#anyway I'm never happy when renting a car until I hand it in and get money back and am told everything is okay
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insanefemme · 2 years ago
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Renting a car is so stressful 
I always expect to get fucked over
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hungrydogs-if · 2 years ago
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hey wanna see something sad?
i call it the 'what if everything actually went to shit and the dogs disbanded after x amount of years even after the vp tried very hard to hold on?' or 'au: it didn't work'
mona is in it. and vp. it gets sad because dad gum it, i cannot resist the pull of angst.
anyway, enjoy ~
"Say--" You hear Mona speak out from under the car she's worked on for the past two hours. You look up from your phone and realize you've sunken so far into the shop's couch that you're almost laying on the floor.
"How come you don't have a real job yet?" Ouch, a jab and a stab right into the heart. The leather of the tattered couch creaks when you sit up straighter.
"Where's this coming from?" You ask, brow raised in question. A few clanks and curses come from her and you see a wrench set on the floor before she rolls out from under the vehicle. An oil stain smears over her cheek as she wipes at it, cleaning her hands on her thighs as she speaks.
"I dunno, I just wonder why you haven't settled down yet," she shrugs, "not that I mind you loafing at the shop all the time but, you know, I'm about to start charging rent." The grin punctuates the joke, and you chuckle along. She plops down on the couch next to you and places a cigarette between her lips, still waiting for an answer with a pointed look.
You mull the question over and slump into the backrest.
"Never really felt like it," you hum, holding out your hand to bum one of her cigarettes. She places the pack in your hands right as she lights her smoke with the other, a cloud of smoke lingering in the still indoor air as she exhales.
"Not even here?" She tilts her chin towards the expanse of the mechanics shop. Small, cozy enough, a real mom and pop shop with how independent it is. It's no secret it's only open because Mona brings in those remnants of the Dogs that still linger.
"No, this is your space. Wouldn't want to intrude." You chuckle, and light up your smoke as well. The smoke makes way for her laughter and she knocks a shoulder against yours.
"Yeah, I'd probably get pissed at you for being in the way," she chuckles with a shake of her head.
You enjoy your nicotine in a companionable peace, until you catch her looking at you from the corner of her eye.
"What?"
"I wouldn't mind, really." The words are soft, not tinged with sarcasm as they usually are. It takes you by surprise and the cigarette halts halfway to your lips.
"After everything we've been through these last seven years, what you've been through..." She exhales deeply, eyes set on the far wall. "Don't you think you deserve some stability, some normalcy? Just, boring, everyday things like watering the grass or getting the mail without watching your back all the time?"
You frown at the thought and give her a glance. She still smiles, a soft smile you haven't come to see often.
Seven years of blood and fighting and violence, losing people to avoidable bloodshed. Losing the club, your purpose, watching your friends die... Your fingers come to curl around the Thor's hammer necklace still dangling from a leather cord around your neck. You've held it so often that the intricate details have faded, leaving only smooth metal behind.
Mona catches you and folds her hand over yours.
"I know you're carrying on a legacy, but you deserve to rest. Don't you think that's what he would have wanted? For you to be happy?" The look in her eyes is gentle, but imploring. You take a moment before pulling the necklace over your head, the metal glinting in the artificial light.
After a long while you stand and make your way to the wall where you know an ages-old photograph still hangs, framed and pristine as the day it was taken. You stare at it for a while, studying each of the three smiling faces, one of them your own. A younger you, with a few less scars and a few more friends.
You hang the pendant on the corner of the photograph with trembling fingers, but Mona is there to steady you with her own. She gives you an encouraging smile, and together you set down the last memento of a long dead friend on the last photo of all three of you together.
She hugs you close, and you let her. There's a hollowness in your chest and your neck feels exposed, but you feel... Lighter.
"He'd want you to be free, you know that, right? That's all he wanted for you, for any of us."
The fight that you've kept up for years goes out and you let out a sigh of relief. You return the hug, holding on to the last person standing by your side, steadfast and solid as she always has, and you can't help but speak a soft few words.
"Thank you."
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bratkook · 3 years ago
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right now. (m) jjk.
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not yet, almost , right now
pairing. jungkook x reader genre. fluff, smut, idiots to lovers!! word count. 14.8k warnings. two mega fucking idiots<33, miscommunication/dumb assumptions, smut in forms of: fingering, oral sex (f.), orgasm denial, spanking, some spit bc duh, unprotected sex, super sweet & lovey!! also jungkook is a sweetheart pls love him summary. coming to terms with your feelings after getting off to the idea of your close friend is a little harder than you thought, but how long can you take before jungkook decides its time to move on? note. did jlin forget how to write for a few weeks? yes, yes she did....i know this took a long time but life is rough man so forgive me... but anyways lol the final part to the not yet!verse is hereeeee! thank you to @kithtaehyung​ for reading this over for me ily!! thank you guys for enjoying this mini series, the response was really unexpected but im sososo happy over every comment/ask i’ve gotten for this story. once again, tysm for your love and let me know what you think<3
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The evening sun illuminates Jungkook’s apartment, golden hour bouncing off every reflective surface and straight into his eyes the second he walks in, immediately squinting as he makes a beeline to shut the blinds. His head was already throbbing from the hangover that decided to peak around noon, a mean case of nausea putting a damper on his work day. So as much as he loved soaking in some vitamin D today was not the day. 
“Are you joking?” he huffs as he brings down the blinds, hand yanking at the flimsy string in an attempt to get it unstuck. “How stup—you’d think with the amount I pay every month in rent the blinds would work!” 
Alright, so maybe he was a little grumpy today, choosing to take it out on an inanimate object and blame it purely on the bad decisions made last night—definitely had nothing to do with the residual moping of you going on a date. This could be fixed, easily. 
The first order of business? Texting you to see if you’d be interested in devouring greasy food from your favorite place down the street. He’d get to see you and finally put something in his stomach, it’s the best of both worlds really. 
Jungkook forgets about the blinds, leaving them stuck in the awkward position as he walks away entirely, fishing his phone out of his pocket while he enters his room. It’s the same text he always sends when he’s hangry: If I don’t get food in the next 15 mins I'm burning this place down and taking you with me. 
He knows the response he’ll get, either that meme of the child in front of a burning house or an equally hangry paragraph. The phone gets tossed onto his bed as he changes out of his work clothes, needing to dispose of the business casual attire that was suffocating him, his old college hoodie giving him the comfort he needs. 
By the time he’s finally slipping on his sneakers he’s expecting you to come knocking on his door, your impatient attitude always putting a smile on his face. Half of the time your neighbors thought you were having arguments from the way you’d pound onto the slab of wood, saying his name with just enough annoyance laced into each syllable it would fool anyone into thinking you were actually upset instead of being a brat. But when that never comes, he reaches for his phone again. 
A few notifications fill up his screen, some instagram direct message previews, his group chat that he never responded to, and a few emails coming through, but you had yet to respond. Maybe it’s a little creepy, but Jungkook knows you’re home because he passed by your parked car on his way in. So his mind jumps to two extremes: you were either face down, drowning in your bathtub, or that yellow shades wearing wannabe version of himself was at your place. 
Not an ounce of shame sits within him as he speedwalks to the side his bed was on, placing both palms onto the wall before his ear was pressed against the cold drywall. Jungkook’s not really sure what would make him feel good, hearing you and Jung Hoseok together, or hearing nothing at all. His ears strain to hear anything, but the only sound he gets is his own blood pumping. 
With a small pout he pulls back, deciding he’d play the annoying neighbor role today and pound on your door instead. It’s a role he doesn’t take lightly, knuckles banging on the wood loud enough for you to hear wherever you were in your apartment. It takes a few minutes before any sign of life is shown, your door creaking open, and Jungkook is thankful because he was about to head to the maintenance office to ask for a key in case you actually were drowning in your bathtub. 
“C’mon, let’s get food,” he declares instantly, a charming smile on his face as he stands with his hands stuffed into his jean pockets. The smile slowly falls off when he gets a good look at you, hair looking like a mess on your head and your fluffy blanket draped around you as you give out a weak cough. “Are you sick?”
“I think so,” you rasp out, leaning against your door frame and tugging the blanket tighter around you. 
“Did that fucker give you mono?” Jungkook looks irritated, brows pinched together in a grimace—something you’re definitely not accustomed to seeing so you almost don’t catch his accusation.
“Jungkook, no! It’s nothing serious.”
He doesn’t look fully convinced, but he shrugs anyways, positive you weren’t interested in getting interrogated when you were feeling under the weather. “Alright, let me know if you need me to drive you to the doctor if it becomes something serious.”
With a roll of your eyes and a small smile, you wave him off, slowly shutting the door behind you. Your eye immediately peeks through your peephole, not relaxing until he makes his way down the hall and enters the elevator, still on his quest for greasy food. 
“God, how old are you?” you grumble to yourself, yanking the blanket off your body and onto the floor with a huff. Pretending to be sick to avoid your friend was a new low, especially after the post-orgasm epiphany you had last night. A sane person would come to terms with their feelings and confess to them, uncertainty and possible rejection be damned! But you? No, you have to fake a cold like the giant coward you are. 
The guilt only deepens when a knock comes from your door an hour later, a quick peek through your peephole allowing you to see Jungkook setting two plastic bags on the floor before stepping back and walking to his apartment next door. You don’t come out until you hear his door shut, seeing the logo of your favorite diner down the street. No doubt would your comfort meal be inside the takeaway container. 
It takes all you have to not rush over to his place and say you were lying when you see he had also gone ahead and got you cold medication, a few different bottles because he surely didn’t know which was best, along with teas and some cough drops. 
You’re a dirty liar. A horrible friend too. 
That doesn’t stop you from devouring the meal in the takeout box as you’re hunched over your breakfast bar like a little gremlin. “This is just for today,” you mumble out to yourself as you set the plastic fork down and chug some of the leftover alcohol you had in your fridge. It’s your own version of a pity party, except the food feels heavy in your stomach, knowing the man you were avoiding was the one who bought it—bring on the guilt. 
“I’ll talk to him tomorrow.”
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You’re a dirty liar and horrible friend 2.0. Why this time? Because tomorrow stretched out a few more days than planned. It wasn’t entirely intentional at first, getting stuck at work longer than usual and missing the weekly hangout at your place where you got your remote covered in cheeto dust as you argued over what to watch. But it trickled down onto shorter replies to his texts, or you scrambling out of your apartment and into the elevator so fast in order to not run into him, your mind still trying to list all the pros and cons to this potential relationship before you even had the guts to confess to your feelings. 
Jungkook didn’t know thats what was occupying your mind, no he was currently thinking the worst. He notices the change instantly, recognizing it because this was the exact way you had acted while you were with Hajoon, right before you broke the news to him that you needed to keep some distance while you focused on your relationship. So Jungkook automatically assumes that your sudden change in behavior after going on a single date with Jung Hoseok, was because you wanted to make your relationship with this man work. 
His assumption stings—a lot actually—and soon enough he stops initiating conversations altogether. He didn’t want to hear you tell him you had to distance yourself again, he’s not sure his heart could handle that a second time, so he decides to get ahead of the curb and take a massive step away from you. It hurts him to know you’re right next door, and just like before, it’s like you’re back to being total strangers. 
Safe to say Jungkook was currently going on his own downward spiral. 
You could text him like nothing had happened and he’d accept it with open arms, but instead you text your best friend an SOS text, begging her to meet you at your place. She calls you dramatic at first, but once you say it’s about Jungkook she shows up at your place in record time. 
“Did you finally fuck him?” Is her greeting of choice, spoken shamelessly from the hallway with no worry about her volume. She cackles when you yank the bottle of wine from her grasp and tug her into your apartment, letting the door slam behind her. 
“You’re lucky he’s not home you bitch.” An eye roll is her only response, yanking the bottle back and making her way into your kitchen to grab the opener. 
“So you didn’t fuck him?” The cork pops at her question, a curious glance staring you down as she pours the red liquid into an oversized cup. 
“No Seulgi, I didn’t fuck him. But I did...something.” It makes your face warm up as you remember it, gratefully grabbing the cup she hands your way because you definitely need some liquid courage before confessing to your sins.
She hums in thought as she raids your pantry for something to munch on, settling on a bag of mini pretzels before leading you to your couch, needing to know the gossip that led to your sos text. “Okay, did you accidentally send him a nude then?”
“No, that wouldn’t be so bad I think?” Sending him an accidental nude would be laughable, probably resolved by a few screaming texts and dumb jokes before moving on. But new feelings seeing the light of day seemed so much worse. “But I sort of kissed him at a club a few weeks ago to get back at Hajoon—long story,” you cut in when you see her ready to fire off questions. 
“And then I went on that failed Tinder date I told you about, and when I got home I sort of heard him, you know,”— you mimic a jerking off motion with your hand and ignore her lewd gasp, “and then I…” you trail off shamefully. 
“No!” she gasps even louder, hand pressed to her mouth and eyes wide. 
“Yes! And the fucking orgasm opened my eyes and made me realize that maybe that tiny crush you guys always joke about him having is real, and maybe I have a tiny crush on him too.”
“Does he know?”
“That I like him?”
“No, that you rubbed one out while listening to him you dirty slut!” Oh she’s loving this, leaning back into your cushions with a handful of pretzels resting on her boobs, a sly smile on her lips as she takes a sip of her wine. She’s the one who planted the seed in your mind, playfully joking about Jungkook any chance she got, saying he had the hots for you because she enjoyed the flustered look on your face. No doubt would she text the group chat with the news the second you finish this cry for help. 
“Do you think I told him? I can barely come to terms with the fact that I like him. Like what am I supposed to do?”
She sighs dramatically, munching on the final pretzel on her tits before sitting up and dusting off the crumbs from her shirt. “Look, I know you’re just realizing that he likes you so this is still new and fresh for you, but we’ve noticed it for years. It’s fine that you didn’t see it, you had other things occupying your mind.” 
You frown as you stare at the rug beneath your feet, remembering how life was when you first moved into this complex. Getting out of a previous relationship weeks prior, when you had met Jungkook your mind was not interested in pursuing anything with him regardless of how cute you thought he was. It made it easier for you to form a friendship, not worried about trying to impress him, or flirt with him, allowing him to see you for who you truly are. 
Jungkook had his fair share of girlfriends during the years, none of which were entirely serious but by the time he was completely single you had met Hajoon, and he had accepted the fact that maybe you were better off as friends and he would just admire you from afar. That is, until you decided to plant one on him. So technically this is your fault. 
“Jungkook likes you okay, and I’m sure if you just marched next door and told him you like him too he’ll drop on one knee and marry you.”
“Shut up,” you snort, shoving her shoulder with a smile. 
“As a matter of fact, go over there right now!” She stands up from her spot, yanking your arms to haul you up with her. 
“I told you, he’s not home. But, I’ll tell him. I have to.”
Seulgi crosses her arms over her chest as she stares at you, clearly displeased that she wouldn’t be witness to this love story unfolding in real time. “You better. You never know what sneaky little bitch is trying to get him to get over you.”
The sneaky little bitch in question is Park Jimin, currently sitting directly across from Jungkook, guzzling down beer like his life depends on it. It's impressive really, how quickly he empties the cup, eyes shut looking as content as could be even in the dim lighting. Jungkook can only watch with a grimace as his friend sets the glass down and wipes at his mouth with no sense of table manners. 
“What?” he burps, proceeding to pour more of the golden liquid into his cup from the pitcher in the middle of the table. 
“I always forget how absolutely disgusting you are. How do you do it?” Jimin just frowns at the question, not entirely understanding so Jungkook continues. “What switch do you flip to go from sipping champagne to chugging beer like a fucking biker.”
“It’s a talent, I know.” He smiles wide, reaching forward to grip Jungkook’s hand and force him to grab his own cup. Condensation was pooling around the bottom from sitting there untouched, and that just wouldn’t do on Jimin’s watch. “C’mon, drink it!”
“Fine,” Jungkook grumbles, raising the glass and allowing Jimin to clank the cups together before taking a big gulp. He doesn’t clear the cup like his friend did seconds prior but it's enough to appease him. It tastes absolutely bitter the whole way down, settling into his stomach uncomfortably, and the look on his face as he pushes the glass away from him is very telling. 
Boisterous shouts fill the sports bar they were in, huddles of people surrounding the tables and booths as they watched the current soccer match playing on the televisions lining the walls. Jungkook honestly feels like a debby downer now, moping in his seat instead of enjoying the atmosphere with his friend like they normally did. The current game was definitely not the reason Jungkook had texted Jimin to grab drinks, no he needed an outlet to talk about you—preferably in a space that didn’t have walls as thin as his apartment.  
When he barely acknowledges the plate of wings set in front of him Jimin huffs, resisting the urge to dig in because he knew once he did he wouldn’t be able to focus on anything else. “Are you gonna be like this the entire time?”
“Like what?” Jungkook has the gall to ask, acting as if he wasn’t looking like a wounded animal. 
“Like you just discovered your wife of ten years is having an affair with your sister.”
He sits up straighter at that, eyes wide in disbelief. “Jesus.“
Jimin knew the jist of what was happening through the texts he had received the past week, but it seems like Jungkook didn’t want to jump into the topic of it at all now that they were sitting across from each other. He just sighs before deciding to be honest, wasting no time beating around the bush to hopefully be the voice of reason Jungkook needs. “You’ve been simping over her for years JK, and I get it, you think she could be the one. But what about you huh? It’s not fair for you to have your heart wrung out each time she gets a man and decides to put the friendship on pause—“
“That happened once!” He defends, brows pinched on his forehead as he shakes his head, ready to explain your situation because he wasn’t a fan of hearing his friend say anything about you when he didn’t truly know what happened. “The dude was a piece of shit and basically told her it was him or me. I’m not gonna crucify her for wanting a long term relationship to work.”
“Right, so she’s not icing you out again because she got a new man? That’s literally what you told me, it’s why I bought you this sympathy pitcher of beer!”
“Fuck you, you bought this pitcher for yourself.” Jimin had chugged two giant glasses of beer already, and was steadily working on his third, whereas Jungkook’s watered down cup remained relatively untouched. “Besides, I was just...spiraling and assumed when I sent you that desperate text. But I haven’t heard anything.”
Jimin can only stare blankly at the table as he processes what was just said before locking eyes with his friend once more, “Sorry, what? You haven’t heard anything? The hell kind of riddle is that.”
Jungkook sinks into the booth with a look of shame, not wanting to admit to occasionally laying in his bed at night in complete and total silence just to see if he could hear you and the hypothetical version of Jung Hoseok doing literally anything. It’s not one of his proudest moments, feeling like a bit of a creeper as he laid stiff on his bed, too scared to make a sound.  “Nothing, forget about it. Point is, I haven’t seen the fucker come in or out of her place, so what does that mean?”
A deep sigh comes from Jimin, hand reaching forward to push the beer closer to Jungkook, desperately trying to get him to drink and ease up. “It means you pay far too much attention to her. When was the last time you got any action?”
Two weeks ago. From his hand and filthy imagination. 
“A few months,” he grumbles, remembering his last hook up that happened a few days before he discovered you got dumped. 
“Get outta here.” Jimin rolls his eyes as he points to the door. “Literally, go stand at the corner outside, show some thighs or a tattooed titty and take your pick of the swarm of girls that will surely follow you.”
Jungkook thinks he’s joking, but when his friend doesn’t drop his hand and narrows his eyes threateningly he knows he’s being serious. “My tits aren’t even tattooed,”—his large palms press against his shirt covered chest as if to prove a point— “And you sound like a douchebag talking like this.”
“What? She went on a tinder date and definitely got laid, so you need to even out the playing field. Also, it might help you chill the hell out.”
“Oh my god, you’re not helping.” Jungkook really didn’t need that visual again, it had flashed in his mind too often the night of his pity party and now it was once again at the front of his brain. 
“Alright, okay. I’m throwing out my safe word right now.” Jimin leans closer, arms resting on the table with a confused look on his face. “What do you need from me here? Like, do I play the role of a supportive friend who wants you to get over her, or do I play the role of a friend who wants you to confess? Because you’re giving me some mixed signals Jeon.”
A groan escapes Jungkook, fingers rubbing at his eyes before dragging down his face as he sinks even further into his seat. “I don’t know.” 
It’s the truth. Jungkook had no idea what he wanted his friend to do to help him. He knew that although his feelings for you have weighed heavy on his chest for what seems like years, you technically had no idea, so he feels a little guilty over his frustration for the whole situation. You were newly single again and determined to go through this self proclaimed wild phase so Jungkook isn’t dumb enough to think you can’t go out and do whatever you want, even if that means being with someone who isn’t him. 
“Look,” Jimin sighs, pulling him out of his thoughts. “You only have two choices here, tell her how you feel and accept whatever comes with it, or make peace with the idea of just being friends. Either way, I think you need to loosen up and have fun tonight.”
“Yeah, you’re right.” Jungkook sits himself up, wrapping his fingers around the cup in an effort to at least look like he wanted to be here. He couldn’t sit here and mope about a problem like this when he hadn’t attempted to come out and tell you how he feels. 
One night of loosening up to get you off his mind wouldn’t hurt, if anything it might help him come to his senses. At least that’s what Jimin was currently whispering with a mischievous smile on his lips. “It’ll be fine, I’ll make sure you don’t black out and get home safe. Who knows, you might get plastered enough to drunk text your confession.”
Jungkook glares at his friend, not liking the goofy look on his face as he starts to laugh. “I swear to god, you better not let me get to that point. Take my phone away from me.”
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Jimin obviously wants to see the world burn, or at least he enjoys it when Jungkook somehow digs himself into his own grave. That's exactly why he responds with a million laughing emojis when Jungkook texts him asking why the hell he hadn’t taken his phone last night. 
He did a good job hiding his shock when a knock came from his front door, half expecting it to be you, keeping a smile on his face as he allowed  the person who was very clearly not you in before swiftly entering his bathroom. Jungkook wants to stay locked here forever, holed up while he sits on his toilet and not in the living room with company. It wasn’t like it was bad company either, his drunken ass going through his contact list and sending an invitation to hangout the following day to the last person he spoke to, Aillie. 
The girl is sweet, someone he had a casual fling with for months, someone who was used to his random texts so she doesn’t think twice before agreeing. The only silver lining to this was that he hadn’t sent you a typo-filled drunken confession, which is what Jimin responds with before telling him to suck it up and leave his bathroom. 
Jungkook accepts his fate, as well as accepting that he is partially responsible for this. He shoves his device back into his pockets before standing up and flushing the toilet for show, washing his hands just to stall. One good glance at his reflection makes him cringe, stained shirt and sweats combo leaves him looking like the unprepared mess he is. Another detour through his room to change was a must before he has no choice but to step back out. 
“You’re totally hung over aren’t you?” Aillie jokes from her spot on the couch, comfortable enough in his apartment from the time spent here. She locks her phone as she stands up, taking her time to really look Jungkook over. He was not dressed like someone who was expecting a guest, and despite having seen Jungkook at his sloppiest, his previous attire of oversized shirt and slightly stained sweatpants didn’t look like someone who was expecting a fuck buddy to pop over. Even with his new outfit looking more put together, it was obvious Jungkook was caught off guard by her showing up. 
“What?” Jungkook dumbly asks, trying to come up with some lame excuse to justify his earlier appearance but he falls short. His fingers gently rake through his hair, a grimace falling on his face as he looks back up at her. “Actually, a little. Sorry, I got drunk last night when I text you so sober me was not really prepared.”
“Yeah I figured, you sent me some blurry selfies right after. But we can just hang, we don’t have to do anything,” she trails off, a soft smile on her lips. The only time they ever hung out was to hook up, having ten minute conversations before and after the fact. “Or I can leave too if it's weird that I’m here.” 
Jungkook is shaking his head before she can even finish, already feeling bad enough after texting her to come over. How shitty would he be if he immediately kicked her out. This was fine, a nice distraction from it all, decent middle ground that would help him get his mind off you without having to take Jimin’s douchebag advice. 
“No, we can watch a movie or something. It’s not like I have other plans.” Had this been two weeks ago it would be a totally different story. Jungkook would typically be waiting in his apartment as he stared at the slowly ticking clock, just waiting for it to strike 7:30 because that's when you usually got home. Then he’d either get a text from you to come over with snacks or you’d show up at his door and invite yourself over for the weekly game night. 
It didn’t happen last week, or the week prior, so Jungkook is very confident that it would not be happening today either. It’s that same sense of confidence—and saltiness—that allows him to get comfortable with Aillie, blissfully unaware that you had just pulled into the parking garage a few stories below. 
“I swear to god if you don’t go straight to his door the minute you get off the elevator I will never let you live it down.” Seulgi’s voice fills your car through the speakers, fading out as you shut the car off and bring your phone to your ear to continue the conversation. 
“Dude, I just got off work. I need to make myself look decent.” Plastic bags rustle together as you grab the snacks you had picked up on your way home, all full of yours and Jungkook's favorite treats. It was definitely a guilt fueled purchase, hoping the items were enough to distract him from the fact that you were kind of a bitch for ghosting him recently, or at least butter him up into accepting your apology easier. 
“You think Jungkook cares if you’re a little sweaty from work? He’s a grown man, that’s not gonna stop him from going do—“
“Okay, goodbye!” You hastily cut her off as you press the elevator button, hearing her rambling off about being interrupted. “I’m about to get on the elevator, I’ll tell you how it goes.”
