondered if it was the girl from the screenshots, but you didn’t reply. You simply texted Leejin to go fuck himself before blocking him on everything, running straight home to your apartment, praying that Jackson wasn’t there. He was, of course, as you split the rent. You hated the look on his face when you barged in, nose red and snotty from crying.

It wasn’t smug, it was just…"come on, pie, I told you this was gonna happen."

You heard him sigh now, no doubt running a hand through his hair. It was blonde; you’d made fun of him at the time he'd dyed it though begrudgingly had to admit it suited him. But he was going to be bald before he was 40 if he didn’t stop tugging at it when he was stressed.

“Hey. Hey, stop. I hate it when you cry, you know, makes my joints hurt or something,” he says, kneeling beside you.

The fuck…? What does that even—

But you were too upset to stop, so he muttered under his breath, poking at your head until you whipped it up to slap him away. He looked like such a boy, hugging his knees and giving you a pleading look. Fine. Bastard.

You sighed and uncurled yourself, your knees screaming from the pain of turning into a human rollie pollie for the last half hour. Jackson sighed as well, no doubt relieved that you weren’t ugly crying anymore.

He waited until your sniffles were a few minutes apart before moving, sitting criss cross on the floor. His brown eyes were soft, a rarity, truly, though you knew he was already formulating ways to tease you about this when it was more irritating than painful.

“Done?” he asks, more to comfort himself than you. You sniff and nod, wiping your nose on your sleeve. Well, his sleeve. He made a face, realizing that you were wearing one of his sweatshirts, but made the apparent decision to yell at you later.

“Don’t be mean to me,” you mumble, resting your cheek on your knee.

“When am I ever?”

“Jackson, I swear to fucking—”

“I didn’t say anything, pie.”

“If you don’t drop that god damned nickname, it was one time, one little bit of cherry filling, I don’t even like cherry pie, you’re so fucking annoying—”

It was his turn to interrupt, but he didn’t. He just watched you, an irritating twinkle of amusement in his eyes. You scoffed and tucked your face away again, wishing he’d stop looking at you like that. Or at all, really. If there was one thing you’d learned after being friends with him for so long…the asshat had some eyes on him. Had this way of using his gaze to set the mood, able to stop your arguments or rile you up with micro expressions like an olympic gold medalist of manipulation.

“Want some ramen?” he asks, tilting his head as though speaking to a kicked dog. You crinkle your nose without looking at him. “Want some cake? Some candy?”

“I want you to leave me alone,” you grumble.

“Want a bath?”

You sigh, refusing to humor him with an answer he already had. He snapped his fingers like he’d just solved the equation of the century, having the audacity to ruffle your hair as he stepped over you unnecessarily to get to the door. You could hear him down the hall, the sound of the bathroom cabinets opening and closing, the water running, hopefully set on hot like you liked.

“You're out of bath bombs,” he called. You frown.

“I’m not, they’re under the sink.”

“Why’d you move them? Next to your menstrual equipment, eww.”

That’s why. You felt sorry for whatever unfortunate woman Jackson decided to wife up—the man was addicted to hot baths and cotton candy bath bombs. You’d have to move them again though, now that he knew about your stash. Besides, you’d sent him to the shop more than a few times when you were cramping and out of pads (and chocolate); he would not be impeded by them.

Jackson was waiting for you by the time you dragged yourself to the small shared bathroom. He bowed dramatically, gesturing toward the tub which was steaming hot, as you liked—a meal’s gotta cook.

You mumble a thank you as he walks past, though he pauses in the doorway, eyes narrowed.

“Get naked, and give me my damn sweatshirt,” he says, pointing accusingly at you. You pout, immediately clutching your pearls.

“Is that why you never get laid? Jesus, would’ve thought you were smoother than that,” you huff. He impatiently tugs at your sleeve, rolling his eyes in that sassy way that always made you giggle and made him more irritated—a win win scenario.

“It’s a $30 shirt, not a snot rag…pie.”

“You’re a snot rag,” you mumble. You turn your back to him, crossing your arms at the hem and tugging it over your head. You were still in a bra thankfully, though still covered your chest as you tossed the material at him.

Jackson caught it smoothly, though he wasn’t even looking at the sweatshirt. You didn’t realize he was looking at you until you reached for the button of your jeans. His eyes weren’t lower than your lips, but he looked a little…off. You expected a joke about a food baby or maybe how pale you’ve gotten, but he says nothing.

“Hello?” you say, shaking your head. “Is that all? Want my pants too? Gonna do my laundry for a change?”

Jackson blinks like his brain finally returned to his skull. He bit the inside of his cheek, shaking his head and backing out of the doorway. Before he closed the door, however, his eyes leveled with yours, so intense it made your breath catch in your throat. Was he mad? Over a sweatshirt?

“Leejin is a fucking idiot,” he says before turning on his heel and heading down the hall.

You stare at the spot where he stood, even after he’s gone. The hell was his problem now?

By the time you’ve finished your glorious bath, you waltz into the living room like a princess. Jackson looks up from his place on the sofa, deadpanning and tossing his phone on the coffee table as he takes in the freshly purloined hoodie you're sporting.

“Gonna lock my closet,” he says, shaking his head. You beam at him, cutely crinkling your nose as you pad to the kitchen. You tug open the fridge, thinking maybe you could cook something simple for the two of you. It was kind of late to make anything grand, but you wanted more than ramen.

The empty shelves make your eye twitch.

“Seriously?” you huff, gesturing around. “Would it kill you to get groceries once?”

