#and yet we see him break down again and again over his past mistakes | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

yazmarina · 3 months ago

Text

in my drafts

for the love circuit series

—that message wasn't for you but paul doesn't mind as long as you don't, either.

paul aron (f2) x gn!social media admin reader

warnings/notes: smut, unprotected sex, lewd photography, office sex, fingering, creampie, accidental nude sending, mild dirty talk

a/n: sorry i disappeared again!!! pls take this as my apology

It was supposed to be just pictures of him during the break. You expected innocent, somewhat average snapshots of how Paul spent his past two months. You knew he took that trip to Italy, attended his sister's graduation, did some training. It was your job to be at least a little updated on the drivers' whereabouts, in case the head of comms needed you to capitalize on it for content.

So when you received a few photos from Paul through iMessage of all his fall whereabouts, you didn't think much of it. You messaged him a few days earlier asking if he could send a few more unreleased pictures that he hadn't posted on his personal account yet, stating that it was for a post you were putting together for the Hitech Instagram. He was delayed in his reply, as usual, but that's something you expected. He was busy, after all.

Perhaps too busy to notice the outlier in the stack of photos displayed in your message thread. Everything seemed to be normal at first; Italian architecture, gym photos, the cheesecake he made. Typical day in the life photos.

And lastly, a photo of him in dim lighting, taken in front of a mirror, with nothing but shadows covering most of his naked body.

You stare at your phone, dumbfounded. Your first instinct is to wait to see if Paul has anything to say, an apology, maybe, or a half-assed excuse. Anything to indicate that he noticed how he sent you a full-on nude. You prepare yourself for the three dots that show he's typing, the frantic scramble to delete the photo from your exchange, but it never comes. Heat rises up your neck as you realize you're going to have to confront him about it. This was, after all, a professional exchange and you'd hate for HR to come knocking at either one of your doors.

-Paul, please review the photos you sent. Thanks.

You regret it as soon as you send it. Was that perhaps too snippy? Too callous? It was as embarrassing for him as it was for you, maybe even more. But come on, how hard is it to distinguish your nudes from your vacation photos?

The loud throb of your heartbeat reverberates in your ears as you wait, cursing under your breath as a full minute passes and then another. You lock your phone, getting up to pace around your room. You're most likely going to see him tomorrow as he'll be at HQ for sim work and other things and you just so happen to have a lineup of meetings at the very same time. You're going to have to face the fact that you'll have to look each other in the eye after you've seen the outline of his dick.

Wonderful.

You unlock your phone, resigning to just delete the photo from your side. You can claim plausible deniability or whatever legal term it is, if it comes down to it.

Just then, Paul starts typing.

You yelp, setting your phone down on the desk harder than intended.

You realize belatedly that you're holding your breath, fingers pressed into your mouth as if suppressing any more potential noises. He stops then starts again then stops, as if he's unsure of what he's typing out.

-I'M SO SORRY!!!! It was an accident I promise 🥹 Don't report me

-Please I'm so sorry it's totally my fault ______ 😭😭😭

-______ please I'm so sorry

Somehow, despite everything, this coaxes a chuckle out of you. Paul was always open and easy around you, and you know he knows you won't report him for an honest mistake. He's probably just red in the face right now, fighting his inner demons.

You type out a reply to ease his nerves.

-I'll just delete it off my phone so no one can say we were fraternizing inappropriately 🥲

The response from Paul is almost instant.

-YES please I'm sorry again

Your finger hovers over the photos when another message comes in.

-Unless you want to save it for a rainy day that's okay too

-I WAS JOKING its a joke I'm sorry I'm sorry

You groan, throwing your head back against the backrest of your office chair.

He's done this on occasion. Flirt. Compliment you on your hair, your outfit (despite it being the team uniform), your smile, even. You brushed it off as typical driver behavior. Nearly all of them had that kind of nerve about them, a confidence that only comes with driving cars that are closer to rockets than actual cars on the street.

Bringing the phone up to your face, you gingerly scroll back up to the photos Paul sent, opening the accursed photo. Your breath hitches as you take it in more carefully, the light cutting sharply between the shadows of whatever hotel room Paul was in. Your eyes trail down and your fingers pinch at the screen, zooming in.

"No! No, no, absolutely not," you admonish yourself, swiping the photo away and typing back a slightly crazed reply.

-Whoever that photo was meant for might not like it if I do

"________!"

You freeze on your way out the door from the conference room, Paul's figure jogging toward you from the other end of the hall. The presence of some execs and the head of comms looms from behind you and you quickly shuffle out of the way to let them pass, all of them greeting Paul as he sidles up to you.

"Hi!" You say a little too brightly, turning to Paul, arms coming up mechanically then stopping, your brain reminding you that a hug might be too awkward but standing around without greeting him in some way would be just as weird. A flurry of butterflies erupt in your stomach as Paul stops in front of you, his cologne coming off strong as always. Just the way you liked it.

"How's the meeting?" Paul asks, gesturing to the room. He's bouncing on the balls of his feet, a nervous habit he has that you've observed over the time you've worked with him. He has his hands shoved deep in his jeans, too.

You shrug, forcing out a laugh. "Same old, just going over social media plans and PR."

Paul nods, a little too eagerly perhaps. His eyes shift to the retreating personnel, all of them turning a corner, leaving you and Paul alone in the vicinity.

"Were you waiting for me?" You ask before he can say anything else.

Paul swallows. "Yeah. Look–"

"Paul," you cut him off, raising a hand between the two of you. "It's okay. It's no big deal. Happens to the best of us."

He raises an eyebrow at that. "Have you ever sent a nude to the wrong person before?"

Your cheeks flare up in a violent blush.

"Well, no. And keep your voice down," you berate lightly. Paul looks around and shrugs as if to say, 'Nobody's here'.

You huff, crossing your arms over your chest. "But what I meant was, like, messages are sent to the wrong people all the time, I'm sure you didn't mean any harm, and besides, no one else knows. I promise I haven't told anyo–"

"Okay." It was Paul's turn to cut you off. "Okay, I believe you."

He smiles at you good-naturedly, opening his arms and coaxing you into a hug. It takes you a second, but eventually, you let yourself laugh in relief, wrapping your arms around his strong frame.

"I missed you over the break," Paul admits, pulling away and holding you at arm's length. You blush again, masking it with a chuckle.

"Well, the break isn't over yet. We still have three weeks to go," you remind, your own hands coming up to settle on Paul's outstretched arms, making it look as if you're holding him in place. To anyone who didn't know, you two would look like a couple deep in discussion.

"At least you get to see me more," Paul offers with an easy smile. nudging you lightly.

You scoff. "I think I've seen enough of you, thank you very much."

A heavy silence settles over the two of you as you realize what you just said. Paul lets his arms drop from where they held you, an apology ready at your lips but Paul gets to it first. He runs a hand through his unkempt hair, blonde strands tugged between his fingers.

"You haven't deleted it, have you?"

No, you haven't.

"I was going to, but I got distracted with other things." Not entirely a lie. You really meant to do so, but thoughts you'd rather not share took hold and there were matters you needed to attend to. Matters that could only be solved with your fingers and a vibrator.

You should feel guilty, getting off to a picture of a coworker that wasn't even meant to be sent to you in the first place. Maybe you're terrible, maybe you should be fired, sued by the Aron family.

Memories of you gasping out Paul's name in the quiet of your room come flooding back and you pray that Paul doesn't notice the irregularity in your breathing.

"I'll delete it now, in front of you, so you can see that I did," you offer, fishing your phone out of your pocket.

Paul shakes his head, catching you by the wrist, his hand large and warm against your own skin.

"I mean if I was going to send it to anyone, it would have been you," Paul says lowly, as if afraid someone would hear him, despite the entire expanse of the hallway void of any people other than yourselves.

"Consensually, of course," Paul adds in a hurry, eyes widening. "If you wanted to receive them. It. Receive it."

Your eyebrows shoot up, your mouth curling into a smirk. "You have more you want to send?"

Paul's lower lip slips between his teeth and it seems the two of you are finally on the same page. You try to suppress the smile threatening to break out, clearing your throat and avoiding his eyes.

"Until when are you staying here?" You ask casually. You didn't mean 'here' as HQ. Here as in, in town, close to you.

"Next week," Paul replies, stepping closer. "I won't see you until Qatar after that."

"Shame," you mutter, tilting your head as you meet his gaze once more.

"Maybe," Paul begins, slipping his hand into yours and twining your fingers together. "I can add one more thing to my break to-do list."

"Now?" You ask incredulously. Paul nods immediately.

"You know that one storage closet inside the sim room?" He asks, winking at you.

"What? Paul!" You whisper-shout, but he's already leading you down the hallway. The two of you make a sharp turn to the right where big blocky letters spell out 'SIMULATOR' on the large double doors of the sim room.

You squint, immediately plunged into darkness as the only source of light inside is the curved screen, dimmed as well as it sits on standby.

"What if your engineer walks in? Your teammate? Doesn't he have a session soon?" You continue to protest, even when Paul gently pushes you toward the storage room door at the very corner. He flings the door open and you see that it's filled mostly with spare sim components and monitors.

"Babe, that's why they call it a quickie," Paul reasons, flipping the light switch on inside. The lightbulb offers little respite in the darkness and shadows still play along the lines of Paul's face. He shuts the door behind him.

"It doesn't lock? Paul, I swear–"

You gasp but barely any sound comes out as Paul presses his lips to yours, hands settling on your hips. He maneuvers you toward a shelf, pushing you against it and pressing himself fully on you.

You can feel how hard he is through his jeans.

"Did you like it?" Paul asks as he breaks away for a second. He kisses your jaw, tracing its outline as you sigh, your head falling back. He takes his opportunity to kiss along the column of your neck, his tongue smoothing over your skin.

"Did you get off to it?" Paul asks again and your breath catches in your throat. It's as if he knew all the dirty, deplorable things you did over that one picture.

"I know you did," Paul concludes with a breathy laugh, reclaiming your lips and driving a knee between your legs. You groan in response, grinding against his thigh while your fingers tug at his belt.

Paul pulls away and takes over for you, undoing his jeans and slipping them down to his knees. You silently thank whatever god is listening for the fact that you so conveniently decided to wear those easy cotton office pants, slipping them off in one quick swoop along with your underwear.

"I'm tempted to get on my knees right now so I can eat you out," Paul teases, hiking your shirt up and exposing your chest.

A snide remark forms in your brain but it's cut off when you feel the cold press of fingers on your clit. You clamp a hand down on your mouth as Paul gently flicks at it, feeling yourself getting wetter by the second.

"Maybe later after work," Paul says, rubbing harder. Your elbow spasms at the sensation, hitting the shelf behind you.

"Ow, fuck," you curse, meeting Paul's eyes. You two burst into muffled laughter just as Paul slips a finger in.

"What happened to a quickie?" You demand, hips moving along with Paul's hand. He adds a second finger and you whine, fingers digging into Paul's shoulders.

"I have manners," Paul informs with an easy smile, face impossibly close to yours. You can see the shift in his bright blue eyes. "I need you wet and ready for me, no?"

You bite down on your lip, eyes rolling into the back of your head as Paul curls his fingers inside you. A shiver runs through you and you feel yourself clenching down and around his digits.

Paul retracts his hand, much to your dismay, but you don't get to complain before Paul kisses you again, rough and heated. His tongue dances against yours and you grip at his Hitech team kit for purchase.

"Bend over," Paul commands and you're more than happy to oblige, turning around to do just that.

You brace yourself against the shelf behind you, gripping at the wood as you lower the front of your body. Paul grabs your hips and your back arches almost automatically. You can feel him pressing up against you and you sneak a peek behind you to see Paul with his phone in hand.

"So I can 'accidentally' send you another one," Paul jests before slowly sinking in. You whine, head dropping down between your shoulders. The thought of him documenting your little tryst sends a shiver up your spine which only intensifies as Paul grabs one side of your hips. He sets up a hard, steady pace that has the shelf in front of you creaking.

"Paul," you gasp out, your whole body shuddering at the force of how hard he's fucking you.

Both of his hands grip at your sides now so you can assume his phone has been put away. You try to stay upright which proves challenging considering Paul is ramming into you ferociously.

Contradictory to it all, you feel the soft touch of fingers through your scalp, smoothing over your hair. In a moment's turn, your head is yanked back as Paul tugs at your hair, arching your back even more.

A garbled sound escapes you, part moan, part sob as the sting in your scalp shoots straight down to your core, pushing you ever so closer to your release.

"The social media person," Paul begins through gritted teeth. "Always so pretty behind the camera. Making me do trend after trend. I'd do anything for you, baby."

You mewl in response, reaching back to grip at Paul's wrist, pushing back against him, urging him to go faster. Paul gets the memo.

"Funny how that photo was taken only because I was about to jack off to the thought of you," Paul continues. "You sent me a message and I was missing that pretty face of yours so I went through your Instagram. Looks like you had fun in Mallorca, tiny swimsuit and all."

"Sorry, baby," Paul says close to your ear. "Couldn't help it."

"Inside," you plead. "P-Please, I'm close. N-Need you to cum inside me."

Paul merely grunts, letting go of your hair so he can pull you flush against him. His thrusts grow erratic, barely pulling out of you each time. He pulls you back to him, your back against his front as he bites down on your shoulder.

"Yes, yes, right there." Your voice comes out raspy, walls squeezing around Paul's throbbing cock. He reaches over and resumes his movements from a while ago on your clit and you yelp, hips spasming pathetically.

You cum with Paul deep inside you, his groans filling your ear as he follows soon after. He stills and pulls you even closer to him, arms encircling your torso. He kisses the spot where he had bitten you, pressing his lips almost reverently to the indented skin.

You're both breathing hard and you're perfectly content to stand around while the two of you gather your bearings. But Paul momentarily disentangles himself from you and reaches down. You see him pull his phone out from his jeans from where they've presumably fallen down to his ankles.

"Smile," Paul prompts, his lips planting a soft kiss behind your ear as he angles the camera toward the two of you.

He snaps a blurry photo, just in time to capture your hand coming up to rest against his cheek as he grins into your skin. Emboldened by the somewhat artsy, flirtatious nature of the photo, you turn around and land a proper kiss on Paul's lips, savoring each second his tongue passes over your mouth.

"Send all the photos you want," you whisper, smiling up at him.

"Or we could just take them together," Paul offers, kissing the tip of your nose.

#f2 x reader #f2 fanfic #f2 smut #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 smut #paul aron x reader #pa17

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slu7formen · 10 months ago

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luke castellan x fem!reader

Luke has been making fun of your ‘unnecessarily absurd beauty routine’ —as he liked to call it— for the past week, so, you decide to drown him in it, just to see how much he can handle.

warnings: just a single use of the word b1tch, fluff at the end <3, little use of yn

reminder: english’s not my first language so I apologize for any spelling mistakes

₊˚⊹♡

i. the eyebrows

“Ow, ow, ow! That hurt!”

“No it didn´t!”

“Yes, it did!”

“Shut up and hold still”

“Ow! You´re pinching my skin, you bitch!”

“That was fully on porpuse”

A chorus of laughter erupted from the nearby bunk beds. Most of the boys, Luke´s half-siblings, gathered around you both, enjoying the show, eyes gleaming with mischief as they witnessed their usually stoic and confident counselor reduced to a whiny mess. Luke´s head was leaning on your thighs as you plugged his eyebrows with some dangerously sharp tweezers.

“See, that´s what you get for making fun of a girl” Travis Stoll, the elder of the Stoll brothers, joined in, a smirk on his lips. "We all warned you about messing with her” he pointed towards you.

“Shut up, Travis!” Luke spat.

You enjoyed the way his face was turning red, from embarrasment and because he was trying so hard to hold back his tears.

“You know, Luke” you started, plugging on another thin hair which earned you a little curse whispered from his lips. “You can always just, give up on the bet”

You found yourself enjoying the sight immensely. The perfect Hermes´ cabin counselor who'd spent the past week mocking your beauty routine,– here he was, sprawled across your lap, a prisoner of your tweezers.

“There´s no way in hell I´m letting you beat me that easily" he declared, though his voice lacked its usual conviction.

You couldn't help but smirk. The bet had been born out of sheer frustration. For the past week, Luke had been relentless in his teasing about your beauty regimen. He'd mocked the meticulous way you cared for your eyebrows, the endless battle against unwanted body hair, the whining about the occasional pimples even when you spent a good twenty minutes locked in the bathroom cleaning your skin. He'd called you high-maintenance, a slave to societal expectations, and everything in between.

Finally, you'd snapped. "Alright, Castellan" you'd declared, eyes blazing. "How about a little bet? If you can handle a full day of 'girl stuff,' I'll clean your cabin for a week"

The look of surprise on Luke's face had been priceless. He'd scoffed, of course, overconfident and utterly clueless about the sheer torture involved in waxing, tweezing, and mud masks. But fueled by his arrogance, he'd readily agreed.

Now, here you were, watching him squirm on your lap like a fish, a testament to his underestimation of the situation. A wave of satisfaction washed over you. It wasn't just about winning the bet, though that was certainly a perk. It was about showing him, in a slightly sadistic way, that there was more to "girl stuff" than he thought. It was about proving that self-care wasn't about vanity, but about feeling confident and comfortable in your own skin.

“As you wish, little baby”

Chris suddenly appeard in your vision, the satisfaction on his face plagged as if he was enjoying this more than you did. “You know, yn” he called out, you momentarily stopped, accidentally giving Luke a break. “Luke has a little hair situation going on under his arms”

“What!?” Luke blurted out. His siblings laughed again.

“He does?” you asked Chris, looking down at Luke and patting his head like a little kid.

“Oh, yeah” Chris smirked. “Maybe that could be the next step, don´t you think?”

“I´m gonna-” Luke tried to get up from his bed, hands reaching out towards Chris. He took a step back just as you grabbed Luke by his shoulders and pushed him down again towards your lap.

“I´m not done with you yet, tough guy. But Chris´ right. Get your hairy armpits ready”

ii. the waxing

You pulled out a box of waxing stripes. Luke, oblivious to the impending torture, was too engrossed in examining his newly sculpted eyebrows in the hand mirror you'd provided. A satisfied smirk played on your lips. The eyebrows looked fantastic – perfectly groomed without being overly feminine. Because yes, he asked you to keep them as close to their natural shape as possible.

“Shirt off” you declared.

His head whipped towards you, eyes wide with horror and disbelief. His half-brothers, mirrored his action, erupting in a chorus of whistles and catcalls.

"Excuse you?" he sputtered, h is voice a touch higher than usual.

"Damn," Connor drawled to you. "at least ask the guy out first"

You rolled your eyes. Luke shot him a withering glare, but beneath the bluster, you could see a flicker of nervousness.

You held up the waxing strips. “It´s time for your armpits, champion” you announced with a playful lilt in your voice. You began rubbing the strips together to warm the wax.

He whined, pulling his camp t-shirt over his head, revealing his well-toned torso, and throwing it over a nearby bunk. You stole a glance at his body for a microsecond, a slight red blush coloring your cheeks. His brothers were quick to start a echo of whistles.

He flopped down heavily on the bed, one arm raised awkwardly above his head. To your surprise, there wasn't as much hair as you'd anticipated. But that didn't diminish the sheer terror radiating from him. You stifled a laugh. "Relax, Luke" you said, your voice gentler now. "The tenser you are, the worse it'll be."

His brothers leaned in closer, their eyes glued to the scene unfolding before them. You carefully pressed the strip against his skin, smoothing it down with the practiced ease. He held his breath, his entire body tensing in anticipation.

You inhaled sharply yourself, then you ripped the strip off in one swift motion. Luke let out a yelp that would have made a banshee proud. His face contorted in pain, and his free hand clenched into a fist. His brothers erupted in laughter, their amusement fueled by his pain.

"Alright, alright" you said, trying to sound sympathetic despite the laughter bubbling in your throat. "Deep breaths, Luke. If you don´t relax, it´s gonna hurt more"

He glared at you, his voice laced with a hint of betrayal. "Easy for you to say."

Ignoring his grumbling, you ripped off another strip. A chorus of gasps filled the room, and Luke let out another yelp, his face turning an even deeper shade of red.

"See?" you said, holding up the strip adorned with a few stray hairs. "Not so bad, right?"

He wanted to murder you.

"Don't you use anesthesia for this?" he wheezed after a particularly harsh pull on his other armpit, his eyes watering slightly.

“We´re not babies, Luke” you replied, shaking your head. "Just good old-fashioned grit and determination. Besides, you wouldn't want to miss out on the full 'girl stuff' experience, would you?"

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity —at least for Luke—, you finished. His armpits were as smooth as a baby´s butt. His brothers, unable to resist themselves, reached out and slapped the freshly waxed skin, earning them a swift kick each from a now-furious Luke.

iii. the skincare

"Skincare? Seriously?" Luke asked, sitting down on your bed, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

You all went to your cabin to continue his so claimed ‘girl´s day´. You would´ve paid to take a picture of your sisters´ faces when they saw you walk in with a bunch of boys following you behind.

“Just lay down, princess” you declared “I´ll bring my stuff”

He leaned back against the your pushy pillows, getting comfortable.

“First time on a girl´s bed?” Chris asked, earning a few laughs from his siblings.

“Shut up” Luke spat.

You came back with your washbag, full of different products that nearly gave Luke a heart attack. You had to assure him that this time, this wasn´t gonna hurt. At least not the first part, but you kept it a secret.

"Alright, beautiful” you teased. “Let’s get started. First thing’s first. “Cleansing”

You dipped a soft washcloth in warm water and began gently wiping away the dirt and sweat from his face. Luke closed his eyes, a look of unexpected serenity washing over his features. You noticed him get loose under your touch, a slight smile playing on his lips, and crossed his arms over his chest in a gesture of surprising compliance.

“Wow” he said. “This is actually quite nice”

"See?" you said softly. "This isn't so bad"

He opened one eye, a playful glint mirroring your own. "Not bad at all" he admitted, a hint of amusement in his voice “Guys, you should try this."

The Hermes´ cabin boys leaned in closer, their usual boisterousness replaced by a quiet attentiveness. They watched as your fingers moved with a practiced ease, cleansing Luke's skin with a tenderness they hadn't seen before. They saw you take some cleanser, and rub it softly against Luke´s skin.

They all exchanged glances, a new kind of curiosity flickering in their eyes. Usually, the sight of anyone touching Luke, let alone his face, would have elicited a barrage of teasing. But seeing you, your movements gentle and practiced as you gathered a gentle cleanser, they found themselves strangely mesmerized.

"Well, he looks chill" Connor added. "Could you clean my face sometime, yn?"

You chuckled, throwing a playful glance thorwn at him. "Maybe later, Connor. Right now, it's all about Luke's glow-up."

Next came the toner, followed by a light moisturizer. Luke remained surprisingly still, his eyes closed, a contented sigh escaping his lips from time to time. His brothers, bored by the lack of drama, started to get bored.

Just as you were about to get some eye patchs, your eyes drifted on a little tool inside your washbag; your blackhead remover. An idea came up to you.

"Alright, Luke" you announced, a hint of warning in your voice. "Time for the fun part."

You reached for a steaming hot towel and pressed it gently against his nose and forehead. He inhaled deeply, the steam opening up his pores.

"This feels so nice" he mumbled, his voice muffled by the towel.

A slow grin spread across your face. "Oh, it gets better" you said, an evil spark in your eyes.

You grabbed the blackhead extractor and, with practiced ease, began gently removing the unwanted blemishes.

Suddenly, Luke's eyes flew open, a look of pure horror replacing his previous serenity. "Wait! What are you doing?" he shrieked.

"Shh" you hushed him playfully. "Relax. These little guys gotta go. Trust me, it'll be better for your skin in the long run."

"But it hurts!" he whined, swatting your hand away with a surprisingly weak attempt.