With a small sigh you hang up and stuff the device into your purse, stepping onto the lift as the doors open up and pressing the number for your floor. Your hands are clammy as you grip the plastic bag, uncharacteristically nervous about seeing Jungkook again after so long. 
The main obstacle for you to get over was apologizing for being a crappy friend, and if that went well you were going to suck it up and just come out and confess, the odds of him saying no were slim. And even if he did, you’re perfectly content with staying friends, as long as you could keep him close. 
It’s that same optimistic mentality that allows you to calm down as you enter your place and decide to give yourself a minute to mentally prepare. His favorite ice cream gets put into the freezer for later before you decide to shower and give yourself a pep talk the entire time. 
This pep talk of yours is filled with best case scenarios: Jungkook accepting the confession with open arms, finally being able to kiss him properly, everything falling into place the way it should have a long time ago. And as you head over, totally sober, freshly washed, looking and smelling your best, you really can’t picture this going any other way. 
With a deep breath you’re knocking on his front door, quickly pulling back your hand and wiping it onto your pants as you step back. Jungkook hears the knock clearly from his spot on the couch, his gaze tearing away from the television to stare at his front door with a small frown. He hadn’t ordered any food and Aillie had just excused herself to use his bathroom so his brain is having a hard time wondering who it could be. 
He curses under his breath, not putting it past himself to have texted a second person last night with an invitation to hang out. Why was Jungkook a friendly drunk?
As he presses his eye against the peephole and spots you standing there, he thinks he’s imagining things. It had seemed like so long since he had last seen you in person, and the warped fish-eyed version of you has him stepping back and rubbing his eyes before taking another glance. He suddenly feels like throwing up, and he can’t blame his earlier hangover on it. 
For a brief second he contemplates pretending he hadn’t heard you, but the guilt of doing so makes his heart twist, so he musters up the courage to open the door. It’s barely a crack really, just enough for you to see him while still concealing his apartment, something you definitely found strange because you’re usually flinging the door open and strutting right in, but you suppose his reaction is warranted considering your previous behavior. 
“Y/N, hey. Are you alright?”
“Huh? Yeah, I’m fine!” Your fingers tangle together in front of you, not entirely sure what to do with your nerves and Jungkook spots it easily. His own nerves sky rocket when he hears the sound of running water coming from his bathroom a few feet away, knowing Aillie would most likely pop out any second now, and he’s not sure why it feels like a dirty secret that he has another girl over. 
“Did you need something?”
“Yeah, I was actually wanting to talk to you about something kind of important.” Your smile is hopeful, despite the nerves swirling in your eyes. The nervous skip of your heart is felt in your throat, not remembering the last time you had felt this way about telling someone how you felt about them romantically. 
“Right now?” he wonders, fingers gripping the door handle tighter when he hears his bathroom door unlock, the sound of footsteps rounding the corner before stepping into the living room, a few feet away from the door and in perfect view of the wedge Jungkook had opened. 
When your eyes flicker over his shoulder, spotting the auburn haired girl giving you a curious glance, you feel all your confidence slip away. Seulgi had definitely been right about needing to confess soon, Jungkook was a catch and just because you hadn’t realized it sooner didn’t mean the rest of the world was blind to it. 
“Yeah, right now...but you’re busy, so it’s fine!” You want to scramble away from there, feeling dumb the longer you stand there. Jungkook wants to say he’s not busy, kick the girl out of his place and invite you in but that wouldn’t be fair to her, for all he knew your important conversation would be a repeat of the conversation you had over Hajoon, and he really didn't want to get friendship dumped while this girl was in his apartment. He’s pretty sure his Yelp rating would drop a bit if he cried on the couch about you to his old hook up. 
He starts to speak but you cut him off before he can, “Don’t worry about it! I’ll see you later.” You force a smile before walking away, not allowing him to get a word in as you quickly step into your apartment and move to the furthest room away from your bedroom. 
You can feel the cold of your kitchen floor as you sit on your butt, back against your cabinets, the small twinge of defeat spreading within you. “This is fine. Maybe she’s just a friend. I can always tell him tomorrow,” you whisper out. But your fingers seem to think otherwise as they type out a message to Seulgi, informing her that the mission was unsuccessful and you’d be putting on The Notebook like you always did. It was basically protocol to do so when things went south in your life. 
She doesn’t even know how to console you, knowing she can’t tell you it was his loss or that he wasn’t worth it because she knows that’d be a lie and you wouldn’t believe it for a second. The only thing she can offer is coming over, but you’re quick to turn her down, deciding that being alone in the comfort of your bed as you inhaled the ice cream you bought for Jungkook would be best. 
Is being in your room the wisest choice when you know you share a wall with Jungkook—and he has a cute girl over? No. Probably not. But you figure if you hear anything explicit it’s just your dose of karma, so you accept it, turning up the volume of the movie a few levels just to soften the blow. 
However, Jungkook would definitely not be hooking up with her in his bedroom, or anywhere in his apartment for that matter. Luckily Aillie is blessed with the gift of reading the damn room and can easily spot the shift in Jungkook’s mood the second he shuts the door. She’s sitting on the edge of the couch now, hands gently placed on her knees as she gives him a sympathetic smile. 
“I get the vibe that somethings off.”
He looks up at her then, slowing his pace until he’s awkwardly standing in the middle of the room with his hands shoved deep into his pockets. “My friend—my neighbor just wanted to talk about something. But everything’s fine.”
The lie tastes bitter on his tongue, and Aillie doesn’t believe him in the slightest. A small sigh fills the air as she stands up, collecting her bag and approaching him. “Look, I know deep talks really aren’t our thing so I’m not going to even try to dive into this, but you should go talk to your friend.”
A comforting hand is placed on his shoulder before she makes her way to the door to leave, Jungkook already following closely behind her. “No, you don’t have to go. You came all this way because I texted you with way too much tequila in my system.”
“Jungkook,” she laughs, opening the door with a smile. “You’re way too sweet for your own good. It was nice seeing you though.” Her eyes slowly move over to your front door before looking back at him, head cocking to the side in a very clear indication that he better go over. He can only nod in understanding, waving her goodbye and shutting the door once she heads down to the elevator. 
The action sounds of the movie they were watching continues to fill his apartment, whatever chaos was going on only making his brain whirl so he’s quick to grab the remote and shut it off entirely. Now he’s just stuck in complete silence, wondering if he should quickly make his way over to yours or play it calm and collected. 
The total silence allows him to hear the muffled mumbling of a movie he knew all too well. It draws him in, lures him into his bedroom until he’s kneeling on the mattress with his ear pressed against the wall to properly make it out. You were watching the Notebook, at a concerning volume, which could mean a number of things. Jungkook knew none of them were good, usually rooted in issues you had with your ex, or a tough day at work, or any particular day where you just felt like crying. 
With a deep breath, he’s slowly knocking along his wall, almost experimentally, hoping it's enough to grab your attention through the current scene playing. For a second he thinks maybe you’ve fallen asleep while watching the film, but then the room falls silent as you pause it entirely. 
Your hearts racing now, ears straining to hear anything else and hoping this wasn’t how the beginning of the explicit noises would start, but then another knock comes from behind you. It makes you gasp, like you’ve just been caught being the nosey neighbor you are, hearing the soft scrape of his hand sliding down the wall. The ice cream gets put onto your nightstand as you sit up properly, forcing yourself out of the mountain of pillows you were practically suffocating in and turning around to knock back.
Jungkook’s palm presses back onto the wall, smiling at your response before fishing his phone out of his pocket. His fingers find your thread of messages, further down the list than he was used to, and as he opens them up and sees the string of unanswered texts dating back to two weeks ago, it stings just like it did before. He pushes his pride aside though, knowing you had wanted to talk today in person, so he proceeds to quadruple text you. 
Jungkook 8:44pm : are you seriously watching the notebook again?
You’re unlocking your phone the second it buzzes, smiling at the dimly lit screen before typing out a response. 
Y/N 8:45pm : shut up, it’s my comfort movie
Y/N 8:45pm : do you wanna watch it with me? for old times sake
The device is locked and placed face down onto your sheets the second you hit send, sinking into the pillows once again as you try not to scream at yourself because you know he’ll hear you. Why would you invite him over when he clearly has company? You had seen her with your own eyes, had seen how cute she is, had seen how cute Jungkook is, it doesn’t take a genius to put two and two together. 
Jungkook is quick though, texting back in agreement and heading over instantly. If you were watching your comfort movie then Jungkook wanted to make sure you were okay. Putting the past two weeks behind him, knowing you’d most likely have a good enough explanation—an explanation he would definitely be needing before the night was over—he’s knocking on your door before you can even check your messages. 
It takes you a minute to untangle your limbs from your covers as you hastily try to get to your door, sock clad feet sliding along your wooden floors when you finally yank the door open. Jungkook wears a soft smile as he stares down at you, taking note that you had switched your outfit to your usual sad movie binge attire of baggy shirt and lounge shorts. His eyes zero in on your lips when he notices there's something lingering at the corner of them. 
“So, are you gonna share whatever the hell that is?” His finger points at it smugly, laughing when your tongue peeks out to wipe it away. 
“It was actually meant to be for you.” Stepping aside, you let him enter your place. Jungkook almost feels a little strange being here after the weird few weeks, but he pushes it aside, just wanting things to feel normal. 
“Does that mean there’s no more left?” His eyes playfully narrow at you as you step closer, moving on to stare at the kitchen table, and the coffee table in search of the tub of ice cream that supposedly had his name on it. The earlier nerves you felt slowly fade away when you realize he’s not visibly upset about what happened, but it only makes your guilt deepen that despite your ability to be a crummy friend, Jungkook would still try his best to come through for you. 
“There’s about half of it left, it’s probably a little soft now though.” You side step him to enter the kitchen, grabbing an extra spoon and handing it over as a peace treaty, smiling when he gratefully accepts it. “C’mon, I paused the movie.”
Jungkook is not a stranger to your bedroom, especially when sappy movies were playing, finding his spot easily on the right side where he typically handed you tissues whenever you cried. The tissues were missing this time, in place of them being the bag of snacks you had bought, his ice cream on the other nightstand. 
“What part are you on?” he asks, settling onto the bed after fluffing up the pillows, waving his hands so you could pass the tub of ice cream his way. 
“It just started raining on the boat.” Jungkook hums, scooping out some of the chocolate ice cream and into his mouth. He knew this scene very well, and when you press play, he mentally repeats all of the lines. Just as Noah declares he wrote her 365 letters, you awkwardly clear your throat, your own spoon slowly sneaking over to his side to steal some ice cream for yourself. 
“I’m sorry if I made things awkward with your date.” Your voice sounds timid, something he’s not used to hearing from you at all, so he chuckles, laughing harder when you swat at his arm. “I’m serious, I should have texted you before just showing up.”
“Really? When have you ever done that before?” The two of you never notified the other when they wanted to show up, Jungkook had even given you the code to his place once when he was at work and you were desperate for some fruity pebbles—you used that code to your advantage and Jungkook never hated it. But all things considered, it's fair why you think you would have to give him a heads up. 
“You didn’t make it awkward though.” It’s not the complete truth, you coming over is what had made Aillie decide to leave, but Jungkook had to take most of the credit for it. “I kinda made it awkward from the beginning.”
“Why, what happened?”
“I went out last night with Jimin“ —you immediately hum in understanding, knowing very well how convincing Jimin could be with alcohol— “and apparently I texted her to hang out today, had no recollection, so when she showed up I was definitely not ready.”
“Damn, this is how I know you’re a better person than I am. If that happened to me, the second I checked my peephole and saw someone I didn’t remember inviting over, I’m gonna pretend I’m not home.”
“Yeah well, she lives like an hour away so I’d feel like an ass if I did that. Don’t think I’ll be talking to her again any time soon though.” He sighs in thought, gently tapping his spoon on the surface of the softening ice cream. There was one thing weighing heavy on his mind, needing to know what important thing you had to talk to him about, wondering if you were actually going to friendship dump him earlier and he had just made it worse by coming over and hanging out like old times. 
He doesn’t want to come right out and ask it though, not wanting to set himself up for an awkward conversation in case that wasn’t what you wanted to talk about, so he settles for something safe enough that would allow him to get a glimpse. 
“So how are things with Hoseok?” Yeah, that’s a good start. 
“Huh?” Your spoon freezes in its spot, face clearly looking confused in the dim glow of the television, the movie long forgotten now that you were speaking. 
“Tinder guy? Yellow sunglasses guy that gave you mono?” 
It suddenly clicks again, having forgotten all about Jung Hoseok the second you had gotten home from the failed date and came to terms with your feelings. Your lie of having a cold must have been believable enough for Jungkook to genuinely think he had given you something like mono. 
“He didn’t give me mono!” Jungkook rolls his eyes with a playful smile, humming along like he totally believes you. “But I didn’t tell you?”
He frowns as he stares at you, not entirely sure how to take your tone. “Tell me what? That you’re engaged and the wedding is in June?”
“No way,” you laugh, swatting his spoon away with a clank as you grab some ice cream before shoving it in your mouth, fighting against the brain freeze to continue speaking. “Our date was a bust.”
“How? Was it that bad?” He desperately wanted to know, having convinced himself the date had gone spectacularly well and you were now an exclusive item. The small twinge of guilt is felt when he realizes he’s a little too happy that the date had been a failure, but he allows himself to have this small, tiny victory. 
“Mm, it was so good it was bad.” He looks utterly confused, and you don’t blame him, so you elaborate. “He was this perfect gentleman who just wanted to play games, like to the point where he had a notebook where he was tallying our points, and then he walked me to my car and kissed my cheek goodbye.”
“Oh the horror!” Jungkook gasps, setting his spoon down to clutch his heart in dramatics. “How dare he try to romance you with a game night.”
“Jungkook, shut up!” you laugh, finally feeling like everything was right again, sitting in bed with your closest friend as you teased each other. “Look, I’ll give him some credit. The date was nice, he was not the sleazy douchebag his profile made him out to be, and I’m sure he’ll find the perfect girl for him on Tinder. But he clearly wanted something serious and—“
“And you don’t want that right now. It’s fair.” Of course you would turn him down, you had just decided to embark on this new adventure in the single world. It was kind of dumb for Jungkook to assume one date with Tinder Boy would be enough for you to give up your short lived dream. 
You take a steady breath at his words before taking another scoop of ice cream, lips wrapped around the spoon as you slowly pull it out of your mouth. The nerves are trickling back in, making your heart skip and your eyes bounce around. If you don’t come out and say it now, you know you never will. 
Your spoon joins his in the tub of ice cream before you decide to move it back to the nightstand, forcing yourself to look back at him, seeing him turned away as he rummages through the plastic bag full of snacks. “I don’t want that with him.”
Jungkook freezes, the rustling of plastic ceases as his hands come back to his sides and he turns back around. With him. He was the king of jumping to worse case scenarios so his brain has no issues coming to this very horrible conclusion. 
“Have you been talking to Hajoon again?”
“No, Jungkook I haven’t.”
“Are you sure? I’m saying this now, but if you get back with him I will not hesitate to pop him in the face if I run into him in the halls. It’s fair game out there, neutral territory for him to get his ass beat—“
“It’s you.”
His brain short circuits at that, mini versions of himself currently running around and screaming in his head as he tries to make sense of this. The first instinct he has is to crack a joke, to say that he hadn’t been talking to Hajoon again, and laugh it off. But you look a little too vulnerable right now, eyes nervously looking at him and then looking away at his lingering silence. 
“Wait, what?” It’s the only thing he can sputter out, caught off guard by your words, not wanting to say anything else in case the world was cruel enough for him to have completely misheard you. 
“I don’t want that with Tinder Boy or Hajoon, I want it with you.” It gets a little easier saying it a second time, but his reaction is hard to gauge. You had been expecting him to reciprocate the confession instantly, but the longer he looked shocked only made you think that you and Seulgi had been seriously wrong about his supposed crush. 
Jungkook is having a difficult time trying to go from you ghosting him to you suddenly admitting to liking him, the change in emotions not allowing him to say anything he had practiced in the mirror for so long. He can’t come out and give you a speech about how he thinks you’re the one, how you’re obviously a good match together, brain too focused on other details. “How long have you known this?”
“For the past two weeks, but deep down I know it’s been longer.”
His wide eyes glance over at you now, everything slowly clicking into place. “Is this why you’ve been avoiding me?”
“Yes,” you mumble, embarrassed over the way you had acted. The last time you had avoided someone was in elementary school, having a best friend go ask your crush if he likes you while you hid in the bathroom, scared of the answer. “I like you Jungkook and I knew I wouldn’t be able to play it cool. I was scared to say something and have you not feel the same and then have our friendship be weird.”
Jungkook smiles in that adorable way you love, nose scrunching up cutely as he leans closer, large palms coming to cup your cheeks. He has wanted to hear this for so long, and sure, maybe it wasn’t some super romantic confession over a candlelit dinner like he had occasionally dreamed of, but this felt right. 
“You’re so stupid,” he whispers out, thumb softly caressing your cheek as he chuckles, feeling the way your lips turn into a frown at his harmless insult. 
“Jungkook, I’m being serious,” you whine, heart still pounding in your chest. Your hands come up to gently wrap around his wrists, allowing him to continue to squish your cheeks with that endearing look on his face. 
“I’m being serious too Y/N. Did you really think I wouldn’t feel the same?” Jungkook did everything he did with you out of pure friendliness, never expecting to get something in return from it, but there was a small sprinkling of a crush in every one of his actions. “I like you too, and I have for a really long time.”
The relief you feel comes instantly, lips slowly pulling into a smile when you finally have the confidence to look directly into his eyes again. If this is how light you feel after the two weeks spent freaking out, you can only imagine how Jungkook feels. “Really?”
“Yes, really. Now, can I please kiss you?” You’re nodding the second the question leaves his mouth, eyes fluttering shut as his hands glide down to cup your jaw, soft lips slowly pressing against yours. It’s a gentle smack of skin as he pulls back, a smirk on his lips when he opens his eyes, softly rubbing his nose against yours. 
“Wait,” he breathes out, chuckling softly. “Is he still looking?” He has the nerve to repeat the same question that had been the root of your guilt, and when your eyes shoot open and glare at him, he can’t stop the laughter that bubbles out. 
“I hate you,” you mutter out, not an ounce of truth behind it. 
“Mm, no you don’t.” 
His lips find yours again, falling into a steady rhythm, softer and less rushed than the first kiss you had shared at the club. There’s no pounding bass in the background, or the taste of liquor on your lips, but Jungkook prefers it this way. He likes the low hum of the movie continuing to play in the background, the sweetness of the ice cream lingering on your lips when his tongue gently swipes at the seam of them, the way your hands slowly slide around his neck as he deepens each kiss. 
With each shared breath, you slide further down your bed, pulling Jungkook down with you until he’s hovering directly above you. His knees dig into the sheets, one hand pressed beside your head to keep himself stable as you urge him even closer to you. The delicate golden chain he wears kisses your skin, pendant settling onto your chest, the cool sensation is almost enough to distract you as his tongue slowly slips into your mouth. Jungkook groans when you let out a small gasp, your fingers slipping into his hair and tugging gently at the strands by the nape of his neck. 
He wants to remember this kiss instead of the one from the club, embed every gasp you let out into his brain, the way your chest pushes up to feel more of him, how your hands slide down his back, leaving a fiery trail in their path that makes Jungkook shiver. And when you slide your thighs further apart for him, innocently at first, he can’t help it when his lips freeze on yours as you slowly roll your hips upwards. It gives him the same automatic reaction he had gotten at the club, all the blood rushing to his cock instantly, except this time he doesn’t feel the shame he had felt before. There was no ulterior motive to what you were doing, sincerity shown in your confession, shared within each kiss, so Jungkook allows himself to bask in the want he feels for you.
“Y/N,” he groans out when you repeat the action, pulling away from your swollen lips to stare at you through hooded eyes. You’re licking your lips over as your eyes slowly open, a small glimmer evident in them as you tilt your head and pretend to not know what you’re doing.
“What?” you question, leaning up to kiss the edge of his mouth, giggling when he attempts to chase your lips as you pull back, choosing to kiss down his jaw instead. As your tongue gently trails along the side of his neck, you feel the harsh gulp he takes, his fingers bunching up in the sheets beside your head. His neck has always been a weak point for him, turning him into a puddle in seconds, you knew this from the unfiltered conversations you’ve had and it was something you were definitely going to be using to your advantage. 
“You’re doing this on purpose,” he grunts, eyes fluttering shut as you nip at his skin, a visible shiver racking through him. 
“Of course I am,” you hum, letting your hands roam his back, sliding around his front until you’re sneaking past the white fabric of his shirt. When your cool hands meet his skin, he tenses, the muscles on his stomach tightening up as your fingertips trail up his body. You’ve known Jungkook was well defined, lean and toned in all the best places, having seen him shirtless a few times. But being able to touch him like this, feel each stuttered breath and jump of his skin reacting to your touch fueled you. 
Jungkook knows you can feel the racing of his heart now, your palms flat on his chest, each thrum revealing his emotions despite the cool and calm exterior he was trying to have. His hips lower towards yours, resisting the urge to rut into you as you start to suck on his skin. The low hum you let out vibrates against his neck, mixed in with the feeling of your wet lips, and he knows he’s done for. The final blow comes in the form of you swiping your tongue at the blossomed hickey, sweet voice pulling him back to earth as you look at him once more. “I want you Jungkook.”
Oh god, he couldn’t do this. His face pulls into a grimace, begging himself to not instantly cum in his pants at what you just said. How many times has he fantasized about this? Hoped you’d beg him for anything in that same exact voice, dreamed of you kissing and sucking on his skin like you currently were. Jungkook isn’t sure any amount of mental preparation would be enough for this. 
“Say that again please.”
You giggle, finger pushing back a strand of his hair as it falls over his face, tucking it behind his ear. The normal doe eyed look you were accustomed to is nowhere to be found, pupils blown out in lust as he stares at you. Being on the receiving end of this stare fills your stomach with butterflies, the flapping of their wings intensifying as he nudges his nose into yours. 
“I want you.” It’s breathless, spoken so softly through the background noise like a personal secret just for him. Jungkook doesn’t think he’ll ever grow tired of hearing you say it, that much is proven true when you repeat it in between kisses, trailing back up his neck in the same path you had taken until you're speaking the words directly against his lips. He swallows them down greedily, groaning into your mouth when his tongue tangles with yours once more. 
“Fuck, you can have me baby.” He chuckles against your mouth when you start to tug at his shirt, yanking the thin material until he has to pull back and slip the tee off himself. The balled fabric gets tossed aside without a care, dark swirls of ink on his arm fully revealed now, each tattoo reminding you of how long you’ve known him, remembering the two pieces that he had when you first met. When he leans back over you, taking his time trailing kisses down your neck, onto your chest until his own hands are slowly tugging your shirt off of you, you decide there’s other things to focus on besides his glorious tattoos.
“Ah, Jungkook,” you sigh, fingers tangling into his hair when he kisses the swells of your breast, warm tongue sliding over your nipple before his lips are wrapping around it. His large palm gropes the other, thumb flicking over the pebbled bud, smirking when you push your chest further out for him.
“What baby?” He pulls back to blow a gust of cool air on your nipple, the wetness of his saliva making your skin break out into goosebumps. 
“No teasing.”
Jungkook’s laughing now, eyes peering up at you through his lashes. “Oh, you think I’m not gonna tease you after what you did?” He tsks in disapproval as he continues to kiss down your torso, letting his hands trail down your sides, not stopping until he reaches the hem of your shorts. A kiss is placed above your navel as he pulls the shorts down your legs, toying with the waistband of your black underwear. “I’m gonna take my time with you.”
The build up before pleasure will always be your favorite part. The way his hands grip your thighs after tugging your underwear off, fingertips trailing up until his palm is pressing them further apart. It’s impossible to look at him now, the visual of his long hair framing his face as he starts to press wet kisses on your skin is too much to handle. You can feel the warm huff of air when he laughs as your head drops back onto the pillow once more, eyes slipping shut while you wait with anticipation. 
Jungkook wants to comment over how wet you are already, boost his own ego about being able to rile you up with just kissing, but he can see the way you’re already on edge, and he decides he can tease you some more later with what he has in store. Instead, he gives you what you’re mentally pleading him for. Finally pressing his soft lips to your folds, the short gasp you release as his tongue glides up before gently flicking across your clit has him shutting his own eyes, reveling in the way you react to his touch. 
His long fingers spread out your folds before he’s messily spitting onto them, watching the way the glob of saliva trickles down before he’s diving in, falling into the perfect pace with ease. It has your hips rutting up instantly, your hand uncurling its grip from your sheets to travel down your body and find its place tangled in his hair. Jungkook groans against your clit when your fingers grip tightly, yanking the dark strands as the prettiest moan flows out of you. 
“J-just like that, fuck,” you whimper, finally lifting your head up to stare down at him when he latches his lips around your clit and sucks. It sends a spark down your spine, stomach tensing at his rhythm, fully intent to have you fall apart. 