“You always complain when I do,” Jackson shrugs, flicking through netflix with the remote. “Got the wrong brand, got too many, didn’t get enough—”

“I always text you a detailed list, but whatever,” you grumble, low enough that it doesn’t provoke a response. “Since you’re a big man baby incapable of buying groceries, you can buy us something at the convenience store.”

“I am perfectly capable, thank you,” Jackson says, narrowing his eyes.

“Of what? Weaponized incompetence? I agree, get dressed,” you hum.

Ten minutes later, you’re walking side by side down to the convenience store. The apartment’s location was perfect—five minutes from campus one way, five to a 24 hour convenience store another. Perfect because you both had a habit of wanting to come home when you were drunk after a party, starved and craving foods that you’d regret the next day.

The doors chimed a welcome as they slid open, allowing you inside. You made a beeline for the sweets, Jackson went straight for the energy drinks.

You perused the aisle for a few minutes, making your choice and going to find your roommate. You rounded the corner and froze.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t possible to block someone in real life. So while you’d never see Leejin’s social media posts, it didn’t mean that you wouldn’t run into him on a saturday night at the convenience store near your apartment.

You feel a mix of emotions—anger, shame, disbelief among them. You knew it wasn’t impossible, it wasn’t even unlikely, as this store was one of only a few. But it felt so damn unfair that he’d happen to be here, hours after you found out about what he’d done.

“Is that all you’re getting?” Jackson snorts, frowning as he eyes your bag of chips. But he notices your stillness, following your gaze to see Leejin, casually chatting on the phone as he looks at the protein bars.

You expect him to snort, maybe make a comment just loud enough for the other to hear before pulling you away, but Jackson surges forward so quickly he nearly knocks you over. You grab his arm, both to steady him and stop him from…whatever the hell he’s doing.

“Where are you going?” you whisper, tugging him back with as much strength as you could muster.

“He broke your heart and I’m gonna break his fucking face.”

He moves again, this time dragging you along on the linoleum floor. Fortunately, Leejin is too preoccupied with his call to notice. The thought makes your stomach twist, briefly wondering who he’s talking to.

“You’re gonna get us kicked out, what’s the matter with you?” you hiss, trying to shake sense into him. Jackson yanks his arm away from you, dropping the energy drinks on the nearest shelf before storming off. You stare after him, mouth agape in disbelief.

You arrive home 15 minutes later, having hid near the bathrooms until Leejin had left. You’d bought (and paid for, irritatingly) your snacks and Jackson’s drinks, but when you shove into the apartment, it’s empty. Lights off, no sign of him. You worry for a few seconds—had he waited for you and bumped into Leejin instead? But you surely would’ve heard something outside. You opt to text him and choose to believe he’s being broody and walking through the streets like a sad music video.

> what the fuck? is your deal? Where are you??

You’re confused and groggy when someone taps at your cheek, not realizing you’d even fallen asleep on the couch. You rub at your eyes, squinting, processing the sight of Jackson standing over you, t-shirt stuck to his form, beads of sweat rolling down his cheeks.

You’ve had weird dreams about him before, ones that you’d rather never speak of again, and they usually start out like this. But this Jackson rolls his eyes in a way that sweet, sweet dream Jackson would never.

“Get up, jesus. Your back is going to hurt,” he says. You slowly sit up, realizing he’s right. Apparently not only had you fallen asleep on the couch, but you’d fallen asleep sitting up, sleeping in an unnatural slouched position.

“Ow…”

“Told you.”

“No it’s…hey,” you snap, waking up a bit more now that you remember that you’re actually pissed at him. “It’s your fucking fault, what happened to you? You just disappeared! I was worried!”

You’re surprised to see Jackson bristle. He’s not shaken easily, least of all by you, but he glances to the side and tugs at his t-shirt, separating it from his damp skin.

“Went to the gym. Figured I should cool off,” he says. You want to be pissed at him more, say something else, but your back hurts and you’re sleepy. Plus, you’re glad to see he’s alright. Mostly.

“Whatever,” you finally grumble, trying to stretch out your neck. “What time is it?”

“Dunno, around 2 a.m.,” he replies casually. “I’m gonna shower.”

“Great,” you huff. “You go shower. I’ll go roll over and die happy now that I know you’re alive.”

You stumble down the hall to your room, sighing at the sight of your unmade bed. What was the point if you were going to mess it up anyway? You hear Jackson follow shortly after, the bathroom door opening and closing. The shower starts, and you shuffle beneath the covers.

You wake up not long after, whining in protest as you’re jostled.

“It’s me,” Jackson says, rudely pushing you over. “Scoot.”

You wanted to shove him away, to point out that “scoot” should be said before you rob someone of their bed, but you can’t be bothered. Besides, once he settles next to you, you realize that he’s not wearing a shirt and he smells nice and clean.

Sleepy, groggy, annoyed, relieved, you curl against him like a bunny seeking warmth. You feel him stiffen, though you think little of it.

“What are you doing?” he asks, not sounding the least bit tired. You couldn’t say the same for yourself, unable to open your eyes as you reply.

“Mm. ‘s warm down here. Night night.”

You hear him sigh, then shuffle, and then he’s rolled over to face you, offering a human-made cocoon that you happily burrow into. He’s soft and warm and smells like his manly body wash—and your shampoo, damn it.

“Goodnight, y/n,” he says, soft enough to count but not enough for you to notice.

Waking up tangled with Jackson was, unfortunately (?), not all that unusual. When you were upset, you found your way to his bed, and despite his protests you knew he didn't actually mind. It went both ways—you'll die before you admit that you like it, if only because he's a human heater.

