#and now I have to wait until probably late tonight for box | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

kooktrash · 1 year ago

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LIMERENCE | jeon jungkook

summary: a recent discovery of old VCR tapes takes you down a rabbit hole of self-pity, remembering what you once had and how it all went down the drain over youthful mistakes. suddenly, you find yourself playing back the old tapes of the best relationship you’ve ever had and all you can think about is how to get it back—if you could get it back

warnings: angst. smut. [jk and oc in videos: 18-20 | jk and oc now: 26] retired emos. exes to lovers. unprotected intercourse [listen it had been six years they weren’t waiting 😭] jk has a bellybutton piercing and he smokes. jk owns a camera shop. supportive besties Jimin and Tae and Yoongi. Y2K styled camcorders. a small argument on one of the tapes

LIMERENCE MASTERLIST

➢ genre/au: exes to lovers, smut, Y2K videotape style [ ex boyfriend!jk x ex girlfriend!y/n [she/her. female anatomy ]

➢ 18.4k words

song inspo: risk — deftones, 505 — arctic monkeys, afraid — xavier omar, who [feat. BTS] — lauv

The end of a chapter in your life always came when you least expected it. You’ll wake up one day and it’ll hit you that you don’t talk to the same people. You don’t do the same things or act the same way and when you look back at before, it will feel so far from the person you are now.

Standing before your half empty apartment began to bring this growing feeling of sadness inside you. It made you feel stupid but you just couldn’t help it, this was the end of a huge time in your life where you felt like you really began to develop into who you are. After seven years living here, you’re finally moving on and everything that happened here would be left behind. All the laughter, the crying, the break ups that left you balling your eyes out on the kitchen floor. You would soon move into a clean slate and for some reason that was hitting you hard.

It probably didn’t help that your dear friend managed to find a box of things— you haven’t thought about in quite literally years—hidden away in an old storage space on the ceiling. The sides of the cardboard box were in ruins with wet patches and bent corners. There was no writing on the sides but on the top a big line of red duct tape with the words ‘JJK’ and a few small scissors stab marks next to it. Jimin looked up at you with a raised brow, “Are you keeping this one?”

Your expression seemed to flatten as you looked down at it, unsure what to say and he sighed, “Come on Y/n, it’s late, I want to get as much of this out as we can. Are you keeping this one?”

“Um,” You looked back down at it, nodding your head, “Yes.”

Since the day you found that box and told Jimin you were keeping it, all it’s done is collect dust in the corner of your new living room, out of place and constantly on your mind. Your friends were a big help in the move, especially Jimin who had hauled that huge cardboard box up three flights of stairs to your new place without question to what was in it. It wasn’t until he got tired of seeing it sit in the corner for an entire week after everything had been unpacked that he really began to get curious about it.

“So what’s in that thing?” Jimin asked that Friday night you lounged around your apartment, proud to have finally gotten everything out. Tonight was the first night your mutual friend would be over and it was like a housewarming party with the only two people who can stand being around you.

“What’s in what?” You asked, catching a glance at your friend, Somin, who’s knowing eyes bore into yours—already knowing what he was talking about. The thing is, Somin was very aware of what was in that box and she’s been biting her tongue all night from asking why you still had it.

“The box, it’s just been sitting there,” Jimin said pointing to it, “It’s kinda ruining this whole vibe you’ve got going on here with all the black decor and house plants.”

“Just some old stuff,” you shrugged it off, looking back down at the playing cards in your hands, “I haven’t found a place to put it.”

Somin raised a brow at you but you ignored her this time to continue your game of cards and drink your wine. Jimin looked at her, “Do you know what’s in it?”

You sighed, “Jimin, I told you it’s just some old stuff.”

“Yes, Y/n, but old stuff can be a lot of things and that box was heavy so I’m curious,” Jimin said exaggeratedly, “Can’t a man be curious these days?”

“It’s no—“

“It’s a bunch of old home videos,” Somin said as she poured herself more wine casually like she hadn’t just exposed what was inside your secret box. Jimin’s jaw dropped, “Wait, Y/n, you used to do porn?”

“What!?” You nearly choked, “No—well, like on—no! Those aren’t that type of home video, they’re just… y'know old tapes.”

“Like from when you were a kid?” Jimin asked with a scoff, “Let’s watch them.”

“I’m not a kid,” You said shaking your head no, “And no, let’s not watch them.”

“I agree with Jimin,” Somin cut in after watching you begin to panic a bit, “You kept them for a reason, let’s see why. Jimin’s never seen them.”

You laughed nervously, “Come on, it’s just silly stuff, I just kept them for the memory, that’s all.”

“We don’t doubt it,” Jimin said with a smirk, “But come on, let me see one—just one.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“Fine!”

The three of you huddled around it with a pair of keys using the jagged end to cut into the old tape and the box nearly fell apart just like that. When Jimin pulled the tabs open, the three of you seemed to lean in closer and closer with anticipation for the reveal until finally, a silence fell over you.

Jimin didn’t hesitate from reaching into it, scabbing row after row of old VCR tapes with white labels on the sides with similar titles in a numerical order.

‘JJK 1’

‘JJK 2’

‘JJK 3’

‘JJK 4’

There were 24 tapes in the box and he counted every single one meaning these spanned two years with one tape filmed per month. The same initials that had been on top of the box had been written on the tapes and he couldn’t help himself from picking up the first one. “Let’s watch it.”

“No! No,” you said, taking it out of his hands, “You wanted to see what was inside and you saw, be happy with what you get, I don’t have anything to play these on anyway.”

“I do!” Somin piped in, “I’ve got my old tape player back home, say the words and I’ll go get it.”

“Not neces—“

“Do it.”

What you wanted at the moment seemed to be outnumbered by your friend’s curiosity and your other friend’s need to satiate it. You were left alone with Jimin for twenty minutes as Somin left to get it and he rummaged through them trying to ask you what they were, only for you to evade each question out of stubbornness. Now she’s back and you’re watching them set everything up on your flatscreen while you sat back on your couch chugging back your glass of wine nervously.

Jimin smiled mischievously as he held up a tape, building anticipation before placing it into the player and letting it start.

․ ∘ ⊹ ✰ ┆ JJK 1 : THE SHOP ┆ ✰ ⊹ ∘ .

There was a pungent chemical smell surrounding the register you currently sat on that had the customers in line scrunching their noses in disgust but that didn’t seem to stop either one of you from what you were doing. He worked with one hand as best as he could while you worked on the other applying a cold layer of polish onto his fingers.

A small black nail polish was set down on the counter next to a silver cam recorder that had been angled at the two of you this whole time, capturing on video the way you painted your coworker’s nails. Jungkook bid them farewell before turning his attention back on you, “Hurry up, we’re starting to get busy again.”

“Shh,” you pointed a manicured finger up, “You can’t rush perfection.”

“I’m not rushing perfection, I’m rushing you,” Jungkook said as you brought his hand closer to your lips trying to dry his nails with your warm breath. The video seemed to have a perfect view of the way his eyes glossed over with affection when he looked at you and you weren’t paying attention.

“Oh my god, every girl is going to want to sleep with you,” you eyed his nails proudly, “You look hot.”

“I’ve always been hot,” Jungkook said looking down at his black nails that complimented his black leather and beaded bracelets that lined his wrists, “Okay but how cool do these make me look? Like, would you sleep with me?”

He tilted his head toward you in curiosity and for a moment you just looked at him in thought before finally shrugging, “Yeah, I’d do it.”

“Do what?” Jungkook asked, shaking his black hair out of his face. With the way the camera was aimed, the two of you looked zoomed in but it still managed to capture the way your eyes stayed on each other wordlessly, the tension felt through the screen.

‘Can someone help get a shirt down?’

He watched you hop off the graffiti-covered counter and grabbed the long hook that helped get things down and left with her—not before responding with a simple, “You.”

Once your answer registered in his head, he wasted a single second to look at his camera, wondering if it had caught this small flirty moment the two of you had while you painted his nails and the thought alone made him smirk, biting against his lip ring too. He didn’t think he would get his nails painted at work today but when he saw you doing your own, you convinced him and he spent the last ten minutes messing around with you, flirting here and there.

The shift had been boring for the most part and all the songs that played he'd already heard a million times over. This is his fifth time singing along to Falling Away From Me by Korn. Do you think he wants Korn stuck in his head all day?

His beanie clad head bobbed to the rifts in the song, quietly lip synching as he went back to doodling on an old receipt paper. Some of the ink from the pen he used was smudging and the black hearts he drew were getting ruined but he didn’t care. He’ll either throw it away or stick it on your back if he wants to.

“Beating me down! Beating me, beating me down, down, into the ground,” a voice sang loudly in his ear making him jump in fear.

“Don’t moan in my fucking ear, bro,” Jungkook said holding a hand to his ear, the softness of his beanie tickling his fingers. Taehyung threw himself against the counter with his back pressed against it looking at his friend, “You know you liked it.”

“Fuck off,” Jungkook said as he blew air on his nails again, drawing Taehyung’s attention to them. He stuck a hand out as if waiting and Jungkook put his hand over it to show him his nails.

Taehyung seemed impressed as he asked, “Who did them?”

“Y/n.”

“Y/n!” Taehyung shouted abruptly and Jungkook flinched away with annoyance, ready to tell him you were helping a customer when you popped around the corner with a t-shirt and hanger in your hands and the customer behind you.

“What?” Your brows arched in confusion as you looked at your coworker who has spent the last twenty minutes in the stockroom between Nirvana posters and new Metallica tees hiding so he could play his Nintendo GameBoy. Jungkook was careful not to fuck up his black nails and took the shirt from you so he could check the customer out.

Taehyung pointed to Jungkook’s nails,“Can you do mine next?”

A scoff left your lips, joining him next to the counter standing close to ask, “Are you going to pay me?”

His jaw dropped as he turned back to Jungkook, “What the fuck? Did he?”

“Thank you, have a good night,” Jungkook mumbled to the customer as she left with a new t-shirt before turning to the other two, “I’m buying Y/n lunch tomorrow.”

“I’ll buy you lunch the day after.”

“You can’t. That’s not original.” You said to him with a teasing smirk. The two of you were standing close to each other as you talked, Taehyung’s voice dropped when he spoke to you, “You know what, just because the two of you got a little crush on each other doesn’t mean you’ve gotta favor him.”

Jungkook looked down at the drawing he made, trying his best to act like he hadn’t heard what Taehyung said, but it didn’t stop the growing blush to his cheeks. It’s true, maybe he does have a thing for you but it’s still too early to tell, y’know? He’s not sure how to explain it but you seem to get him. The two of you like the same kind of music and know the same sort of things. You listen to him talk and when he’s quiet, you don’t question it. You make him feel comfortable and when you flirt with him he wonders if you feel the same.

Honestly, that’s all he’s wanted these days, his attraction toward you to be reciprocated anyway it could be. He thinks about you constantly, probably more than what’s healthy but he can’t help it.

“Oh shut up,” you rolled your eyes playfully, feeling the shuffling movement of Jungkook pulling himself up on the counter, “Just say you’re jealous and feel left out.”

“Bitch?!” Taehyung scoffed, “I wouldn’t feel this way if you treated us fairly, instead you give him special treatment.”

“You realize you’re arguing with me over getting your nails painted?” You asked with a roll of your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest, clearly annoyed and once Jungkook saw that he was fully pulling you his way. He threw an arm around your neck, hugging you from behind as he sat on the counter and rested his head on yours, “Ignore him, he’s in a mood because he just got dumped.”

“Fuck you, I broke up with her!” Taehyung nearly yelled, staring at the two of you with disgust as Jungkook fixed the beanie on your head that had slipped a little too low over your eyes.

Just as you were getting ready to respond to him, the door of the stockroom opened and your boss was coming out with a blank expression, “Can you guys do your jobs instead of fuck around?”

“Yoongi, I’m being bullied,” Taehyung argued, “Fire them already.”

“I’ll fire you too,” Yoongi teased before looking at Jungkook, “Get off my counter.”

․ ∘ ⊹ ✰ ┆ THE END ┆ ✰ ⊹ ∘ .

The video came to an end as your old boss stood in front of the camera, blocking out the footage that ended with Jungkook whispering something into your ear.

“Who’s that guy? An ex boyfriend?” Jimin asked as the video came to an end. Somin released a soft laugh as she looked at your blank expression, unsure what to say. Before you could speak up, she was doing it for you, “That's the ex boyfriend. Jeon Jungkook.”

“Don’t immortalize him,” you said with a slight roll of your eyes as you watched Jimin rummage through the box in search of another video to play. Your bottom lip was pulled between your teeth as a strange ounce of nerves began to set in, watching him unlock a deep rooted memory you had told yourself you had forgotten. Somin sent you a knowing look as she matched the roll of your eyes with her own, “How else should I refer to him as? The guy who filmed a video each month that you two were together?”

“Damn,” Jimin laughed, slumping back in a chair as he looked at you, “So how come I’ve never heard of this videographer.”

“Because Y/n’s asham—“

“Alright! No more wine for you,” you leapt forward to snatch the glass out of your friend’s hands watching her giggle drunkenly, “You’re just saying things now.”

“Come on Y/n, I’m curious,” Jimin said tugging on your sleeve, “If you won’t let her tell me… you gotta do it. Don’t act like you don’t still think about it, why else would you have all these tapes still?”

“Because it’s not everyday someone makes 26 movies for you—and not all of them are as happy as this one,” you confessed as you looked down at ‘JJK 1’ it had been a video log of when the two of you really began to show some attraction toward each other just before he asked you out. Looking back at the video all you could think was how back then you were both young, you could see it on your faces and the sparkles in your eyes. Not all of the videos in that box would be like this one.

“Alright,” Jimin sighed, “Well then just tell me who Jeon Jungkook is.”

Sounds of a rock song’s electric guitar blurred out the noises from inside the dark shop. The store was covered in black and dark blue with its black walls and blue hues of light that shined down over dozens of cameras and melancholic portraits. It had an obviously cold aura and for some reason that had a tendency to always bring him comfort.

He felt warmth in the coolness of his small shop and oftentimes it was difficult to leave it behind, even when the night sky had appeared and the ‘closed’ sign had been flipped. The only thing that kept him from spending yet another night in the store was a set of plans that had been made days prior by someone who wouldn’t take no for an answer. When it came time to leave, he locked up shop and left on his motorcycle.

“Look who finally decided to show up,” his dear friend raised a glass of whiskey to him as he sat alone at the bar, “I was wondering if you were gonna come or not.”

“I didn’t realize I had an option,” he joked bitterly, making his friend send him a glare that was quickly wiped away when something came to mind. “So I met this chick, she’s got this friend wh—“

“No.”

“Jungkook,” his friend said, watching his friend stir the ice in his scotch, “You don’t even know what I was going to say.”

Jungkook released a scoff as he looked at him, “You were going to say that this friend wants to meet me and that I should go and get drinks with her or something.”

He sat there quietly, speechless by how spot on his best friend was, “Alright, maybe you did know what I was going to say but just hear me out… she’s hot. Uh, um, she’s your type—honestly, I’m your best friend so trust me.”

“No, Taehyung, you always say the same thing and it's always a huge waste of time,” Jungkook shook his head adamantly, “I don’t get why you’re always trying to set me up with someone whenever you get into a relationship. We’ve been friends for eight years and you’re still this clingy?”

“Okay first of all, fuck you, I’m not clingy,” Taehyung told him with a scoff, “Second, I’m trying to do you a favor considering you can’t keep a relationship to save your life.”

That made Jungkook roll his eyes as he looked anywhere but at his friend. The two sat at the counter of some quiet lounge bar where they had agreed to meet at. He raised his glass to his lips for a drink as he said, “Some people aren’t meant to be in relationship—“

“No, you wanna know what your problem is?” Taehyung cut him off, “It’s that you’re too damn picky. Hate to say it friend, but nobody is ever going to be her.”

His expression hardened as he forced his glare on the silver rings he wore, listening to the way they clinked against the polished bartop. He didn’t give Taehyung a response right away, too busy trying not to roll his eyes again but it was no use, his tongue poked against his cheek and his friend knew he got a reaction. Jungkook tilted his head in thought, “Why do you still bring Y/n up?”

“Because she was your longest relationship,” Taehyung said with a shrug. He was pushing his friend for a response and he felt a little bad but sometimes he just needs to get his friend to talk. Jungkook has always been on the quieter side, even years back. All he did was listen to music and videographed things he liked. He was a bit intimidating—still is—but it was only because he was so quiet. Sure, he knew how to joke around but Taehyung’s known him long enough to feel the difference in his friend lately. He’s become more of a shut-in, busy with the store and not focused on anything else.

“Yeah, six years ago,” Jungkook emphasized with a scoff, “And she broke up with me, remember?”

“I mean… yeah but… don’t you ever think about it?” Taehyung asked suddenly, “I still think about my first love.”

“Y/n was not my first love,” Jungkook’s brows furrowed, remembering the two girlfriends before he ever met you. Taehyung gave him a look, “Not your first girlfriend but definitely your first love. What do you think Y/n’s up to?”

He hadn’t noticed how his leg began to bounce anxiously as he took a sigh, “How would I know? You’re the one who still talks to her.”

“Not true,” Taehyung shook his head no, “We haven’t talked in over three years.”

“Hm,” Jungkook sounded unimpressed as he chugged back the rest of his drink, motioning the bartender over to ask for another round. He wasn’t in the mood to keep talking about this and it caught him off guard.

He couldn’t remember the last time he thought about you but he’s got no doubt in his mind it was because of Taehyung back then too. This is the problem with being best friends with the guy who was with you through all the ups and downs and hasn’t seen you put your all into a relationship since. The only thing Jungkook doesn’t get is why Taehyung is stuck on the idea that he never got over you.

You both were young back then. The end of your adolescence started with the beginning of adulthood and the two of you had just so happened to spend the first two years together like that. You dated when you were 18 and broke up when you were 20, it was so long ago and now it’s just a last memory to him. He hasn’t seen you in six years and the only time he ever wastes time thinking about you is when you’re brought up. He’s managed to push you so far back in his head that he’s only reminded of you when someone else mentions you and every time it happens, it hurts a little more.

Taehyung has this problem with revisiting the past anytime he’s drunk and since he met him at the same time that he met Y/n… it’s no surprise that some of those early memories had you in them. He never failed to remind Jungkook that he had felt like a child with divorced parents having to choose a side when you two broke up. Time and time again Jungkook reminds him that he could’ve gone off and been best friends with you if that’s what he really wanted but then it would end in an argument over the friendship.

Jungkook reached into the pocket of his black jeans for his pack of cigarettes and offered one to Taehyung, “So tell me about this friend.”

“She’s blonde—natural or not, I’m not sure—but she’s attractive and nice. She seems a bit extroverted, kinda bubbly so I don’t know how you’ll feel about that but I’m telling you… you’ll like her,” Taehyung said, happy to drop the current topic to go back to the original point in conversation.

He tried to listen to his friend’s description of this woman he wanted Jungkook to meet but he couldn’t. It was really all Taehyung’s fault for making him think about you and all his past relationships. He’ll admit, he’s been in quite a few and none have lasted more than a few months aside from the one with you. It was normal for yours to be the one that left the biggest impact on him but he wouldn’t say that’s why he stays away from relationships.

There might be a time here and there where Jungkook does indulge in carnal desires and sleeps with someone but they’re never anything more than that.

He’s got too much shit going on to waste time dating someone.

After a long night of hearing his friend go on and on about a woman he thinks is good for him, he returned to his loft apartment tired and alone. Like his shop, his apartment had the same cool tone to it. The walls were black and some brick, blue lights were tucked away in corners angling up toward photographic portraits he’s done in the last few years and his black 1968 Gibson Custom Les Paul Electric guitar hanging proudly in his living room. His Doberman leapt happily at the sight of his owner and he followed after Jungkook as he stepped onto his couch taking the guitar off its hooks to examine it.

To be honest, he rarely plays the guitar nowadays and it’s not because he forgot how to play or because he lost his love for it but it’s not the same anymore. Now it just sits as a reminder of who he was with when he got it and just how he got it. As if this guitar wasn’t a constant reminder of you, his dear friend felt the need to bring you up too.

It wasn’t Taehyung’s fault things happened the way they did and it’s not his fault that it fell apart for him too but… sometimes he wonders if things would have been different if Taehyung didn’t push him to date you all those years back.

For days on end all you could do was think about that stupid box. It didn’t help that you had no room for it so it remained in your living room taunting you, pressing you to play just one more video. It’s strange how you hadn’t thought about this box or Jungkook in a long time and now he’s randomly showing back up in your life without even knowing it. Honestly, it was embarrassing.

You’ve randomly begun to think about a guy you dumped when you were 20 years old and for some reason that’s starting to get to you. It was making you anxious like all of a sudden you’ve realized how much time has passed. If it wasn’t for moving out of your old apartment, you wouldn’t have even thought about this but not that you’re looking back… this was supposed to be that ending.

You were supposed to leave it all behind when you moved and instead you brought it with you to your new beginning.

“Y/n.” The man across from you called your name as you stared off in the distance. He released a small sigh, “Come on kid, you wanted to get lunch, what’s up?”

“I’m not a kid,” you told Yoongi with a glare in your eyes, “And maybe I just wanted to catch up with an old friend of mine.”

Yoongi lifted an unamused brow, “Are you calling me old or our friendship old?”

“A little bit of both,” you said with a teasing smile, taking a sip from your drink as the two of you waited for your food, “But anyway, no, I haven’t seen you in like a month and I kinda missed you.”

“Right…” Yoongi looked away, “So what have you been up to? How’s the new apartment?”

You released a sigh as Yoongi began to ask you things and tried sorting your answers in your head, “I’ve been too busy moving but the apartment is nice, a little less space than I originally thought but nothing I can’t manage.”

“And how’s the magazine?” Yoongi asked, taking a short pause to thank the server who brought your plates out, “Did you get that promotion?”

“Yes!” Your eyes widened and a smile came to your face, “I did, we’re still working on transfers but you’re looking at the new Editorial Assistant.”

“Soon to be new Editor,” Yoongi said proudly, “I can’t believe I’ve seen you grow from some emo kid who used to work for me to an adult on their way to their dream job.”

“I know,” you released a sigh at the thought of how far you’ve come. When you graduated high school you worked at a streetwear shop and you stayed there part time when you started college. It’s gotta be the best place you’ve ever worked at and the environment was always laid back. Yoongi was the one to push you and ask what you wanted to be and when you told him your plan to work at a magazine he was always right there beside you. Now at 26, you’re just a step away from Editor. It’s crazy how much can change in six years and that alone made you ask, “I know this is random but do you still talk to old employees?”

Yoongi’s brows furrowed, “I talk to you.”

“I mean beside me,” you said with a roll of your eyes as you poured yourself more water in your glass. You wanted to say this was all just out of curiosity considering he’s the one who brought up the time you worked for him but in reality… you planned on asking him this when he agreed to lunch.

“Mm, not really. I talked to Taehyung for a while after he quit but it didn’t last long,” Yoongi said as casually as ever and he looked at you with curious eyes. Your lip was pulled between your teeth and you were no longer eating, just using your silverware to play with your food and he knew you well enough to know his answer didn’t satiate your curiosity. He purposely left out any mention of him but maybe that’s what you were looking for? “I haven’t talked to Jungkook since he moved—but last I heard he came back a couple years ago and opened up a store.”

“Store?” You asked, watching your friend’s eyes widen in surprise.

“Yeah, he, y’know he opened a camera store, a couple second hand guitars too,” Yoongi said, “You didn’t know?”

You shook your head no, “When?”

“I don’t know, when he came back? Jin told me he had seen him around but I never talked to him. We didn’t keep in touch when he went back to Busan so I figured it would be weird to want to know what he’s up to now, right?” Yoongi said, unaware of the way you had tuned him out, lost in thought.

Talking about Jungkook to Yoongi felt strange because he knew the two of you in a different way than Somin did. Somin knew Jungkook because of you but you and him worked for Yoongi for two years. It’s like with Taehyung, he met you the same time he met Jungkook but the two grew closer even when you fell out. Your breakup with Jungkook was a bit of a tricky subject and you’ll take the blame for it. Back then you might’ve tried and argued that it was a mutual agreement but now that you’re older you’ll admit you were in the wrong, or maybe the things you said were wrong.

“Y/n,” Yoongi called your name, snapping your out of your state of daydream and caught your attention, “Have you really not spoken to him since the breakup? I don't remember it being that bad.”

You shrugged, “Honestly I can’t remember, a lot happened that I didn’t say and I’m sure he didn’t either so it makes sense.”

“What’s wrong?” He asked, “I can tell something is on your mind, why’d you ask who I kept in touch with? Have you been trying to contact Jungkook?”

“No,” you nearly choked on your drink, “No, I just, um, I was just curious.”

Yoongi didn’t press you for more, he could see it on your face that there was more you weren’t telling him but he didn’t want to force you to come out with it. You ended your little lunch date with plans to meet up again and went back to your respective jobs.

It wasn’t until nighttime that you found yourself thinking back to that stupid fucking box that just grabbed your attention everytime you were home. If Jimin had never wanted to play the first tape then maybe you wouldn’t have been so stuck on them but you just can’t help it anymore. They’re all you’ve been able to think about which has led you to think about Jungkook. You have not questioned him or his whereabouts in so long and this sudden interest in how he’s doing is starting to get to you.

When you got home you tried distracting yourself from them. You still had to figure out where to put them if you even want to keep them and although you think you shouldn’t… you can’t just throw them away either. It’s a memory, a cute little memory if you only watch the first few videos and you’ve moved on so they shouldn’t bother you anymore—they don’t bother you anymore. You spent part of your night finishing up a project from work, drinking a glass of wine and listening to Bloodhail by Have a Nice Life, only looking at the box every now and then.

You always preferred working in your living room because it helped you resist the urge to lay in bed but right now you can’t focus on your project and you can’t take it anymore. You took a tape out of the box and put it into Somin’s tape player, turned on the tv and the volume up just a bit as the video began to play.

․ ∘ ⊹ ✰ ┆ JJK 2 : THE SKATEPARK┆ ✰ ⊹ ∘ .

The sky was dark and you doubted anything could be seen on the camera set up beside you but neither of you seemed to care. The camera had been rolling since the store was open and you had been filming with him since but you never expected Jungkook would ask you out. Could you call this a date?

“Y/n,” Jungkook’s voice was calm and collected over the loud rock music that played in the skate park, “I’ll pull, all you have to do is try and balance.”

“I am trying,” you took a deep breath staring down at the skateboard underneath your worn out converse, “Just give me a second, alright?”

Jungkook just smiled, he took a cautious step back when you released his hands and he picked up his camera trying to make sure you were in view. Things have begun to change between you two drastically. Sure, you always did a back and forth flirting at work but lately it feels a bit more than that. You’ve been messaging every night talking about random things, sometimes talking about more meaningful things. Whenever he was near you his touch always seemed to linger and now he’s asked you out tonight—nothing serious… just feeling it out.

“Okay, okay, wait I think I got it,” you waved a hand excitedly as you called him back over. He didn’t hesitate to take your hand in his free one and aimed the camera down at your feet. He began to pull you forward, feeling your fingers lock with his when you nearly lost balance.

Jungkook was walking backwards as he helped you skate across the cement, not watching where he was going until he bumped into a ramp nearly yanking you off the board. The camera fumbled in his hand as he tried to save you instead and wrapped an arm around your waist to keep you steady. You clung to his arm, heart racing from the near fall and yet you couldn’t help but laugh as you fumbled to keep the camera safe. Since you met him you realize he had a strong tie with his camcorder and got used to his need to always be recording, you found it cute so you didn’t want something to happen to it.

He was hesitant to let you go even when you stood up comfortably, tucking your hair behind your pierced ears and biting your lip, “I need a break.”

Jungkook didn’t question it as he followed you to sit down on a grassy hill just outside the cement confines of the skatepark. He reached into his black Jansport backpack and took out a bottled water to hand to you. You smiled, taking it with a thank you and asked, “So do you come here every night you close?”

“Sometimes,” Jungkook shrugged, watching you tip your head back to drink from his water bottle, a small droplet slipping down your chin that had him reaching out a thumb to wipe, “Helps clear my head.”

“That’s nice,” you said softly thanking him, cheeks flush red, handing him back the water and watching him take a drink next, “Is that why you’re always recording too?”

Jungkook looked down at his silver camcorder that sat in the middle on the grass, “I don’t know, I find it relaxing but at the same time… it makes me anxious? I want to capture everything I experience on video because I’m scared that one day I’m not going to remember any of this. Sometimes I wonder if I’m missing out on the moment itself but then I think about right now an—no, nevermind.”

Your brows furrowed as he stared down at the people skating, eyes narrowing as he listened to the next song someone played. It was late and that definitely wasn’t a skating song but it was one of his favorites and he had to say it, “I like this song.”

Bloodhail played somewhere off in the distance and he softly hummed to the beat but you were too focused on what he never finished saying instead, “What were you going to say?”

Jungkook played with his lip ring, the beating red light from his camera recording in his peripheral as he shrugged, “It’s nothing.” There was a small pile of loose grass blades he’s pulled from the ground next to him.

He looked at you to see what you had to say but instead you just stayed silent, slightly drawn back from him and he didn’t want that. It’s not like what he was going to say was bad but… the two of you have only ever flirted. What if he said something that pushed you away? But what if he chose not to ever speak up and you got tired of waiting?

The song really was one of his favorites but he’ll admit he used that as a distraction to change the subject but he couldn’t just not answer now.

“I think about what would happen if I didn’t have my camera when I’m with you,” Jungkook confessed, laying on his bed to look up at the stars, “Would I remember everything you said? What jokes I said that made you laugh? Or even the way you looked at me? I wouldn’t want to forget these things.”

All that was heard for a good long moment was the sound of the music and muffled noises from people still around. He felt his stomach tighten, shaking his head in the grass, “Shit, sorry, that probably sounded weird.”

Your eyes met and for a second he forgot where the two of you were or that his camera was still recording at a bad angle, “What will you do when you’re done filming us?”

“Give the tapes to you, maybe keep a couple,” Jungkook answered truthfully, “They’re as much yours as they are mine.”

“But you’re the one always recording,” you told him but he just shrugged.