Jungkook wants to push you over the edge, knows he’s talented enough to get you there in record time—he was cocky in the best way—and the way your thighs tremble as he slowly sinks his finger into you proves his point. The slick coating your entrance allows a second finger to slip through with little resistance, a shuddering breath filling the air as he begins to spread his fingers apart, stretching you out in the most delicious way. 
It’s not until his fingers curl up, rubbing along the sweet patch inside of you and you moan out his name, that he realizes he has you right where he wants you. He can’t get himself to look up at you, to see the way your jaw drops as you plead for more. Jungkook knows if his eyes lock with yours too soon he’ll be too weak to be as cruel as he wants to be. 
The pleasure blooms inside you, hips rolling up into his in a way he welcomes, smirk spreading onto his lips when your moans get breathier. He eats you out with determination set in his brows, not satisfied until you’re tightening around his fingers, thighs threatening to close in on either side of his head. The messy way he slurps against you sends you reeling, rutting up into him with need, the wet thump of his fingers blending in with your moans of his name. 
“God, Jungkook, I’m gonna cum.” He believes you, eyes finally opening up to stare at you. The visual is enough to make his cock throb in his pants, your glassy eyed stare locked onto his, chest rising and falling in time with each choked breath. When he playfully winks at you, your walls pulse around him, seconds away from being pushed over the edge, and that’s when he pulls away. 
The warm glow of your orgasm approaching, just about to crest, gets ripped away from you instantly. It makes you gasp, thighs twitching as your hips attempt to push up back towards his mouth, but he’s having none of that. His shiny lips smile up at you innocently, head tilted to slowly kiss your trembling thighs, chuckling at the small cry of frustration you let out. 
“You taste good baby,” he hums, smooching the skin at the juncture of your thighs, circling around your clit without relieving the pressure you felt. The dull ache has your fingers releasing his hair in defeat, a frown etched onto your lips. 
“Jungkook, that’s mean,” you pant, sitting up and resting on your elbows to properly stare at him. 
“A little, but you deserved it don’t you think?” Jungkook didn’t want to tease you too much, he just wanted to get even for the past two weeks. “You could have had me between your thighs every single night if you would’ve said something soon, so I think you can be patient.”
A firm kiss is pressed to your swollen clit and it makes your whole body shudder, your head dropping back as you take a deep breath to control yourself. “I can’t be patient Kook,” you whine, head leveling back out to give him the most convincing stare you can muster. There's that crease between your brows that he likes when you pinch them together, hands gently raking through his hair, teeth pillowing out your lower lip as you bite down onto it. 
“Please, you can torture me later if you want but not now.” Your words have him cocking up his brow, hands once again gripping the meat of your thighs before he crawls back up your body. The feeling of his chain dragging up your skin has you shivering, breath catching in your throat when he hovers inches above you once more. 
“I’ll hold you to that,” he murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of your mouth before his hand slips between your thighs again. A groan reaches his ears as his fingers circle your clit, covered in your arousal and his saliva, gliding with ease as he works you back to your ruined orgasm. 
His lips find yours, swallowing down the moan you let out when he quickens his pace. You can taste yourself on his tongue, tangling with yours with more urgency than before, messy and desperate in a way that had more arousal gushing out of you. The earlier pleasure reignites inside you, your hands sliding around his neck to keep him close, kissing him with fervor, quiet moans and whimpers slipping past between each smack of your lips. 
“Jungkook,” you barely manage to squeal, a few more flicks needed to finally push you over the edge. Your lips are slick with spit as you pull back, jaw slack as you lose yourself in the feeling, and Jungkook easily bookmarks this into his brain to go back to and daydream of whenever he’s bored at work. Your eyes are squeezed shut as the feeling flows through you, not able to see how Jungkook stares at you in awe. 
“Holy shit,” he whispers, slowly pulling his hand away when you keen at the sensitivity, thighs twitching on the sheets as the pleasure rolls through you in waves. You’re looking up just in time to see him slip his messy fingers into his mouth, tongue licking them clean and savoring the taste of you. Just as he slides them back out, your fingers wrap around his wrist and lead them directly into your mouth, sinking onto them with your eyes locked on his own. 
Jungkook’s cock jumps in its confines when you suck, tip of your tongue circling his fingertips before popping them back out with a smirk. There’s a brief moment of shock on his features before he’s jumping into action, quickly unbuttoning his jeans in haste that left you giggling on your sheets. 
“What happened to patience?” you tease, laughing harder when he pauses with one foot stuck in the hole of his jeans, a playful glare thrown your way. 
“Oh, now you want patience?” He kicks his pants the rest of the way off, slowly shuffling towards you as he stands beside the bed in just his boxers. Your hands make grabby motions for him, reaching for the waistband of his underwear to tug them down, licking your lips over as his cock springs out. It bobs in the air for a second, thick and heavy, precum collecting at the tip with the prettiest veins on the underside of it. Of course Jungkook and his pretty privilege would have a dick worthy of leaving you speechless. 
Jungkook allows you to ogle at him, confidently wrapping his palm around the base of his cock, hissing slightly at the sensation as he looks down at it, allowing spit to accumulate behind his lips before a string of it escapes and lands right onto his length to help the glide of his palm. Your eyes widen at the sight, hand replacing his as he guides your motions, giving an experimental squeeze and enjoying how his abs tense up. 
“I’ve been patient for a long time Y/N. You said you want me right?” You’re nodding instantly, eyes looking away from his shiny length to stare up at him. “How do you want me?”
“Jungkook, just get over here.” He doesn’t resist when you let go of his cock, hands gripping his arm to yank him back onto the bed in a clumsy heap. His legs are a tangled mess, nearly ramming his forehead with yours from the force, shared laughter filling the air as you situate yourself. Jungkook had pictured this a thousand times and this is exactly how he imagined it, full of soft kisses, hushed laughter and goofy smiles, playfulness mixed in with lust all coming together perfectly to make the two of you. 
As he settles between your thighs, your sodden folds inches from his length, you can see the look on his face as his eyes glance in between both of your nightstands. Already knowing the question that was about to spill out, you beat him to the punch. “You don’t need one, if you don’t want to. I’m on birth control, and haven’t been with anyone since…” you trail off, not needing to specify.
Jungkook tries not to look too excited, really, but it’s hard. Every one of his lewd fantasies had involved being able to feel you entirely, and if your thoughts from that night were anything to go by, you definitely want the same. It takes him a second to speak, having to swallow properly to prevent himself from choking on his saliva and embarrassing himself in front of you. “I’m clean, I promise.”
“I trust you,” you smile, biting down onto your bottom lip as he fists his cock, slowly leading it to your dripping center. His free hand rests on your inner thigh, softly palming the skin as the head of his cock nudges against your entrance, pushing past the tight ring of muscles and into your heat. With his gaze locked down to where you connect, he sees inch by inch sink into you, finally bottoming out with a shared gasp.
Jungkook leans over you properly now, hand sliding up to lace with yours as the other rests beside your head, just taking a moment to enjoy the feeling of your velvety walls wrapped tightly around his cock. You welcome the stretch, the curve of his length inside you, how he cages you in with his body, eyes full of want staring directly at you, giving your hand a reassuring squeeze because he knows he can’t properly form a sentence right now. 
“Fuck me, please.” With his hips pressed flush against yours, he’s slowly inching back, letting you get used to his size with each thrust. It doesn’t take long before he’s rearing back entirely, thrusting forward with a wet squelch, corner of his lips curling up into a smirk when you moan out his name. Your hand curls around his shoulder, fingers digging into his back to keep yourself steady from the force of his hips. 
Each time the head of his cock would nudge against your bundle of nerves, your nails would sink into his skin, leaving half moon indents that left him groaning in pleasure. Jungkook hadn’t outright told you, but it had become increasingly obvious that he has a slight kink for pain, practically mewling above you as you scratch his back, fucking you with more determination than before. 
“You feel so good,” he rasps, slotting his lips with yours in a messy kiss. The back of your headboard starts to rattle against the wall, bouncing back in time with his hips, and it brings you back to the filthy thoughts you had before. How often you’d hear the same sounds on the opposite side, mixing in with the sharpness of skin connecting together, and you want it. So badly.
“J-jungkook,” you breathe out, letting him pepper more kisses onto you, hips never slowing down. “Can you do something for me?” The tone you use, coated in sugar so sweet he couldn’t say no even if he wanted to.
“Anything.”
It’s hard to concentrate on anything else while his cock continues to fuck into you, turning your mind into mush each time he sunk all the way in. He can see the way you try to focus, eyes falling shut with the cutest pout on your kiss swollen lips, finally grabbing onto the reigns of your mind as you spit it out. “Wanna feel you—fuck—spank me, please.”
Only then do his hips slow down, cock throbbing inside of you, fighting the urge to cum before fulfilling your request. The only confirmation that he was agreeing, wholeheartedly, comes when he pulls out of you, moving too quickly for you to protest at the loss of contact. The room spins for a second as his hands grip onto your hips and flip you over with ease, palms gripping the globes of your ass and softly patting them with a chuckle.
“Of course baby,” he murmurs, hooking his arm underneath your stomach to haul you up onto your knees, allowing you to steady yourself before he’s sliding into you once again. The change in position has you keening, his cock sinking deeper than before, the wetness dripping out of you helping him maintain the earlier pace he had. Your hands fist the sheets beneath you, back arching in ecstasy as he hits your g-spot with precision, a tiny shriek of his name making him smile.
Jungkook keeps you on edge, strong hands gripping the skin of your hips tightly, mouth dropping open while he pants at the way you pulse around his cock, leaving it coated in your slick. His hand slides down to your ass, a gentle touch being your only warning before he’s pulling his hand back and delivering a swift slap to your skin. Your reaction is immediate, an unrestrained moan sounding like music to his ears. The sharp sting spreads directly to your core, your head bowing forward as you mentally beg him for more, your wish being granted seconds later when he repeats it on the other side.
If the wet sounds of his cock fucking you weren’t filthy enough, the added slap of his palm across your ass definitely topped it off. Jungkook had never seen you so needy, thighs coated in your arousal, gushing around him each time he spanked you until you were creaming his cock. The greedy way your walls suck him in, wanting him closer, deeper than ever, left him mesmerized. 
His hand soothes the dull throb on your skin, a trembling breath reaching his ears as he leans over your back, lips kissing up your spine up until reaching your shoulder. Hot pants of breath hit your skin, making you shiver as his lips trail along the edge of your ear. “Feel good?”
“Y-yes,” you mewl, voice trembling from the pleasure, rutting your hips in time with his. 
Jungkook’s way of love was a breath of fresh air for you, rough enough to exhilarate you, the force of his hips leaving you scrambling for purchase to prevent you from face planting onto the sheets, gripping onto your hair and tugging it back with enough force to make your body tingle. But it was intertwined with adoration, sweet praise whispered into your ear, lacing his fingers with yours to let you feel secure.
“You’re never getting rid of me baby,” he groans out. The low rasp in his voice makes you tremble, neck straining from his grip in your hair but the burn feels too good to pull away. His small confession has your heart skipping, eyes slipping shut to bask in the overwhelming feeling surrounding you.
“Good,” you manage to pant, “would never dream of it.” After four years of friendship, the beginning stages of getting to know each other, figuring out the right ways to flow with your different personalities, it's all out of the way now, so it’s incredibly easy for you to picture a steady future with him. The breakfast gossiping, shameless club outings, chaotic game nights with snacks thrown at each other, you want everything you already have with him and more. What you have, so rooted in sincerity, built off mutual respect for each other, blossoming into love so pure, you can’t imagine having this with anyone else.
“Y/N,” he gasps, the pulsing of your walls bringing him closer to his climax. “I’m close.”
You can only hum in agreement, burying your face into your pillow when he releases the grip he has in your hair, nipples rubbing against the sheets in time with his thrusts, the sensitivity sending sparks throughout you. Both his hands grip your hips again, dimpling the skin as he quickens his pace, the tantalizing roll of his hips intent to send you over before him. His eyes trail over the curve of your back, how you arch it further to feel more of him, sliding down to your ass, seeing the way it bounces back with each snap of his hips, how you weakly rut back onto him, pussy clamping around his length as your orgasm approached. 
Jungkook slides his hand around you, trailing across your tummy before slipping between your thighs to the spot you needed him most. Even with your face buried in the sheets, the moan you let out is loud enough for Jungkook to hear perfectly, body shuddering as he flicks across your clit in tight circles.  
“Kook, I’m cumming—fuck,” you shout out, white heat enveloping your body as you get sent over the edge. Your mind blanks for a minute, the intensity of your orgasm crashing over you so suddenly, making your limbs tense up while every nerve ending lights up. The only thing you can think of is him, chanting out your name while you pulse around him, sweet words coaxing you through your high, thumb rubbing along the skin of your hips as he never slows his pace. 
As he fucks you through it, groaning out at how tight your walls are around him, you have to turn your head to gasp in a breath, face feeling hot from it all. You can feel how sweaty your skin has become, the back of your neck feeling sticky as your turn to get a glimpse of him, body still shuddering from the aftershocks. 
Jungkook doesn’t have a care for his own volume now, moaning unabashedly as he pistons his hips into you with less grace than before. The soft mewls of overstimulation you let out just bring him closer to his release, thrusts getting sloppier as the pleasure takes over him. 
“Fuck, baby-” he grunts out, mouth dropping open as he moans even louder, finally falling apart. He pushes further into you, head falling forward as his hips press flushed against your ass, warm spurts of his cum filling you up in a way that fulfills your dirtiest fantasies. A few more shallow thrusts has the two of you gasping, hearts pounding in your chests, coming down slowly as he finally stills.
A serene silence falls over you, the movie long turned off in the background, only the low glow of the television letting you know it was still on. With great hesitation, Jungkook finally pulls out of you, gulping when he sees the thick globs of cum spill from your core, dripping down your thighs before landing on the sheets in a sinful mess. Your sheets are well and truly ruined, Jungkook would honestly suggest tossing them in the trash judging by the damp spot directly beneath you.
With a small groan, you’re flopping fully onto your stomach, thighs no longer able to keep yourself up, the exhaustion creeping up on you. Jungkook chuckles when he hears you, soothing your back with a gentle massage. “You’re not sleeping in here babe.”
“Why not,” you slur, cheek pressed against your pillow, eyes already shut. All you wanted to do was lay here, preferably with his arms wrapped around you, but Jungkook clearly has other plans. 
“Because it’s disgusting,” he laughs, giving you a few more seconds of rest before he’s moving around. The dip in the bed lets you know he’s gotten off, one eye peeking open to search for him, seeing him gathering his belongings from the floor.
“Where are you going?”
He shimmies back into his clothes with a grimace, gathering your own items before approaching you once more. “We are going next door and sleeping in my totally clean bed, c’mon.”
You only put up a fight for a second, secretly enjoying the way he helps you get dressed in your earlier clothes, heart swelling in your chest at how domestic it all feels. The mess in your room would have to be dealt with another day, the only important item being the ice cream that finds its way back into the freezer as you both head out of your apartment and swiftly enter his next door.
He’s just as delicate and careful in the shower, taking turns cleaning each other, large hands gripping your ass and giggling like a child when you wince at the small throb of pain you feel. Soft kisses are shared under the showerhead, warm water soothing your body as the room fogs up, sweet confessions scribbled on the glass in his messy writing, topped off with a heart. Jungkook stops you before you can wipe it away, shyly telling you that he’d like to see it reappear the next time he showers.
His bedroom was one you weren’t too familiar with, used to lounging in his living room the most, so as he settles into his bed after getting cozy in his pajamas, you wait for him to call you over before joining him. The coolness of his sheets has you sighing, snuggling into his side with a smile on your lips, one that Jungkook sees as he stares down at you before pressing a kiss to your forehead. Seeing you draped in his clothes, cuddled up beside him in a way you’ve never done before, makes him feel like a giddy teenager. 
“Can I be honest?” he wonders, arm wrapping around you to pull you even closer to him. When you hum in confirmation, he laughs sheepishly. “I thought you were going to friendship dump me today.”
“What, why?”
Your head bobs up as he shrugs his shoulders. “The way you were acting reminded me of the last time you told me you wanted to focus on your relationship. I was just scared I was going to lose you again.”
The tone he uses makes your heart ache, the same guilt you felt these past few days coming back when you put yourself in his shoes. You had no idea that the way you were acting would affect him this way, never once imagining that he thought you would cut off this friendship while you were just coming to terms with the fact that you harbored strong feelings for him. 
“Jungkook, I’m sorry,” you sigh, palm resting on his chest, feeling each beat of his heart, no longer racing like before, confident and steady in it’s pace because he knows you’re not going anywhere. “I’m stupid, and freaked out after what I did, and just needed to gather my thoughts before saying anything.”
He cranes his head away from you, a confused look on his face. “After what you did? What did you do?”
Fuck.
“Uhm,” you start with a strained laugh, refusing to look up at him out of embarrassment, but the truth has to come out so you power through it.  “So, the night of the date, I sort of got home earlier than I told you I did.”
His eyes narrow at you, refusing to give anything away before he knew where this was going. “Okay, go on.”
“And I sort of heard you through the walls.” You look up at him now, your guilty stare spelling it out for him. His eyes widen before he can conceal his surprise, cheeks warming up instantly because oh boy, he knew exactly where this was going. “And then, I sort of...joined.”
“You lied to me!” he shouts, shocked smile on his face as he recalls the way you had replied to his texts, telling him you had just gotten home and going the extra mile to say you were in a totally different room when in reality, you were sprawled out in your bed after just getting off to the sound of him.
Filthy. And also kind of hot. Jungkook was definitely into that, something he’ll totally proposition you into doing again because why not.  
“I know! I couldn’t help it, it was so hot, and I felt so guilty. But, you’re technically the reason why my orgasm gave me my epiphany and let me realize I really do like you. So, I think I did us both a favor by being a dirty liar.” He’s laughing instantly, fingers gripping your cheeks to turn your head up, planting a firm kiss onto your lips obnoxiously.
“Alright, you’re forgiven. Plus, consider us even because I have definitely heard you getting off on your own plenty of times too.” A squeal of surprise fills the air as you swat at his chest, burying your face into his shirt and feeling the rumble of his laughter. It really wasn’t ever intentional. The walls are thin, you weren’t exactly quiet, and he couldn’t just lay there and ignore it. So call him an opportunist, or a pervert, because you were one too. 
Jungkook is cheeky though, knowing how to get under your skin in the best way, and you can already tell you’re in for a ride when he gets close to your ear and whispers, “You wanna show me how you did it?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know,” you snort, peering up at him with mischief in your eyes.
“You did say I could torture you later.” He smiles innocently, fingers pinching your chin as he kisses you again. “It’s later.”
The sweet laughter that escapes you makes his heart skip a beat, still not able to come to terms that this was happening and wasn’t some dream of his that he’d wake up from. He kisses the tops of your cheeks first, then your nose, before reaching your lips, his hand gently caressing your skin. Jungkook had no intention of torturing you tonight, knowing how tired you typically were after work on a normal day, and after drawing two orgasms out of you that left you shaking, he knows how close you are to sleep with the way your eyes droop. 
“Aren’t you glad you didn’t give up on crushes and love?” he mumbles against your lips, inching back to stare down at you. 
“I’m glad I stopped looking for it in the wrong places.” Your hands wrap around his neck, toying with his hair before pulling him back to you, reattaching your lips because you just couldn’t seem to get enough of him. 
Every single moment you shared, from moving in and awkwardly trying to get to know each other, the ups and downs of failed relationships, the push that started it all at the club, and every almost moment in between brought you full circle to right now. There probably won’t be a moment where you don’t wish you had done this sooner, worked past your worry of ruining a good friendship in fear of what could happen, but the past helped mold you into who you are, strengthening your relationship to be the way it is now.
Right now had you thinking of the future, and there was nothing more exciting than that.
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soft-boi-eli · 3 years ago
Note
Helloo! Could I ask for cc!SBI x GN! Streamer Reader during TwitchCon (I'm not from the US nor Europe so I probs won't be able to go next year, but at least the thought of it seems nice)? Thanks, and remember to stay hydrated! <3
Yes. And I will keep hydrated. Sorry if it take a bit I want it to be as good as possible.
Pronouns:nonbinary
Tw: cussing, mentions of anxiety
Not proofread.
Why is there a tag limit of 30?
Best friends are family.
The flight over was he'll. Leaving you tired and jet lagged as you wandered the air port.
You were to meet up with four people. As you had been a part of a huge server with them.
Not only did you guys play minecraft together. You had streams where you just talk, anwser questions, play little games with them. Even just had one of your guys just talking to the other person while they streamed. It was the only relationship you had. They were your family. Well best friends.
But that doesn't matter right?
When you finally locked eyes with this brown haired guy, glasses, quite tall, looked quite like one of your four friends you immediately froze.
This was real. They weren't fake.
"Techno?" It was quite and was nearly drowned out by the sounds of the air port.
But the brunette looked your way. Eyes widening slightly as he had seen your face on face time before. You two were faceless streamers. Or nearly faceless. Only really showing your faces on huge achievements or to people you know. So most people didn't know what you looked like.
"(Y/n)?" Nodding to him you smiled under your mask.
He had a smile in his eyes as he wrapped his arm around your shoulder. "Let's get out of this crowd. Phil took tommy and wilbur outside since they had a long flight." you both weaved through people. "Understandable. I mean look how many people exsit here." You spoke.
With a chuckle he lead you to the exit. The two blondes and one brunette stood near the door, obviously kind of relived from being out of the crowd.
"Look who I found." Technos voice brought the other three to look in your direction. "Hey! (Y/n) have a nice flight mate?" Phil's question was heartfilled but honestly you didn't want to think of the horrid experience.
"Not too bad not too good. Hopped on the soonest plane. And dear God it was hell." It was obvious by your tone that you didn't want to speak about it. So they were quick to shift the subject.
"So the b&b you're staying at? Where is it?" You looked at tommy confused. Didn't he know that you all are going to the same b&b?
"Same one as us tommy. Did you even listen to us on the flight?" Wilbur spoke up before you could deliver your sarcastic comment.
"Really? Didn't expect that." Tommy seemed confuses. Rolling your eyes at the teen you spoke. "Ah yes let's send one of the most socially awkward people out to rent a room in a b&b alone. How smart." Getting the hint tommy chuckled at the sarcastic comment.
"Oh yeah. I forgot that you had that bad of anxiety." Looking back to him with a 'bitch really?' Look he laughed. "You forgot I had crippling anxiety. It took what? 5 months before I started to fully talk to all of you? It was literally just you guys talking to me until one day out of the blue I started talking back." As you spoke you guys got to technos car.
As techno had driven here he was the one that was driving you the the b&b. No need for rental cars.
"So, (y/n), Phil, tommy, wilbur. Have do you guys wanna pick up some food first? Or nah?" Techno was quick to ask. And having a hungry teen in the car it was automatically a yes.
The day flew by. Jokes were told, food was eaten. And naps were quick to happen.
But that all came to a hard stop. TwitchCon. You weren't on the main panel like most of the others. Having been just added and just climbing up. But you did have your own meet and greet station.
And that was enough to pick at your anxiety.
But you decided to breathe through it. Hoping to get through this and live another day.
What helped was the fact that not many people came up to you. Having no idea if you were the real one. But when you got to your booth hell rang loose. You were now confirmed to be the real you and people wanted autographs, photos, videos, little trinkets you ended up selling.
It was not as bad as you thought. Not many people pushing past your boundires.
"Omg it's (t/n)! (Twitch name) they are so cool can I go say hi!" The younger child was quick to rush up to you as their parents nodded.
"HI! I wanted to say i love you and your content! I was wondering if I could get an autograph. Also how do you do it? How do you look so genderless!" This child was going miles a minute and honestly it was one of the sweetest things. "Well it takes years of work and finding what's best. here's your autograph. Would you like a photo?" They nodded so fast it was almost like their head was going to fall off.
Laughing lightly you wrapped an arm around their shoulder and they wrapped theirs around yours.
Their parents were quick to snap a photo and call their child back to them. Not wanting to take up too much of your time.
And to you luck the four boys you were waiting for had arrived. Relife.
You smiled and waved them over. "(Y/n). You seem happy." Technos voice was calm.
"Just a very kind and energetic fan. It was nice too see someone like them." You looked in the direction of the kid. Noticing something you hadn't before. They were bald. Looked kind of sickly. And seemed kind of off. Excusing yourself you grabbed something from under your table. One of the many stuffed animals you had onder there with a embroidered signature from you. It was a little stuffed snow leopard.
Rushing to find the child you tapped their shoulder. Turning around they seemed confused. "(T/n)? What are you doing over here shouldn't you be over near your stand?" You smiled under your mask.
"You seem to be going through something and I wanted to make sure one of my number one fans had something special to make them feel better. Here you go. My channels mascot with an embroidered signature so you will always remember to fight on Cub." Your followers are known as your Cubs. And this one was a special one. They made your day.
Now it wastime for you to make their day.
With gentle hands they took the plush to their chest tears in their eyes. They latched onto you as they cried softly. Rubbing their back you saw the parents tearing up. Their mother pulled her mask down mouthing thank you then pulling it back up quickly.
Nodding gently you hug the child lightly. Letting go slowly you look at them. "I belive in you. So you take these words. Fight on. Never give up. You are one of the strongest people I have seen alright? You're gonna make it through this no matter what." Patting their head you smiled as they nodded.