"Just a little pinch" you reassured him, your voice a mockery he hated. "Besides, if you don't remove them now, they'll grow bigger and poppier, and that will hurt even more."

Luke opened his mouth to protest, but the words died on his lips as you expertly extracted another blackhead. This bet was getting a little harder to beat than expected. He winced slightly, then a defeated sigh escaped his lips.

“So, Connor” you called. “You wanted to be next, right?”

iv. make up

"So," you began, a sly smile playing on your lips as you settled into the chair across from Luke, "you think makeup is easy, right?"

"Shouldn't be that hard, I guess" he mumbled, trying to sound confident. Inside, however, his stomach churned with fear and worry.

You gestured towards your desk, which was now overflowing with an array of colorful tubes, palettes, and brushes – an arsenal of beauty products foreign to the boys' eyes. "Alright then," you declared, a playful lilt in your voice. "Here's a little game. I'll show you each product and you have to guess what it's for. Every one you get wrong? Goes on your face."

Luke's eyes widened in horror.

"Wait, what?" he sputtered, a nervous tremor in his voice. "You can't be serious!"

You raised an eyebrow, feigning innocence. "But Luke, you just said makeup was easy. This is your chance to prove it!"

"This is cheating" he mumbled, looking betrayed. "You never mentioned makeup in the bet!"

"Technically," you countered, holding up a finger, "it's still 'girl stuff’, as you call it”

A groan escaped Luke's lips. He shot a desperate glance towards his brothers, hoping for some kind of intervention. Charles Beckendorf, who allegedly decided to join the fun, just grinned towards him.

"Don't chicken out now, Luke" he said, arms crossed over his chest. "You can always give up on the bet and let her win”

Luke glared at his friend, silently cursing the day he ever agreed to this ridiculous wager. He sighed dramatically, slumping back on the bed. "Fine" he mumbled, defeated. "At least try your best to make me look decent."

“That´s not gonna be on me, dear”

You couldn't help but laugh at his misery. You reached across the desk, picking up a sleek black tube with a silver cap. It felt cool and smooth in your hand.

"What do you think this is?" you asked, holding it up for him to see.

Luke squinted at the tube, his brow furrowed in concentration. He recalled seeing something similar in movies, actresses applying it with a flick of their wrist. An idea flickered in his mind.

"Eyeliner?" he ventured, his voice laced with a hint of uncertainty.

You arched an eyebrow, feigning surprise. "Huh, correct”

You set the eyeliner aside, a mischievous glint returning to your eyes. Next up, you picked up a thin, wooden-looking tool with a pointed tip. There was a small, round piece of what looked like colored chalk attached to the end.

"Alright," you announced, "round two. What is this?"

Luke studied the object carefully. It did resemble a pencil, but the colored tip threw him off. He wracked his brain, trying to recall anything similar he'd seen in the vast array of makeup products on your desk.

"Uh… a pencil?" he finally ventured, his voice lacking conviction.

You burst into laughter, the sound echoing through the cabin. Tears welled up in your eyes quickly, blurring your vision slightly.

"A pencil, Luke?" you wheezed, wiping a tear from your cheek. "It’s a lip liner"

Luke's cheeks flushed crimson.

"Lip liner?" he echoed, his voice barely a whisper. "For what? Do I need to draw on a bigger mouth?" He gestured to his own lips, a hint of self-consciousness creeping into his voice.

You shook your head, stifling another giggle. "No, no need for a bigger mouth. Lip liner helps define the shape of your lips."

With a shake of your head, you said, "Now the fun part begins. Bring those lips here, handsome."

Luke leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, his face hovering a few inches from yours. The air got filled with a strange tension, probably because his brothers walked closer so they could get a better look. His breath hitched slightly as your fingers brushed against his skin, sending a shiver down his spine.

“You´re lucky this is the same shade as your natural lip color” you whisper.

“Yeah” Chris adds. “Maybe you should wear it more often, handsome” he reaches out his hand to squeeze Luke´s cheeks, but he´s quick enough to slap his hand away.

“Shut up”

The minutes that followed were filled with a more lighthearted energy. You continued the game, Luke surprisingly getting a few things right – foundation, and even a surprisingly good guess on a shimmery eyeshadow palette.

But he wasn't without his misses. The concealer, a light, creamy formula designed to camouflage blemishes, ended up being applied liberally under his eyes, leaving him with a ghostly pallor that had his brothers doubled over in laughter. Then came the blush. A delicate peach shade, turned his cheeks a comical shade of fuchsia thanks to your deliberately exaggerated application with a fluffy brush.

His brothers, fueled by this new display of comedic gold, howled with laughter. Charles, wiping tears from his eyes, wheezed, “He-, he looks like a baboon in heat”

"Oh man" Travis howled, clutching his stomach. "This is even better than the armpit wax"

Next came the eyelash curler, that strange-looking contraption that promised to create dramatic, fluttery lashes. The moment you held it up, Luke's eyes widened in suspicion. He snatched it from your hand before you could ask him what he though it was.

"What the hell is this!?" he exclaimed, his voice laced with a mixture of disgust and fear. "You girls like torturing yourselves with these things?"

You reached out and gently took the curler back. "No torture involved" you replied. “And since you know absolutely nothing about it…"

He tried to look defiant, but a flicker of uncertainty betrayed him. "I know what it is" he mumbled, avoiding your gaze.

"Oh really?" you challenged, raising an eyebrow. "Then what is it?"

You handed him the curler and watched as he fumbled with it, his big hands clearly not designed for such delicate work. He eventually gave up with a defeated sigh.

"Okay" he grumbled, handing the curler back to you. "Do your worst."

The final touches were a disaster, a glorious, hilarious disaster. Every fiber of Luke's being screamed in protest as you handed the brushes over to his merciless brothers.

“Come here, Lookie-Pookie” Travis cooed, his voice dripping with mock sweetness as he leaned in with a thick brush loaded with sparkly eyeshadow. Luke recoiled, swatting his hand away with a glare.

"Don't touch me!”

“Come on Luke, give us those pretty little lips. We need to make sure they're nice and kissable” Beckendorf joined, opening a little lip product tube he wasn´t sure what it really was.

Luke wanted to melt into the floor, his face burning hotter than the volcanic eyeshadow now smudged across his eyelids. The audacity, the betrayal! His own brothers, the supposed bastions of masculinity, were gleefully participating in this humiliation.

“Maybe some of this highlighter will make him look prettier”

He couldn´t believe his own brothers knew what highlighter was except for him.

As he looked at his reflection in the mirror, a mix of horror and amusement washed over him. He never thought he'd feel so violated by makeup. But somewhere amidst the frustration and embarrassment, a strange sense of camaraderie bubbled up. His brothers, usually his biggest tormentors, were doubled over with laughter, tears streaming down their faces. And you, the leader of this whole mess, were practically glowing with barely suppressed mirth.

Despite himself, a smile tugged at the corner of Luke's lips. Maybe this wasn't so bad after all. Sure, he looked like a technicolor disaster, but the shared laughter, the fun, it felt strangely… good. He glanced at you, your eyes sparkling with amusement.

"Gods” he breathed, shaking his head in mock disbelief. "This is the best day of your life, isn't it?"

You couldn't help but laugh, a genuine, unrestrained laugh that filled the cabin. "Hell yeah it is" you replied as you offer him make up wipes.

v. the reconcile

Night had fallen, painting the sky with shimmering stars. The campfire illuminated the campers´ face, its flames dancing higher as the Apollo cabin filled the air with joyful camp songs. Laughter mingled with the strumming of guitars and lyres, creating a symphony of pure summer camp bliss.

The fire itself danced in response to the campers' emotions. It roared a little higher with every burst of laughter, dimmed momentarily during a quiet story, and flickered with a playful intensity as the Hermes boys, fueled by their mischievous exploits, recounted their version of the day's events.

You sat by the fire, poking a marshmallow with a stick, watching the scene unfold. Their narrative, of course, focused heavily on your supposed "torture" of Luke. Specially the Stoll brothers; they painted a picture of you as a ruthless makeup artist, a waxer who pealed Luke´s skin off and left his face shining like marble. Meanwhile, Luke simply sat there, a faint smile playing on his lips.

You noticed the Hermes boys regaling other campers with their story, punctuated by bursts of laughter. And yes, you didn´t like to admit it but, you'd lost the bet. Technically. But watching Luke handle their teasing with surprising grace, a hint of amusement in his eyes, filled you with a strange satisfaction.

You were there by yourself for a few more minutes. The camp sounds filling your ears as you tried your best not to stuff your face in all the toasted marshmallows your sisters offered you. Your hands felt tired, because yes, even though what you did was not too much for you to handle, Luke squirmed and behaved like a worm covered in salt, which only made your work harder.

Just then, a figure settled in front of you. Luke. He held two sticks, each crowned with a perfectly toasted marshmallow. He offered one to you, his usual smirk replaced by a genuine smile.

"Truce?" he asked, his voice laced with a playful challenge.

You couldn't help but grin, accepting the marshmallow with a playful jab. "Truce"

He sat beside you, the marshmallow on his stick disappearing in one swift, hungry bite. Suddenly, you leaned in closer, feigning seriousness. "Oh dear" you said, your voice laced with mock concern.

Luke raised an eyebrow, a playful smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "What is it now?"

"You've got a blackhead. Right, there" you declared, pointing to a non-existent imperfection on his nose.

His eyes widened in mock horror. "No way! I´m not letting you touch my face again" He swatted at your hand playfully, but you were quicker.

"Hold still, you wriggly worm" you teased, pretending to grab his nose. A playful fight ensued, a flurry of limbs and laughter. You managed to land a swipe at his cheek with a gooey bit of marshmallow.

Finally, breathless with laughter, you both settled back down, enjoying the warmth of the fire and the quiet camaraderie. As you bit into your marshmallow, a comfortable silence settled between you.

"So, about that bet" he began, wiping his marshmallow-streaked hands on his cargo pants.

You turned to look at him, still chewing on another marshmallow and a piece of melted chocolate. "Yeah?"

"I don't want you to clean my cabin" he explained.

"Why not? I lost the bet" you replied, surprised by his sudden declaration.

He looked at the sky, a hint of pink dusting his cheeks. "Yeah, but… We're kind of a mess, actually. I would feel bad if you did it alone."

"Aww, Castellan, are you worried about little ol' me?" you teased him, squeezing his cheek playfully. He blushed a deeper shade of red, looking positively flustered.

"Maybe" he mumbled, avoiding your gaze.

"Okay, here's a deal" you continued, trying to cover your own blush. "I'll clean your cabin, but you have to help me. I really don't wanna get into dirty-underwear-business."

Luke considered this for a moment, then a grin spread across his face. "Deal. But I'm warning you, there might be some things you shouldn´t even try to touch with bare hands. And I mean Travis´ and Connor´s bunks”

From a distance, a group of campers — a mix of Hermes, Apollo, and Hephaestus cabins —watched your exchange with keen interest. The playful teasing, the way your hands brushed as you made your deal — it was all too much for their already overactive imaginations.

"I bet you fifteen bucks he's gonna ask her out by the end of the week" an Apollo camper, Lee, declared.

Chris snorted. "That's weak. Twenty bucks says he does it tonight."

hiiya, just thought I could write something different to what I usually do. hope you enjoyed <3 🩷

#luke castellan x reader #luke castellan #pjo series #pjo #luke castellan x you #luke x reader #luke castellan one shot #luke castellan fic #luke castellan imagine #pjo x reader #pjo x you #luke castellan x female reader #luke castellan x fem!reader #luke castellan x y/n #luke castellan imagines #luke castellan x yn

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postm0rt3m · 2 months ago

Text

happy thanksgiving everyone!

just a lil fluff thanksgiving bf!simon post bcz i just sobbed my heart out over the most absolutely devastatingly beautiful angst story i’ve ever read (through statics, give it a read!) and if i keep thinking about it i’m going to actually spiral

not proofread so :P

(i said this then made myself cry again writing this bffr. this also ended up way longer than i meant for it to so lol!)

“simon?”

“…baby?”

“simon theodore! are you even listening to-“

simon suddenly snaps back out of his thoughts at the stern tone in your voice, letting out a small grunt as if saying “yes i was” but in reality.. he wasn’t. he was too far gone in his absolutely harrowing thoughts, because today is the day.

the day he’s having thanksgiving dinner with your family. i repeat, simon “ghost” riley is currently on his way to eat turkey and stuffing and pumpkin pie with his girlfriend’s family. sound the alarms!

don’t get me wrong, he’s met some of your family before. your parents, your siblings. but.. your entire family is going to be here. moms side, dads side, aunts, uncles, grandparents, cousins. oh god.

this man has been through war and back. literally. yet, he feels as anxious as he did the first day he joined the army, just thinking about the events that are about to go down. he’s literally trembling. terrified to lift his hands from the death grip he has on the steering wheel because he knows you’ll get that same teasing sympathetic look on your face as you always do.

he finally clears his throat, breaking his deadpan stare out the windshield to glance over at you for a moment, which brings him a little comfort. just the sight of you, really, could relax every tense muscle in his body.

“yeah, yeah, ‘m listenin’. said sumn about.. ham..?”

you look over when you feel his gaze on his, that same smile he was just trying to prevent spreading across your face. holding back a laugh from the random mention of ham, you place your left hand on his meaty thigh, giving it a soft squeeze.

“…no. are you okay? i promise they’re gonna love you, si. seriously.”

you know, of course, about your boyfriend’s past. his alcoholic of a father, the absence of his mother, the way he buried himself with work and an early grave in an attempt to forget it all. every time you think about it, your heart squeezes. because his pain is your pain, and it hurts you so deeply its as if it happened to you. plus, your man doesn’t deserve all that weight on his shoulders!

so, you’re kind. loving. forgiving. you never hold his mistakes over his head, knowing it happened so many times in his childhood. you’ve been together not even a year, yet, you know. you know he’s the one that you’ll marry, the one who’s children you’ll have running around your big white suburban house. and he knows it too. which is why he agreed to this!

he gives another grunt after he mulls over your question, because, really, is he okay? he’s not sure himself, at this point.

“i.. ‘m fine. lets just get this over with.”

—

once you actually arrive, you’re.. not sure if simon is still breathing in his seat. neither is he. his hands are still placed firmly on the steering wheel and his feet on the pedals, even though he already turned the car off. five minutes ago.

“baby. take a deep breath in,”

you begin, your smile falling as you realize he’s actually terrified. this is probably the first thanksgiving dinner he’s ever been to. and with his future family? he just wants the world to open up and swallow him whole already.

but, he obliges, taking a sharp inhale in, holding it, then letting it out when you say. it actually does relax his muscles a little, but not his nerves. no, they’re so far gone he thinks they won’t be relaxed for the next five years.

“then out. you’re okay. everything will be okay. i promise, they’ll love you. worst case scenario, we leave and get chinese.”

he looks over at you, his gaze still as intense as ever, but you can see the utter fear and nerves swirling around behind his brown eyes. you let out a small sigh, leaning over the center console to place a soft kiss on his stubbly cheek.

“lets go in. we can come back out if its too much, okay?”

he nods, swallowing so hard he thinks he might’ve swallowed his own tongue. his grip on the steering wheel finally releases as he exits the car, the crisp november air instantly hitting his face and the white t-shirt & blue jeans that took him two hours to pick out.

he rounds the front of the black pickup truck, opening your door and taking your hand as you slide down out of the passenger seat.

as you two walk up to the front door of your mother and father’s home, his grip on your hand tightens more and more with each step. you place another reassuring peck on his arm, which loosens it just a little. just a little.

you make it to the front door, and oh my god simon thinks he’s going to pass out. he’s trying to keep it together, but staring through the foggy glass of the door, seeing the bustling of your family inside, he thinks he might hurl.

“oh — you must be the famous simon we hear so much about! her mom never shuts up about you!”

one of your aunts opens the door, a beaming smile spread across her face as she sees you, then cranes her neck up to look at your brute of a boyfriend. you can see the shock on her face for a split second, although she doesn’t dwell on it. but simon does.

why did she look at me like that? do i have something on my face? bloody hell, i’m gonna throw up everywhere and she’s gonna leave me and-

you cut simon out of his thoughts with a reassuring squeeze to his hand, glancing from him to your aunt. she reaches her hand out, and simon hesitantly meets it, giving it a gentle yet firm shake.

“we’re glad to be here! simon is excited to meet everyone, right, love?”

“yeah. can’t wait.”

you two make your way through the lively house, and simon can’t help but think about how.. domestic it all is.

your siblings and cousins all running around, playing together and weaving in and out of the various rooms. your mom, aunts, and grandmothers gathered in the kitchen, preparing the food and gossiping about their respective partners. your dad, uncles and grandpas laughing heartily over beers and nachos as they watch the ongoing baseball game on the tv.

its something simon has never had the pleasure of experiencing in real life, and something he never thought he’d get to experience.. ever. the reality hits him, so much harder than he’d thought.

that.. this is his life. this is his family. not those people who abandoned him all those years ago. you’re his family. and the thought warms his chest in a way not even you could.

the day flies by, so much faster than simon thought it would. he got to meet everyone, speak with everyone. he even had a beer with your dad. although this may be completely new to him, it instantly felt familiar. felt right. the stability and domesticity he’s craved for so long, and he’s finally got it.

he was nervous the whole time, of course. he still is. but having you there made it all melt all way after a few hours. he stayed by your side the entire time, not wanting to leave you alone, but also not wanting to be alone himself. your reassuring squeezes, your loving pecks to his cheek or arm, they kept him grounded. and he will never be able to re-pay you for such a feat.

when it comes time to eat, everyone is crowded around the living room with heaping plates in hands. your cousins are sprawled on the floor, uncles and aunts sitting in random camping chairs they brought knowing there wouldn’t be enough space for everyone.

simon can’t wait to eat. the fragrant turkey and gravy sitting in his lap, he thinks he will simply die if he doesn’t dig in.

but, one of your aunts mentioned saying grace. something simon doesn’t think he’s done a single time in his life.

everyones heads bow, hands connecting around the room, simon holding yours in his left and your sibling’s in his right as you all squeeze together on the couch.

your mother begins her prayer, giving her thanks for the people, the food, and the house they’re so lucky to be blessed with. simon finds it a little silly as a firm non-believer of any type of religion, but it also squeezes at his heart, because they truly are blessed. he’s blessed.

then, she mentions him.

“and thank you, for bringing such a handsome man into my daughter’s life. we hope for a long, healthy life for the two of them, and hope he doesn’t mind his new crazy family.”

his new crazy family.

you peek your eyes open with the widest grin, glancing over to see if simon is as flushed as you think he is.

but he’s not.

he’s crying.

you can feel his hand slightly trembling, his eyes still clamped shut as the tears roll down his face and his lip pouts out just the slightest. your smile instantly falls, your hand still connected with his as you raise them to wipe at his tears.

you try to be discreet, not wanting to draw any unwanted attention to as you dry his eyes with your sleeve. you can feel your heart doing flips, the fact that he’s so touched that he’s crying making you want to cry yourself.

after they say amen, everyone instantly digs into their plates. except the two of you.

you can’t take your eyes off of simon, and he can’t take his reddened eyes off of you. here, in this moment, you both realize something.

everything you two’ve been through. the lows, the sleepless nights. the highs, nights out on the town until ungodly hours. has lead to this. this connection, this moment.

and, god, neither of you could ask for more. he truly can’t wait to put a ring on your finger.

after a few moments of silent conversation you give him a small smile, and the two of you tune back into the world, digging into your plates and enjoying the presence of your family and each other.

this is his family now. and just like he couldn’t ask for more from you, he couldn’t ask anymore from them. he loves them just as much as he does you.

a few hours later, everyone begins leaving and heading home. thanksgiving is officially over for your household.

you can barely drag simon away from the kitchen, who is stacking a plate the size of his own head with the various dishes strewn across the counter. your mother was absolutely delighted at the fact that he kept going back, for seconds, thirds, then fourths. and now he’s taking the remaining leftovers.

you two make it back out to the truck, him helping you in before the both of you settle in and fasten your seatbelts.

but he doesn’t yet start it. he looks over at you, a content sigh escaping his lips and a smile so warm across his face you think you could melt.

“i love you.”

he simply says, the usual monotone stance in his voice replaced with something else. something warm and sweet, like the soft piece of pumpkin pie in the plate in your lap, neatly covered by a layer of tin foil.

“i love you too, simon. i told you they’d love you.”

you respond, the smile on your own face giddy and almost sickly sweet as you think about everything that just happened, and everything that will happen.

its a little hard for simon to make sense of all these new emotions and flooding feelings as you two make the long drive back home. but one thing he does know, he’s thankful.

thankful for you, thankful for the 5 inch tall plate of food in the backseat, and thankful for your family.

for his family.

#mortem posts ✮⋆˙#simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #cod #ghost cod #simon riley #simon ghost x reader #call of duty #simon riley x you #cod modern warfare #simon ghost riley x you #simon riley imagine #simon ghost riley x reader

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luci-in-trenchcoats · 4 months ago

Text

Liar, Liar

Summary: When the reader catches Dean in a big lie, she questions what the hell is going with her husband...

Pairing: Dean x reader

Word Count: 2,100ish

Warnings: language, lying/angst, eventual fluff

A/N: Enjoy!

_________

“Sweetheart,” said Dean, standing over a frying pan, not glancing up when you wandered into the kitchen. “Dinner’s not ready yet.”

“I have writer’s block again,” you said, slumping into one of the barstools, resting your head on your arms.

“Quit for the day. You’re past working time anyways,” he said, holding up a spice shaker and sprinkling some in the pan.

“I wrote like half a page all day and it’s crap,” you said. “I think I’m all out of good ideas.”

“You better not be. I like being a trophy husband,” he teased.

“You are far from a trophy husband,” you said, lifting your head up, resting it in the palm of your hand. “You’re too smart for that.”

“Oh, I know it,” he said with a smirk. “I’m a genius, aren’t I?”

“Don’t push it, Einstein,” you said, Dean chuckling as he stirred the meat around. “Maybe I should quit and go back to an office job?”

“No way,” said Dean. “You were miserable.”

“I’m miserable now,” you said, Dean chuckling again.

“You’re in a rough patch,” said Dean. “Plus now, you get to wear sweatpants all the time.”

“Sweatpants are pretty great,” you said, Dean humming in agreement. “But I think I really might be out of ideas Dean.”

“You need a vacation,” he said. “Recharge yourself.”

“But you have work this week,” you said, Dean shrugging. “I don’t deserve a vacation.”

“Have a Staycation then. Just don’t go in your office. It’s not like you need to request time off from the boss,” he said, carrying the pan over to a few plates. “Take a week off. I’m sure the ideas will come back.”

“Can I go to work with you?” you asked.

“With me? Why?” he asked, dishing up the food, letting it cool off to the side.

“Your job is interesting,” you said.

“I’m a tax lawyer. Yes, my life is just riveting,” he said.

“Maybe I need to write a story about a tax lawyer. Maybe a thriller or a murder,” you said.

“No,” he said, pushing a plate in front of you.

“Please? Like one hour on your lunch break?” You asked, Dean’s face scrunching up.

“I said no,” he said, grumpily taking a seat beside you, stabbing into his dinner.

“Alright. Sorry I asked.”

You waved Dean goodbye the next morning, watching him pull out of the driveway and down the street. You tried to take his advice and ignore your office, settling for watching TV instead but by eleven you were already antsy.

You decided to surprise him at work, bring him in a nice lunch with his favorite sandwich. You’d driven by the building his office was in before but the place was huge and you were more than a little lost when you got to the reception area.

“Hi, is Golden and Bash law firm on this side of the building or the other?” you asked, the receptionist pointing you down a hall and through a pair of double doors.