“Because I like it and I like you and I just want to capture every moment we have,” his words sounded more confident now as he sat up not wanting to beat around the bus anymore, “So, Y/n, will you go out with me?”

․ ∘ ⊹ ✰ ┆ THE END ┆ ✰ ⊹ ∘ .

A chill ran down your spine as the song you currently listened to matched the one that had played in a video that was seven or eight years old. As much as you’ve told yourself you’ve changed your music taste has stayed the same and the strange serenity you felt in the beginning with Jungkook never changed either.

Why were you missing him?

It was another late night at the studio, Jungkook spent more time there than at his apartment lately and tonight was no different. Although he did have plans with Taehyung and that blonde he had been telling him about, he’s not sure if he’s interested in actually going. He met her a couple nights ago and Taehyung was right, she’s great, honestly, but something didn’t click right away.

If he met up with Taehyung for this ‘double date’ that might give her the wrong idea and he doesn’t want to hurt her. If he could have her as a friend that would be best. He’s just not ready to give himself to someone when his last break up ended because of something so stupid that he just couldn’t let go.

Jungkook stood outside under a poorly lit street lamp just outside his studio as he smoked a cigarette, taking a small break from photo developing. His studio was located on a quiet street uphill, it had a simple cinderblock look and it wasn’t big but it was somewhat popular. People liked to see his photographs and he would do photoshoots, sell cameras, fix them, he did pretty much anything you could do with a camera. Business might be slow at times but it was peaceful and he made a living wage off doing something that he loved, that’s all he had ever wanted. He was content with where he is now at only 26 and his own business. He didn’t mind being single nor did he care to change that… so he decided he was going to miss out on tonight.

Once he finished his short smoking break, he put the bud out on the floor with his shoe and picked it up to dump in the trash. Just as Jungkook turned back to the door of his studio, he seemed to go still.

For a second he debated rubbing his fists into his eyes in hopes of washing away this mirage but all he managed to do was blink, speechless and frozen. You weren’t better off despite being the reason he was stuck like that and all you could do was stare at him in disbelief.

It was very obviously Jungkook, there was no mistaking it but it also looked like someone completely different in a sense. The Jungkook you dated always dressed in band tees too small for him, spiked chokers, checkered belts, the full emo scene of the time minus the side swept hair—he preferred the longish curls instead. He had a lip piercing and a belly button piercing but that was it. Now you’re looking at him and you’re seeing a man after six years realizing just how much time had passed. He had a tattoo sleeve and small gages, a lip piercing and he wore overly baggy black clothes. His hair was short and straight but it looked good on him and you can’t believe you’re admitting that to yourself right now.

“Is this JeonStudio?” You asked as calmly as you could but your voice still betrayed you at the end. You avoided his gaze, choosing instead to eye the small building somewhat proudly and awkward too. Coming here was on a whim, you had been out with friends when you got curious and searched him up. Yoongi had told you he owned a shop so it wasn’t hard to find and honestly… you didn’t expect to go in and actually see him. Imagine your surprise when he caught you standing outside slightly tipsy? “I don’t suppose you’re open at this hour.”

Jungkook just looked at you, heart racing and half tempted to smoke another cigarette due to growing anxiety but you seemed so casual and he didn’t want to overreact. It’s been too long anyway, he’s dumbfounded. He cleared his throat uncomfortably before walking to the door, not bothering to look back at you as he held it open for you to go in.

Immediately you winced at the loudness of the rock song that played, ears nearly sore from the volume as you stepped into the dark studio. Korn’s ‘Coming Undone’ played loudly as it reared its end and Jungkook left you alone for a moment to lower it back down, skipping the song in favor of listening to something by Alice In Chains. You’ll like to correct yourself; Jungkook might look slightly different because he’s older—but he still seems like the exact guy you left six years ago.

“So what can I do for you?” Jungkook’s voice sounded deeper, more manly and when he stood behind his glass counter of cameras with his hands leaning against it, silver rings on his tattooed fingers and a slight smell of nicotine, you were brought back to before. He let his gaze travel over you in half surprise and half amazement.

Just seeing you after having you stuck in his head for a couple weeks now was a surprise, but to see how you’ve changed? He was amazed. It’s not that you were a completely different person but… wow you’ve grown. You no longer wore your ripped fishnets or beaten Converse and Dr. Martens. Your hair wasn’t in knots and your makeup wasn’t smudged or messy like you did it in the back of a bus on your way to work.

You looked… you looked good, like a matured version of yourself who wasn’t shy to show small hints at what you used to be like.

“I just…” you trailed off looking around the room, “I heard you had your own shop an—“

“And?” Jungkook asked with a firm expression making you look back at him, “I’ve had it for a couple years now, why the sudden interest, Y/n?”

He acted cold and it was a bit of a surprise and you scolded yourself for thinking that. It’s not like you expected him to be all smiles seeing you again. God, why did you come? It felt like one second you’re leaving your friend’s movie night to go home and next you’re standing outside of his studio as he smokes.

Maybe you’ll just leave before you do anything embarrassing.

Jungkook watched you with a blank expression but he would be lying if he said his heart wasn’t racing as he watched you look around. He stood behind the glass case of cameras where the register was at and waited for you to say something.

The changes were subtle but there was no way he could miss them. The biggest was of course your fashion style now, it was different yet he could still pick up hints of how you used to dress. You still preferred black shoes and silver jewelry. Your hair was styled differently now but it still suited you perfectly, you still had your nose pierced and your nails painted.

Something that didn’t change was that familiar sparkle in your eyes when you were curious and right now he could see it as you did a 360 of his studio. He didn’t notice the way his finger began to tap anxiously against the glass waiting to see what you would say about it. He wasn’t looking to impress you or anything but…

“All of these are yours?” You asked as you stepped closer to a portrait on the wall with blue and black hues. Your gaze never shifted away from the portrait so he was forced to give you a verbal response, “Most, some are Taehyung’s.”

At the mention of your old friend you seemed to freeze up a little, “How is he?”

Jungkook couldn’t hold back a scoff as he crossed his arms over his chest, “He’s great, thanks for asking, don’t you want to ask how I am?”

Once again his slight attitude caught you off guard but you weren’t going to let it bring you down, you’ve come this far in your reconciliation. Your eyes narrowed as they met his glare and you rebutted, “I was getting there, jeez.”

This time around it was his turn to be surprised when you rolled your eyes and he hated that the corner of his lips threatened to turn upward in amusement. You finally quit looking at everything but him and turned in his direction like you were finally going to say something only for you to look up in search of the speakers that played a song you remembered he liked. Pink Maggit by Deftones started off slow and quietly but slowly raised volume that Jungkook had to lower it down a little more. He pretended not to notice his ringing phone that buzzed on the counter with Taehyung’s name displayed—probably wondering where he was.

“I don’t know if this holds meaning but I love this place,” you said and a shaky breath he hadn’t realized he was holding slipped out.

“Thanks,” Jungkook said with a huff.

“Seriously Jungkook,” you stood in front of the counter now, “It’s like everything you’ve ever wanted.”

“It is,” he agreed, studying you and falling silent.

The longer he stayed thinking the harder it became to hold himself back and this time, more gentle and calm, he asked, “Y/n, why are you here?”

His phone lit up once more and he flipped it to face down and waited for you to respond. You were quiet for a moment as you tried gathering your thoughts and in the end you found yourself sitting alone in his studio with him confessing about the tapes.

There was a slight tension in the air that seemed to blur out the background noise of the restaurant’s chaos. He felt it but he pretended like he didn’t as he looked at his menu, not sure what to order or if he was even hungry.

“Yuna thinks you’re not interested,” was one of the first things Taehyung said to him as the two met up for dinner one night. Jungkook had already expected his friend to have something to say about the other night when he ditched their plans because something unexpected happened but… but he hadn’t processed what Taehyung had said until it was too late.

“Who?” Jungkook asked absentmindedly, unaware of the glare Taehyung sent him that had him snapping back into realization, “Oh… Oh! Yuna? Yeah, sorry about that.”

“I mean it’s whatever to me but the two of you were really hitting it off,” Taehyung said with a shrug that had Jungkook rolling his eyes.

“Come on, we’ve met once and I was drunk,” Jungkook said, “She’s cute but… I don’t know.”

He ignored the way Taehyung’s eyes seemed to narrow suspiciously, “You don’t know? You seemed to be pretty good talking to her over drinks and now you don’t know? What made you ditch out on me anyway?”

Jungkook cleared his throat awkwardly, “Something came up—“

“No!” Taehyung groaned, “Don’t give me that bullshit. What was it?”

There was a slight pause in the conversation as the server came to take their orders but Taehyung just ushered them away to come back later. Jungkook ran his fingers through his hair, seeming exhausted before saying, “Nothing, honestly, just…”

“Just?”

“Y/n came to the studio.”

Silence filled the space between the two again as Taehyung stared at him dumbfounded. Jungkook couldn’t even think of anything to respond with either so they just sat there feeling the tension grow thicker by the second. After a while, Taehyung released a nervous chuckle and sighed, “Alright, for a second I thought you were being serious. Come up with a better excuse ne—“

“I’m being serious,” Jungkook said and Taehyung was finally able to see the small difference in his friend. His hair was a bit messier and he looked tired but he didn’t look bad he just looked different. “I was working late and you were blowing up my phone to get me to meet up with you guys but there I am smoking a stupid cigarette and she’s standing there like nothing ever happened asking if it’s open!”

“Shit,” Taehyung listened, “So what happened? That’s it? Did you talk? What did you talk about?”

“She asked about you,” Jungkook said with a roll of his eyes, “Then worried about me later but, she still had the tapes.”

“What tapes?”

“The tapes,” Jungkook didn’t care to clarify because his friend should know exactly what he is talking about. It took Taehyung a moment but realization dawned on him and he gasped, “All of the movies you made with her?”

“Yes,” Jungkook said, “I-I had forgotten all about them, honestly but then she comes along telling me she was moving and a friend of hers found them and they made her curious a—fuck, it’s so weird seeing her again.”

“Did Y/n change?” Taehyung asked, watching Jungkook nod his head. Jungkook really did look exhausted like he’s been thinking about this nonstop.

“So much but like… at the same time, it’s still Y/n,” Jungkook said with a small hint of a smile, “She’s still got the same look in her eye and her smile is still the same. I don’t know, we talked about the tapes but that’s really it an—“

“So go talk to her, even if it’s just to catch up,” Taehyung tried saying, half expecting his friend to reject the idea the way he’s rejected anything that had to do with you so to hear that he ditched him because you showed up out of the blue… he wants to know what this means.

In truth, Taehyung cared a lot about you both despite not being friends with you anymore. The three of you met at an impressionable age in your young adult years so it’s hard for him to act like he didn’t care about you two. You would hang out at the skatepark, record stupid videos, do stupid things at work, and you had been one of his best friends. To even hear that you asked about him made him feel good because there’s been so many times when he’s debated just picking up the phone and calling you but never brought himself to do it.

“You think I should talk to Y/n?” Jungkook asked as the server came back once more to ask if they were ready yet but once again Taehyung asked for another minute. He nodded his head, “I think… the two of you didn’t end terribly and if she came to find you then it wouldn’t hurt to talk. I know that it’s been six years and you don’t care anymore [ you’ve said that so many times now ] but personally I would want to see the tapes.”

Jungkook’s leg began to bounce anxiously under the table as he gnawed on his lip ring in thought. “So I should see Y/n?”

“I think so,” Taehyung said with a small smirk, “Or do you really not care because it’s been six years?”

There was a mocking undertone in his voice that Jungkook chose to ignore as he suddenly rose to his feet making his decision abrupt. Taehyung didn’t even bother stopping him as he left him behind in the restaurant, he just found it amusing. When the server came back to check if they were still not ready, Taehyung apologized for wasting their time and left them a tip before leaving too.

It has been six years, that thought hasn’t slipped Jungkook’s mind yet but that’s why he’s so confused. It’s been so long and you dumped him so for you to reach back out to him suddenly telling him you still have the tapes… don’t you realize how that can mess with his head? He’s over you, you’re over him so why would you do that? He has to know and that’s why he called the number you gave him the other night and asked to meet up.

When he got to your apartment building he was a bit taken back by the size of it. Compared to the small shoebox the two of you lived together in once upon a time, this was big and spacious. The inside was honestly what he expected. There was a record player in the corner with some old vinyls he knew you had: Deftones’ Around the Fur, Nirvana’s In Utero, Flyleaf’s Flyleaf, etc. You had a couple dead houseplants in various shades of dark green but no flowers, you seemed to still like the color black and you liked your bands and horror movies. On your coffee table was an arrangement of magazines all from the same publication and a drawing board next to it.

“Do you want anything to drink?” You asked from the kitchen, nervous to see him looking around so curiously. It was strange to have him here at your new place after claiming you were leaving the past in the past. Clearly that had been a lie because you’re the reason he’s here right now, you’re the one who reached out to him so you have no right to feel weird about him calling you tonight.

“Just water,” Jungkook mumbled to himself as his eyes casted down on the rundown box that he had been trying oh-so-desperately to avoid. It was shut but not well and the tape player laid next to it connected to the TV. He was itching to go through the tapes but he was also scared of what he would find on them.

Instead, he walked over to your record player looking through the various vinyls to see if he could play one. You’ve had the same player for years, it’s one he bought with you so he was well used to it and for some reason, he didn’t hesitate to go to it and play something himself like he used to. He chose a Deftones album and ‘Sextape’ began to play just in time for you to come to him with a glass of water looking at him curiously.

“Sorry,” Jungkook said once he realized he had subconsciously done what he used to do anytime he came over to your place, “Force of habit?”

It was stupid that a habit he had six years ago was coming back to him but for some reason seeing you again was making him realize how much the two of you used to love each other. He doesn’t think he has feelings for you still but he did miss you and he’ll never deny that.

Okay, false, he denied it all the time to Taehyung but that was then. He thought he would never see you again and if he did it was just in passing and that you would barely acknowledge him but that’s not what happened and he couldn’t help but miss you. If only he knew you felt the same but he always struggled to read you.

“It’s alright,” you said, moving to sit on the couch with his glass on the table letting him come join you. He sat down with a foot or two of space in between and looked around making you smile. You didn’t mean to smile but he just seemed so curious and intrigued by everything in here and as he looked around you looked at him.

God, he looked different. Last time you didn’t get a good look at his tattoos but right now you’re taking them all in with interest. Back then he would go on and on about all the tattoos he would get and now that he has them, you’ll admit he looks so good. He seemed to be doing so well for himself and that made you feel happy to see him doing what he always wanted to do. The confidence just radiated off him when before he was always a bit more insecure.

Not even just in his future plans but his looks too and now you’re noticing how buff he’s gotten. His arms and shoulders were huge and he looked intimidating, you’re sure if the 18 year old Jungkook saw what he looked like now, he wouldn’t believe it.

“How many have you watched?” Jungkook finally asked in regards of the tapes and for a second you forgot that’s why he came and it wasn’t just to catch up.

“A few, not all of them though,” you confessed looking at the box, “Some are hard to watch.”

He didn’t need you to elaborate to know what you were talking about. Toward the end of your relationship, there wasn’t a time Jungkook wasn’t recording you too and unfortunately that meant he caught a few rough moments on video. He developed them on tapes because he didn’t want to waste them and when he had given them to you he was mad and wanted to be petty so he gave them all but now he wishes he didn’t.

He realizes now that he’s not mad about the past. You dumped him because you were going to school and Jungkook wanted to go back to Busan with no real plan for his future. You worked so well together but it was so obvious that you reached a point where you wanted different things and you’re the one who had the guts to end it. Of course at the time it destroyed him but now that he’s grown from it, he can’t be mad anymore.

“Do you want me to play one?” You asked once he fell silent for too long. Jungkook bit his lip nervously before nodding his head shyly. You left his side to go set everything up and he just watched you feeling anxious. He hasn’t seen these tapes in six years and he’s not sure what to expect.

․ ∘ ⊹ ✰ ┆ JJK 21: THE ARGUMENT ┆ ✰ ⊹ ∘ .

The video started with a view of a snake terrarium in your old bedroom. It belonged to Jungkook but when he moved in with you, he brought it with and it stayed. It was red and warm with a small snake hiding in its cave but it was pretty and the two of you used to pass time staring at it with curiosity. There was a soft rock song playing in the background but it was muffled by your voices.

In truth, Jungkook had forgotten he was recording.

“So you’re going back to Busan?” Your voice was a bit groggy and low like you were scared to raise your voice too much. It was late and the two of you had spent most of your time at some manga store after work and have just now gotten home. You’ve been quiet since you had dinner and this is the first thing you’ve said to him since.

Jungkook was in a small Korn band tee that didn’t cover his full waist and showed a bit of his belly button piercing but he never really cared how his clothes fit him. His black jeans were always baggy and torn and his beanies always flattened his hair. He used to have a certain look that drew everyone’s attention even when he didn’t want it.

“Come with me,” Jungkook said in his deep tone, “I know it’s sudden, Y/n, but I don’t want to leave you, I don’t care if it’s not that far.”

“So why leave at all?” You asked, sitting down on bed avoiding his gaze, “You can do whatever you want here, why do you want to go back?”

Jungkook stayed quiet for a moment as he thought about it, “I don’t know, I don’t feel at home.”

You didn’t say anything as you sat on the edge of the bed staring at the wall to avoid looking at him. He hasn’t forgotten that you haven’t answered him yet, “Come with me.”

“I don’t know,” you admitted after some time contemplating, “What would we do?”

“We can stay with my brother for a while, find a job and start working,” Jungkook offered excitedly as he dropped down to his knees in front of you, making sure your attention was on him and not the ground, “We’ll find a place together.”

“What about school?” You asked. You’ve got about a year left, if that, and you can’t just move somewhere else and register all over again. You’ve got internships lined up and the right connections here. You have plans.

Jungkook’s brows furrowed, “You can transfer, it’s not hard, right? Just think about it Y/n, just you and me. We don’t have to worry about your family or anything else.”

“I can’t.”

For a second he wondered if you said anything at all because it was so quiet but when you looked up at him apologetically, he asked, “Why not?”

“I can’t just pick up everything and leave with you Jungkook,” you told him, slightly bothered by the fact that he didn’t understand that, “I’ve got plans that don’t involve me moving to Busan with a boy I’ve dated for a little over a year and who I probably won’t even be with for long.”

“What?” His face hardened as he listened to you, “You don’t want to be with me?”

“I didn’t say that,” you sighed, “I’m sorry, that’s not how I meant it, I just…”

“Just what, Y/n? Because last night we were talking about spending forever together and now you’re saying we won’t be together for long?” Jungkook said with a scoff as he stood up, his camera completely pushed to the back of his mind.

You ran your hand over your face with worry, “That was before you told me you want to move back to Busan,” you said honestly, “I don’t want to go anywhere, if you want to go and start over somewhere else then do it but you can’t just ask me to change everything I’ve had planned just so I could follow you. You don’t even have a real plan to go back. It might not feel like home to you here, Jungkook, but it does for me and it’s not fair that you can just ask me to pack up and leave when we’ve got nothing going on.”

“We have each other,” Jungkook’s voice was softer because he sounded hurt, “Isn't that enough?”

“For you, maybe, but not for me,” you argued coldly, “I can’t change my life for you.”

Jungkook stood there seemingly frozen as you got up from the bed, pushing past him and locking yourself in the bathroom away from him. He wasn’t sure what to think right now other than this was the first argument the two of you have ever had. It was an argument, right?

What even happened? You had spent such an amazing day together, he picked you up after your last class and you went out to eat. You went to a park where he played a song for you on the guitar you bought him and the two of you had been laughing all day. It felt so sweet until the moment he mentioned Busan and suddenly you had grown distant.

Suddenly you were saying the two of you wouldn’t last, is that true?

“Y/n?” You could hear Jungkook call for you with a small knock on the door, “Babe, can we talk?”

“I don’t want to,” you sniffled, “I just want to be alone right now.”

Jungkook pulled away from the door feeling dejected and blown off. He ran his fingers through his messy hair anxiously and looked around your shared bedroom for his things. He’ll just give you time to yourself and maybe later you could think things through again.

As he looked for his phone and keys, his eyes landed on the camcorder that captured the moment his snake left its cafe to curl up against a small log. He picked the camera up curiously, eyes widening as he saw it was recording.

․ ∘ ⊹ ✰ ┆ THE END ┆ ✰ ⊹ ∘ .

Jungkook sat there as still as ever, staring at the screen with glossy eyes as he watched the frozen image of himself pick up his camera—realizing he left it on. He looked down at his glass of water, feeling his throat become dry as he brought it to his lips, hand shaking.

Although it was six years ago and he had not thought about it once… seeing this video just brought him back to that day. It wasn’t the only argument the two of you had but he must’ve learned his lesson and kept the camera off. Later on the two of you argued and you said some hurtful things to him that you later apologized for but it didn’t make him feel any different.

That was the moment he realized maybe the relationship really would not have lasted long.

“Jungkook,” your voice was so soft now, slightly deeper and more mature but anytime you said his name it made his head spin nonetheless like he still couldn’t believe it.

When he looked up at you, you’re not sure what you had expected but it definitely wasn’t the sight of his reddened eyes as he took jagged breaths trying to calm his racing heart.

It’s just… back then he had been struck with such limerence that all he could think about was the two of you together anyway it could be. Sometimes it didn’t even matter if you weren’t sexually intimate, just knowing someone loved him and wanted him was enough and when you broke up with him… it hurt. It hurt really fucking bad and this video reminded him a bit of how that felt.

“I kept some tapes too,” he finally admitted, clearing his throat and changing the subject in hopes that you wouldn’t see how he was feeling. He circled the rim of his glass with his index finger as he looked down at his lap to avoid your soft gaze. A smile came to his face as he scoffed, “Um, this is kinda embarrassing to admit but… the last person I dated dumped me because I wouldn’t throw them away.”

“Because of the memories?” You asked quietly and he nodded. That’s how Jungkook was, once he told you how he never wanted to forget anything no matter how it made him feel and in this case he wanted to remember you no matter what happened and in a sense you had been the same. You wanted to keep the tapes because being with him had felt like home to you and you never wanted to leave it behind even if you said you were over it.

Watching them again was making you realize how much you needed Jungkook at the time and how much he had needed you. Maybe you still need him and it took you this long to admit that, knowing he couldn’t let you go either was like a slap in the face after the things you said to him.

The amount of times you argued that you had a future planned that didn’t need him in it only because you were heading toward different directions in life. Where Jungkook was more laidback, you were uptight and that had not been a good mix then. You told him you couldn’t just sit around in Busan and only have what the two of you had to rely on because one day he might decide he doesn’t need you anymore and throw you away after you changed your life for him. In the end, things happened in reverse and you wish you could just take it all back.

“Y/n—“

Jungkook went quiet as the soft buzz of a phone ringing cut him off and he was thankful. He didn’t even know what he planned on telling you and that scared him. Would he tell you that he missed you or that he thinks it would be best to never speak again?

You both looked down at your phone screen as it sat on the coffee table with a picture of you and Jimin smiling happily as he called. Your gaze shifted to Jungkook, “What were you going to say?”

The call came to an end and your attention was on him but he didn’t want to speak anymore and before he could tell you it didn’t matter, this stranger called again. He cleared his throat, “Um, you should answer that, it’s late anyway and we’ve both got work tomorrow. If you ever want to talk again… maybe we can, you have my number but I should go.

Your brows furrowed, shaking your head no as he set the glass down next to your ringing phone and stood up suddenly, “Jungkook, wai—“

He didn’t stop till he was out the door running his fingers through his hair, feeling exhausted and unsure of himself.

Watching that video reminded him that the two of you broke up for a reason and it had been valid at the time. It has been the right decision too even if it hurt and although it felt like a ‘Right Person Wrong Time’ moment, there’s nothing to do now and there’s no point in dwelling on the past.

He’s moved on.

Just as you debated following him out, your phone rang once more and with a dejected sigh, you answered, “What do you want?!”

“Whoa, chill on the attitude I’ve been trying to get you to answer because I have a serious question,” Jimin said on the other end of the line. Your face softened as you grew curious and worried “What is it?”

“Am I a gold or silver jewelry type of guy?” Jimin asked as he held up two matching bracelets in thought. You went quiet on your end and he raised a curious brow only to wince at the second your voice rose a couple octaves.

“Are you fucking serious right now?” You groaned, throwing yourself back on your couch annoyed that Jungkook left in such a hurry because Jimin had been blowing up your phone.

“Dead serious.”

Click.

“Hello?” Jimin spoke to himself hearing the line end, “Did you hang up on me?”

The end of the week came quicker than you had expected and yet time felt to slow down for you too. Ever since Jungkook came to your apartment and watched that video with you, you haven’t been able to stop thinking about it. The look in his eyes had captured your attention more than the video had but when he left without finishing what he was going to say… that’s when you got caught up. He used to always do that to you, he would start to say something and then try and push it away so he should know by now that you would think about it.

You just can’t help but wonder what he was going to say and it’s been eating at you for days.

“Y/n, can you pretend to listen to me?” Jimin asked as he bumped his wine glass again at yours to get your attention.

“What?” You asked looking up at your two friends who stared at you with confusion, “Sorry.”

Somin’s brows furrowed, “What’s up with you? You haven’t even touched your food.”

Your plate sat there barely eaten while theirs had been cleared out. You seemed to have forgotten where you were and it wasn’t until now that you looked around to see the three of you were still sitting in a dimly lit booth having an extremely late dinner on a Saturday night.

“Nothing, I’ve just been… y'know,” you shrugged, lifting up your silverware in hopes of finding the motivation to finish your meal. You bit your lip anxiously, your friends watching you made you nervous and it was very apparent. You haven’t told them about seeing Jungkook again but you’re not sure what they would make of it and that’s the only thing that has stopped you. You’re not sure what you even make of it, much less what they would think but you’re starting to realize maybe you need a second opinion.

“I met with Jungkook,” you finally said and despite the loudness of the restaurant, your table seemed to fall silent as they both looked at you.

“When?”

“Well, the first time, a couple weeks ago,” you said honestly, “The last time… two nights ago.”

They shared a look with each other that you had no desire to learn the meaning of before Jimin asked, “This is the ex boyfriend, right? The VCR tapes boyfriend?”

“That’s the one,” you said awkwardly, “We watched a tape the other night, it wasn’t a good one but… I don’t know.”

“You mean you invited him over?” Somin asked, making you shake your head no and she continued, “He just showed up? So did he find you first?”

“Nope, I looked for him,” you told them, hiding your face in your hands, “I’m so stupid. I shouldn’t have done that.”

“Why?” Jimin asked, “Did you two argue?”

“No,” you told him, “No, we didn’t… it’s just…”

“It’s just now you can’t stop thinking about him,” Somin said instead of asked and you nodded your head yes. She released a sigh, “It’s been six years, Y/n.”

“I know,” you groaned letting your head fall into your hands further, “That’s why I’m so confused.”

“But was he mad or anything?” Jimin asked.

“No.”

“Then why don’t you try and talk to him?” He went on making you look at him.

“And tell him what?”

“That maybe you should start over—“

“No!” Somin said, “No, it’s been too long. Do you honestly think Jungkook would want that? All they did was talk, it just doesn’t make sense. It’s not like he's been waiting six years to hear from Y/n.”

You had to agree with her, you have no idea what Jungkook thinks about all this if he even does.

Not far from where you were with your friends was a packed street filled with nightlife and club goers all getting into their Saturday night and he was amongst them. He rarely chooses to come out for drinks and loud music unless it’s with his friends and this time was no different. After spending the past forty eight hours practically shut in his shop, Taehyung finally got him to come out to meet with the girls from last time.

Although he had sworn off meeting with Yuna again so he wouldn’t lead her on… he found himself doing it anyway. He just needed a distraction, you’re all he’s been able to think about and it wasn’t good for him. He couldn’t think about you like this.

You were his ex-girlfriend from so long ago and though meeting with you reminded him little by little of how well you used to be together… he can’t get over the fact that you left him. You left him when he needed you and that should have been the end of it. That had been the end of it. He had gone to Busan and you went your own way, when he came back to Seoul he only thought about you every now and then like when Taehyung would bring you up… or when he would remember the tapes… or listen to Deftones… or look at the guitar you gave him…

Maybe he did think about you frequently but not as frequent as this and he didn’t like it. You’ve been a constant in his mind since he first saw you standing under a street lamp not far from him asking if his studio was open. You’ve been a constant in his mind since he first ever met you too and it’s not fair that after you left him you get to come back and try to reconcile as friends.

“Want a smoke?” Taehyung asked his friend after he realized Jungkook had gone quiet for too long even when Yuna tried to ask him things. He didn’t give a verbal response, only nodded his head and began walking out of the packed club in hopes of more room to breathe.

Taehyung didn’t hesitate to reach into his pack of cigarettes and hand one to Jungkook watching his friend take it gladly and search his pockets for a lighter. He lit the end and did the same for Taehyung, looking up at the sky and attempting to tune out the loudness of the club behind him.

“So what’s up?” Taehyung asked, “You agreed to come out tonight but you seem out of it. Yuna’s been asking you questions nonstop and you’ve barely batted an eye at her.”

“I don’t know,” Jungkook took a drag of the cigarette, blowing it out shortly after with a shrug of his shoulders, “I’ll tell her I’m not feeling good or something.”

Taehyung didn’t say anything for a moment as he studied his best friend, finally asking, “Did you end up seeing Y/n?”

When Jungkook didn’t immediately react, Taehyung knew the answer. He flicked ash off the end of his cigarette and asked, “The night we had dinner?”

“Yeah,” Jungkook said, avoiding his friend’s gaze, “She didn’t ask about you this time, sorry.”

Taehyung just shrugged, knowing his friend was trying to lighten the growing tension but he didn’t care. He asked, “So then what did you talk about?”

“Not much,” Jungkook cleared his throat, a cloud of smoke covering his vision for a moment as he moved to the side to let a group of drunks through, “We watched one of the tapes though.”

“Which one?”

“It was an argument. I think it was when I first brought up Busan,” Jungkook admitted, kicking a rock with the tip of his black combat boot.

Taehyung nodded understandingly, “That’s it?”

“Pretty much, I left because some guy kept calling her,” Jungkook said, “I wasn’t sure if it was her boyfriend or not.”