You still feel groggy, squinting and fumbling around for your phone. Such a task is difficult when there's deadweight slung over your waist, but you manage, bringing the device to your face.

10:43 a.m.

Oh good. You slept 8 hours—and half the day away, to your brain at least. You toss your phone down, debating whether or not you should just go back to sleep. You choose instead to roll over, addressing the sleeping shirtless man keeping you pinned to your bed.

Your camera roll was filled with photos just like this, because Jackson slept like a baby. Literally. Hands curled into fists, face relaxed, head tilted to the side. His blonde hair is mussed from sleeping with it wet last night, and you dodn't hesitate to run your fingers through it for no reason at all. It was soft and surprisingly thick, but you weren't about to dial back on the baldness theory.

Jackson stirred, though didn't wake up, shifting to lie on his back. Freed from your restraints, you sat up and had to cover your mouth to stifle a laugh.

Of course the curtains parted like that, of course he was sleeping like a prince now, sunlight arcing off of his jaw—it even highlighted his stubble in an annoyingly poetic way. What kind of gods were kind enough to give him of all people that face?

He really was kinda...pretty.

No, not kinda. Jackson Wang was beautiful. You were his best friend, but you weren't blind. Maybe you'd become a little numb to his charms, but you'd seen what he could do to people with just a look, even without malicious intent. He was charismatic on top of that, though you were the only one who got to see the side of him that wasn't.

The side that stole your shampoo and commandeered your bed, anyway.

So fine, you knew he was pretty. But he was kinda sorta extra pretty right now, and maybe you wanted to remember it later.

You shifted to grab your phone—a never-ending quest for material to bully each other over—but the movement apparently jostled him awake. You sheepishly smiled as he blinked a few times, using the heel of his palm to rub the blurriness away.

"Really?" he asked, voice rough, eyes leveling to the phone in your hand. "Fucking creep."

"You have like a thousand pictures of me sleeping," you point out, narrowing your eyes. Jackson nods, rolling over and hugging your waist, his head resting against your hip.

"That I do—you're cute when you drool all over yourself. I'm working on a collage."

"Asshole," you mutter, prying his arms off of you. You make an attempt to escape, but as expected, you're smoothly hauled back down.

"Where you going?"

"I need to pee, wanna come with?"

"It's early."

"It's almost 11."

"Yeah, early."

Jackson grunts before you can reply, practically placing you in a chokehold as he rolls over. You have no choice but to go with him, ending up flopped over his chest like a dead fish.

He says nothing for a moment, and you wonder if he's fallen back asleep. It's not difficult to squirm out of his grasp this time, though rather than allowing you to slide off, the apparently-awake-Jackson moves both hands to your hips.

Your stomach does that funny thing it sometimes does around him, like a little alarm that says 'hey! getting too close!' Listening to this alarm had prevented a lot of mistakes over the course of your friendship, mistakes like wanting to kiss him when you were tipsy, noticing the way he looked after a long workout, hair plastered to his forehead, the fuzziness you felt that time your heating pad broke, and his warm hands wound up on the lower half of your tummy to stave off the cramps.

Mistakes like that.

His eyes open again, and you do your best to look irritated.

"I'm sorry about last night," he says, suddenly unnaturally serious. "I was just trying to cool off, and my phone died, so I didn't see your text until after I got home."

You're not really sure how to respond—it was always strange when conversations got like this between you, regardless of the topic. It was so jarring, so far from the usual cracked out nonsense. You decided to nod, then shake your head, then nod again.

Jackson was a badass, most people knew as much. He was trained in martial arts and practically ate protein for every meal. But despite this, he wasn't typically an aggressive guy. You'd only ever seen him throw one punch—an ex of yours a couple years ago who threatened to post a nude photo of you. Needless to say, the guy deleted them, made difficult thanks to the blood smearing his screen as it dripped from his nose.

"It's fine, I get it," you say. "Just...why were you so mad at him? Did he do something to you?"

Jackson blinks up at you, shifting so that he's partially sitting up on his elbows.

"I told you, y/n," he says, shaking his head like you're an idiot. "He broke your heart, I was gonna break his face. You should've let me get one hit in at least."

"He didn't break my heart," you groan, rolling your eyes. "It wasn't that serious, you know that. We'd only been dating for 4 months."

"...I watched you cry for an hour because someone stepped on a worm—"

"—that's different. It's literally a living little creature, what if that's someone's girlfriend, hm? What if she asked her boyfriend 'would you still love me if I was a worm' and he said yes except now they can't live wormily ever after because she's smushed all because some horrible person can't be bothered to step aside for a worm?"

Jackson stared up at you, blinking slowly, looking 175% done with your shit.

"What the fuck is wormily ever after?"

You sigh, leaning forward until your head is on his bare shoulder. You have half a mind to bite him, though you resist. You will be civil—for now.

"I don't know," you mumble. "No early birds, no hot sidewalks?"

"I....you're so fucking weird."

"Lots of guys are dickheads, but you were ready to knock him out. Really, Jackson, was that all? Promise he didn't say something to you?" you ask, voice muffled against his warm skin. Just one lil munch. It'd be good payback for him scaring the hell out of you last night.

Jackson exhales, and there's suddenly a hand tugging at your tangled mess of bedhead until you're sitting up, looking down at him.

"I wanted to kick his ass for the same reason that I never bring anyone home," he says quietly. His eyes are serious, no sparkle of humor in them, and it makes your stomach twist. You didn't like it when Jackson got serious.

"What? Because of me?" you ask. "I don't care who you fuck as long as I don't have to cook them breakfast."

