#as if anyone cares about me on this app still u guys should follow my finsta
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siyzuii · 4 months ago
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  ✦    ⤹    점점 더 난 네게 빠져가    ⊹    ❍
    ⟢    ₊    ↷ 𝒴ou attack my heart!
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⠀   ͡ ׅ ۟  kassiadreams/siyzuii  ָ֢  ֹ  ֹ ۪ 𝟥 new layout? do we fw it?
✦   ⁔⁔ ۪   my first moodboard ever idek what they're used for but i love making them (not dr related like i said it would be.. but oh well i'm obsessed with chuu in the underwater mv anyway) i hope it looks decent?? might put one for every post if i feel like it heheheh ⊹  ֗  
☆⠀⠀𓈒⠀⠀ׁ⠀⠀this song is truly the cutest thing ever and a literal masterpiece at that, dare i say my fav kpop song!! ok now back to the actual post sorry LOL⠀ ׅ⠀⠀ ͡
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── NEW INTRO POST 🔔
◌⠀ׁ₊   ˚  hiii!!! this is my shifting blog (and also my main blog)!! my username used to be siyzuii and i used to go by xylia or léa so u might know me from there but i go by kassia now! (close friends can still call me stella ofc)
i shift.. obviously anyway i've shifted to my dr 3 times now and shifted to parallel realities (on accident too) like a whole lot of times i can't even count
i have discord, tiktok, and instagram but i pretty much only use discord & tiktok, i exclusively use insta if there's someone i'm friends with that genuinely doesn't have any other socials.
note that i also only post shifting content on here. but i'm also 10x more active on discord & tiktok (mostly discord) than i am on tumblr, so feel free to add me (pls ask for my user first bc i have anti shifter friends and i don't want them finding this lol)
i also write and make edits (like every 2 months) yay!!!!
── INTERACT NEOW!!!
other shifters (specifically kpop shifters i need my spotify premium back. hi yes lets yap about our drs together pls) (honestly i'll yap with anyone about each others drs) (this is a silent invitation)
i don't care if you don't believe in shifting, if you respect people who do believe in it (and aren’t gonna force your beliefs on them) feel free to interact! i don't know why you would but whatever
cool people!!!
── GO!!!!
anti shifters (bye)
basic dni criteria
people who actively hate on everything (do you have a life?)
── WHAT TO EXPECT FROM MY PAGE
shifting content (mostly storytimes & yapping and whatever with the occasional sprinkle of memes)
shitty & messy blog layouts because idk how this app works
rants
yapping
probably me going inactive for either 2 days or 2 weeks straight (school keeps me busy and i already skipped my homework for this)
i might call u slurs if we get close!! (THAT I CAN RECLAIM)
me NOT talking about my favs (i cant openly talk about them idk why it's so embarrassing bye)
potentially horrid english because english is not my first language (i pull this excuse every time)
slow replies on here bc i forget about this app 24/7
── MY CARRD
kassiadreams.carrd.co
literally this whole thing summarized
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ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ♡ ͟ ׂ 𓂂 THANKS FOR 400+ FOLLOWERS I LOVE YOU GUYS MWAH !! should i do anything special?? if u have any ideas lmk and i'll see what i can do LOL
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ⊹ ׂ ok i know a while ago i said to drop some stuff in my ask box bc i'm bored but i havent answered any of them yet BECAUSE I DIDN'T KNOW WHERE TO FIND THEM UNTIL I GOT ON MY PC AGAIN so i'm gonna restart this time i SWEAR ill actually go over them from now on everything you ask i WILL see. thx guys!!!!
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ⋆ ۫ ໒ give me post suggestions i beg..
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vevo5sos · 5 years ago
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cjsinkythoughts · 4 years ago
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The Conversation
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Reader
Word Count: 7661 (Don’t come at me - you guys asked for it)
Warnings: !FATWS Spoilers!, Cursing, Fluff, Feelings, I Dunno What Else, This One’s Pretty Chill, Except The Ending, But You’ll See When You Get There
A/N: Here it is! I was hesitant about posting it because that means we’re getting closer to the end and I’m such a nostalgic bitch! I’m definitely gonna cry next week when the last episode comes out! Anyways, I’ve got a few things to talk about:
I think this is one of the most important chapters I’ve written and I’m excited to see your reactions to it. It is longer, but you guys asked for that, so you got it! Also, I’m loving the Asks, Comments, and Reblogs. I try to respond to all of them. I have work in a little bit, so I won’t be able to until after, but I’ll get back to you as soon as I can. Ask me anything; about my series, the show, any of the movies, personal stuff, I really don’t care. If you’re not comfortable, that’s totally fine! Every like means so much to me!