The lobby was quite grand and you had to hide your laugh that your Dean worked in a place like this.

“Can I help you?” asked the woman behind the desk.

“Yeah, I’m here to see my husband. I brought him lunch,” you said, the woman offering a smile.

“I’m sure he’ll appreciate that. What’s his name? I can call him up to the desk,” she said.

“Winchester,” you said.

“I didn’t know little Sam was married,” she said, standing up with a wave. “He’s right-“

“Sorry, I meant Dean Winchester,” you said with a wince. “Sam’s my brother in law.”

“Miss we only have one Winchester in employment here. Sam Winchester. He started on Monday,” she said.

“That’s some kind of mistake,” you said, the receptionist looking back at her computer.

“No, it’s not,” she said, your head shaking.

“Can you take me to Sam? I need to speak to him. Now,” you said. She didn’t say another word as you followed her back to a small office, boxes all around.

“Y/N? What are you doing here?” asked Sam. “Is something wrong?”

“Dean said he worked here,” you said quietly.

“What? No way. I just got this job and he definitely isn’t here,” said Sam. “He’s at Greenwich, isn’t he?”

“No. He said he got a new one here a month ago,” you said, narrowing your eyes.

“He definitely doesn’t work here, Y/N,” said Sam.

“Then where has my husband been going all day, Sam? I know he gets a paycheck, insurance...what the hell is going on?”

“I don’t know,” said Sam. “I have to finish up a couple things here but I’ll be over the house in an hour.”

“Thanks,” you said, tossing the sandwich in the trash. By the time you got home, the Impala was in the driveway, Dean wearing a big smile in the kitchen.

“Hey! I decided to come home for lunch,” said Dean, holding up a pair of wraps he must have picked up along the way.

“Really,” you said, Dean nodding his head.

“Super busy morning down there. Had to get out of there and see a friendly face,” he said.

“Busy at the firm?” You forced a fake smile, your blood boiling as he hummed.

“Oh yeah. You know how busy tax time of year is. Everyone freaking out,” said Dean.

“That’s interesting,” you said.

“What is?” asked Dean.

“Your super busy morning at the law firm...considering you don’t work at the law firm,” you growled. You saw Dean about to shake it off but he took one look at your face and knew he was screwed.

“How long have you known?” he asked quietly.

“Oh I have plenty of questions and I think-“

“How long?” asked Dean, your eyebrows raising.

“About twenty minutes. Now how about-“

“Does anyone else know?” he asked.

“Sam. Now-“

“I’m not a tax lawyer,” he said with a sigh, setting his wrap down on the plate. You scoffed, crossing your arms.

“No shit,” you said.

“I can’t tell you what I am,” said Dean. You cocked your head, Dean’s jaw clenching.

“Why the hell not?”

“It’ll…scare you.”

“Try me,” you said, getting in his face, Dean taking a deep breath.

“I’m a professor,” he said. You shook your head, holding up your hands.

“Okay? Why is that such a big secret?” you asked. Dean looked away, grimacing.

“At a…private school,” he said.

“Still not understanding the secret part,” you said.

“It’s a unique school,” said Dean.

“Is it fucking Hogwarts?” You scoffed. “Tell me the truth.”

“It’s called Hunters,” said Dean. You grit your teeth.

“You are this close to me walking out-“

“You want a divorce? Fine. Divorce me,” he said. You grabbed his shoulders, Dean’s gaze turning harsh.

“Dean, talk to me,” you said. “What’s wrong?”

“I’ve said all I can,” he said.

“You being a teacher doesn’t scare me so what exactly is it you do at this school,” you said.

“You will never ask me about it again,” he said.

“Tell me the truth!”

“Hey,” said Sam, walking in through the front door, both your heads turning towards him. “I took care of the secretary.”

“Good,” said Dean, Sam barely looking at you.

“You killed-“

“No, he didn’t kill her,” said Dean with a sigh. “Just made her forget. Just like how you’re going to forget real soon.”

“Dean,” said Sam. “We can’t keep doing this every time you slip up.”

“I’m not telling her,” said Dean, grabbing your arm, pulling you over to the couch. “Just help me with this.”

“Dean, I don’t really think we’re solving the problem here,” said Sam, Dean forcing you to sit down.

“Thirty minutes of her life gone, she’ll think she took a nap,” said Dean, swallowing hard when you stared up at him. “I’m sorry, sweetheart.”

“Do I even know you at all?” you asked, Sam crossing his arms off to the side. “Who are you?”

“Dean, just tell her,” said Sam. “I’m tired of hiding this.”

“I am not telling her all that crap,” said Dean. “I’m not gonna lose her over this.”

“You’re losing me already,” you said, Dean rubbing the back of his neck. “Tell me the truth.”

“I can’t!” said Dean, stepping away. “I have to protect you.”

“Tell me,” you growled.

“Sam, give it to me,” said Dean, holding out a hand.

“I didn’t bring it,” said Sam.

“You what?” asked Dean, eyes blinking rapidly.

“Didn’t bring it. I’m tired of making her forget. She’s your wife. Stop lying to her,” said Sam.

“Sammy, considering I’m the one that volunteered for this, you don’t get a say,” said Dean.

“I didn’t ask you to do that!” said Sam.

“I know. But I have to live with it so I get to choose how,” said Dean.

“What about Y/N’s choice? Does she not get one of those?” asked Sam.

“Apparently not,” you said, Dean running his hands over his face. “You know what. Forget it. If you don’t trust me enough to tell me whatever this is, fine. Don’t expect me to be here when you get home from your fake job.”

“Y/N,” said Dean, catching your arm when you stood up. “I trust you. I need you to trust me right now. I am not doing this to hurt you. The exact opposite really.”

“Then trust me that I can handle whatever this is,” you said.

“I can’t take it back after this. You’ll know and if you leave, I won’t make you forget again. I can’t if I know that’s how you really feel,” he said.

“Dean, trust me,” you said. He closed his eyes.

“I teach at a special school...our grandparents taught there and people before them. Someone from the family line always has to teach there after a certain age...once they have experience,” said Dean.

“Experience in what,” you said, Dean barely meeting your eye.

“Hunting…monsters,” mumbled Dean.

“You hunt monsters,” you said.

“Hunted. I haven’t been in five years. Not since I started teaching,” said Dean. “That’s right around when I met you.”

“Is that why you keep a shotgun full of salt under the bed?” you asked.

“Yeah,” he said.

“And the symbols on the subfloor when we put in the new hardwoods you said were just scratches,” you said, Dean nodding his head. “And the matching tattoo of yours you convinced me to get on my hip?”

“It means a demon can’t possess you,” said Dean. “I know, I’m nuts.”

“I think you were a dumbass for being scared to tell me but not nuts,” you said, Dean’s head snapping up. “You read my first book. The horror one that sold like two copies? Yeah, that might have happened to my dad for reals. At first I thought it was a scary story but he told me to be careful out in the world. So vampires are real, huh?”

“Yeah. A whole bunch of other stuff too,” said Dean quietly.

“Told you so,” said Sam, Dean ripping a pillow off the couch and chucking it at him. “If you’re not going to kill each other, I have to get back to work.”

“Are you really a lawyer?” you asked.

“Yeah. Dean kept me out of the family business so I wouldn’t have to deal with that stuff,” said Sam. “I’ll catch up with guys later.”

“So…” said Dean when it was just the two of you. “Are you still going to divorce me?”

“How many times did you make me forget?” you asked.

“Twice. I never gave you a chance to talk really before, just sort of did it as soon as you knew I lied,” he said. You pinched the bridge of your nose and sighed. “You’re going to leave, aren’t you.”

“I would not advise lying to me again,” you said. “Or making me forget. Understand?”

“Yes,” he said. “You hate me though. For lying.”

“If I didn’t know you so well, I might. But I also know your head is twisted up with stuff I never pushed but hoped you knew you could come to me with. You beat yourself up enough. I don’t hate you. Be honest with me is all I ask,” you said.

“Okay,” said Dean, pausing a beat. “What do you want to know?”

_________

#supernatural #spn #dean x reader #dean winchester x reader #supernatural fanfiction #spn fanfiction #dean x you #dean x y/n #dean x female!reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x female!reader #dean winchester fanfiction #sam winchester

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chaotic-mystery · 2 months ago

Text

Code Red | Chapter Eleven: I Only See Daylight

Pairing: No outbreak AU dbf!Joel Miller x f!OC (told in 2nd POV)

Summary: You're back in Texas after going on vacation with Joel and needless to say, shit hits the fan.

Content Warnings: 18+ ONLY MDNI. Enemies to lovers, dads best friend Joel, age gap (readers in her twenties and Joel is in his forties), slow burn, written in 2nd POV, no use of y/n, broken father/daughter relationship, daddy issues, dd/lg relationship dynamic, serious conversations about kid(s), allusions to sex & taking photos during sex, swearing, mentions of drinking, reader smokes & sometimes Joel, A new song introduced to the universe!, hidden relationship, Joel wanting to fight your dad, the start of everything falling apart. Texts shared between reader & Joel.

Authors Note: Here we are. I know I haven't touched this story since May 14th and I'm not done with them quite yet. I plan to write ahead moving forward so I don't leave anyone on a cliffhanger. This is 100000% not beta'd (I didn't want to burden anybody) so the mistakes are all moi. There's little eggs hidden of when this was written and I hope you giggle when you catch them. Thank you if you're still reading their story, I don't plan on leaving again <3

|| wc: 4.8K || divider by @/anitalenia || previous chapter || series masterlist || main masterlist ||

It had been a few days since that night Sharon came by and woke you up at two in the morning, sticking her nose in your business about Joel.

She was only worried about your dad finding out and how he would react, she said she didn’t tell your mom and nothing seemed different when you went over to her house to drive into town to shop, but it was eating away at you if she was actually putting on a show just like you had been.

Sharon warned you to be safe and reminded you she was there if you needed anything but the way she was going about this worried you. She failed to mention how you should break it to Sarah and you hadn’t even begun to think about how to have that conversation with her. Do you just…show up on the porch one day and tell her you’ve been seeing her dad for almost the past year?

Scratch that, that’s a terrible idea. It was a conversation to be had with Joel and the last thing you wanted was to feel like you were replacing her as the number one woman in his life. All you ever dealt with as a kid was your dads girlfriends making it feel like a competition for who he loved the most and unfortunately you were never a first place winner.

“Honey? Do you like this?” Your mom’s voice becomes clearer as you’re once again yanked from the seat inside your thoughts to the present time.

The bright green hoodie she was holding up was so bright you damn near needed sunglasses just to lay eyes on it. Every muscle in your face fights to make a disgusted look but knowing your mom would be upset, you keep a straight face and quickly scan the metal racks surrounding you for a different option to counter it. Like a magnet, the pink hoodie with chunky writing on the back nearly jumps off the hanger and into your arms.

“I think this one is a little more me, you think?”

She nods her head and takes it from you, throwing it over her bent arm in front of her body. She told you to pick out something from the souvenir shop and she’d pay for it, also meaning to find something for Joel. What could he possibly want from here? He wasn’t really a hoodie kind of guy, especially not down in Texas when he was outside practically all the time. He had more than enough trucker hats to last him the rest of his life.

“So tell me more about Joel, sweetheart, what’s his normal life like?”

“Well, he’s my boss but that happened after we started dating. Umm, I mean he’s my neighbor which was also before we started dating, promise I didn’t move closer to him just because we’re together.”

Your mom nods with a small smile, her face relaxing as you soothe her mind in knowing she taught you well not to move so fast with someone you hardly know.

“He um, he’s got a kid..” you scratch your head and spin around to look at the clothes behind you, her eyes burning into the back of your skull. “..it’s really not that big of a deal, I don’t think. I haven’t really met her yet. I don’t want her to feel like I’m trying to replace her mom or take her dad from her.” The quiver in your voice surprises you both and your mom spins you back around, rubbing your arm caringly.

You were terrified, truthfully. Telling Sarah about your relationship scared the shit out of you. Even thinking about Joel asking you to be responsible with Sarah scared the life from you.

“Mommy, I’m so scared. What if she doesn’t like me and he breaks up with me? I mean, I wouldn’t want him to stay with me if she’s unhappy about it. I just…I love him.” Your voice was just above a whisper and the words felt as if they were slicing your throat on the way out.

She says nothing as her lips pursed together into a frown and pulls you into her arms, hugging you tightly. Once more you felt like a little girl needing the comfort of your mother when things got tough.

“You’ll be okay, I know it. Listen to me-” her hands grip your face to keep eye contact with you before she continues. “-you know better than anyone what that feels like and you’d do anything to protect that little girl, even if that means not seeing him anymore. You don’t have it in you to be that cruel. Just be yourself and she’ll see how happy you make him.”

Hearing testaments about your character always made you feel weird inside. It was never easy hearing how other people see you, especially when it’s positive. You look at her and she smiles assuringly before kissing the top of your forehead.

“Come on, let’s find something for Sarah.”

Holding onto the little beaded keychain in your hand, your mom pulls up to the quaint cabin you unfortunately had to say goodbye to tomorrow and she rubs your arm softly.

“You’ll be okay, sweetheart. Just be honest with him about your feelings with this. It’s all valid.”

You breathe in deeply and release the air out of your mouth, nodding at her.

“I’ll be fine, I just need to go see him. I love you, I’ll stop by on the way to the airport.”

You hated goodbyes. So it wasn’t saying goodbye to her, it was just telling her you’d see her later. You kiss her cheek and grab your bag of goodies from between your legs on the floor before getting out, standing out of the way so she could pull off. Jiggling the plastic bag in your hand nervously, you dig around in your purse until you feel the smooth carton of cigarettes and lighter clanking around inside.

The gray flint rubs against the pad of your thumb as you ignite the cigarette held between your lips, walking up to the small wooden porch to sit in the white rocking chair under the window. Too many thoughts about Sarah and all the ways she could react flood your thoughts again as you take a big drag to erase it all. Joel pushes the screen door open just enough to slip through and he nudges your knee gently.

“Hungry? Made BLT sandwiches if you want one.” Joel presses a kiss to your cheek before taking the cigarette from between your fingers and taking a drag.

“Tempting, maybe. I got you something from town, though!” You try to make it seem like you weren’t bothered by anything but he could read you like a goddamn book.

You were his favorite one.

His eyes fell to the bright blue shirt you were pulling out of the plastic bag, chuckling to himself before he even got to see the design. You finally get it out and flip it towards him so Joel could see what you picked out for him.

“You’ve gotta be shittin’ me. This is awesome.”

Joel’s fingers trace over the goofy design of the state drawn as an old fashioned cartoon with feet holding it up and bright yellow letters across the top. He stares at the piece of clothing for longer than normal, continuously rubbing over the painted letters. The thought of you buying it for him, spending the time to find something he would wear, it meant a lot to him and it was written all over his face.

“Thank you, baby. I love it.”

Joel sets it in the chair next to you and places both hands on either side of your chair, leaning down until he’s eye level with you.

“My pretty girl, what’re you thinkin’ about in here?” As he finishes saying his sentence he bumps his forehead into yours, resting them together comfortably.

Joel turns his face to the side for a moment to take another drag of the shared cigarette and he blows the smoke quickly to return back in position. Your eyes close as you relax against his touch, the slight breeze rustling against the trees and drowning out the sound of your mind screaming at you. The dooming thoughts of Sarah knowing about this could wait, you were here with the man of your dreams, having the time of your life and it was the last night before you had to unfortunately return to Texas and go back to hiding something you were so proud of.

“I just wish we could run away somewhere where we don't have to hide our relationship. Where I can walk into the grocery store with you and not worry about still holding your hand, wondering if someone who knows my dad is gonna turn the corner and see it. I just- I want to love you loudly like you deserve. You aren’t meant to be a secret.”

Joel’s right hand rests on your crossed leg, rubbing your calf to ease you.

“I’ll give you everything you could ever want and more, I swear it. How much time do I have to give it to you, though?”

“I’ve got enough time for you, Miller. Not too long though, I’m not a patient person, ya know.”

The thought of waiting an eternity for Joel Miller didn’t sound so bad, at least not to you.

Every now and then you would get this feeling in your stomach thinking about Joel and how much you really did care for him and love him. It wasn’t a feeling you could quite pinpoint. The depth of sadness would overcome you just at the idea of losing him, knowing one day his footsteps wouldn’t grace this earth anymore. It was always sitting in the back of your mind, poking at you to love whatever time you got with him, because one day there wasn’t going to be this.

“I love you, you know that?” Joel asks and kisses your lips before you can answer.

The kiss quickly turns passionate and he backs up with your lips still glued to his, your body carrying you with every step he takes into the house. Joel leads you to the bedroom and tosses you on the bed lovingly, admiring the way your beautiful eyes glowed in the golden ray of sunlight seeping through the flowy curtains.

“Let’s enjoy our last night here, yeah?”

You grab your camera from the pocket of your sundress and grin at Joel, the gears turning inside his mind as he catches on.

“To our last night.”

Running on a few hours of sleep and the coffee not doing its job in your body, you yawn again as your Uber pulls up to your moms house. This was the part you were dreading the most, seeing your mom torn up that you’re leaving again.

“Cmon, Mom, I gotta get going!” The fake happy tone was so apparent but it was easier to keep her up in good spirits if you pretended to be okay.

Your mom comes around the corner from the kitchen, her hand towel tossed over her shoulder as she always did when she was doing dishes. She wipes her hands dry and hugs you so tight it feels like your eyes are going to pop out.

“I love you so much, mommy. I’ll call you when I get back to Texas and I’m home safe, I swear it.” Fuck, and just like that, the quiver in your voice makes you start to break and before you can collect yourself, tears slipping from your eyes.

“I love you more, my baby. Have a safe flight, okay? Who knows, maybe I’ll come see you for the holidays in a few months.” She laughs to keep herself from crying but it only goes so far before you can feel her body jolt with every sob.

The tight grip of her arms around your neck makes you giggle between your tears and she squeezes you once more before letting you go, standing up straight to get a good look at you before letting you leave her again and go spread your wings back to your home.

“Come on, you’ve got a plane to catch!”

You take her hand in yours and walk to your Uber, Joel getting out immediately to give her a hug goodbye. As you circle around the back of the car to get inside, you can’t help but notice Joel and your mom having some sort of quiet conversation you weren’t privy to. Swallowing dryly and wanting so bad to know what they were talking about, you climbed into the backseat of the car to give them privacy. Though it bothered you enough to dig your fingernail into the side of your thumb, you knew deep down it wasn’t anything bad they were sharing back and forth.

Joel opens the door before finishing his goodbye to your mom.

“Bye, we’ll see you soon!” He grins and gets inside the car, buckling up before waving to her as your driver starts to pull off. There was no shot in hell you could look at her as you drove away, not if you wanted to get to the airport with minimal tears.

Joel intertwined his fingers in yours and kisses the top of your hand to console you, take your mind off the fact you just left your mom again.

It felt different this time, leaving her house. When you first left almost a year ago, you were beside yourself and so confused about what to do with your life, thinking you’d be making the right choice to chase your dad for one last shot at something with him, anything.

But, here you were now, hand in hand with the asshole you didn’t mean to fall for, crying over the two weeks you spent with him and your mom, watching him get to know her and love her the way you do.

“Here, take this.” Joel holds out his wired headphone and you place it in your right ear, waiting to hear the music start.

All of the anxiety, love, fearfulness, joy, everything starts to mix together as the lyrics come over the stringed instrument.

Woah, my love, my darling

I've hungered for your touch

A long, lonely time

And time goes by so slowly

And time can do so much

Your tears well in your eyes until you can feel them about to fall, causing you to turn your head to look out the window, not wanting Joel to know you were crying.

You had to give it to him though, playing the Righteous Brothers was such a Joel move and yet, you never saw it coming.

Your heartbeat speeds up and it’s like you could feel the blood coursing your veins, the impending doom of not knowing how anything was going to be once you returned to Texas was going to send your body into overdrive.

It was close to seven by the time you and Joel got back home, the streetlights glowing that familiar orange light at the beginning of your block as the sun started to go down behind the trees ahead of you. His hand rests comfortably on your thigh, rubbing slow circles into the fabric of your sweatpants as you two softly sing along to the radio playing a song from Queen, another fitting song for the moment.

Under Pressure.

As Joel’s pulling in front of your houses, the sheer panic of seeing your dads vehicle in Joel’s driveway sends your anxiety through the roof, your legs instantly unfolding from the passenger seat to sit straight up, trying to make it not look like what it was.

“Did you know he was going to be here? What the fuck is he doing here?”

“Uhhh, I don’t know why he’s here, baby. Just stay calm, okay? I got this.” Joel winks at you and turns the truck off, getting out to see what your dad wants. You sit there for a moment and contemplate sitting still until he leaves but who knows how long that would be. Swallowing harshly, you get out and stretch before you make your way to where your dad and Joel were standing at the end of the driveway.

“Hi, sweetheart. Where’ve you been?”

“Michigan, I went to go see mom” you say bluntly as you take your suitcases out of Joel’s truck in a bit of a rush, trying not to let Joel’s bags be seen. Your dad takes a puff of his cigarette and you can hear the snicker from him as a response to your business in Michigan.

“And Joel came to get you? What did you bribe him with?” The dig at the both of you causes your brows to knit together in confusion at what he was trying to get at.

“She didn’t bribe me with anything, asshat. She’s a good girl, she just couldn’t get a reliable friend to come get her, that’s all.”

What your dad couldn’t see was Joel’s fist behind his back, opening and closing slowly to to calm himself down and not stick your dad right in his mouth for speaking about you that way. One day he would make him see you as a person and not some doormat he can walk all over, but it wasn’t going to happen today. Joel was too exhausted and worn out to be arrested.

Your dad’s face changes when Joel sticks up for you and he clears his throat before flicking his cigarette butt into the street and tucking his beefy hands in his front pockets.

“I know, I’m just messin’.”

“Well, um…thanks for coming to get me Joel. I appreciate it.” You hold out your hand for a handshake just to see if he takes the bait. The corner of his mouth turns up just enough for you to notice and falls back into place as he holds out his hand, shaking yours firmly.

He takes one last glance at you before you take your bags and walk to your house, your face warm to the touch with the mixture of embarrassment and the need to walk right back up to him and kiss him the exact way you had been in public for the last two weeks.

But you couldn’t.

He wasn’t yours until he wanted to go public.

Once you get inside and drop the bags off your shoulders to the floor, you tug your phone out of the pocket on your purse.

8:11 PM [you]: I Miss you :( Come over when he’s gone?

8:24 PM [Joel]: I miss you too sweetheart. He just needs some tools, guess he’s setting up for a pool party tomorrow? Leave your bedroom lamp on if you want me to come by when he’s done.

8:30 PM [you]: Oh? Maybe if you’re lucky you’ll get an invite from him ;)

8:31 PM [you]: Aye aye, sir.

You set your phone down on the counter before you drag the luggage bags upstairs to the dimly lit bedroom you’ve missed so dearly. The piles of clothes you left on the floor pad your footsteps as you try to find the lightswitch on the wall, lighting up the room to see just how disastrous you left it.

It needed a good clean and it was on your agenda for tomorrow, for now you’re too tired to do anything besides rot on your couch and get caught up on Love Island, seeing how you missed the first couple of episodes while you were away.

Rubbing the back of your neck while you scan the room, the sadness starts to settle in that you miss Joel.

You were independent, sure, but being so close the past two weeks without having to hide with stolen glances and tender brushes of your hands behind the backs of everyone was really starting to get to you.

Why did he have to be your dad’s best friend?

The TV drowned out your thoughts long enough to cause you to fall asleep on the living room sofa, attempting to wait for Joel to return. You reach down and grab your phone off the floor that had fallen a little while ago, opening it up to the text thread between you and Joel.