Mostly true—you were afraid of walking out of your bedroom one morning and running into a really pretty girl, someone with perfect grades and clear skin, who has the audacity to be beautiful and nice. Someone only Jackson deserves. But you leave that bit out and give him a half teasing smile.

Jackson doesn't return it. He grunts, moving his hand up to tug at his hair. You slip yours beneath his, mumbling for him to stop doing that.

"You really don't?" he finally asks, swallowing hard enough that you see his throat move.

"Don't what?"

"You don't care who I fuck?"

His question catches you off guard, though not as much as the fact that he still looks dead serious. This seems like something the two of you should be laughing over—not something to talk about whilst you're currently straddling your best friend in your bed, who happens to be naked from the waist up.

"I mean...no?" you say, shaking your head in confusion. "Should I?"

"I don't know, should you?"

Should you? What the hell was that supposed to mean? You didn't like riddles, and this felt like one. You'd tried to stay out of his business over the four years you've been friends, though come to think of it...you'd never met any of his girlfriends after the first six months. You'd assumed he was so busy with classes and his extracurriculars that there just wasn't much time for anything past shallow hookups.

But...you couldn't remember a single time that had occurred. He was home every night, never brought company over for that purpose.

"Jackson," you say quietly, palms resting on his chest. When the hell did he get so muscular? There was a noticable firmness beneath your fingers, and you briefly considered billing Leejin for your services in making sure he didn't get the shit beat out of him. "I feel like this is an inside joke and I'm out of the loop. You're upset? Why?"

"Why would I be?" he counters, irritatingly smooth. The hands on your hips squeeze once, like he's trying to talk to you in morse code. It's annoying.

"Quit," you mumble, biting your lower lip. "I'm trying. Stop being mean and just tell me."

He sighs, moving a hand to his face.

"If you don't already know, then it doesn't matter, alright?"

"Wh—"

You're cut off as he suddenly shifts from beneath you, leaving you tumbling to the sheets when he stands. Just like the last two times for some damn reason, he prepares to storm out of the room.

"Jackson, wait—shit."

You trip over the edge of your nightstand, catching yourself on your hands. Your lamp tumbles to the floor, thankfully not shattering on the carpet. Still, the ache brings tears to your eyes, and you bite the inside of your cheek as you sit down.

"How many times have I told you to push that against the wall!?" Jackson says, rushing over to you. You lean back against your bed, grimacing as you look at your knee. It's not the worst scrape you've ever gotten, but it is bleeding, and it burns.

"Hang on, pie." He leaves the room, and by the time he returns with the pack of bandaids and peroxide, you're covering your face with one hand and hugging your knee with the other.

"Hey, it's not so bad," he says, obviously in partial panic mode as he kneels in front of you and tugs at your ankle. He probably thought that's why you were in tears, but it was moreso the fact that he was being...just...weird, and you didn't like it.

You quietly sit there, hands over your eyes as he uses a cotton ball to dab at the blood. You don't even flinch, it doesn't burn—perks of having an MMA star for a roommate; he knew how to bandage a cut (a common occurence for your clumsy ass, unfortunately).

After a few minutes, he pats the side of your calf, and you finally uncover your eyes. There's a bandaid over the scrape now, and you let your knee fall to the side. Jackson is looking at you, and you nod.

"That's good, thanks," you mumble quietly.

"You sure?" he asks. You frown, nodding quickly. But his hand moves up to your cheek, cupping it as his thumb swipes below your eye.

Tears.

That alarm goes off inside of you, but Jackson doesn't move his hand, so you let it sit there and you feel your stomach tying itself into a knot. You're a little worried it's not gonna come undone.

"I wasn't crying because of that," you say, swallowing as you glance away shamefully. "I...I don't like this, Jackson. Feels weird. If I did something to make you mad, I wish you'd just tell me—"

"I'm not mad at you," he replies. You sniff, and finally his hand slips away, though only to rest on your uninjured knee. His fingers twitch, like he wants to do something but won't let himself. Slap you, maybe, for never listening to him and always ending up hurt because of it. You would, if you were him.

"You keep running away from me," you point out, a little surge of anger from last night returning. "You keep acting like I'm supposed to know everything you're thinking, and I don't, because you won't tell me stuff. I tell you stuff, the least you could do is text me a grocery list of what the fuck is going on inside of your brain, so I'm not sitting here thinking I'm gonna lose my best friend and roommate over something I don't even know that I've done. I'm sorry we ran into Leejin, it's not like I knew he was gonna be there. I'm sorry for thinking I was special in the first place and ending up where you said I'd be."

Jackson sighs and tilts his head, and you hate yourself for crying more. It wasn't a big deal, things were a little crazy after yesterday. You didn't even love Leejin, it had just...hurt? Your pride? No one wants to know they're less than a second choice. But Jackson had acted like Leejin was out for his blood, and every time he runs away, it feels like he's escaping you.

"You're not gonna lose me," he finally says, glancing down at the floor. "I just...I've got a lot of shit to work through, you know? It's not...it's not your fault though."

"Like what?" you ask, worry lining your brow. "If you'd just—is it money? Because we can figure out rent—"

"It's not money," he interrupts. "I promise, it's nothing like that."

"Then what?" You huff, a little more irritated than concerned. "Parents? Grades? Girl trouble?"

"Yeah," he nods, licking his lips. "That last bit."

"Girl trouble?" you ask, somewhat surprised. For some reason, the fact that he hadn't told you about a girl bothered you more than the idea that there was one at all. You shared everything with him; if he'd kept her a secret, it had to have been a little more serious.