There was a new spark in their eye.
This powerful Cub. Phil and the other came up behind you. "Hey there mate. Having a good time?" The child seemed so happy.
This is what you guys were here for. To see these joyful expressions. To make your fans happy. To give them some kind of escape.
There was no way you'd let anything get between you and your fans. No matter what.
I needed wholesome.
So I apologize for this taking so long but I was stressed about other things and that caused a chain reaction in my life. But next week I should start school so that's a plus.
Also when I do start school again imma be working slower. And I do apologize about that.
I'll try my best to get more of these out. So E.
Anyways hoped you enjoyed.
-Eli out!!
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let-it-raines · 4 years ago
Text
I Hope We Never See October (3/?)
Tumblr media
When his personal life and football career go up in flames, Killian Jones escapes England for America, finding seclusion in Martha’s Vineyard in order to hide from his demons. It’s a fresh start, or at the very least a paused moment in his life, and all he needs is a few months alone to allow his heart to heal. He doesn’t count on meeting Emma Swan.
Emma’s life depends on tourists who come to the island every summer. It’s how she makes her money working in restaurants and clubs across the vineyard, but every year, she cannot wait until autumn comes and her life returns to normal. She especially cannot wait for Killian Jones to leave.
Rating: Mature
a/n: Not gonna lie, I forget I'm writing this story, remember, and then the moment I sit down to write, I get called away. But here's part three!
AO3: Beginning | Current
Tumblr: One | Two | Three
-/-
His head is pounding. It’s been awhile since it has pounded like this. Usually, it’s from a lack of sleep from the nightmares or the stress. This morning, he knows it’s from the rum. He did everything he could to cancel it out – coffee, water, food, medicine – but his head is still pounding. He is a bloody lightweight now.
Huh.
Killian is making it sound like that’s a bad thing, when really, it’s good. A week ago he was standing with a beer bottle in his hand early in the morning tempted to drown his entire day away. Last night, he made it the entire day without wanting to get pissed and only had two small drinks to toast his friends goodbye.
That’s progress.
This hangover, though, damn. It’s a sign he’s making progress, but damn.
Or he’s simply getting old, which is something else he doesn’t want to think about.
“Fuck,” Killian moans, pressing his fingers against his temples as he opens his eyes. His neck is also killing him, probably from how he slept on this damn couch all night. He should have driven home, but he didn’t trust himself to. Besides, Ariel had offered the couch before she went to bed.
Emma had too.
He’d nearly left after she offered. She was likely only doing it because she assumed Ariel or Eric already offered. He gets the feeling the woman doesn’t like him, which usually isn’t something that happens with him, and that intrigues him. It also makes him realize how much of an asshole he is.
How has he gotten to a point in his life where he expects women to always fancy his company?
Killian sits up, his muscles aching, and slowly, he rises from the couch. The lights in the house are all off, and he knows he can leave now with no one knowing the wiser that he slept over, that he felt bad enough to not be able to drive home. Or maybe that he didn’t want to spend another night in that giant house by himself.
The floor creaks beneath him with each step he takes, but no one seems to stir. Killian finds a notepad and pen in the kitchen and quickly scribbles a note to Ariel and Eric. He said his goodbyes to them last night, and he’ll talk to them on the phone at some point today. He doesn’t need to stick around to say another goodbye this morning. It’s still early enough that the sun hasn’t risen, and they won’t be up for hours. Killian finishes his note, grabs his wallet and keys from the counter, and heads out the front door to his car. It takes him a moment to find his car, to remember what said of the road they drive on over here, but he eventually spots it across the street under a large tree when a light from the house turns on.
Killian turns to see it’s coming from an upstairs window, and Emma Swan is standing between the curtains. He nods, and he swears he sees the slightest nod in return before the curtains rustle and she turns off the light.
She didn’t get in until two this morning, and she’s up at six. How the hell is she functioning?
Then again, how is he functioning?
Killian’s phone buzzes in his pocket, and after he gets in his Jeep, he checks the message.
Elsa Jones: The girls say thank you for their new Leggo set. My bare feet do not.
Killian laughs and puts his phone back in his pocket. That’s how he’s functioning. He may have flown across an ocean, but he’d never leave Ally and Sophia. They’ve already lost enough, and Liam will have his head, someway and somehow, if he doesn’t do everything he can to make sure all his girls are happy.
To make sure Killian is happy too.
“Bloody hell,” Killian whispers to himself as he cranks the engine, “it’s too early to be thinking like this.”
He should be able to have at least a little reprieve from the voices in his head.
-/-
Killian doesn’t leave the house much over the next few days. He doesn’t have reason to. He’s got everything he could possibly need in the house, including his own private stretch of beach that he walks along a few times a day, but the repetition of nothing begins to drive him mad. He trains in almost the same way as he did when he was playing, and while that takes up a good portion of his day, it’s not enough to keep him occupied. He reads the books that the owners of the house left behind but finds it’s mostly romance novels he can’t stomach. For a day or two, he binges Netflix, leaving a permanent imprint of his ass in the couch cushions, but there’s only so much time he can spend staring at screens.
Elsa and the girls call more than once a day with them being on summer holidays, and he gets a call or two from Scarlet, who finally had the bullocks to ask Belle out to dinner. That was good to hear since Killian has been giving Will shit about doing that for years now, and it’s good to see that people are moving on with their lives.
He’s not, not really, but he’s not trying to move on so much as he’s trying to not be a total disaster every day.
Sitting in this house alone all day every day isn’t helping. Why did anyone think sending him to be alone would be a good idea in the wake of his brother’s death? He knows it’s more so the scum English tabloids would leave him alone and he could fix his public image so he doesn’t go broke before he’s forty from loss of sponsorships and possible opportunities to get involved in the league, but damn, this was a bad idea.
At least he’s not drinking himself to sleep anymore.
Or drinking himself awake. He thinks that feat is slightly more impressive.
Killian puts his bottle of water down and opens the door that leads to the deck. It’s cool out today, the sun hidden behind the clouds, and since he cannot stay here anymore, he decides he’ll go for a run. It’s been years since he ran outside and not on a pitch or a treadmill, but maybe it’ll be a good distraction. He’s noticed more people filling into the houses around him, the summer tourists showing up in large droves now, so at the very least he can pass time watching people while hoping no one watches him.
It takes him little time to get dressed, lace up his trainers, and pop headphones in his ears before he’s out the door. The roads aren’t flat around his house, so he drives the Jeep a few miles until he finds smoother, less crowded ground. Maybe it’s a way to keep him from running that little bit longer, but mostly he knows his knees need the flat surfaces right now.
He really has gotten old, hasn’t he?
Eventually, he finds what looks like a good path behind a long stretch of beach, finds a place to park, and then he starts running.
It’s horrible, which was expected, but he does it anyway. There are families lining the beaches, music playing from speakers and phones, and he watches as boats skip out on the water. Maybe he should rent a boat for a weekend and take it out. It’d be nice to be out on the water again. He hasn’t been since Liam’s death, the fear of something similar happening to him despite the unlikeliness, but maybe one day while he’s here. It’s not as if he has anything better to do.
Killian runs until the endorphins kick in and then again until his legs get tired. He’s an idiot, however, because he doesn’t think to turn around to his Jeep.
Bloody hell.
He stops and reaches his hands over his head, stretching out his shoulders, and looks to see what’s around him. It’s mostly beach, but there are several restaurants and shops a few blocks down. He notices the familiar Blue Dog Tavern sign and the long deck filled with their outside seating. That means he’s minutes away from a populated area of shops and restaurants where he could cool down and catch his breath, but he still walks toward the Blue Dog. There’s another diner around here he went to that was horrible, and he doesn’t feel like taking the chance again. He’s still over his phase of twenty-four-hour diners. He doesn’t think he can handle more sticky tables.
Killian cools down on the walk to the restaurant, taking in the people walking along the sidewalk, and he dodges them until he’s inside and the cool air is hitting against his skin. It’s past the prime of the lunch rush, so the place is mostly empty. He thinks of going to the bar again, but as he wants to stay as out of the way as possible, he asks the hostess to seat him at a booth in the corner.
“Is someone coming to meet you?” she asks, smacking her gum as she hands him a menu.
“I’m afraid not. Just me today.”
She smiles, popping her gum again, and leans forward, casually popping a button on her shirt. Killian tries not to snicker at the obvious attempt, mostly because she is attractive, but the last thing he needs is to burn more bridges at one of the few places in towns he likes. “Well, if you want company, all you have to do is come find me. I’m Marina.”
He raises his brow. “Seems like you were born to work by the ocean then.”
“Why’s that?”
“Because your name is Marina.”
She cocks her head to the side and laughs. “What do you mean?”
“Nothing, love.” Killian smiles and nods toward the front. “I believe you’re needed.”
She jumps and walks away, obviously putting a little sway in her hips when she moves, and in another life, he’d ask her to join him for lunch and meet her after her shift. He nearly does it now, but the man he’s been and the man he’s trying to be war with each other in his mind.
No burning bridges, he reminds himself. He’s done enough of that in his lifetime.
He orders water and coffee and avoids eye contact with Marina as much as possible, especially when she keeps finding ways to come by his table despite there being no other customers in his section. He texts Will and Rob, sends Elsa some pictures of the beach to show the girls, responds to Ariel about him doing another video conference with a hospital back home, and then he puts his phone away and tries to focus on his meal.
Unsurprisingly, it does not take a hell of a lot of focus to eat a sandwich and chips.
The music coming over the intercoms keeps him occupied for awhile, so does the television hanging over the bar until someone changes it to ESPN, and eventually Killian starts fidgeting for headphones and something to do while he waits for his meal to settle and drinks another cup of coffee. He needs to start the trek back to his Jeep, but that’s the last thing he wants to do.
“Heather, I get that you don’t want to be here, but your uncle and your parents want you here. And you either need to take it up with them or start doing some actual work.”
Killian recognizes that voice, and he sinks in his booth. He was hoping to get away with not running into her here today, if only to save himself the headache. He doesn’t have any paper money on hand, so he can’t pay and leave, and he imagines there’s very little chance he’ll avoid her when she’s walking right toward him with Heather, his server from last week.
She’s in those bloody jean shorts again. They barely cover anything and hug her ass to show it off, and the blouse she’s wearing is fitted to her skin. Her hair is down, hitting past midway on her back, and she looks just as gorgeous as she has every other time he’s seen her…which is exactly why he needs her to not notice him.
So, of course, she does.
Right after she teaches Heather how to clean the tables, she looks up and over at Killian, raises both brows, and walks toward him with her arms crossed beneath her chest. “Anything I can help you with today?”
“The check may be nice, Swan. Lovely to see you again.”
“Uh-huh.” She looks over her shoulder, holds up a signal toward Killian’s server, and he hustles to the back, presumably to get the check. “I can recommend other restaurants in the area. This place is great, but I promise there are better ones.”
He shrugs. “I like the food and how calm it is during off hours. Are you enjoying your house with no Fishers in it?”
“I don’t mind when they come to stay.”
It’s a lie if he’s ever heard one. Killian points to his temple and taps. “I know this may surprise you, but I’m actually quite perceptive.”
Her smile is tight, and she tucks her hair behind her ears. “The Fishers are great landlords, and I can’t complain.”
“I’m not going to tell them what you’re saying, love.”
She smiles again, and he can tell she’s still faking it for him. “All I can say is I’m glad not to have strange men scaring me in my kitchen at two in the morning. Now they simply show up at my work.”
He lifts his glass. “It’s good food, and you’re right, I don’t know of many other reliable eateries around here. Some of them seem a little too…made for tourists.”
“And the Blue Dog Tavern doesn’t? I mean, come on. We have a giant blue animated dog cutout outside. We’re on all those lists of ‘Places in Martha’s Vineyard you have to visit.’ We’re made for tourists like you.”
“I am not a tourist.”
“Says the man who is renting one of the big houses out in Edgartown and staying here for the summer. I’m guessing you go to the beach and lounge around the pool and go through way too many of the bad books the owners of the house have on their shelves.”
Killian huffs and crosses his arms over his chest, leaning back in the booth. That was a little too spot on. “How do you know where I’m staying? Wait, no. Ariel, right?”
“Yeah,” Emma smiles, and God, it feels like a hell of an accomplishment to get her to smile. “She went on and on about the great Killian Jones.”
“Ah, so you know who I am then?” He leans forward and waggles his brows, flashing his brightest smile.
“Yeah, a rich British tourist who is friends with my landlords.” Someone calls her name from across the restaurant, and Emma holds one finger up. “Your check will be with you soon. I’ll ask Marina to give you some other restaurant recommendations on your way out. You’ll get sick of this place soon enough.”
“I’m perfectly happy with it, Swan.”
She shrugs and walks away, and Killian chuckles to himself. He doesn’t understand this woman at all, but she intrigues him.
He knows that’s a dangerous game to play.
Killian gets the check, pays it, and before he can escape, Marina corners him to give him more recommendations. She ends up veering into bars and clubs on the island and the surrounding towns, asking him if he wants her to show him around, but he declines and takes the list of places. Maybe he’ll check them out, but the last thing he needs is to go to a club. A bar, maybe, but not a club. He’s learned that there’s a hell of a difference.
He’s also learned that he’s bored to tears in this place, and no amount of calls to Ariel and Elsa can solve that boredom. He finds himself googling pre-season training information, checking up on mates and rivals, and while that’s a bit of a slip-up, he does manage to still stay away from looking himself up. He never used to have the urge to google himself or to read any of the tabloids, but ever since his retirement, he’s been curious. Were people sad? Happy? Did he leave any kind of lasting impact? Or did they all just see him as the drunk, washed up old man with a dirtied past?
That is a path he absolutely cannot go down, and since he’s already run a half marathon today, he decides to shower and get dressed to go to one of the places Marina recommended. If his time alone doesn’t start to get less depressing, he thinks he’s going to have to fly back to London and bother Elsa and the girls until they kick him out. He’ll pay for the remaining time on the house, but he won’t be staying there.
While the sun sets, Killian drives down new roads on the island, going to different towns and neighborhoods to see what others are doing, before ending up at a bar near his house. Marina said it was a spot for locals with good food and a quiet energy, so he doubts Marina has ever stepped foot into it. Killian pushes open the old oak door, and the lights inside are dimmed, the music quiet. There’s a guy playing guitar in the corner hidden between two pillars, and Killian finds himself sitting at the opposite end of the bar on a stool that’s cushion squeaks when he sits down.
Charming.
“You eating, drinking, or both?” The bartender asks, wiping his hands off with a cloth.
“Eating. Have any recommendations?”
“You have an objection to seafood?” the old man asks.
“Not a one.”
“Good. I’ll fix you up with the daily catch.”
Killian nods as the man makes his way through a door behind the bar, and then Killian swivels on his stool, looking around the place. He doesn’t know about the food yet, but Marina was right. It definitely has a quiet energy to it. There are people in nearly every booth and at every table, but there’s a hushed tone except for a laugh in the booth nearest him. His eyes are drawn there, and to both his surprise and horror, he finds Emma Swan with her head tilted back with laughter.
Fuck.
She’s definitely going to think he’s stalking her, and as hungry and bored as he is, he’s still tempted to leave. So of course, that’s when Emma stops laughing and looks directly at him.
Bollocks. Utter bollocks.
She blinks and stares at him a little longer, her brows raising before falling, and then she turns back to whoever is sitting in the booth with her. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see her arms moving, but he turns on the stool until he can see her no longer, wishing at the very least he had a water to nurse.
“Hiya. Come sit in our booth with us.”
Killian twists and looks at the brunette who’s now sitting next to him. “Pardon?”
She sticks out her hand, and he takes it, shaking it. “Ruby Lucas. You’re Killian Jones, the – ”
“There’s no need to – ”
“ – the guy who scared Emma half to death at her house in the middle of the night,” Ruby completes, grinning like the cat who ate the canary. “And I must say, you are much more attractive than she described.”
“So she talked about me then?”
“In her own special Emma way.” Ruby tilts her head back toward their booth. “And in my own special Ruby way, I’m inviting you to eat dinner with us. It’s me, Emma, and this super wholesome woman named Mary Margaret who will take you home and bake you cookies while asking you about your childhood because she had a good one of those.”
Killian chuckles, cheeks still flushed from him thinking Ruby knew who he was earlier – he is a pompous, entitled ass obviously – and from being invited to their table. “I couldn’t intrude.”
“I insist that you do.”
He likes her, he decides. She’s stunning and funny with no filter, but she reminds him too much of a dirtier version of Anna. It’s a rather peculiar comparison, but it’s true. It’s also half the reason he agrees to switch tables, rising from his stool and walking toward the booth. The other half a reason is the blonde woman with her face pressed into her forearms against the table top.
She looks beyond thrilled for him to be joining them.
“Oh, Emma, you were right, he is handsome!”
Emma bangs her head into the table as who he presumes is Mary Margaret smiles at him from across the booth. Killian slides onto the seat and elbows Emma’s side before patting her shoulder. “It’s alright, darling. I told all my mates you were beautiful, so we’re even.”
“Go to hell.”
He laughs, grinning at her, and slowly, she peels herself off the table. “Just so you know, I’m only here because Marina recommended it.”
“Remind me to fire her in the morning.”
“So,” Mary Margaret interrupts, tucking her short hair behind her ear, “tell us about yourself, Killian. Where are you from? What do you do for work? How long are you planning on being here?”
“Good God, Marg,” Emma sighs, slumping down, “give the man some room to breathe.”
“What? I’m curious.”
“You’re nosy is what you are,” Emma corrects.
“Aren’t we all?” Killian shuffles in his seat, hoping they move on to another subject, but when Mary Margaret turns to him, he knows she isn’t one to forget. “So, how long are you staying?”
“I have the keys to the house I’m renting until the first of October, but I imagine I’ll leave sooner.”
“And why’s that?” she asks.
Killian shrugs as the man behind the bar drops off a glass of water at the table and tells Killian his food will be ready in ten minutes. “I’m afraid no matter how nice it is here, I don’t know many people. I miss the people I’m closest to. A man can only spend so much time alone.”
“Then why’d you book a house for so long?”
“I needed to get away.”
“Yeah, but – ”
“Marg,” Emma interrupts, placing her hand over her friend’s, “please. You don’t have to know everything about him. Not everyone wants to reveal their entire life to complete strangers.”
She’s right. He doesn’t. But for some inane reason, he doesn’t think he’d mind revealing most of his life to her.
He has obviously lost his damn mind.
But it’s nice to spend a night with other people, to be included in the conversation, and while Mary Margaret and Ruby are delightful, he finds Emma captures his attention, not that this surprises him.
What does surprise him, however, is how much friendlier she is in this environment. He knows it’s her friends and not him, and maybe the glass of wine she had with dinner, but it’s nice to see her laugh freely and blush when Ruby tells stories of Emma he cannot imagine knowing otherwise. He can’t imagine Emma ever scaling a building to break into an ex’s apartment to get her favorite sweater back, but then again, that seems exactly like something she would do if she wanted it badly enough.
He fancies her.
He has no business fancying her, none at all, but when he ends up driving all three women to their homes because Ruby and Mary Margaret had too much to drink and Emma can’t drive the stick shift in Ruby’s car, he accepts Emma’s invitation inside for a cup of coffee.
He also accepts her invitation upstairs into her bed.
To hell with the consequences and burning bridges. He’ll deal with those in the morning when he isn’t so enticed by the trail of freckles running down Emma’s bare stomach.
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Tag list: @qualitycoffeethings @marrtinski @klynn-stormz @scarletslippers @elizabeethan @jrob64 @snowbellewells @therealstartraveller776 @thejollyroger-writer @galadriel26 @galaxyzxstark @idristardis @karenfrommisthaven @teamhook @spartanguard @searchingwardrobes @jamif @shireness-says @ultimiflos @onepunintendid @bluewildcatfanatic @superchocovian @killianswannn @carpedzem @captainkillianswanjones @mayquita @mariakov81 @jennjenn615 @onceuponaprincessworld @a-faekindagirl @scientificapricot @xellewoods @ultraluckycatnd @stahlop @kmomof4 @tiganasummertree @singersdd @tornadoamy @cluttermind @lfh1226-linda @andiirivera @itsfabianadocarmo @captain-emmajones @ilovemesomekillianjones @taylrsversion​ @dramioneswan​ @jonesfandomfanatic​ @wefoundloveunderthelight
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imo-chan-imagines · 4 years ago
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『 As your boyfriend | FKBU Headcanons 』
Characters: female!reader, Kambe Daisuke, Kato Haru
Tags/warnings: Fugou Keiji Balance: Unlimited (anime), 18+, strong sexual references, fluff, angst, Haru's PTSD, headcanons, daddy kink and cockwarming (kind of?) for Daisuke, breeding kink for Haru *coughing intensifies*
⚠️ 18+ CONTENT! MINORS: PLEASE DO NOT INTERACT ⚠️
A/N: Felt like writing some more for these boys because ~holy shit~ do I love them, and I maybe went a teensy bit overboard. Oopsie! 🤭 But anyway, have y'all seen episode 6?! Let's freaking gooo! (No spoilers, don't worry) Thanks for reading! Enjoy! Imo~
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Kambe Daisuke
First up: daddy kink. I know it, you know it, we all know it. So let's not beat about the bush
Quite dominant and firm with you (see: daddy kink)
But he absolutely loves spoiling you
Expensive gifts, like one-of-a-kind necklaces, seductive perfumes, satin dresses, lace underwear, etc.
He loves dressing you up and showing you off
But he also loves spoiling you in bed more like ruining, I am deceased
A lot of butt grabbing in public hnng
He likes it when you don't wear any underwear because it makes for easier quickies like bent over the sink in the bathroom at his favourite club
He likes you sitting on his lap in front of people, too aye papi
American gangster vibes, honestly
He's not really one for soppy, romantic PDA, but he loves you letting people know that it's him you want and nobody else
He loves the look on people's faces when you call him 'daddy' that grin will be the death of me
Especially the look on Haru's face, lmao. He blushed like a tomato and couldn't speak a coherent sentence for a whole hour
Hickeys. Lots and lots of hickeys. And don't even think about covering them up
Daisuke loves sleeping naked and has a habit of walking around the house in just a towel when he gets out the shower fight me
He's also completely oblivious to what it does to you
A MASSIVE bed with super soft, satiny sheets. They feel like clouds uwu
He gets HEUSC to remind him of important dates, like birthdays, anniversaries, etc.
Date Ideas: Unlimited sorry, not sorry
From fancy restaurants, to exclusive movie premieres, to late night helicopter rides to the other side of the country, Daisuke can and will pay for anything if it makes you happy
He also lets you introduce him to lots of new things, like trying different kinds of street food on dates, going rowing on the pond in the park, having a go at karaoke, renting bikes and cycling round the city, going hiking at the nearest nature reserve or wilderness, etc. adorable
He's like a curious kitten when he's trying new things, putting a lot of trust in you to guide him through it
He always looks perfect in the photos you snap, even the ones he wasn't aware you were taking, and it's a lowkey frustrating that he nearly always looks prettier than you
But it's not his fault, so you'll only pout for a little while
His face is pretty hard to read most of the time, but you eventually get used to it and pick up on all his little mood indicators
His ears move when he's happy, and you can't convince me otherwise
He'll hold your heels for you when your feet hurt on a night out
He smells of leather and sandalwood, and his kisses taste of expensive whisky and cigars
He loves it when you bite his lower lip while making out
He's kind of possessive, but in a protective way
He never thought of himself as a particularly jealous person, until one night he came back to the bar and saw some other guy hitting on you the attention was definitely unwanted on your side
It made his blood boil – clenched fists, piercing glare if looks could kill
But he managed to stay calm and maturely tell the guy to get lost, with his arm snaking round your waist
Daisuke made it very clear that it wasn't you he didn't trust. It was that he didn't trust that guy – or any guy, for that matter
His favourite ~position~ is on a table or other surface with your legs over his shoulders
He's a god at eating you out
He's a god at everything in the bedroom, tbh
Saint Laurent condoms, because he's that fucking extra I'm screaming
His hair always falls out of place when you're fucking it's so hot and cute, wtf
It's a lot of glitz and glamour on the surface, but when it's just the two of you, you know just how much you mean to him
The King of Aftercare™
He used to suck at aftercare until he properly tried it. Then he realised that he needed it as much as you did le cry
Back rubs, forehead kisses, playing with your hair, soft whispers in your ear
He holds you so tightly that it gets hard to breathe, and you can feel his heart beating hard against your back
Sometimes he likes to just stay inside you after finishing
He enjoys the feeling of you around him, and honestly, you like just feeling him being inside you cockwarming, kind of?
Soft little nuzzles with his nose in his sleep even better when he's fallen asleep while still inside you
He's not perfect, but being with you makes him try to be better
Help, my heart's so full 🤧
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Kato Haru
This man is a sweetie pie, honestly
Not just boyfriend material, but husband material put a ring on it, hun
Lots of home cooking, and it all tastes so good you honestly believe he could just quit being a cop and open up a restaurant
He loves cooking with you, too. It's fun bonding time
Sometimes he stands behind you and guides your hands etc. it sometimes goes a little further, if ya know what I'm saying 👀
Knows how to do all the chores and housework, and actually does his share look at my practical hubby
Random pillow fights that turn into cuddle sessions
He talks in his sleep waaahh, so cute
Sometimes it's utter nonsense, like 'Don't let the donuts escape'
Other times, it's things like, 'I love Y/N so much,' or 'Let's have babies,' while he's holding onto you, and you just melt
Spooning. So much spooning
Lots of budget date ideas, like building pillow forts, watching sunsets and stargazing from the balcony, going for hikes and runs together, going for picnics, feeding ducks at the pond, etc.