Taehyung released a scoff, “You couldn’t have asked?”

“Why would it matter to me if it was?” Jungkook asked, “We’re exes for a reason, right?”

“And what was the reason, Jungkook?” Taehyung asked with a slightly harsher tone at his friend’s nonchalance, “Because you wanted her to follow you somewhere new and she didn’t want to. You’re back now, there’s no reason to not talk anymore so why didn’t you ask?”

“It won’t change anything,” Jungkook argued, annoyed by his friend’s need to always make him think about you when he didn’t want to, “So why bother?”

“Because it’s Y/n!” Taehyung said, “I get it, I really do. It’s been so long since you dated and it might not mean shit now but it did then and that’s never going to change no matter how hard you try and lie to yourself about it. And if it really didn’t matter anymore then you wouldn’t be out here tonight trying to forget seeing her again.”

“I went to see her because you told me to,” Jungkook said through gritted teeth.

“No,” Taehyung scoffed, “You went to see her because you wanted to, I just gave you the final push.”

“Nothing’s going to change thinking about her,” Jungkook said, “She’s a new person, so am I.”

“But on the inside you’re both still those same kids who ran away from home only to find it in each other again,” Taehyung said with a softer tone, “Come on man, I hate this sappy shit but open your eyes and realize that your home has always been with Y/n, that’s why you came back.”

“You’re wrong,” Jungkook glared at the ground, a lump forming in his throat, “She dumped me, she didn’t need me—“

“That’s not true and you know it, you grew apart because you wanted different things at the time but what about now?” Taehyung asked, “Y/n looked for you—I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want to make you mad talking about it but Yoongi called me a few weeks back—right before you told me she went to the studio. Who do you think told her you were back?”

Jungkook didn’t say anything as he watched his cigarette burn on its own. He remembers when you went and you talked about the tapes but he didn’t have the courage to ask how you knew where he worked or that he had moved back. He should have asked but did it matter?

The muffled sound of music and chatter blurred out the silence that had grown between the two friends and Taehyung knew Jungkook had nothing to say. When a phone began to ring and the chest pocket of Jungkook’s black plaid flannel lit up with the outline of a screen and Taehyung didn’t have to ask to know who that might be. He dropped his cigarette on the floor to put it out with his shoe before placing an encouraging hand on his friend’s shoulder and leaving him outside alone.

For a moment Jungkook debated following him back into the dark nightclub and pretending like he was having the time of his life with Yuna but he knew he wouldn’t. He reached into his pocket and answered the call without another wasted second of hesitation, “Hello?”

“Jungkook, hey?” Your voice sounded a bit hoarse and he could hear noise behind you, “Are you, um, bu—do you have a moment?”

Jungkook looked up at the moon, taking a deep breath coming to terms with the fact that he’s afraid to open himself up to you again even if it’s just as acquaintances, “I’m not busy.”

“Really?” You asked slightly surprised, “Well, I—I was wondering if maybe you… um… maybe you wanted to meet me somewhere? O-or if, y’know you’re home… maybe I could come over to talk about us? My friend interrupted us last time and I feel like a lot of things went unsaid.”

You mentally cringed at yourself for sounding so nervous but what else was there to be expected? If you didn’t tell Jungkook how you felt now then maybe it’ll be another six years before you get to do it again—or worse, you won’t get another chance.

Jungkook looked around for the street sign as if he could imagine the distance he is from your place, “Where are you?”

Your heart seemed to raise, “I’m out with friends downtown but I can leave right no—“

“Where downtown?” He asked, walking just a bit away from the club entrance, listening to you tell him the street, “I’m a couple blocks down from there, at Club X.”

“Club X?” You asked and for a moment he debated telling you he was just with Taehyung but you quickly said, “Don’t move, I’ll walk.”

“Y/n, wai—“

Click.

Jungkook ran his fingers through his hair nervously, looking around once more knowing he should just stay put but you told him where you were too and the thought of just standing here waiting for you to arrive didn’t sit well with him. It would be too long of a wait and if he waits any longer he’s scared he’ll back out from wanting to see you too… so he ran.

You left your friends without much thought to how they felt about it, you paid your bill and left them just like that, practically running out the door. Before Jungkook could reject your proposal you hung up on him and that meant that if he didn’t want to see you then he would be leaving soon and you had to get to him before he did. You just needed to be honest.

Your feet ached from the heels you wore but that didn’t stop you from running down the uneven sidewalk, bumping into people on your way and checking for traffic whenever you crossed a street.

You wanted to be with him again, or at least try to be even if it was just as friends. It didn’t even have to be romantically [even if all the romantic feelings you had for him came back], you’ll take whatever he gives you as long as you know that he might feel the same. That’s all you want to know, that he might feel the same so you ran to him.

Jungkook was out of breath but he moved at a quicker pace than you did, running so fast he nearly dropped the person that bumped into him but he caught them before they could fall and held them by the arm, “Sorry.”

You stopped, tightening your hold on his forearm in shock, “Jungkook?”

He nearly stumbled as he froze on the spot, looking down at the person he bumped into on his way to you and his heart raced, “Y/n.”

“Jungkook, I—I told you to wait,” you stuttered as the two of you stood there at the end of a crosswalk ignoring all the people that passed you, “I—it’s about us, I wanted to see you—“

“Y/n,” he repeated your name, eyes scanning your face for any sign that you might regret asking to meet him but he found none. Before he could stop himself, his hands had made their way to your jaw, pulling you closer and it was all you needed to see to throw your arms around his neck and drag him down to meet your lips with his.

Jungkook didn’t hesitate to kiss you back with as much need and desire as you had and let his eyes shut, relishing in the feel of your soft lips that he had forgotten the taste of. The small kiss had been everything he missed, so soft and tender yet there was no mistaking the intense longing in each languid movement of your tongue with his that he nearly forgot where the two of you were till a car was honking annoyingly at the public display of affection—egging it on.

You pulled back with a pant, trying to catch your breath as your eyes ran along his face trying to understand his expression, hands sliding down to his ribs unsure if you should hold him or not. There was a lot you wanted to say but right now you wanted to feel him like this more, “Where?”

Jungkook bit his lip, breathing heavily through his nose as he slid his hand into yours and pulled you toward the street raising a hand to call a cab, “Mine.”

He was also aware that the two of you needed to talk and he planned on doing that but first… first he just needed to have you in his arms again. He just needed to feel you want him back one more time before the weight of whatever the two of you talked about came crashing down and there was no going back. It’s been six years of not being with you, you would think any ounce of romantic attraction would be gone and yet every time he remembered you or thought about you, it hit him harder than before and he spent the cab ride kissing you like he would never get the chance again—and he might not.

When you got to his house, you didn’t get a chance to look around when Jungkook was dragging you back into his arms, kicking the front door shut and kissing you.

“We’ll talk after,” you said more to yourself than to him when he yanked off his unbuttoned flannel, walking you backwards down a hall.

“After,” Jungkook repeated, breathless as he pulled away to kiss down your neck, placing soft kisses along your jaw and down your jugular. You craned yourself back to give him more room and dunk your fingers into his short black hair. He let his hands roam down your body, memorizing the feel of you under his fingertips once more and gripping your sides as you released a small gasp when the back of your knees hit a bed and you were falling back. His hands went to your back feeling along the material of your short black dress he hadn’t had a chance to admire and gently touched your ass, making you breathless before you felt his fingers slip under the hem further to feel along your spine, pulling the dress up until you were taking it off.

“It’s been so long,” he whispered softly between small kisses along your shoulder blade, letting you fall back on the bed in nothing but your underwear and bra. He sat back on his knees, staring down at you with glossy eyes. God, he missed you so much. He missed everything about you from your body to the way you used to softly run your fingers through his hair.

Six years.

Six years without seeing you laying down underneath him sliding a finger between the valley of your breasts teasingly, reaching behind you to take it off. He watched, nearly hypnotized by the way you slowly revealed all of yourself to him, saying, “Too long, I’ve almost forgotten how you feel.”

Jungkook licked his lips looking down at your bare chest, sinking down to lower his head until his nose lightly brushed against your soft skin making you wither just a little.

“I’ll fix that,” he whispered, eyes meeting yours and pressing a light kiss on your exposed breast, warm breath tickling you and making you bite your lip with anticipation.

“I want to see you,” your voice was as soft as his had been and he couldn’t help but sigh in content, nodding his head and pulling back to undress. He yanked off the black t-shirt he had worn under his flannel and kicked off his black denim jeans throwing them off somewhere on the floor near his snake terrarium that produced a red light—a huge contrast to the blue hue of light the rest of his apartment showed. When he sat bare between your parted legs you took in the sight of him.

His tattoos danced across his skin with every flex of his arms and it was all so new to you that you wanted to memorize it all. You reached your hands out hesitant to touch him, and heard a quiet gasp come from between his lips when your hands ran over his chest feeling every ridge of abdomen muscle, until you touched the top ball of his belly button piercing—surprised he still had it. His muscles tightened, feeling your fingertip slide back up until you were tracing the patterns of ink on his arm and shoulder.

"Y/n," Jungkook said your name with such tenderness that you stopped and looked up immediately, watching him hover over you and lower his mouth to the expanse of your neck sucking on your skin lightly. You bit your lip with want feeling his kisses moving lower, kissing along your collarbone. You ran your hands along his back when his tongue licked down to the valley of your breasts, tracing circles around your hardened nipple teasingly, bringing one into his mouth and sucking gently. The tip of his tongue flicked at your bud before capturing the whole thing in his mouth and licking the end, hands running along your sides to keep your body in place.

He kept this up for some time that all you could do was lay there and attempt to catch your breath as he memorized himself with your body again. It wasn’t just your breasts that got attention, he kissed your ribs and stomach, down your arms and along your neck. When he kissed along your navel toward your pelvis, his rough fingertips played with the hem of your panties until you were lifting your hips enough for him to slip them off you, leaving you just as nude as he.

“I missed this,” he said hoarsely, hands sliding down your inner thighs until he was slowly pulling them apart and fixing himself comfortably between them, “I don’t think you realize how much.”

He didn’t even realize how much he had missed—he didn’t allow himself to and now that he’s done it, it’s all he could focus on.

“I missed you too,” your tone was soft yet he could feel the emotion through it and it made him pause for a moment, debating if this was a confession or not and if he should stop so the two of you could talk.

He hadn't even touched you in the place you needed him most and yet you were on edge already. It’s not like you had expected to even kiss—much less this—that you found yourself already aroused but it felt so good to have him touch you again. After so much time apart, your body still reacted to him the way it used to and part of that scared you to admit.

"Jungkook," you licked your lips when his hair tickled against your cunt meaning he was getting closer. He hummed in response. Your voice was dry as you asked, "Condom?" It took him a second to pull away looking you in the eye as he sat back. Realization hit him like a truck as he stared down at your naked body then his, painfully aware of his hardened member and how quickly you had made him like this with only some kissing and teasing. He shook his head, "I don't—"

You sat up enough to pull him down and kiss him again, wanting nothing more but for this to continue whether you had a condom or not. “I don’t care, if you don’t.”

It didn’t take him long to understand what you meant and with the way your tongue kissed his, he couldn’t deny you even if he wanted to. Before, he used to take his time with you, making sure he satisfied all your needs with his tongue or fingers—whatever you wanted and he had subconsciously decided to do that tonight too. The only difference is that it’s been too long to take his time, he needed you now.

Your eyes ran over his body, still in disbelief with the sight of him above you, watching his hand slide down his toned stomach to his aching member. He stroked the tip of his cock softly, in search of some release as he let you take all the time you needed to watch him. The room was quiet aside from your heavy panting and buzz of his heat lamp but it still felt so loud. Your blood rushed to your ears, realizing what the two of you were doing and for a moment you wondered if this was a good idea but it didn’t take long for you to realize you didn’t care either way. You could worry about the repercussions later.

Jungkook leaned down between your parted thighs until his lips brushed against yours and his hard cock pressed against your wet heat, “You’re still the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.”

Your heart dropped at his tender words, breath hitching in your throat and letting your hands touch against his arms, “Even after so long?”

There was a soft sound of a cricket not far outside the window and when he whispered, “Everlong,” to you, you had to stop and stare into his eyes in search of something to say. It was a small ode to Foo Fighters’ song ‘Everlong’ and how no matter how much time you spent apart, he would forever feel this way about you.

The red heat lamp did little to light the room along the moon but he still saw the way your eyes seemed to water, feeling your hands brush against his cheek, “I’m sorry.”

He seemed to freeze even as his cock aligned with your folds, coated in your arousal and all he needed was one push of his hips to feel you once more and yet he stopped, “Sorry?”

Did you want to stop?

Did you realize that this might not be the best idea?

Had he said something that made you want to leave?

“I was scared,” you admitted suddenly, “We wanted different things and I was scared that you would realize that after it was too late and you would just throw me away.”

He resisted the urge to scoff, bringing a hand up to push your hair out of your face and onto the pillow, “You know I never would have, baby.”

The pet name slipped out without his intention, “I never loved anyone as much as I loved you.”

It didn’t slip by either of you his use of past tense but you understood what he meant and you hated that you couldn’t before. It’s crazy how a silly little friendship between two coworkers who like the same music and style had developed so far out into the future that when your relationship ended, you couldn’t ever fully move on.

“I want to feel you,” you whispered, your nose brushing against his as he dropped his head to look down at the small space between your bodies. Jungkook was gentle in finding your entrance with the tip of his cock, guiding himself between your folds until you released a gasp at the stretch. Although it hurt for a moment, it didn’t take your body long to get used to him—like it had been waiting to feel him all this time and your mouths drew open in silent gasps when he bottomed out waiting there for the stretching. Even without foreplay your bodies seemed to know exactly what they needed to do and you hugged him, releasing a small moan in his ear as he dropped his head against your neck. Jungkook felt his heart race as you clung to him, letting him get used to feeling your walls around his dick once more and for a second it felt like too much, “Oh fuck, I missed you.”

“I missed you so much,” you confessed with a sigh when he drew his hips back slightly before bringing them forward in a single thrust as if testing the waters first, “So much, Jungkook.”

What’s crazy is how you had been so unaware of it as if some of the things you did weren’t constant reminders of him that you had to force yourself to forget. You still wore beanies because of him, you listened to fucking Korn because of him, you still slept on the right side because he liked the left—even when past partners would argue that they liked that side too, you never changed it. You had craved him in every aspect of your life even when you had forgotten it… that’s why you kept the tapes.

You let out a moan from his slow thrusts, in and out, in and out, dragging his cock out slowly as if letting you remember what it felt like to have him inside of you against and it had your legs moving to wrap around his waist. You grip his shoulders tightly moving your hips in rhythm with his, it was a slow and sensual yet rough fucking that had you begging, “Jungkook, more."

He rose his head from your neck, hips thrusting his thick cock into your wet pussy, doing exactly what you wanted.

He licked the corner of your mouth as you watched his hips draw back before pushing forward harshly, “I wanted to stop thinking about you, baby, but I couldn’t.”

You heard him clearly and you didn’t need to ask to understand what he meant, you simply ran your hands down his toned, muscular back guiding him to fuck you harder as he went on, “Even when I thought I hated you, I couldn’t let you go.”

The two of you were supposed to talk after and yet he he was losing his rhythm and talking to you while passionately and aggressively fucking you. “I’m sorry,” you repeated with a soft moan, “I should have never left you.” You kiss him for a moment before he moves down and leaves a bite on your chest making you whine out from it and he moves his hands down to your hips, gripping tightly as he fucked you harder, “You’re right, you shouldn’t have.”

" Jungkook," you moaned again, clinging to him, feeling your climax close, "I still love you."

He seemed to come to a halt at your sudden confession and you nearly pushed him away, surprised by yourself and your impulsiveness but he only pressed his body harder against yours.

"I love you so fucking much," he growled into your chest as he began to pound into you. The room filled with a string of moans as he fucked you unlike he ever had before, completely different yet still as passionate as he used to and moaned into your ear, “So close.”

“Ngh,” you gasped, “You feel so good, I think I’m gonna cum soon.”

“Mhm,” he hummed in content, clinging to you as much as possible, “Please, Y/n, I need to feel it, one more time baby, it’s been so long since you came for me.”

His thumb had slid down your body until it found your clit which had hardened with arousal and he rubbed light patterns around it, feeling your walls twitch and it became harder for him to drag his cock back out with the way you tightened.

“I’m going to cum,” he admitted, nails digging into the soft flesh of your thighs urging you to let him go but your legs held him in place and he realized what you wanted—he wanted it too. He didn’t want to pull away from you for even a second and as your walls convulsed around him with release, he couldn’t help but let go with a moan.

He held your body to his panting heavily as your sweat covered bodies clung to each other desparatelt, both letting your orgasms ride their wave before pulling apart.

It took him a moment to gather enough strength to pull out, doing so with a small tired grunt until he was rolling onto his back feeling out of breath, hand searching for yours on the bed.

The realization that the two of you just had unprotected sex after six years apart seemed to hit you first and you sat up worried, looking over at him as he struggled to catch his breath, “Bathroom?”

He lifted a tired hand toward his en suite and you left him tired and alone in the darkness of his bedroom.

You cleaned yourself up as best as you could, trying not to let what just happened cloud your mind and remind yourself that you had wanted to talk to him. You’re not sure what this meant, if this meant anything more than just sex between ex lovers or if this was more but you didn’t have much time to question it when Jungkook knocked on the bathroom door and let himself in. He walked past you to the large bathtub, running the water and letting it fill as he looked at you with worry, “You okay?”

“Yeah,” you nodded your head, biting your lip, “You?”

A small smile came to his face as the water quickly filled behind him, “Yeah.”

When the bathtub was filled, Jungkook took your hand in his and led you inside the water, “But we should talk.”

“I agree,” you said, suddenly shy by your nakedness and brought your knees to your chest, sinking into the water with your back pressed against the side of the rub. Jungkook sat on the other end, never letting go of your hand as he pulled you toward him until you were between his legs with your back against his chest.

“Y/n,” his voice was soft as he cupped water in his palm to pour down on your bare shoulder, “I really did miss you.”

You released your lip from between your teeth, leaning further against him, “I missed you too.”

“And I want to be with you,” Jungkook admitted, “Even if it’s not how it used to be.”

It was impossible to be how it was six years ago and he’s realized that now but he doesn’t care. If you asked him to be friends even after the passionate sex the two of you had just had, he would do it as long as it meant he could be with you.

“You don’t hate me?” You asked sounding worried. You still loved him and it was embarassing enough to know you finally admitted it when he was inside you but it didn’t change the fact that it was true. You loved Jungkook so much and maybe you always had deep down even when you told yourself you didn’t but could the two of you really try this again?

“I could never,” he said placing a soft kiss on your shoulder as he began to wash the front of your body with his sponge, “You know that.”

“But I left you—“

“No, I left you,” Jungkook said, “I’m the one who wanted to move Y/n, not you. I’m the one who made you feel like you had to choose.”

You stayed quiet and he worried he upset you.

“I came back because I realized that my home wasn’t anywhere else but with you,” he confessed, “And I was too much of a coward when I came back that I didn’t go looking for you the second I had the chance to.”

“Jungkook,” you turned to face him, cuddling into him in the bathtub and eyes wide with affection, “Let’s try, one more time. L-let’s, let’s give us a shot… I… I—I have so much I wish I could’ve done better and if you just give me a chance I promise I will love and support anything you do—“

“Y/n, I would give us a million chances over again if it means I could be with you still.”

::.

yallllll the took me forever 😭ik there wasn’t too much focus on their relationship in the tapes but that’s bc I’m gonna do drabbles of them when I get the chance

permanent taglist: @notmyfaultbutours @rerefundslocals @fandems @sugaluvmyg @guvgguk @kimyishin @libra04 @kooromiwrld @classycreationcupcake-blog @alwaysdreamingnotsleeping @cherrymonlightt @nikkiordonez12 @asking4-sanity @thvlover7 @saweetspoiled @uwu2rawr @shaybts-blog @babycandy111 @tearyjjeon @joons-uparupa @jeonninja @yellowcupid08 @02010802faves @knudsenheggedal edel @skzthinker @unnatae @aurorthi @beautywine e @95ene @taekookstata @lilliankoo @shescharlie @annenakamura @lesoleile @burnahtsw @babybella337 @kooloveys @ku-ku @chaelvrx @minnie-mouser22 @Imeneghd @whoa-jo @evajeonsworld @marvelbun n @sunnikthv @kochycooky @heyhowyoudoin3 @acielelyseen @giselleswifeee @jeonjk25 @ilikeitlikethatt @bangmechanpls @lvr2seok @badbyeyoongi i @jaerisdiction @watermelonjuice15 @artmsmaid @xyahrinx @angeleen777 @jooniesxbby @brillantdarling

#jeon jungkook #Jungkook smut #jungkook scenarios #Jungkook fic #Jungkook oneshot #Jungkook one shot #Jungkook angst #jungkook imagines #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x you #Jungkook fluff #Jungkook drabble #jungkook series #jungkook #jungkook bts #bts jungkook

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rambling-at-midnight · 6 months ago

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omg a part 2????

i loved it so much!!!

Ahh I'm so glad you liked it!!! It's my first Jason x reader fic :) Here's a part 2!

Pros and Cons of Midnight Snacks (Part 2)

Pairing: Jason Todd x Gender Neutral Civilian!Reader

Summary: Now it’s time for a meet-ugly-ish with some dude named Jason. Also, you see the Red Hood again.

Word count: 6.3k (holy shit)

You’re not crazy, right? It’s weird that the library is completely empty because it closes in two hours and the weather is actually nice outside for once, and some random dude wanders in and sets up two seats down from you. He’s not even here to study; he pulled out a sci-fi novel as soon as he sat down.

Who comes to a GCU campus library to read recreationally? The seats are uncomfortable and plastic. And the sun is shining. Everyone else is outside soaking up the Vitamin D.

Honestly, you’re mostly surprised the chair he’s on didn’t snap as soon as he sat. The dude is huge. Football player huge. Shouldn’t he be at practice, instead of forcing the chair to make the most irritating squeaking noises known to man every time he moves an inch?

You grit your teeth and put on your headphones, but you can still hear the poor chair’s dying lamentations, so you turn on an instrumental playlist that hopefully won’t distract you too much from studying.

You let yourself stew over the annoyance until your stomach growls so loud you hear it over the soft music. He has the good grace not to look at you, but you definitely see him pause.

Okay, you’ll call it even. This is what you get for running to the library right after six hours of classes. You need to cement the knowledge in your mind while it’s still fresh, and if that means you have to forego lunch…

He’s still there two hours later when the closing time alarm goes off. It’s a shrill old-school bell, the kind no one can ignore, and he jumps like he’s never heard it in his life. The poor chair finally gives up. He tumbles to the ground.

You look over in case he needs any help, but he’s scrambling for the book, face bright red.

If he is a football player, you wouldn’t be surprised that he’s never heard the bell before. That sort rarely stays this late at the library—if they enter at all.

He rushes out. You pack up a little more methodically. All that’s left for you to look forward to tonight is trying to study in your apartment, but you never have much luck.

He’s outside the library on his phone when you walk out. Maybe waiting for a ride? You’re a little on edge from the events of two days ago, so you watch him out of the corner of your eye as you walk away.

Thankfully, he doesn’t follow you.

At least the library closes earlier on Wednesdays, 6 pm instead of 9:30. You don’t know why. It’s still a weekday. But it forces you out while the sun’s still shining, which is probably a good thing.

Within two minutes of the twenty-minute walk home, your hip hurts. By the ten-minute mark, you’re trying not to limp.

Despite your better judgment, you keep your gaze turned to the rooftops, even though you know the vigilantes are nocturnal. It’s stupid to want to see a flash of red helmet, anyway. The Red Hood probably saves hundreds of people every week; there’s no way he would remember you.

Of course, when you finally get back, there are the stairs to contend with.

Your cat, that ungrateful little beast, beeps at you furiously for being gone so long. Never mind that your roommate works nights, so at most the cat’s been alone for an hour. He makes a break for the hallway, and you box the doorway with your legs and slam the door closed against your hip as you slip through.

Your injury explodes with pain, but at least the cat doesn’t get out. Ungrateful little beast. As if he isn’t fed and loved enough.

You finish slipping through the doorway and just stand for a moment listening to the blood rushing through your ears. Damn, but that hurt.

In the bathroom mirror, you hike up the hem of your shirt and check the state of your injury.

All in all, it could have been much worse. The bullet scooped out a fair chunk of skin, but it was just a surface wound. There’s no fresh blood on the gauze, and when you change the wrappings, the skin is pink and raw but starting to scab. It scooped out a chunk and left a trail of bruising, but you got off fairly lightly, all things considered.

The GCPD released the robber’s mugshot yesterday morning. In the picture, the man’s eyes were so swollen from your pepper spray he could hardly open them.

You preferred the bullet, honestly.

You try in vain to study a bit more, but even after you take more painkillers, you’re not in the mood. You feed your cat, then curl up on the couch to watch a couple episodes of the show you’re currently in the middle of.

That was the first time you see the huge guy, but it’s certainly not the last.

You wouldn’t notice him so much if he wasn’t the size of a damn refrigerator. He’s gotta be a linebacker for the Knights, but he’s not on their roster. You looked it up after the third time he wandered into the library just a couple minutes after you. It’s probably not updated yet, but you see him so often, you’d like to know his name.

Also, he’d bleached a patch of hair right at the front of his head—was that a trend now, or something?—so it wasn’t hard to spot him.

On Saturday, your feelings shift from mild annoyance and curiosity to a sinking sort of dread when you notice him at the coffeeshop you always visit on the weekends. The employees know you by name and use it to call out your order, so now he knows it, as long as he’s paying attention.

You think he might be.

You don’t want to be that person. Not everything in the world revolves around you, obviously. But you might still be shaken from what happened on Monday, because the thought wiggles in the back of your brain: what if you have a stalker?

You try to tell yourself that it’s just paranoia. GCU isn’t that big a campus, after all, and there are only so many places in the city that are: A. close to campus, B. reasonably priced, and C. comfortable to work in. You’ve run into classmates here before, and you don’t have a monopoly on the library or this coffeeshop. Just because he shows up at the same time you do doesn’t necessarily mean anything. He might be establishing a schedule that just so happens to line up with yours.

But, you have to admit, it is easier for stalkers to stalk people when they know their regular schedule.

You keep a watchful eye out and are pretty good about keeping off the streets after dark, but a week and a half later finds you stranded an hour’s walk from your apartment. The buses worked for two days, then shut down again, and you foolishly believed that following the detour that said would get you home would actually get you home. You don’t want to call an Uber because traffic would make the ride longer than the walk and bankrupt you in the process. Same reason you can’t call anyone to pick you up unless you waited the two hours until rush hour dies down.

Walking is, unfortunately, the best option.

So you clutch your trusty pepper spray and prepare yourself for a long night of looking over your shoulder and ignoring the pain in your side. The wound has mostly closed, although the bruising has gotten worse.

Three minutes later, you hear the roar of a motorcycle followed by angry car honks. You barely pay it any mind until the motorcycle pulls up next to you and doesn't pass.

You keep walking, avoiding eye contact. Maybe ignoring them will dissuade the rider from catcalling you.

It doesn't work. "Hey," the rider says, and it's only because the voice is mechanically distorted, recognizable only because of how many videos of him that you won't admit to looking up the last week, that you look at him. "What are you doing?" asks the Red Hood.

"What are you doing?" you counter. He's blocking the flow of traffic talking to you.

The Red Hood looks over his shoulder, flips off the person honking behind him, and steers his motorcycle onto the sidewalk. He drives fast, and you flinch in case he tries to run you over, but he screeches to a halt at the last second.

"Haven't seen you in a couple of weeks," he says casually, like you two meet up often.

"I've been staying out of trouble," you say.

"Not tonight?"

"No. That wasn't my fault, though. I took the Southwest bus because it was supposed to connect with the L line, but all the signs they posted were a lie, apparently, because—" You cut yourself off. "Never mind, I'm sure you don't care. Point is, I'm walking home. It's not too far."

"It's about an hour," he points out. "How's your bullet wound? Will it object to that walk?"

"I'll be fine."

He pats the back of his motorcycle seat. "Hop on. I'll drive you."

You take a couple hasty steps back. It may not be a white van, but you know better than to follow candy into someone's vehicle. "Oh, no, thanks. Traffic's pretty bad right now."

You get the sense he's smiling when he says, "I bet I can get you back faster than walking." If only he wasn't wearing the stupid shiny helmet, you would be able to read his expressions better.

"Really, I'm okay. I'm sure you have better things to do than drive me home."

"Helping people is literally my job," is his response. "I have to make sure you get home safely. So either you get on the back of my bike, or I follow you the whole walk back to your apartment."

You know a losing battle when you see it. As a general rule of thumb, it's usually smart not to argue with the dude carrying at least two guns. "Don't kidnap me," you order before slinging your leg over the seat.

He chuckles. It's the first time you've ever heard him laugh, and it makes him sound so much younger. "You can't ride like that."

"Like what?"

He cranes his neck to look back at you. There's at least six inches between both your bodies. You clutch the sides of the seat with both your hands, hoping he doesn't take off with such a lurch that you topple off the back. "I drive fast. You'll have to hold on."

"I am holding on."

"To me."

You've only met the man twice. You're pretty sure clinging to someone's back is at least a third-meeting type of touch, but he reaches back. The Red Hood snakes a hand nearly twice the size of yours into the crook of your knee, then yanks you to him. You shoot forward with a strangled yelp and catch yourself on his back.

You've never before understood the phrase 'wall of muscle,' but you get it now.

He is huge. And strong. You gingerly put your hands on his shoulders. That's not an inappropriate touch, you think.

He has to live at the gym, right?

"You're still not holding on," he chides. "I don't have a helmet for you, so you really shouldn't fall off."

You swallow and move your hands, but he's too thick for you to link your hands around his front. So you fist both of them into his jacket. It presses your bodies tight against each other from shoulder to thighs. Through the layers his body radiates heat, but you shiver.

"Going," is all the warning you get.

Then you're gone; the bike shudders beneath you, then takes off like a jet.

You can't catch your breath. This must be what riding a dragon feels like, is your first nonsensical thought, a side effect of your roommate's obsession with Game of Thrones.