"Do I know her?" you ask tentatively. Please say no, I don't want to go through a list of the hottest girls I know.

"Yeah," he replies. Fuck.

"Oh. How long have you been dating?"

"We're not."

"Then...?"

"She's an idiot."

"It's a mystery as to why you're single, really," you say, rolling your eyes. "So she's an idiot because she won't date you? Sounds kind of shallow on your end."

"She's an idiot because she keeps dating jackasses who don't give a shit about her. I don't give a damn if she ever chooses me or not," he says plainly. You frown.

"Maybe she's insecure?"

"She is. Very."

"Huh. Is she pretty?"

"Beautiful."

"Oh. Hm."

Well what the fuck were you supposed to say to that? Congratulations? Sorrows, sorrows, prayers?

"Okay..." you say after a beat. You were not good with advice, especially when it came to love, obviously. He didn't say love though. Infatuation, maybe. Still, you were not an expert. "So if she keeps dating jackasses and won't date you, why do you bother? Why not just forget about her?"

Jackson's eye twitches. You don't notice.

"Hard to forget someone you see every day, pie," he says. You scoff.

"Okay, I'm calling bullshit. I'm literally the only person you see every day."

"Mhm."

"Then you're lying?" you ask. Jackson deadpans.

"Please, for the love of god, never reproduce."

"Rude," you mutter. "Fine, so I know her, she's insecure, pretty, dates assholes, you allegedly see her everyday?"

"All of the above," he says. You frown, lips pursing as you rack your brain for answers, going through the hot insecure girls you know like a filing cabinet.

Wait.

Your eyes widen. Jackson's do the same, and then he smiles, like he's proud of you.

"Oh my god, is it Kim Sujin?" You ask, covering your mouth. "The girl with the—"

"Jesus fucking christ, y/n," he groans, running a hand through his hair. "Are you...you're fucking with me? That's what this is. You're not this dumb, right? Please say no. I feel like I'm in middle school right now, holy shit."

You open your mouth to argue, to insist he was being unfair (you didn't even like puzzles!) but he suddenly leans forward, palms cupping both of your cheeks. He pulls you toward him, nose inches from yours. You've been this close to him before, but you're suddenly dizzy now, a little out of it as you wonder if this is really happening to you—or if this is another sweaty-jackson-standing-over-me dream. Jackson, who has freckles on the tip of his nose and won't stop looking at you like that, the knot pulling tighter and tighter.

"Stop thinking before you hurt yourself. 'm gonna kiss you now, is that okay?" he asks.

Is that oka—?

"Kiss?" you mumble, swallowed up by those god damn pretty brown eyes. Jackson nods, head tilted, primed to kiss the cluelessness out of you, apparently. "Y-yeah, that's fine."

"It's gonna be...it's gonna be a lot, okay? Like not just a peck. You're fine with that?"

"Yep," you nod.

Jackson nods back. And then he kisses you.

He doesn't release your face, squishing your body between himself and the bed behind you. His lips press to yours, insistent and warm, though you can tell he's being cautious—if you wanted to push him away, you could. But you did not want to do that.

Because Jackson Wang was kissing you, and he's a really good kisser.

You briefly forget that you have hands, so when you remember, you waste no time in using them. One cups his jaw, feeling the edge of it press into your palm. The other fists his blonde hair, tugging it gently.

Jackson groans into your mouth, and that alarm in your belly turns into a fucking war drum. You feel the knot tighten and snap, and suddenly you're pushing him back, scrambling into his lap.

You kind of want more, kind of want to put your tongue in his mouth because he's warm and tastes good and you can only imagine how much better it would be, but he beats you to it. His tongue swipes over your lower lip and you eagerly open for him. He breathes in as soon as you do, and it feels like he's stealing your soul. Fuck it? He can have it?

It's messy, a tad bit desperate, definitely not the poetic kiss of rom coms, but you don't give a shit. It feels good, feels warm and right, like you've been kissing him in your head every day for the past 4 years.

By the time you manage to separate, you're trembling an embarassing amount. You'd blame the buzz on coffee if you'd had any, but you just hide your flushed cheeks and rest your forehead against his shoulder. You can tell that for once, Jackson's brain seems to also have short circuited, as it takes him a minute before he finally wraps his arms around you. You can hear his breath—as shaky as yours, thank god.

"Was that okay? Was it weird? Did I make you uncomfortable?" he asks, tilting back on one palm to look at you, his other arm secured around your waist. You sit up, shamelessly biting your lower lip, refusing to meet his eyes. He mistakes this for discomfort, all but shoving you out of his lap, hands flying to his hair.

"Fuck, I...I shouldn't have...I didn't mean to. I wasn't gonna...I'm so fucking sorry y/n, if you want me to move out—"

"You're gonna go bald," you mumble, a little blitzed out as you rest on your hands.

"Huh?"

"Nevermind. Stop freaking out, okay?" you offer, finally looking up at him. God he looks...scared. Hair messy, brown eyes wide. So unlike his usual cocky self that you're a little shaken, caught between wanting to protect him and wanting to kiss him again.

"I didn't make you uncomfortable, did I?" he asks softly. That alarm is now everywhere, setting off in your chest at his concerned tone. You shake your head.

"No. I'm okay," you reassure him. "A little irritated."

Jackson's head snaps up, worry on his face. You feel guilty, so you quickly clarify.

"You said I'm not special," you say quietly, looking away. "If you were talking about me just now...why did you tell me that?"