One time, a duck chased him around the pond because he had the bread, and he had to run for 20 minutes before it gave up thank God for all that cardio
The Master of Flat Pack Furniture™ – because he takes his time and actually reads the instructions
Daisuke had a ™ so Haru needed one too
Takes good care of you on your period and actually knows about different sanitary products
He smells really fresh and clean, like Imperial Leather soap and air-dried laundry as long as he hasn't been on a stakeout, lmao
He loves taking showers with you, but like, actual showers
The first and only time you had shower sex was hot and steamy until:
1. You realised that water does not a good lube make and 2. He slipped and accidentally shoved his dick in your ass instead
You fully passed out, and he was so frantic that he bundled you into the car and drove you straight to the ER you were in just a towel, might I add
You both look back on it now and laugh, but he was genuinely scared
Shower sex = never again
But he loves it when you straddle his lap and start grinding on him bonus points if you kiss his neck and run your hands through his hair
He's a pretty vanilla boy when it comes to sex, preferring positions like missionary and cowgirl, and liking a fairly even balance of power
He got super embarrassed and flustered when he finally mustered up the courage to suggest having car sex
And then even more embarrassed and flustered when you actually ended up doing it
He was blushing so hard the entire time and came really quickly, which only added to his embarrassment but you thought it was cute
He has really sensitive nipples which you use to your advantage
He absolutely loves hates it when you send him nudes or try and sext him while he's at work, because he gets a massive boner and will either have to live with it and probably get laughed at by those goobs in the office, or deal with it in the bathroom, which feels wrong to him on so many levels
Doesn't really stop you sending them though, because whenever you do, he comes home and fucks you really well
One thing that's not vanilla about him is how much he likes cumming inside you breeding kink, welcome to the party. Please take a seat
He didn't tell you about it for the longest time because he was embarrassed about it and was afraid you'd think it was gross or something please cum in me, sir
He was so relieved when you were understanding about it and open to the idea of indulging him
But he genuinely really wants kids some day he'd be a great dad
His PTSD doesn't stop him being a good boyfriend, but he's convinced that it does
Most days he seems okay, like he's over it, even
But sometimes you'll wake up in the middle of the night and find him curled up in the bath, shaking and crying into his knees my poor baby, I can't
Excuse me while I go and cry into my pillow for a while
You're his safety net
When he feels like he's drowning, you keep his head above the water until the waves eventually calm and recede, and he can breathe again
He hates putting so much on your shoulders
But you swear to him that you wouldn't want to be doing anything else, and that you're not going anywhere
This got so angsty, my heart can't take this 😭
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© imo-chan-imagines 2020
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The Perfect Bad Boy (Pt. 12 of 18)
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Pairing: Billy Hargrove X Reader
Word count: 3 K
Summary: Working as a lifeguard in the Hawkins Community Pool, you try to fit in after moving from New York. Things were going pretty well when you notice you've been under someone's stare. Billy Hargrove, Hawkins' bad boy, has been staring at you since day one. You never intended to have anything to do with him, judging by the reputation he has. But Billy won't leave you alone, determined to show you his feelings are different this time...
As if your heart flooding you with confusing feelings wasn't enough, there are weird, strange animals lurking in the woods... But those have to be just part of the wild live of the woods surrounding Hawkins... Right?
<- Previous part (11)
Next part (13) ->
{Stranger Things Masterlist}
×
Apparition
A wave of courses leave Diane's lips when you're done telling her what happened yesterday. She tells you Robert is a lawyer, and if Neil ever shows up again, she won't save up money to sue his ass off. You couldn't agree more. But after the tense moment has passed, the three of you seat on the kitchen table, ready for a different kind of tension.
“Alright. Now, aunt. We're actually here for something else.” You start, clearing your throat and trying not to show that you're nervous about it. It's not that you're changing your mind, but you're aware of the big decision you're taking. And you're scared it won't work in the end, but still, you want to do it, to know how it would be to live with Billy. Well, with Maxine too. You're trying not to overthink, but to just give this crazy idea a chance.
“What is it?” She squints her eyes, flying from Billy and back at you.
“You tell her.” You elbow Billy, who looks at you with wide eyes. “It was your idea.” You lower your voice.
“But she's your aunt.” He complains.
“Alright, kids. What's going on?” Diane raises her voice, tapping on the table. “Should I be worried? I heard some rumors and–”
“No. It's... Good news.” You assure her, taking a deep breath before–
“I asked her to come to live with me.” Billy bursts out, and you don't know why but you feel so damn nervous about it, so you hold his hand. It's a funny feeling, one that you never felt. You never introduced any of the guys you dated to your parents. The only two guys you dated before. You did tell their names to Diane, but that was it. A short time after the relationship was over anyway, so it was never a thing. But this... This is huge.
“Well, that's... That's a big step you're taking." Diane doesn't seem mad, and you remember she's nothing like your parents. She understands you, supports you, and it makes you feel better, confident. And if you mess up, she will be right here to help you up. “Are you both sure about it?”
You both nod at the same time. “I came up with the idea.” Billy starts. ”We have the same plans about the routine when summer is over and the classes are back.” He moves your holding hands over the table, his thumb caressing the back of your hand. “I own my house, so it just makes sense since (Y/N) plans on staying in Hawkins.” He makes a pause. “As do I. And you wouldn't have to pay rent anymore.”
“It's not this part that matters. I came to live here because I wouldn't leave (Y/N) alone and I have no trouble driving to the clinic. What matters is what you guys are feeling. Living together is a big step. You'll be around each other all day, you'll get to know each other a lot better and fights will happen.” She's using the mom's voice, and it's so cute. You can't even remember how many times you wished she was your real mother. How many times you called her, in tears, sobbing, asking why she wasn't the one to put you into this world. But it doesn't really matter now, because it's Diane, it always has been, who was a mother to you. It's to her you run to when you need advice, and she's the one you're nervous about telling this decision. Your parents won't know about this, they don't have to. But Diane? She has to. You own her this much. “And you can't just break apart when the first disagreement hits.”
“We won't,” Billy speaks up before you can, tightening his grip on your hand a little. Turning your head, you look at him, those blue eyes reassuring you about all this, and a smile comes to your lips. “I love (Y/N). I think you, as her mother figure should know that.”
This takes you by surprise. You never thought Billy would be the one to act like this. He's still impressing you, every passing day...
“Then you already said the three big words to each other,” Diane states, but your eyes are locked on Billy's.
“We did,” you assure her, suddenly aware of the public, what makes you blush. “I really wanna do this, aunt.”
“I know, honey. I'll give you my permission then.”
“What?” You gasp, laughing a little. “I wasn't asking for permission. I was just... Letting you know.” Raising an eyebrow, you give her a smirk.
“I give permission.” Diane crosses her arms, leaning back on her chair.
“I don't–”
“Let's just start packing up your things.” Billy cuts you off, and you wonder if he's trying to get into your aunt's good side. He pulls you off the chair and you have no choice but to follow him.
You still have an hour before you have to get to the pool, so you start working. Diane helps until she has to go too, telling you she'll call the house owner from the clinic and let him know you'll be moving out.
As you put all your clothes and personal stuff into the three pieces of baggage you have, you feel it becoming real. Yesterday you were both a little high from the commotion, but now... You're actually doing it. You and Billy are emptying out your wardrobe and drawers, and the few stuff you have around the bedroom. You make a few trips to his car and back, making sure nothing is left behind.
“You don't have much stuff besides clothes,” Billy says as you both stand by the door frame, looking at the now empty bedroom.
“No. Actually, most of the clothes I have now I bought in Indianapolis. When I left New York I had nothing but a backpack.” You can't help but smile at the memory. You felt like a teenager that day, running away. It was the first time on a plane, but the whole flight was a blur. You could only think that you were finally free, to do what you wanted with your life.
“Ready to go? We can drop your things off before driving to the pool.”
“Yup. Let's go.”
The short ride back to his place is silent since you're a little lost in your own head. You don't know why, but the fear you once had of falling for Billy hits again. What if this is a mistake? What if it's way too soon to do this and this is what will break you apart. ‘We're bound to break.’ The sentence hits you like a brick, and you can't help but nervously run a hand through your hair, looking at the landscape outside the window.
“(Y/N),” Billy calls, and when you turn your face to look at him, you notice you're already here. “Are you ok?”
“Yeah, I... I just...”
“Did you change your mind?” His voice sounds weak, still deep and strong but... Weak. Fearful.
“No, I just... I don't want to ruin what we have. Guess I'm a little scared.” Shrugging your shoulders, you take a deep breath, stretching your arm and touching the back of his neck. “Aren't you? Not even a little bit?”
“Yes. I'm scared you'll open your eyes and realize the asshole I am and walk away.” Billy opens the door and steps out of the car.
“Shit,” you mumble, doing the same. “Billy, wait.” You raise your voice, eyes on his back as he goes to the front door. He's still affected by what happened yesterday, and it seems that the only thing that's making him happy is the fact that you're here. “Won't you help me carry these things inside?”
You smile when he stops, biting your lips when he turns on his heels and comes back.
You have your eyes on the clock since you couldn't help start putting things in their places. The room is a mess because of the bad idea of laying everything on the bed and only then start looking for places. You're thankful that he has some space in his wardrobe, but you'll need a new one, bigger. When you're tired of dealing with the clothes, you leave him to it and move to his bathroom. And there's definitely no space in the cabinet. You sit on the floor, looking at your things, and at the space you have to put them.
“It won't fit,” you complaim, considering putting everything on a box under the bed.
“What won't fit?” Billy asks from the bedroom, but he soon comes to your aid. “Ok, let me see.” He offers his hand and you take it, pulling yourself up. “You have... Three different types of shampoo.”
“Yes,” you mutter, leaning on the door frame. “One is for when my hair is dry, the other–”
“Two types of hair conditioner.” He's having way too much fun today, you can tell by the tone of his voice there's a smile hidden.
“I couldn't choose the scent I liked more.” You have no idea why you're explaining this to him.
“And... Two types of tampons.”
“For goodness sake, Billy!” You yell, felling your whole face burning. In an insanely fast move, you take the boxes from his hand, putting them away from his sight. The smile on his face makes you want to punch him.
“Chill, princess.” Grabbing the shampoo and hair conditioner, he gets back to his feet. “We can put those in the shower organizer.”
“Mhmm.” Looking down, you're still trying to swallow the embarrassment, drumming your fingers on the wall.
“You're so cute when you're blushing, strawberry,” Billy says as he comes out of the shower box, a smirk on his lips.
“I thought you said I looked like a tomato last time.” Giggling, you step back, running from his embrace.
“Yeah, but strawberries are cute.” He moves fast, a strong arm encircling your waist and pulling you close, making you collide against his chest. “Like you.”
“Did you know that when two women live together, their cycles are likely to get in sync?” It's your time to tease now, so you make sure to give him a wicked smile.
“And?” He furrows his eyebrows.
“You'll have two girls PMSing at the same time.” You can't help but laugh at his face, as he tries to understand what you just said. “Now, are you changing your mind, baby?” Keeping your voice soft, you peck his lips.
“Billy, where–” Max swings the door open, but her words are cut short, and when you look at her, you see the reason why. There are still some clothes scattered around. “What the hell is all this?”
“Uhm...” You forgot to tell Maxine.
“(Y/N) lives here now,” Billy says, embracing your waist from behind when you turn around to face Max.
You're nervous to read her expression, but it's blank. She doesn't believe it. What if she doesn't want you here? “A-are you happy about it?”
“Are you kidding? I'll have someone else in this house to talk to other than this shithead.” Her face breaks into a smile, and you're so damn relieved. “You're really serious this time, aren't you, Billy?”
“Yeah.” He mumbles, his mouth is dangerously close to your ear.
“Well, I'll leave you two alone before I'm grossed out.” Max rolls her eyes and leaves.
Taking a deep breath, you turn around, Billy's arms never letting go of you. “So... We're dating for less than twenty-four hours and we're already living together. We're both completely crazy, Hargrove.”
“I don't see a problem with that.” Billy crushes his lips on yours, and you laugh through the kiss. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you stumble backwards as he pushes you, tasting the lips you dreamed about for so long. A groan gets caught on your throat when your hip hits his dresser before your back hits the wall, which makes you laugh again.
“Ouch!” You exclaim, faking an angry face that soon enough fades away. You wonder if you'll ever get over the sensation Billy provokes. The nervousness, the butterflies on your stomach... You slide your arms down from his neck, so you're touching his chest. You guess it's ok now, right? To look at him and want to touch him. And you're kinda upset his wearing a shirt.
“Sorry. Just can't believe I can kiss you now.”
“It's not a big deal, Billy.” Biting your lip, you look at the clock he has on the dresser beside you. “We gotta go though. Or else we'll be late again.” When you turn to look at him, his face is different. It's the same from last night, full of pain and suffering. You're about to ask what happened when you realize you gave him a good sight of your bruised cheek. Red and purple, with the scratch from Neil's ring. Your eyes fall on his wounds too, on the apple of his cheek, his lower lip and above his left eyebrow. “Baby–”
“I'm sorry, (Y/N)–”
“I'm not,” you whisper, cupping his face with your hands. “I'll say it again: I'd face a hundred Neils for you. Without thinking twice. I love you, baby.”
Slowly, a smile comes to his lips. “I like it when you call me baby.”
“Well, baby...” Pushing him away, you gesture at the clock. “We gotta go.”
You somehow managed to get to the Community Pool right on time, despite being way too playful on your way there. The fact that you're holding hands until you have to split up at the lockers gets some attention. You change into the red swimsuit before putting on the sunblock, seated on one of the benches. You're putting your hair up on a ponytail when you hear a whistle, which makes you jump, heartbeat increasing.
“No running on my watch!” You hear Billy's yell, and you can't help but laugh. The kids are terrified of him.
You're playing with the tips of your hair when you leave the locker, making the way to the chair to start the day. Knowing there's a funfair to go to makes you want the day to pass real quick. You've never been to anything like that, and it'll be good to have something new and different to do.
“(Y/N).” Someone calls and you stop, turning on your heels to see who is it. All the joy melts when you see David, walking over you. “Been a while. How are you?”
“I'm great. You?” You ask just to be polite.
“Perplexed to know you're still hanging out with Hargrove. I even heard these rumors that you're–”
“Pregnant?” You cut him off, sighing. “Yeah. But I'm not. I fainted because of heat exhaustion, that's all.“ You give a step back, turning your head at the kid's pool, trying to make him notice you're not interested in talking. You'd work for twenty-four hours non stop if it means you won't have to talk to David.
“The hell is that on your face?” He raises his voice, and you suddenly remember the bruise and cut on your cheek. You forgot the damn thing. But you hate the way he talks, as if he had any right to. David's eyebrows are furrowed, an angry expression on his face.
“It's–”
“Did he do that to you?” David looks and gestures at something behind you, and you know who it is. A second later you feel Billy behind you and you immediately feel better. “He's beat up too. What the hell–”
“We got into a fight but that not your business,” Billy says, his voice especially deep and low. Like an unspoken threat.
“You should see the other guy,” you mutter, and a small smile involuntary comes to your lips.
“(Y/N), if this asshole did that you can tell me. I can–”
“David, stop it. Billy didn't hurt me and I don't have to tell you anything.” You can feel Billy getting tense.
“What do you expect me to think when you're still hanging around this asshole and then you show up with your face all screwed up? But if you want to be his whore, be my guest, (Y/N), good luck with that.”
“Now you stepped over the line,” Billy shouts, stepping forward, burning with anger. But you know this will end badly for him since he's an employee here and David is a client. If you were anywhere else, you wouldn't lift a finger.
“Let it go, baby.” You raise your voice, moving to stand between your boyfriend and David.
“I told you I'd break his nose the next time.”
“I know, but it's not worth it.” You keep a hand on Billy's chest, but you turn to face David. “Listen up, buddy. I couldn't care less about what you think you know. We're not friends, so the next time you want to come and talk to me as if we were anything else than two people who happen to live in the same town, don't. I have a boyfriend who looks after me, I have real friends and an aunt who looks after me. I don't need you.” You keep a straight face as if the words had no meaning at all. David looks like he was hit by a train, embarrassed because he knows there are people nearby, listening. You have been noticing most of the people here don't like him very much. Can't possibly understand why. “And next time you do anything like this, I won't stop Billy.” Leaning closer, you whisper: “I might even help him beat you up a little.”
He doesn't say anything else. He just walks away, leaving the pool. You turn around to look at Billy, as he follows David with his eyes until he's gone before looking down at you. “Damn, (Y/N).”
“Damn indeed.” Smiling, you chose to ignore the public for a while, tiptoeing to kiss him. Billy wraps his arms around your waist and lifts you up. God, you can feel dozens of eyes on your back. And you don't care one bit.
“Look what we have here.” Monica's voice is what makes you pull away, being put down again. “This must mean something good, I hope.”
“Guess,” you say, winking at her. But Monica's face changed and you know why.
Her eyes fly from you to Billy then back at you. “You guys ok? Got into a fight or something?”
“I'll explain everything later. We're still going to get ready for the funfair at your place, right?”
“Yup. All our girl friends. No boys allowed.” She points a finger at Billy. Despite the light tone of her voice, you can tell she's worried.
“No boys allowed,” you repeat, tiptoeing once more to place a quick kiss on his lips. “Now, let's get to work.”
At the end of the day, you're utterly bored. But there are still two hours to go. The pools are almost empty, compared to the number of people you have here daily. People are excited about the fair and left soon to meet up with their friends, and it only makes you more excited by the minute. So you're not on your post, you're seated on the middle step of Billy's chair, in between his legs, using his sunglasses, hoping the hours will pass by faster.
But honestly, you're already done for today. “This is the worse workday ever,” you mutter, breathing out. “We could actually leave. Anthony isn't even here.” You complain, staring at a small group of teenagers across the pool.
“Let's go then.” He lightly kicks your arm.
“What?”
“Let's go.” You get up when you feel him moving, giggling as he jumps to the ground and takes your hand.
You don't even bother to change, you just get your stuff and run to the car. You're a breathless mess when he speeds away, feeling like a teenager again, running from school.
Maxine is perplexed to see both of you home so soon, and she mumbles something about expecting something like this from Billy but not from you. It just makes you laugh harder. You quickly put the rest of your clothes in their new places before you decide to chill until it's time to go. Well, you'll go to Mon's earlier and he'll meet you there.
You can't believe you're so excited about this. Maybe you're just happy about everything and it's channeling to the fair. But it'll also be the first time you and Billy will go out as boyfriend and girlfriend. Maybe it's silly to think like that, but you think it's ok to be silly for a while. You're drinking a glass of cold water by the sink, looking at the street through the window. Hawkins is beautiful, and you can't help but wonder, imagine, what it could be from now on. You mean, you still got college to go through, but you want to know what will come next. You know what you want, but you still need to know what Billy wants. But it's not the time to think about it yet. You still have a good amount of summer ahead.
Running a hand through your hair, you go back to the living room, a smile forcing its way to your lips when you see Billy on the bench press, lifting the bar over his head. “Looking good, baby,” you tell him, getting one of his famous smirks, the same that once had you hating him for a while.
“Good to know you're enjoying the view, princess.”
Your eyes suddenly fall on your glass, still half full, as an idea crosses your head. Slowly, you walk over the bench until you're right next to him, looking down. “What if I...” You turn the glass just a little bit, threatening to spill the water on his chest.
Billy doesn't stop though, raising an eyebrow at you. “You won't do it.” He says, way too confident.
“Uhum...” You mumble right before fulfilling the threat and throwing water on him.
“What the–”
Bursting into laughter, you run on the moment you see him getting up. “Can't believe you did that.” He exclaims, and you're about to reach the hall when you're grabbed from behind, an arm around your waist, lifting you up. “Give me that!” He tries to grab the glass and you struggle to keep it out of his reach.
“Stop it!” You shout in between laughs, almost losing your breath since he's holding exactly on your ticklish spot. You gasp when you feel a bunch of water on your face. “It's glass, careful.”
“You have no idea what you started.” He yells, still trying to throw what's left of the water on you.
“What's all the yelling about?” Max's voice startles both of you, and when Billy moves, his feet slips and you're suddenly pulled down with him, falling on your butt. Your laughter clouds whatever Max is saying as you just stand there, on the floor. “You're crazy, you two.” She mumbles before heading back into her room.
“I–” You're interrupted by someone blasting the horn outside, and you know it's Monica. “That's my ride,” you tell him, pushing your body up to a sitting position, looking down at Billy. “See you there?”
“I miss you already.” One of his hands comes to caress your cheek, and you bend down to place a quick kiss on his lips.
After taking the bag with your outfit for the night, you meet up with Monica on the sidewalk. She's obviously excited about the fair, and so are you. The sun is down already, and the first signs of the night are already here.
“Hanging out at Billy's, huh?” She asks as she drives away.
“Yeah...” You can't wait to tell her, but you'll wait until Billy is with you. She'll freak out, you're sure. “Things are going unbelievably well between us.”
“I can see that.” Monica gives you a look, winking. “Candace and Alice will come a little later so we'll have some time to talk. And little lady, you have a lot to talk about.”
Smiling at her, you nod, turning your head to look at the landscape outside the window. The woods fly past you, the darkness already taking over under the trees. Something moves, and you move in your seat too, trying to see what it is. You're about to tell Monica when a strange feeling builds up on your stomach, and you squint your eyes, trying to see better.
That thing is as fast as the car, easily keeping up. Then you see another one, a little slower, but still unnaturally fast. Clenching your hands into fists, you quickly notice this is not the first time you see something like this. The low light, that somehow still finds it's a way through the leaves, gives you a sudden glimpse of their skin. And just as you thought, as you hoped not to be, it's naked. Like a dark, slick skin. The face is shapeless as if it didn't have one.
Terrified, you look away, focusing on the road ahead.
“(Y/N)? Are you alright?” Monica's voice sounds distant, low.
“Yeah.” You breathe out, nodding, and clearing your throat. “I'm ok.” Forcing a smile, you say it more to yourself than to her.
This gotta be a mistake. You're probably... You don't know. Imagining it? But James saw it, the same damn thing... Whatever it is, it's not in your head. It's real. Giving another look at the woods, you look for the animals, but they're gone. You should feel relieved, but you don't. You have to tell Billy about it and then the police. Someone has to do something, find out what this... Thing is. What if it starts attacking people? What if it leaves the woods and starts going into town?
Taking a deep breath, you run a hand through your hair. You'll try to keep it together for tonight. But tomorrow, you'll do something. You have to.
×
@chloe-skywalker @dpaccione @dreamin-of-dacre @funeral-7 @uncookspaget @youhavemyfantasticbeasts @halloweenbitch2764 @redlovett @multific @shinydixon @nikkixostan
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bangtanpromptsfics · 4 years ago
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acacia.
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dialogue prompt #1: “Is this illegal?”
pairing: jungkook x reader
genre: f2l, fluff
word count: 1,590
warnings: alcohol consumption, swearing
summary: jungkook is in love with his best friend who would date anybody but him
a/n: these are meant to be for writing practice. feedback is greatly appreciated. it's really short but I hope you like this!! prompt is inspired from pinterest.
masterlist
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“Is this illegal?”
Jungkook realises you are dumb, especially with all that alcohol from the party, or more so even without it. 
He takes a sip of his beer and tries to construct a safe sentence which won't come out as rude.
“Bitch”. Well he tried. “You want to rob someone? That too his Balenciaga jacket? ”
You are referring to Namjoon who is busy chatting up girls with his dimples and loads of knowledge, for which he is mostly known. Redefining sexy or something on that line. 
He was hosting this party for reasons you don't remember now anyways, it has something to do with his never ending list of achievements. And he basically invites most of the population of college. I mean free drinks so, whatever. 
“I'm cold Kook, and his jacket looks so warm. He didn't give it when I asked him politely, so let's steal it”, you slur, shifting your body weight around enough to not have your face planted on the floor. 
“You asked him? ”, he squeaks. “You can have mine”, he is removing his denim jacket in the next second, with a look of amuse of course and drapes it over your shoulder, “feeling better?”
“Yes!”, you begin to chime, “It smells like you too!”
Jungkook’s cheeks warm up instinctively. Though sometimes you are a pain in the ass, especially drunk, he had never complained about it. He shoots death glares and unpleasant nose scrunches of course, but nothing more. He'd been your friend for so long, so he should've been used to the random appreciation you give him. He should be immune to your flirty laughs, the way you look absolutely endearing with his hoodie on your small frame and definitely not clench his fist in jealousy when you go out for dates. 
Probably a very cliche best friend in one-sided love story, but he feels so much more complications than that. He was going to confess ages ago, but since you are dumb as I said, would jump around random guys, scare them off with your mouth and wonder why you are single. 