I know it’s not the end yet - we’ve got one more episode and a list of One Shots to get through - but there’s a definite feeling of this series coming to an end, and I just want to thank you all for the support and love you’ve been giving it! I’ve really enjoyed writing these characters and this story! It’s very, very special to me and I’m glad I’ve been able to share it with you lovely people!
On that note, be kind to yourselves and others! Thank you again for reading! Excuse any mistakes - this isn’t beta’d! Enjoy and stay tuned!
FATWS Masterlist
cjsinkythoughts Masterlist
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!SPOILERS UNDER CUT! (Sorry for the gifs I just love them so much and he’s so pretty and this part is technically two parts so...you get four!)
“Louisiana.” Bucky hummed, looking around the airport.
You rolled your eyes. “You’re not gonna find anything interesting about Louisiana in here, doofus. Let’s call an Uber.”
“An Ooper? What the hell is an Ooper?”
You giggled, shaking your head and grabbing his hand and pulling him towards the luggage carousel. “Uber. It’s like…a taxi service. But there’s an app on your phone to get a driver instead of waiting for one on the street.”
“Oh.” He blinked, tilting his head. “That’s…helpful.”
You laughed again, stopping in front of Carousel 3, where your flight from New York was assigned. You went back to New York to grab a bag with clean clothes and other necessities, along with taking a real shower for once. It was nice to be back in the States, as much as you loved traveling. It’d been a crazy few weeks and you were ready to just relax.
“Do you think there were any problems with Sammy’s present?”
Bucky shook his head. “Nah. Especially considering they know who we are.”
You snickered at his slight grumble. They had had…problems at the other two airports - first the one in Sokovia then JFK in New York - considering Bucky’s entire arm was metal. It’d taken a full hour before they actually let you go, and by that time they had to give you a new plane because yours had left.
“Seriously. Who else has a fucking metal arm and has 1917 listed as their birth year on their Driver’s License?” You giggled again. That was also true. They thought he was messing with them. It wasn’t until you stepped in a few minutes after they asked Bucky to step to the side, seeing Bucky get frustrated, that they realized Bucky wasn’t pulling their legs.
“Well, we’re here now and that’s all that matters.”
He nodded in agreement, watching for your bags, his hand finding yours when he realized how many people there were. “Do you know where he lives? I didn’t even think about it.”
“Yeah, don’t worry. He invited me over once. I declined, but I saved the address.”
“He…invited you over?” Bucky frowned.
You gave him a look. “I’m sure he invited you, too. You just never checked his texts.”
He licked his lips, tilting his head. “Yeah, no, I know, but I mean…why didn’t you go? Weren’t you two just talking about how you wanted to meet his nephews the other day?”
“Yeah, but I had gotten a tip on Wanda at the time and I didn’t want to miss the chance that she was there. He told me it was fine. I still felt really bad. I could tell he was a bit disappointed. I think it was one of the boys’ birthdays. Or something. I don’t remember. Is that bad? Yeah, probably. I really should remember. Maybe I should keep track of birthdays on my calendar or something.”
“Doll.” You looked up to find him giving you a magnificent smile, teeth and all. “You’re rambling.”
“Oh. Am I? Sorry. I didn’t realize.”
He shook his head quickly, squeezing your hand. “Don’t apologize. It’s cute. I’m just not used to you talking so much. You kinda did on the phone sometimes.”
You shrugged, pushing down the heat crawling up your neck at his words. “I rambled a lot to Steve.”
“Oh.”
His face fell, making you scrunch your eyebrows up in confusion, nudging him slightly to grin at him. “It’s nice to have someone to ramble to again, though.” There was that smile again. You were stopped from saying anything more when you noticed some kids pointing and chattering excitedly at a gleaming silver box coming around the corner on the conveyor belt. “There it is.”
He looked over his shoulder, dropping your hand and stepping over to grab it, lifting it effortlessly. You didn’t know what was in it or how heavy it was, but you were sure it felt like a feather to him.
“Alright. Got our bag, sweetheart?” You lifted up the duffle in answer and he jerked his head towards the doors. “Let’s get outta here, then. Call that Booper or whatever.”