The bike roars beneath you, but you can hardly hear it over the rush of wind and the pound of blood in your ears. You can't see much with the wind drying out your eyes, so you press your head against the Red Hood's back and squint to one side. Cars and street lamps blur together into a stream of mismatched lights and colors.

The Red Hood drives fast. He weaves between lanes, runs through red lights, cuts onto the sidewalk. A couple bikers shake their fists at him when he passes them in the bike lane. A lot of cars honk at the two of you.

Judging by the way his shoulders shake with laughter, he likes pissing them off. You have to admit, the feeling is a little intoxicating.

You can't hear the sound, but your front is plastered to his back. Even with the layers of his suit and leather jacket, you can feel the vibrations of sound deep within his chest. He has a fairly deep voice, after all, unless the helmet changes that.

No less than ten minutes later, he parks abruptly. You lift your head, blinking moisture back into your eyes, and stare dumbly at your apartment building.

He'd actually brought you back.

Maybe he really was reformed.

You stumble off the bike onto unsteady legs. The Red Hood kicks his stand into place and rests against the bike, leaning with elbows on his handlebars. Like he expects a Midwest goodbye. And you find yourself dawdling.

Maybe you want one, too.

"Thanks for the ride," you finally say awkwardly.

"Anytime," he says, and you laugh, thinking it's a joke, but he doesn't. After a brief awkward pause, the Red Hood tries, "So how have you been?" as if you're old pals meeting up for brunch, and the question is so ridiculous coming from a sort-of-reformed crime lord slash serial killer that you respond without thinking.

"Pretty good, except I think I may have a stalker."

His helmet doesn't do a great job translating whatever sound he makes in response to that. It comes out as a crackle. "What?"

"I've noticed this dude recently showing up wherever I go," you say. "But I think it's just a coincidence. Sorry. That was a bad joke." It wasn't, but you don't want to accuse someone without proof of stalking you. If he's not, you'll seem self-obsessed. If he is, then he knows that you know, and it's not like the GCPD will do anything. One of your friends from your hometown had a stalker for literal years, and the police never did anything, even after he sent her death threats. They said there wasn't enough proof to make an arrest then, so someone showing up at the same places you are definitely isn't enough proof now.

The Red Hood tilts his head. "Does he make you uncomfortable?"

"You don't need to beat him up or anything on my behalf," you say. "I mean, you've seen me with a bottle of pepper spray. I'm pretty sure I can handle myself."

"I know you can," he says. You can hear the smile in his voice, like he finds something about the situation funny. "And I'm pretty sure that you know that I'm going to check this out anyway."

"No," you say, surprising yourself with your firmness. You can't rely on vigilantes to solve all your problems for you. "Seriously, it's okay. Thanks for the ride. Maybe I'll see you around."

"I'm counting on it," he calls as you walk away.

And he's right. Two days later finds you at the gas station at ten-thirty at night. You don't want to see him, per se. You're definitely not looking over your shoulder at the slightest sound. You definitely didn't check the parking lot for a notorious red motorcycle on your way in, and you certainly aren't taking peeks out the window every time headlights pass by on the street.

You're just... curious.

Maybe.

But you have absolutely no warning, not even a suspicion that someone is behind you, when you reach for a box of Cheez-Its. Someone else's hand gets there first and you nearly jump out of your socks.

"Hey," the Red Hood wheezes. He's clutching his side like he has a cramp. "Question: if I buy these for you, will you patch me up?"

"What?"

"I may have been cut," he admits. Judging by the angle of his hunch, it's a little more serious than just a 'cut'. "So: do we have a deal?"

The thought occurs to you, as you help him up five flights of stairs to your apartment, that you're escorting a strange man into your place of residence. You haven't even given your roommate a heads-up, though you're pretty sure tomorrow's his night off.

Sure enough, the only person there to greet you when you walk in is your cat. As per usual, he tries to escape. The Red Hood gently but firmly ushers him inside with his foot with such ease he must have one of his own. "It's cute," he says, still clutching his side.

"Thanks," you say. "He always tries to get out, but if he actually escapes then he just freezes in the hallway until I bring him back inside." Then you realize that you're discussing your cat, of all things, with the Red Hood. You clear your throat and say, "Let me take a look at you."

The crime lord and cat trail after you into the bathroom. It gets a little cramped because the Red Hood's about as small as a fridge is small, but you two figure out a passable system: he's too tall, even while sitting down, and you don't want to bend in half while you stitch him. So you sit on the toilet, he stands in front of you, and your cat jumps on top of his leather jacket on the counter to observe and judge. Luckily, the suture kit is still in the bathroom from when you thought you would have to stitch yourself up, so it's not long before you're instructing him to lift up the hem of his shirt so you can see the damage.

You hiss between your teeth at the sight. Someone grazed his side with a knife, by the looks of it, but the wound is deep. It might go all the way to his subcutaneous tissue.

After you clean it off, you're sure that it does. "You call this a cut?"

"I've had worse," he says gruffly.

"And you're still alive?" You squint at him.

He huffs like that's funny.

"They basically cut you in two! I don't know if I can fix this. I've never stitched someone up before!"

"What do you mean?" He tilts his head. "You stitched yourself up, remember? You told me you would."

Shit. Of all the ways to stick your foot in your mouth—

"It wasn't that bad," you say weakly.

“It looked pretty bad.”

“It just looked bad because I was wearing a light colored shirt. Don’t worry; I’ve learned my lesson.”

The Red Hood scratches under your cat’s chin. “About wearing light colored clothing, or about getting shot?”

You’re trying to thread the suture needle, but the stupid thread won’t cooperate. “Hmm?”

“Which lesson did you learn?”

“The former, mostly. Believe it or not, ‘try not to get shot’ is something most people, including me, know intuitively.”

"Let me see."

"Yeah, right," you say, "my apartment's basically a strip club, isn't it? First your shirt's coming up, then mine. Absolutely—" You slap his hand away— "Not. I'm fine. Now hold still while I stab you."

The process goes by quickly. He stands like a statue the whole time, like he's used to the pain of getting stitches. Considering his profession, he probably is.

Actually, you can see a couple healed-over scars on his torso just from the small bit of skin he's revealed by pulling up his shirt. And, you're pretty sure, a perfectly defined six-pack, but that's none of your business.

"I don't have the fancy dissolving sutures, unfortunately," you say while you tie off the thread. "These should come out in about a week."

"Yeah, I know," he grunts, letting his shirt fall back down. And you're not disappointed. At all. "Same time next week, then?"

"What?"

"To get them out."

"Uh." Your brain stalls out. You'd been operating under the assumption that this was just another freak coincidental run-in.

Is it just you, or is the Red Hood looking to make a friend out of you? Or maybe just a free pseudo-surgeon?

"Sure," you say. It's not like you can stop him, really.

"Thanks," he says, stroking your cat one more time. Then he nudges the pest off his jacket and shrugs it on, even though there's not really a need for it. The weather's been pretty mild the last week.

You walk him out the door. He pauses in the hallway, turns, and says, "By the way, what's your name?"

You tilt your head and tell it to him.

"Nice to meet you," he says. Then he walks away.

You watch him walk down the hallway until your cat escapes, and then you have to chase him. You're pretty sure the Red Hood sees it, because low-pitched laughter hits your ears as you gather the little bastard up, but when you look, the vigilante's gone.

"God, I hope he's up to date on his tetanus shot."

You find yourself at the coffee shop the next morning, determined not to let a buff bookworm change your routine. You're the first customer, and they have your order ready by the time you finish setting up your stuff on a small table in the corner of the shop, far from where the line will build up when more people trickle in.

Like clockwork, the bookworm wanders in just a couple minutes after you do, orders two coffees, and settles down across the room with his front to you.

Every time you glance up, he's utterly focused on his book. He's probably not watching you. Right?

Fifteen minutes later, the coffees untouched, he stands up. You watch out of the corner of your eye as he picks one up, approaches the counter, and...

Walks right past it.

Walks in your direction.

You stare blatantly, and he holds your gaze with a set jaw and something a little challenging in his gaze.

He's walking to you.

The coffee cup slams on the table, splashing a little over the edge, and you jump to move your laptop away from the liquid.

"Shit, sorry," the bookworm says. He runs away.

You stare until you realize he's grabbing napkins and hurrying back. At least ten, even though the spill's pretty small, and he piles them all onto the table.

His face gets redder the longer you watch without saying anything.

Once he's absolutely sure your laptop is safe from the couple drops he spilled, he balls them all into one large fist and rushes out, "I'm sorry—I was supposed to meet my brother here, but he canceled, and your drink cup's empty, so I was just wondering if you wanted this one? It's a little warm, but..."

"But free is good," you say, deciding to put him out his misery. And he certainly looks miserable rambling in front of you. Like he's mortified for some reason. "Um, thanks. What..."

"Just an iced coffee. Probably watered down."

You take a sip, just to be polite. It is watered down, but he didn't add any milk to it, so that's probably a good thing. "Thanks..." You tilt the cup to look at the name written on the side. "Jason?"

"Yep." He nods. He's still standing in front of you, like he wants to be invited to sit, but you have a lot of work to do, and he's a complete stranger, and all his stuff is still on his table across the room.

Something clatters behind the counter. You both turn in time to see the two baristas duck out of sight, whispering furiously. Probably about the spectacle you two are making.

"You go to GCU's campus library a lot, right?" Jason asks suddenly.

"Yeah, I do. So do you." You don't phrase it like a question.

"Yeah," he says. "It's peaceful to read in there. Quieter than my apartment."

"Okay," you say slowly. You're really not interested in this conversation, but you don't want to be rude.

He must understand you, though, because he rubs the back of his head and steps backwards, mumbling something about getting back to his book.

Jason's brother never does end up meeting him. You tell yourself that's why you keep glancing at him. Once or twice, you two peek at each other at the same time, and you always look away first, face hot like he's caught you doing something wrong.

The next time you go to the library, it's packed. The weather has turned, so students have nothing better to do than prepare for their finals. You head to the quiet floor, slowly losing hope that you'll find a seat.

A head snaps up the moment you walk in, dark-haired with a striking streak of white at his forehead. Jason.

Something like relief passes over his face, and he waves you over.

"I saved your seat," he whispers, dragging his bag off of the chair.

"Thanks," you say, actually touched. "You didn't have to."

He shrugs. "You're my reading buddy."

The next day, he's sitting at the library's entrance when you walk in. Jason shakes his head. "All the seats were already taken when I got here."

"Ugh." Strictly speaking, you don't need to study tonight. You're pretty confident about the next test's material, and you're also pretty burnt out.

"We could check out the Student Center?" he suggests. As if it's a given that the two of you are going to spend the afternoon together. And, you realize, after two straight weeks of studying in his proximity, you don't mind the presumption. That's how you made your closest friend in undergrad, anyway.

In fact, you think you might want to get to know Jason. Maybe ask about his white streak; you've been growing more and more curious about it. And why he's about seven feet tall and two hundred fifty pounds of muscle but has a passion for romance novels.

"I don't think I've studied in there before."

"It's not too bad, but it's a little louder than the library."

So you two head to the Student Center, but he doesn't open his book, and you open your laptop but don't turn it on. He buys you coffee, though you insist that you can pay for it yourself, and a simple query into what book he's reading currently turns into a two-hour conversation.

Jason likes to read every genre, but he likes classics and romance best. He doesn't just have one brother, he has four, and a sister. He's not on the football team like you'd assumed; he just likes to work out. He's finishing up his sophomore year of undergrad studying English Lit—he sees how your smile freezes at those words, and you're asking how old he is, and he's laughing when he tells you he took a couple gap years. He's your age, actually, and that's relieving for reasons you can't quite put to words.

When you check your watch and curse at the time—it's almost time for your cat's dinner—he asks for your number, and you put it into his phone.

You feel good on your walk home. You haven't made a new friend since the first semester of vet school; the course load is too demanding for you to participate in any GCU clubs. Your roommate asks why you're smiling and you wave him off. Of course, your cat doesn't care that you're in a good mood. He only cares about getting fed.

You see Jason a couple more times over the week, and soon you're too embarrassed to admit that you thought he was stalking you. He's almost as bad a texter as you are, responding at such hours you're half-convinced he doesn't sleep, so you're less self-conscious about taking hours to respond.

You've just gotten around to answering his last text when something knocks against your window.

You drop the phone on your face.

The Red Hood is laughing at you when you open the window to let him in. You'd forgotten he was coming, but you don't say so. He tumbles in, moving a little stiffly, but a lot better than he'd been last week. Your cat, the little traitor, runs to greet him and rubs against his ankles, purring like an engine. The Red Hood bends to pet him. "Hey, kitty." The red helmet tips up and those unnerving white lenses fix on you. "Hey, doc. Here to get my stitches out."

"How have you been feeling?" you ask.

"Good," he says, almost defensively.

It makes you suspect that something is wrong, but when you all pile into the bathroom again like it's a clown car and he pulls up his shirt, the wound is healing nicely. No pink or heat that signals infection, no puffy skin. You remove the stitches quickly, and again he hesitates, like he wants to stay longer.

You find yourself thinking about Jason. You're pretty sure you wish he was here.

"Well, thanks."

"Anytime."

He pauses. "Really?"

You shrug. "I mean, not if you need a hospital. Then I'd expect you to head straight to a hospital. But stuff like this—no worse than this, ideally—I guess I can help you with."

"You're pretty cool for a vet," the Red Hood says. "The last one I visited kept freaking out on me for stealing codeine."

"Well, that's a restricted—wait, you were stealing codeine? What for?"

He shrugs.

"What were you using it for," you repeat sternly.

"Okay!" he says loudly. "Well, thanks for patching me up, doc. I'll see you later, yeah?"

"Wait," you call out uselessly, but he vaults out the window. You gasp and rush to the sill, but there's no Red Hood-shaped puddle on the ground. Instead, his rapidly shrinking form disappears in the distance, swinging between the buildings that make up the Gotham skyline.

You don't see the Red Hood for a while after that, but you hear whispers of him wearing a new costume. You get caught up with finals and Jason, who asks you out after the semester ends.

Your vehement 'yes' takes you by surprise. Him, too, judging by his wide eyes and wider smile. You wonder why he asked if he thought you would say no. You wonder why you didn't realize earlier how desperately you wanted him to.

Now that you're out of school, you pick up shifts at the vet clinic. By some unhappy circumstance, they can only schedule you for the evening shifts. Jason works nights, too, and you've never fully squirreled out where he works, but at least you can spend some days together.

It's when you're walking back from your first shift that you see the Red Hood again after almost three weeks of radio silence. He pulls up next to you on the motorcycle. It's so late that there's no one on the road, so he stays on the asphalt and idles along at your walking pace until you break and say, "Long time no see, Hood."

"Did you miss me?" he teases.

You stop walking, because.

Most of his costume changed. Because it's summer, and even the nights are hot and muggy, you assume.

The pants are the same. So are the boots. But his jacket is red and sleeveless and has a hood that goes down to his eyebrows, the armor beneath short-sleeved, which means most of his arms are bare.

And...

Your mouth is dry. You swallow.

You're pretty sure not even Batman is that ripped. He looks like he's chiseled out of marble.

The longer you're speechless, the more amused he gets. You don't know how you know that, but something about his posture seems smug.

"You're taking 'red hood' seriously now, are you?" is all you manage to say. Because what else are you supposed to comment on? His bare forearms? His veins are so beautifully pronounced, they would be a dream to take blood from, but you have a boyfriend of a whole one and a half weeks, and you may be many things, but you're not a cheater.

He laughs, then pulls his hood low when it slips back a bit. His voice is still modulated, although it's not through a red helmet anymore. This is more like a muzzle. You can't tell if the eye covering is part of it, or like the domino masks that Batman and Robin wear, but the lenses are red now instead of white.

He's really leaning into the theme.

"You want a ride?"

"We're two blocks from my apartment."

He shrugs. "I'm heading there anyway."

What the hell. You've already hopped on the back of his bike before. It's easier to do so the second time. You wrap your arms around his torso again, and when his arms settle over your own, they're warm with his body heat, but not hard, even though the muscles look sharp enough to cut glass. He's firm all over, but his skin is soft, apart from the raised, bumpy scars that seem to cover him from head-to-toe. It makes you worry about him, just a little.

He doesn't drive fast this time. He drives slow enough to hold a conversation and tosses over his shoulder, "So what's new with you?"

"Not much," you say into his ear. Is it just you, or does he shiver? "I finished another semester of vet school."

"Top grades, I'm sure. Did you get extra credit for patching me up?"

"I wish." No, your grades are good, but not exceptional. But exceptional is what got you into vet school. As long as you graduate with a DVM, even if you're the lowest in your class, you're a licensed doctor. There's some relief in that. "The dude I thought was stalking me asked me out, actually."

"Really?" he asks, interested and alert. "Was he really stalking you? Do you need me to scare him off for you?"

"No," you say, smiling at the thought of the Red Hood trying to scare off Jason. They're about the same build, now that you think about it, which you're sure the vigilante isn't used to. And Jason's never been anything but gentle and polite, but you saw an undercurrent of something strong, something like titanium, under that gentle spirit the one time he stood up for one of the baristas at the coffee shop that you first spoke to each other. He hadn't needed to do much apart from stand up and glare at the beleaguered corporate guy angry that there wasn't enough sugar in his coffee, and the dude shut up and scurried out as fast as he could.

It was probably the hottest thing you've ever seen him do, except for that one time you pushed your laptop a little too close to the edge of your desk while studying, it tipped over, and he caught it one-handed without looking up from his book. What can you say? Saving you a couple hundred dollars in getting that fixed was hot.

"It was a misunderstanding," you say. "We just ended up in the same places at the same times."

A gust of wind pushes back the Red Hood's hood, exposing a head of thick, dark hair, the same shade of black as Jason's. The motorcycle swerves in his haste to pull his hood back up, and when you reach your apartment and hop off the bike, he's pushing his hair back, back, beneath the hood.

What's the point of ditching the helmet if he's just going to be fussing with the hood all the time?

"What's new with you?" you ask, scuffing your toe against the sidewalk. Your shoes are falling apart; the sole is peeling away.

"Same old, same old," he says. His voice sounds rougher, but that might just be the new modulator.

"How's your side?"

"How's yours?" he counters. "You still haven't let me see it. I bet it scarred because you were too stubborn to take my advice and patch it up."

You will never admit that he's right. You challenge, "Let's compare scars, then," knowing full well his armor dips below his pants. It's a little silly to picture the Red Hood wearing an armored one-piece, but that's all you can imagine.

He clucks his tongue and shakes his head. It dislodges the hood. A patch of hair falls down to his forehead, and it's white.

But the back of his hair is black.

White and black—

Your stomach flips.

"I thought you had a boyfriend, honey. Why're you asking me to strip?"

So that's what all the teasing's been about. He hasn't been flirting—or he has, his own weird version of flirting, because he's a dumbass.

For a moment all you can hear is the rush of blood in your ears, then you flex your fingers to regain feeling in them. You roll your eyes and say, "I think we've established that my apartment is basically a strip club. Why don't you come up and show me, Jason?"

"Well, I'm flattered, but—what?" He splutters like he's choking on his own tongue. Serves him right. "I'm not—why do you think that—I mean, I could be anyone—"

Yeah, he can have his little crisis on the street. You tug on your own fringe, then swipe into the building.

You hear his muffled cursing as the door closes.

You look forward to him catching up.

(My requests are open, so let me know if you want me to write anything in particular! Also let me know if you want to be added to a taglist.)

Forever tag list:

@lemirabitur @annymcervantes @queenmissfit @quiet-because-it-is-a-secret @iksey @thehyperactiveteen @luxmoonlight @andreasworlsboring101

#reader insert #jason todd x y/n #jason todd x you #jason todd fic #jason todd x reader #jason todd

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slasher-fxcker · 6 months ago

Note

Hihi! I was wondering if you can do billy and stu and just the slashers reacting to their someone being hurt at their job and trying to hide it?

A/N: Okay I was going to do this request for multiple slashers, BUUUUUUT I started writing for Billy and Stu and got carried away. I love them too much

Billy & Stu Reacting to their S/O being injured at work.

Warnings: Swearing, mention of blood, brief mention of killing (but I mean this is the slasher fandom so kinda expected lol)

This blog is 18+, Minors do not interact

GIF by casualwriters

You hadn’t been working at the video store for too long but you loved it, your friend Randy had gotten you the job when they were desperate for staff. It was great for the boys too; Billy and Stu would stop by all the time using the place as their personal hang out much to your managers displeasure.

Every Saturday night the boys would swing by and pick some scary movies to watch together after you finished, unfortunately for them you were going to be stuck doing inventory tonight. As usual Billy wasn’t impressed about having to share your time with anyone other than Stu, “Just blow it off what are they going to do fire you?” you rolled your eyes as you continued getting ready. “Yes Billy, probably.”

Stu got up from his spot in front of the tv to try to pull you back to the couch, “Come on babe, do you really think you should be out at night? Don’t you know there’s a killer on the loose?” You try to supress your chuckle as he raises his eyebrows at you, his usual smirk on his face.

You fake innocence putting on your best fear filled voice, “Oh no, what will I do if Mr. Ghostface comes to get me.” Billy laughs one of his rare genuine laughs before Stu steps closer to you placing his hands on your waist, “I could think of a few things.” Smirking as he notices the way you flush at the suggestion. You lightly smack his chest as he laughs at himself once again before you press a chaste kiss to his lips. You grab your bag, blowing a quick kiss to Billy before heading to the door. “I’ll try to get back in time for movie night, but don’t wait up.”

Inventory was fairly boring, you tried to get it done as quickly as possible while Randy spent most of the night showing you his favourite scenes from various movies. Shoving another handful of popcorn into his mouth he continued his rant, “Come on how can you have lived your whole life without watching this movie? Quick you're gonna miss the best part!”

“Randy unlike you I’m actually trying to get this finished before midnight, now are you going to help me or not?” He sighs before finally getting off his ass and heading towards the storage room, 15 minutes go by and he still isn’t back to help. “I swear to god Randy if you're napping on the kart again I’m going to kill you.” You mutter to yourself as you head to the storage room.

You see Randy sitting on the kart going through a box of movies, you try to get a closer look before he sees you. You noticed the box of X rated movies he was looking at. “Randy you perv!” You didn’t realise you had snuck up on him before he jumped up knocking you into the shelves behind you both. Before you could move a box came off the shelf and fell onto you. Your head immediately pounded “Oh shit, Y/N!” Randy hurries to help you up, moving the various tapes that are scattered around to get you back out into the store, sitting up on the counter Randy starts looking over your head. “Oh shit, you're bleeding. Billy’s going to kill me.” You feel him practically prod at your forehead as you hiss in pain and slap his hand away. He helps you clean up the blood and tells you to go home, “Ill finish up here, it’s the least I can do.” You can see how sincere he is when he apologises. Your only worry is how you're going to explain this to the boys.

You decide to head straight home, hopefully the boys will think you just had to stay too late and will leave you be until tomorrow. That way you would at least have time to clean yourself up and come up with a story.

Looking in the mirror the damage is worse than you thought, the red tint on your forehead of smudged blood, the dried blood in your hairline and the bruising that was already beginning to show around the cut that could definitely not be concealed. You sighed as you wet a cloth in the bathroom sink raising it to your head gently, the pain immediately making you wince at the contact.

You raised your hand to try again when you heard something in your room, you looked out the doorway and saw what you could only assume was the boys sneaking in your window. You panicked and slammed the bathroom door closed locking it behind you. You hear the taller of the two call out to you as he knocks on the bathroom door. When you don’t answer he tries to open the door, “Whys the door locked babe?”

“Sorry Stu, I’m not feeling too well.” You try to sound convincing. This time its Billy that answers, “Come out here and tell us what’s wrong.” “Yeah we will look after you.” Stu giggles as you can clearly hear Billy push him away from the door. You feel bad hiding from them, “No its okay, you should probably go home in case I’m uh infectious or something. Yeah.” Your voice wavers and you know you aren’t convincing anyone.

Stu is quiet for once but you hear the edge in Billy’s voice as he speaks, “Y/N don’t lie to us, get out here.” You know they won’t leave, part of you wonders if it would be dramatic to climb out the window at this point. “Don’t make me break the door down.” You would’ve rolled your eyes but you knew he probably wasn’t kidding.

You slowly unlocked the door before slipping out of the bathroom, still not looking at either of them. You try to hide your face but of course they can see it, Stu is at your side immediately trying to make sure you're okay. He gently inspects the cut careful not to touch it. You try to ignore Billy’s stare but you can feel his eyes on you, looking at him for a second regret fills you when you meet his eyes. Billy might be a murderer but everything he does is so calm and thought out, never out of rage. You wouldn’t know that looking at him now, fists clenched at his side as his eyes narrow at you, gaze shifting between your eyes and the cut on your head.

Stu takes you to sit down on the bed, unsure of how to help you. He might be the most caring person when it comes to you but he’s also kinda hopeless. Billy’s gaze doesn’t leave you as you move around the room. Eventually after what felt like endless silence he walks towards you taking your chin in his hand and turning your face to look at the cut better. “Who did this to you?” Any other time Billy’s over protective tendencies would make you feel secure but seeing him like this, eyes dark and glazed over in anger didn’t bring you any comfort.

“No one did this to me.” He cut you off as his grip tightened slightly, “Don’t fucking lie to me. Who did this to you.” You don’t know what to say, you pull your chin out of his grip and sigh, “I was working with Randy and…” Stu seems to pull you closer protectively as Billy raises his voice again. “Randy did this to you?” Billy hated Randy already for so many reasons but this time Stu is the one to speak up, “That little fucker is going to pay,” he stood up and tried to walk away before you grabbed him, “No! I mean please just stay here with me,” you plead him as you pull him into a hug again, you know just how to stop this big softy from making a stupid decision like trying to kill Randy.

“He’s right. You think he gets to hurt you and get away with this.” Calming Billy down was going to be a harder task, “He didn’t hurt me Billy, we were taking inventory and it was an accident.” He scoffed, “He accidentally sliced your head open.” You walk towards Billy and take his face in your hands making him look at you once again, “It was an accident,” he tries to turn his head away but you bring him back to look at you, “And I’m fine now. I promise.”

You watch him as his eyes flicker from your eyes down to your lips, bringing himself closer to you. You reach up to place a kiss on his lips, slightly surprised when he begins to deepen it. His hands wrap around your waist as he starts walking you backwards towards the bed. You know where this is going and as the back of your knees hit the bed frame you break apart smiling up at him as you think you’ve won this one. He gently pushed you back onto Stu’s lap, the kind look gone from his face as he turns to Stu, “Keep her here til I get back.” Stu only seems to nod and Billy starts walking back towards the window, you suddenly realise what’s happening and frantically try to get out of Stu’s embrace.

“Billy no!” you practically yell at him, stopping him half way out the window, “Please Billy, don’t kill him.” He doesn’t respond as he sends you a bone chilling smirk and disappears out of your room.

#fanfic #fantasy #reading #slasher movies #slasher #slasher fandom #slasher fanfiction #slasher fucker #billy loomis x reader #billy loomis #stu macher #stu macher x reader #billy x stu x reader #billy loomis x stu macher #scream #scream movie #randy #scream fanfic

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shankss-magnificent-ass · 10 months ago

Text

Imagine proposing to Shanks

At a bar

You: [brooding over a drink by yourself]

Benn: [comes over and sits next to you, like a concerned papa bear] You've seemed really down lately, what's going on up there in that head of yours?

You: Shanks and I have been together for years, and ... I don't quite know what I was expecting, but I am not happy at the idea of being only his dating partner forever.

Benn: Is this because of the wedding we saw yesterday, down at the Chapple?

You: Sort of, now I know that I'm never going to get a traditional wedding like that, but I would like for him to wife me up.

Benn: You should tell him that because he's never going to come to that conclusion on his own.

You: I know, but I can already picture what his proposal would be like, improvised, sloppy, and probably involving alcohol.

Benn: [mutters to himself] Well, at least you know what you're getting into with him before you marry him.

You: what was that?

Benn: nothing. Can I offer you a piece of advice?

You: [nods]

Benn: Don't wait around for others to do something for you when you could do it a million times better yourself.

You: hmm, thank you for the food for thought.

Two weeks later

Shanks: [tugging on the white collar of his button-up like it's choking him,] Why the hell are they making such a big fuss? Insisting I dress up, just to go on a picnic.

Benn: [straightening his captain's tie] Because they love your dumb ass, for some fucking reason, and they went through the trouble of planning a special night for you two. So you're going to dress up, look nice, stay sober, try to behave, do whatever they say,

Shanks: [mutters] I already do whatever they say

Benn: [gives him the side eye as a warning] And you're going to bring them flowers and this cake.

Shanks: yeah, yeah, it's just it's been ages since we've had time to do something special, we're out of the honeymoon phase, you know? We're like an old married couple, we only have sex once a week and everything.

Benn: Oh, I know, we can hear you two in the crew's quarters, we appreciate that it's the same day every week too. [puts the flowers and box of cake in Shanks's hands] Now get going, if you're late I'll kill you myself.

Shanks: Alright, don't shove.

At the docks

You: wow, you made it on time.

Shanks: I wouldn't be late for our first date in over a year.

You: [winces at the reminder]

Shanks: [realizes he's made things awkward, he holds out his gifts] Uh, these are for you.

You: [can see Benn's meddling] Thank you, but we're actually going to have to wait for the boat to get here. I took your habit of arriving late into account when I made the plans, and the time I told you to come was forty-five minutes before you actually needed to be here.

Shanks: [puts his arm over your shoulder and presses a kiss to your head] You know me so well, and no worries if we have to wait, just means that I get more time with you, my love.

On the boat

Shanks: [looks around the glass bottom boat in amazement] Whoa! Look look! There's a tiger shark.

You: I knew you'd like it, we have it all to ourselves tonight. We'll sail around the reefs, and have dinner.

Shanks: we get to eat.

You: yes, they have your favorite, you can even pick out which lobster you'd like to eat.

After dinner

the boat captain: excuse me, we've landed on Firefly Island, you'll have two hours before we raise anchor and head back to the port.