At times he wants to blow a punch to his face, like now, for being so crazy about his best friend, and being limited to only give you some sort of bro love until it's alas the final year of college and he completely misses the chance when you go to Paris for career. 
“Talk something Kookie”, you bump shoulders together to catch the boy's attention who is in deep thought. He was indulgent in walking you to your dorm, and it reaches by ten minutes, and he really just want to fucking kiss you before you go, but he can't. 
He faces you when you rest your face on his shoulder. “What are you thinking about hm?”, you ask. 
“Nothing”. Liar. 
“Well then I have something to say”, you remove your face and gaze on the ground, feeling a little sad already. 
For a second he is hopeful and he doesn't know why. “What about?”
“Yesterday’s date”. Ouch. But as always he is trying his best, “Oh totally forgot about it. How did it go? Any luck? ”
“He stood me up. That asshole didn't even show up. I guess he just wanted sex”, you kick a pebble out of frustration while Jungkook wants to kick his face. It breaks him that he doesn't stand a chance to show you how much you can be loved. That you are more than the body all boys crave and go. 
This time he kicks a pebble, and it jumps fairly up to land on some car’s window. 
“Careful”, you chuckle, “I don't have money for concession”.
“Y/n, why don't you understand when I say someone is playing you? I always warn you, but you choose to do your bullshit anyway”. He is aggressive, but he's just sad; broken. And even though you get it, it sets you off. 
“I am trying to find my soul mate”.
Jungkook couldn't help but laugh out loud, he thinks you are so innocent, so naive to let people run you over because of how soft your heart is. He even bends a little to catch his knees to support himself. 
“What?”, you scoff, crossing your hands across the chest. 
“You want to go on a date?”, he asks. And it takes him off guard too, more than you. But he seemed confident for the first time. Probably because the sober you doesn't remember the drunk you even in the slightest, or perhaps he thinks it'll go right. 
“Date?”, you repeat, “With you?”
“Yeah”
“Like… right now?”
“Yes”, he puts out his hand, waiting for you to join hands. 
What's the worst thing that's going to happen anyways? It's Jungkook, that one person who would give his life to protect you. 
He doesn't say anything for the rest of the walk. It's a bit rushed because he can't simply wait. A whole thunderstorm is rushing inside his veins and he wants to make everything about this just perfect. So perfect that you forget about every date you have ever been too. 
This is surely not the best date he had planned if he ever took you out, but it sounds alright on his mind and wishes it does the same on yours too. 
After a stroll, you're waiting for Jungkook behind some rented building. He returns with a ladder; enough to make it to the first floor. 
He makes sure to stand behind you and assure your safety. The rest of the way up was stairs, several tiring floors and heavy breath. 
He observes your face forms an ‘O’ out of surprise. 
At the rooftop of this building sits the most beautiful view of the city and thankfully starry sky to make things better. 
It's Jungkook’s self-reflection space to be exact. There were things he shared with you of course, you were each other's shoulder to cry on, but ever since he caught feelings for you, he is just afraid he'll end up ranting into a sudden confession and ruin the friendship. 
So he found other ways to cope. You however were convinced that it was some sort of “change” over time. Everyone changes and you believed it was just something of that sorts. 
“It's so beautiful! ”, you grin, “How come you never bring me here you meanie! ”, you smack his arm as you sit down on the ground beside him. 
“I was going too! ”, he fights back,  rubbing his arm. 
“This is a perfect date”, you begin after some moment of silence, “how come you don't go for relationships!? Girls will be so happy to be treated this way! ”
The first part of the sentence makes his chest warm out of pride, but it collapses to where it was before as you end. 
He just knows you'll never know how he feels unless he just says it, without beating around the bush. 
He doesn't say anything and instead gets up to take two cans of beer he had hid somewhere. You are way past your alcohol limit and acting knowingly for once, you reject. 
He opens his and chugs down half of it in one go. 
“Woah… hey Kookie you alright? ”, he flinches when your palm presses against his shoulder. 
“I want to kiss you really bad”.
Bad line of start. 
Your cheeks burn and turn vibrant shades of scarlet, expecting anything but that. But the more you continue to look at him, the more ethereal he looks; attractive, and someone definitely not deserving of petty friend zoning. 
He feels a pair of lips on his cheeks, startling him. He turns around to see your face breathtakingly close. 
He is really slow, studying every clue you give, once he is certain he is doing this with consent, he places both of his palms on your cheek and leans in. 
Jungkook wants to pinch himself because he thinks he is sleeping and it's just another one of his blissful day dreams. But when you nibble on his bottom lip, he thinks maybe not. You are really here, hands on his hair and kissing him. He holds your head more firmly as he begins to dominate the kiss, ambitious to let you know what he had been thinking about you for the past several years. 
His lips are flushed and glossy when you break off of him, but hands still on his body, on his shoulder, taking your time to catch your breath. 
“Y/n...I hope it's clear now. I like you. Like… . I really like you. And it had been killing me for years whenever I see you going behind other guys, sleeping with them just because they agree to take you on a date. Please Y/n, will you give me a…chance”.
Since the author had enough of Y/n’s dumbness as well, the story continues with Y/n accepting him, realising how blind she was. 
You feel already intoxicated by his lips so you give it a peck and hug him, “Yes Koo. And I'm sorry, for all this, and thank you so much for this date, I am looking forward to our second one”, you beam. 
He finds it cute how you think soulmates exist. He doesn't know about all that. He just knows you can make him happy and every heartbreak for you was worth it. So he smiles and nods, nothing conveyed after, until he takes you back to your dorm and kisses you one last time for the day. 
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Thank you so much for reading!!
Original Content of ©bangtanpromptsfics
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swordandquill · 4 years ago
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Title: Winter Break
Fandom: Leverage
Summary: The team find themselves snowed in in a little town in the middle of nowhere.
Ch 2: Fussing - Nate has to choose between supervising a shopping spree or supervising a grumpy hitter. He definitely chooses the lesser evil.
Author’s Note: I still don’t know where this story is going or when the next update will be. 
Many, many thanks to @whumpybliss for beta reading this chapter!
You can go here to read this on AO3 instead.
"I know what you're trying to do."
Eliot's glare was less impressive than usual, but Nate still would have bet his money on him. Not that he wouldn't always bet on Eliot, and with things much more valuable to him than money.
"Trying to get you to eat saltines, so you don't throw up when you take the prescription strength anti-inflammatories I know you have in your bag?" Nate waved the open sleeve of crackers in front of the hitter.
"Stop fussing," Eliot snapped and snatched the sleeve out of Nate's hand.
Now that Parker had pointed it out, Nate could clearly see Eliot was favoring his left arm. Or, possibly because Parker had pointed it out, Eliot was putting less effort into hiding it.
"They shouldn't be in there alone," Eliot pulled a few crackers out of the sleeve and shoved it back at Nate.
"They're not alone," Nate swapped the sleeve for a water bottle from the grocery bag at his feet, "they have each other. We might be living off of orange soda and Trix for the next two weeks, but I think they'll get each other out of the store in one piece."
Eliot gave him a dubious look but refrained from talking with his mouth full.
"Anyway, I'm listening," Nate tapped the comm he had slipped into his ear.
"Where's my…?" Eliot frowned and tried to reach behind the seat for his bag, wincing hard at the twisting motion.
"Stop it," Nate thumped his side lightly with the back of his hand, "I've got them. Parker hasn't managed to convince Sophie that Froot Loops are both a vegetable and a fruit. Sophie is giving her tips on being persuasive, and Hardison doesn't know the difference between a zucchini and a cucumber, but one of them has made it into the basket."
"How have they made it this far without dying of malnutrition?" Eliot let his head flop back against the headrest.
"Cereal is fortified," Nate said dryly and poked Eliot with the water bottle, "which bag are your meds in?"
"It can wait until we get to the cabin," Eliot grabbed the offending bottle away without opening his eyes.
Nate didn't have to wrangle an injured Eliot often. Most of the time, he was more than capable of managing his own injuries. When he wasn't, Nate usually let Parker take the lead in poking and prodding while he helped Hardison track down whatever medical help their hitter needed.
Parker needed to burn off some energy, though, and Nate would rather supervise a cranky Eliot than his team on a shopping spree. He had trailed Eliot through the first aid aisle, listened to him mutter over spices and knives on the baking aisle, and then dragged him back to the van with saltines and water bottles in hand.
"Just take the anti-inflammatory," Nate argued, "it won't make you drowsy, and the longer you wait, the less well they'll work."
"Stop. Fussing." Eliot growled, somehow managing to drink his water angrily. Nate was always impressed by how Eliot could make the most mundane tasks look threatening. Luckily for him and the rest of the team, Nate was not easily intimidated.
"Just for the sake of argument..." Nate started.
"No," Eliot said flatly.
"We're stuck in the car until Hardison picks a shampoo. Humor me," Nate ignored Hardison's protests over the comm about his sensitive scalp.
"They need to hurry," Eliot groused, 'the snow is getting worse."
"Right," Nate agreed and held the sleeve of saltines out to Eliot again. He was disproportionately pleased when the hitter grabbed a few more without protest, "so let's just say there really is some shadowy figure waiting behind the curtain to get us…"
Eliot raised an eyebrow at that, probably cross-checking his mental list of people who matched that description, but Nate ignored him.
"And they orchestrated stranding the five us in this specific tiny town, in the middle of nowhere, by waiting until we were both split up on five different planes, and there was a massive storm front to force our flights here…"
"Look, I know…" Eliot rubbed his eyes tiredly.
"Which is possible," Nate continued to ignore him, "highly unlikely, but possible. After all, shady figures are usually good at seizing opportunity when they see it. So let's say all of that is true. What's their next move? Where do they expect us to be?"
Eliot frowned before reluctantly admitting, "They expect us to be stranded, at the airport or one of the hotels."
"Right," Nate nodded, "and even if they somehow anticipated us renting a summer house, it would be almost impossible to control which summer house we rented. Hardison must have skimmed through a half dozen search pages worth before we went after this one."
Eliot's frown deepened as he worked the problem and thought how he would have managed something like this from the other side. Nate let him be for a minute because he was still eating crackers while he thought, seemingly without noticing.
"There are ways they could stack the deck in their favor," he finally said slowly. "Knowing what we would want in a place to lay low, making it available even though it looked unavailable, monitoring Hardison for the search criteria he was using, then populating it with multiple properties that they have control of."
"Possible," Nate conceded, "ridiculously elaborate and unnecessarily complicated, but possible."
"So, one of your plans, basically," Eliot snorted.
"I don't have the patience to wait on mother nature," Nate let the jab slide, "my point is, the best thing we can do in this situation is not be where we're most likely to be. The rest, we'll just have to deal with as it comes."
"I know that. It's just…" Eliot just looked worn out now, tired of having to run through every scenario and possibility for every given moment.
Nate had figured out fairly early on that Eliot's paranoia was rooted in both a lot of experience and a lot of trauma. It meant they would be idiots to ignore him when he said something was wrong (and Nate had, unfortunately, been that idiot on more than one occasion, although he tried not to be these days), but they also needed to be a second check on those things for him sometimes, because he could always work his way around to those perceived threats being possible, even if they weren't probable.
It had gotten a lot better over the years, and the team had gotten better at finding ways to help him deal with it when it did come up. There was never a perfect solution, but they were more than happy to settle for an imperfect one if it made things at least a little better.
"And we'll deal with everything a lot better if you just take your diclofenac," Nate cut him off again, "so what bag is it in?"
"Duffel," Eliot conceded defeat finally, "they really do need to hurry."
"I know," Nate turned around and started sifting through the bags they had tossed into the third row of seats, "they're almost done."
Parker had been sitting in the back row, and she had rearranged the luggage that hadn't fit in the trunk to make a nest of sorts for herself around the middle seat. Nate had to practically crawl over the back of the middle row to reach Eliot's duffel bag, and he only felt a little bad for messing up her carefully crafted arrangement.
Eliot carried prescription meds with him and had for as long as Nate had known him. He had worried at first about the bottle of oxi that was always packed in the hitter's personal medkit. In hindsight, he could see the hypocrisy of constantly watching Eliot for signs of opioid addiction while simultaneously getting blackout drunk on a regular basis.
It had only taken a couple months for that concern to shift from Eliot taking too many painkillers to getting Eliot to take them at all. Two years in, and Nate had been worrying about why Eliot felt like jobs would leave him in enough pain on a regular enough basis that he would need to always have that level of painkiller with him. These days, Eliot and meds were mostly a bargaining act, a give and take informed by context and where Eliot's head was at at the given moment.
Oxi made him disoriented and dizzy; he wouldn't take it if he didn't feel safe. Diclofenac made him nauseous if he didn't take it with food (sometimes even when he did). Of the two problems, that was the easier one to solve.
Nate finally managed to find Eliot's duffel bag and pulled the medkit out, tossing the bag back in the pile of luggage for Parker to rearrange and poke through to her heart's content once they got back to the van.
"You want one or two?" Nate opened the kit and sorted through the neatly labeled bottles.
"Just one," Eliot was slumped back against the headrest again, eyes closed.
"You're out of Zofran," Nate shook the empty bottle.
"I gave the last of it to Sophie when we hit that patch of turbulence on the way in for the job," Eliot said dismissively, "it's fine. I'll refill it later."
Nate handed the pill and another water bottle over to Eliot, then texted Parker and asked her to get a bottle of Zofran from the pharmacy. A little thievery would do her good after 8 hours on a plane.
Eliot took the pill, and the van went comfortably quiet aside from the rest of the team's chatter in Nate's ear. It was surprisingly relaxing to listen in on them doing something as mundane as arguing over pasta sauce and gummy frog brands. They were on the comms a lot, but during jobs, there was a certain amount of tension, the constant need to be assessing and reassessing everything that happened.
Nate didn't care what kind of pasta sauce they got, and he didn't like gummy frogs, but it was nice just to sit back and listen to them be together.
There was suddenly weight against his shoulder, and Nate held still as Eliot gradually slumped more heavily against him, eyes closed and breath even. Nate waited until he was sure he was settled before shifting to get an arm around him and stop him from sliding down too far. Eliot fidgeted in his sleep for a moment, then relaxed with a soft sigh.
It wasn't that unusual for Eliot to sleep around them, but after how keyed up he had been at the airport, having him resting solid and relaxed against his side felt like winning.
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igotyouniverse · 4 years ago
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Breathe Me - Chapter 1 [nct vamp au]
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Description: After dropping out of college and coming home for the first time in two years, 22-year-old Ava Lee gets caught up in a mystery surrounding the people she thought she knew for so long. Between friendship, affairs and true love the young women finds herself being pulled into a  nightmare she would never wake up from.
Pairing: Oc x Taeyong , Oc x Johnny [several side-pairing involving Mark, Ten, Lucas and Jaehyun.]
Included Members: Taeyong, Johnny, Mark, Lucas, Ten, Jaehyun, Doyoung, Haechan (maybe more)
Genre: Drama, Romance, Angst, Action, Fantasy
Warnings: none (this chapter)
suggestive content, strong language, violence, blood, death. probably more, not sure yet (later chapters)
a/n: Here it comes! After years of procrestination I finally managed to write the very first (very boring) chapter of my vampire au with nct! Anyway, the main drama will start in the next chapter so stay patient and bear this one with me. It took me long enough, haha. All the warnings will be for later chapters so don't start reading if u dont feel like reading stuff like that qq If someone wants to get tagged please send me a message, ask, comment or whatever qq
I really hope you guys enjoy it, it was a very heavy birth. ♥
ch.2 || ch. 3
                                                   †
The girl sighed deeply and took a look outside the small airplane window. She saw how the plane slowly drove into the prepared parking lot and felt how her level of anxiety rose with each second. Even though the flight was 18 hours long and her legs started to hurt she didn't want to stand up. Standing up meant for her to actually leave the plane, get her luggage and meet her family which would sooner or later lead to them asking all these questions. It wasn't like she didn't miss them.
She missed them very dearly. She missed the Sunday morning brunches with her neighbours, the movie nights where her dad would always pick out a movie because he'd pout if not, she even missed  her little brother Mark bursting into her room without knocking and asking her some totally stupid questions. She missed catching up with her best friend. She missed all these sleepovers when all they had to worry about was who the cutest boy at school was and what they'll do together once they were adults. She craved for all these past memories. The last time she set foot onto this ground was two years ago at her very first spring break after leaving home, moving to a town thousand of miles away, not knowing anyone.
She heard a beeping noise which indicated that the passengers could stand up and get out but she waited. All of them seemed in such a hurry to leave the plane, grabbing their belongings, everyone trying to get out first which ended in a crowded queue inside of the plane. She stretched her legs as much as possible, not making the slightest move to stand up.
Her eyes wandered back to the window, allowing her to take a glance at the sky, she wished to be into again. It was still quite bright outside, even though it was nearly evening, the sun nearly blinding her when she looked up, leading her to cover her eyes with her hand. The sunsets were so different in the States than here, in South Korea. Her eyes tried to focus on the slowly fading sun, leaving the sky in beautiful pinks and oranges with just a hint of soft white clouds.
Her mind started to spin, thinking about all the things she had to explain to her family sooner or later. But for now she needed to stay positive and hide the fact that she – the oh-so-perfect – student managed to drop out of a university, her parents nearly went insolvent to pay for to allow their daughter to get the best medical education they could think of. At the beginning the girl actually thought that it was her biggest dream to become a famous surgeon but after a short while she had to face the ugly truth that the job she so desperately wanted to do as long as she could remember just wasn't her thing.
She tried so badly to keep on and thought that it's just a phase every young adult went through when they started university but every time she talked to her friends at university she saw that that wasn't exactly the case. Everyone was so focused and motivated to become a successful doctor or surgeon they underwent the torture of endless sleepless nights, insane pressure and the feeling of not being able to even cut an onion correctly, which the professor didn't even care to make better. Every day she got told that she would never be able to work in the medical field and could try herself with some more basic and easy studies. It didn't matter how hard she tried to remember all the lectures and do her assignments – she failed miserably at everything.
Of course, her family didn't know. She was way too afraid to burst the bubble her parents created around her, leaving her in that perfect, white spotlight, portraying her like some sort of angel on a pedestal for everyone to see. They loved to talk about her in front of everyone, telling them that she'd be a successful surgeon, working hard and publishing groundbreaking articles, making herself a name in the medical community. Maybe even getting some famous award. Everyone in that small town knew about the smart daughter who got into one of the best medical universities in the United States, who worked so hard she was barely home.
She couldn't bear to see the disappointment on their faces once they see what she really was – a failure. She managed to hide her dropping out of university so well, she created her web of lies carefully over the last year, she sometimes even believed what she was saying. But as soon as her alarm clock went off, remembering her to go to work at a small corner café to pay her rent and even save some money in case her parents might throw her out, she had to face real life again. The life in which she dropped out only one year after starting, loosing hundreds of thousands of dollars and leaving the incident in her resume forever.
She was glad she got a job in the café as it belonged to the parents of one friend she met at college, who managed to get in because of a scholarship. They allowed her to work as much as she could to save money and even helped her sometimes.
“Excuse me, Miss?”, a soft and gentle voice made the girl leave her deep thoughts and look up. A beautiful, young flight attendant smiled down at her. “You need to leave the plane, please.”, she said in sweet yet demanding voice  and got her luggage out of the cabinet above for her. The girl didn't realise that the plane was already as good as empty. She thanked the attendant, grabbed her bag and went out of the plane into the airport, feeling her legs shaking more with each step she took.
She pulled out her smartphone, turning off flight mode only to get bombarded with dozens of messages, mostly from her mom asking if she already landed and that they waited for her at the gate. After that she only texted emojis. Hearts, heart-eyes and some other stuff which made her feel even more anxious. How could she disappoint a mother as proud as her? No, she needed to keep her secret for a bit longer. Maybe until her brother messed up. But what could he possibly mess up which would overshadow her dropping out of college? Maybe if he committed a crime.
Mark was different from her, She didn't know how but he actually managed to tell their parents that he doesn't want to become a doctor or lawyer, and instead insisted of becoming an author or journalist. To say her parents were unhappy would be an understatement. They were more than angry and told him to pay the tuition himself. They believed it was just a small teenage dream he had but when he finished High School and started working at the local bookstore to save some money to actually study creative writing they realized that he was serious. That small incident happened just 14 months ago, yet he continued to work there and save up. He even managed to visit her every couple of months, as she didn't want to come.
When she arrived at the luggage claim the suitcases were already out on the baggage belt and she waited as long as she could, watching her lonely suitcase making its turns on the device, purposely ignoring it until it was the only one left and she had to grab it. Her phone vibrated in her pocket again.
Mark [06.07pm]: Where r u?
She rolled her eyes and just put it back in the pocket of her jeans as she headed towards the exit. The girl took a deep breath, putting on the brightest smile she could manage and stepped out of the doors. Her family wasn't hard to notice. Her parents held a way too big and bright  banner in their hands
WELCOME HOME AVA
Ava tried to keep her smile up and waved at them. “Oh, honey welcome home!”, her mother shouted as she lowered the banner to hug her daughter tightly. “I'm so happy you're finally home again, our doctor!.”, she said and patted her back softly. She felt her dad joining the hug and giving her a warm smile as well, joining her mother in telling her how happy he was to have her back home. Ava clenched her jaw, trying to smile as honest as possible.
“You're really squishing me to death guys.”, Ava chuckled and was glad when her parents finally let go of her. She looked up and saw her brother Mark smiling at her.
“Come on, give your favourite sister a hug.”, the girl laughed, making her brother chuckle before embracing her in a loving hug as well. The last time she saw him he visited the campus a few months ago. Of course he didn't know she dropped out then and nearly choked on his water when she told him. She knew he wouldn't tell their parents but he thought it would be better if she told their parents as soon as possible, which she didn't of course.
“Happy to have you back.”, Mark said and squeezed his sister one more time before he let her go and took her suitcase.
Ava stretched her body slowly before getting into their car, really not wanting to sit down for another hour but apparently she had to. As soon as she sat down and put on her seat belt her mother turned around to look at her and smiled.
“Tell us, honey, how is Stanford? Is it going well, yes?”, she asked and Ava felt like she needed to throw up.
“Yeah, everything is fine. I handed in all assignments last week and I have a good feeling.”, she chuckled and felt guilt crawling all over her body. She smiled slightly and turned her eyes away to avoid her mother proud gaze, yet she could feel Mark eyeing her.
“Ah, that's so great, honey. Your father and I just talked to the Lee's from across the street and they told us their son wants to apply to Stanford, too. We told them you could talk to him and give some advice.”
“Sure.”, she just sighed and pulled out her phone again, hoping her mother would understand her silent plead to leave her be. Her mother smiled again and turned back to talk to her father about what she'd make for dinner on this special occasion.
Ava checked the other texts she got, scrolling through them. She smiled when she saw a text from her best friend, sending her a picture from her in her nurse uniform. She looked so cute, proudly standing in front of the mirror in the dressing room, posing with a finger heart.
[Ava 06.54pm] Cute! Just landed, on my way home. Wanna hang out later?
[Yunmi 06.57pm] Can't. Night shift today but pick me up tomorrow morning and get breakfast? The café next to the bookstore finally opened!
[Ava 07.00pm] absolutely! Can't wait. Miss you so much ♥
She scrolled through the remaining texts just to feel a little disappointment in her body after not seeing what she so desperately wanted to see. But then again, she didn't expect to see a text from him after he ignored each and everyone of hers the last two years. He didn't even care enough to wish her a happy birthday in November so he probably couldn't care less texting her when she came home.
She sighed lightly and looked outside the car window, seeing how the landscape came and go in front of her eyes and how the sky got all these beautiful colours in it, she could even see the moon already. A wave of tiredness crashed over her exhausted body as she decided to close her eyes for just  a moment.
The girl felt someone poking her arm multiple times, calling her name.
“Wake up, we're home.”, she heard Mark say and groaned, before rubbing her eyes.
“Yes, I'm awake, you can stop poking me.”, she said when her brother continued to poke her arm with a grin on his face.
“Don't make me hit you.”, she warned and slapped his hand away.
“Pff, please.” he answered mockingly and jumped out of the car before her fist could reached his body.
Ava chuckled , getting out of the car stretching her stiff body slowly, hearing all her joints crack at once.
“How old are you? 80?” Mark said teasingly, getting out her suitcase from the trunk.
“Trust me, I feel like it.”, she yawned loudly and slowly got up the stairs to their house.
She inhaled the sweet and calming scent of her mothers vanilla candles as soon as she set foot into the house, taking of her shoes before she walked further inside. It hasn't changed a bit. The beige coloured walls still had pictures of the family on them. Ava smiled and looked at the picture of her and her family from her Highschool graduation three years ago. She smiled when she saw the exact picture her parents had chosen. Mark and her making some weird pose while her parents rolled their eyes.
“Honey, dinner will be ready in half-an-hour, okay?” she didn't realize that her mother was standing right next to her and flinched a bit.
“Yeah, sure, thank you, mom. I'll start to unpack then. Love you.”, Ava said, kissing her mothers cheek softly before going up the stairs into her old room where Mark already put her suitcase and bag.