“U-B-E-R! Ub-er!” You threw your hands up, following him as he started walking towards the exit. “What’s so hard about it?!”
He just gave you a little smirk over his shoulder.
***************
Bucky kept asking the Uber driver questions about his job. The guy was super nice and patient the whole time, a thick southern accent lacing his answers. Southern hospitality was no joke and apparently had no limit as Bucky asked about his experiences, listening intently and telling him his own stories of taxi drivers in NYC.
When you got to Sam’s sister’s house, Bucky, being Bucky, tipped the driver half of what you paid for the ride, thanking him for his time and energy, before getting out.
“You’re so adorable, you know that?” You teased him as you stepped up the porch stairs and knocked on the door.
He rolled his eyes, a tint of pink dusting across his cheeks. “He was nice.”
You hummed at his defense, the smile never leaving your features. After a moment, Bucky raised his fist to knock again. “Jesus Christ! Don’t fucking knock their door down!” You grabbed his wrist and lowered it.
“Sorry. I forget sometimes.” Bucky informed you absentmindedly,  tilting his head to peek in the window. “I don’t think anyone’s home.”
“They’re probably at the docks, then.”
Bucky raised an eyebrow. “The docks?”
You nodded, gesturing for him to follow you. “Yeah. They have a boat, remember? He talked about it last week.”
“Oh right. The one he’s trying to convince his sister not to sell.”
“Yeah.” You confirmed. “I’m pretty sure it’s that way. I don’t know how far, but we can call the Uber back-”
Bucky scrunched up his face and shook his head. “Nah. I don’t wanna bother him again. We can walk.”
You gave him an incredulous look. “It’s literally his job to drive people around.”
“Well, yeah, but what if he’s got other people to drive?”
You lifted his metal knuckles to your lips. “Trust me, Buck, I’m sure he’d rather drive you than anyone else.”
“Thank you?”
Swinging your now linked hands, you gave a firm nod, letting him know it was, in fact, a compliment. “You are so very welcome.”
The walk was a lot longer than you thought it was, and you ended up on Bucky’s back after he kept complaining about how you “shouldn’t be walking this long” and you were ��injured” and you “needed rest’”. You’re not sure how a shoulder wound affected your ability to walk, but you relented and let him carry you the rest of the way to stop his whining.
“You forget, you did pull your thigh.”
“That was, like, three weeks ago! Yeesh!”
You finally got to the docks, which were bustling with people. Bucky set you down and raised an eyebrow which you shrugged in reply to, before heading over to where you spotted Sam with a few other older men.
“How do we get it off the truck?” You heard Sam ask, pointing to a large boat engine part in the bed of a beaten up truck. Scoffing as Bucky lifted it up without breaking a sweat, you leaned against the truck. Bucky grunted and set it down, looking at Sam.
“You’re welcome.” What a punk. “Just dropping this off.” Bucky lifted the case and set it where the engine was previously, Sam coming to stand on the opposite side of the truck as you. “You can sign for it and I’ll go.” You snorted, shaking your head, making Bucky shove your shoulder - the uninjured one - playfully. “I called in a favor from the Wakandans.”
Sam looked at you curiously. You shrugged and shook your head. “Don’t look at me, Sammy. He wouldn’t tell me what it is. He’s all hushy hushy about it until you say so.”
Before Sam could reply, there was a squeak and hissing over at the boat where steam was coming from a few pipes.
“Sam!” You knew that was Sarah from pictures Sam showed you. You stayed up by the truck, pulling yourself onto the bed while Sam tried fixing the pipe, Bucky butting in to show him how to do it properly.
“Why didn’t you use the metal arm?”
You saw Bucky lift up said metallic limb. “Well…I don’t always think of it immediately. I’m-I’m right handed.” Letting out a laugh, Bucky turned around and scowled teasingly at you. “And what’re you laughing at?!”
“Nothing!”
“Well then get your ass over here!”
You rolled your eyes, hopping down from the truck as Bucky asked if Sam wanted help with the boat. You leaned against a wooden post, grinning when Sam looked at you.
“I don’t have any plans.”
Sam gave a small smile, jerking his head back. “Yeah.”
You jumped down onto the boat to follow him, looking over your shoulder and stopping with an amused eyebrow raised as Bucky introduced himself to Sarah. “I’m Bucky.”
“Ah…Sarah.”
“Sarah.” Bucky repeated her name, before walking towards you, a grin still on his lips.