8:30 PM [you]: Oh? Maybe if you’re lucky you’ll get an invite ;)

9:02 PM [you]: Are you almost done? I wanna cuddle.

9:44 PM [you]: You’re missing a really good episode of Love Island. Remind me to get you a pair of overalls.

The last message you sent was a half hour ago and still response. You get up and walk into your kitchen, peeking out the window that faced Joel’s house. The lights downstairs were on, that was the most you could see. No shadows, nothing. Wondering where they were, you put on your shoes and walk out to your car, clutching the throw blanket draped over your shoulders as if it were a cape.

You just came outside to grab something from your car, at least that was the story you were sticking with if you got busted by anyone. Opening the driver's side door and looking around, you see Joel’s garage door open and the two of them sitting in lawn chairs in the middle of the room, a few beer cans at Joel’s feet. So this is where he’s been the last two hours?

You grab a tube of lip balm from the cup holder and close the door firmly, going back inside the house before you were spotted. With your back against the front door, you slide off your shoes and contemplate leaving the door unlocked for him. He didn’t have a key and you wanted him to spend the night, but he’d be more upset if you left it unlocked and fell asleep.

Grabbing the deadbolt latch and locking the door, you sigh and walk back to the living room to pick up the mess you made. You fold the blanket back up and lay it across the back of the couch, grab your phone, and start making your way upstairs again.

Sleep. You wanted to sleep.

The glow from your lamp in the corner by the window illuminated just enough to let you see a clear path to your bed. Stopping to dig out your camera from your bag, you grab it and walk over to your bed. The wind blows in your window and causes the lace curtain to touch your leg, making you turn around to look outside once more before turning off the lamp and crawling into your bed.

You turn on your camera and look through the last two weeks of your life and the creeping melancholia comes over you. Photos of Joel in the ice cream parlor, the two of you playing cards with your mom, little moments you’ll have forever. He hated being in photos when you first met him, now he couldn’t resist smiling as big as he could when your camera was out.

It was a little past ten when you heard your phone buzz on the nightstand behind you. Too tired to answer it or to even move, you settle down into your bed further until you fall asleep.

10:21 PM [Joel]: I’m sorry sweetheart. Didn’t know he’d be over that long. Sweet dreams. Proud you locked the front door. Love you.

The message was the second thing you woke up to this morning. The first thing was Joel on your front porch with a bag from the grocery store with breakfast ingredients inside. He kissed your cheek after making his way to the kitchen. Hours after he made you two breakfast, you got dressed for the day.

“Forgot to tell you, I did get invited to your dads pool party. He said he’d text you about it.”

Joel wraps his arms around your waist from behind, pulling you against him gently while you adjust your necklace. His chin rests in the crook of your neck and looks at you through the mirror in front of you.

“He won’t. I could just show up and crash the party though.”

“It would make it so much better, I’ll tell you that right now, baby. We should probably go separately though. Best we lay low for a while.”

Lay low for a while. Right.

Joel turns you around and cups your face. “Don’t give me that look, that’s not fair.”

You stop pouting and groan loudly before putting your forehead on his chest. Joel kisses your head and stands you straight up, kissing your cheeks until you smile. You kiss his lips passionately and stand still as he starts to make his exit.

“No pouting today. It’s a pout free day. Let’s get rollin’ baby. I love you, I’ll see you there okay?”

Joel taps the door frame as you nod and he grins, walking downstairs and you don’t move until you hear the front door close.

The music booms out of the speakers in your dads backyard and it overpowers your car radio as you pull into the driveway, parked right next to Joel’s truck.

You walk in the front door and head to the kitchen where you hear voices echoing off the walls. A few of your dad’s colleagues stand there chatting away with small plates of finger food in their hands, colorful solo cups scattered along the countertop with various types of drinks.

The kitchen looked amazing. You hadn’t seen it completed since Joel finished working on it. He was damn good at his job and you felt so proud of him, even if I was unfortunately at your dads house.

“Look what the cat dragged in!” The hair on your arms raises at the annoying tone of Janet.

“Kitchen looks nice, sure hope you paid him well” you snark back, a little cattier than you anticipated.

She smiles sarcastically and walks towards the room behind you. Joel strolls in with your dad in tow, tugging on Joel’s white t-shirt as they laugh and you can barely make out what they’re talking about.

“What’s up, kiddo?” Joel asks as he leans his hip against the counter and pours a drink for himself.

You try to avoid looking him in the eyes as best as you can but you only last a few seconds. Right on cue Joel has that grin on his face, the one you only see when he’s with you. The one that holds back so many things he wishes to say.

Janet walks back to the side of your dad like the good pet she prides herself to be, Joel standing next to you, not nearly as close as you’d like.

“So, your dad tells me you went to Michigan? How’d you get so much time off already when you just started working?” Janet smirks and hides it with her cup, narrowing her eyes onto you.

You ready up a loaded answer when Joel starts speaking before you.

“I gave her the time off, no questions asked. I knew she missed her mom and felt she’d be more energized at work if she got some time from here. She does good work for me.” Dad and Janet couldn’t register his tone like you could. They were far too out of touch to see he was talking to them as if they were children. A subtle tone change was enough for you to notice his feelings on the question Janet had no business asking.

“I stopped by your office the other day to give you the final check and Tommy said you were out of town?”

Joel doesn’t shift his body once.

“Yeah, went to go get some wood out northeast.” His fake smile was enough to shut her up for now. It’s dancing too close for comfort and only she seems to notice the damning timelines. Your dad wasn’t putting the pieces fast enough like Janet was.

“Can someone show me where the coolers are? I need a drink” you ask awkwardly, trying to remove yourself from this clusterfuck.

Joel steps backwards and motions for you to go ahead in front of him. You set your bag down in the barstool right by the counter and walk outside trying to shake every bit of that conversation off of you.

The lights were getting brighter as the sun continued to set, people mingling with you and Joel, talking about whatever. It was nice to hear other people’s life stories and how shitty their day-to-day life was.

Janet comes out and makes a b-line towards you, your pink camera in her grubby hand.

“You wanna explain this?” She asks in that smartass tone she always uses when she knows something you don’t. As she tosses the device to you, it lands screen faced up and on a photo of you and Joel on the beach your mom took.

So much for laying low.

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orshii · 8 months ago

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Did I cross the line?

➼Author: orshii

➼Pairing: Kim Hongjoong x female reader

➼Word count: 4 k

➼Summary: On Valentine's Day in Paris, a romantic trip with your boyfriend, takes a painful turn when unresolved feelings about his ex-girlfriend, who was once your best friend, resurface. Despite the love between you, the past threatens to tear you apart. Through heartfelt conversations, you confront your insecurities and reaffirm your commitment, realizing that to move forward, you must leave the past behind.

➼A/N: Well...here I am again with a Hongjoong drabble, and this little something was born because of Billie Eilish's new song. And it was completely inspired by it, so please please, listen to the song and pay attention to the lyrics so you will understand the story more. I just love it, it's such a beautiful song and I can't get it out of my mind...just as well Hongjoong haha...Anyway, I am not sure this is what I wanted, but this happened so enjoy! Byee...--also, sorry for any mistakes :'(... (divider)

Things fall apart, and time breaks your heart, but it also heals your soul, allowing you to feel like a normal human on this chaotic Earth. It's much harder when you're alone, but if you find someone who is always by your side and supports you unconditionally, you become unstoppable. Nothing can come your way when they are next to you and cheering for you on the side to chase your dreams. When you find the mate of your soul, you think nothing can stop you from now on.

Except... sometimes, despite everything, you grow farther apart because of a tiny reason, turning what was once promising into something that couldn’t bloom or burn with passion.

This is the reason why I am crying in a hotel room in Paris, the city of love on Valentine’s Day, with my heart broken into thousands of pieces. How ironic life can be. It's the day of love and I'm in the city of love, yet I never felt more disappointed in love ever. The broken pieces of my heart are cutting me from the inside, I want to scream from the pain, but I have never been quieter in my life, my voice got lost between the sharp pieces of my heart.

Our trip to the city of love started like a cliché straight from a romantic movie. We decided with my boyfriend, Hongjoong, that we were going to travel to Paris for a little break, as we both needed it, we were overwhelmed with work, and we barely saw each other. And Valentine's Day was a perfect excuse for both of us, to celebrate our love, that just started to bloom. Our relationship began six months ago, and it was a maze until we finally understood each other and found our way through the dark, complicated labyrinth of each other's hearts.

We wandered around the city with our hands interlaced, never letting go for even a minute. We felt locked together, forever. Throughout the day we visited a lot of museums and the typical sights of Paris, that being the Louvre and the Eiffel Tower. When the both of us were on top of the Eiffel Tower, the wind was so strong up there, that we could barely see the city down there. The air was chilly, as it was mid-winter. The clouds were gone, and the snow had already melted away, leaving behind only the cold.

I stared at Hongjoong, my hair in my face, giggling as he took pictures of me. The photos came out blurry but full of happiness. The sun that slowly approached its lowest spread an orange blanket over the city, lighting it with all shades of orange. I looked next to me, where Hongjoong was smiling. I saw him in slow-motion, as he was looking down at the orange city, the sun's beams lighting his beautifully shaped face, his jawline sharp, his cheekbones high, his eyes in the shape of a crescent moon as he was smiling. The wind blew very slightly on his brown hair alongside his elegant black clothes.

And his smile... that was why I fell in love with him so deeply that I couldn't escape. His smile was so perfect and wide, full of humanity, with sincerity that immediately caught me off-guard because I didn't believe in the fact, that perfect humans on this Earth existed. But as soon as I saw him, I knew it was just a lie, because with time every human being finds their perfect mate for their soul, no matter if someone sees them as imperfect. For you, they are always going to be perfect.

After coming down from the tower, we wanted to do one last thing: put a padlock on the famous bridge where people place padlocks to symbolize their love, as the saying goes, 'Lasts until forever'. And as it was Valentine's Day and we were in the city of love, to make it cheesier we bought a red padlock to put it on the bridge.

"So did you enjoy yourself today?" Hongjoong asked looking at me with his adoringly beautiful smile, as we were walking towards the bridge.

"This was the happiest day of my life Hongjoong." I looked at him with loving eyes, tears almost appearing in my eyes as I was very overwhelmed by the fact of how much I loved him. "Thank you."

"Come here, my little bun." He pulled me by my hand that was interlaced with his and hugged me strongly I felt like he might break my bones, as we were at the end of the bridge. He pecked the top of my head and slowly separated from me, leaving little distance between us, just to cup my face into his warm hand. Chills ran through my body as I felt his warm hand on my cold and red face, he immediately warmed me up with only one slight touch.

"I love to see you happy." He said his voice a little childish as he was saying it adorably. He tugged my hair behind my air. "I'm happy if you are too."

"You are too cheesy, what happened to you?" I looked at him suspiciously.

He chuckled at that. "You happened; I can't help it." He slowly leaned closer to me and slightly pecked my lips with his. Then he looked at me and smiled like I was the only human being on Earth.

"So, it's my fault?" I whispered onto his lips, that still hovered over mine.

"Yes, it is." His eyes were on my lips, as he whispered the words sweetly.

Then he closed the distance again between our lips and kissed me more passionately, putting his heart into the kiss, giving it to me so I could keep it safely in my imaginary safe made out of unbreakable metal, but sometimes that metal can get infected and it can crack and that hurts. As I kissed him back my lips slowly moving against his, the world was gone around us, and I did the same with my heart, giving it to him, so he could keep my heart wherever he wanted to. I hoped our hearts belonged to the other and no one else.

"Let's put that silly padlock on." He said as we separated from the kiss, caressing my cold cheeks.

I just nodded and took his hand to lead him through the bridge's middle.

"It's nice to be back in here." He said as we were looking around, observing the padlocks people already left there.

"Have you been here before?" I asked him surprised with a frown.

Suddenly his expression changed, as we stopped in the middle of the bridge, people around us walking and smiling, the sky had already gone dark, and only the street lights showed the way.

"Well…yes." He scratched the back of his head, averting my eyes.

"I didn't know, when?" He acted strange all of a sudden and I didn’t know why.

"Last year—with… Hana." He slowly looked up, to see my reaction.

I gulped and my heart started to race quickly as I heard her name. I really wanted to stay calm it wasn't the time to argue again as he knew it was an uncomfortable topic between us.

I nodded barely visible. "I see…" I looked down on my hands. "And did you like—were here?" My voice came out strange, it lost its power as I pointed at the padlocks.

"Y—yes," Hongjoong said noticing as my expression changed very quickly. He stepped closer to me to hold my hands. I just looked down at our hands and then at the padlocks. "But it was in the past and you know it, Y/N. I want to do this with you." He reached his hands towards my face, but before he could touch it, I stopped him.

"Well, I don't want to anymore." My voice came out serious, my face looked hurt and disappointed. I stepped back, putting distance between us.

"C'mon, Y/N. You can't be serious." He stepped closer to me and I stepped back again on that. He scoffed at that. "Why can't you put it all behind you? It was a long time ago."

"Because she's everywhere I go, Hongjoong, anything I do with you has to do something with her." Tears started to well up in my eyes.

"It's not, you just made it up here," He pointed at his temple."…because you can't get over it, Y/N." He seemed upset as his voice got more serious.

I scoffed at that in disbelief. "So, now you think I'm crazy?"

It is very unpredictable how everything can change from heaven to hell.

"No, you are not crazy, but you definitely can't let go of the past and be in the present…with me." Hongjoong said running his fingers through his brown short hair.

"What can I do, when all the time I see her face, everywhere." I lifted my arms helplessly. "In our daily life, in our home…in your eyes." One tear slowly escaped my left eye.

"When will you understand she is nothing to me now?" He stepped closer to me, disappointment showing on his face. "When will you understand you are my everything? That I love you and no one else." His voice got lower, weaker.

"I know that you love me, you don't need to remind me like it's an obligation." I looked at him already feeling so far away from him.

Hongjoong scoffed at that. "What are you talking about?"

"You always sound like you have to assure me you love me." I looked down at the ground, where our shadows melted into each other. I just wanted to hide from him. "I am sure you love me. But…it's just a feeling I can't shake."

"You have no idea what are you talking about. Can't you get that you are my fucking world Y/N?" I felt as he stared at me with deadly eyes, growing more furious.

Stressed, I ran my fingers through my hair, tears streaming down my face. "But you aren't mine," I barely said out loud, knowing he could hear me.

I couldn't see his expression as he stood there in silence for a moment.

"You think so?" he asked, his voice calmer.

I just nodded, unable to look up.

He chuckled and came closer to me, his breath close to my face. "So, let's make it fair, then. Shall we?" His voice was like a threat. Then he grabbed the padlock from my hand and threw it away into the water. I stared at him, my eyes wide in shock. "I wanted to make you happy, to do cheesy things like this. But if you can't understand, let's just stop."

"I never wanted to fight," I mumbled.

"But we always do, Y/N." He lifted his eyebrows as he looked at me, disappointed. "It wasn't like this before."

"What do you mean?" I asked him, confused.

"I mean, when we started, it was nice. We were happy, no arguing. But you kept looking into my past and everything changed." He looked into my eyes, tired of the arguments.

"Because she was always there in the back of my mind." I sniffled and wiped away a tear.

"She isn't now. But you can't see it." He shook his head slightly.

"Honestly…I don't know if I can be with someone who can't let go of the past…" I snapped my head up at that, his face was nothing but serious without any emotions. My heart started to race more quickly than before.

"Hongjoong…" I stepped closer to him with regret on my face.

"No." Now he was the one who stepped back, and my heart started to crack. "I am tired of this, you have to let go of our past and be present completely, not only with half of your heart." He said those words like it was venom and it flew right into my lungs poisoning it so I couldn't breathe anymore.

"We will talk when you finally manage to do that." He put his hands into his pockets and just passed by me like we suddenly became two strangers, leaving me there on the bridge where we could've locked our love forever, he left me with a heart suddenly broken into millions of pieces.

Did I cross the line?

The thing is Hana was Hongjoong's ex-girlfriend and my best friend.

My best friend and Hongjoong got together three years ago and broke up last summer. And it wasn't particularly because of me, well I played a little part in that as well, but they just always argued about little annoying things and I was the one who reconciled them. I'm not sure when it happened, but the more I was hanging out with my best friend and her boyfriend the more I felt something wasn't right. I started to feel something towards Hongjoong and I knew it wasn’t right so I quickly buried it deep down into my soul, so no one would know it.

I watched them through these years when they were arguing and when they hated each other, but they always made up at the end of the day and everyone was happy.

Not until one day, Hongjoong found out Hana cheated on him. That day was a disaster because the more time I spent with Hongjoong, the closer I grew to him. I considered him a friend and liked him. I could talk about things with him, that I didn’t even tell my best friend. It was hard to take sides, to be honest, it was cruel of my best friend but at the same time she was my best friend and I needed to be by her side. She was crying on my shoulder even though she fucked all of this up. Slowly, Hongjoong walked out of our lives, and it didn't feel right for some reason. Not seeing him every day, not knowing what he was doing, made my heart ache for some reason and I was so confused.

Not until July.

We accidentally ended up at the same event connected to our work and started talking. We talked, but like we just met, like we didn't know each other before like Hana didn't even exist. I felt guilty of course but sometimes people have to be selfish, for their own sake. We had a deep connection with Hongjoong and I didn't want to let it go. I just couldn't.

From then on, we grew closer to each other, and got to know each other. And one night, Hana saw us, of course, I didn't tell her about Hongjoong, that we were talking. And of course, the universe loved us and Hana saw us exactly that summer night when Hongjoong kissed me for the first time. When he kissed me, I felt like I was finally complete, like I found the missing piece of my lost soul. But when I saw Hana's face, my soul immediately burnt into specks of dust.

Until then, all I could see was her face when he saw us, the hatred in her eyes, that I could understand. I haven't see her since then, but she lives in my head rent-free. I hated myself because this was the cruelest thing a best friend could do. But I stayed selfish and chose Hongjoong because he made me happy and made me feel alive.

And now I fucked up everything because I can't get through our past. What happened is happened, but when he touches me all I can think of is how she felt, I always compare myself to her.

As I was standing on the bridge and trying to somehow organize my thoughts, I just started to walk in the city that was full of couples and happy people. The city was alive, restaurants were open, and people were celebrating, and laughing together. Yet, I was there walking past them with my eyes crying out, slowly losing myself in the dark. When I passed by a lucky charm seller, the old lady beckoned me to go there. I frowned as I slowly approached her.

"My daughter, you look sad, did somebody break your heart?" She asked me putting his hands on my shoulders.

I nodded tears appearing in my eyes again. "But… it was my fault…so I deserve it." My voice came out weak.

"No one deserves a broken heart, sweet girl." She slowly wiped off my tears. "These lucky charms will tell you what to do, I am sure." She pointed at the little papers with green trefoils on them.

I just shrugged, I didn't believe in these things, but at least I could make someone happy by buying one. I chose one randomly and paid for it, thanking the lady.

"And don’t forget, sometimes before loving someone else, we have to learn how to love and how to receive it." She smiled at me and let me keep going.

I put the lucky charm in my pocket, not even bothering to read it, and walked forward without any destination. All I could think about was Hongjoong and how much I fucked up. It was a perfect day…why did I have to fuck it up? As I walked next to the river my palm was itching in my pocket so I stopped to read the paper. I slowly opened the decorated paper.

"I fell in love with you because you loved me when I couldn't love myself.

And then you realize it was all real."

I read the lines with my heart slowly warming up and pumping quicker. I never believed in things like these, but these lines hit me hard in the chest just so I could realize how stupid I was, how stupid I was to think Hongjoong didn't love me. I mentally face-palmed myself and tried to stop myself from jumping straight into the cold river and turned around just to run back to our hotel, hoping Hongjoong was going to be there.

Hongjoong wasn't there and he will never come back. He will never come back, because I made myself believe he had anything to do with Hana and that he always compared me to her. But the truth is I compared myself to her and it made my brain a fool, so I believed every cruel thing it whispered to me.

I collapsed on the bed, hugged myself and here I was, crying my soul out with a broken heart, on Valentine's Day, in the city of love.

Hours or just minutes passed by, and I lost track of time when I heard the door closing. I opened my eyes quickly; I was facing the door to our room laying on my right side. Hongjoong slowly stepped inside and took off his winter coat his eyes on me the whole time. I couldn't tell what was he thinking.

I sat up as he approached me and sat on the bed, just to cup my cried-out face into his, now cold, hands.

He leaned his forehead against mine as he whispered. "Oh, my little bun. You make my heart break, seeing you like this."

Probably I looked like hell, my eyes red, my cheeks puffy, my make-up smashed from crying.

I slowly held his wrists that cupped my face. "Hongjoong I—" Tears found their way out again; I didn't understand how I hadn't dried out by now. I started to sob.

"I'm sorry, my love, I shouldn't have talked to you like that." He hugged me, his fingers running through my hair, trying to calm me down.

I slowly lifted my head from his chest. "No, you were right, Hongjoong." Words could finally leave my mouth. "I was living in the past, that hurt me, but at the same time healed me…you healed me. I was so broken, but you managed to glue together the pieces of me. But this Hana thing just hunted me and I couldn't run away it’s like she cursed me just so I could feel his revenge." I looked down at my hands sniffing.

Then I looked into his eyes and the mate of my soul looked at me like I was the most vulnerable creature on Earth. And that was the moment I got reassured about everything.

"I'm so sorry for making you feel like it was all your fault when it was just my fucked-up mind. You are my everything Hongjoong, and I couldn't spend even a minute without you in my life. Please, don't leave me…" My tears flew down my cheeks endlessly.

He sighed and slowly reached for my hands, holding them like a treasure. "You are a fool if you think it is an obligation for me to say I love you. I say it because I mean it with all my heart, and to let you know that Hana is in the past you know I never really loved her. Not like I love you. You are my partner in life, my future and I never want to let you go." He wiped my tears away as his eyes watered and a little teardrop escaped his eye. I immediately wiped it away, not wanting to see him cry because of me. Ever.

"I love you so-so much!" I whispered weakly as I cupped his face.

"I love you endlessly, bun." He smiled at me adoringly, his smile that cured everything inside me and his lips on mine that slowly put the broken pieces of my heart into its place, my heart being whole again, in one piece, just so I could give it to him, into his hands to do whatever he wanted to it, because I just belonged to him and he belonged to me.

He kissed me slowly, like never before, his soft lips moving along mine leaving a sweet taste behind. I slowly crawled into his lap, straddling his thighs. His hands found their place on my waist like they belonged there and squeezed it like he never wanted to let me go. Our kiss got more hotter as I parted my lips letting his tongue inside, discovering every hidden place of my mouth, like he wanted to taste every inch of me. My hands crawled into his hair squeezing it as a moan left his mouth. His hands slowly got their way under my clothes, running his fingers up and down my back, like he couldn't get enough of me.

"You are so beautiful, Y/N." He whispered onto my lips between hot kisses. He looked at me like he couldn't believe his eyes. "You are my beautiful girl." His lips traced over mine as he firmly bit my lower lip.

I chuckled at that, as he quickly flipped us over and he hovered above me, supporting himself with his hands on both sides of my head and he just looked at me. I got impatient and quickly lifted my head so I could kiss him, but he pushed me back to the bed and kissed me harshly, my body felt hot, and I felt like I could burn alive.

Everywhere he touched me burned my skin down to my bones. But I didn’t care because I knew he was the love of my life, that one person who was always beside me and supported me no matter what. The past needs to be locked in the past and the present needs to be lived just so I can build a strong future alongside the emotions I feel, alongside Hongjoong, now, on Valentine's Day and in the city of love, Paris.

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uzuitengensfourthwife · 7 months ago

Text

Home - Atsumu x reader (fem reader)

You dated in Highschool, but broke up after Atsumu lost against Karasuno. 6 years later, you meet again.