Her room hasn't changed either. Of course, it looked a bit colder as she took all her personal stuff with her to the US when she moved out, but it still felt comfy with it's cozy beige sofa and her queen sized bed, which her mother already prepared for her. She closed the door behind her and looked outside the big windows, which connected to a small balcony, which was only hers. She remembered how mad Mark was when she got the room with the balcony and not him and grinned. She stepped outside for a moment to breathe in the still warm air, listening to the rustling sound of the trees as a mild breeze blew through them.
The small wooden bench she made herself with her dad back when she was younger still stood in the very same corner and even had pillows on it and a blanket, indicating that someone still used it even while she was gone. Probably her mother when she wanted to have some time and space for herself, she thought and smiled before going back into her room.
She stretched her stiff body once again before squatting down and opening her black suitcase to unpack her things. Ava only brought some clothes and other necessities with her as she didn't believe of staying home for a longer period of time. She rented her tiny apartment, or as she preferred to call it, her shoebox to a friend from university who looked for her own place as long as she stayed with her parents so she didn't need to worry about paying rent. So she just packed her essentials and hoped to keep her pretty little lie for some more months to figure out what she actually wanted to do with her situation now. She wasn't even sure if she wanted to stay in Stanford . She just knew, she didn't want to stay here in this tiny town where everyone knows everyone.
She loved the size of New York, she loved the vibes, the people and even the stink it had. It was charming in some kind of way and she enjoyed the anonymity she had. She liked living in the famous city which never sleeps but it didn't feel like a complete home to her yet and maybe never would. Not to mention, that she was just working in a café which was barely enough to live so she needed to get something more permanent very soon. But she had no idea what that could be. Maybe she'd apply to another university, maybe she didn't want to go to college at all. But what were her options anyway?
Ava groaned, throwing a stack of clothes into her closet in frustration, before squatting down again to fold them neatly. She felt her phone vibrating in the pocket of her jeans and sighed when she saw the name of the person who messaged her blinking in front of her. She opened it and thought about her answer for several minutes before she decided to ignore it for the moment and maybe get back to it later, unsure about her wanting to meet the sender or not.
She furrowed her eyes as she looked at the clock hanging at one of her walls, showing that it was way later than she expected and her mother still hadn't called for dinner yet. She put the last of her belongings in the connected bathroom she shared with her brother and checked her phone to make sure she didn't receive a text from him telling her dinner is ready. Ava didn't realize how hungry she was until she thought about the dishes her mother was probably busy making and her mouth started to water. She really missed good Korean food. There were quite some Korean restaurants in New York but of course nothing tasted as good as her mother's home cooked meals.
Just as she wanted to open her door and check downstairs she heard her mother shout from the kitchen that dinner was finally ready. She opened her door and could already smell the kimchi and meat her mother apparently made and couldn't wait to finally taste it.
“Coming! I'm getting Mark”, Ava shouted back and wanted to knock on Marks door, telling him to come down but the boy who opened the door wasn't her brother.
“Oh, hey Ava. Haven't seen you in forever. How are you?”, Johnny asked, seemingly surprised but a small smile appeared on his pretty face.
He hasn't changed a tiny bit. He still looked as gorgeous as three years ago when she left and never heard of him again. His hair was still black but a tad longer than before. It framed the contours of his face just perfectly which made it hard for her to look away and think about how she was mad at him for ignoring her for the past years, even though the last thing she remembered with him was actually something very nice. Or that's at least what she thought it was. Apparently he thought differently and had to treat her like air. Not even daring to step a foot in their house when she came home for spring break once.
“Umm, fine. Are you staying for dinner?”, she asked, trying to sound as calm as possible but she couldn't hide a tint of anger in her voice, yet the anger mixed up with other feelings she was way too bad at hiding.
“Yeah, I invited him. He basically lives here anyway.”, she heard Mark say behind Johnny who didn't seem to sense her displeasure over his invitation. Why do they have to be best friends? She asked herself and secretly hoped for Johnny to disappear or something. But of course that wouldnÄt happen.
“Please, the food gets cold, come down.”, she heard her mother saying from the foot of the stairs with her hands stemmed in her hips, still wearing her red-dotted apron.
“Actually, I'm not hungry.”, Ava said taking a step away from Johnny as his simple presence made her legs feel stupidly weak.
Her statement got quite unbelievable when her stomach started to growl from the heavenly scent of her mother's food.
“Doesn't sound like it.”, Mark said and raised his brow looking at his sister questionably.
“I'm really not hungry and I'm meeting a friend. Can we postpone our family dinner to another time?”, she said while purposely emphasising the term family to show her displeasure about the clearly unwanted guest guest.
Before her mother could answer something Ava ran down the stairs, giving her mother another short kiss before running outside, leaving her house behind.
She took a deep breath before letting out some vulgar curses towards the situation and especially the person causing her to still feel all these things.
Ava pulled out her phone and messaged the only person she could think of, who might get her thoughts somewhere else, even if she might regret it in the morning.
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jinxthequeergirl · 5 years ago
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Teenage Rebellion's
Steve Harrington x Hopper! Reader
(Mainly a little more of a father daughter reader)
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Requested by @melxoxo23 : " A story, where you're hoppers daughter and dating steve.with angst maybe?, but with a happy ending and include joyce too! Please and thank youuuu!"
Warning: swearing/ angst/ a small fight between pops and daughter
Hope you like it?!
~~~~~~~
You crawled through Steve's window instantly catching his attention. "What are you doing here?"
"What aren't you happy to see me, harrington?" you asked a but offended by his greeting as you shut the window.
"Yes I'm just...surprised." He got up from his spot on the bed and quickly moved to place his hands around your waist. "That was the point dumbass." you teased, wrapping your arms around his neck and leaning in to kiss him. He smiled and kissed back.
He lifted you up and spun you around earning a laugh from you before setting you on the bed.
"Your dad is going to kill you if he finds out your here...maybe he'll kill me first." He said from above you. you smirked knowingly at him, and took a glance at the time on his nightstand.
" silly boy you underestimate me!" you pushed him off top of you and sat up. "It's currently 11: 35 meaning Magnum p.I. just finished up an hour ago. I, knowing everything about my father, knew that he goes to bed at exactly ten on the dot! giving me about twenty minutes to make sure he feel asleep before slipping out my window and into yours!" you booped him upon saying the last word, and slung your legs over his lap with a smile. "And your sister?"
"Sleep over with max." you said with a grin. "Now are you complaining about this or would you rather come over tomorrow and deal with three inches?" with out another word he moved in and kissed you.
It wasn't a secret that something had been different with you for the past couple of weeks. You had been pushing to do things you never once wanted to do, you started planing things around your father. Steve started taking note of these things but didn't say anything thinking it would pass. He pulled away scraching the back of his neck.
"What's wrong?"
"I was actually going to ask you the same thing." You looked at him confused. "C'mon you've been acting... different this past week."
"I have not..." He gave an unconvinced look. "I..." you groaned and feel back onto his bed. You pat the space beside you and he laied next to you.
"In all honesty...I Have no idea, like I feel I should but I don't just everytime my dad tells me not to do something it just pisses me off so I go against it! And lately it's worse I just feel like he...well...you get the point for the most part."
"Just a little teenage rebellion never hurt anyone." You chuckled lightly and snuggled into him. "I guess..."
"It'll pass over."you hummed in response and shut your eyes. "Hey don't let me fall asleep, I need to get home..." you muttered already pretty drowsy.
"No..no..I Promise.." he mumbled resting his chin on top of your head eyes slowly shutting. Soon enough you where both asleep.
"I'm telling you it's that harrington kid! He's nothing but a bad influence on her now!" joyce looked at hopper as he paced back and forth in front of her. "Well I think Steve is a nice guy." she said simply looking back down at the cash register.
"That's what he wants you to think!"
Joyce scrunched her noise in conduction. "Why would Steve want you to THINK he's nice?"
Hopper threw his hands up before placing them on the edge of the counter. "I Don't know!"
"I think maybe it's another one of those issues where you just need to talk to her!" Hopper opened his mouth but shut it when Steve's car pulled up outside.
Both adults watched you hop out after giving him a kiss. "Morning joyce! Hey dad." You slid on your blue vest that matched the one Joyce wore. "Where the hell were you this morning!"
"I accidentally slept over at Steve's last night. Not a big deal!"
"Not a big deal? Y/n I didn't know where you went! I thought something happened! When did you even leave?"
"I told you last night."
"When!?"
"God why do you even care!? I'm here alive and breathing! Nothing happened last night either!"
"Listen I don't know what this little teen rebellion thing you have going on but I've had enough! Enough of the disrespect and the lying and just everything from you now!"
You rolled your eyes and started towards the back to start working, but hopper only followed you. "Hey! Do not walk away from me when I AM talking to you! You know I think this Harrington kid I proving to be-"
You whirled around angrily. "You leave Steve out of this! It's NOT his fault I'm acting like this! It's YOUR own!"
He stoped taken aback by this. "What did you say?"
"It's your own damn fault I'm acting like this you are just to...to..ugh dense to realise that! To dense or stupid!"
His eyes widened. "Really? Well if I can't realise that maybe I don't know you anymore! You might as well be a stranger! You might as well not live under the same roof!"
"What are you kicking me out now because of this!?"
"Well I mean you wanna sneak out stay away as long as you can maybe I am." it was your turn to state at him suprised.
"Hop..." neither of you had realised Joyce was following trying her best to cool the both of you off. "Good. Fine! It's not like you'll notice you act like you have one daughter anyways!" you stormed to the front of the store the last part of your scentence sinking in.
"Wait what does that mean!? Where are you going!?"
"Get my stuff from your place! You want me out so fucking bad!" He stopped as the door slammed shut.
"Goddamn it!" He fumbled around for his keys until Joyce came up beside him and took them. "Hopper no! You need to stay here, I will go talk her! You need to cool down...I'll be back."
She quickly pushed the door open and hurried down the street to you.
"Y/n! Y/n!"
"Yes?" you snapped turning to her.
"Are you ok? What's going on with you?"
You stopped and stared at her searching very deep down inside. After telling steve last night something else came to mind something you thought was stupid and selfish. Something you swore you would just ignore but the more and more It stuck in your brain the more It made you want to act out.
"Y/n?.." Joyce moved closer to you and rubbed away a tear that started to fall from your face.
"I'm going to sound like a five year old of I tell you."
"Thats ok..." You both sat down on the curb and you took a breath.
"Every Sunday...dad would make French toast since it was my favioret...we had this silly superstion that if he made the first on properly the rest would turn out bad."
You started to cry just thinking of it and joyce simply placed a hand over yours as she listened. "So he always burnt the first one, that's how I would know he was making breakfast, because I would be waken up by the smell of burning bread." You both chuckled as you paused to wipe away tears.
"And every Friday we would rent a movie every Friday no matter what...It didnt matter if he was tired he would come home and take me to family video and we would pick a movie, we never finished then because we would both fall asleep...but that changed when he adopted el." You sighed using your free hand to play with your shoe laces.
"I love el so much, there is nothing in this world that could make me think other wise. But I get the feeling that nothing I do is ever as good as anything she could do in my dads eyes, I feel like I come on second now! And I miss our stupid old traditons!"
"So you did this as a way to get his attention?..."
You looked at her. "I guess in a weird toddler way of acting out yea.."
"It's not weird...love can make us do crazy things...even make us rebell against the people we love..."
"Yea...I guess it does." you smiled softly.
"But I think maybe you should talk to him tell him You miss doing things like that and miss spending time with him..."
You where scilent. "We could even go back together and tell him?"
So the both of you walked back to the store hopper stood there anxiously before you two came back in.
You both started to speak at the same time. "Let me it's my fault so just hear me out? And if by the end this you can...well you can kick me out if you want?"
He pulled you into a hug. "I don't think that gonna happen kiddo."
~a week later~
"What are you wearing?"
You looked over to your dad with a smile as you stepped out of your room. "What? It's...how would you put it? Cutting edge!" You joked making him laugh.
Things where better, a lot better no more teenage rebellion from you now that things where explained and fixed. There was a knock at the door catching both your attention.
"I'll get it!" you hurried across the room And opened the door. "El there here!" you stepped aside letting steve, Mike and joyce enter. Steve greeted you with a warm hug and kiss.
"Evening Sir." Steve said nervously after shutting the door.
"Relax kid, you can call me hopper. What movie did you get?"
You lead Steve to the couch as he looked through the bag. "Well everyone had different suggestions so out choices are. The breakfast club, ghost busters, American werwolf in london, pretty in pink, and Nightmare on elm street."
"I vote pretty in pink!" joyce said taking a seat next to hopper.
"No girly movie! Nightmare on elm street!" Mike chilled in. "Are you two even old enough to see that?" steve asked. Soon enough everyone started arguing over the movie.
You smiled at hopper and he offered you the same one knowing what would happen no matter what they picked.
"Ok Ok put the werewolf one on! Mike where are the snacks!" Hopper said quickly shutting every one up. Mike handed him the bag full of candy and snack before passing them out.
You curled up onto the couch next to Steve as the movie began
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cornycornflakes · 5 years ago
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39. I'm flattered when you're jealous
I’m sorry it took me so long to write it, but I was on vacation. Anyway here it is and I really hope you’ll like! P.S.: I'm very flattered that I got an ask from one of the best Jopper writers! :)
FIND IT ON AO3 HERE
I’m flattered you’re jealous
Friday, July 5th 1985
"So you weren't kidding when you asked me out on this date, huh?", Hopper asked as he opened the door for the lady, placing his hand on her back and guiding her inside.
"Oh, I'm sorry, is it too late to say I'm just kidding?", Joyce answered with a slightly mocking tone and a cheeky smile creeping over her face while entering the restaurant.
"A little bit, yeah", he replied, walking over to a waiter and asking for a table for two. A tall, blonde man offered them a free place in the middle of the room, which was surrounded by many other customers. Joyce would lie if she said that it didn't make her feel uncomfortable, but there was no other place to sit. Enzo's was always filled on Friday nights.
"May I take your order?", the waiter asked, giving Hopper a have we met before? look and handing the pair menus.
"Uh, yes. I'll have a scotch and the lady will have... a bottle of Chianti?" As he ordered he kept looking at Joyce's face, searching for approval. She just smiled and nodded slightly, letting him know that she's happy with his choice.
"Very good, sir. I will be back with your order soon."
Once there was only the two of them, Joyce had the opportunity to take a closer look at the restaurant. Enzo's was a very fancy place, a place that actually shouldn't belong to a town like Hawkins. Violins played in the background and she couldn't even pronounce half of the meals offered on the menu. God, how expensive must this place be?
"Joyce, are you ok?", Hopper suddenly asked her with a visibly worried tone, pulling her out of her thoughts.
"I'm sorry, I just- when you invited me to this dinner between friends, you invited me on a date, didn't you?" She noticed that this question surprised him. His mouth was slightly hung open and he was looking for the right thing to say.
"Will you be mad if I say yes?", he asked instead, nervously waiting for her answer. The tension disappeared the moment Joyce smiled and shook her head though, making him sigh with relief.
"I'm just sorry that I didn't notice it before. I- I wouldn't have stood you up if I knew how important it was to you." She added, placing her hand on his and giving it a light squeeze.
"But I'm happy you're here with me now." He stared at her with heart eyes again, something he caught himself doing a lot recently. The entire town had been calling her crazy and out of her mind for the past two years. But what he saw in her sparkling brown eyes wasn't insanity. He saw courage, empathy, determination, patience, beauty. Joyce Byers was unique and perfect in her way, which was even more highlighted by the tight red dress she was wearing that night. Hopper never admitted it, but he was grateful for having her on his side in the past two terrible years. She was-
"Mrs. Byers?", a familiar voice suddenly asked from behind them, interrupting their intimate moment.
"Scott? Uh, hi! What are you doing here?" Joyce asked, pulling her hand away from Hopper's and nervously tucking a loose hair strain behind her ear.
"Just having some dinner with a friend. And so do you I see?" Scott asked, giving Joyce and Hopper a curious look.
"Kind of. And we'd like to have some privacy if you don't mind, Mr. Clarke", Hopper answered with a mischievous grin, clearly indicating his annoyance by the man's presence.
"Hop, don't be so rude!" Joyce laughed awkwardly and softly punched him in the shoulder, which made the situation only worse. "Thank you again for your help with the magnets, the knowledge was very... useful."
"The pleasure is on my side, Mrs. Byers. You know how much I love teaching others." Scott laughed and placed a hand on her shoulder just for a moment, but it was enough for Hopper to get even angrier.
"I have to go back to my table now. But it was nice talking to you! Have a good evening." Mr. Clarke finished the conversation the moment he noticed Hopper's threatening expression.
"Thank you, have a nice evening as well!", Joyce added as he walked away, her broad smile slowly disappearing.
"What was that?" Hopper asked with a croaky voice, taking a long sip of the drink the waiter just handed him.
"I could ask you the same question", she replied instead, with an expression just as enraged as his. Not being able to deal with the situation sober, Joyce grabbed some alcohol as well.
"What was all that smiling, flirting and shoulder punching?" He hissed, smashing the glass of Scotch against the table.
"God, Hop! I was just having a conversation with a friend!" She almost screamed, but she lowered her voice before anyone else in the restaurant could hear her.
"A conversation like we were having before?" He knew that he was pushing too hard, but with the alcohol reaching his brain and the emotions boiling inside him, he couldn't stop himself.
"You're unbelievable, Hopper! You know that I'm on a date with you, not with Scott Clarke!" This time she couldn't control the volume of her voice anymore, making a couple of people turn around and stare at them with curiosity.
"Yeah, I wouldn't be so sure about that." He knew that he shouldn't have said that. It was too much. He was finally on a date with the woman he wanted for the longest time and he had to ruin it. Again.
But Joyce's expression suddenly changed, it was softer and her lips formed a sly smile. "I'm flattered you're jealous."
"What?" Hopper was surprised by her statement, leaving him completely speechless.
"I said I'm flattered you're jealous. It's kind of cute." Joyce winked as she took another sip of her Chianti, which tasted much better than the usual cheap wine she bought for her lonely dinners.
"I'm not jealous!" He lied, but his nervous giggle gave him away. He had always been a terrible liar.
"Yeah, I wouldn't be so sure about that," Joyce repeated the same word he had said earlier and tried to not laugh out loud, smirking broadly instead.
"Would you like to order an entrée?"
____________________________________
"God, when did it get so cold?" As they left Enzo's, Joyce felt her skin shivering to her surprise and rubbed her shoulders for some warmth.
"When the sun set, I guess," Hopper replied, guiding them to his new car, which was just rented until he could afford his own. Nothing could replace his police blazer though, which had accompanied him for years.
"But it's summer!" She exclaimed, still not able to process the fact that she was freezing, although it had been burning hot outside just two hours earlier.
"Here, take my jacket," he offered as he proceeded to cover her fragile body. Once they were by the vehicle, both leaned against it instead of entering it. Without saying a single word, Hopper grabbed a pack of cigarettes from his pocket and handed one to Joyce.
"Hop, can I ask you something?" She spoke after a while, lighting the cigarette and taking a long drag.
"Sure, but I don't know whether I'll be able to answer it." His voice was croaky, almost as if he wasn't prepared to say anything yet.
"Why did you ask me out on a date?" Joyce knew that she may not get an answer to that question, but she wanted to try at least. She simply couldn't understand why a man like him, who could have every younger and prettier woman in town, wanted to go out with her so desperately.
"You were the one who asked me out."
"Yeah, but you asked me out the first time. Why?" She needed to know. She needed to know his feelings and intentions. If this relationship was supposed to have a future, she needed to understand him before she could fully trust him.
"Do you really want me to answer that question right now? On this parking lot?" Hopper wanted to avoid telling her the truth because he was too scared of her reaction. But he realized that if they wanted to spend the rest of their lives with each other, they needed to be honest as well.
"Yes."
"Alright." He exhaled, taking some time to find the right words to say. "All my life I thought that I was a black hole. Everything and everyone I ever loved had to be destroyed at some point. But here you are, by my side during the worst two years of my life. And I guess I just wanted the most beautiful and strongest woman I've ever met to be by my side for the rest of my life. Before it was too late."
Joyce was speechless. She expected everything but that answer. She wanted to say something, anything at all to not make this situation awkward, but the only thing she could do was stare into his ocean blue eyes with a shocked expression and slightly open mouth.
"Can I ask you a question now?" He interrupted the silence and took another drag of his cigarette, exhaling it slowly, enjoying every part of it.
"Yeah?" Joyce finally answered hoarsely after a long while, still processing everything Hopper said.
"Why didn't you go on a date with Scott Clarke?"
The moment these words escaped his mouth, Joyce grabbed his face, pulling it down to her height and quickly pressing her soft lips against his. Before he could even notice everything that just had happened, they parted again, her cold hand still resting on his burning hot cheeks.
"Shut up." Her expression was more serious than ever, but Hopper could see the amusement and surprise about her actions in her widened eyes. Once he finally processed everything Joyce just did and said, he simply rested his forehead against hers and closed his eyes.
"Okay."
After a short moment of silence and enjoying one another's company, Joyce slightly raised her head, making their noses rub against each other and their lips meet again. This time the kiss wasn't rushed, it was gentle and passionate. She could taste cigarettes and cologne she didn't smell on him before. It was an earthy scent, which suited him very well. It felt like soft rain on a summer evening. It felt like an explosion of the best flavors in the universe all at once mingling together and creating the best taste and sensation she’d ever felt. It felt like she wasn’t in her own body anymore and she was in another universe floating. It felt like she could get lost forever in Hopper and she wasn’t sure how, but she was, and it was only through kissing. She never felt this way before. And so did he.
His arms were stroking Joyce's back, pulling her closer to feel every movement of her body. He felt as her skin started to warm up every second he was touching her. Hopper had imagined that moment for ages. He had made up thousand of different scenarios, but making out on a parking lot after a non-perfect date wasn't one of them.
"My boys aren't home tonight." Joyce pulled away from him as she quietly spoke those words, wanting to see his reaction to her subtle offer.
"I'm sorry, but El and I always watch Miami Vice on Fridays." As much as he desired to finally feel her naked body against his for the longest time, he had to say no. This moment needed to be perfect and passionate, not rushed. He wanted to fall asleep with her head on his chest, not get dressed and drive home right after they'd be done.  
"It's ok. Go home to her, it's already late. Maybe we can continue another time." Joyce managed to put a small smile on her face, although it was difficult to hide the disappointed by his rejection. Before Hopper could ever respond to her statement, she already stepped into the car.
____________________________________
Loneliness.
Joyce didn't hate any other word in the universe as much as the word loneliness. Whenever she would feel this way, something inside of her would break. Depending on the situation, it would just be a small crack or an entire piece crashing into a thousand pieces. Sometimes she even felt lonely when she wasn't actually alone. But that night, she didn't feel lonely although she was alone.
Their date had a rough start but ended on a very good note. After all the terrible things had happened in the past two years, Hopper was still by her side, constantly supporting and protecting her and her family. Everyone in town called her insane, but he believed her even when she thought herself that she was losing her mind. Even when she was freaking out about goddamn magnets, he helped her find the answer.
He was there when she had questions. He was there when she was going crazy. He was there when she needed a shoulder to cry on. He was there when she felt lonely.
It was almost midnight when Joyce noticed that she was still sitting on the couch, watching TV and drinking some cheap wine. Normally she should be in bed, sleeping in her comfortable pajamas. However, she wasn't tired and the red dress looked too good on her. She was lost in her thoughts, processing the events of that evening while Cheers played in the background. Until...
a knock suddenly interrupted her. There was only one person who would show up at her place out of nowhere past midnight. Joyce got up, switched off the TV and opened the door. It was Hopper.
Without even saying a single word, he grabbed her face, making her stand on her tiptoes and kissed her. His lips were soft, but the kiss was rough and passionate. It took her a while to realize what just had happened and to reciprocate his actions.
"I'm sorry, I hope I didn't wake you. El is already asleep and when I came over I saw the light-"
"Just shut up." She didn't want to talk. She didn't want to think. All she wanted was to feel him.
After a while of passionately making out in the middle of the room, Joyce finally started to slowly unbutton his Hawaiian shirt, which perfectly emphasized his figure. God, he looked so fucking hot in it. She wanted to literally rip it off of him, but that shirt was way too nice to be destroyed.
In the meantime, Hopper tried to guide them towards the bedroom without breaking the kiss. He didn’t mind doing it on the floor or against the wall, but he wanted to make it properly. It needed to be special, perfect. But right before they would lay down on her bed, he had to get rid of her red, tight dress. Her breasts and curves looked fucking amazing in this thing. He became hard just by looking at her in that dress.
Joyce, on the other hand, felt slightly uncomfortable with revealing her body. Being in your 40's and having two children doesn’t help make your body look better. Would he still be attracted to her after seeing her imperfections?
He gently pushed her backward, making her fall onto the soft covers with a big smile on her face. Without saying a single word, she let herself get undressed by Hopper and waited nervously for his reaction. She was still wearing a black bra and a pair of panties, but he stopped kissing her and scanned her body for the bottom to the top instead.
“You’re so fucking beautiful”, he whispered into her ear and almost made her tear up. He was the first man who ever said these words as he meant them. Every single word. Trying not to cry from all the emotions she was feeling at that moment, Joyce cupped his face and kissed him to make her forget everything, at least for now. What she wanted at that moment was him to be inside of her, making her scream from pleasure.