“Careful, Barnes. That playboy Steve warned me about is coming out.” You nudged him with a smirk, ignoring the feeling of your stomach dropping.
He rolled his eyes, kissing your head as he passed you and Sam to go where Sam was gesturing. “Don’t worry, Y/N. You’re still my doll.”
Sam raised an eyebrow, falling into step besides you and lowering his voice. “Conversation?”
“Hasn’t happened.” You informed him through clenched teeth as he groaned.
Sam gave you a list of chores that needed to be done to clean up the boat, giving you a quick tour and letting you know where all the tools needed where. You set to work immediately.
Sanding down, replacing old parts, cleaning, polishing and painting over the things that didn’t need replacing. They didn’t let you do any heavy lifting because of your stupid shoulder, but you were still able to help.
Sam had turned on some music for you to listen to, so you danced around the boat while cleaning. Turning your head when you felt a pair of eyes on you, you smiled when Bucky snapped his head back down to the wood he was sanding down.
“Gonna dance, Barnes?”
He looked back over, shaking his head. “Nah. I’m good watching you.”
Rolling your eyes, you got back to work, continuing to bop to the music, fully aware that he was watching you now.
A little while later, you were repainting the edges of the boat orange, when you looked over and noticed Bucky playing around with a paint scraper…sitting right on the edge that you had just finished repainting a few minutes ago.
“Buck!”
He looked over, eyebrows raised. “Yeah?”
You bit your lip, trying to hold back your mischievous grin. Shaking your head, you waved dismissively. “Never mind!”
He gave you a confused sort of pout, before shrugging and continuing to fidget with the tool. It wasn’t until later when he got up to help Sam tear the metal plating off the edge that it came to light with Sam chuckling and raising an eyebrow.
“Sit in something there, Barnes?”
“What?”
Bucky craned his neck back, eyes widening when he saw the orange paint on his ass, contrasting with his jeans. You let out a cackle and he whipped towards you, pointing at you accusingly, although the small uptick of his lips let you know he wasn’t really mad.
“Y/N!”
“No, no, no!” You laughed, sprinting across the deck, shrieking when he grabbed your waist and spun you around. You gasped when he grabbed a paint brush and painted an orange stripe right down the front of your shirt. “James!”
“Justice, sweetheart.” He breathed in your ear with a chuckle.
You shook your head, wiggling out of his hold. “This is a nice shirt!”
“You should’ve thought about that before.” He smirked, crossing his arms. Your eyes caught sight of Sam behind him, who raised an eyebrow and the bucket of paint he was holding. You nodded with a little giggle, making Bucky’s eyes narrow. “What’s so funny over there, do - holy shit!
You guffawed as orange paint dripped down his head, Sam standing innocently behind him with the now empty bucket behind his back. “Samuel!”
“Oops?”
“I’m gonna kill you!”
“Try me old man!”
“Fuck!
“Doll!”
“Oh my God!”
Paint, orange and white since those were the only cans they had out, flew across the deck, paint brushes being used like fencing swords.
You found out too late that wet paint was a little bit slippery and you slid on a huge puddle, sending you, not onto the ground below, but over the side of the edge into the water. 
“Doll!”
“Cher, you good?!” 
The three of you looked at each other, stunned for a moment, before bursting into fits of laughter and you nodded. “I’m good!”
The boys helped you get back up onto the dock, Sarah appearing with towels she conjured up out of thin air. “Let’s get you into dry clothes. Do you have-?”
“We’ve got some. We got a bag.” You told her with a grin, facing the guys. “You two should clean up some, too. Sammy, you’ve got a little something right there.” You pointed to your cheek, his own having a giant white splotch from his temple to his jaw. “And Buck?” You sniggered, gesturing to the whole of him. “You’ve got a lotta something right there.” 
“Ha. Ha.” He looked down. His top was practically tiger print, drenched in orange with white here and there, and his ass still orange as well. His hair, which had been plastered to his forehead, was starting to dry now, and it only made you laugh some more thinking about what a pain it’d be to get it out. For him, at least.
“God. Can’t even have a relaxing day on the boat with you two.” Sam jested once you finished up and joined him and Bucky, who had just finished dumping out some water buckets. Bucky had changed his shirt and it looked like they tried wiping their faces, but Sam still had small lines of white down his face. “How ‘bout a couple of drinks? Surely you can’t ruin that too.”