Warnings: bit angsty, otherwise none! Just fluff hihi.

Word-count: 2411

Author’s note: Well hi there! I’m back from the dead. So….. i haven’t written sth in a long time so I apologise in advance if it’s badly written or contains tons of mistakes! But I hope you enjoy it nonetheless!

---

Atsumu never made life easier for you. Back in Highschool, when you two dated, the girls always gave you dirty looks whenever Atsumu and you walked down the hall, hand in hand. But it only worsened over time. The longer you dated Atsumu, the worse his fangirls acted towards you. Insults were thrown at you, judging looks were shared whenever you walked past them and even shoving you out of the way whenever they felt like it.

What you regret most, was stopping with your hobby to become Inarizaki's manager, of course upon Atsumu's request. You were once a very talented ice skater, but due to your relationship with Atsumu, you had stopped.

But even though all of this had hurt you, you stayed for him. His love towards you was so pure, he made sure to let you know he loved you. He was never too busy to not see you, even if it meant he had to sneak out his house to meet you at your place late at night.

However, that changed as well after Inarizaki lost against Karasuno. The once long nights you spent together, were suddenly spent alone. The Atsumu that once made sure to squeeze you in whenever, was suddenly long gone. His ego was more than hurt after this match, you remember it so well. He pushed you away even weeks after that match, he barely saw you and during practice nothing more than a little kiss was placed on your cheek, followed by a half assed "Sorry, love".

And when summer came, you've had enough. You've spent months alone. So you've asked Atsumu to meet up with you in front of the Convenience store you've usually hung out in during late nights. Surprisingly, he agreed to meet you at 4 p.m.

You waited patiently, well aware of the fact that he'd be running late. 15 minutes later he then appeared, still in his gym clothes.

"Hey love, how ya doing?" he pulled you in a hug, squeezing you tightly. "I'm fine 'tsumu.., how bout you?" you hugged back, knowing well this would be your last hug. "Ya know, good als always." He smiled as he let go of you again. However, his smile faded upon seeing you nervously fiddling around with your hands. He raises an eyebrow. "What's wrong with ya? Yer nervous as hell."

You sigh loudly, trying to keep yourself from crying. "I.... I think we should break up." - "Yer not serious, right?" He's staring you down, his eyes clearly showing that he hoped for it to be just a silly joke. "I'm very serious Atsumu. I'm moving to Tokyo next week and you need to concentrate on your career anyway." He laughs out loud, he's not believing you one bit. "I've already talked about it with Kita and Suna. They're well aware of this." - " Tokyo or not, we'll still be able to date." You shake your head. God, you should've known this would happen. "No, Atsumu we can't." - " But we haven't even tried yet. How would ya know we wouldn't make it?" He said, his pleading eyes trying to read you. "We're done Atsumu Miya." And with that you turned away and just ran. You ran away from him and the fact you still loved him very dearly.

----

6 years. It had been 6 years since you've moved to Tokyo. You've only kept contact with Suna and Kita, both of them still texting you regularly. Suna himself even moved to Tokyo, after joining a Volleyball Club within Tokyo, which led to you both meeting up regularly.

Outside of meeting your friends in your free time, you were working. A well paid job within a law firm and a nice apartment, which was close to Shinjuku. You were leading quite the normal life.

Until Suna asked you to join him at a party on a random Friday.

"You free after work?"

"Yeah I am Rin, why?"

"There is a party in Shinjuku, wanna join?"

"Do I have to?"

"Yes :) I'll pick you up at 8 p.m."

And with that, you knew you had no choice but to join Suna Rintarou to this party. You yourself weren't really into parties, however Suna always dragged you to go with him, since he didn't want to go alone.

So when you came back from work at 7 p.m. you took a quick shower and made sure you got ready by 8 p.m. And on 8 p.m. your doorbell rang, so you quickly grabbed your purse and ran to the door to open it. "Ready to go?" - " Good Evening to you too Rin, and yes, let me just put my shoes on!" you chuckle, grabbing your pretty black high heels. "I'm warning you, I'm NOT going to switch shoes with you again." - " Yeah yeah, don't worry. I'm not planing on staying for long anyway." He raises an eyebrow und holds your purse so you can put on your heels. Once you're finally ready, you take back your purse and both of you make your way towards the subway.

On the way to the club, both of you exchanged about your day. You exchanged some laughter and without really realizing, you had already arrived at the subway station. Within 10 minutes you had already made it to the doors of the club.

As you wanted to get in line, Suna grabbed your wrist and dragged you to the VIP entrance. And wishing seconds you were inside the club, marked as VIP guests with a wristband. "I keep forgetting you're quite the star within the Volleyball scene." He grins at you as the loud music surrounds you both. Without even telling you, he starts dragging you towards a lounge, solely reserved for VIP's. As you were let in, he starts looking around frantically.

You nudge him, letting him now you want to say something. He bends down, putting his ear towards your lips. "Looking for someone?" - "Yeah." he answers immediately. You thought it was just the two of you, however it turns out that he was dragging you to meet some friends of his with you.

Suna then seemed to have spotted the people he was looking for, which led to him dragging you towards a table with a few seats. They all greeted him with big grins. But before you could say anything, he pushed you forward, so you were able to see who was really sitting there. You greet them all kindly with a little bow, before your eyes met with dark brown eyes that you knew too well. Your smile immediately vanished.

It was none other than Atsumu Miya.

You froze in place, not really sure what to say. It has been 6 years since you've last seen Atsumu. This must've been some bad joke, you thought. Yes of course, Suna was trying to pull a mean joke on you, nothing else.

"You okay?" One of Suna's friends asked, pulling you back into the harsh reality. "Uh.. yeah!" You put on a forced smile, trying to hide behind Suna, but before you could do so, he disappeared to get all of you some drinks. Without any other choice left, you sit down as far away from Atsumu as possible. "I'm Bokuto!" One of Suna’s friends says. He was quite big and had a very well built body. His big eyes looked at you, while he flashed you a grin. "I'm Y/N." you answered, smiling slightly. The others also introduced themselves. So Sunas friends were called, Bokuto, Hinata, Kageyama and Wakatoshi, and turns out they were all part of the Japanese national teams.

"I'm Atsumu. 'Tsumu for short." Atsumu said, shooting you a quick but forced smile. He was pretending to not know you.

Before any of this could get more awkward, Suna appeared with some drinks for everyone. Everyone grabbed a drink and that's when the conversations started to strike. Since it was your first time meeting them, besides Atsumu, you just sat there quietly listening here and there.

"What do you do for work?" Wakatoshi suddenly asked, looking at you quietly. "I'm a Lawyer!" you answered , smiling proudly of your profession. "Woahhh! No way!" Bokuto exclaimed excitedly while slapping Suna's back harshly. You chuckle lightly at Suna's slightly annoyed face. Atsumu looked at you, slightly amazed.

The conversations continued and you kept listening to them all. You definitely enjoyed your time there. Yet, after some time you just needed to get a drink by yourself at the bar, but to still be polite you asked everyone if they wanted a drink at the bar as well. They refused, so you made your way to the bar and sat down on a stool to order a drink.

However, you were disturbed by a male presence next to you. It was a man that seemed quite drunk. "Hey there cutie..." He smirked, watching you up and down. You just shook your head and ignored him. Giving him attention would only fuel his ego. Yet, ignoring him was not enough. He leaned closer towards you. "Oh come on... don't ignore me princess..." He groaned, totally frustrated. Glaring at him, you got up to see if there was another seat possible, but he grabbed you by your wrist. "Let go." you said. "Beg." He grinned disgustingly. You were aware, that he had no good intention with you.

Before anything could happen, someone appeared behind you. The presence strong and dangerous. "She said let go." Atsumu's voice rang in your ear. The man instantly let go, mumbling something incoherent. You looked up at Atsumu, who was watching the man disappear amidst the people. "Ya should be careful, ya know?" He said, sitting down where the man sat before. He watched you quietly, before nodding towards the seat, indicating for you to sit down next to him. And so you did.

Atsumu ordered you both a drink. You decided to stay quiet, not sure how to even talk to him after all that happened between the two of you. On top of that, you never talked again after the break up.

"How have ya been?" He asked you, breaking the silence. "Been well... what about you?" Nodding at your question he answers "Can't complain, 'm part of the national team after all." - " Congrats, by the way." you said, smiling sincerely this time. "Thanks." he replies, handing you your drink. You take a sip, making a face as you taste the strong alcohol within the drink.

He chuckles lightly, observing you from the side. "M glad Suna made me come today." He suddenly said, looking at his drink. " It feels good knowing yer doing well." His words took you by surprise. You were expecting everything but this.

Atsumu slightly smiled to himself, while taking a sip from his drink. "Atsumu..." - " I've thought of ya every day... just wishing ya would be doing well." He turns back to you with a big grin. " Ya should be thanking me!" This was all an act. You've known him long enough to know that something inside of him hurt.

"How 'bout we get some fresh air?"

And suddenly you both were sat outside, barely covered up in midst of the cold autumn night. You tried to warm yourself up by rubbing your arms, but it barely helped. "Here." He said, while wrapping his Jacket around you. "No, you'll be cold yourself." You say, taking off his jacket, but he immediately reacted wrapping it around you again. "Such a gentleman." you chuckle, wrapping his jacket around you tighter.

Like. every other night, Shinjuku was lively. Lots of people were walking past you, enjoying the night for the time being. You watched the people passing by, while holding on to Atsumu's jacket. "You've really become even prettier." You turn your head to him with flushed cheeks, you weren't sure whether it was because of the cold air or him.

"I.... I'm sorry for what happened 'Tsumu." You said quietly, looking at the ground. You were ashamed at how everything ended back then. "Don't apologize. It was my fault... I.. I was an asshole." He stuttered. "I shouldn't have pushed you away. I was just.... broken I suppose." - " I know Atsumu..." You whispered, sliding closer to him. "I was an asshole too. I should've tried to talk to you before even making such a harsh decision."

He shakes his head. "No..it was best for ya. See how successful you've become without me?" - "I would've been happier if you were with me." You didn't even mutter. It was the truth after all. Yes, you were successful but you were more than sure that you would have been happier on this journey if he would have been part of your life. But you had cut him out of it, out of stupidity.

He looked at you surprised. You knew he didn't expect an answer like this from you. But it was the harsh truth, even to you. "I never stopped loving you Atsumu. I was just... scared. Scared you'd leave me if I had said anything. I was scared of conflict." His eyes widened in shock while you tried to stop yourself from crying. It didn't work. Suddenly tears streamed down your face.

Atsumu immediately pulled you into a hug. "God no.... I would've never left ya love...!" He whispered while pulling you closer. You've never felt better before, it felt like you were home again. You've found your home within Atsumu again.

"I... I still love ya... and never stopped loving ya while ya were gone.. Ask 'Samu, he's heard all about it.. " he joked, laughing slightly while rubbing your back in a calming manner. A chuckle escape your lips.

You felt inner peace, as if you've been lost for an eternity and then finally finding back home. Your home was Atsumu and nothing else mattered to you at the moment.

You pulled away slightly, looking up at him. His cheeks were red and before you could make a funny remark, he placed a sweet but quick kiss on your lips.

"I see you two lovebirds have made up, hmm?" Suna was leaning against a wall, watching them with a big smirk on his face. "Oh shut up Rintarou!"

You were more than thankful that Rintarou dragged you here, if he hadn't, you wouldn't have found your home again.

#atsumu scenarios #atsumu angst #miya atsumu #atsumu x reader #atsumu x you #atsumu x y/n #hq atsumu #msby atsumu #atsumu miya #atsumu fluff #miya twins #haikyuu!!#haikyu x reader

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mx-pastelwriting · 8 months ago

Text

Redamancy

Lee Russell x GN! Reader

Summary: Standing up for Lee against his sisters.

Warnings: Slight Fluff, Established Relationship, LOTS of Confrontation, Yelling, Married to Lee, Slight Angst, Slight Hurt/Comfort, Heated Kiss, Mention of Lee being turned on

Wiping away the fuzz of the morning from your eyes while stomping down the steps, annoyance built from the banging on the front door. Having left Lee to sleep in on his day off, leaving you with an almost giddy feeling of getting to yell at your porch guest.

Taking notice of the two silhouettes through the frosty French door windows before swinging open the door, ready to unleash hell. "What!" you say angrily, not ready to yell just yet, looking at the two women who stood on the porch who looked more annoyed than you.

"Does Lee live here?" one said, but the other cut in, "Of course he does." The comment was not clearly meant for you, as she pushed past you.

"Lee, get your ass down here!" She yelled with the other following in, "What the fuck!?" you say, turning to watch them stare at the stairs. Watching as Lee flew down the steps, looking confused and scared while still putting on his shirt.

"Look at you, a fucking mess," she says, laughing, causing the other to do the same. "I'm sorry, I don't know they were coming." He says to you first, then turning to them, "Why are you here?" he asks, making them laugh harder.

"You're lucky we even came out here, Lee," one says before the other chimes in. "We're staying here for a few days; mom's watching the kids, so we need a break," she says, looking around in disgust. "Don't be rude, Lee. Introduce us," the other says, arms crossed.

Taking a deep breath with an extended arm to your back, he introduced the two who welcomed themselves into your shared home: "These are my sisters, Lacey and Lynn," pointing to the both of them. Lacey being the one who pushed past you earlier.

"Where's the guest rooms?" Lynn said walking to the stairs, pushing past Lee. "No," you said, causing all of their heads to snap in your direction. "You're not staying here," you say, laughing lightly at the ridiculousness, yet they turn to Lee. "Look at you—no balls, no calls, no emails, not even welcoming us in." Lacey starts seeing real fear fall on Lee's face, breaking your heart.

"ENOUGH!" You yell, making them turn to you once again, "Get the fuck out of our house!" seeing as fear lay on all of their faces. "I did not wake up in the crack of fucking dawn just to hear two strangers bitch and moan at my husband!" Continuing your unleashing of hell watching as the two step back from it.

Your rant didn't stop one of them from turning to Lee. "Nuh uh, don't even fucking look at him," you warn before yelling once more "OUT!" watching as they rush out of the house.

Keeping up with them, sadly having missed them with the door, you slammed it shut, then locked it, taking a few breaths to calm down before looking over to Lee, stunned by the events that just unfolded, his hazel eyes staring at you.

"Are you okay?" you ask softly while rushing over to him. "Yeah," he says breathy, "No wonder you never told me about-" cutting you off as his lips smashed against yours, quickly feeling your back hit the wall. Breaking the kiss, allowing you both to catch your breaths, "I fucking love you," he says, voice deep while pushing against you, feeling just how much he loves you for defending his mere existence.

A/N: I wrote, proofread, and edited this while having double vision. Hope you enjoyed!

Hello, I hope you enjoyed if there is any grammar mistakes or misspellings sorry about that feel free to let me know in the comments, have a great day/afternoon/night!

𝙏𝙖𝙜𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩: @danveration

#lee russell x reader #lee russell x you #lee russell #vice principals #lee russell fic

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heartofsol · 5 months ago

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Elise & the Duke

Elise's relationship with her father isn't discussed very much. I think it's actually one of the most interesting aspects about 06.

In a flashback, he's shown telling a young Elise "Don't cry" and "Become a strong queen who doesn't cry no matter what happens" in response to her grieving over her mother's death, which is...not great. A child should be allowed to grieve over their deceased parent. Although the Duke means well and says this because he genuinely believes strong leaders never cry (which is far from the truth), that doesn't make what he's doing okay. It doesn't matter that he's saying it in a soft and gentle tone, either. To a child, it's likely gonna seem like a dismissal of their feelings (which it is). This also shows that he was telling Elise to never cry before he used her as a vessel to seal Iblis.

Another thing I find interesting is that Elise says "I understand everything my parents said to me now." It could imply that Elise's mother held the same sentiment as the Duke, but we don't know for sure.

Now, onto the Solaris Project. Some time before the project began, the Duke told Elise that Solaris' power would allow them to travel through time and rectify past mistakes. The main reason the Duke began the project was so Elise could see her late mother again. Once again, good intentions, but the Duke experimenting with supernatural forces beyond his understanding cost him his life and hurt many people, perhaps his daughter most of all.

So long story short, the project goes wrong and the Duke is fatally wounded in an explosion but shortly before his death, he sealed the Flames of Disaster in Elise and pretty much left her clean up his mess. She was cursed to never shed a single tear, had to rule an entire kingdom at a young age, is relentlessly pursued and kidnapped by a madman who wants to harness her power, and when she makes a single friend, he gets murdered right before her eyes by the creature that her father experimented on all those years ago. Elise is suffering the consequences for her father's actions.

And how does Elise feel about her father after all this? She still loves him deeply. She doesn't express any anger towards him or angst about the way he treated her, or that he inadvertently caused her suffering, even though she has every right to do so. You get the sense that she doesn't even realize her father's "love" was actually quite abusive, which is just really tragic. She's been conditioned to accept this as her role in life and you can see it in her behavior. At the start of the game, Elise lacks confidence, is unsure of what she can do in her situation, and even blames herself for the things that are happening. Her attitude gradually changes when she meets Sonic, who encourages her to be more proactive and truly enjoy life instead of being restricted by her role as a princess.

Yet people get on Elise's case for breaking down once at the tail end of the game over the fact that she'd lose the memories of her only friend and would be separated from him?

Elise doesn't mean what she said in this moment, and blows out Solaris' flame to save the world seconds later. She had to bottle up her emotions for a decade and now has to say goodbye to the person whom she grew to love over the course of their adventure. Her reaction here is more than justified.

Elise is such a good character 🤍

#sonic the hedgehog #sonic series #princess elise #sonic 06 #sonic 2006 #sonic next gen #The Duke of Soleanna #Duke of Soleanna #sonic analysis #my posts #Princess Elise positivity

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oddinary4bts · 1 year ago

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Sinful Lust | ch 5 (myg & jjk)

☆summary: On a rainy night in May, everything is bound to break. Hearts that once beat as one, now break in time with the tide. What will be left in the end?

☆pairing: bisexual boyfriend!Yoongi x female!reader x Jungkook

☆rating: 18+ (MINORS DNI)

☆genre: mostly angst, smut, snippets of life!au

☆warnings: mentions of what happened between Jungkook and OC in ch 4, cheating, cursing, momentary trip to the hospital, mentions of bullying and getting beaten up, mentions of alcoholic parent, mentions of domestic abuse, explicit content: protected sex in a semi-public environment, fingering, squirting, anal sex, car sex

☆word count: 8.3k

☆a/n: This one is really sad. We learn more about Jungkook's past, and we see everything crashing down. Please don't hate me for this :') Annnnd thank you @moonleeai as always for beta-ing this fic <3

☆a/n pt2: I do not own BTS or any of the members. I do not know what they are like irl (I do not claim to know their personalities, sexual orientations, beliefs, etc.). This fic is just a work of fiction, so please keep that in mind while reading

☆series masterpost

☆☆☆☆☆

May is rainy. You watch the world outside – it’s turned grey weeks ago, and the sun has yet to show up. Or at least it feels that way, and you’re slightly annoyed as you once again look out the window, only to be greeted by drops of water racing each other on the glass.

You don’t mind the rain. You never really did. But you don’t like feeling like you’re not doing anything, and the book you’ve been trying to read since you got home from work just isn’t cutting it.

Or maybe it’s the fact that Yoongi is once again going to be home late tonight. You don’t know what project he’s been working on – whenever you’ve asked questions about it, he was super evasive. But like clockwork, every night for three weeks Yoongi got home late after work, claiming that he is too tired to do anything with you.

You don’t blame him. He’s been working crazy hours, but you just miss his presence. Now, whenever you get to actually spend some time together he also invites Jungkook, and you feel like your relationship with Yoongi just isn’t what it used to be.

When you brought it up to him last week, he said that he was too tired to talk about it, and he kissed the side of your head before rolling to the other side of the bed. The dismissal was clear, and it’s been making you feel dreadful, like every breath you take is missing just a little bit of oxygen, making your lungs burn and heart beat harder in your chest as it tries to compensate.

You know what changed everything. You saw it in slow motion – that night you’d woken Yoongi up because of Jungkook. That same night you had fucked Yoongi on Facetime while Jungkook watched and guided the two of you.

Yoongi hasn’t looked at you the same way since then. You hate it, hate the distance that’s wedged itself between you and him, but you don’t know how to fix it.

No amount of cuddling or affection or loving words seem to be enough to bring Yoongi back from the place his mind wandered to when he saw what you and Jungkook had been texting about.

It was a mistake. You know it today, and you wish you could take it back.

Wish you could take the whole ordeal back.

But you can’t, and you’ve been trying to be better. To treat Yoongi better, to make sure you don’t overstep the boundaries, though you reckon that night you went flying over the line at the speed of light.

You sigh, leaning your head back against the couch. You’ve been trying to read your favourite book – the one Yoongi bought for you on your first date, annotated in the margins with all of his thoughts on it. But every time you see his handwriting, every time you read what he left behind, your heart just hurts a little more.

You’ve suggested calling off this whole thing with Jungkook. Yoongi laughed and said that he didn’t want to stop. It was strange to see him like that – like he isn’t the same man you once fell in love with anymore. But then again you reckon you haven’t been the same either.

How could you be the same after experiencing Jeon Jungkook?

Jungkook, too, has changed. He doesn’t smile with you as much as he used to, and sometimes you feel like he’s forcing himself. Like he doesn’t want to be there, but just like you and Yoongi, he doesn’t know how to stop.

It’s a mess. Everything is a mess, and you wish you’d know how to fix it.

But you don’t, and so you force your eyes to skim over the lines of the book, reading words that used to be familiar and now feel like excerpts from a different life.

*****

Yoongi likes the rain. It’s calm, soothing, and he feels like the world stops rushing when it’s under the clouds. Like he can sit back, relax and enjoy the coffee on the table in front of him. He’s ordered it black, and though it’s a little too warm, he still enjoys every single sip he takes of it.

Jimin isn’t here yet. But Yoongi doesn’t mind – he likes watching the droplets of water racing on the window. It keeps his thoughts busy, keeps them from running back to you and Jungkook and the night you fucking sexted with Jungkook while he was sleeping next to you.

His first thought had been to be mad at you, but then he’d figured he could twist this to his advantage. Because he knew you and Jungkook both felt guilty, and it now shows in the way you take care of him.

And maybe he is sick and twisted for enjoying the sex life like this, but he reckons he deserves it after you’ve cheated on him.

He’s aware he should confront you. Should tell you how it made him feel, even though you were quick to make sure Yoongi was involved too. The situation just broke some part of him, and he highly doubts it will ever be fixed. For now, he’s just content as he sits back and enjoys what’s left of the relationship before it goes up in flames.

He never knew he was such a petty person. Or maybe getting involved with Jeon Jungkook just brought out the worst of him. Which, he reckons, he should have expected. Because Jungkook has a tendency to do that to all of the relationships Yoongi has seen him involved in.

It’s no wonder he’s never had a girlfriend.

The bell by the doors of the café rings, and Yoongi knows it’s Jimin before he’s even looked towards the entrance. Maybe because he’s too aware of Jimin now – he’s been searching for the man in every room, every crowd, ever since that night that changed everything.

He has to confront you. He’s aware that lying about staying at work late isn’t all that better than what you did. But Jimin is like the rain – he’s soothing, calming, and maybe it helps with fixing the jagged pieces of Yoongi’s broken heart and trust, and he likes keeping that part of his life to himself.

At least for now.

Jimin’s smile is blinding when he sits in front of Yoongi. He’s got a tote bag, and he pulls two books out before he even says hello.

“I got us some reading for tonight,” Jimin finally says, and he shakes the water from his hair. And then the smile falls into the soft one that renders Yoongi unable to think as he says, “Thank you for the coffee.”