You: thank you, [turns to Shanks, grabs his hand, and leads him to the heart of the island where all the fireflies are]

Shanks: [visibly resisting the urge to run around and chase them]

You: [rolls your eyes playfully] Go ahead, I know you wanna run, go get your energy out. Why don't you run around the edge of the clearing and herd them this way? [sits on a stone bench beside the pond in the center of the meadow]

Shanks: [kisses your cheek] aye aye

You: [waits until he's tuckered himself out, and has collapsed on the bench next to you] Sweetheart, are you having fun?

Shanks: the most fun I have had in a while, look at this jar of fireflies I caught. [holds up a large mason jar, packed with the luminescent insects] I know if I leave them in there too long, they'll die, but I wanted you to get to open it.

You: [gets down on one knee, positions the ring box on the side of the jar and unscrews the lid to let critters free]

Shanks: Isn't it pretty? [looks down at the jar to see the box on the other side of the jar] What'cha got there?

You: [sets the jar aside and opens the box to reveal the ring inside]

Shanks: [freezes]

You: ... I know I'm not going to get a fancy wedding in a place of worship or even a marriage certificate, but I would still like you to marry me. For us to be marriage partners, even if it's only in name.

Shanks: wh-... how ... [pulls out the ring and slides it onto his finger] it fits and everything.

You: [waiting for an answer]

Shanks: [notices your staring] what?

You: will you marry me?

Shanks: [pulls you into his lap, and kisses you] Of course I'll marry you, and no you're probably not going to get a fancy wedding, and you're definitely not going to get a marriage certificate. But I promise you, you'll get one hell of a wedding.

You: Thank you, love. [peers over to see Benn sopping wet in the bushes, taking pictures with a camera snail] Benn, what are you doing?

Benn: getting engagement photos, obviously.

Shanks: how did you get here?

Benn: I swam, now you two stop moving, so I can take a picture before these fireflies can eat the camera.

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#one piece #one piece x reader #one piece imagine #one piece scenario #akagami no shanks #red haired shanks #red hair shanks #red hair shanks x reader #akagami no shanks x reader #shanks x reader #benn beckman #from the depths of the dragon's hoard #tma original #4/25/24 #no beta we die like men

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sea-lanterns · 2 years ago

Text

RING SIZES

synopsis: genshin women trying to find your ring size

featuring: eula, yelan, miko, ningguang

rating: sfw (anyone can interact)

warnings: gn! reader, fluff, kissing, affectionate physical touches, slightly suggestive content (miko's), already established relationship, not proof read.

art credits: whisper me a love song

EULA

When you got home that evening, you noticed that Eula wasn’t waiting for you in the living room like she usually did, ready to greet you the moment you set foot through the door. That’s fine, she’s probably somewhere else in the house then, right? Either that or she was still working late and won’t get home until later. You didn’t mind, you could wait for your girlfriend as long as it takes!

See, that’s what you thought at first. However, as you went to set your work stuff down and take off your shoes, you hear rummaging in your bedroom and the sounds of Eula’s frustrated grunts.

“Now where would they…”

Oh, so she was home, she was just in your bedroom! You smiled and set your bag down to make your way over to your room, peeking in through the illuminated crack of the door to see what she was up to. Eula was busy hunched over the dresser that housed all your clothes, digging through a wooden jewelry box you kept atop the dresser, while pushing through various bracelets, necklaces, and other jeweled accessories.

“Wh-…” you decided not to say anything and settled for hiding behind the door to see what she was doing. Why was she rummaging through all your stuff? She didn’t need to be so secretive, if she wanted to wear some of your jewelry she could just ask…

“Ah…finally…” Your eyes lit up as Eula pulled out one of your rings, admiring the glisten of one of the gemstones and holding it up in the air to examine. “I think this is it, it should be their size…” She smiled softly and cupped the precious ring in her hand, rubbing her fingers over the smooth, worn out metal.

“This time it’ll be a real diamond, my love…”

Your eyes widened at her implications, turning away from the door to quietly walk away and pretend like you didn’t see anything. Was this real? Did you just…witness her plans to propose to you?

You almost let out a squeal of excitement, yet also bashed yourself for having caught her in the midst of it. Whatever! It wasn’t like you knew when she was going to propose…

“Home already, darling?” You heard her say, turning around to face your girlfriend with nervous eyes. “Ah…yeah, I just got home a minute ago. How was work?”

“Sufficient, I suppose…” Eula smiled and walked over to plant a kiss on your forehead, your eyes noticing her slip the ring into her back pocket. “I missed you, but I need to make an errand now, my darling. I’ll be back soon.”

“Oh? Where to in this late hour?” You tease, folding your arms and smiling expectedly at her.

“Mm, nowhere too important.” Eula chuckled, picking up your hand and planting a small kiss on your ring finger. “Let’s just say I need to make a special order…”

Your heart hammered at the implications.

YELAN

Usually you’d go to bed without Yelan. That’s okay, you understood what her job was like and enjoyed the little sprinkles of time she gave to you whenever she was off duty. Though sparse, she loved you dearly, and you didn’t mind too much as Yelan would always try her best to finish missions early so she could come home and snuggle up to you.

Tonight was no different. As you slowly stirred awake at the sound of your door lock clicking, you smiled and tried not to open your eyes when you heard Yelan’s careful footsteps walking down the hall. She didn’t know this, but you made a habit of memorizing her walk patterns. From the click of her heels to the tired yet sexy sigh she exhaled after a long day, you could tell it was her…

Like a cat, she slowly crept into your bedroom, smiling at the sight of your figure all balled up on her side of the bed. How cute, she’d always find you sleeping on her side, a sight so precious she’d often wish she could just photograph it.

“I’m home…” she’d mutter softly, your eyes still closed as you wanted her to think you were asleep. “…Ah, out like a light I see.”

You resisted the urge to smile as Yelan pressed a chaste kiss against your forehead, the sounds of her rummaging through her closet —presumably to change into her sleepwear— and going to lie down beside you, spooning you from behind. She let out a breathy sigh and wrapped her arms around your waist, you’d think she’d start passing out by now judging by how tired she was, but your instinct told you she was still awake.

That’s odd, was she still staring at you? You wanted to turn around and open your eyes but sleep was starting to slow you down. Perhaps she’ll fall asleep at some point and just—

Then Yelan reached out and gently caressed your left hand, picking it up like it was made of glass. Oh? What’s this…? Your heart sped up as she held your hand carefully, fingers circling around your ring finger as she quietly hummed in thought.

What was she doing? Her fingers were rubbing at the circumference of your left ring finger as if she were trying to gauge something. Could it be…? Was she trying to figure out your ring size?

Yelan sighed and you could just feel her smile from behind you. Her hand is still holding onto yours while she buries her face into the back of your neck, fingers entwined like a lock while she exhales breathily into your skin.

“I should use paper, it’s more efficient that way…”

With one last sleepy grumble, she finally closed her eyes to let sleep overtake her, unaware of the blushing person who heard her coddled up in her arms.

MIKO

As sly and cunning Yae Miko can be, she was absolutely stumped with how to find your ring size without you noticing. She’s tried countless times to measure the circumference whenever you were distracted, yet your intuitive gaze would always catch her whenever she tried to do something sneaky. Leading to her utter defeat, as it was hopeless to distract you long enough to mark the measurements she needed.

The kitsune huffed and slouched over her work desk with a frown. Her tail wagging sporadically out of annoyance as she wanted nothing more than to just flat out ask you.

“Hm…how irritating…” she crossed her arms as sparks flew out of her vision with fury, lighting threatening to shoot out if not for the calm and soothing voice of her lover.

“Morning Miko,” you hummed, walking into her office like you owned the place. “Eh? The air is all dark and frizzy. Did you accidentally get fur in your tea again?”

“I— no.” Miko chuckled nervously at your statement because while that wasn’t the reason she was frazzled, she did in fact get some fur in her tea due to shedding season. ‘Now is not the time to tell them that. I’ll just cut to the chase.’

“Morning little one, how was last night’s rest?” She hums, walking over to kiss you lightly on the lips. Enjoying your little sigh of satisfaction, she grins and leans forward to kiss you a little deeper, taking notice of how you grew so lost in the kiss, that your eyes fluttered shut in response. ‘Oh…this gives me an idea…’

As you broke away from the kiss to catch your breath, Miko suddenly nudged you back so you would start backing up in the direction of her desk. “Ah…Miko, I can walk you know—”

“I know I know…” was her voice getting…sultry? Oh no, you can’t do it here! You’re in her office! Plus, you did it last night already…

“Miko, wait…we can’t…”

Little did you know Miko had bigger plans…

“Mm, don’t worry, little one. I won’t go too hard on you…” She purred and put on her best seductive facade, reaching forward to grasp your left hand gently. “Just relax…and let me take over…”

As she leaned forward to keep you locked within a deep and passionate kiss, her hands were busy at work as she had no time to spare! Hands grasping over her desk to grab a slip of paper, she slid it over your ring finger, creasing the edge where the ends meet. ‘Perfect. I got it.’

Pulling away from the kiss with a grin, she chuckled at your dazed face and brushed your hair back to tease you, enjoying the way you whined.

“I got what I needed, thanks for the help little one…”

NINGGUANG

Ningguang is a busy woman, and busy women don’t often have the time to sneak around to get your ring size. While the thought is incredibly charming, she’d rather find your ring size in a rather…flashy, yet secretive kind of way that only a woman like herself could pull off.

What do I mean by flashy? I mean this woman literally went out to buy a ring of every size from the jeweler and gift them all to you in the disguise of a harmless present. An efficient, yet very expensive move as not only will she be able to figure out your size, but she’d be able to figure out what your taste in gemstones was like…

How clever of her. No wonder Ningguang was such a smart woman.

The moment you entered the Jade Chamber, you were surprised when her three secretaries suddenly pulled you over to a room that housed various shining rings with different little gemstones. These small, little gifts were probably worth a fortune to many, leaving you speechless at the sight of your girlfriend smirking in confidence.

“Hello there, dear,” She waved a hand over for you to join her, “Happy early birthday, I picked some presents for you to try…”

You raised a brow at this and chuckled amusingly at her gesture, finding the whole ordeal rather extreme. Though, Ningguang was a very extreme woman, perhaps this wasn’t so out of character for a woman like her…

“My birthday is in four months,” you giggled, eying the rings with a peculiar curiosity. “Don’t tell me you’re celebrating it this early…”

She laughs and grasps your hand with a clawed finger, lightly scratching at your palms while she leads you to their cases. “I just wish to spoil you a bit, that’s all. You may have all of them if you’d like, but I’d like you to tell me how they feel and what you like about them.”

She smiles innocently. “Just to know what you like in the future.”

Okay, that was a little odd but whatever, it was common for your girlfriend to spoil you in riches whenever she wanted to. While material wealth wasn’t what made you happy in this relationship, Ningguang always seemed to enjoy it as she adored the shocked looks on your face whenever she’d bring you something expensive.

“A little too loose.”

“I think it’s a little tight.”

She hummed in agreement when you slipped the bejeweled bands over your finger, taking mental notes of what was too small and what was too large. “And the gemstones? Which ones do you like?”

The moment you listed off the kinds of shapes, colors, and more importantly, the size of what you liked, Ningguang finally had it. The perfect ring for you.

“Thank you my love, your input means wonders for me,” she quickly plants a kiss on your lips as she rushes to head back to “work.”

“I best be going now, enjoy the gifts. I’ll be back for dinner with your favorite.” You were confused as to why she left in such a hurry, but just assumed she had some work to catch up with. Oh well, you chose to ignore it and go back to placing the rings back in their cases…

…Little did you know, Ningguang was actually not rushing to work, but to the jewelers again.

#eula x reader #eula lawrence x reader #yelan x reader #yae miko x reader #miko x reader #ningguang x reader #eula x you #yelan x you #yae miko x you #ningguang x you #genshin x reader #genshin women x reader #genshin imagines

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familiarscars · 2 months ago

Text

Lost In Control | Bad Omens | CHAPTER 20

adult content | minors do NOT interact.

⋆ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆. Bad Omens X ex-girlfriend and singer!Reader.

⋆ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. You and Noah had a difficult ending, but you still need to support each other for the band.

⋆ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆(𝐒). melancholy, ex-boyfriends, difficult relationships, alcohol abuse, swearing, drug addiction, violence.

It's okay to not agree with the characters' attitudes during the fic. It's good to remember that the story is fiction from the author's sick mind, and of course they will make dubious decisions according to my fantasies. Nothing is done to be compared to reality.

Answer. Answer. Answer.

You rested your phone on your shoulder while spitting out toothpaste into the sink and rinsing your mouth with a quick gargle. It was the second time you brushed your teeth today. Whenever you felt nervous at home, without any significant outlet, you tended to repeat these actions as a form of comfort.

A flicker of hope sparked when the ringing finally stopped.

“Speak.”

“For fuck’s sake, I’ve been chasing you for days! Where’s what I asked you for?” you whispered, as if you weren’t alone in your house.

“Bad news. The shipment got seized as soon as it hit the city. I lost everything, including your goodies. You’ll need to wait for the next batch,” he huffed on the other end.

Your steps shifted nervously, pacing back and forth, resisting the urge to throw the phone against the wall. You breathed deeply, calculating internally the terrible toll of going over three days with nothing in your system. Biting your lips hard, you pressed them together until the metallic taste replaced the minty one.

“You can’t just tell me to wait.”

“Just from your voice, anyone can tell how desperate you are,” he chuckled. “Maybe a detox will do you good. Or you can find another supplier.”

Give in and go to Gerard because it was easier? You’d rather die.

“This isn’t about cravings, you idiot. I’m just worried about the withdrawal side effects. I have an appearance at an awards show with the band tonight, and I can’t risk showing up in this state!”

“You’ve got countless problems, and none of them are mine. Talk soon.”

His ironic tone cut through your argument, and he hung up.

Bastard.

You tore through every corner of your house as if conducting an FBI investigation. Clothes spilled out of boxes, suitcases were overturned, purses dumped, cabinets emptied.

There wasn’t a single trace. Not a crumb. Nothing left behind from a day when you were too high to notice and now might’ve been useful to ease the damned headache splitting your skull. You couldn’t even stomach breakfast; you hadn’t moved from lying flat on the living room carpet, staring at the ceiling, after the chaos you caused in your already disorganized home.

Your phone buzzed beside you, and you sighed deeply. There weren’t many options for who it might be. Groping blindly until you found the device, you exhaled softly through your nose upon seeing it was just Jolly reminding you not to be late tonight.

The band had been nominated for three awards: Artist of the Year, Album of the Year, and Song of the Year. It wasn’t like you all were overly confident, though you believed in the exceptional work poured into The Death of Peace of Mind. You and the guys joked about already having the awards in the bag, but Noah, ever the buzzkill, made sure to keep everyone grounded, always saying the band didn’t need any awards to prove how good it was.

Luckily, no one cared what he thought. And even though he’d refused to attend the event because of all that nonsense he believed, all of you overruled him and forced him to show up.

It probably wasn’t a good sign that you’d have to endure him for a few hours and still be polite, but you could try.

Your steps on the street were more hurried than usual, not just because you were running late to meet your friends. You never felt safe walking alone, and unfortunately, it wasn’t just because of the flood of hate you received online that could easily spill into real life. You feared other things, things beyond your control and your line of sight.

It was almost funny to think that someone like you could be afraid of anything, but you were.

In line at the pharmacy, you grabbed a bottle of water and six blister packs of muscle relaxers near the counter. The cashier bagged them, and you paid quickly, wasting no time to leave. Outside, you tore open one pack, downed three pills, and washed them down with water.

It wouldn’t work and wouldn’t ease the agony you felt, but it was all you had.

A few more blocks, and you’d be at the studio. Just keep up the pace and avoid distractions. But as you weaved through pedestrians, increasing your speed, your always-alert hearing picked up something that sent a chill down your spine: the repetitive click of a camera.

Your body threatened to freeze, but you forced your legs to keep moving. The feeling of being watched grew like a persistent shadow. You glanced quickly under your hood, over your shoulder, trying to pinpoint the source of the sound, but the crowd seemed like an indistinct sea of faces and movement.

Maybe it was paranoia.

That’s what you tried to convince yourself, but the sound persisted, clear and sharp. The click, followed by a short silence, then another click. Each one seemed to match the rhythm of your heart, now pounding like a frenzied drum.

What if it wasn’t paranoia?

The doubt gnawed at any shred of calm you were trying to maintain. Your steps quickened even more, and the weight of your breathing began to press on your chest. Your calves burned, but you didn’t stop. You turned corners almost without thinking, feeling sweat trickle down your temple as the sound of the camera continued, sometimes closer, sometimes farther, but always there.

You spotted the studio. Relief seemed near, but fear made you cross the street without looking. Cars honked, but you barely heard them. The gates were right in front of you, and with trembling hands, you opened them in one swift motion and shut them behind you. You stood there, pressed against the cold metal, trying to catch your breath. Your chest rose and fell uncontrollably, the sound of your breathing echoing in your ears.

"Are you okay?"

Folio's voice startled you. He was standing on the other side of the courtyard, his brow furrowed, his eyes narrowing in concern.

"You’re as pale as a wall. Did you see a ghost?"

"Yes, yes, I’m fine." Your voice came out weaker than you expected, and you swallowed hard, trying to sound convincing. "I was just in a hurry to get here."

Folio seemed to hesitate but shrugged, turning back toward the building’s entrance. You stayed there for a moment longer, your throat dry and the sound of the camera still echoing in your mind. You could have told the truth. You could have said you thought someone was following you with a camera, that the repetitive sound was stalking your steps like a phantom trail. They’d understand. It wouldn’t be the first time they dealt with stalker fans, invasions of privacy, or unauthorized surveillance.

But you didn’t know what you’d seen. You weren’t sure if there was really someone there or if it was just your mind projecting the fears you carried every time you walked alone through the streets.

Taking a deep breath, you finally pushed the gate and headed inside, but the unease lingered. Even with the studio lights and the voices of your friends in the background, you still felt the sensation of being watched. As if, somewhere out there, a pair of eyes continued following your every move.

“You shouldn’t ruin your day reading this kind of stuff online.” Jolly broke your trance as he scrolled through a website on his tablet.

“I’m just looking for entertainment,” you said, feeling each ounce of common sense leaving your brain as the hairdresser yanked on strands of your hair with force while styling it.

“Entertaining yourself by reading negative comments about you?” He laughed, sitting beside you and briefly checking his appearance in the mirror. “Maybe I haven’t told you how strange I think you are sometimes.”

“I like knowing someone hates me more than I do myself,” you let out a faint chuckle.

“I hate that kind of joke.”

He cut you off in a serious tone, his gaze dropping, making you shrug your shoulders. You felt comfortable enough in his presence to talk about the nonsense that passed through your mind, even though Jolly could be unpredictable with his responses. Sometimes, he could be gentle and understanding just by listening, and other times, he could say something so impactful it would leave you speechless.

That’s why you were friends—he knew exactly where your limits lay.

“I feel like I’m back at that show before our vacation in California in 2020 when they forced us to go on stage injured and then accused me of assaulting Noah. Sure, people already talked badly about me before, but I didn’t know the gates of hell would open that damned night.”

“I understand why you didn’t want to address it since you thought it was just between the two of you, and I partly agree…” he nodded, flexing his lips. “But you do realize Noah staying quiet contributed to people drawing whatever conclusions they wanted about you.”

“At the time, I thought he just wanted to avoid bringing up a sensitive topic for me,” you argued, offering a reasoning even you didn’t find convincing. “I was also messing up and lying to him. In my mind, if I got punished for it by letting him hurt me too, we’d be even.”

“And afterward?” he asked. “You two kept being seen together, and the internet kept tearing you apart, especially when they assumed you’d broken up, and things got even worse after the tour was canceled. I’m not bringing this up to turn you against him—not when I’m not taking sides—but I want you to understand how unfair you are every time you take what these people say as absolute truth when your only mistake was protecting him. But who protected you?”

At that moment, the silence was only more agonizing than the sound of the hairdryer.

You’d never even wanted to be protected and had never seen things from that perspective because you firmly believed you’d never need it. You’d always been enough for yourself, remember?

“I don’t think he meant any harm. We’ve never doubted that you’re his entire world, and how the aftermath of the breakup made him act like he’d died ever since. But the way Noah sees protection is very different from the way you do,” Jolly took a deep breath before continuing. “You think protecting someone is jumping in front of them, but he thinks protecting someone is putting them in a soundproof box.”

“Yes…” your voice came out as a muffled whisper.

You had the impression he didn’t try to defend you from the world because he spent most of his time trying to hide you from it.

“Stop looking at these things and reliving that time!” He said, taking the tablet from your hands and tucking it under his arm. “It’s a different time, and you’re different now, aren’t you?”

No.

“Yes, yes, of course.” You nodded, something twisting in your throat.

“Just for today, get ready and enjoy the night with that guy downstairs who’s practically throwing up from anxiety because your band is about to win an award thanks to your hard work!” He winked. “If you didn’t have such a terrible relationship, this album wouldn’t even exist. So I will always be this couple's number one fan!”

“Technically…” you raised an index finger, exaggerating a deep masculine tone. “We can’t say the award is ours yet, since Bad Omens never needed a prize to prove how good we are!”

“For fuck’s sake, Noah Sebastian, go to hell!” Jolly teased, rolling his eyes before planting a quick kiss on the top of your head and leaving the room.

The two hairstylists worked in silence, their skilled fingers gliding through your hair as clouds of nearly invisible steam rose from the flat iron. The rhythmic sound of the hair being straightened was almost hypnotic, but the silence felt louder than any other noise in the room. You sat there motionless, but your mind was already elsewhere.

Then your eyes locked on the mirror in front of you. For a moment, you simply stared at the reflection, not fully recognizing what you saw. The bright dressing room light highlighted every detail you’d normally ignore.

Your face.

The dark circles under your eyes were so pronounced they looked like someone had painted deep shadows in their place. Your skin appeared dull, lifeless, with uneven patches telling stories of sleepless nights and poor nutrition. Your collarbone, nearly skeletal, jutted out from the fabric of your robe as if trying to escape your skin. The sharp and fragile bones betrayed the thinness you tried to hide.

You tilted your head slightly, analyzing your reflection as if staring at a stranger. Your fingers, previously resting idly in your lap, moved involuntarily, rising to lightly touch your cheekbones, as if to confirm whether that thin, tired skin still belonged to you.

There was something disturbing about witnessing your own decline so starkly and undeniably. Maybe it was the contrast between the glow of the lights or the hairstylists’ effort to make everything look perfect, but you couldn’t look away.

A fleeting memory surfaced: you laughing with friends, messy hair, radiant skin, and an easy smile that now seemed to belong to someone else. Someone buried somewhere you weren’t sure you could reach anymore.

You blinked, trying to dispel the growing tightness in your chest. Your breath felt trapped, as if something was sitting on your lungs. A mix of shame and sadness rose like a lump in your throat. It was hard to accept that this—this version of you—was the result of choices that had seemed small at the time but now stacked up like bricks in a wall, isolating you from who you used to be.

The hairstylists kept working, unaware of the internal battle raging inside you. One of them said something, but you didn’t hear. You just nodded, keeping your eyes fixed on the mirror, trying to find some trace of light in that empty reflection.

A fake smile under layers of makeup, hair stiff with hairspray, and a dress so tight it nearly crushed your bones. This was you, a completely different version from what you had seen in the mirror minutes earlier.

Walking toward the studio hall to meet the guys, you struggled to fasten the bracelet on your wrist with one hand while following the sound of their parallel conversation.

As soon as you arrived, your friends howled playfully to signal their approval, and you felt your face flush from the attention.

“Cream is definitely your color!” Ruffilo exclaimed, rubbing his chin in mock amazement.

“I agree! You look like a mermaid!” Folio chimed in enthusiastically. “How can you even walk in those skinny heels? Holy shit.”

“You’ll see the result by the end of the night when my feet look like rotten sponges.” You rolled your eyes and kept walking closer to them.

“We’ll be ready to carry you!” he joked, flexing his biceps, and you couldn’t hold back your laughter for long.

“We’re late,” a dry voice cut through the air, and all the smiles faded as soon as he entered the space. “I don’t even want to go, and if you guys take any longer, I’m heading back home.”

You froze the instant you heard Noah’s voice fill the room. The weight you were carrying on your shoulders seemed to double with his presence, and, instinctively, your eyes sought his.

He stood by the door, hands in his pockets, his brow furrowed in a mix of boredom and impatience. But for a moment, he didn’t move.

His eyes were fixed on you.

Noah tried to maintain his mask of irritation, but the tension in his jaw softened as he looked at you. He blinked once, as if needing to convince himself that the vision before him was real. You had never seen him so... disoriented.

And then, something shifted.

It was as if he forgot where he was, the people around him, the noise. Everything disappeared. You were there, radiant, wrapped in that dress that seemed to embrace your figure as if it had been made for you. The subtle glow of your makeup highlighted your features in a way that was almost cruel because it was impossible to look away.

But Noah was a master of disguises, and the moment he became aware of his thoughts, he cleared his throat and looked away.

“Aren’t you all ready yet?” he repeated, his tone firmer than before, as if trying to hide behind his words.

The others exchanged quick glances, sensing the discomfort in the atmosphere. You tried to ignore how your throat seemed to close, as if you had caught onto something he didn’t want to show.

“Jolly just needs to finish his hair, and then we can leave,” Ruffilo replied, but Noah barely seemed to hear.

You took a hesitant step toward him, still struggling with the bracelet clasp.

“Noah… can you help me with this?” you asked deliberately, using the delay to buy more time for the others, your voice so soft it was almost inaudible.

He looked at you again, his eyes meeting yours briefly before shifting to the bracelet. A sigh escaped his lips, and he stepped forward, taking the delicate clasp between his fingers.

As he adjusted the accessory, your hands almost touched, and the warmth that spread across your skin felt like it ignited the air between you. He hesitated, his gaze once again captured by your proximity—by the small imperfections the makeup couldn’t conceal, by the emotions hiding behind your rehearsed smile.

“It’s done,” he finally said, stepping back abruptly, as if he needed to regain his composure.

“Thank you.”

You gave him a gentle smile, and he immediately looked away.

Of course, the two of you were in for a long night.

Flashes went off in an endless sequence, nearly blinding your vision as you paused on the red carpet. You all stood still as photographers scrambled for the perfect shot, and amidst the small chaos, you heard compliments thrown at everyone, especially you and the spot-on choice of your look.

“I admire your stylist’s courage,” Noah quipped without looking away from the cameras, “giving you a dress that might leave you completely exposed at any moment, even knowing how out of your mind you are.”

“Don’t tell me you don’t like my dress?”

"I didn't think it was anything special."

"That's not what the rest of the men at the awards think." You held back a smile and gave him a light nudge with your elbow.

"Pathetic," he growled, his tone hardening.

Luckily, before anyone around noticed the exchange of barbs between the two of you, the photo session ended, and you finally headed toward the hall.

The hall was illuminated as if every corner glowed on its own—a true celebration befitting what music meant to so many people there. You walked to the table reserved for the band, greeting a few familiar faces along the way.

"Hey!" Landon appeared and surprised you with a hug. "Damn, you look stunning!"

"Oh, thanks," you replied, slightly hesitant.

"Definitely the biggest prize tonight will go to whoever ends up with you by their side…"

"Can we sit down already?" Noah interrupted, and you cleared your throat awkwardly. "What are you even doing here? I don’t remember your dad authorizing any support for my band!"

"I'm nominated for Album of the Year." He shrugged with false modesty. "In case you forgot, we're not the only band under the label."

"Your band's name always seems to slip my mind—probably the size of its font on festival posters. But good luck with the Album of the Year," Noah said, extending a hand for a handshake. With a strained smile, Landon shook it back.

"If the criteria are the quality of compositions, I might just take this one. Not every band wastes time writing for TikTok, baby."

Noah maintained a serious demeanor as he watched Landon walk away, and you continued to the reserved seats. His eyes occasionally darted toward you, as if he were still caught up in the tension from the entrance. You tried not to let it affect you, focusing instead on politely responding to those who complimented your dress or the band’s recent success.

"Nervous?" Folio asked, leaning closer.

"Not really," you lied, adjusting your hair. "It's just another awards show, right?"

Folio chuckled softly. "Sure, just another awards show where we might beat three bigger bands with more years in the game. Totally not nerve-wracking."

"What happened to all that talk about having this award in the bag?" you teased, reminding him of one of his past remarks.

"Forget it, girl. My ass is sweating right now!" he shot back, downing a drink.

He wasn’t wrong, but you tried to mask the tightness in your chest, thinking about how much this meant to all of you. Drinking helped you stay a bit calmer, so by the time they were announcing other categories, you were on your fourth drink. The closer they got to potentially calling the band’s name, the sweatier your hands grew.

"I think you’ve had enough for tonight," he said, taking the glass from your hand and placing it on the table.

"For someone who just won two categories at an awards show, you're awfully grumpy, Noah Sebastian!" you joked, whispering as you nudged him again. "Come on, you’re Artist of the Year and have Album of the Year! Let’s celebrate!"

"I can’t believe you’re drunk," he muttered, shaking his head slowly. "You know very well I’d rather have a knife stuck in my brain than be reminded of the creative process for that album."

"But you’re forced to remember it every day, singing those songs on stage for two years now."

"Maybe that’s why I’m so happy," Noah replied sarcastically, though his body remained tense as the next announcement came closer—the Song of the Year category.

You’d bet he would rather the award go to Landon than be forced to go on stage and thank people for a song he despised, one he actively pretended didn’t exist during live shows.

"And the award goes to… Just Pretend by Bad Omens!"

You and Noah exchanged looks as the applause erupted. He was frozen in his seat, unwilling to stand, his frustration clear from being denied his wish. He hated losing, but right now, Noah wished for it.

Your fingers discreetly grasped his hands on the table, gently pulling him to follow you onto the stage. With each step toward the stage, you felt the weight of emotion growing with the applause, but there was something more. Noah was beside you, and while he kept his expression composed, the slight tremor in his fingers as he held the trophy revealed what words could not.

"Well…" he began, his attention divided between the trophy and the audience. His fingers were as unsteady as the tone of his voice.

You knew every micro-expression of his and could tell he was on the verge of breaking down—not just from nerves. Noah’s mind was flooded with memories, each one torturing him all at once.