Keeping his blue eyes at Joyce the entire time, Hopper quickly got rid of his shirt, throwing it somewhere on the floor and focusing on undoing the buckle of his belt, trying to tug it from the loops of his matching jeans.
Not being able to resist the sight, he quickly pushed his pants down his hips and crawled on top of her, his elbows resting right next to her shoulders. Taking one last look at her perfectly shaped breasts, Hopper started kissing her neck and collarbone, while trying to smoothly remove the bra off of her body. She could lay all day long on that bed and get her body kissed by him. After a while a quiet moan left her mouth, making his cock even harder than it already was, although he thought it wouldn’t be possible.
Lonnie could never make her scream from pleasure by not entering her, sometimes not even when he did. But Hopper… he made her heart race with the smallest movement of his body.
“Please don’t stop”, Joyce cried out, running her hands through his short hair to keep him close to her. However, he pulled away to travel further down and put small kisses on her stomach and hip bones. Shortly after, Hopper ran his fingers through her soaking wet entrance, stopping at her clit and pressing against it, just to hear another moan coming from her.
Noticing his cock standing upright, Joyce bit her lip and pushed down his boxers, stroking it and keeping eye-contact the entire time. It also turned her on to hear his moans of pleasure, in fact, more than she expected.
He wasn’t able to resist the sight of Joyce, fully naked beneath his warm body, ready to be taken care of. With one smooth move, Hopper pushed his cock into her, making her cry out and bury her nails into his back. He didn’t mind it though, he wanted to be reminded of this encounter for as long as possible. His thrusts were slow and tender at first, becoming faster and deeper after every move. Joyce almost forgot how good it felt.
Once Hopper’s thrusts hit their maximum speed, both felt their orgasms building up. He was hitting Joyce at the perfect angle, rubbing her clit and sucking on her neck. The intense moans leaving her body made him feel weaker and weaker every passing second, not making him last much longer.
Their releases came almost at the same time, making him fill her up completely and her shaking like crazy. No one ever made her come so hard, not even Lonnie when they were young. She was sure that she wouldn’t be able to walk properly for the next few days.
He stayed inside of her, until both their breaths and hearts slowed down, placing one short kiss on her hung open mouth and finally laying down beside her, covering himself up with the sheets.
"Are you still jealous?" Joyce finally asked when the silence began to fill the space between them again.
"Only if it makes you want me more."
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queercapwriting · 6 years ago
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Hey cap. So my story is alot like Maggie's (I promise I'm not making this storyup) my Crush's mother found some texts between me and my crush and she threaten to out me to my mom if I didn't stay away from my crush. That was the day before Valentine's day this year. I was hoping if you have time if you could write a fic about Maggie seeing Eliza wilky again and Alex comforts her when she yells at Mags for coming back to Nebraska, if you still write Sanvers but if you could that would be great💖
She went over it and over it and over it in her head for years and years.
Had she made it up in her head?
She would lay in bed at night - the crappy futon bed that her aunt let her sleep on that was always too cold and too hard and too lonely - and stare at the ceiling and wonder.
Hadn’t she seen Eliza’s eyes drift down to her lips, so many damn times?
When they stole Eliza’s older brother’s cigarettes together, hadn’t Eliza always been the one to suggest they shotgun the smoke, bringing their lips tantalizingly close, all but kissing without having to call it that?
Hadn’t Eliza been the one to run her hand under Maggie’s sweater, claiming her hands were cold, under their shared blankets all those nights, during all those horror movies that she knew Eliza hated, but always said she wanted to watch, because those were the kinds of movies that could best rationalize that kind of snuggling, that kind of protective closeness?
Hadn’t Eliza always insisted they share the bed, instead of letting Maggie sleep on the couch when she stayed over?
Maggie thought and she replayed and she thought and she replayed. 
She came out of it swearing she’d been crazy.
Swearing she’d been making it all up.
That of course, the girl who went on to be homecoming queen and prom queen and cheerlead captain and Straight Girl Extraordinaire hadn’t actually wanted her. Hadn’t actually given her signs, hadn’t actually been trying to tell her since junior high that she wanted Maggie to lay her down underneath the bleachers and show her things all the boys used to brag about doing to their girlfriends.
Maggie was just crazy. Just projecting. Just manipulating the innocent love of her best friend, perverting it into something twisted and wrong and sick.
That’s what everyone said, anyway.
Everyone.
Everyone.
So much so that Maggie had started to believe that herself.
So when it gets to Maggie through the grapevine - all those years and years and years later - that their old chemistry teacher had died, it doesn’t occur to her to worry about seeing Eliza Wilkie at the funeral.
Because of course she’s going to the funeral.
Growing up in a town like that, it’d be the height of disrespect not to. Especially since he’d been the only teacher who ever really liked her.
He’d never said much to her. But he let her survive lunch periods in the chemistry classroom, alone with her dry sandwiches while he graded his papers. He let her listen to his old radio, to whatever station she wanted. He sometimes brought her an orange, from his wife. 
They never really talked, not really. He didn’t ask her about her parents or her aunt or the vicious talk whipping around the school. It hadn’t been his way.
But his classroom had been safe for her. 
Of course she was going to his funeral.
And of course she was bringing her fiancee.
“I’d love to see where you grew up, babe. And of course I want to be there for you at the funeral. But are you sure? That it’s not more trouble than it’s worth?”
“No,” she insisted. “He would’ve wanted me there. And if he would’ve wanted me there, he would’ve wanted the woman I love there. He wouldn’t have cared. And if he wouldn’t, everyone else can deal.”
Her old teacher’s wife was the only one to welcome Maggie, to hug Alex, to congratulate them on the upcoming wedding.
Everyone else - her parents included, her aunt included, her cousins and her old classmates and her old teachers and the guy who owned the grocery store who told her she couldn’t work there, bagging customers produce, after her parents kicked her out and the rumors started - everyone else gave her a distant handshake or nothing at all.
Mostly, nothing at all.
Just whispers and horrid stares and tsks and muttered curses.
She held Alex’s hand and she set her jaw and she paid her respects, and she focused on getting the very next flight out, showing Alex the sights be damned.
But Eliza Wilkie had other plans.
“Maggie Sawyer,” she called out from behind, and Maggie jumped, recognizing the lilt after all those years. She’d had her eye out for Eliza, the whole time, but hadn’t seen her. Hearing her, now, turned her stomach around.
Alex knew, immediately. Alex squeezed her hand, immediately.
“Wilkes,” Maggie turned around, forcing a half smile onto her face, because Eliza hadn’t had to call after her like that, and maybe enough time had passed, and maybe she’d grown, and maybe -
“What the hell are you doing back here? And with your - with - how? How could you -”
She shot Alex a look and grabbed Maggie’s arm, tugging her away. Alex’s spine stiffened, but Maggie shook her head. It was fine, it was fine, she could take care of herself, it was fine, but god, please don’t go far.
“You realize that they were all just rumors, when we were kids? But now, you’re parading this… woman around, and you’re just confirming every vicious thing this town every thought?”
“Hello to you too, ‘Liza. Good to see you too, ‘Liza. I’ve been fine, how about -”
“Cut the crap, Maggie. You realize that you confirming all those rumors are just going to make them think the same about me, don’t you? How could you do this to me, how could you-”
“Okay, wait, no no no. My marriage to the most gorgeous, kindest, smartest woman I’ve ever known? Surprisingly, has nothing to do with you. And I’m pretty sure our old chem teacher dying also had nothing to do with you, but I’m a detective now, so if there’s anything you wanna fess up to, I’m all ears.”
“Christ, is everything still a joke to you?”
“You never were.” It was the most honest thing Maggie had ever said in that town. The most raw, the most vulnerable, since she was fourteen years old. “You were never a joke to me. And I’m sorry. I’m sorry you’ve stayed stuck in a place where you can’t be happy for someone else’s happiness. Someone you used to love. We grew up together, god, Eliza. And you can’t be happy that I’m happy. And that’s fine. I don’t need your happiness. But I hope you find your own, I really do.”
Steam was practically coming out of Eliza’s ears, but Maggie couldn’t fix it. She never could have, and now, she realized after so many years, finally? It wasn’t her job to. 
“But look, unless something really fundamental has changed about etiquette here, funerals aren’t the best places to pick public fights. Or maybe they’ve always been exactly the best places for that. But that’s all I came here for. Okay? I mourned, you mourned. We paid respects. I’m going now. I’m not going to stand here and let you make me fourteen again. Alright? Goodbye, Eliza.”
She turned away before her first best friend and her first broken heart had the chance to say anything. She turned away while she still had the strength to move.
She caught hold of Alex’s hand and she took the keys to the car they’d rented and she took the long, long, long way ‘round back to their motel.
She didn’t cry until they got there, until they locked the door behind them.
She didn’t weep until she was in Alex’s arms.
But as soon as she was, she let herself sob.
“I heard what you said to her, you know,” Alex murmured after a long while of kissing Maggie’s face, her knuckles, her hair, her tears. “I’m so proud of you, babe. I’m so proud of you, and I love you so damn much.”
She didn’t say anything else because she didn’t have to. Because nothing else mattered.
Nothing else mattered, and nothing else ever would.
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ollie-ask-and-roleplay · 6 years ago
Text
Everything you need to know:
Looks defined: Silver hair. Blue eyes. About 5'6" tall, weighs around 130 pounds. Natural hair length is just past the ears, they have hair extensions that can make hair shoulder blade length. Has strap on breasts.
Their name:
Oliver Emanuele (Usually goes by Ollie)
Age: 22
A little about them:
Ollie is bigender (identifies as both a boy and girl), they are biologically male. They have a stutter due to severe, constant anxiety. Definitely the mom friend in a group. 100% human unless somehow changed in the future. Most of the time they are kind and shy, although this is the first muse that has seen the NSFW side of roleplay. They are confident and dominant when in "the mood" ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°). Haha (I like to think that they are secretly very kinky; but that's yet to be explored)
Has a history of self-harm, suicidal thoughts/tendencies, depression, and crippling anxiety. They are currently working on controlling themself better and improve mental health.
Likes: Making food for other people, helping others, quiet places, windchimes, baking, hoodies, zen gardens, low intensity yoga, etc.
Dislikes: Small spaces, themself (🙁), nuns, large groups of people, spicy foods, etc.
(Likes and Dislikes are to be updated)
Anyways! Ollie often carries fresh cookies with them, don't question it.
Usual Attire: When feeling more male they usually wear a large hoodie with whatever pants they have around. When female it's always different. (Just assume there is a skirt or dress)
Pronouns: Ollie uses They/Them to avoid confusion.
Background Knowledge: (warning: story about parents first) Ollie was born into a very "normal" family. A mother and a father that were happily married and went to a Christian church every Sunday. It was the happiest day in their lives when their first and only child was born with the birth name, ''Oliver". The mother's name was Elaine, she had lovely deep brown hair and bright, piercing blue eyes. The father was Samuel, with blonde hair like sand and blue eyes like the day's clear sky. They were highschool sweethearts. Unfortunately, it was Samuel's brother who had silver hair, received from their father above them. Of course, it could have been a gene that simply skipped Samuel, but he was certain.
Elaine was over-joyed and had hope that they could continue their lives as a happy family. After all, what her husband didn't know couldn't hurt him, right? Oliver was a happy healthy baby, that they both adored almost to the point of worship. Samuel kept quiet for the first month, acting as if the thought hadn't occurred to him. One night, after they had gotten Oliver to sleep, he confronted her.
"Elaine..." He said, the look on his face so morose it could bring someone to tears. "That isn't my son, is it?"
And like that, Elaine's fragile hopes cracked to reveal the ugly truth. She had to face what she'd done. She touched Samuel's face as both their tears started to fall, his of bitter pain and her of regret. She gazed into his eyes knowing this would be the last time they would look at her without hatred.
"... No, not biologically. Ol-Oliver was conceived b-by... your brother and myself." She could no longer look at him and her voice was no more, for sobs had started shaking her body to the core. Her hand fell from his face as she moved to cradle her own body.
Samuel had known. He let his tears fall and left his wife to cry alone. He went into the nursery where baby Oliver was sleeping peacefully, unaware of anything that had happened.
Samuel kissed Oliver's forehead and whispered, "I'm sorry, my son. They wronged us both. I'll be sure they pay for it..." Samuel stood there for a few more moments, tears dropping into Oliver's crib.
The events that followed that night were not what anyone had planned for.
Samuel left his home with his wedding ring on the counter. He drove to his brother's home and didn't bother knocking. He broke a window with a brick laying outside and climbed in, knowing exactly where to go. Samuel stood beside his brother's bed with a brick in hand. He stood there, his rage boiling just beneath the surface of his stoic face. The rage of a man whose family had been stolen from him. Then, as the unsuspecting man was started to wake, Samuel hit his brother once over the head with the brick. Twice. Three times. Samuel did not kill his brother that night, but he did cause brain bleeding which which lead to death several days later.
Samuel got back into his car and started driving back to his home to gather his belongings. He planned to get a small apartment in town and fight for custody of Oliver. However a semi-truck had other plans. Samuel died in a "crash", his small car practically obliterated.
The only reason Elaine had to live was Oliver now. Unfortunately Elaine had always been selfish and her child wasn't enough for her. After attending her Husband and her child's father's duel funeral, she grabbed Oliver in his little mourning tux and left them on the porch of a nearby orphanage. Little Ollie had only the clothes on their back, a letter detailing who they were, a roughed up stuffed bunny, and a chain-necklace around his neck with Samuel and Elaine's wedding rings. Elaine knocked on the door and ran as fast as she could. She committed suicide later that day.
(Okay, parent story end)
Ollie grew up in that orphanage. It was a religious orphanage run by nuns. Ollie wasn't bullied at first, but was often ignored. They were small and quiet and did everything they were told, so the nuns decided they didn't need any extra attention besides "Have you eaten?" and "It's bedtime now".
They played with their bunny until the arm ripped off, at age 5, which triggered his first fit since he was an infant. The nuns quickly sewed their bunny together again, not used to the quiet one being so upset.
At age 8, a boy named Johnny on the playground at school decided to start picking on Ollie because they were an easy target. Ollie started coming back from school with scrapes on their knees from running away and falling. Plus bruises from Johnny and his group when they caught up.
At age 10, Ollie got caught playing with one of the older girls' makeup and dresses for the first time. The nuns were called quickly. Oliver got punished with 10 spanks for getting into another's property and 10 more for "inappropriate behavior". Ollie didn't understand why wanting to be pretty was wrong.
At age 12, puberty had started and something was really bothering Oliver. Some days they didn't feel right in their own skin and other days they were perfectly fine. Oliver was in middle school now, which meant everyone around them were becoming couples for a week or less at a time, and being very curious with themselves. One day, Oliver was listening in on some 8th graders and words of "sexuality" and "gender identity" were getting thrown around. They got curious. "Am I different?"
At age 13, they started seriously researching gender identities on the public library's computer. They were in awe that there were words to describe how they were feeling. They decided they identified with two genders, male and female. Ollie decided to start going by "Ollie" instead of "Oliver".
At age 14, Ollie got up the courage to ask a nun for a dress, and "maybe a lip gloss". The nun was outraged and gave him 10 spanks in front of all the orphan children at dinner time. The nun "made an example" of them and let all the kids know that the orphanage would never spend money on something a child does not need. Especially when the child wanted something that would "make them a disgusting fag". Ollie started getting picked on not just from the kids at the school, but from the kids in the orphanage too. So many slurs and hateful words were thrown towards Ollie that they started to internalize it.
At age 16, they were severely depressed and constantly on edge. The bullying didn't stop and had started getting more physical; ending up in the ER a couple times for stitches or broken bones. They had tried to kill them self multiple times at this point and always wore a baggy hoodie. The life was quickly draining from their eyes. A younger nun, who had only been with the orphanage for a few months decided it was enough. One evening the nun directly asked them, "Do you want to live?"
They replied, "Not here."
The young nun gave Ollie 2,000 dollars of her savings and told them to get as far as possible. They gratefully took the offer and was gone by dinner time the next day.
At age 18, Ollie had made a great life for themself. They lived with two other people to help pay rent of an apartment. They got a girlfriend. They work at a nice Subway job and graduated high school as the Salutatorian of their class. They were fairly accepted as a bigender person both at home, and in school.
At age 20, they broke up with their longest relationship of 3 years. Ollie sunk back into a deep depression and what little progress they made was thrown out the window. Ollie barely managed to keep their job, calling in "sick" too many times. Ollie worried their roommates by spending most of their time in their room alone.
At age 22, things have settled down. Ollie is over the breakup but the depression still lingered. They are trying to heal. They now go to college to get a culinary degree and hope to get their own bakery or restaurant one day.
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Thanks for reading Ollie's Story!
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mtnkat3 · 3 years ago
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My ramblings of a broken soul. No one read. Can't see thruthe tears.
Let's see...what's my plan... well... God nixed all the good ones so... since I feel like crawling in a hole & dying right now... after on the 14th I'll go to the big cnty over & find all the alcohol I like. Moonlight apple pie moonshine [w/Sprite & torain caramel sauce]. Sotheby's hard cider. Oh I wanna try bourbon & maybe some jim beam. Who gives a damn about my liver anymore. Then I'll rent a car & go to the beach for awhile & drown myself. Oh & make sure I have. Ice cream. M&ms & hersey syrup. Can't forget them. Damn delicious dreams memories I fucked up!!!! Damnit. Can't see. Then I'm gonna go be a her.it in the mtns. Don't know why I thought I had a chance to be really happy & gave a family. Hell. This is the 3rd time at divorce I pushed wh this time & said enough. Has lied so many times & kept hanging on to me. Well now I km now. But God thru in surgery. Now The men that I adore hate my guts. And I am a sch.uck.for ever believing I deserved better!!! I've worked so hard to be better! But I must've become a monster! I mean look at me! Good men are walking away from me!!! Damn wh! And damn me in q997 believing his lies! And damn me for thinking that I deserved happiness & soul mate love! I don't wanna let go but ya'll have already thrown my keys in. My face I mean ya'll have been pushing & pushing. What else am I to think. Yeah I know they are tests. But why. Tell me that. Said come what may we'll be together. Then it became a trigger because I felt so lost without you! When ya'll disappeared I flipped out. But I had no way to do anything. In the time yall have known me... 4 relatives have died. I didn't get closure. I never do. I have seen too much death. So all I could do... rebuild plans. Over & over. But kept getting blockades. Even working at the store was the wrong move. Why. God was blocking me. Wanted this time, this growth, this atty. I dunno why. I thought earlier I did. But. Why why why why why!?!?!?!?!?!? I really need something to smash. But laying here. Nope. I need a punching bag, pool & dance space. Then I can scream, wail, moan, punch my hand thru the wall & no one will care. Hell. No one does now. Funny. People just don't know me. Have no clue about me. Heck I gave yall my keys. But you e thrown me back like a dead fish. My gosh I am a fool. I dunno why writing this angst to yall. Ot a clue. Hate all the cussing though. Another wh thing. I am just too damaged I guess. I thought I was healing & gonna be able to hold myself together. But. Loop de loop!!! There be the men I've always afored.... & they hate my guts nke. Psyche!!!! What did you expect t!?!?!?!? Yall are special men, that people gravitate towards because yall ate good & loving. Me... ghost. Wth did I think!?!?!?!!?!? My gosh I am 10 Tim's the fool for thinking yall could live me!!!!!!!+++++ i.mean Inwas called a ghost in hs so wth did.i nexpect !?!*#:#()@&^()
Time to just stop. No one gives a dsm. Anyways. More.foll.I. stupid idiot. Time to bask into my pillow until
I love the men Infsiled. I'm not good enough for. Kept trying & trying. Dsmn stupid ass fat cow wrench . Thinking they would want me
Tears
Bed.
I love yall even though I don't deserve yall
22.p09an. 2.11a
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OTP QUESTIONS 1-30 IF YOU PLEASE. Seriously though, you can just pick like two or three. I'm easy to please.
 Sorry that this took me so long! Questions found here.
1. Who spends almost all their money on the other?
Ivar has too much money to really be able to spend almost all of it on Ylva. He does spend a lot of money on her though. Ylva is a stay at home wife and mother/ student for several years of their marriage and most often doesn’t have her own income. When she does get a job, it is mostly unpaid volunteer work.
2: Who sleeps in the other’s lap?
They both do, Ylva slightly more often than Ivar. Ivar sometimes falls asleep with his head in Ylva’s lap.
3: Who walks around the house half-naked and who yells at them to put on some clothes?
Ylva walks around half-naked but Ivar doesn’t complain.
4: Which one tells the other not to stay up all night and which one stays up all night anyway?
Ylva tells Ivar to remember to sleep and while he does listen to her most of the time, he definitely pulls some all-nighters too.
5: Which one tries to make food for the other but burns it all by accident and which one tells them that it’s okay and makes them both cookies?
Ivar tries to cook for Ylva but it doesn’t end well so Ylva makes chocolate chip cookies for the both of them.
6: Which one reads OTP prompts and says “Oh that’s us!” and which one goes “Eh, not really”?
Ylva does read them but she rarely brings them up to Ivar.
7: Which one constantly wears the other’s clothes?
Ylva wears Ivar’s clothes, especially when going to the hospital as it comforts her. Ivar can’t really fit into her clothes.
8: Which one spends all day running errands and which one says “You remembered [thing], right?”
They mostly have their staff run errands. Ylva is more likely to go with the staff, but Ivar is always careful to make sure that everything he wants is written down before they leave.
9: Which one drives the car and which one gives them directions?
None of them drive, they have Lars for that.
10: Which one does the posing while the other one draws?
Neither of them really draw, but Ivar takes a lot of photos of Ylva.
11: If they were about to rob a museum, which one does backflips through lasers and which one is strolling behind with a bag of chips?
Ylva is definitely the one to stroll behind wth a bag of chips.
12: Which one of your OTP overdoes it on the alcohol and which one makes the other stop drinking?
Ivar knows his limits when it comes to alcohol while Ylva has no clue. However, once she learns her limits she rarely gets drunk. Ivar does have to stop her on a few occasions when she’s upset and not thinking about how much alcohol she’s had.
13: Which one likes to surprise the other with a lot of small random gifts?
Ivar is quite good at surprising Ylva with gifts.
14: Which one keeps accidentally using the other’s last name instead of their own?
Ylva uses Ivar’s last name a lot even before they’re married (she keeps her own last name too), but it’s not accidental. She knows that Ragnarsson earns her more respect than Geirrsdottír.
15: Which one screams about the spider and which one brings the spider outside?
Ivar hates spiders and so Ylva needs to take care of them.
16: Which one gives the other their jacket?
Ivar gives Ylva his jacket.
17: Who keeps getting threatened by the other’s overprotective older sibling?
Ylva and Ubbe don’t always get along but I wouldn’t go so far as to say that Ubbe threatens her.
18: Who’s the first one to admit they have feelings for the other?
Ivar is the first to say “I love you”, though it’s pretty clear before that that they do have feelings for each other.
19: How good would your OTP be at parenting?
Ivar isn’t very good at being strict, at least not with their first child. Ylva worries a lot but she doesn’t really let it out on their kids, she’s panicking to herself instead. All in all though, they do make good parents that really are dedicated to keeping their children safe and happy.
20: Which one types with perfect grammar and which one types using numbers as letters?
Ivar is a lot more formal but when talking and writing. Not so strange considering that Ylva never got to start 1st grade and doesn’t really start any proper form of education until she’s in her late teens.
21: Who gets attacked by a bully and who protects them?
They protect each other. Ylva has nearly jumped Björn on more than one occasion for the way he treats Ivar, and Ivar is adamant to protect Ylva from the online hate she receives. 
22: Who makes the bad puns and who makes a pained smile every time the other makes a pun?
Ivar isn’t that fond of puns, but he knows that they annoy the hell out of Ylva.
23: Who comes home from work to see that the other one bought a puppy?
Logn (their first dog) is a surprise from Ivar.
24: Which one gives the other a piggyback ride when they’re tired?
Piggyback rides aren’t really a thing in their relationship. Ivar does sometimes give her a ride on his lap while he’s in his wheelchair.
25: Which one competes in some sort of activity and which one does the overzealous cheering?
Ylva is the overzealous cheerer, depending a bit on the acitvity. 
26: Who takes a selfie when the other one falls asleep on their shoulder?
Ylva has dozens of them, and she frequently looks at them. Ivar would never admit it but he has taken a couple of similar photos.
27: Which one would give the other a makeover if they asked? Ylva does love to play dress up and she does learn a few things about fashion over the years. She might help Ivar if he asked, she does do his hair. That being said, they both have staff to help them with clothes and neither think that the other is in need of a makeover.
28: Which one owns a pet that the other is absolutely terrified of?
They own all their pets together and find none of them terrifying.
29: Which one holds the umbrella over both of them when it rains? Ylva walks close to the wheelchair with an umbrella in her hand.
30: If your OTP went on vacation, where would they go and what would they do? Who would take the pictures?
Ivar takes the more professional looking photos, Ylva takes the “faces mashed together and traces of ice cream still around the mouth” selfies. They don’t go on vacation very often, first because of Ivar’s job and then they have kids. On their honey moon, they rented a secluded house with a private beach. They’ve also been to Hanoi, which was one of Ylva’s favourite vacations.
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