Because Yoongi memorized Jimin’s coffee order the first time they got coffee together. It came far too naturally to him – you’re the one he used to remember everything about so easily. But things have changed. You’ve been slipping down a slope, and he knows the end won’t be positive.

“Thank you for the book,” Yoongi says right as he takes the one Jimin offers him.

His blood turns to ice in his veins. He tries not to let it show on his face, even though he freezes right on the spot, as if he’s been suddenly sent straight to orbit with no atmosphere around him to keep his body warm anymore.

It’s the book he and you read on your first date, five years ago. He’d filled it with notes for you, and he knows you keep it in the first drawer of your night table, as if it’s a Bible you like to read to fall asleep every night.

“Something wrong?” Jimin gently asks, his smile slowly wavering until it disappears entirely.

“Sorry…” Yoongi apologizes, though he doesn’t really know what for.

He’s not entirely sure Jimin is the one he should be apologizing to right now.

“It’s just…” he adds when Jimin doesn’t say anything, looking confused. “That’s my girlfriend’s favourite book.”

Jimin looks alarmed. His eyes widen, and he tries to take the book back, though Yoongi holds onto it.

“I’m so sorry,” Jimin says. “I thought… my granddad said it was a good book, so I figured why not?”

“It really is,” Yoongi quickly replies, hoping it would bring back Jimin’s easy smile.

Jimin gulps, looking down at the copy he saved for himself. “Well…” He chuckles, and it’s a little awkward. “I guess we can say your girlfriend has good taste.”

There’s a deeper meaning behind Jimin’s words. Yoongi hears it right away, and something stirs in his chest. Blush creeps on his cheeks, and he tries to push it away, as far away as he can, but he finds he’s too weak to do so.

“She does.”

At that Jimin looks up to meet his gaze again. “Do you still want to read it, though? I know things haven’t been great with her…”

Yoongi has been confiding in Jimin. He hasn’t been able to speak to anyone from his group of friends, mostly because all of them are friends with Jungkook too. They don’t know about what’s been going on, and Yoongi doesn’t want to tell them either.

Though he thinks Namjoon might know, even if he’s never said anything about it.

So he’s been confiding in Jimin instead. Every night that they meet for coffee, or those that Yoongi goes to help at Seojun’s bookstore. It’s been like therapy for him, though he reckons Jimin might not be the person he should be confiding in.

Not when the crush he has for the man feels a little too real.

Another thought that he pushes away, or tries to. He’s not sure that it works, but it does chase Jungkook and you out of his thoughts.

“We can read it if you want,” he tells Jimin. “I promise it’s worth the read.”

Jimin offers him a careful smile. “Sounds good.” He pauses, cheeks tinting with pink as he looks down at the coffee Yoongi got for him. “Next time I’ll let you choose the book.”

*****

Jungkook shifts, keeping his features cool and composed as the shutter of the camera goes off. He tilts his head to the side for the next picture, then looks away. He’s been at it for what feels like hours now, and he frankly can’t wait to be done.

Though the work has been a well-deserved reprieve from his churning thoughts.

He moves into another pose, staring down the camera with a slight frown on his features, head tilted back. The camera shutter goes off again, and he’s about to move into another position when the director yells, “Cut!”

Jungkook breaks into a smile, though he doesn’t really know why. Maybe because he actually likes this – the posing, the modelling, feeling as if he’s the shit for a moment.

It helps him forget that you are Yoongi’s, and not his.

Jungkook walks away from where they were shooting, and the fashion designer that chose the outfits for the day approaches him, a smile on her lips.

A pretty smile that matches her equally pretty features. Boring though – they’re lacking something that he can’t quite put a finger on.

“You did great,” she compliments him as they near a table with snacks and water bottles for the staff.

Jungkook grabs a water bottle, opening it and taking a long, refreshing sip. “It was all you,” he flirts back, though he wasn’t quite sure she was flirting to begin with.

When he notices her features turning a light shade of pink, he knows he hit his mark.

“Please,” she says, scoffing as she shakes her head in a self-deprecating manner. “I barely did anything.”

He smirks. “Give yourself some credit, you did a good job.”

She wets her lips, the tint on her cheeks darkening. “Well then, thank you.”

There’s a silence as he drinks some more, and she grabs a quarter of an egg sandwich that she bites in with her head turned away from him. He imitates her, grabbing some for himself, only then realizing that he’s famished.

So he eats his fill with her next to him, in a silence that ought to be uncomfortable but isn’t quite so. And maybe it’s the way she eyes him, like he’s the dessert, that leads him to suggest heading somewhere quiet.

He sees the debate, the conflict in her eyes, because clearly this would be unprofessional. And she’s pretty, wearing a fashionable outfit that looks like she belongs in a lawyer office more than on a photoshoot. It hugs her frame right, and when she turns he gets a good look at her ass, at how the fabric stretches on her…

And he feels his dick slowly hardening.

“If we get caught, I’ll lose my job,” she answers, voice low as her gaze falls to the floor as if she’s ashamed.

As if she didn’t approach him for this in the first place.

“Then you’ll have to keep silent, mmh?” Jungkook fires back, voice low and sultry.

He sees the instant she folds. It’s in the way she bites her lips, and somehow the gesture is too familiar, sending a pang through his heart as you take over his thoughts.

Yet he follows the woman, watching her ponytail swing left and right with every step she takes. She leads him to an unused dressing room, and he catches sight of the rainy world outside as she locks the door behind them.

A rainy world, to match the rainy thoughts that have been clouding him.

She takes a step towards him, and though he’s faced away from her, she touches him, hand moving shyly on his back. He’s not sure he likes the shyness – he prefers your confidence, the way you touch him like he’s yours.

And maybe he is. Maybe he’s been for a lot longer than he’ll ever admit to anyone.

He turns around, forcing his lips into what he hopes is a lustful smirk. Eyes slightly narrowed, he looks down at the girl, and he realizes he doesn’t even remember her name.

He doesn’t care. He still crashes his lips on hers, pushing her back until she hits the door. And a moment later they are naked from the waist down, and her legs are around him as he pounds into her, her fingers digging in his shoulders as she lets out breathy sounds.

She feels good. He can’t deny it – her pussy squeezes his dick just right. But once again there’s just something lacking, and frustration slowly takes over him until he carries her to a desk, so that he can put her down and fuck her harder, trying to get rid of the frustration.

But it never goes away. No matter who he fucks, the frustration clings to him like a second skin, like he’s been cursed and will forever be haunted.

So he fucks the girl, holds her waist possessively even though he doesn’t give a shit about her. His eyes trail to the world outside – the raindrops are rolling on the window, partaking in a race he’s never understood.

He doesn’t mind the rain. Prefers cloudy or sunny weather over it, only because it makes riding his bike more fun, but he doesn’t mind the rain. He just feels as if the world goes too slow when it’s raining, as if his thoughts are one second away from catching up to him.

They always are. Always are far too close for comfort, as if he’s about to lose the race. And he knows he is – he feels how everything has been shifting between you and Yoongi. It all changed that night you and he sexted while Yoongi was asleep. Yoongi has been more demanding, colder, and Jungkook can tell that Yoongi’s detaching himself from the situation. Perhaps as a coping mechanism, so that he won’t feel the emotions.

Jungkook envies his friend for being able to do so, as his own emotions have been choking him. Until he can barely breathe, until he doesn’t even feel the girl as she squirms under him.

He doesn’t come. He gets bored before he does, pulling out so that he can finger her instead, mechanically. He does it until she comes, until she squirts all over the floor, and then he tells her he has to go. Tells her thank you, and tells her that he’ll reach out to hang out again soon.

He won’t. It’s just something he found helps with ghosting in general. Which, he knows he’ll ghost her.

He’s ghosted everyone that got close to him after he’s started fucking you and Yoongi. Because no one ever compares to you, and he frankly doesn’t even want to find someone else.

He leaves the girl behind, leaves that dressing room to find his, where he takes a quick shower before changing into his own clothes. He grabs his motorcycle helmet, curses the rain as a few minutes later he’s rolling on the streets.

And when he’s home, he immediately uncorks his whiskey bottle, pouring himself a large glass that he drinks watching the rain outside, wondering why is it that he got attached to the only thing he’ll never have.

*****

It’s almost midnight when you realize that Yoongi might not be coming back home tonight. You texted him twice in the evening, and though your messages were delivered he still hasn’t read them.

You know he never checks his phone when he’s at work, but you highly doubt he’s still at work at this hour. And though you’re wearing one of his shirts, he’s never felt as much of a stranger as he does right now.

You try to forget it by looking at pictures of moments passed, of days and nights with him years ago when you believed he was the love of your life.

And though you still believe he is, you’re realizing that he doesn’t feel the same about you anymore. That somewhere between that first night with Jungkook and today, Yoongi changed.

You’re not stupid. You know exactly what caused the change, and you can’t help but hate yourself for it. To hate Jungkook, to hate Yoongi, for accepting to get involved with Jungkook. You should have known better – should have chosen someone you didn’t know.

Fear takes a hold of your heart, and you sit up in bed.

Is Yoongi with Jungkook, doing to you what you did to him weeks ago?

It hurts. You reckon it hurts and it’s hard to breathe, but then again you could never be mad at him for doing something with Jungkook without you being there. You think it’d be normal that the two friends got closer after having fucked – you yourself got a lot closer to Jungkook. But the thought still makes your blood feel like liquid acid, burning up your insides until you force yourself to grab your phone.

You go to your text messages as you worry at your bottom lip, pulling at the bit of dry skin you find there. Even through the anxiety that’s slowly taking hold of you, you make a mental note to do a lip mask soon, to help with the dryness.

It’s the only normal thought you are bound to have tonight, isn’t it? Because you immediately text Jungkook, asking if he knows where Yoongi is. And through a blurry vision you wait for his reply, your teeth now nibbling at your nails in an anxious manner you thought you’d gotten rid of years ago.

To your surprise, Jungkook replies in under five minutes.

[00:07 am] Jungkook: no clue [00:08 am] Jungkook: is something wrong

You don’t know how to answer. You think everything went wrong a while ago. You think Yoongi is sand slipping through your fingers, or perhaps he’s turned into the void between the stars where there used to be light. You think that though spring is reigning over the world outside, winter has found the land of your soul, and you’re not sure it’s ever going to leave.

[00:09 am] You: idk… [00:09 am] You: he said he’d be at work until late tonight but it’s past midnight… [00:10 am] You: he’s just an accountant, wtf would an accountant do at work so late at night

Jungkook’s reply takes a while to come in. As if he too needed to take a moment to analyze the situation, to face the gravity of it. Or you’re the only one that feels like the ground has slipped beneath your feet, and you’re about to go over the edge of the cliff.

[00:16 am] Jungkook: I can pick you up and we can go see if his car is at his job

Your eyes slide to the world outside. You haven’t pulled the curtains shut before lying in bed, as if you’d see Yoongi coming home this way even though you live on the upper levels of the building. But you do notice that rain seems to have given way to fog, though it isn’t thick enough to make driving in the night dangerous.

But would it be a good idea? To go chasing the night searching for Yoongi?

And then an entire other scenario takes a hold of you. Steals the breath from your lungs, makes your whole body hurt as if you’ve been set on fire.

What if he’s hurt? What if he got in a car crash on his way home, and he never made it?

What if he’s lying somewhere in a ditch, just waiting to be found?

You don’t fight the tears. Don’t fight a single one of them as they come pouring, just like the rain earlier today.

[00:18 am] You: would you mind?

Jungkook’s reply comes right away this time around.

[00:18 am] Jungkook: ofc not, I’ll be there in 20

So you get dressed, putting on a pair of black sweatpants along with a thick long-sleeved sweater. You stand by the door as you wait for Jungkook to arrive, almost hoping that Yoongi will be the one to cross the threshold first.

As you wait, you watch yourself in the mirror. You look distressed – eyes bloodshot from the tears that keep coming and going, dark bags under your gaze from the lack of sleep. Because of course you haven’t been sleeping well.

How could you sleep well when you’ve been feeling the love of your life slipping through your fingers?

Jungkook gets here faster than twenty minutes. You don’t want to ask how fast he was driving, especially not as his first reaction when you open the door is to pull you to his chest, holding you tight against him. Your tears free fall again, and you grab a hold of his jacket in your fists, clenching them on the fabric so hard you think it might rip. If Jungkook cares he doesn’t say it, instead lowering his head to rest his cheek on the top of your head.

“I’m sure he’s okay,” he tells you, voice velvety soft in its reassurance. “He’s okay.”

That second sentence feels like it was uttered more for Jungkook than for you. You reckon Jungkook does care for Yoongi. Probably more than as a friend, now that he’s been sleeping with you both.

“He has to be,” you reply, lips trembling.

Jungkook holds you tighter and he turns until his lips softly land a kiss to the side of your head. In the heaviness of the moment, it grounds you, and you pull away just enough to look at Jungkook.

His big eyes meet yours, and you wish you could read him. Though you think you’re starting to be able to, and you don’t want to see what’s in his eyes. So you take a step back, and he sucks on his piercing, before nodding once.

“I brought an extra helmet for you,” he says, and he hands it to you.

You look at it as if it’s a foreign thing to you. And it is – you’ve never ridden a bike before.

“You came with your bike?” you ask, carefully drying the tears that slipped on your cheeks.

He nods. “I do have a car but it’s at the repair shop right now.”

You let out a noncommittal sound as you grab the helmet, testing the weight in your hands, wondering what it’ll feel like on your head. Jungkook watches as you do so, still toying with his piercing mindlessly.

“Ready?”

You take a deep breath, pushing away the image of Yoongi dead in a ditch from your mind, before nodding your head.

“As ready as I’ll ever be.”

*****

Yoongi didn’t see the time fly. When the café owner told him and Jimin that they were closing for the night, Yoongi’s gaze had widened. He’d been so into the book, rereading it for the first time in years, that he really hadn’t seen the time fly.

But he doesn’t really mind. He should, he knows he should, but Jimin is great company, so he doesn’t. He walks behind Jimin outside, avoiding puddles left over by the rain earlier. The rain has ceased now, but the world smells of it still, and the pavement reflects the orange glow of the streetlights as if it’s a mirror.

“Good thing it’s not raining anymore,” Jimin comments, looking over his shoulder at Yoongi.

Yoongi cocks an eyebrow. “You don’t like the rain?”

“I do,” Jimin answers as he turns back to look where he’s going. “But I don’t like driving in the rain, you know?”

Yoongi mindlessly walks a little faster until he’s able to walk side by side with Jimin, and his cheeks burn as their hands brush against each other. He pretends nothing happened, and so does Jimin.

And even though his heart is thundering in his chest, Yoongi says, “Yeah, driving in the rain does suck.”

“Don’t take me wrong though,” Jimin adds quickly. “It was all worth it tonight.”

Yoongi gulps. “It was?”

There’s silence, and Yoongi thinks about you for a time. He wonders if you’re waiting for him. He’s seen your texts, and maybe he’s an asshole for not replying, but he feels like something changed today.

Or maybe something broke, he’s not sure. He just knows that he can’t bring himself to answer you, and he also doesn’t want to go home right now. It does make him sad, for a fraction of a second. Because once upon a time you meant the world to him. You just don’t anymore.

“I like spending time with you, Yoongi,” Jimin says, voice soft, as he brushes his hand against Yoongi’s again.

Yoongi instinctively pulls his hand away, yet he still answers, “Me too.”

It’s the truth. He does enjoy every second he spends with Jimin. Perhaps because Jimin is easy, easier than you. Easier than this whole mess that is Jungkook and you and the threesomes.

Jimin stops, and Yoongi follows suit a step ahead. He turns around to look at Jimin, and the slightly pained expression on Jimin’s features feels like his heart has been stabbed, and he almost instinctively rubs at his chest, over the spot that aches.

“Why are you staying with her?” Jimin asks.

Why? Why indeed. Yoongi doesn’t even know – maybe he’s just too bad with confrontation. Maybe he doesn’t want to break your heart – though he knows Jungkook would be quick to fix it. Maybe it’s the familiarity of his life with you that’s keeping him from doing it. Maybe it’s the fear of losing something that was once great.

He really doesn’t know.

And as he stands there, holding Jimin’s gaze, Yoongi realizes something. Something he probably has known for a while, but refused to acknowledge. He’s stopped loving you a long time ago. Because you’re not the one that he loves anymore.

No, that person is Jimin.

Even though it breaks him, Yoongi closes the space between him and Jimin, grabbing the younger man’s cheeks softly as he presses his lips on Jimin’s.

Jimin is quick to kiss him back, to sigh against Yoongi’s mouth as he takes even a step closer. Jimin’s hands grab at the lapels of Yoongi’s coat, pulling him flush against him. Yoongi wonders if Jimin can feel the wild beats of his heart in his chest, where his fists rest against him.

When Jimin sighs again, Yoongi slips his tongue between his plump lips, and this time Jimin lets out a breathy sound that electrifies Yoongi as if he’s been hit by lightning.

He doesn’t think about you then. Doesn’t think about Jungkook either. All there is in the land of his mind is Jimin, and Jimin’s kiss is healing.

Jimin’s presence in his life has been healing since the very first day Yoongi saw him.

“Come home with me tonight,” Jimin breathes when they pull away.

Yoongi rests his forehead against Jimin’s, still gently cupping the man’s cheeks. “I can’t.”

Jimin doesn’t say anything for a moment, just keeps holding on to Yoongi. And Yoongi wishes the moment could stop – he feels the guilt slowly creeping in on him.

“Why did you kiss me?”

Because he wanted to. Yet Yoongi can’t bring himself to tell Jimin. Not when he thinks of you at home, waiting for him, not knowing that he’s been out at night falling in love with someone else for weeks now.

“I need to go home…”

Jimin bristles, and he steps away from Yoongi. He looks hurt, and rightfully so. Though Yoongi doubts Jimin’s pain even comes close to what you’ll feel when he’ll tell you what happened.

If he tells you.

“Alright then,” Jimin says, and there’s bitterness in his tone. In the way he furrows his brows, features turning harsh, cold. “Go home to her.”

It occurs to Yoongi that Jimin has probably been jealous of you for a while now. Has probably wanted Yoongi for longer than Yoongi has even wanted him.

Would he be a fool to let him slip away?

Would it change anything if he kissed Jimin again?

He tells himself he’s just trying to smooth the lines between Jimin’s brows when he does so. When he pulls Jimin flush against him, and their teeth collide as they kiss languidly. Jimin tastes sweet, even as the taste of coffee lingers in his mouth. It’s not as bitter as it should be – not when Jimin kisses so damn well.

So Yoongi lets himself forget about you for a time. Lets the part of him that’s been aching since that night you and Jungkook sexted take control. Maybe he’s trying to get revenge. Maybe he’s trying to hurt you like you hurt him. He doesn’t know.

Maybe he’s just stupid – he could have broken up with you before getting together with Jimin. But he thinks he’s made his decision weeks ago now, that first time he hung out with Jimin saying that he was staying at work late.

So when Jimin once again asks Yoongi to come home with him, he says yes. He follows Jimin to his car, though they only make it to the backseat. And as Jimin rides his cock, moaning as his fingers dig into Yoongi’s shoulders, rain starts again, drowning out the sounds of their passion.

*****

Yoongi’s car wasn’t in the parking lot of his job. Jungkook refused to tell you what he thought was going on. Not as you started crying again, and asked if he could drive you to the nearest hospital. Because the second Jungkook saw that Yoongi’s car wasn’t there, and you admitted that Yoongi had been coming home later and later every day, Jungkook knew that Yoongi has been cheating on you.

So Jungkook agreed to drive you to the nearest hospital, and you’re halfway there now. Your arms are wrapped around his waist, and you’re a comforting warmth behind him. He wishes he could stop your heart from breaking, wishes he could take the pain away so that you wouldn’t have to experience it at all.

Fuck, even he is hurting. Because Yoongi and you ending means you and him will end too, and he doesn’t think he’s ready to let that go. So when they tell you that they don’t have anyone under the name of Min Yoongi at that first hospital, and you ask to go to another one, Jungkook drives you.

He tries to enjoy your closeness as much as he can, even as rain starts again, though it’s barely even pouring. He drives carefully, slower than he usually does on his bike. And when your arms tighten around him, he hopes you can’t feel his heart breaking in his chest.

You don’t declare yourself defeated until after the fourth hospital. Jungkook waits with you in the lobby as you sit on a bench, head hanging low. You’re not crying, but he can almost hear your thoughts where he’s standing next to you.

They’re even louder when he sits next to you, and you shift infinitesimally closer to him, as if you need his support.

Voice small, you say, “What if he was kidnapped?”

And Jungkook reckons maybe you’re refusing to face the truth. Like a coping mechanism – you’d rather paint Yoongi in a thousand different perspectives instead of one where he’d cheat on you. It shows Jungkook just how much you love your boyfriend, and for a moment he’s struck dumb, wishing that that night five years ago he’d been the one to approach you at the bar.

Even if you had clearly declined giving your number to him. He doesn’t know if you remember, and he’s pretty sure now is not the right time to ask.

“Maybe he’ll answer me,” Jungkook carefully says, and he feels stupid for not texting or calling Yoongi before.

And so he grabs his phone as you watch him, hope etched on your features. He feels like he’s a monster, like he’s about to take your heart and throw it to the rocks at the foot of the metaphorical cliff you’re standing on.

Because he sees it. He sees the pain in your features, sees the way you’re holding onto one last thread. He doesn’t want to be the one to cut it, but then again he’d be there to catch you.

He’s been waiting to catch you. It’s selfish, terribly so, and he looks away from you to call Yoongi.

Yoongi picks up on the third ring.

“Hello?” he lets out, sounding a little breathless.

You freeze. You freeze, unblinking, as if you were on a screen and Jungkook pressed pause.

“Hey, hyung?” Jungkook says.

There’s some mumbling on the other side of the line, all the confirmation that he needs to know Yoongi is indeed cheating on you.

“Why are you calling?” Yoongi asks, and he sounds annoyed.

Jungkook hates himself for what he says next. “Are you okay? Y/n is worried about you.”

There’s a pause on the other side of the line. As if Yoongi is holding his breath, as perhaps he’s faced with the consequences of what he’s doing.

“Yeah, everything is okay. You can tell her I’m heading home.”

Jungkook nods, still not looking at you. He’s not ready to face the destruction head on. “Okay, I’ll let her know.”

And then Yoongi is hanging up, not saying anything else. Jungkook doesn’t move, sitting in silence in the artificial light of that hospital lobby, watching people in scrubs and casual clothing walking around as if the world has not just stopped for you next to him.

“He must have been at work, then,” you murmur. “Maybe we just didn’t see his car.”

Jungkook hears his heart shattering on the tiles of the floor at the innocence in your voice. He says your name like you’re a fragile porcelain, like his hands are too clumsy to ever dare to hold you.

“Please,” is all you say.

He understands. So he asks, “Do you want to head home?”

“No.”

He nods, and he finally looks at you. Finally looks at your pale features, and the utter lack of feeling in your eyes. It hits so hard he thinks he gets a concussion from it, and he watches you, mind spinning in pain and sadness.

And though he wants to apologize, wants to say that it’s all his fault, all he manages to say is, “There’s a place I go to when I need to think. Do you want me to take you there?”

You meet his gaze, and he realizes you weren’t focusing on him before. Because now that you do he feels as if a train just ran into him, and he wishes he wouldn’t be able to feel. Yet he feels – feels for you and your broken heart. For Yoongi, who sacrificed you, and for what?

“Sure,” is all you reply.

So even if it’s raining, Jungkook starts driving you to that place where he went to weeks ago, where the sky meets the ocean and he can just stop thinking for a moment. He makes sure you hold him tight, though when the rain doubles up you’re forced to stop under a bridge, the last one before you’ll exit the city proper.