He looks confused, like he can't remember (of all the things he's said to bully you—while you kept a detailed record). But he seems to finally recall the conversation, rubbing his forehead as his lips spread into a smile.

"What's funny?" you puff.

"I meant to him, pie. You're not special to him. Not that you weren't special at all, or to...to me," he explains, looking part amused and part shy. You soften a bit, unable to help but pout.

"Then you should say that!" you say, gesturing at nothing. "You can't just go around telling people they aren't special."

"I don't make you feel special?" he asks, dipping his head to meet your eyes.

Well, yes, but that's not the point. You choose not to reply.

Just like most things when it comes to you, however, he already knows the answer. He looks a little too proud of himself as he reaches for your wrist, pulling you back into him. You're not quite in his lap, but you lean heavily against his side, your chin resting against his chest.

"What if we mess it up?" you ask, looking up at him. He frowns, not understanding. "Us. What if...what if we mess us up?"

"I don't see how we would," he laughs. "We're practically married."

"Gross. We are not."

"We split the bills, pie."

"Most roommates do."

"We cook together."

"Most roommates do."

"My mother loves you."

"Your mother loves everyone."

"Not true. And my father loves you."

You pause, then squint.

"Your father has good taste," you say. Jackson rolls his eyes. He looks a little conflicted, like he can't decide what's too much, what's too soon.

"I do," he says quietly.

You hate that, for once in your life, you know exactly what he's saying without him saying it. And god damn it, you feel your eyes burning.

"Don't...ugh," you whine, looking away from him. But he's not having it, taking your chin and tilting your face up. You're faced with glassy eyes that make you want to die.

You hated it when he cried. Maybe you make his joints hurt or whatever, but you've only seen Jackson cry twice, once when his family dog died, and another when he was drunk and had convinced himself you weren't his friend anymore. Both times, you'd never felt so helpless. The way you feel now.

"Y/n, I—"

"Please don't," you breathe quickly, swallowing down your tears. You immediately panic at the look on his face, like you've slapped him. But you tuck your hair behind your ear and shake your head.

"No, I-I mean, I know you do, and I...I'm pretty sure I do too. I just...I can't say it now, alright?" you explain. "I'm sorry, I just—you know me better than anyone. I don't...don't wanna fuck it up, you know? I don't wanna lose you, I'm so bad, so stupid when it comes to this—"

"Hey, hey, shh..." Jackson says, gently shaking your chin. "I'm not upset, okay? Just relieved, a little scared. I don't want to fuck this up either, yeah? I want...I want what we are today and I want it tomorrow, even if that means we stay just like this."

His thumb brushes your lower lip. God, you want to kiss him again.

"No rush, pie, okay? I'll wait for you, even if..." he sucks in air and looks away, as though the idea hurts to even consider. "...even if it's never for us."

You want to kiss him again. Would that even be appropriate? After what you just said? After the emotions threatening to disrupt the foundation of your life for the past four years?

"Can...can I kiss you again?" he asks softly. You swallow and nod.

"Please."

pssst...do we need a part two with fluff and maybe some smut for these two idiots?

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imnotaacat · 2 days ago

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hii idk if you take requests so feel free to ignore this, but i’d love a sequel to badges where jackie finds out reader is the one married to steve

Helloooo, here is the second part, I hope you like it and enjoy it, I hope it lives up to what you imagined the second part to be. Thanks for the support for the first part. 💗 Ignore the title so simple lol.

Wonderful wife

Or Badge part 2

— Sumary: You and Steve are married and work for the same company, but your employees don't know. One day you mix up your badges and have to return them before anyone notices.

— Warnings: Fluff, no use of Y/n, some dirty talk (I think that's all)

A/n: English is not my native language, sorry if something is written wrong, I hope everything can be understood. :)

From that day on, Steve and you, or rather, Steve, began to be more careless in his treatment of you. He began to leave coffee or candy on your desk "without any of his employees noticing," then he began to call you to his office, many more times than normal, being a boss and his employee. So rumors and gossip began in the office. However, what alerted your coworkers was the day you arrived together.

Jackie was getting out of a taxi, when she saw Steve's car; at the same time she saw someone else sitting in the passenger seat, and the surprise was seeing you get out of his car and say goodbye with a big smile. Steve left you at the door, while he went down to the basement to park his car, Jackie ran to the building, and began to tell everyone that you were Mr. Harrington's lover, and that she would look for his wife to tell her.

The other employees simply didn't believe her, and called her a liar, responding with laughter, others thought that Steve probably saw you walking to work and gave you a ride. Her friends, on the other hand, believed her completely, and started a "revolution" against you.

Two days ago, they played a "prank" on you, Jackie came to your desk, and handed you an envelope, telling you that it was for you, and that it had been given to her by a woman outside the building, this seemed strange to you, you simply left it somewhere on your desk. At lunch time, most of the office was empty, so, you opened the envelope, you couldn't deny that you were curious to know what it was, inside there was a letter folded in half.

"What's that?" Someone asked behind you, after turning to look, you knew it was Edward, or Eddie, as he asked you to call him. He was your best friend, he was the first person to talk to you on your first day at work, he was a couple years older than you, but he really did seem like a kid.

You shrugged. "I don't know, Jackie gave it to me and said a woman gave it to her at the entrance." Eddie snatched it from your hands and started reading it and then started laughing. "What does it say?" You asked, Eddie handed it back. The letter said something like this.

"Honey, I know you're dating my husband, Steve, your boss. (The word was highlighted) Steve doesn't know that I already know he has a mistress, and I order you to stay away from him. You don't want to meet me, there's a reason I haven't shown up at the company." You laughed and Eddie started laughing again.