“Ruin?” You gasped in mock offence. “Sammy! I just made the day more…interesting.”
Sam chuckled, ruffling Bucky’s hair, which still had orange streaks in it. “Let’s go get some beers.”
************
You chatted for a bit, mainly you and Sam with you asking how Sarah and the boys were while Bucky with your legs in his lap, just listening to you two and sipping at his bottle. You had his hand in your own lap, wiping it down with a rag due to the paint that got on it.
“You’re lucky this is vibranium, you know.” You commented off handedly. “If it was your other one, it’d definitely get stained.”
“And who’s fault is that?” Bucky shot back with a teasing grin.
“Sammy’s.”
Sam spluttered. “Wh-what?! You started it!” You laughed, shaking your head.
Falling into a comfortable silence with just the water and birds chirping as your soundtrack, you downed the rest of your drink, which Bucky took as finished. “Well,” you moved your legs to let him stand up. He leaned forwards to clink his bottle against Sam’s and you stood up and stretched. “Gotta catch our flight tomorrow. Get a hotel room for the night.” Sam gave you a look to which you rolled your eyes at as Bucky set down his bottle and grabbed his jacket. “Crash, you know?”
“So you’re just gonna set me up like that, huh?”
“Well I don’t wanna make it weird for your family.”
“Just stay here.” You laughed as Sam babbled on about how nice the people were here, grabbing the jacket Bucky handed to you. It was getting a bit chilly from the breeze on the water and the sun going down. Plus, that water was cold.
“But don’t flirt with my sister.”
You cackled at Bucky’s face, that turned serious, his head shaking. “No.”
“‘Cause if you do I’ll have Carlos cut you up and feed you to the fish.”
“Can’t hold back the dog, Wilson. It’s been stuck in a kennel too long.”
Bucky turned to you, grabbing your jaw and squishing your cheeks together. “You know what? You need to shush. You’ve been snippy all day.”
You just smiled as innocently as you could with your lips being held by his metal fingers. “You’re too fun to mess with.”
He pecked your nose. “As long as I’m the only one you’re messing with. I’ll be right back.” He let you go and spun around, maneuvering around the boat in a way only a trained assassin could do.
“Oh my God, please! Please just put me out of my fucking misery! You’re killing me, cher.”
“What?” You gaped at him.
“Don’t act innocent!” Sam huffed, giving you a pointed look. “If I have to watch you two make googly eyes at you one more fucking day with neither of you doing anything about it-”
You rolled your eyes. “Oh come on, Sammy-”
“Don’t ‘come on, Sammy’ me! And don’t come at me with that ‘he doesn’t like me back’ bullshit. If you think for a second that boy wouldn’t follow you to the depths of the fucking ocean, you’re blind as a bat, woman.”
You shrugged, pushing up the sleeves of Bucky’s too big jacket. “It just…hasn’t come up.”
He deadpanned, shaking his head and standing up. “That’s it. I’m done. You two are driving me insane. I’m gonna lock you in a room until you have the conversation that needs to be had the next time either of you does something stupid.”
“Yikes. That’s gonna be quick.” At his look, your smile dropped and you nodded. “Okay, okay. I’ll…I’ll bring it up later.”
“Tomorrow or nothing.”
“Sam-”
Sam tilted his head, brow creasing. “Is it still Steve? Is that what this is still about? Because he’s gone, and he’s been gone and you need to get over it-”
“No. It’s not…” You sighed. “It clicked the other day. When we were hanging out. Steve left and, yeah, I might always love him, but Bucky…God…I love Bucky, Sam.”
The man grinned proudly. “I’m glad to finally hear you admit it. So what’s the problem?”
“It’s still complicated, right? I mean…he’s his best friend and I’ve never dealt with stuff like this before and-”
Sam’s smile dropped and he groaned again. “Imma head out. I can’t take this. Dumbass and dumberass. I swear to God.” You sniggered a bit as he grumbled, walking towards the ramp to climb off the boat, just as Bucky reappeared.
“Hey-”
“Nope! Not right now, Barnes! I can’t handle it! I can’t!”
Bucky gave you a weird look. “What’d you do?”
You chuckled, shaking your head. “Nothing.”
“Well, c’mon, doll. Sarah said she’s gonna make gumbo for us, whatever that is.” He held out his hand as you walked over. 
“You’re such a city boy.” You teased lightly, taking his hand and letting him help you pull you onto the dock. You shoved the sleeves of his jackets up again since they slipped from the first time. “Let’s go get some dinner. I’m starving.”