"This award means so much to us…" You discreetly took over at the microphone. Thanks to the drinks, you were braver than ever. "Just Pretend is a beautiful song written by this guy right here, who, believe it or not, never put much faith in its power. But our fans did. They gave it new meaning—something different for each person who listened and made it their favorite. We thank you for redefining it and turning a song about loss into something about gain. This award is for you!"

Applause. Deafening applause.

As you stepped off the stage for the last time that night, Noah finally looked directly at you, his eyes shining with something you couldn’t quite decipher.

"Don’t think I’m going to thank you for this," he tried to use sharp words that completely contradicted what was in his eyes.

"Oh, I won’t be able to sleep tonight without Noah Sebastian’s gratitude," you said, feigning drama as you placed a hand on your forehead, smiling when he scoffed.

"We’re going to a bar to celebrate," Noah said, tossing the invitation into the air without looking directly at you. "The whole label’s going, and if you want to come…"

"Hmm…" You pouted, taking a few hesitant steps back to the table. "Tempting invitation, but I have a better commitment."

His steps halted abruptly, and he didn’t even bother to hide it as people navigated around your frozen bodies in the main passageway. You looked over your shoulder at him, narrowing your eyes when you saw the indifference in his face melt into a single emotion: jealousy.

"Where are you going?" he asked, gripping the trophy tighter as he stared at the widening smile on your lips.

"Find out."

⭑ @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard ; @iluvmewwwww75 ; @anarchydomainglory ; @foliosgirl ; @lma1986 ; @chey-h ; @supersquirrel1996 ; @zozaline ; @just-randomm-stuff

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silverzoomies · 1 year ago

Text

Alone

peter maximoff x reader fluff

warnings: fluff, humor, first meetings, pining, female reader

word count: 3,461

a/n: just a drabble i spent way too long on. based on something i used to daydream about a lot. happy late valentine's day !!

tag list: @dewberryobssesed @violetharmonscupcake @kaismanwich @jellyluvr @icannot3 @taintandviolent @ahoyladiesz @scene-and-dandylover @quickandsilvers @luttic @billielourdslays

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Peter sits, slouched on the floor against the foot of a sofa. Glimmers of light flicker in his eyes, as he indulges in some mind numbing television. Reruns of Frasier play stereotypical laugh tracks, droning through the basement. He can’t help but follow suit. Chuckling along in quiet huffs, he shakes his head.

Upstairs, the house rests in silence. Dead quiet. Magda snores softly in her room. Lorna’s probably conked out too. And Wanda? She’s gone. Somewhere. He could never guess. She doesn’t tell anyone where she goes on weeknights. But hey, what’s it matter to him? So long as she’s playing it safe.

Peter snickers at another corny, sitcom joke. He guzzles down handfuls of Reese's pieces. The candies rustle in their small box. But with the rustle, his ears catch something else. Distant and faint. Outside the realm of television laugh tracks and candy clicks.

It’s a lyrical melody, playing with romantic cadence from outside the basement window. Peter tilts his head back, drinking a glass bottle Pepsi. Fizzy sweetness mildly irritates his throat. Raising a brow, he guides his gaze to the window. One more chug of his soda, and he snatches the remote.

The roar of sitcom television falls into stillness.

And sure enough, a tune whispers from beyond the window’s glass. Like the call of a sea siren through the neighborhood. But it’s 10pm on a Tuesday night. And the likelihood of a smokin’ hot siren crawling from the ocean - to a house in middle class suburbia - is beyond impossible. Unless Peter’s dreaming again.

In which case; wait for him, nautical dames. He'll grab his trunks and be out flash.

And the night goes by so very slow

Oh I hope that it won’t end though

Alone

Peter narrows his eyes at the window, scoffing to himself. Woah, now. Is he warped in the head? Or is the mantra of Heart crying out from beyond the shadows? Peter appears at the window in a zip. Raising himself on his toes, he launches his body upward. Through smudged glass, Peter’s black hues scan the world outside. A shadowy mass looms in the grass, imposing and somewhat terrifying.

Until he realizes, it’s someone holding a giant boombox over their head. Phew .

Til now I always got by on my own

I never really cared until I met you

And now it chills me to the bone

How do I get you alone

Peter’s silver brows furrow again.

“What the hell?” He mutters under his breath.

He unlatches the window, pushing it open. Allowing that unmistakable tune to come through much clearer. Peter watches the mysterious, boombox stranger for a moment longer. A beat passes, and Peter sighs. He could just as easily zip out there, confront the culprit, and return to his basement lickety split. Instead, he opts for the casual approach.

Peter pushes himself through the window, his bare feet scuffing the basement wall. He accidentally kicks over a set of speakers. Some he stole five years ago and forgot about. They tumble off a wall shelf and crash hard onto the floor. Knocking down a bunch of stolen street signs in their wake. If Maximoffs weren’t such deep sleepers, he’d be in for it now. Big time.

As soon as Peter’s out, he stumbles in the grass. Mumbling a hushed - Shit.

You don’t know how long I have wanted

To touch your lips and hold you tight

You don’t know how long I have waited

And I was going to tell you tonight

Crawling through the dry, winter grass, Peter finally stands. With an exhale, he wipes dirt from his grey sweatpants. The rando in his yard doesn’t react, but they lower the boombox a little. Peter waits at a distance, cupping his hands around his mouth.

“Who are you? Whaddya wannnnnt?” He shouts.

Til now I always got by on my own

I never really cared until I met you

And now it chills me to the bone

How do I get you alone?

No response from the rando. With a simple gesture, they tap the speaker of the boombox. Whatever that means. Rolling his eyes, Peter strides across the cold grass. Shirtless in the brisk, February air. He raises a hand to scratch his messy, silver bedhead. As he moves in closer, the neighborhood street lights illuminate the figure’s features.

Up until now, he thought some weirdo guy snuck out to pine for Wanda’s attention. Peter’s ready to kick his ass if he needs to. Poor Wanda’s always got dudes falling to her feet on Valentine's day. But she usually does the ass kicking. More power to her.

Guess he won’t have to this time. Turns out, it’s just some weirdo girl.

How do I get you alone?

Peter puts a stop to the song before it reaches its end. Extending a hand in a quick blur, he abruptly clicks a button on the box. The neighborhood drowns itself in late night silence all over again. Interrupted only by the occasional car passing in the distance. Peter’s vascular arms cross over his chest. Lidded eyes leer straight at the mystery woman.

“Sooooooooo…” He tilts his head to the side, “Who are you? And why are you playing Heart outside my house at, like, ass-o-clock at night?” Peter pauses, eyes narrowing in suspicious slits, “Are you tryna pick up my sister? ‘Cuz you kinda look the type. And I know she’s been ‘tryin’ new things’ lately.” He gestures with air quotes, “If you catch my drift. Not that it’s any of my business. Point is , she’s not here.”

Boombox girl lowers said boombox down into the grass. She shakes her head, reaching into the pocket of her oversized cardigan.

“Pick up your sis- hah! ” She snickers with a snort, dawning a bashful smile. Boombox girl runs her other hand through her hair, “No! Noooo, it’s not like that! Uhm…I was actually playing Alone for you, silly.”

Peter drops his arms to his sides, and his heart skips a speedy beat. Scrunching his nose, he curls his lip.

“Youplayedwhatforwhonow?” He slides his hands into his sweatpants pockets, awkwardly rocking back and forth on his heels. The apples of his cheeks burn, and Peter clears his throat, “Uhhhh. Okay. Thanks? That’s…sweet, I guess. But, I-I’m sorry, do I know you?”

Her smile’s kind of adorable. Especially as she rubs her neck, displaying timid hesitance. Whatever confidence she had, she must’ve maxed out on 80’s romance cliches.

“Not really? I mean, I’ve seen you around. A lot. But you’ve never really noticed me, so…”

Alrighty then. That makes this interaction even weirder. But Peter’s pulled equally weird - if not more desperate stops to win some hearts in the past. And he may or may not be guilty of the same technique she’s using now.

Give him a break, okay? So what if he took a chance on it once? Back when he was eighteen and leagues more naive. It’s a little cheesy, sure. But it’s also the story of how he lost his v-card. And not the Valentine’s kind.

Case in point, it worked for him. So, he’ll bite.

“And you thought crashin’ outside my house, blastin’ some corny song while my family’s asleep - that’s a smoother move than…oh, I dunno…just talkin’ to me?”

She shrugs again, her guilty eyes looking down at the grass. Boombox girl raises a foot, tapping the ground with the tip of her boot. God, she’s obviously so nervous. And he's not gonna lie, it's a little charming. The corners of Peter’s lips turn up in a grin.

“I thought it might get your attention. You just…you move so fast all the time. And I’m really slow when it comes to these kinds of things. You were always gone before I ever got the chance.”

“How’d you know where I live?” Peter throws her a nod of his head, pressing his tongue to the inside of his cheek.

Pulling her hand from her pocket, she fixes her attention on the plastic case of a cassette tape.

“My uncle tried to arrest you once.” She grins, “He was out on patrol. Saw you steal a speed limit sign. Your mom paid him to let you off the hook.”

Peter’s brows fly up under his bangs. His cheeky smile spreads into his dimples.

“Your unc-...seriously? Whoa. No kiddin’?” He laughs, “Wish I could say I remember. But that sorta thing used to happen to me all the time.”

Not like he wasn’t asking for it back then. But to be fair, Peter’s made some drastic improvements. When it comes to his klepto compulsions, anyway. Excluding the influx of junk food and Garbage Pail Kid cards he snags on a daily basis. From nation-wide chain stores. Totally ethical.

“Yeah, I know.” She giggles, tilting her head up to meet his gaze. This way, he actually gets a good look at her. Soft lips. Pretty eyes, “You used to be the talk of the station, where he worked. Those guys never shut up about you.”

Reaching forward, she passes Peter the cassette in her hand.

“What’s this?” He gently takes it, inspecting the hand-made label inside the case. Decorated in little, lightning bolt doodles. Even some hearts. Aw. Cute. Scratched across it in messy handwriting, are the words - For the kleptomaniac. In exchange for my heart. You stole it forever ago.

Come on. Could she be any more corny?

“It’s a mixtape.” She bites her lip like she’s terrified to keep talking, “It’s cool if you don’t listen to it. I dunno if you’ll even like what’s on it. But I know you carry around that Walkman all the time.”

Uh huh. Did her uncle tell her that too? Get outta here.

“Does it have Heart on it?” Peter flips the case over in his hand, pursing his lips.

“Of course it has Heart on it.”

“Awww. Givin’ me Heart for your heart.” He snickers, turning pinker in his cheeks, “This is legit the cheesiest thing a girl’s ever done for me. I’m kinda buggin’ out right now.”

“Oh yeah? I mean, I can always take it back, if you-” She teases, like she thinks he’s being sarcastic.

She reaches for the tape. But as her fingers brush the case, Peter raises it above his head. The motion happens quickly, before she can even keep up. Boombox girl wasn’t foolin’. She is slow. Slower than a turtle on tranquilizers. As she makes another attempt, Peter drops his hand in a speedy blur.

“Hey, hey, hey. Nuh uh. No takesie-backsies.” He teases, waving a finger, “A trades a trade, babe.”

Her hands rest at her hips, and she flutters her long lashes. So shamelessly flirtatious, but still not enough to win him over. Not just yet. Even if her bedroom eyes offer a tempting invite. Like, seriously, so tempting.

Mama didn't raise him like that, though. Peter has somewhat of a delinquent track record, sure. But he's still a good hearted gentleman. He'll take her out on a few dates first. Treat her to a little arcade romance, before he tries some no pants dancing.

If she's not playing him for a complete jackass, that is. Really, it’s almost too good to be true.

No chick has ever pined for him this hard in his life. And Peter’s never had the chance to play hard to get. He bets dollars to donuts, boombox babe probably isn't a mutie either. Talk about some major role reversal. How often does a human girl beg and plead for mutant man's love? She knows he's a total shut in, right? Or did her uncle not fill her in on that?

“You still have my heart, though.” She coos, gazing at Peter with those eyes.

Those - embrace me, o’ speedster man of my dreams - eyes.

Yeah. Her uncle most definitely didn't break the news. Peter hisses, teasing her again with a click of his teeth.

“Ooooh. Yeah. Well, finders keepers. Good luck shakin’ that silver lovebug.”

He flirts back and forth with her naturally. Kinda like high school sweethearts. It goes on for a few more minutes. Until he's pestered her enough, she just up and quits. Her car's parked down the street. A Volkswagen bug. Hah. And there she goes. Peter's secret admirer stomps off. Boombox swinging at her side. A wave of guilt almost pulls him under, and Peter starts to regret teasing her so much.

She laughs as she walks away. And the call of her giggle brings him back to the surface, much like a song. Seems like the sirens really did come out tonight.

So, she likes playing games too, huh?

You don’t know how long I have waited

And I was going to tell you tonight

Peter’s not even that much of a Heart fan.

He looks down at the cassette case in his hands. Rolling a thumb over a scratch in the plastic. A beat passes. In a flash, he appears in front of her. Peter walks backwards, padding barefoot along the side of the road.

“So, are you gonna ask me out ‘er what? C'mon, don't be chicken shit. I know you got it in you!” He jokes.

Boombox girl giggles so hard, she breaks out in dorky snorts. Ah, the sexiest, siren song. Too bad that's not a track on the mixtape. He’s willing to slip her some loose change for a raw recording.

By happenstance, another car slows to a stop. Right in the middle of the empty neighborhood street. Colored a familiar shade of scarlet, the vehicle looms for a beat or two. Peter comes to halt, watching as the passenger side window rolls down. Boombox girl crashes right into him.

Shit. Peter just now realized, he doesn't know her name yet.

He grabs her hips on instinct, catching her in case she falls over or something. Her free hand clutches his arm, right over the ‘mom’ tattoo etched into his skin. Naturally, Peter radiates enough warmth to act as a heater. He’s a godsend on cold, lonesome nights. Boombox girl presses her body closer to his, seeking his heat.

Peter knows she does it without thinking, since she whimpers a soft, “ Oh god. I’m so sorry. ”

“It’s cool. You okay?” Peter’s hands linger on her hips.

“What’s going on over there?” Wanda grills playfully from her car. She flits her eyes between her doofus brother, and boombox girl. When Wanda purses her lips, she does so in a way identical to Peter, “Is he giving you any trouble?” She asks what's-her-name.

Peter zips to the passenger side door, crossing his arms over it. Leaning against Wanda’s car through the window, he makes a pfffbbbbtt noise.

“Hey, don’t sweat it, Wands. I’m just walkin’ my future wife to her car.” He raises one of his hands, waving the cassette case, “Check it out, ah? She made me a mixtape! Cute, right?”

Wanda’s knits her brows as she tilts her head. The long, scarlet locks of her hair bounce with the motion. At the side of the road, boombox girl makes an adorable squeal. She covers her blistering face with her hands, mewling silent pleas.

“Oh my god stop. I’m sorry I even said anything. Oh my god. ” What's-her-name whimpers.

Which really isn’t helping the whole suspicious sister situation. Wanda leans back in her seat, peering over Peter’s shoulder at boombox girl. Narrowing her eyes, Wanda looks back at him. And before she can call Peter out on his bullshit, he lowers his arms from the door. Peter drops his chin to it, his tapioca eyes gazing up at Wanda innocently.

He chews his lip. In that ‘ I’m obviously up to no good’ kind of way.

“Y’wanna know what that cutie over there told me?” He purrs, talking loud enough for what’s-her-name to hear, "She said I stole her-"

Boombox girl shrieks, “MAXIMOFF! Please! That was a secret! I’m serious! You’re killing me here, dude!”

Maximoff?

Ohhhhh. She doesn’t actually know his name. Seriously? Didn’t what's-her-name say she’s pined after Peter for a while now? How long is a while? Long enough to know his address, apparently. And to know he likes listening to his tunes. And to know he’s a mutant with a rep for thieving. But not long enough for anyone to drop his name? Did the feds never bother learning it? Ouch. Figures.

“Piet.” Wanda leers at Peter, holding him at gunpoint with her eyes, “Leave that poor girl alone. Look at her! She’s had enough.”

Rolling his eyes, Peter stands up straight. Lazily, he smirks, waving a hand, signaling Wanda to drive off.

“Naaaah! You shoulda seen her back at the house. She’s hopelessly in love with me. Played songs outside my window. Y'know, like they do in the movies? I’m serious! You can ask her yourself if you don’t believe me.”

Once more, Wanda shifts her skeptical gaze to what’s-her-name. The mystery girl carries her boombox to her car. With her head dipped and a free hand over her face. She looks like she’s doing the walk of shame. As if Peter stole a little something else from her and-w hoops. That's also not helping his case at all. Wanda hums, doubtful of Peter’s unlikely story.

He cheeses a toothy grin, looking guilty.

“Really?” Wanda adjusts in her seat, reaching for the radio dial, “Well, you might wanna tell her goodnight. For a girl who’s totally in love with you , she seems in a heck of a hurry to leave.”

And with that, Wanda drives off. Peter stumbles back, his calloused heels scuffing concrete. Wanda’s car rolls all the way down the road and into the driveway. Whipping around, Peter catches what’s-her-name opening the trunk of her love bug. As she lifts the boombox into it, Peter zips up next to her. Latching his arms around the boombox, he gives her an aloof grin.

“Can I borrow this for a sec? Thanks, cutie.” He throws her a wink.

She doesn’t get the chance to ask why. Peter zips back to his spot on the side of the road, clicking a button on the boombox. He raises it over his head, letting Heart roar obnoxiously across the neighborhood. Disrupting the late night peace. Out the corner of his eye, Peter notices a few neighborhood lights come on. The song plays just as Wanda hops out of her car. She stops in the middle of her stride to the front door. Her bags hang from her arms and her keys dangle on her finger.

Wanda squints, eyebrows turned inward.

How do I get you alone?

“I TOLD YOU! SHE’S TOTALLY IN LOVE WITH ME!” Peter yells.

A faint, red glow emanates from Wanda’s hand, as she delicately swipes it in the air. The boombox’s tape player pops open with an click, and Peter lowers the box down in front of him. He playfully pouts, muttering a soft booooooo to himself. Abrupt silence fills the entire neighborhood again, save for the local dogs barking in their yards.

“Say goodnight, Pietro.” Wanda’s voice calls from the driveway, before she disappears into the house.

Peter doesn’t even realize what’s-her-name is standing next to him, until she speaks.

“Pietro’s a beautiful name.”

Peter snickers, feeling heat rise in his cheeks again. Popping open the case she gave him, he swaps the tape for the one in the boombox. Rapidly clicking the volume button, Peter huffs a soft laugh, hooded eyes blinking.

"Thanks. I'd say the same about yours, but I don't even know it." He teases. A little shy, Peter keeps his eyes on the boombox, "I go by Peter, actually."

"Peter. Pietro. Whatever your name is, you embarrassed the shit outta me, man." What's-her-name scoffs. Peter kinda likes the sound of both names in her voice, "You're lucky you're gorgeous."

Gorgeous? Whoa. That's a helluva word. Shit, this really is too good to be true. Peter's heart skips another beat, and he shakes his head. "Y'know, if you still what your heart back, you're shit outta luck, babe." Peter clicks the play button on the boombox, only after some tension heavy beats pass, "Like I said, finders kee-"

An all too familiar melody pours from the boombox speakers, softer now.

I hear the ticking of the clock

I’m lying here the room’s pitch dark

“Seriously?” Peter laughs, slinging an arm over boombox girl's shoulders.

“Yeah, seriously. I told you it had Heart.” She blushes profusely, averting her innocent gaze.

Maybe there really is something to these 80's romance cliches. Peter's almost willing to give up his own heart. Just as compensation for hers.

#peter maximoff x y/n #peter maximoff x you #peter maximoff x reader #peter maximoff #txt

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astro-ellie · 2 years ago

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thinking about being abby’s best friend and absolutely hating owen. you don’t think he deserves abby at all, he’s such a douche. he’s just not good enough for her, that’s it.

it’s totally not because you’ve been hopelessly in love with your best friend for the past five years. nope, it’s cause she could do so much better than that. owen is an idiot. he’s not her boyfriend yet, but they’re definitely past the talking-stage now. just a matter of time before they make it official.

when abby shows up at your front door for your weekly sleepover, snacks in hand and her bag hanging off her shoulders, you push your thoughts about owen to the back of your mind and focus on her instead. focus on abby, focus, focus, focus.

when you’re both laying on your bed, watching some old romcom on your computer, you don’t notice the way abby looks at you. you’re fully focused on the screen, but abby’s eyes never leave your face. it’s not until she reaches over the pause the movie you look up, and the look in her eyes is enough to have you blushing.

“hey…” abby nibbles on her lip before continuing; “is something wrong?” there’s a concern in her voice, and she looks genuinely worried. you stay silent for a few more seconds while your eyes dart around her face. you hope, hope she doesn’t notice the way your eyes linger on her lips.

“what do you mean?” you’re playing dumb now, you know she’s not really talking about tonight. you’ve been acting weird lately, avoiding your friend group and when you do actually spend time with them you don’t really talk too much anymore.

but how can you tell abby it’s cause her stupid boyfriend is there and you hate his guts? that something is wrong, and that is that she’s with him and not with someone like you.

“c’mon, something’s off. you can tell me, we’re friends right?” and abby bumps her shoulder into yours, and nibbles on on her lips again. just hearing the word friends is enough to make the feeling of disappointment spread in your chest. letting out a defeated; “yeah, we’re friends.”

abby just keeps on looking at you, waiting for an explanation why you’ve been weird. you can tell she’s not going to drop it so eventually you cave in. “just don’t do wanna get in the way, or like i don’t want to… third wheel? just don’t wanna…”

it’s a lousy excuse. really, how can you be the third wheel when manny’s always there? you’re like, the fourth wheel.

you feel a little bit embarrassed when looking at abby, but she just seems confused. “who you third wheeling?”

“uh, you and owen?” now you’re the one confused. who else could you possibly be talking about? are you missing something, or has abby been hit by a sudden wave on amnesia?

the embarrassment you felt earlier just grows stronger when abby starts laughing at you. it’s not a mean laughter, more like a surprised one. still stings though.

“me and owen aren’t- we’re not together or anything.” abby just leans her face closer to yours, and you can practically feel her breath on your own lips.

a bitter “yet” is all you let out and abby can’t help but smile at the pout on your face. she lets out a breathy laugh, bumping into your shoulder once again. “oh my god, me and owen are not going to get together. ever.”

“but i thought-“ and before you can finish your sentence, abby interrupts you. “i’m not even into owen like that. i like someone else” abby’s words has you speechless, feeling your cheeks heat up in frustration. so it’s not owen that you need to worry about, but someone else. great.

somehow it felt worse that it was someone else. because owen has always been a douche. it’s easier to compete against an asshole like him than someone who’s actually nice, and funny, and pretty. three boxes that this mysterious crush probably ticked off.

“what? who?” your hands are on her shoulders now, and you playfully shake her. abby just smiles mockingly at you before she presses the space bar on your computer, the movie you had forgotten about how playing again.

“hey! you gotta tell me, we’re like best friends, best friends tell each other everything” you wince after speaking, cause you don’t tell her everything. guilting abby into telling you about this crush when you haven’t told her about your crush feels low, but it’s too late now. your words are left hanging in the air, until abby suddenly starts speaking again.

“okay, okay. i actually thought she knew i liked her, been into her since forever.” she completely lost you the moment she said “she” instead of “he”. ever since you two first became friends all abby ever had eyes for were boys. and you had learnt to be fine with that, knowing that she would never look at you like she looked at those guys.

you didn’t know if it made you happy to hear this, if it felt good knowing you had more of a chance with her than you initially believed. it did feel a little bit like you were playing in the same league now that you knew she had eyes for women as well.

but you knew that there was no guarantee that she one day would reciprocate your feelings just because she liked women. it felt bittersweet, and lost in your thoughts you didn’t even notice abby had stopped talking. slowly, she closed your laptop completely and moved it further away from you two.

when she moved in front of you and into a sitting position, you finally snapped out of it. sitting up as well, trying to play the way you zoned off. “sorry, you were saying?”

“i said, i thought she knew. that i liked her. but i’m not sure anymore” it almost felt as if she was teasing you, with her head leaning to the side and that small playful smile on her lips.

“really? why’s that?” clearing your throat, trying to make yourself sound casual and cool. abby leans forward a little bit, and whispers as if she’s telling you her biggest secret. “she keeps on inviting me to her apartment for weekly movie dates. but i’m starting to suspect that she thinks they’re friendly hangouts and not dates”

if there’s one thing abby anderson has always been good at, it’s making you speechless. tonight is no exception, and if honestly takes you a good minute to manage to get any words out.

“oh my god, abby! you’re totally fucking with me!” it does feel a little bit humiliating, but obviously abby doesn’t know you like her like that. so how would she be able to know about the hurt her joke left you with?

“no, i’m not!” all she does is laugh at you, grabbing onto your shoulders before letting out a soft; “it’s you. i like you”

and before you know it, abby presses her lips against yours. it’s a soft and quick kiss, innocent and pure, but it’s enough to make butterflies spread through your body.

”wait- why, why didn’t you tell me earlier?” it’s hard to get the sentence out, all you can focus on is the way abby’s staring at your lips.

“like i said, thought you knew. until you started getting so jealous over owen” and you open your mouth to deny the accusations before you realise there’s no point. also, abby likes you back. who cares if she knows you were jealous of owen? “even manny knew, said he could see it in my eyes and all. didn’t realise you’d be so oblivious-“

“abby, just shut up and kiss me again.” and abby grins at you one last time before leaning in, your lips so close they’re almost touching. she mumbles something against your mouth before pressing another kiss, this one much longer and less soft.

“yes, ma’am”

#abby anderson x reader #abby anderson angst #abby anderson fluff #abby anderson smut #abby anderson #abby tlou #abby anderson blurb #ellie williams x reader #abby anderson drabble #abby anderson x female reader #abby x reader

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jaegeraether · 1 year ago

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Sunsets and footballers (Part 38)

Lucy Bronze x Reader (35) & Alexia Putellas x Character (6)

Masterlist (other parts here)

((**Don't be mad at me, please! Good stuff coming next chapter!**))

It was Friday morning and Lucy was just making breakfast when she heard Narla barking like crazy. Postman. She suddenly got excited and ran to the door, grinning at the package on her doorstep. It had arrived later than expected and she’d been like an eager child. Today was going to be a good day. A present. A hard training day for the game tomorrow. A bar dinner with Alexia after practise, and then YFN’s flight was supposed to land at 10pm.

She brought the little box inside and placed it on the coffee table in her lounge room so Narla could see it better. She was also interested.

“What’s this, Narls, huh? A present from mum’s girlfriend?”

Narla yapped at her as if they were having a conversation.

“Of course, you knew that, how silly of me. Oh, you’re going to love her. She’s coming tonight, remember!”

Narla yapped again, this time a little impatiently as Lucy tore into the box. She loved opening things; it was always like a Christmas present for her.

Inside she found three items. One was a new chew toy for Narla, a little football which she threw to her to stop her yapping. She loved it and Lucy wondered if it would last until YFN arrived. The second was a little set of sandcastle buckets with a shovel. It may have seemed like a silly little thing to most people, but not to Lucy. She immediately thought about how high and complex she’d now be able to build them with these. She grinned. YFN probably didn’t realise the monster she created by gifting those. The last item was a small blue polaroid camera.

She read the printed note inside the box.

Hi Luce,

We just hung up the phone and I already miss the sound of your voice.

I hope you and Narla like your presents. I’m excited for our beach mornings and sunsets!

As for the polaroid camera, I thought we could make some memories with it…

I can’t wait to see you again. I miss the warmth of you next to me.

I miss you.

YFN x

Lucy leant back against the couch and read the note again, unable to control her smile. 10pm tonight she’d be there. 10pm.

“A bit distracted, Lucia?” Mapi teased as her ball hit Lucy’s stomach before she had time to react.

They were standing in a circle, doing their usual training.

“YFN’s coming tonight.” Kiera teased from Lucy’s left, giving Lucy a light shove.

Alexia was on Lucy’s right and moved a little closer. “Your girlfriend is coming tonight?”

Lucy nodded, understanding the real question. “Yeah but not until 10pm. I’ll be with you until around 9:30pm. I figured we couldn’t be out too late anyways with the game tomorrow.”

“Ah,” Alexia nodded, though with a cheeky expression. “You are definitely not Spanish, Lucia.”

She slapped the opposite shoulder Kiera had, and Lucy rolled her eyes, used to being assaulted by everyone. What Alexia had meant was that in the Spanish culture, it was normal to stay up late and dinner around 9 or 10pm wasn’t unusual.

Jonatan called a break and Lucy pouted at Alexia as they took water bottles from the esky. “How long do you plan on staying out?”

The game was just over 300km south of Barcelona in Villareal at 4:30pm and their short flight left at midday. It wasn’t ideal for YFN who Lucy had also booked flights for, nor was it ideal for Alexia to be awake too late waiting for someone who may not show.

Alexia shrugged. “Midnight maybe.”

She had that determined look in her eye but Lucy could also see a little excitement there.

“Are you driving?”

“I’ll Uber.” Lucy didn’t like the thought that it allowed her to drink but she knew Alexia better than that. She wouldn’t drink before a game day.

“I’ll pick you up. I need to leave for the airport at 9:30pm though but you’ll only have to Uber one way.”

Alexia nodded.

“You two are going out?” Ona said, joining their little group huddled around the esky. Alexia always had people huddling around her, Lucy noticed.

Lucy found a soccer ball and sat down, looking at Alexia to answer.

“Si, but not for long.” She replied in Spanish.

Lucy scoffed. Five hours was definitely long enough.

“Lucia’s girlfriend in flying in tonight,” Asisat Oshoala teased. She was always being cheeky, especially with Lucy. They bantered well. Lucy looked at Ona for a reaction and she wasn’t surprised at her trying to hold her emotions together. She did quite well, to be fair.

“But isn’t it ah…storm tonight?”

Lucy sat up straighter. “What?”

“Oh, yah you’re right. Big storm tonight! Flights being cancelled already.” Oshoala shrugged.

“Already? It’s 5pm!” Lucy groaned and looked around for her phone. Alexia was quicker and knelt down next to Lucy, showing her the news report. The gesture wasn’t lost on Lucy. A week ago, Alexia wouldn’t have been this publicly empathetic towards her.