"It looks like it was written by a teenager" You said, still laughing after a few seconds.

"I know" Eddie replied. You took the letter, tore it up and threw it in the trash.

Nothing happened all afternoon, however the worst started the next day, from the moment you arrived at the office, the eyes were on you, the whispers between the employees, even some insults.

"God, what did you do to the whole office that everyone looks at you as if they wanted to kill you." Eddie said, arriving at his post.

"I don't know, since I arrived they started looking at me like that."

"I heard that Mr. Harrington's wife showed up and sent you a message."

"Do you really think it's her?" You asked incredulously. Eddie laughed.

"No, Mr. Harrington wouldn't marry a woman who behaves like a teenager." Eddie paused. "Besides, I think the mysterious Mrs. Harrington is you" he said, pointing at you.

"Me? Why would you believe that, Edward?" You said, letting out a laugh.

"Mmm I don't know, my intuition tells me so." He said with a smile, as he turned to his desk.

During the day, the dirty looks and whispers started to be just annoying. But they didn't bother you, you knew it wasn't true, you weren't anyone's lover and Steve wasn't unfaithful either... Or was he? You couldn't help those thoughts from coming to your mind, due to everything that was happening, but you had known Steve for a long time, you knew that in his adolescence he was nicknamed "King Steve" for his charm with girls, but you also witnessed his change, so, you shouldn't worry about anything.

During lunch, you and Eddie had lunch again in the office, while talking about your adolescence and how "idiots" you were according to Eddie's words. He told you how in his adolescence he was the "geek" and outcast of the town, just for liking metal and the Dungeons and Dragons board game, which seemed like illogical reasons to you.

"I always wanted to learn how to play D&D, but like you already said my parents thought it was satanic" You commented laughing.

"I know, 'the game that's killing children'" He said, quoting that magazine that was published so long ago, widening his eyes and raising his voice, making it more exaggerated. Both of you started laughing out loud.

Without realizing that someone was watching you, Steve.

He knew he shouldn't distrust you, but he also noticed that you spent a lot of time with Edward, and the way you spent time with him, or how he made you laugh, made him jealous.

Neither Eddie nor you heard the footsteps heading your way, as you were immersed in your laughter and conversation, so you both jumped when you heard the voice behind you.

"Miss Spencer" Steve said. Eddie and you turned to look at him. And you recognized his tone, as well as the expression he had on his face. A frown, a serious expression, a clenched jaw, clenched fists. He was jealous, you smiled.

"Mr. Harrington" You and Eddie greeted Steve at the same time.

"Miss Spencer, after lunch, I need you to be in my office, I have to consult you about some things." You nodded.

"Sure, I'll be there." Steve nodded and went back to his office, although he stayed a few meters before, to continue watching what you were doing.

Finally, lunch time ended, you went to the bathroom to make sure you didn't have a trace of food between your teeth or any part of your mouth. After that, you headed to Steve's office, knocked on the door and after hearing a "come in" you walked in. You smiled as you saw Steve concentrating, frowning, you walked over to him and got behind his chair to see what he was writing. From what you could see, he was responding to a client; when he finished, he put it in the envelope and then stood up from the chair.

"Sit down" He said pointing at the chair in front of his desk, you frowned. Once you did he kept talking. "Why didn't you tell me?"

You looked at him confused. "Steve, what are you talking about?" He sighed.

"What I was saying about you... Last time we said we would tell each other everything" You sighed and nodded.

"I thought it wouldn't be important, plus I didn't want to distract you with office gossip, which I can handle, and which we both know isn't true." You paused. "Right?" You asked. Hearing that, Steve relaxed his face, and both of you were surprised, your voice had sounded a little higher in the last question.

"Oh dear, you know I would never do that to you, you are my wife, and I would do nothing to hurt you." He said approaching you with a smile, you smiled too, as you got up from the chair and Steve kissed you.

"A while ago, I saw you very happy with Edward" He said while he was very close to you. You laughed.

"Oh, Eddie is just my-" Steve interrupted you.

"Eddie?" He asked.

"Are you jealous?" You laughed denying. "Eddie is his nickname, everyone in the office calls him that, at his request." You said, Steve nodded.

Steve's arms were on your waist, or maybe a little lower, yours were playing with his jacket and tie, Steve kissed you again, after a few seconds, the kiss began to get a little more and more intense, and he began to push you towards his desk, your butt hit his desk, with one of his hands he separated your legs, so he could place himself between them. This was getting more intense, they had to stop.

"Steve, no... We can't do... This here" You said between kisses, but Steve didn't seem to stop. "Steve" you whispered again.

"Why not?" Steve began to tell you without moving away from you. "Why can't they find out... That you're my wife?" Steve's voice was already agitated, both of your chests were rising and falling, and you could feel how hard he was starting to get.

You laughed. "We can do it at home, there you'll hear me scream all you want" You said with a mischievous smile, playing with his tie.

"Are you really going to leave me waiting until we get home?" He said before closing the space between you again with a kiss and a smile.

At the same time the door opened. "Mr. Harrington, here's your-" The voice was interrupted after hearing something fall to the floor.

Steve and you didn't even separate, more than your faces, you saw the person who was standing at the door, completely surprised, it was Jackie, then you looked at the floor, where there was a large brown stain, on the white carpet, and who was also Steve's favorite, once again you turned to see Jackie, who didn't come out of her "trance"

"Oh no" You whispered when you saw Steve's face.

"Miss Thompson!" Steve shouted.