You climb down from his bike, and Jungkook watches you as you stand to the side. You don’t remove the helmet, as if it’s shelter for your broken eyes, and he doesn’t force you to. He removes his, puts it on the seat and then stands closer to you.

He just now realizes that your clothes aren’t made to ride in the rain. So he removes his jacket, handing it to you.

“Put this on, you’re going to catch a cold.”

You don’t move, and so Jungkook walks behind you, gently draping it over you. He shivers as he moves back in front of you, and he watches the reflections of the streetlights in the visor of your helmet as you just stand there, entirely motionless.

“We’ll keep going as soon as the rain stops,” he tells you. He grabs his phone from his pocket, going to the weather app. “Which should be in about twenty minutes.”

At that you turn towards the pillar of the bridge, and then make your way to it so that you can sit with your back to it. There’s something so defeated in the gesture that convinces Jungkook to make his way to you, sitting next to you even though he reckons it probably is unsanitary.

He can always wash the clothes later. He’s not sure he can afford to wait to keep you from breaking so thoroughly that no amount of fixing would bring you back.

“When I was a kid,” Jungkook starts, not knowing where to go, “I got bullied a lot.”

You don’t react, and he’s not sure if you’re listening. He just needs to fill the silence with truth, and so he decides to give you a piece of himself he’s never given to anyone before.

“Like a lot,” he continues. “It got to a point where older kids would beat me up. And my parents didn’t really want to do anything because they wanted me to fit in. But one day my father told me to punch them back.”

He remembers everything with vivid clarity. He remembers being nine years old, terrified to go to school because he wasn’t sure he’d survive the day. He remembers the stitches he’d needed on his cheek when they’d punch so hard it cut his skin open. He remembers the taste of the blood in his mouth when his lip split with the force of the punches. He remembers everything in such vivid clarity that he feels as if he’s been taken back then.

“And so I did,” he adds. “I punched back, and I quickly realized that I was good at it. So I started boxing.” He pauses, looking towards you. “But I wanted to be an artist. I wanted to paint, or maybe to sing. I’ve always loved singing.”

At that you do move. You take off the helmet, and the sight of your bloodshot eyes as tears roll freely on your cheeks makes him want to reach out, to hold you.

But he doesn’t dare do it, doesn’t want to take advantage of you.

“I’ve never heard you sing,” you say, voice raucous from crying.

He shrugs. “I don’t sing in front of people.”

You nod, and then fall into silence as you just look to the side. Jungkook looks in the same direction, watching the rain fall on and on, endlessly. It doesn’t seem like it’s going to let up anytime soon, so he figures he needs to say something else, to find something that might take the pain away from your eyes. And so he thinks about the rest of the story, thinks about what he left out from what he just told you.

“My dad was an alcoholic,” he admits, and your face turns towards him so fast he wouldn’t be surprised if you got whiplashed. “He beat my mom whenever he got too drunk. Never once touched me or my brother. But when I was old enough, when I finally knew how to fight, I protected her.”

What you do then entirely undoes Jungkook. He feels raw, like everything inside of him opens up, and he’s just left with this downpour of emotions, something that matches the rain beyond the bridge, this safe haven he’s found with you.

You put your head on his shoulder, wrapping your arms around him. To hold him, to keep him from breaking. Or at least that’s what it feels like.

It feels like you’re his salvation, and he knows you’ve always been anyway.

“He beat me so hard I ended up in the hospital,” Jungkook continues. “We fled the day I got out. My mom, my brother and I. We never once looked back.”

“I’m sorry,” you murmur.

He shrugs. “Please don’t be. I’m okay now.”

You don’t answer anything to that, just hold him tighter. And Jungkook watches the rain, listens to the soothing sound of it, trying to swallow the lump in his throat. He doesn’t know why he chose this moment to reveal his demons to you – why he chose to make this about him. He feels horrible for it, but when you look at him next, he wonders if maybe you needed to hear something of the sort.

Needed to know that though there are horrors in this world, one can always make it out of it if they keep pushing on.

“You’re a beautiful person, inside,” you tell him. “I should have realized before.”

The lump in his throat grows too big for him to swallow it, and a tear rolls down his cheek. You dry it with infinite softness, and then you share a look. It seems to last an eternity, but you eventually glance away, and he thinks he’s forgotten how to breathe.

“Looks like the rain has stopped,” you say as your gaze stops on the street beyond the bridge.

Jungkook snaps out of the moment, looking in the same direction. “Seems so.”

His voice is rough, raw and filled with emotions he never expected he’d face with you. Yet he did, and he’s not afraid. He just hopes he can bring you comfort tonight, so that you aren’t afraid, too. So that you know that, even though the next few days are going to be hell, you don’t have to face them alone.

“Where is that place you wanted to show me?”

He smiles through the emotions, through the pain and the fear and the memory of what you and Yoongi are – were. Of what he and Yoongi are. Of what they will be when you’ll eventually go home to Yoongi. Though he doesn’t think you’ll really go home to Yoongi. After what Yoongi’s done…

The fear doubles up, freezes up his blood. Because what if he’s the one you leave behind? What if you forgive Yoongi, and Yoongi forgives you? He knows you both love each other. Or at least he knows you love Yoongi.

Will you even break up with Yoongi?

And even if you don’t, does he want to leave you alone tonight?

He chooses not to, getting up and offering you a hand. You take it, and he pulls you to your feet. Holds your gaze as you stand right in front of him, not letting go of his hand. He looks at your lips, remembering kissing you. Remembering every searing kiss, every embrace he’s hoped meant more.

Did they mean anything to you? Only time will tell.

You step back, letting go of his hand, and take off his jacket so that he can put it back on. He wants to refuse, but you’re adamant. So he gives in, puts it back on, and then you’re back on the road, heading to the ocean. Jungkook didn’t realize how much time passed until you get to the spot overlooking the sea, and the horizon is slightly lighter than the sky overhead.

You stand by the ocean, wind whipping at your hair, but the rain is entirely gone now. The air is warmer than one would expect for a late night or early morning of May, though the ocean mist is freezing. You don’t seem like you care: you stand by the water, watching the waves hit the rock as if you’re a queen overlooking her subjects.

And Jungkook watches you, unable to tear his gaze away from you, until you start crying again. But you cry in silence, don’t let the sobs shake you, as you stare at the horizon. As you watch the sun as it slowly rises, painting the clouds in liquid gold. You watch the beauty of nature, while Jungkook watches yours, wondering if this is one of his last moments with you.

He’ll let you go if that’s what you want. If, in the end, you and Yoongi choose each other.

So he watches your features, watches you break, watches you compose yourself until the clouds are no longer gold, and you ask him to go home. He doesn’t know what you’re thinking of, only that he feels like the clock is about to hit its last second, and he wants to hold on.

But he’ll let you go.

*****

You watch the sunrise from that cliff over the ocean, listening to the waves crashing against the rocks. You understand why Jungkook brought you here – there’s some sort of serenity in the air, like your life is inconsequential.

Like breaking and healing and breaking again are just part of the cycle of nature, of life. Like the sunrise – it doesn’t stop. Every day it comes back, a promise that no pain can last forever. So you embrace the pain. Let it tear at you. You’d expected to break in screams and yells and sobs and curses, but you break in tears, silently rolling down your cheeks. You break in watching the sunrise, peacefully, just an astral body fully unaware of your woes.

And you also break for the man next to you. Who offered you a piece of his soul tonight, so that you wouldn’t be alone. Though his pain is different, older, there’s some sort of comfort in knowing that you alone don’t hold the weight of the universe.

And as you watch the sunrise, you realize that everyone suffers. That the human experience stems from suffering, as it’s the only way you can also know happiness. The only way you can taste the salt on the wind and think ‘Shit, I’m alive’.

The world is beautiful. And though going home will be hell, though facing Yoongi will be hell, you remind yourself that you’re alive. You prepare yourself for the ride home, breathing in the sun and the wind and the ocean. When you’re ready, you turn towards Jungkook, and ask him to bring you home.

He looks troubled, but perhaps he notices the serenity on your features. Perhaps he’s too felt the soothing balm of the sunrise, of endings and new beginnings. Because he brings you home, his bike purring under you as it eats miles and miles to the city, and then some more to your home.

Jungkook drops you off outside, and you give him back the helmet you’ve been using all night. He takes it, putting it safely under the seat. You watch him do so, and ache fills your heart once he climbs back on his bike.

He looks at you, and your gazes connect through his open visor.

“Thank you for tonight,” you tell him.

You think he gulps, but you’re starting to be a little too tired to interpret him. “Of course,” he says. He adds your name, before continuing, “I didn’t want you to be alone.”

You smile at him, though you reckon it’s etched in sadness. Etched in heaviness. You wonder if his heart shares the burden, if he feels just like you do. And you wonder if he too has been breaking all night.

“Thank you,” you repeat.

He nods, and you watch him blink a few times. You’re fully aware he’s blinking back tears, yet you don’t do anything. Just watch him.

“If you need me, I’m just a call away,” he says.

You can’t say anything. Because you don’t think you’d be able to be with him, to find comfort in him. Not when he might have been the catalyst to this whole shitshow. So all you do is nod, and he looks at you for a moment longer until he finally decides to go.

He pulls down his visor, turning towards the street. And then he’s gone.

As you watch him go, farewells hanging in the air, you tuck him into a corner of your heart. Somewhere safe, somewhere nothing ever happened between you and him. Somewhere untainted, pure, and then you whisper, looking at where he disappeared, “Goodbye, Jungkook.”

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:((((( gosh this one is so sad :') (it might only get worse from here). What did we think? Did we like it? Let me know!

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#sinful lust ch 5 #yoongi smut #yoongi angst #jungkook smut #jungkook angst #yoongi x reader #jungkook x reader #yoonkook x reader #yoongi x you #jungkook x you #yoonkook x you #sinful lust #sinful lust series #btswritersclub #yoongi #jungkook #yoongi fic #jungkook fic

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rafecamerons-national-anthem · 2 months ago

Text

𝒯𝐻𝐸 𝒮𝒯𝒪𝑅𝑀 𝐵𝐸𝒯𝒲𝐸𝐸𝒩 𝒰𝒮-𝑅𝒜𝐹𝐸 𝒞𝒜𝑀𝐸𝑅𝒪𝒩

𝕤𝕦𝕞𝕞𝕒𝕣𝕪 Y/N and Rafe Cameron as they argue over a painful betrayal. With unresolved feelings between them, they must decide whether to confront the past or let it destroy their chance at healing.

✮♥✮♥✮♥✮♥✮♥✮♥✮♥✮♥✮♥✮♥✮♥✮♥✮✮♥✮♥✮♥✮♥✮♥✮♥✮♥✮♥✮♥✮

The storm outside was unforgiving. The wind rattled the windows, and the ocean’s waves crashed against the shore like they were trying to break free. But inside, it was a different kind of storm. A storm you couldn’t escape.

You had spent the last few months running from Rafe. Avoiding him, avoiding the truth. Every time his name came up, every time you saw his face on the rare occasions when he wasn’t buried in anger or in one of his reckless escapades, your chest would tighten, your stomach would twist with the familiar pain. It wasn’t just anger anymore, it was the weight of everything. The betrayal. The lies. The way he’d left you without any explanation, as if you were just a part of a story that wasn’t worth finishing.

And yet, tonight, you found yourself sitting across from him, your eyes meeting his for the first time in months. The room was dimly lit, the air thick with tension and unspoken words.

Rafe looked different than the last time you saw him, more worn, more broken. His eyes, usually sharp with a dangerous intensity, were bloodshot, his face weary as if sleep hadn’t been kind to him. He sat on the edge of the couch, his hands resting on his knees, fingers twitching like they wanted to do something, but couldn’t find the will to move.

The silence stretched on. You could hear your heartbeat in your ears, feel the weight of everything that had happened between you two pressing down on you like a heavy, suffocating blanket. He opened his mouth like he was going to say something but stopped himself. His lips parted again, then closed.

And you were left to wonder if you even wanted to hear it. What could he say that would make any of this better? What would it even mean if he apologized? Was he sorry for hurting you, or just sorry because he was sitting in front of you, and the storm outside made it impossible for either of you to escape?

You fought the urge to speak first, but it felt like you might suffocate if you didn’t. "You should go," you said, your voice barely more than a whisper.

The words hit him like a slap, and he flinched, his eyes narrowing. "I’m not going anywhere until we talk."

You shook your head, trying to stop the frustration that bubbled up inside of you. "What’s there to talk about, Rafe?" The words came out before you could stop them, sharp and raw. "You hurt me. You lied to me. You walked away like I didn’t matter."

His jaw clenched, and for a moment, you thought he might explode, fire in his veins, anger pouring out like lava. But when he spoke, it was quieter than you expected, a broken rasp in his voice. "I never wanted to hurt you. You have to believe that."

You laughed bitterly, the sound foreign to your ears. "You think that makes a difference? You think that changes anything?" You stood up, your hands shaking as you wrapped your arms around yourself. "You destroyed everything we had, Rafe. You don't get to apologize for that. You don’t get to come back and act like we can just pick up where we left off."

His expression faltered, and you saw it, the guilt. The kind of guilt that made him look like he was suffocating under the weight of his own mistakes. He ran a hand through his messy, damp hair, his eyes full of conflict. "I know I fucked up. I know I hurt you. But..."

You cut him off before he could finish, your voice cracking with the emotion you’d held back for so long. "But nothing, Rafe. You don’t get to come back and make it all better. You don’t get to come back and just expect me to forgive you. It’s not that easy."

His eyes softened, and you could see the desperation in them. "I never wanted to make it easy," he whispered. "I just..."

"Just what?" You demanded, stepping forward now, unable to contain the rage and pain any longer. "Just what? Tell me, Rafe. What could possibly make this right?"

For a moment, he was silent. His gaze dropped to his hands, his fingers curling into fists. "I’m sorry," he said finally, his voice so soft you almost didn’t hear it. "I’m sorry for everything. For the way I treated you. For how I pushed you away. For not being there when you needed me. I..."

"You don’t get to say you’re sorry," you interrupted, shaking your head. "Sorry doesn’t fix what you’ve done. Sorry doesn’t take away the fact that you broke me. You left me, Rafe. You left me when I needed you the most."

The storm outside seemed to grow louder, like it was mirroring the tempest inside of you. Your heart was beating so fast it hurt. You wanted to hate him. You wanted to scream and yell and never look at him again. But in the pit of your stomach, there was something else. Something you couldn't name. A longing, a need that you couldn't escape.

Rafe’s eyes searched your face, and for the first time in what felt like forever, he looked vulnerable. "I don’t deserve your forgiveness," he said quietly, "but I want it. I want to be better. For you."

You didn’t know what to say. You didn’t know what you wanted anymore. Part of you wanted to forgive him, to fall into his arms and pretend everything could go back to the way it was. But another part of you, stronger now, knew that you couldn’t. Not yet. Not when the pain was still so fresh, when the betrayal still cut so deep.

"Rafe…" you whispered, your voice barely a breath. "I can’t do this right now."

He didn’t argue. He didn’t try to change your mind. Instead, he nodded slowly, his face a mixture of sorrow and acceptance. "I’ll wait. I’ll wait as long as it takes."

And for the first time in what felt like forever, you didn’t know if you were crying from the pain of losing him or the pain of knowing he was right. You couldn’t forgive him yet, but a small part of you wanted to. The storm outside was nothing compared to the storm inside you, and neither of you knew how it would end.

Rafe didn’t move. He stayed there, his eyes on you, steady but unreadable. There was nothing left to say, not yet, but you both knew that this moment, this unbearable silence, was a chapter in a story that wasn’t finished.

You wanted to escape it. You wanted to walk away and never look back, to put the whole mess behind you and move forward. But your feet felt rooted to the floor, as if you were trapped between two worlds: the one before Rafe, when everything seemed easy and full of possibilities, and the one after, where every glance felt like a reminder of everything that had gone wrong.

After what felt like an eternity, Rafe spoke again, his voice barely more than a whisper. "I don’t want to keep you here, if you don’t want to be."

The words were simple, but the way he said them, soft, defeated, felt like the last vestige of pride slipping away. It made your chest tighten. You didn’t want him to feel like he was begging, but part of you wondered if, deep down, that was exactly what he was doing.

The vulnerability in his eyes, the way his shoulders were slightly slumped, gave you an unexpected pang. He really is sorry, you thought. But is that enough?

You closed your eyes for a moment, trying to shut out the feelings that surged through you. It was too much. You couldn’t process it all at once. "I need space, Rafe. I need time," you said, your voice faltering despite your best efforts.

Rafe nodded, his jaw tight. "I know. I’m not asking for you to forgive me right away." His voice cracked on the last words, and you could tell how hard it was for him to admit that, to accept that he might not have a chance to make things right right now.

But as he stood up slowly, moving toward the door with heavy steps, you felt an ache in your chest. You wanted to stop him, to pull him back, to change the course of everything. But you couldn’t.

Before he reached the door, he paused, his back turned to you. "I’ll be here when you’re ready," he said, his tone soft and final, like he was leaving a piece of himself behind. "Take your time. I’ll wait."

And with that, he was gone.

The door clicked shut behind him, leaving you alone with the deafening silence and the storm’s roar. You sank back onto the couch, curling in on yourself as if you could hold the pieces of your broken heart together. The tears you had been fighting finally came, slipping down your cheeks in silent, uncontrollable waves.

Part of you wanted to be angry, to slam the door open and demand answers, demand closure. But the other part of you, the part you couldn’t silence, wanted him back. I don’t know what I want anymore, you realized. I don’t know if I want him to stay or if I want to forget him entirely.

You closed your eyes, letting the storm outside wash over you, as if the ocean’s relentless power could somehow match the turmoil inside you. What were you supposed to do now? How could you rebuild something that had crumbled so completely?

Days passed, and the storm outside seemed to never let up. The rain kept falling, heavy and unyielding, as if nature itself was mirroring the weight that pressed on your chest. But inside, things had quieted down. No calls. No messages. No sudden reappearances. Rafe had kept his word, he had stayed away.

It was almost worse than the chaos. His absence was deafening, like a missing piece of the puzzle you hadn’t realized you needed until it was gone. You’d convinced yourself that you’d be fine, that time would heal everything. But each day felt like a struggle, and the hole he left in your life seemed only to grow wider.

You couldn’t tell anyone about what had happened between you two. You couldn’t explain the gnawing feeling inside you, the push and pull of wanting him to return but being terrified of what that might mean. You didn’t even want to face it yourself.

It wasn’t until the fourth day after he’d left that the text came.

It was simple, barely more than a sentence. Just a few words that felt heavier than they should.

"I’m here if you want to talk."

You stared at the screen for a long time. It felt like time itself had stopped, every second stretching out as your finger hovered over the reply button. You could feel the temptation, the urge to reach out and respond. But what could you say? What was there to say?

The pain of those last few moments with him was still raw, like an open wound you hadn’t been able to tend to. You were scared that reopening it would only make things worse.

But as you sat there, staring at the message, something inside you shifted. Maybe it was the silence growing unbearable, or maybe it was the realization that you didn’t want things to end like this, not with questions unanswered, not with the bitter taste of what ifs.

Your fingers moved before you could stop them.

"I don’t know what to say."

It was the truth. You didn’t know how to fix things, how to make everything feel right again. But in that moment, it felt like the only thing you could say.

The reply came quickly, as if Rafe had been waiting, too.

"I don’t expect you to have the answers. But I’m still here, and I want to try."

You could almost hear the vulnerability in his words, the quiet desperation. It made your chest tighten, your heart flutter with something unfamiliar, hope, maybe. Or fear.

You put the phone down and sat in the stillness for a moment, trying to figure out what to do next. You had told him you needed time, but time was running out, and you knew it. The question now wasn’t whether or not you could forgive him, it was whether you were willing to even try.

Another text pinged.

"I’m not asking for everything to go back to the way it was, but I want to be better for you. I owe you that much."

The words hit harder than you expected, and for the first time in days, you felt a crack in the wall you’d built around yourself. Rafe was different. You could hear it in his words, in the way he spoke to you now. He wasn’t the same reckless, arrogant person who had disappeared without a word.

But could you trust him again?

Your thumb hovered over the screen. Can I really go through this again? you thought. Can I risk the same pain I felt before?

Before you could overthink it any longer, you typed something that surprised even you.

"Let’s talk."

The reply was almost instantaneous, and you could practically hear the relief in his voice through the words.

"When and where?"

You paused. The truth was, you didn’t know when or where. But what you did know was that you couldn’t let things fester any longer. You couldn’t keep running from the storm that had always been between you two.

"I’ll come to you," you typed back, before you could change your mind.

The night you met him again felt almost surreal. You had agreed to meet at a small, quiet café on the outskirts of town, a place that had been neutral ground for both of you. You arrived first, nerves fraying with each passing minute as you waited for him to show up. The cold evening air nipped at your skin, but it wasn’t the chill that made you shiver. It was the anticipation, the uncertainty of what would happen when you finally came face to face with him again.

When the door swung open, you saw him standing there, drenched from the rain, his eyes searching the room until they landed on you. The tension was immediate, thick in the air. He walked toward you slowly, each step heavy with the weight of everything that had happened.

Neither of you said anything at first. You both just stood there, the silence stretching on, until he finally spoke, his voice rough but sincere.

"I didn’t think you’d actually come."

Your heart twisted at the words. "You said you’d wait," you replied, the words coming out before you could stop them.

He nodded, a small, almost bitter smile tugging at his lips. "Yeah, I did. But I didn’t expect this...I didn’t expect you to still care."

You inhaled sharply. "I don’t know what I feel anymore, Rafe."

He lowered his gaze, as though he could feel the truth of your words. "I know. I don’t expect you to have all the answers. But I’m not running anymore. Not from you, not from what we could be."

The storm was still raging outside, but inside, something had shifted. A quiet understanding passed between you both. Neither of you knew what the future held, but for the first time in months, you could see a faint glimmer of hope in the dark.

And maybe that was enough to start.

#rafe cameron #rafe obx #rafe x reader #obx x reader #outerbanks rafe #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe fic #rafe outer banks #rafe fluff #rafe imagine #rafe fanfiction

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the-winter-spider · 6 months ago

Text

Good Guy Part 2 - S. Harrington

Word count: 2k

Warnings: angst, swearing

A/N: Long awaited part 2, I’m sorry it sucks. I just don’t have that spark anymore, feel free to give me any ideas on how this story should go! Not edited or proofread sooo if theres any crazy mistakes be kind lemme know? 😅

MASTERLIST

Part one

—

“Why didnt you say anything?!”

“We, uh didn't know yet” Your voice was quiet, timid. You felt this pit in your stomach, ashamed maybe? Most likely guilt because now you had added on the pile of crap you and your friends had been dealing with for years, you could see the tiredness in their eyes. You wanted maybe even needed to tell them not to worry about you, to focus on saving Max. But you couldn't find your voice with the way he was looking at you.

Steve ran his fingers through his hair, he was kneeled down in front of you, he was so close his hands on your knees, squeezing gently, you could almost see water threatening to spill over his lash line “It's been 2 hours since we found out” his voice was softer now “Why?”

You shrugged “It's easier to save one of us instead of both”

Steve blinked his eyes going wide “Were you just not going to say anything until it was too late?”

You sighed “I dont know”

He scoffed, his heart shattering, his mood shifting from how nonchalant you were being, he couldn’t believe you would be so reckless, so selfish. He pushed himself off the ground laughing “You don't know” he tossed his head back, he spun around looking at everyone else in the room “She doesn’t know! That's just great, so great, she wasn’t going tell me” He paused briefly “She wasn’t going to tell us that she was cursed” He placed his hands on his hips, moving to look at the ceiling to stop his tears from spilling over “This day just keeps getting better and better”

Nancy took a step forward, her voice soft, her eyes softer “Why?”