Lucy looked at the report. It was expecting most passenger liners to be cancelled, and the worst of the storm was hitting around the time that YFN was due.

“Fuck!” She swore between gritted teeth. Alexia rubbed her back. Again, an unusual new development in their friendship. She was pissed, YFN didn’t have much time off. She’d told Lucy the day before that she needed to be back for the games on Sunday, one of which was now starting earlier as she’d made a promise to Kyra.

She internally groaned at that. Her mind asked ‘Why does she have to be such a good person…” and then her mind also answered the question before she’d finished asking it ‘because it’s YFN and this is why we love her.’

The more Lucy read, the more upset she got. She gave Alexia her phone back and put her head in her hands.

“Is it that bad?” Kiera asked.

Lucy nodded into her hands and Oshoala answered. “Very bad weather. Very bad.”

Jonatan called an end to practise entirely then and Oshoala patted Lucy on the back as she walked towards the changing rooms. A few others followed suit until it was just Lucy. Or so she thought. She lifted her head, and wiped away the tears she’d been hiding. She jumped when she saw Alexia still sitting there.

“Sorry,” she gave a little smile. “Are you okay? We don’t have to go tonight.”

“No, we’ll go. It’ll be a good distraction, but I might be on my phone a little more to talk to YFN and check flights.”

“That’s okay. I’m happy you come with me.”

Lucy smiled at that mistake. “Let’s hope one of us gets the girl tonight, hey?”

Alexia had struggled to decide what to wear, eventually deciding casual was best. It was just a bar, after all. She was in dark jeans, white Nike’s, a white crop top exposing her midriff and a black leather jacket. She couldn’t even decide what she wanted to do with her hair and ended up with it down, however putting hair ties around her wrist in case she changed her mind.

Lucy texted just after 6pm and Alexia went to meet her outside. She was waiting in her car, furiously on her phone, and also dressed casually. Lucy loved her casual. She loved her oversized clothes and men’s shirts Alexia had noticed. It suited her well. Alexia saw her clothes better as she got closer. Light brown pants accented with a dark brown belt, her white and light brown matching Nike shoes of course, a tight white singlet and a brand new open white button up shirt. Lucy loved to accessorise also with necklaces and rings along with her studs and nose ring. Alexia tended to notice these little things about people as she loved fashion.

Lucy looked up from her phone as the door opened and looked Alexia up and down with her typical grin, this one more knowing, though.

“Don’t say a word, Lucia.”

“I was just going to say you looked nice.” She said as if she wasn’t also wondering how many times Alexia had changed. Alexia knew her better than that, though.

“Drive.”

They arrived to the bar already busy. Javier ran a comfortable, clean, bustling establishment and anyone could see the pride he put into it. It was due to this, that being busy wasn’t unusual. No matter the day or time, Javier’s bar was always popular, though tonight it was even more so as it was a Friday.

They entered the place and were greeted by a host Alexia recognised.

“Ah, Alexia!” He grinned and came over for their typical Spanish greeting. Lucy also did, and it was always funny to Alexia to watch Lucy have to be physical with people. She didn’t enjoy it. It’s one of the reasons she was so eager to meet her new girlfriend. “Javier has your spot reserved. Come, follow me.”

The host spoke in Spanish, though Alexia knew that Lucy knew enough to understand that.

“Reservation?” She asked behind her as they followed him through the crowd. She seemed overwhelmed by the place, and Alexia wasn’t surprised. She had also been overwhelmed the first time she’d come.

“Si, uh, it gets busy.”

“Yeah…”

“Don’t worry, Lucia, we are safe here from cameras and people.”

The girls in the team had spoken about the bar often. It was one of the reasons they liked it so much, because anyone who came to Javier’s knew to respect boundaries and that no sneaky photos or paparazzi were allowed.

“Here you are. Here are your menus, and the girls will be over soon for drinks.”

Alexia’s favourite spot was a booth that hung onto the corner of the drinks area which allowed drink service across the bar straight to the table. It also had a great view of most of the establishment including the stairs to the private rooms, and also the stage. Alexia looked around and couldn’t see Ridley just yet.

“Anything?” Lucy asked, still looking around the place almost dad-like.

“No.”

A server appeared across the bar and served them then. Alexia and Lucy both weren’t drinking and ordered mocktails instead. They would only allow themselves a few though as they needed to limit bad sugars and keep healthy. Alexia couldn't help her eyes wandering through the bar even though she obviously wasn’t there. She would have been very obvious is she was; surrounded by people and stared at like Alexia was at football games or events.

“It’s early…” Lucy reassured. “If she’s a true Spaniard, she won’t be here until later.”

“She’s not Spanish.” Alexia responded without even thinking about it.

“Oh?”

“She’s Australian.” She’d forgotten how she knew this, most likely through Javier or people she’d spoken to about her, and she never would have guessed. It’s only when she realised she was Australian that she could pick up that hint of an accent and match it.

“Oh, we both have Australian problems, do we?”

Alexia rolled her eyes. “Mine is a problem, yours is not.”

“Not unless you count the crazy people.” That made Alexia laugh a little. Lucy always loved making people laugh. “Tell me about her?”

“There is not much to say, I don��t know her…well.”

“When did you see her last?”

“Two weeks ago.”

“And you haven’t been back?”

“No. We’ve been busy.”

They had been busy, that was for sure. But Lucy thought it was also due to another reason. They ordered an early dinner, Alexia grumbling that no human should be eating so early. As they waited, she opened up a little more.

“I saw her…often for months here. Then she went for five months. Then I see her again. Then she’s gone for five months.”

“Wow, you remember her after basically ten months without speaking?”

“Si, it’s pathetic.” Now Lucy could see why she was so mad at herself. She couldn’t escape this woman.

“No it’s not,” she said sympathetically. Lucy didn’t usually open up but felt like Alexia needed it. “If YFN and I hadn’t gotten close, I would be thinking about her for years. She’s just…I can’t even explain. She just occupies a part of me.”

“Occupies?”

“Ocupa?”

“Ah…yes, like that. We talked to say hello and goodbye and sorry but that’s all.”

“You were talking about Javier the owner? Does he know where she goes to?”

“He said it’s for work, and she parties when she doesn’t work. Normally in Ibiza.”

“I’m surprised you haven’t seen her there.”

“Me too.”

They talked a bit longer about Alexia’s crush until the conversation shifted to football and then onto family and all things they’d never spoken about before. It had evolved to a natural conversation as if they regularly went out just to talk. They ate dinner as they talked, Lucy eating so fast that Alexia was genuinely worried for her and the amount of room she took up on the table. That was Lucy though, and she was unapologetically herself. She listened to Lucy speak about her family, Narla, and when she spoke about YFN she changed. She became someone else and Alexia saw her soften and smile without even knowing she was. She’d sent her a few surprises this morning and Alexia personally wouldn’t have wanted sandcastle buckets, but she knew it was perfect for Lucy. She was Captain and made sure to know her players well. Lucy was one of those players who could influence an entire team, an entire game. She was either high, high energy or very low energy and quiet. A few of the Barca team had been worried about Lucy’s personality clashing when she moved over, however it hadn’t been an issue at all. Alexia had watched as she came in almost shy and took the young players under her wing and slowly integrated with the team to the point where she was now her loud, happy self. That’s one thing she loved about Lucy, the fact that she was happy most of the time, always smiling, even when things were terrible. It was easy then to spot when she was actually going through something horrible, as it would be written over her face. On top of this, Lucy had always been a player she respected highly. Her determination, tenacity and self-confidence were always things Alexia had struggled with, though she never showed just how much. She always kept a brave face. Lucy’s ability to speak impactfully and stand up for players and female football all together were also qualities she’d admired. She hadn’t told her all of that, of course, but she knew Lucy respected her also from the way she treated her. They didn’t need to tell each other; they both knew.

They talked for hours just enjoying each other’s company until it dragged closer to 9:30pm and Lucy became more worried, checking her phone more often.

“Can she come?” Alexia’s limited English made it frustrating to speak, though she did it for her teammate.

“Maybe…there’s a few flights going but we’re unsure. She’s at the airport and they haven’t boarded yet. I…I think I’m going to leave anyway and go to the airport to try and find a flight for her. Will you be okay?”

Alexia nodded. “I’m okay, I will find Javier to say a hello and go home.”

“Do you want me to wait?”

“No Lucia, it’s okay. Thank you for tonight. Go and get your woman.”

Lucy chuckled at that and when they both slipped out of the booth, Lucy hugged her.

“We’ll keep coming back until she’s here, okay?”

Alexia was unsure if it was even worth it, but she nodded and watched as Lucy walked away.

Alexia found the host again and asked where Javier was. She’d seen him moving around through the bar but he hadn’t spotted her and had looked busy. To be honest, once she’d started a full conversation with Lucy, she hadn’t noticed much around them anyways.

“Javier is upstairs sorting out a little drama…” He admitted.

Alexia nodded. It wasn’t regular but it also wasn’t unusual for there to be some drama in the private rooms. She headed up the stairs, looking for her friend. Most rooms were closed, and some were open as they were being cleaned. She rounded the corner where her room eleven was and came to a halt when she saw Javier. He was talking to a figure leaned up against the doorway looking as relaxed as always. She was in dark jeans and a bra, no shoes, no jacket, just that.

“Are you sure you don’t need help? I’ll be gentle, I promise.”

Javier gave her a sceptical look. “It’s all sorted. Go back to your entertainment for the night.”

He spotted her out the corner of his eye then and turned, giving a polite wave and beckoning her over. Ridley’s eyes fell on Alexia and refused to move. They looked her up and down unapologetically.

“La Reina.”

“Alexia!” Javier gave her a proper greeting.

“Hello,” she said in Spanish with fake confidence. It took every fibre of her strength to not look at Ridley, though she could feel her stare burning into her. “I came to find you to say goodbye.”

“Ah, I’m sorry I couldn’t see you and your friend earlier, it’s been a nightmare, let me tell you.”

Before Alexia could respond, one of Javier’s security was beckoning him up the hall and towards where she assumed the drama was occurring. He said his apologies and left to sort it out.

“You’re leaving?”

Alexia looked to Ridley, barely holding her demeanour. “Si, I’ve been here for a few hours, catching up with a friend.”

“I didn't see you…”

“I was in my usual spot,” she smiled politely and couldn’t help but wonder who was in the room behind her. “Have you been here long?”

“Just arrived. We must have missed each other.”

There was a silence then as they stared at each other. Alexia saw Ridley’s pupils dilate as she tilted her head. She looked over Alexia’s face at each of her features, her eyes tending to settle a little longer on her lips. Alexia held strong her confidence for the sake of appearance but couldn’t help her eyes darting into the room and back out. Ridley smirked at that. She really did notice everything.

"I hope you have a good night.” She turned to leave but Ridley’s response stopped her mid turn.

“Would you like to watch?”

It was the same question as that last time she’d seen her and just like then, Alexia hesitated. Her eyes met the teasing gold flecks dancing around Ridley’s dark eyes, though she couldn’t form a response. Unlike last time though, Ridley stepped into her space; the woody, spicy, musky smell melting her, and said something different. “That wasn’t a no, la Reina.”

She waited, though Alexia could still give no response and when Ridley stepped to the side, Alexia found her feet moving her into the room. She stopped as she heard the door click behind her, the locks sliding into place. Ridley’s hands found her hips and gently guided her into the darkened room. She was worried what she’d find, though it wasn’t unexpected. There was a woman, a very attractive woman, lying naked on her bed. Her blonde dyed hair was loose and across the pillow, her wrists tied together and to the bedframe above her head. She also sported a blindfold and a set of headphones.

Sensory deprivation. Alexia hadn’t tried it before, but it looked…incredible.

Ridley made sure the look on Alexia’s face was to her satisfaction before she leant over her other woman and pulled the headphone off of one ear.

“Baby, I have a guest here. She’s going to watch and help. Is that okay?”

“I trust you.”

“Good girl. Be patient, baby, you’ll feel good soon enough.”

She put the headphone back over her ear and kissed her gently on the lips. Alexia’s stomach dropped at that and she felt jealous. She wanted to kiss Ridley. She came back to Alexia, standing in front of her.

“You look nervous, Alexia.”

Something in her body awakened at that. It’s the first time she’d said her name. Ridley noticed and smirked, her fingers touching her cheek lightly.

“Ask me anything.”

“Is she your girlfriend?” Alexia whispered.

“No. She’s someone I sleep with.” Noticing Alexia’s unsure look, she continued. “She gets tested often. So do I. We satisfy each other.”

“You’ve been with other women though.”

“So have you, la Reina. I’ve seen you flirting around this bar with different people. You’ve been up to these rooms as often as me.” Her Spanish was impeccable, and the tiny hint of an Australian accent melted her.

Her words also shocked her. She’d been keeping track of her?

The question must have been written on her face because Ridley ducked down close enough that their lips were almost touching. “Are you here for me?”

Alexia found herself too proud to answer that.

“Hm. Will you tell me if I admit to you the reason I’m here?” Her lips found her ear where she whispered. “I come here to see you.”

Alexia shivered, her head moving towards Ridley.

“W…What do you want from me?”

“Oh many, many things. For starters, I’d like to see you doing what you’re told. Can you do that?”

Alexia nodded. Pride out the window.

“Good girl.” Ridley ghosted her lips over Alexia’s teasingly. “Now get on top of her and kiss her.”

She stepped to the side so Alexia could better see the woman on the bed. She felt Ridley behind her carefully taking off her leather jacket and placing it on a spare chair in the room. Without thinking too much about it, Alexia was on top of the gorgeous woman tied to the bed and Ridley watched as Alexia kissed her. The kiss was soft at first as the woman got used to Alexia, and then it became more open mouthed and with purpose.

“That’s enough.” Ridley said almost harshly. She guided Alexia through what she wanted her to do. To kiss her neck. To suck her nipples. To work her mouth down her body until she was settled between her legs. Ridley settled above Alexia, her mouth at her ear.

“Eat.”

Alexia did as she was told. She tasted the woman on the bed whose body gave away just how much she wanted Ridley. She was soaked.

Alexia made quick work of her; her mouth assaulting her clit. The woman on the bed wriggled desperately, moans and whimpers coming from her mouth as Alexia worked.

“Good girl. Fingers now too.”

Alexia’s fingers teasingly ran around her hole, feeling it clench around nothing. It must have been too slow for Ridley though as she took Alexia’s right hand with her own, lining up their index fingers and pushing them both in. The girl on the bed sucked in a breath and gasped at the feel. Ridley controlled her and Alexia’s fingers into the woman for a few strokes until she pulled hers out and left Alexia to finish the job. Alexia felt herself squirming excitedly and then Ridley’s hand slipped between Alexia’s body and the bed, finding its way down her pants and to her core.

“You want this?” Ridley asked in her ear.

Alexia nodded against the woman’s clit.

“Out loud.”

Her mouth popped off of her clit just to respond. “Si.”

Ridley’s fingers moved into Alexia’s folds like she knew her. She teased her clit while Alexia was getting her woman close. She just didn’t know how close Ridley was getting her.

It only took another minute for the woman to scream out asking for Ridleys permission to come. She didn’t give it until Alexia was also close and relished the feel and image of them coming simultaneously.

As Alexia came down, the warmth on her back disappeared as Ridley stood. It was then that she realised what she was doing. Ridley wasn’t kissing her. She was using her for the woman on the bed. Ridley didn’t want Alexia, she wanted her.

Alexia was ashamed of what she’d just done. She stood and felt the panic overwhelm her as she darted for the door. Ridley managed to catch her, holding her against the door with a worried expression.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m not just one of your girls you can control.” She had no idea where that came from but suddenly she remembered who she was. Strong, confident Alexia Putellas, Captain of Spain and Barcelona.

Ridley’s worry fizzled away as she realised Alexia was okay, just mad at her.

“I don’t think of you like that, Alexia.”

Again, that name from her mouth sounded like it dripped with honey.

“This,” she gestured to where she’d just been, “this makes me feel like that.”

Ridley looked like she’d been expectedly exposed and she leant down as if to kiss Alexia but stopped herself short. Alexia had been watching her closely, wishing she hadn’t stopped. She wanted her, not some random woman.

“I…I don't know how to give you anything else…” Ridley admitted with a pain in her eyes Alexia couldn’t understand.

“Ridley?” The voice came from the bed. Alexia’s heart sunk. She was so conflicted with no idea how or why.

“You need to go to her.”

The look on Ridley’s face said that she didn’t want to be anywhere except right there, with Alexia.

“I…” She leant forwards again, letting herself show just how much the footballer mesmerised her. Her fingertips brushed Alexia’s lips ever so softly and they parted under her touch. Ridley. Ridley. Ridley. It was like a chant in her head. All Ridley needed to do was give up that control, but they both knew it was more than that. “Yes, I do.”

Ridley composed herself and took a step back, the two watching each other for a little before Alexia turned and left.

Her back hit the wall outside as she took some deep breaths and shivered, trying to understand what happened. She needed to control herself. She had a game tomorrow.

Alexia took out her phone to order an Uber just as a message from Lucy appeared.

Lucy: All flights cancelled. She’s not coming. Do you need a lift home?

#woso #womens football #woso community #woso fanfics #woso soccer #woso imagine #jordan nobbs #lucy bronze #lucy bronze x reader #engwnt #lionesses #lucy bronze imagine #woso x reader #alexia putellas #barca femeni #barcelona femeni #fc barcelona #barca #culers

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yanderepuck · 4 months ago

Text

Kinktober Day 1

AND WE'RE BACK FOR A FOURTH TIME. It's that lovely time of the year where I write mediocre smut with no plot for a whole month. So sit your ass down and take a few minutes to read some smut.

As always, kinktober is held by our local Napoleon simp, @xxsycamore

If you'd like to read the last three years, go here

Remember to reblog and tell me what you think

Porn Star Au | One Night Stand

You've been doing this for a while now. It started as just some extra money on the side and now it's like a full time job.

Working a camsite started in college and you earned so much you nearly dropped out. There are a few users that are always your top fans. But there is one in particular that really seems to get off to you.

You've chatted in dm's a few times and he's even paid you enough for personal videos. His name is Napoleon, or at least it's the name he told you. You are pretty sure he has a thing for feet, and he's asked for your underwear a few times. But who are you to judge you live stream yourself masturbating and groping yourself.

A few days ago Napoleon dm'ed you for a request. Not a private video or even for you to send him something. He wants to send you a toy to use on a live stream.

You were worried at first. You have a wish list of things that people occasionally buy from but this was different. He apparently already had the item. So you quickly got yourself a P.O. box and told him to ship it there. Even if you two have been chatting for a few years you still can't fully trust someone online. Not on a camsite.

So now you're sitting on your bed with the box. Luckily he didn't ask you to open it on live stream, you're too nervous about what it could be.

Carefully you open it, and shift through the packaging. You find a dildo and a note. It was kept short. He used one of those 'clone-a-willy' kits to make a silicone version of his dick.

You look back at the dildo and pause for a moment. "Maybe I should have let you come over."

The note said that he wanted you to use it on live stream so that others would watch his cock fucking you.

You've got to admit that's pretty hot. Maybe a little creepy to anyone else. But it's hot. Damn. Does that mean he likes when people watch too? That shouldn't be surprising, he watches you.

You quickly open up your chat to thank him for it. He is probably busy with work right now but you let him know that you'll be streaming tonight and using it.

It's strange. He's just someone online who sends you money, but you also know his schedule and what his life is like.

Later you start to stream. Your camera is set up and you start it. You are sitting there in a lingerie set, typing out a caption for a video. You make sure even if people come in late they know this is a fans dick you are using.

You've done this so many times that you aren't even nervous. You wait until people start entering the stream before explaining.

"My biggest supporter on here made a replica of his cock for me," you hold it up to show the size of it. "Now I'm thinking I should have just invited him over," you giggle a little. "So tonight you guys get to watch his cock fuck me," you more further back on the bed and lean over. "But first."

You place the dildo upright on the bed and lick the shaft up to the tip. You drag your tongue across it a few times before taking it into your mouth, moaning as you do. You bob your head up and down, occasionally looking up at the camera, checking the chat. You would be looking for Napoleon's messages, but you actually have your dm's open.

Without letting the stream know, he's telling you what to do.

You can take more of my cock. Come on. Let me feel the back of your throat

After reading the message you take more of the dildo in your mouth. You stick your ass up in the air as your head bobs up and down.

You've never had this thought before but right now you're wishing it was a real cock. You moaned as the tip hit the back of your throat. Your tongue lapped over the veins that were popping out.

You lifted your head up, tongue hanging out of your mouth, strands of saliva keeping you and the tip connected. You glance down at your personal chat.

Good girl. I wish I could really feel your lips around my cock.

Now sit on it and ride me

You have something just for this. You have a strap that goes around a pillow, and you're able to attach a dildo to it to ride it easier. You tested it earlier to make sure it fits and luckily it does.

With drool at the corner of your lips you set up the dildo and hover over it. As you sit yourself down you let out a moan. You get it all the way in you before you start rocking your hips.

With your hands on your thighs you squeeze them.

How does my cock feel?

"Oh fuck. It's so deep," you gasp. One of your hands goes up your body to grope yourself. Your moan louder, squeezing yourself.

You start going up and down on the dildo. Your moans only get louder as the toy pushes its way deeper into you.

"Ungh. Fuck your cock is great," you push your hair out of your face and fuck yourself harder, coming down quicker.

You're breathing picks up the harder you go.

Say my name when you cum~

You look at the message and move your hand from your thigh and start rubbing your clit for more stimulation.

"Ahh-hh!" You hit a good spot and your body inches closer to finishing.

You feel like you're reaching your climax quicker than usual. If this is what the dildo is like, then what can his actual dick do?

"F-fuck, oh fuck!" You grope yourself harder and moan louder. "N-Napoleon!" You come down on the toy as hard as you can for the final push, getting yourself to cum.

You pant lightly. You haven't even looked at the live stream chat, only your dm's.

Why don't you take that toy off the pillow and fuck yourself with it.

You do as he says. Taking the dildo off and laying back, thrusting the toy into you. The only things that can be heard are your moans and the wet noises of the toy entering your hole.

Writers note: I REALLY REALLY REALLY HOPE YOU LIKE THIS MO. I was nervous about this not really being a porn star au, but it's really the only idea I had fully thought out. I hate that I couldn't really think of something where he is actually there. But I guess we can add Napoleon being a bit of a cuck to the list. Also reminds me of Sara's old cursed relic fics oddly enough

#kinktober #ikevamp #ikemen vampire #ikevamp napoleon #smut smut smut

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merakiui · 2 years ago

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Meraaaaaa Geppie has been holding me trapped in a brainrot lately...

Insatiable Geppie who gets soooooo damn horny and pussy drunk!

"I'm sorry dear! I'm sorry darling! Pleaseese let me go for another round! I'm sorry I got hard again! You just look so cute like this... You'll let me go for another round right?"

(It wasn't a question, you don't have a choice.)

Man is gonna go for his 15th round tonight <3 he is just soooo horny! His horniness could be compared to a teen boy who just discovered a p*rn magazine, but unlike a teen boy, our man Geppie has a stupid amount of stamina! His libido is absolutely unmatched, he works out regularly so his fitness strengthens his sex drive even more!

I bet Geppie has been so pent up these past few years, he wasn't aware on how pent up he was until he met Darling <3 oh so very cute and breedable! He is just horny gripping! He apologizes soooo much but he isn't really sorry if that soppy cunt is begging for more!

You can yell no! Or tell him to stop, but he will pretend he can't hear and continues~ he is insatiable!

"Geppie go for any longer and I will die~ it's hurting Geppie! Geppie stop I'm tired!" You whine.

"Shhh shhh one last round honey(it won't be), you can do that for me can't you?" He just coos the entire time... It felt kinda patronising. Your cries fall on deaf ears.

You probably won't be conscious during after care, but he gets really soft! (As long as his dick stays soft and his balls are emptied) he will run a bath for you and treat you gently. Get angry all you want once you wake up, he will apologize profusely but we all know he would do it again...

Hmmm maybe a Yandere Gepard? Who only comes out after dating.... Yan!Geppie who ignores your safeword and babytraps you!?!

(⁠๑⁠♡⁠⌓⁠♡⁠๑⁠)

(btw Mera! Take care of yourself, stay hydrated!! Xoxo)

AAAAAAA IZUNA, YOU FEED ME TOO WELL OMG….. orz he gets the most pussy-drunk, and when he’s like this, dazed out of his mind and focused solely on making you feel good, seeing you cry from sheer pleasure, feeling you squeeze and tighten up around him each time you cum… he loves you so, so much; you’re just the sweetest, cutest darling he’s ever had the honor of loving!

I think, along with Gepard being so secretly horny after he’s fallen for you, that he gets so worked up over the smallest things. Like if you wear something modest. It shows no skin, isn’t tight, and is simply just comfortable on you. Maybe a sweater (even better: one of his sweaters, and it doesn’t matter what your height is because you’ll likely drown in it because he’s just so broad-shouldered and big, so the sweater looks oversized on you)!!! That has him horny gripping so badly omg. Gepard thinks about that all day during his patrols and near the end he’s insatiable. He can’t wait to get home and fuck you while you wear his sweater.

He’s probably preferential to missionary. I feel like it’s his favorite position because it’s just so romantic and sweet and intimate to him. That and fucking you on your side from behind so he can wrap his arms around you and hold you close against his chest. <3 he has so much stamina and since he’s only just fallen in love and started having sex at his age he’s so ready to explore every inch of you and more!!

Regarding Gepard who becomes yandere after dating!!!!! He was the model boyfriend for so long, albeit a little awkward at times. But he’s just so sweet and doting. He cares about you immensely and is the perfect husband material. You’ve been dating long enough that Gepard thinks it would be okay to propose you live with him from now on. And miraculously, you agree! He’s so happy that he helps with the entire process, easily assisting with packing your things away into boxes and lifting and carrying them to wherever you need them to go. He can’t wait to start living with you! And maybe soon he’ll propose… he has the ring; he just needs to wait for the right moment.

He’s always thought of starting a family. It’s lingered in his mind whenever he looks at you and sees you doing anything domestic or anything you’re particularly fond of. He imagines you passing your hobbies onto the children, all of them seated at your feet while you sit in a rocking chair, pregnant with another child, and teach them how to draw or crochet or write or anything else you find fun in doing often. It’s such a vivid picture in his mind that he absolutely must make a reality! Gepard realizes that since you’re still young you’ll likely be very fertile and so he hopes that it’ll only take a few rounds until you eventually, hopefully, fall pregnant.

Even if you’re squirming under him, telling him to pull out, using the safe word, whimpering that you’re scared and don’t want him to cum inside, that it isn’t a safe day, he can’t help it. You’ll have to forgive him. He’s just so in love with you, so drunk on the feeling of your pussy wrapped around his cock, so infatuated with the idea of a domestic life, of a house full of children, of becoming a parent alongside you. He’ll be the best father! He’ll help you with each and every pregnancy! There’s nothing to be scared of. Geppie’s here to take care of you, so there’s no need to cry. But then you’re crying because you’re so happy, right? Because you want this, too.

#honkai chit chat #yandere honkai star rail #n/sfw #video-game-luvr #tw: baby trapping #tw: pregnancy #thank you for sending such a delicious concept orz #and i will make sure to take care of myself and stay hydrated!!#please also remember to do the same :D xoxoxo

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rafeandonlyrafe · 1 year ago

Text

locked in

words: 1.7k

warnings: getting grounded as an adult lol, rafe sneaking in to your house, struggling in school

“dad, this is so unfair!” you shout. “i’m an adult, you can’t ground me!”

“as long as you live under this roof i can do whatever i want.” your dad says, taking your phone and locking it in the safe before shoving they key in his pocket. “you’re lucky that your professor agreed to let you redo your exam. now go up to your room and study for it. i don’t want to see you again until morning.”

“at least let me text rafe-” you begin, but the glare your father gives you says it all. “ugh!” you shout, throwing your hands up and stomping up to your room, slamming the door hard shut. you shove your textbooks off your bed and flop down, letting your angry tears spill.

you knew taking college classes on the mainland was a mistake, but you wanted to make your father proud by being the first one in your family to graduate from college, even if it was just an associates degree from a community college.

you tried to argue that while your dad didn’t have a degree, he still made it, living in a big house on an island, but he argued back that he only made it because he put in hours and hours of manual labor into construction before he moved up the ladder to own his own company.

“so fucking stupid.” you mumble to yourself, rubbing your eyes that are now sore from the tears. you look around your room. maybe your dad was right when he said you’ve been too distracted lately. it was just that things were so good with you and rafe that you wanted to spend all your time with him.

you pick up your textbook and grab your notebook. there’s nothing else better to do and you really do want to pass this exam. you’re only one more semester away from getting your degree, it would be silly to give up now that you’re so close.

you find it slightly easier to concentrate without your phone, but you’re distracted by thoughts of rafe. you wonder how bad he’s worrying about you right now. you didn’t have anything specific planned for tonight, but you always spent as much time together as you could, so it was natural that you saw each other every night.

you get through the couple chapters you need to before setting your textbook to the side, knowing you now have to go through and actually do the assignments that you rushed through and therefore didn’t understand when you were tested on them. you don’t realize how long you’ve been studying until the sun from your window doesn’t illuminate the room enough for you to read the words. you hop up and flick on your light before going to the window, opening it to get some fresh air, feeling trapped in this one box, even though you can technically leave, your dad would just be pissed.

“y/n!”

you look out the window, feeling tears well up in your eyes at rafe standing in your side yard. you wonder how long he’s been waiting. he probably came right over when you didn’t respond within five minutes to one of his texts.

“i got my phone taken away.” you tell rafe.

“fuck, i knew something must have happened and that you weren’t just ignoring me.”

you can’t help but let out a giggle. “never.”

“can i come up?” rafe asks, and you quickly shake your head no. “my dad won’t let you in, plus i have… stuff to do.” “i can help.” rafe says, looking at the lattice leading up to your second story. “and your dad doesn’t have to know.” “rafe, you’ll fall!” you say, but you know once he has an idea in his head that they’re no swaying him. you rush away from the window to lock your door and by the time you return, rafe has already started to climb up. you slide your screen out of the way so once he’s up he can climb in.