"Mr. Harrington, excuse me, I came in and saw you with-"

Steve interrupted her. "You didn't see anything! How many times have I told you to knock before entering?" He said, quite annoyed, the employees were already starting to look out to see what had happened. You quickly left the office to look for the people in charge of cleaning.

Steve never yelled at his employees, only when they REALLY didn't obey some rule, can you imagine being in an important meeting, and his employees just walk in like that? That would give him a bad impression, that he has no respect or authority. Besides, he wasn't even mad because he hadn't knocked on the door, or because you and he had been interrupted, (well, maybe about that, yes a little), but he was more upset about his carpet, because it had been a gift from his grandfather to him, when he was a child, his grandfather passed away a few days after giving him that gift.

The cleaners arrived as quickly as they could and put some towels on the carpet to see if they still absorbed some, but the drink was already absorbed by the carpet. Everyone knew how important and precious that carpet was to Steve.

Steve simply watched as they picked up the carpet and carried it out of the office, Jackie was crying somewhere, being comforted by one of her friends, while you watched Steve, tears starting to appear in his eyes, you wanted to go comfort him and hug him, but you knew it wasn't wise at the moment, so with a look you promised to come back later.

Steve ordered everyone to return to their work stations. Your feelings were also present, you knew how important the carpet was to your husband, although for any employee it could be just any carpet, but for him, it was the last memory he had of his grandfather, who had been like his father.

You returned to your desk to try to work, but you couldn't because you didn't know how your husband was.

"Hey, what happened?" Eddie asked in a whisper. It really made you laugh. You told him what happened, and he really made you laugh with the expressions he made.

"Do you think I'll fire her?" Eddie asked.

"I don't know, we know that rug is important to Ste- Mr. Harrington." You said with a nervous laugh, praying that Eddie wouldn't notice how you called your boss. Eddie nodded, looking at you with his eyes half closed. You knew that Eddie already suspected something.

Finally half an hour before the end of the work day, you got up from your desk with the excuse that you and your boss hadn't finished talking.

When you entered you saw him sitting at his desk, his gaze lost somewhere in the office, you left your things on the desk and quickly went to hug him, you even questioned in your mind his condition because of the carpet, but you also knew that his childhood and adolescence had not been the best, having two parents who traveled every week, he practically lived alone, and it was his grandparents who took care of him. You heard him start to sob again.

"Oh love..." You hugged him tighter. "I promise I will do everything to get the carpet back safe and sound" He nodded, he looked like a child who had been robbed by a lollipop

Both Steve and you knew that your relationship would already be exposed, today in the office. So you weren't even going to worry about hiding it, you put on your engagement ring and your wedding ring, a wine red suit that perfectly matched Steve's tie and his blue suit.

You entered together, hand in hand, which brought many surprised faces and a few whispers. Steve stood in the middle of the office.

"Today, my beloved wife," he said, pointing at you, "will begin her duties as Director of Operations. Her office, as you know, is next to mine. She will be in charge of authorizing each project for each client, and believe me, she is a bit demanding," he said, laughing. You laughed as you patted him on the shoulder.

"The time I've seen you work with me, believe me, I've seen how good you are. I've seen your evolution and how you've improved in this time. I want you to know that our treatment or behavior will not change," you said with a smile. In the back of the crowd, you could see the distraught faces of Jackie and her friends.

"Jackie, please come to my office," Steve said. "I'll see you later," Steve said with a smile.

You headed toward your desk, with a smile that grew bigger as you looked at Eddie.

"The mysterious Mrs. Harrington, huh?" He said laughing, you laughed too.

"You know you'll always be my best friend right?"

"Don't change the subject, you told me he's crazy, and I ended up being right."

"Well, no one could find out, Eddie." Eddie smiled.

"I'm glad it's you, and not some woman with a teenage complex." You laughed as you finished packing your things into a box.

"Do you want to see my new office?" You asked with a smile. He took the box in response.

"I'll help you carry it." You laughed.

When they arrived you saw Jackie leave Steve's office, followed by Steve, the girl only gave you an annoyed look, you glanced at Eddie to see if he had seen the same thing as you, once she disappeared from his field of vision, both of you laughed.

"I think someone got up in a bad mood today" Eddie said laughing.

"Probably." You played along.

Both of you walked through the door, Steve looked down. The office was quite similar to Steve's, a large window in front of the door, white walls, and a glass door.

Eddie left the box on the desk as he went to see the view, which was very good, you had the view of the entire city.

"You definitely have the best view" He said, turning to look at you and Steve, who had already entered the office.

"No offense Mr. Harrington." The three of you laughed.

"Tell me Steve, Eddie." Steve said with a smile. He was now at your side, with his arm around your waist. Eddie nodded with a smile.

Eddie noticed that the moment between you was getting more intimate. "As much as I want to stay, I have work to do, so I have to go." He said laughing. You and Steve nodded, and Eddie left the office leaving you and Steve alone.

"So, how did it go?" You asked and Steve rolled his eyes.

"Well, she apologized, and then she begged, for me not to fire her, and then she blamed you for her firing and well, when I told her that it wasn't just because of what happened yesterday, it was her firing, you could say that she accepted it, and now I think she's in human resources." He shrugged.

You stayed silent looking at the city, Steve had his right arm on your waist, and you had your left arm on his. With your left arm on his, you were. His left arm took your chin and with a smile he gave you a short kiss.

"I love you" He said, still with faces centimeters away from each other.

"I love you too" You replied with a smile.

I would also like you to give advice or recommendations. I hope it's not too long or boring. I would appreciate your comments. 💗

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #stranger things #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington x you

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