You dragged your eyes away from Steve to meet hers, your vision blurring “How many times can I truly escape death” Your memory playing like a timelapse of all of the close calls, from the first time in 83’ when the demogorgon had you pinned to the ground his claws dragging across your stomach, if it wasn’t for Steve that would have been it. To the second time in 84’ at the junkyard when you were too focused on the demodogs in front of you forgot about the possibility that there could be some behind you, which of course happened and of course again if it wasn’t for Steve who knows what could have happened. And to the most recent one of 85’ the summer that this thing between Steve and you finally happened, god you didn't even need to be saved that summer because he was already always there protecting you just in case you got reckless which you always did. “Third times the charm right?” you gave a shadow of a smile trying to make a really bad joke to lift even the tiniest bit of weight off of the room.

“You have got to be shitting me” Steve through his hands up stomping towards the basement door “I need some fucking air” he grumbled before slamming the door shut behind him.

As Steve slammed the door shut, everyone in the room was left speechless and stunned. The room went silent, only the sound of Steve stomping upstairs and the sound of the screen door closing a few seconds later pierced the air. The room was thick with tension, and everyone was exchanging looks, unsure of what to say or do next.

Nancy was the first to break the silence, her voice soft, but filled with anger.

“What the hell, Y/n?”

“Im sorry, i just….” You paused not knowing what to say, all eyes on you. The room now felt heavy, like it was closing in on you, you pushed off the couch, pushing past everyone and making your way out the basements side door. You needed fresh air. You could longer breath in there.

As you pushed past everyone and headed outside, Robin, Nancy, and Max followed after you. You were walking quickly, moving your legs as fast as you could, trying to put as much distance between you and everyone else. You could feel their footsteps behind you, their eyes on your back, and the tension that still hung in the air.

Finally, you stopped and turned to face them, your breath ragged and heavy. They stood there in silence for a few seconds, waiting for you to say something.

The fresh air filled your lungs, you took a deep breath. Hands still shaking “So how does this change the plan?” you sighed

Your friends exchanged glances, clearly surprised by your response. They were expecting you to break down or apologize, but instead, you were still as calm as ever.

It was Max who spoke up first, her voice soft but firm.

"Change the plan? Seriously, that's what you're Focusing on right now? What about the fact that you could die”

You ran your fingers through your hair “Yeah, but so could you! You’re young, you have more to live for, we focus on you first”

Max's eyebrows furrowed, and she took a step forward, her expression laced with anger.

"What do you mean 'more’ to live for'? Do you think your life means less? Do you realize what you sound like right now?“

“A self sacrificial asshole?” You smiled lightly trying to break the tension “You have people who love you Max, who need you” You gestured to Lucas who was inside with Dustin, giving you girls a minute.

Max's anger softened slightly, but her voice was still firm. "And what about the people who love you? Do you think we want to lose you? Do you honestly think we'd be better off without you?“

“One less problem, one less life to worry about” you shrug “Ill be okay if i know your okay”

You slightly leaned on your left foot, your eyes looking between Robin, Nancy and Dustin, you cleared your throat “Someone should go check on Steve, we need to stick together right now”

Nancy nodded, her expression solemn "I'll go talk to him"

She glanced at the others, silently giving them a look that said "stay here. I'll handle this" before heading off to find Steve.

“We should head back inside to talk about this” Robin suggested, gesturing to the situation, your situation.

Max reluctantly nodded, her expression still laced with concern as the group made their way back inside, heading back down the stairs toward the basement.

—-

Nancy found Steve sitting in his car on the street, his head in his hands. She knocked politely on the window before getting in “You okay?”

Nancy nodded, full understanding the situation that was at hand, the one that escalated from just Max being cursed but now you to “She should’ve said something sooner, i get that but we didn’t full understand what the symptoms were till last night Steve, with everything going on im sure her headaches and nightmares seemed normal given the circumstances” Nancy tried to reason with Steves anger towards you

Steve let out a frustrated huff, his hands moving up to run through his hair, pulling on the ends slightly in frustration. "That's just it, Nancy. I thought her being on edge and having headaches was normal too, but I should've known better. I should've been more observant, more attentive. I should have noticed something was wrong even before all this Vecna crap!” He paused taking a deep breath, his voice cracking “I’m with her everyday, I should’ve noticed something was wrong, maybe I could have helped her, no I know I could have helped her and maybe she wouldn’t be a target”

Nancy nodded “You care about her a lot dont you?” she smiled softly

Steve's shoulders slumped and he leaned back against the seat. "Yeah, more than I probably should. It's just... We have a history, y'know? We've been through so much together. And now this...” He gestured towards the house, towards you. "I just can't lose her, Nancy. I don’t what I would do if I did."

Nancy straightened up “You wont” she reached out placing her hand on Steve’s shoulder “Were going to do everything to save both of them Steve, Max and y/n, i promise”

Steve let out a shaky sigh, his shoulders drooping. "I hope you're right, Nance, I really do. But every time we think we've got a handle on things, another curveball gets thrown our way. It's like for every problem we solve, three more pop up in its place. I just feel like we're fighting against the goddamn universe here."

Nancy nodded full understanding “I get it i do. But right now we should be in there” Nancy gestured to her house “With them, brain storming a plan to keep Max and y/n safe.”

Steve nodded, reluctantly agreeing with Nancy. He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down before speaking. "You're right. I know you're right. We need to focus on the task at hand. Max and Y/N need us, and we can't waste time moping around." He opened the car door and stepped out, looking back at Nancy with a determined expression on his face. "Let's get to work."

Nancy jumped out “Steve wait” she spoke while shutting the passenger door

Steve paused, turning to face Nancy with a puzzled expression. "Yeah, what is it?"

“I know you said you should push your feels aside but just in case” Nancy crossed her arms “You should tell her how you feel” She smiled softly “Just in case”

Steve's heart skipped a beat, and he felt a pang in his chest at Nancy's words. He had been struggling to keep his feelings for you hidden, trying to deny them even to himself. "I... uh" he stumbled over his words, his heart racing a mile a minute. "I don't know,..Do you really think that's the best idea right now? I mean, with everything going on..."

“I do Steve, Maybe not right at this very moment” Nancy joked “But i think you’ll both regret it if you dont, especially if something happens” Nancy was insinuating in case something went wrong which meant in case Vecna got you.

Steve nodded slowly, his expression turning somber. He knew deep down that Nancy was right. But the thought of confessing his feelings in the midst of this chaos and danger was a scary one. What if you didn’t feel the same way? What if his feelings just made things more complicated?

"Yeah... I get what you mean. But how, and when, am I supposed to do it? Feels like the worst possible time for me to bring all of this up."

Nancy smiled softly walking towards her house “You’ll know when Steve” she paused with her hand lingering on the front door handle “Maybe something good can come out of all this bad” before turning it and walking in her house, heading to the basement to come with a plan to kill Venca and save you and max

Steve stood there for a moment, his mind racing with Nancy’s words. Maybe something good can come out of all this bad. That thought echoed in his mind as he watched Nancy disappear into the house. He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself as he made his way back to the basement, ready to face whatever lay ahead.

You sat there quietly on the couch at the back of the basement while the kids and robin started to put together a half assed plan. Nancy hit the bottom step before catching your eye and smiley softly before joining the group a few feet from you to come up with a plan to stop Venca.

Robin, Lucas, Dustin, Max, and Nancy huddled together, quietly brainstorming and discussing ideas. Every now and then they would glance over at you, checking to see if you were listening or had anything to add. You could see the worry etched on their faces, their expressions clouded with concern and fear for your well-being.

But you remained silent and still, your mind filled with turmoil and anxiety as you sat at the back of the basement, listening to their hushed voices.

Steve finally joined the rest of them. He sighed when he seen you there by yourself, he could tell you were trying your best not to cry. He glanced over at Robin who was with the other group, she nodded her head in your direction. Gesturing for him to go talk to you.

Steve caught Robin's silent message, nodding his head slightly in acknowledgment. He knew that she was right. He couldn't avoid this any longer. He needed to talk to you.

He glanced over at you once more, noticing your attempts to hide your emotions. His heart clenched tightly in his chest, and he took a deep breath before slowly making his way over to you.

“Hey” He mumbled softly “Can i sit?” You nodded still not looking up at him

Steve sat down next to you, leaving a small gap between the two of you. He fidgeted uncomfortably, unsure of how to start the conversation.

He let out a small sigh before speaking again "Listen, I... I wanted to talk to you about something."

Your head felt heavy lifting it up to turn to Steve “Yeah?”

Steve's gaze met yours. His eyes were intense and filled with a mix of emotions, but also a hint of vulnerability.

"Look, I know we're in the middle of a goddamn mess right now. And I know that you've got a lot going on in your head. But I need to say this."

He ran a hand through his hair, trying to find the right words to say, this was something he truly didn’t want to mess up, he couldn’t.

Your heart was picking up, this was it you thought. You could see the nervousness in his eyes, his hand was plucking the seams of the old work couch. You watched his mouth open before you heard the clock, you tensed. You turned back to Steve something felt off, his eyes were now dark, he laughed, but it was different it was dark, evil, sinister sounding “Steve?” You questioned

“Steve” He mocked “Did you really think i loved you? Did you really think i could love someone like you?” He chuckled “Your pathetic, i cant wait for you to go, to leave for him to take you. It would be a relief”

Tears were now rolling down your cheeks as you got up from the couch backing up “You dont mean that” He was taunting you, as you looked around you realized this wasn’t real, it couldn’t be. Then you heard it, the low growling.

Vecna.

#steve harrington x you #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x reader #stranger things fanfiction

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melkyt · 10 months ago

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Red String of Fate LawLu soulmate au.

Law takes comfort in the taut and thick string stretching into the distance all his life. He has always taken comfort in it. When everyone was dying around him, talking of how their strings turned white, his stayed red and vibrant in a world of colorless gray.

He would spend days just twisting it around his fingers as he waited for the disease to take him. Always wondering what his fated one thought of having a dying love somewhere out there on the sea.

When Corazon met his end, and his own thread gained strength, he never even started looking. Law never believed that his soulmate would still hang on to such a weak soul as his. He had settled to never find love.

Then he meets Luffy, and their threads connect and fade. Law is silent, stunned. It is too hard to believe. Luffy just grins, taking Law's hands in his. "I'm glad you survived Traffy"

And that's it, despite Law's doubts and tendencies to run from commitment, Luffy does not leave him alone. Always finding him when the Straw Hat crew has time to relax. Law doesn't do as much as he can in avoiding them.

Then, they make their plan to take down Kaido. It is dangerous, and Law worries more than he has in a long time. He knows that fate loves taking everything that he loves. What if something happens to Luffy? His doubts never go away even if he pushes them down deep.

Luffy sees that Law worries and gets clingier than usual, promising that no matter what, they will all survive.

Law holds onto those words, and as Luffy leaves to fight Kaido, he keeps the red string wrapped around his fingers, so it is in view at all times.

This proves to be a mistake that breaks his fragile peace. The thread that has been the strong constant, present, thins and snaps. It disintegrates in a white mist.

Law drops his sword, his knees give out. Luffy's name falls from his lips in a gut-wrenching scream. Kidd is by his side, blocking big mom. He has no time to check on the warlord but understands well enough what happened.

He knew this would happen, why didn't he try harder to be there for Luffy? They couldn't avoid fighting Kaido, not with their honor at stake, but he should have been there on that roof, supporting his fated one.

Again, he has failed. Again, his cursed soul touched something beautiful and watched it fade away. They should have never met. He can't take this. Tears spill, leaving trails in the dirt and dust covering the pale patches left over from his disease.

"Focus, Trafalgar!" Kidd snaps. "We aren't done yet"

Big Mom laughs, raising her sword. Metal sparks with impact.

"Strawhat ain't dead, no way," he growls, putting as much conviction as he can into his words, even if he does not believe it. The sounds of battle from above have disappeared.

Law looks down at his hands, studying each finger, looking for any sign of the string. If he is alive, it has to be there. He digs at his palm, blood spilling. He wills it to come together into a string, he begs whatever fate, whatever god there is in this world to bring Luffy back. "You're not allowed to die, you promised," He hisses. "Please, Luffy, dont do this," he begs, doubling over. His hands shake. It's not too late to use his power. It can't be. Law gets up on unsteady legs. Not paying attention to Kidd, Big Mom, or Kaido's floating goading form. He needs to reach the roof.

The room gets hotter as Kaido readies an attack that will take them all out. Perhaps that is for the best. Law is so tired. He has his own promise to keep to Corazon, but how much longer can he keep going?

He looks up, ready for the fire to reach them. The glow dancing over tear stained cheeks. Law eyes flutter shut. He focuses on the memories he shared with Luffy. It is not enough. He had spent too much avoiding their connection that the few bright moments they shared feel lacking. Law wants more, it can't be over.

He faintly hears a rhythm past the roar of blood in his ears. It almost sounds like a heartbeat, not his own. His is much weaker, fluttering irregular thing. It feels familiar.

Law opens his eyes only to flinch away. The ruined castle is filled with light as bright as the sun. It is not the light of a fire. "Thank You..." he whispers before he fully understands what it means.

Law lifts his hands up to the sky. Clouds twist around his fingers as they solidify into a white soft thread. It wraps around his ring finger, its fibers pulsing with the same odd rhythm. "He's alive, alive." Law feels a weight he has been carrying for so long, lift, just with those simple words. "He kept his promise." Law swallows his feelings. Maybe he can go a little longer. If Luffy can defy death, then so can he.

-end scene-

After they beat Kaido, Law is the one who does not let Luffy go. Not leaving his soulmates' side for anything in the three days that Luffy sleeps.

#lawlu

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ilys00ga · 1 year ago

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𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐀𝐆𝐀𝐈𝐍

pairing: yoongi x female reader.

synopsis: where you meet him during your best friend's wedding. can a heart beat again after breaking to pieces?

genre: best friend's brother!yoongi, actress!female reader, bookshop owner!yoongi, angst, kind of hurt/comfort, there's also some fluff, strangers to friends to lovers, slow burn, first encounters.

warnings: cheating, heartbreak, slight mentions of depression, failed past relationship, smoking. this is pure fiction ⚠️ !!

A/N: sorry for any typos or mistakes. just enjoy, pls :)! also, I might write a second part for this one. idk, tho.

ᵎᵎ 𖦹彡⋆｡˚・ ─ ・ ⋯ ・ ─ ⊹ ♡₊˚๑

- incoming message: "saera <3: are you ditching at the last minute?"

the screen read.

oppening the door to the hall in which everyone was already sat, you made your way into the room as quietly and as quickly as possible. and with your eyes scanning around in an attempt to spot your usual group of friends, a wave of relief washed over you upon finally spotting them.

"finally! was almost certain you won't be showing up." your friend, saera, muttered under her breath and pulled you to sit closer by her side.

"why wouldn't I?" you scoffed at first, but continued with a more serious tone upon seeing the concerned look her face held, "I'm sorry, I... got distracted."

"distracted?" her brow rose in a stern question, before slowly shaking her head in defeat. "right. seriously though, if you feel like it's too much just say the word and we'll leave."

"no, I'll leave and you'll stay and have all the fun here. I won't let my messed up past ruin this for you too." you argued.

"hey-!"

"I'm fine, I promise. I wouldn't be here if I weren't. we need to drop this topic now." you took her hands in yours, looking into her eyes with a serious expression, and she silently nodded her head after a few seconds. you smiled at her in thanks before turning to greet Jimin and Jisung, your other friends from work who were sitting right behind the two of you.

"how are you boys doing?"

"I'd be better if it weren't for this ridiculous dress code we had to follow." Jisung pointed to the pink hat he was wearing with a frown. Soyoon, the bride and your dearest friend, had insisted on setting a dress code for all the guests. everyone had to wear anything as long as it's not black - "black is boring! this is a wedding! MY wedding!" - or crazy-colorful, along with a special piece - a pink hat or a pink hair clip. something pink, you do you.

no one understood this weird dress code, yet no one dared to complain, simply trying to style their options as best as they could. and in her defense, sweet, typical Soyoon said she wanted to play around and test her guests for fun.

"talking as if you wouldn't wear the most ridiculous looking outfits on random work days all in the name of fashion." jimin chimed in to tease the other whining man, making saera laugh. the room fell silent, and the ceremony began shortly after they started their usual bickering war of words.

in your honest opinion, Soyoon was a very gorgeous woman. she was always well presented and beautiful. however, as she stood before the crowd with her smile so big and radiant, she looked like a literal princess. you stared at your best friend in pure awe because you're genuinely happy for her. so, so happy. and you ignored the feeling that weighted down on your heart as your mind clung back to the day you wore your own white gown and your own veil, all to cherish this precious moment. to celebrate with your loved ones.

just like that, the vows were pronounced and the husband kissed his bride. cheers and claps filled the room, and everyone moved to congratulate the newly wedded lovers. yet the party is still very young.

you stood aside for a while, allowing yourself to drink in the beautiful sight of pure happiness and love, reminding yourself that the world is still moving even though you were busy being stuck in the past. you observed until the tornado that's been brewing in your chest grew violent before walking out of the scene, out and towards the small lake situated not far away from the building.

it's been exactly eight months and a couple of days since you've stood in front of your own wedding venue. eight-going-nine months since you got your heart broken.

maybe you were just a coward, too scared to face your own emotions, but it's not like you chose not to attend one all this time. you just couldn't. no matter how hard you tried to overcome the pain, the wound was still so fresh, and it only seemed to be getting bigger than you, swallowing you alive.

the pain of seeing the person you were so bewitched by, to whom you were ready to spend the rest of your life being committed, the one you loved with your entire heart inside some random room in the same venue the two of you chose to finally celebrate your love, all pressed up against the wall with another woman. kissing and doing things you decided not to even attempt to think about or recall.

at the time, it took you a good five minutes to get yourself together, to look closely to confirm that what you saw was indeed real and not just some messed up image your pre-wedding anxiety was trying to print into your brain, before sprinting out of the building and running far, far away from everything. running despite your legs feeling like they could explode at any given moment. you ran until you reached an empty unknown, crouching down and spilling your heart through your eyes and across your cold cheeks as you cried and cried and cried with the wind slapping against your skin.

from then on, you could never attend a wedding. no matter who the loved one was to you, you just couldn't bring yourself to do it. all you could do was smile apologetically as you politely rejected their invitation. and they understood because they knew.

eight months and there you were. numb body sitting on a bench, with a little cigarette between a thumb and an index, pulling and exhaling every now and then as you let the calm of the lake and the green of the grass, along with the color of the flowers do their favorite game of soothing your heart.

part of you wished you were the smoke that rose and flourished in the sky, giving its weight and color up to become one with the wind.

"not a fan of parties too?" a voice that sounded concerned, but very timid and gentle, broke the silence. almost like it was too ashamed of announcing its own presence. and if its deepness startled you, you didn't let it show. Instead, you lifted your head and saw a man standing close by, with his hands tucked into the pockets of his dark blue trousers and head tilted slightly in question.

"mind if i join you?" the sight of him scratching the nape of his neck with an awkward smile triggered your own smile, but you really weren't in the mood, so you wordlessly nodded towards the empty spot next to you and he didn't comment on that.

"it's more about the event itself rather than the crowd." you took a cigarette out of your purse and extended it to the pale skinned man.

"well, then we're not as similar as I assumed. and for that, I apologize." he mused, accepting your offer with a smile. you watch as he put it between his lips and leaned in towards the lighter you held out for him. "thanks" he nodded, taking a long pull and sighing as he breathed out and goaned in satisfaction.

you didn't know what to say, how to lay it out to him. in fact, you weren't even sure if you should let him know. after all, he was a stranger that you've never seen before. but your heart squeezed with a sudden need to talk, to explain why and how you were so messed up, while your brains insisted no.

you shook your head with a sigh, trying to think of something to say when the man caught you off guard with a question, "do you like playing UNO?"

snapping your head towaards him, you saw him holding a box of UNO cards, waving it slightly and proudly showing it off to you with a smile, and you couldn't help but giggle at that.

"why did you carry UNO cards with you to a wedding?" he chuckled with a shrug before sheepishly admitting that he bought it as a gift for his little niece.

"do you want to play, yes or no?" he smirked and narrowed his eyes in a teasing manner.

"gosh. open it already."

he does as he's told, scooting a little farther than you to make a little space in which the two of you started playing the silly little game.

"how do you know Soyoon?" the man wondered aloud.

"she's my best friend slash co-worker. what about you?"

"her brother, yoongi." he simply answered. you knew Soyoon had a brother before, but you never got to meet or even ask about him.

"it's an honor to finally meet you, then. I'm ___."

"i know you, soyoon talked about you and a couple of other friends before." yoongi smiled shyly, everting his eyes to focus back on the game.

"you seem pretty good at this, wasn't expecting that, to be honest." yoongi hummed at your teasing comment, picking a card, a plus two card, when it was his turn and putting it atop the pilled up ones in the middle. "glad you're having fun. I was afraid you would stick to your frown for the rest of the ceremony and never show us your cute smile."

heat rushed through your face, tinting your cheeks as his words, along with his slick move and the smirk on his face settle in your head.

"you didn't seem happy." he explained further, locking his eyes with yours, and you cleared your throat in an attempt to brush your brush off and continued to play.

"I don't really fancy weddings." you said.

"understandable. I don't fancy parties and public places either."

"yeah, but your circumstances are probably very different from mine."

he snorts "social anxiety is social anxiety."

"did you get your heart broken from an ex fiancé, soon-to-be husband like i did?" you failed to fight the bite in your tone, and your face hardened for a moment before softening again when he didn't respond with anything.

"sorry about that." you apologized.

"it's fine." he smiled.

your little bubble was popped open when a feminine voice called out your name, saera was waving for you to come over. you let out a small "oh" and faced yoongi who scrunched his nose in response, "guess the game's over." he stood up and offered his hand for you.

"for now," you noted, taking his hand and standing up as well, "we still didn't see who's the winner."

for a brief moment, you looked down at the cards you were still holding in your other hand, and then met his eyes again, "it was a lovely game can't wait to see again and beat you at last."

you could feel your hands shaking slightly, hesitating before extending a reverse card towards him with a shy smile. yoongi stared dumbfoundedly at first, then took the card with an equally shy smile.

"I'll be eagerly waiting, then."

you two started towards the building, with you taking rushed steps thanks to the way saera's been signaling for you to hurry up! and you didn't miss her little smirk when you finally reached her, nor the way she discreetly tilted her head towards the other man who was still a few steps far behind.

"I've seen a lot, but playing card games as a first interaction in a ceremony is quite new to me." she linked her arm with yours and guided you towards the main hall, where everyone was still chatting and enjoying their time.

"the party's ending, let's go say bye to the bride!" you ignored her comment with a cheer.

"my girls!" soyoon greeted with her arms open wide for the two of you.

"our beautiful, beautiful bride!" and saera cheered just with an equal amount of joy.

the bride pulled away to look at you with a grateful smile, "thank you so much for being here."

"oh please, did you expect me to really ditch your special day because of some stupid past drama?!" you scoffed.

"I know how hard it's been for you, my dear. I'm so glad you're here."

"it's really nothing." you insist.

"yeah, she was having fun with your brother out there, don't worry about her." saera winked with a mischievous smile, which pulled a gasp from soyoon, startled.

"wait what?!"

"oh my god. stop, you two. we just talked a little bit. I've never got to meet him before." you whined.

"neither did I!" saera fired back.

"well, I'm not gonna lie, you two are a good material." soyoon smirked and giggled with saera. both of them always loved to tease you.

"I'm leaving!"

"don't forget, we're having a sleepover this weekend!" you roll your eyes at saera before bidding you goodbye, hugging the girls one last time and leaving with a weirdly much lighter heart.

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