“be careful.” you say as rafe’s hands reach your window. he climbs up some more and you help him all the way in, and the second his feet hit your floor, you’re in his arms, his lips against yours. you melt into the kiss, feeling all the stress, anger and anxiety of the last couple hours leave your body. you kiss back, bringing your hands up to his chest, feeling his strong muscles underneath your palms.

“what happened, baby?” rafe asks as he puts the screen of the window back in place for you.

you realize in that moment how embarrassed you are to tell rafe what happened. you avoid talking with him about your studies at all, wanting him to think that you’re smart and sailing through them, when in reality it’s been a struggle.

“i, um… i failed my exam.” you say, moving to sit on your bed to avoid looking rafe in the eye.

“oh, baby, i’m sorry.” rafe says, coming to sit next to you. he wraps an arm around your shoulders, letting you lean against him. he gives you a minute to just be in his presence before he continues, “why didn’t you tell me, love? i could have helped you study.” you let out a sarcastic laugh, “you don’t want to help me study rafe! it’s boring.”

rafe frowns. he takes his arm away and tries to get you to turn and look at him, but you just can’t, you’re too upset, so you keep your head down. rafe slides onto the floor, kneeling in front of you and taking your face in his hands so you have no choice but to look at him.

“i want to help you study, y/n, if that’s what you need to be doing. don’t skip out on school work just for me. i’ll do anything as long as it’s with you, okay?” “i love you.” you tell rafe, relief flooding through your body as you pitch forward, kissing him intensely. your hands slide over his neck, feeling the cords of muscles that run down it, but before you can deepen the kiss further, rafe pulls away.

“i love you too, and that’s why i’m going to help you study.”

you groan and fall back on your bed, but rafe grabs your assignments anyways. you work well as a team, and you find everything so much easier now that rafes here. it makes you regret not letting him help you over the past year when you were silently struggling. you finish up your last homework assignment as rafe makes flashcards for you.

once you’re done you lay down on the bed together, your head in rafes lap as he quizzes you. you struggle at first but keep going through the set of cards until you know the answer before rafe even finishes reading the question.

your flow is suddenly broken by a loud knock on the door. “y/n.” your father says, and your wide eyes meet rafes. “don’t bother. i know he’s in there.”

you sit up and kiss rafe, probably the last time you’ll be able to before he’s kicked out, and head to unlock the door. “he’s helping me study, dad!” you say, not even letting him lecture you. “and i was doing really bad before he got here so please don’t be mad!”

“mr. y/l/n, can i talk to you in the hallway?” rafe asks, and you can tell that your dad is taken aback. he nods in agreement, probably partly in shock at the request, and probably part because your dad is often contracted out by ward cameron, so your dad can’t be that mean to his son.

you look at rafe in confusion as he walks out of your room. he presses a kiss to your forehead and then shuts the door behind him.

you pace your room for a minute before realizing they probably didn’t move too far away, and you press your ear against the wood of the door to just barely make out the conversation.

“you know how much i care about your daughter, mr. y/l/n. i only came here because i was concerned about her. she didn’t tell me she was struggling in school. i hope you believe me when i say that, because if i had any clue that she was going to fail an exam, i would have been the one locking her in her room to study.” rafe says.

“i figured you were the one encouraging her not to.” your dad admits.

“i would never. i can understand now looking back why you would think that though. i love her, sir. i want the best for her, i want her to graduate. i am incredibly serious about our future together and would do everything for my future wife.”

you pull your ear away from the door, covering up your gasp with your hand. future wife. rafe never referred to you as that before. sure, you talked about a future together after you graduated, but nothing like that. you go to sit on your bed, no longer feeling good about listening to the conversation as it feels too personal, even if it is all about you.

it’s only another minute or so before your door opens, and rafe steps inside, shutting it gently behind him as you sit there and wait for him to say something.

“you’re not in trouble anymore.” rafe says, coming over and stroking a hand over your hair, “as long as you pass your exam tomorrow. i’ll drive you that way you can study your flashcards on the way there.” “thank you rafe.” you say, accepting his kiss when he leans down to press one against your lips. “i heard a little bit of your conversation.” you feel weird keeping it a secret.

“oh, yeah?” rafe smirks, “did you hear the part about how i want to marry you one day?”

you nod, a blush coming to your cheeks.

rafe leans down again so you’re face to face, “then you know how serious i am about us, about you. no more keeping your struggles from me. we are in this together.”

390 notes · View notes

corroded-hellfire · 2 years ago

Note

Where the heart is.... maybe keeping in theme of first holidays and how Eddie wants to surprise the reader for their first valentines day.

Happy 2k!!!

+ valentines day in the where the heart is universe? i love them so much 🥹

I love that I got the same request in the same universe twice! I hope you enjoy this little Valentine’s Day story. Many thanks to @munson-blurbs for helping me so much with this 💚

In the same universe as Where the Heart Is

Warnings: smut, p in v, unprotected (wrap it up), oral m and f receiving

Words: 5.5k

[Where the Heart Is masterlist]

When your alarm blares at eight o’clock in the morning, you groan and shove your head underneath the pillow. Unfortunately, that doesn’t shut it off, so you flail your arm around until you’ve managed to silence it. Shelby huffs from her bed across the room and you mentally give her the finger. Her eyes are still closed so you could’ve physically done it, but you don’t have the energy to lift your hand. You and Eddie had been on the phone until midnight last night, both of you insisting you had to be talking to one another the moment it went from February 13th to February 14th.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, baby,” he’d said.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Eddie.”

Usually, you’re very conscientious about getting off the phone so your roommate can go to sleep, but just this once Shelby could deal with it.

But now, even though you don’t regret being on the phone for a moment with Eddie, you wish you could sleep in just a few more minutes. Begrudgingly taking your head out from underneath your pillow, you roll onto your back and take a look at your clock. Eight o’clock. Eddie should be awake now, his shift starting in an hour at the garage. He’d probably have a few minutes free to talk, but you know you’d probably both end up being late for your obligations today.

With a sigh, you push yourself out of bed and shuffle over to your closet. The tile floor is freezing against your socked feet, and you take a peek out the window to see that it’s snowing pretty heavily outside. The heaviest sweater you own is pink, which works out perfectly for the holiday. You pair it with your thickest jeans and the warmest brown boots in your closet.

As you’re running a brush through your hair, Shelby startles you by sitting up in her bed with a loud groan.

“Thank God it’s Friday,” she says with a sigh.

You hum in agreement, one last yawn sneaking its way out of your mouth. Opening your jewelry box, you take out the charm bracelet that Eddie gave you for Christmas and secure it on your wrist.

“I’ll see you later,” you say, shrugging on your coat. Shelby gives you a two-finger wave as you sling your backpack on.

Luckily, you only have the one class on Friday’s, and it was probably your favorite – abnormal psychology. Also luckily on this blisteringly cold day, the Psychology building isn’t too far of a walk from your dorm building. Once you’re comfortably seated in the blissfully warm lecture hall, you notice most students are wearing red or pink, all decked out for the holiday. A couple a few rows in front of you is holding hands. You rest your elbow on the table next to your notebook, propping up your chin as you let out a melancholy sigh.

This is the first time you’ve had a Valentine, and you know without a doubt that you have the best one. But he’s a thousand miles away, curls probably tied in a bun at the base of his neck as he works under the hood of a car. Every second is going to tick by slower than ever until you get to talk to him tonight.

The class is interesting as always though, so it manages to keep your mind engaged enough not to fixate on missing your boyfriend. It’s snowing even harder than before class when you step out of the psychology building, heading toward the dining hall. Nancy’s class ends ten minutes before yours so she’s probably already in there waiting for you, getting toasty after being out in the bitter cold. But as you approach the large glass doors, Nancy is hurrying out, mouth chewing on something.

“Nance? What’s up?” you ask. She covers her mouth as she finishes the food in her mouth before speaking.

“I’m so sorry, I can’t do lunch today. Emergency at the student paper. I only had time to grab a quick sandwich.”

“No, no, it’s okay,” you assure her. “I’ll see you for dinner?”

“Definitely,” she says, giving you one last apologetic look before she heads off, tightening her cream colored coat around her small frame.

It was moments like these that the book in your backpack came in handy. You didn’t mind eating alone, but you also needed something to focus on other than your food. The hall looks more crowded than usual today, probably because everyone wants to get out of the cold. You’re quick to pick up a bowl of steaming hot mac and cheese and nestle yourself into a corner table where you can look out onto the falling snow.

After the first bite fills your frigid body with some much needed heat, you reach into your bag to pull out your copy of Pride and Prejudice when a voice sounds from behind you.

“Is this seat free?”

On instinct you’re about to say that it is, but your mind catches up to your ears and realizes you know that voice. Your head whips around so quickly that your own hair smacks you in the face. Shaking it from your eyes, you look up to see the grinning face of your boyfriend.

“Eddie!” You leap up and throw your arms around his neck. He laughs and wraps you up in his arms, lifting you so that the toes of your boots are barely brushing the ground.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, baby,” he says in your ear. Pressing a kiss to your cheek, he sets you back down. You take his face in your hands, mind having trouble putting the pieces together that he’s standing here in front of you.

“Happy Valentine's Day,” you say, voice still sounding dazed. “You’re here.”

“Of course I’m here. Couldn’t let today go by without seeing my best girl.” Eddie cups your jaw in his large hands, leaning in to press his lips to yours. The questions swirl through your mind, one after the other, wondering when he got here and how long he’s been planning everything. But none of it seems to matter when his mouth is on yours.

“You’re done with classes for the day, right?” Eddie asks once you’ve pulled away for air.

“I am. Wait.” You raise an eyebrow at him, and a mischievous smile comes to your lips. “Are you why Nancy suddenly couldn’t have lunch with me?”

“Maybe.” Eddie shrugs, a shit eating grin on his face. “Now, come on. Let’s finish your lunch so we can get over to the hotel.”

“Hotel?” you ask as you sit back down. “Wait.” You laugh as Eddie sits down next to you. “Did you say ‘let’s’ finish, as in you too?”

“Yes and yes,” Eddie says, grabbing your fork and shoveling a mouthful of mac and cheese into his maw.

When you get back to your dorm to pack for your weekend hotel adventure with Eddie, there’s a vase of yellow roses next to Shelby’s bed.

“Wonder who sent those,” you say as you pull a bag out from under your bed. “She and Joey broke up weeks ago.”

“I brought them,” Eddie says. Hand on the closet door, you pause and frown in confusion.

“For Shelby?”

“Yeah.” He slides his hand into his pockets and nods his head towards the flowers. “The guy at the flower place said yellow is for friendship. I dropped those off here before coming to find you. Figured she could use some cheering up since the breakup.”

The fact that Eddie not only was thoughtful enough to bring your annoying roommate flowers, but that he remembered she’d just gone through a breakup makes your heart swell. Eddie Munson was truly the kindest person you had ever met and the fact that you got to be his girlfriend made you feel giddier than all the champagne in the world could. Pausing your packing, you grab the sides of Eddie’s face and pull his lips to yours.

“You’re the sweetest man alive,” you whisper against his lips. Eddie chuckles and gives you another quick peck.

“Don’t worry, baby. Got you flowers too.”

Truthfully, that hadn’t even crossed your mind. But of course he had.

“Where are they?” you ask.

“Hotel,” he says with a wink as he slides his hands onto your hips. “Can I pick out your underwear for the weekend?”

The devious look on his face as you flushing.

“And my bras too? And what about pajamas?”

“Sure, I’ll pick out your bras, too.” Eddie leans in and presses a kiss to the side of your neck. “But I don’t think you’ll need pajamas.”

“What should I wear to sleep then?” you ask, giving Eddie the most innocent look you can manage.

“I was thinking nothing,” Eddie says with a shrug.

“Hmm,” you hum as you take a few steps over to your dresser. “You may want to rethink that.” Out from the top drawer you pull a skimpy negligee you’d spotted at the mall a few weeks ago. The pinkish purple silk has lace lining the neckline and the hem, a pretty pale pink. Perfect for Valentine's Day.

“Shit.” Eddie’s eyes grow wide and darker as he looks at the bit of material hanging from your fingers. “Okay, yeah. Start the night in that. End in nothing.”

“Good compromise,” you tease as you toss the nighty into your bag. “Now hurry and pick out your favorite pairs of my underwear.”

“Challenge accepted.” Eddie rubs his hands together as he walks over to your delicates drawer.

In your car on the way to the hotel you pepper Eddie with the questions that have been buzzing through your mind since he appeared in the dining hall.

“When did you get here?”

“A few hours ago.”

“Did you get any sleep after we hung up last night?”

“A little. And I slept on the plane.”

“How long are you here?”

“Fly home Sunday night.”

“Why’d you get a hotel?”

“Really, babe? Besides the fact that I didn’t feel like getting complaints from your RA when I make you moan too loud?” He pauses with a laugh as you reach over to swat at him. “I knew Shelby wouldn’t be staying with her boyfriend since she doesn’t have one anymore and I wasn’t about to give her a free sex show.”

The hotel room is small, but it’s clean, warm, and has a bed. That’s all that matters to you. And just as he promised, there’s a vase that’s stuffed to the gills with red roses sitting on the bedside table. The sight brings tears to your eyes as you drop your bag on the bed. No one has ever gotten you flowers before, let alone roses.

“Eddie, they’re beautiful.”

He slips up behind you and wraps his arms around your waist. You feel his hot breath brush against your ear as he rests his chin on your shoulder.

“Fitting for the most beautiful girl.”

There’s a large box of chocolates next to the flowers, a bright red ribbon tied around the cardboard heart. You rest your head back against your boyfriend’s shoulder and turn your head to kiss his cheek.

“How many of those candies are missing, hmm?” you ask. A squeal of laughter leaves your lips as Eddie digs his fingers into the softness of your tummy.

“Not one, thank you very much,” he says as he tickles you. “Maybe if you’re nice to me I’ll feed them to you. Like you see on the covers of those sappy romance books.”

“The ones where the men’s nipples are always showing?” you ask as you start to playfully fight with him, pulling out of his arms to escape his clutches.

“I’ll be shirtless for it if you want me to,” Eddie says. He tugs on your coat sleeve but with one quick unbuttoning, you’re sliding out of the garment completely, leaving Eddie there standing with your coat in his hands. You kick off your boots, Eddie following your lead, and you kick them into the corner so no one can trip on them. Eddie rids himself of his leather jacket, tossing both it and your coat onto the single chair in the room.

Making your way back over to your boyfriend, you start to push him onto the bed and shock paints your face when he shakes his head.

“I know you’ve got that sexy lingerie in there,” he murmurs into your ear and motions to your duffel bag. “Go put it on f’me, yeah?”

“I was saving it for tonight,” you pout, jutting out your lower lip in protest.

Eddie just laughs. “No time like the present, baby.”

“I expect you to be a lot closer to being naked than you are right now when I come out of that bathroom,” you tell him as you pick up your bag. He gives you a salute before you walk into the bathroom and close the door behind you.

When you take off your soft warm sweater a chill enters your bones. Wearing less, and then no, clothing doesn’t faze you though, even in the middle of February. There’s not a doubt in your mind that Eddie is going to warm you up. But as you strip out of your jeans and socks, you let out a hiss through your teeth as you see you haven’t shaved your legs.

“Uh, Eds?” you call as you creak open the bathroom door.

“What’s up?”

“I, uh, didn’t shave my legs,” you admit, heat gathering in your cheeks. “Didn’t know you’d be here. Haven’t been wearing shorts.”

Eddie just laughs, the booming sound making your tummy tumble. “Babe, I don’t care if you’ve got some stubble. Shit, I don’t care if you have longer leg hair than I do. Just come out here so I can kiss you and shit.”

“So romantic,” you say with a scoff, regarding his last sentence. But really, the fact that Eddie doesn’t care if your legs are perfectly smooth or not makes him even more amazing in your book.

The silk of the negligee feels nice as it hits your skin, sending goosebumps over your chest and down your arms. You turn your head upside down to shake out your hair, hoping to give it some volume. It won’t matter how it looks because it’ll either be in Eddie’s hands or pressed into a pillow in a few minutes, but it’s the principle of the thing.

When you step out of the bathroom, the floor is biting cold against your bare feet. Trying to ignore the chill, you try to walk slower and sexier. A “sexy” walk isn’t something that’s generally taught, so you’re doubting yourself the whole way towards the bed. But when Eddie’s eyes land on you, they light up. Suddenly, there’s a pressure behind your eyes. Tears could start streaming at any moment and your body starts to feel warm from the inside out. Because all of a sudden you know. You know that it doesn’t matter that you haven’t shaved your legs. It doesn’t matter that your hair might be a little messy after trying to fluff it up. It doesn’t matter if the walk you were just doing looked stupid. Because Eddie doesn’t see any of that. He sees you and it makes you feel safe in a way you never knew you needed.

The tears don’t come but the feeling of safety and belonging doesn’t wane. Your eyes take in Eddie’s figure on the bed, shirt off – pink and white scars that you’ve come to love and memorize on full display – belt undone and fly unzipped, ready for you to strip him right down.

“There’s my sexy Valentine,” Eddie says, eyes still drinking you in.

Giving him a shy smile, you walk over and tug on the ends of his black jeans. He lifts his hips for you so can slide them all the way off. “Boxers too, mister.”

Eddie rids himself of his boxers and you feel a significant surge of wetness between your legs as you’re greeted by his long pretty cock. It’s been inside you dozens of times now, but you still get that bubbly feeling whenever you see it.

“Staring might not be polite, but I like when you do it.”

Eddie’s words have your eyes meeting his, a smirk on his face while yours is growing warmer. He holds out his hand for you and you take it, letting him guide you onto the bed next to him. Fingers tracing down the bare skin of his arm, you cuddle up to his side and press soft sweet kisses along his neck.

“You’re so pretty,” you mumble absentmindedly against his skin. A pretty pink hue creeps up his neck, even coloring his ears at your words. A strong calloused hand comes down to rest on your thigh, thumb stroking lovingly on the inner part of your leg. “What do you want first, baby?”

“First, I wanted you in this,” Eddie says, finger coming up to tangle in the piece of lace at the bottom of the nighty. “Now, I want to taste that pretty pussy of yours. Been thinking about it all day.”

“Oh yeah?” you ask, looking at him from underneath your lashes. Eddie takes your hand and places your palm right on top of his cock.

“Been half hard all day just thinking about it. But you wearing this while I eat you out? Shit baby, we’re going to have to go a few rounds because I’m telling you right now, I’m not going to be able to last long.”

“Better get to work then,” you say, shooting Eddie a smirk as you settle back against the pillows. He rolls over onto his stomach and slides down the blue floral duvet. When you spread your legs for him, he lets out a groan that sounds like it deflated all the air from his body.

He takes your words to heart, wasting no time throwing your leg over his shoulder and moving your other one to the side, giving him the perfect view of how wet you already are for him. Slowly, Eddie moves his body up closer to yours. Large hands grab at the bottom of your lingerie and Eddie’s pushing it up, so it gathers around your waist. He didn’t want anything to get in between him and his prize.

Eddie places a few kisses up your thighs, but he knows they’ll be plenty of time for teasing later. He may only be in town for two nights, but he was going to make every second count. A hand is braced on each inner thigh, hard enough for you to find finger shaped bruises in the morning. He dips his head in, taking his first taste of you in weeks. How was it possible that your slick on his tongue was even sweeter than he remembered? As he goes in for another swipe of his tongue, your hand grips the duvet below you. His flicks his tongue against your clit, causing you to let out the smallest of whimpers. Always encouraged by the pretty sounds you make, Eddie keeps the attention on your clit, swirling his tongue around it before sucking on the small bud.

“Eddie,” you whine, and Eddie feels his cock twitch where it’s trapped between his body and the mattress.

“What is it, princess?”

“Feels so good.”

That makes Eddie smile against your pussy, pressing a few soft kisses to the area before slipping his tongue inside of you. The feeling of the wet warm muscle entering you makes your back arch off the bed and Eddie uses one strong arm across your pelvis to keep your hips in place.

“I missed this, baby,” Eddie says before delving back into your hole.

“M-Me too.” You don’t have the mental fortitude to keep up a conversation when your boyfriend’s head is buried between your legs.

“So wet,” Eddie muses, mostly to himself, as he pulls away and some of your slick keeps his chin connected to your throbbing cunt.

Adjusting his position to make himself more comfortable, Eddie wraps an arm around each of your thighs, pulling you closer to him as his tongue starts to really work you. He alternates between licks and sucking on your clit, never letting your dripping hole go too without attention either. He slips two fingers into you with no resistance and begins to hunt for that place inside that he knows drives you wild. It doesn’t take him long to find it; Eddie was a quick study when it came to learning your body and how to make it feel good.

Curling his fingers up has you keening, your boyfriend smiling in satisfaction at making you feel this good. It only takes a few rough strokes of his fingers before your hands are scrambling for purchase on the bed.

“Eds, I’m gonna - shit I’m,” you moan out.

“I’ve got you baby,” Eddie assures you, lips still against your clit. “Let go. Cum for me.”

That’s all you need to hear before your legs are closing around Eddie’s head and your walls are clenching around his thick fingers. He works you through your orgasm, wanting you to get every last bit of enjoyment out of it.

“There we go,” Eddie says as he slips his fingers out of you. “How was that, princess?”

It’s with heavy lidded eyes that you watch Eddie bring his fingers up to his lips and suck your slick from them. The sight of it has another moan slipping free from you.

“Was s’good, baby,” you say as you try to catch your breath. “But I need your cock.”

“Anything for you, sweetheart.” Eddie crawls up your body and presses his lips softly against yours, the intimacy of it making your tummy buzz.

A pale arm reaches over to the bedside table, fumbling with a square box behind the heart shaped one. Eddie’s deft thick fingers pluck a condom from it and the foil crinkles as he works it open.

“Hey.” There’s a smile on your face as you catch Eddie’s wrist in your hand.

“What’s up?” he asks, brow pinching in concern.

“We, uh, we don’t really need that,” you say, eyes glancing down at the condom. “I figured it would be a surprise when I saw you over Spring Break, but I guess now works too.”

“Surprise me with what?” Eddie asks. His eyes dart down to your stomach, and you can’t help but roll your eyes.

“I’m not pregnant,” you say with a laugh. “I started taking the pill.”

“Oh. Well, fuck this thing then.” Eddie tosses the condom over his shoulder and cups your face in his hands as you laugh some more at his antics. He presses a few tender kisses to your lips, smiling against your mouth. “Shit, can’t believe I get to feel all of you, baby.”

“Mm, that’s what I wanted,” you say as you wrap your arms around his neck. “Good surprise?”

“Amazing surprise,” Eddie says, trailing the kisses down to your neck. You decide to throw another little surprise Eddie’s way as you hook your ankles where they rest just below his ass and roll the pair of you over until you’re on top of him.

Eddie’s hair is splayed out on the pillow around him, a dark halo of curls, and looks up at you with lust blown eyes, pupils swallowing the brown.

“Wanna ride you,” you say. Mouth hanging open but no sound coming out, Eddie just nods his head at you, causing you to giggle. “No words, baby?”

He takes a few breaths and licks over his lips before speaking. “You’re on top of me. Wearing that. Saying you want to ride me. I have no thoughts in my head right now.”

With a laugh, you lean down and rest your forehead against his. “You’re adorable.”

Rising up on your knees, you take Eddie’s cock in your hand and line him up with your entrance. Both of your mouths drop open as you sink down on him, a whimper coming from you as Eddie squeezes his eyes closed.

“Shit, I didn’t think it could get any better,” Eddie says. “But fuck, feeling you is perfect.”

“Uh huh,” you pant out as you nod your head in agreement. Finally sinking all the way down on him, you place your hands on Eddie’s chest to give yourself a moment to adjust. Fingertips dig into his scars and his hands come up to rest on your hips.

The first roll of your hips has Eddie releasing a groan from the back of his throat, his thumbs digging into your hip bones. The way his head tilts back, revealing the pale expanse of his neck to you has you rolling your hips a little bit harder. The muscles are straining, and you can see a vein throbbing on the side of his neck. The temptation is too strong, and you find yourself leaning down and running your tongue from between Eddie’s collar bones, up his neck, and all the way to the light stubble coating his chin. The thin sheen of sweat on his skin leaves a salty taste in your mouth.

He grins up at you, a hungry gleam in his eye. The look sends a flare through your body, landing straight between your legs, making your walls clench around him.

“Fuck,” Eddie spits out. Only encouraged by his reactions, your hips pick up the pace. Your boyfriend is a moaning, panting mess underneath you and it’s only driving you crazier. Lifting off of him before slamming back down had Eddie’s eyes rolling back in his head. Your self-satisfaction only grows when you see the tears leaking from the corner of his eyes. Swiping one up with your thumb, you pop the digit into your mouth, leaving Eddie even more of a whining mess.

“M’close,” Eddie says. He manages to take a deep breath before gripping your hips even tighter, making the drag of your clit over his pubic bone even more delicious.

“Feels good, Eddie.”

“Yeah, baby?” he asks through his tightened jaw.

“Mhmm. Close,” you say.

Eddie rocks his hips up into yours, sliding your bundle of nerves against his skin over and over.

“Shit, babe – fuck, I’m coming.”

Eddie finishing had always felt amazing before, even with the barrier of the condom between you. But with nothing separating the two of you, feeling the warmth of his cum as he came inside of you has you gripping onto his skin like a lifeline as you fall over the edge of the cliff into your own orgasm. Bodies moving together as you both ride out your highs, your muscles weaken, and Eddie holds you against his body. The only movement that occurs once you're both spent is the rapid rising and falling of your chests as you try and catch your breaths.

“Wow.” Eddie is the first to break the silence.

“Yeah,” you agree. With a cheeky smile on your face, you turn to rest your chin on Eddie’s chest, looking up at him. “Hey Eds?”

“Mm?” he hums.

“Were you crying?” you ask.

He tilts his head down to meet your eyes, cheeks blooming pink.

“S’your fucking fault,” he mumbles, making you laugh.

“Excuse me?” you ask.

“Pussy’s just that good,” he says with a shrug.

You break into another round of giggles and bury your head in his chest. Eddie presses a kiss to the top of your head. “Best Valentine’s Day ever.”

“I agree.”

The rest of the day is spent holed up in your room. Eddie opens the curtains – once you’re both properly clothed – so you can watch the snow, which has now gathered into a couple inches on the ground. The television has Star Wars playing but neither of you are paying attention to it as you lay with your head in Eddie’s lap, talking and giggling with him in between bites of the chocolate candies he’s feeding you.

You get a pizza delivered for dinner and stay snuggled up in the bed as you eat it, napkins scattered all around so neither of you gets grease on anything. The bathtub isn’t big, but the two of you make it work when you decide to sit in the hot water together – and then maybe make a bit of a mess when you fool around in there. When you get back into the bed, the blankets are soft and inviting as you curl into one another.

By the time Sunday comes around and it’s time to check out, you’re informed by the front desk that no planes will be taking off due to the amount of snow on the ground. They tell you there’s been a state of emergency declared. Since Eddie’s flight is canceled, the hotel comps your room for the night, giving you two the chance to spend even more time together. Eddie’s thrilled as the two of you bound back into the hotel room.

“Work can’t get mad at me because it’s a state of emergency,” Eddie says as he tosses his body onto the bed. He makes grabby hands at you. “And I get more time with my girl.”

As you step up to the bed, Eddie whips a pillow up from behind him and whacks you in the stomach with it. You bend over, laughter bubbling out of you as you take in the shit eating grin on his face.

“Asshole!” You snatch up another pillow and toss it at his head. He grabs you around the middle and pulls you down on top of him, both of you laughing as you wriggle around.

“Good thing we don’t need condoms, or we would’ve run out by now,” Eddie says as he pins you down beneath him. “And who knows how long we’ll be snowed in?”

“Speaking of which,” you say, poking him in the chest. “You should call Wayne and tell him.”

Eddie groans and drops his head forward.

“Well, there goes my boner,” he says, making you giggle.

“I’m sure I can bring it back after you get off the phone,” you assure him. With a sigh, he rolls off of you and grabs the phone. He puts the receiver up to his ear and punches in the number as you stand up from the bed, a mischievous idea getting the better of you.

Eddie sits facing the window, which you take a moment to glance out of before you spin towards him and get down on your knees. Raising his eyebrows at you, Eddie waits for Wayne to answer the phone. And so do you. The moment you hear the older man’s gruff voice coming through the phone, you pop the button on Eddie’s jeans and pull down his fly.

“Uh, hi, Wayne,” Eddie says, eyes widening as he looks down at you. What are you doing? he mouths at you. You hope he isn’t expecting you to answer him, as you feel it’s pretty obvious, as you reach into his boxers and pull his cock free.

“Y-Yeah, I’m here. Um.” Eddie looks up at the ceiling, trying to ignore you. “So, there’s a state of emergency here cause of all the s-snow.”

It’s hard to contain a laugh as you give a few kitten licks to the head and Eddie fists the duvet in his hand.

“Right, exactly. Ah! No, n-no, I’m fine.” Eddie clears his throat, glaring down at you and you start to take him into your mouth.

“No, they’re comping the room.”

Giving a few harsh sucks to the head, you pull off and run your tongue along the vein on the underside of his dick.

“I guess I-I’ll call tomorrow and see-see what’s going on.”

Eddie squeezes his eyes closed and drops his head back, trying to ignore the sinful way your tongue is working over him.

“How is she? Oh, she’s fucking amazing. I mean, I-I mean she’s good.”

You have to pull yourself away and stifle a laugh into your hand before you can get back to teasing him. When you wrap your fingers around him, Eddie doesn’t know if he wants you to stop or not.

“Yeah, I’ll let you know when I-I do. Okay, Wayne. Shit – bye!”

Eddie slams the phone down and you fall back onto the floor, consumed with giggles.

“Oh, you’re in trouble now,” Eddie says as he slides onto the floor next to you. You’re laughing too hard to answer him, so he swings one leg over you and sits on your hips. He pins your hands above your head and raises an eyebrow at you. “Think you’re funny, huh?”

“Yes,” you say between bouts of laughter.

“I don’t know if you’re lucky or not that you’re stuck with me for at least another day,” Eddie says, tilting his head to the side. “Because I think I’m about to tease the hell out of you for hours.”

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