******************
“We have the couch and a mattress we can pull out, I just have to make Sam get it from the attic-”
“That’s alright. The couch is fine.” Bucky waved dismissively while you nodded in agreement.
Sarah raised an eyebrow at you two. “For both of you?”
You blinked, exchanging a look with Bucky, before shrugging and turning back to her. “Yeah.”
“Don’t fight it, Sarah.” Sam peeked out from the hall. “They’ve got a weird relationship.” You stuck your tongue out at the man while Bucky rolled his eyes, dropping your duffle bag by the couch. “How mature, Y/N.” Sam mimicked your action.
“Uhm…okay. Let me set up the couch for you then.”
Once everything was set up, you and Bucky thanking her for dinner - delicious and you’d never seen Bucky smile so much, the boys having kept him highly entertained throughout the meal - and for letting you crash, Sam and Sarah headed to their rooms, the boys already having been tucked in for the night.
“Are you gonna sleep on the floor?” You asked quietly, sitting down on the couch and doing the things for your night routine you didn’t already do in the bathroom.
“I think I’ll be okay.” He sat besides you. “I’ve been doing fine the past week or so.”
You smiled at him. “That’s good. Alright.” You stood up and stretched. “Let me just make sure everything’s in the bag and ready-”
You yelped when his arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you into his chest, shifting down to lay against the couch’s arm. “Do it in the morning.” He yawned, looking up at you tiredly. “I wanna go to sleep.”
“Then go to sleep, Buck. I’ll be right back.” He shook his head, his hold tightening as he sunk deeper into the couch.
“No. I fall asleep better with you.”
You rolled your eyes but grinned, settling down with your legs between his, your chin resting on his sternum so you could still look at him. He beamed, but you could see the exhaustion settling in, and he grabbed the blanket Sarah left over the back of the couch and draped it across your back, over both of your legs, before his arms crossed snugly under the covers at the small of your back.
“Dinner was nice tonight. I haven’t had a meal cooked like that in ages.” You hummed.
He nodded in agreement. “I think that’s the first time I’ve sat around a table with a family since the 40′s.”
You raised an eyebrow. “Did you like it?”
“Yeah...kinda makes me wish I had my own.”
“Your own what?”
“Family.”
You bit your lip, shyly avoiding his gaze. “You’re my family, Buck.”
A light kiss was pressed to your forehead, his fingers bringing your gaze back to his. “There’s no one else I’d rather have.” The room lapsed into silence again, the clock ticking on the wall, the low sound of crickets outside.
“You have really pretty eyes.” You mumbled, tilting your head slightly as you studied them. They always held so much emotion in them, especially in contrast to when you first met him as Soldat. They matched the water you fell in, and you wouldn’t mind falling over and over into them.
“Yeah, well, you’re just really pretty inside and out, so I think you’ve got me beat, doll.” He whispered back.
“You know who else is pretty? Sarah.”
He nodded with a hum. “That’s true. But I meant what I said. You’ll always be my doll.”
“So you’re not gonna ask her out?”
He gave you a weird look as you traced his sharp jawline absentmindedly. “Nah, sweetheart. It’s just…some harmless flirting. Except on Sam’s part.”
You gave a soft huff of laughter. “Yeah…he’s gonna strangle you. It is nice to see you like that, though. Flirty. Relaxed. Happy.”
“You make me happy, sweetheart.” He hummed, nosing your temple. “The road trip helped. I’m learning everything from you. Maybe not the flirting, but the carefree part.”
You blinked at him, finger stopping for a moment as you thought. “Oh…”
You felt his fingers dance up your spine, making you shiver slightly. “What I would give to know what’s goin’ on inside that pretty lil’ head’a yours, doll.”
“I just think it’s funny you’re learning how to be carefree from me…when I just started learning how to do it myself.”
“Oh yeah?”
You nodded, your finger continuing its path down his jaw. “I think it started with the goats.”
“The goats?”
You nodded again, resting your cheek on his chest, watching your finger move up from his chin. Once you got to the end of his jaw, you lightly scratched his scruff. “In Wakanda. Our goats.” You weren’t looking at him, so you didn’t see the way he physically melted at your words, his eyes going soft, his lips turning up slightly.
“Our goats, huh?”
But your tired brain wasn’t really processing what he said, instead focusing on the features your finger was now tracing - over his lips, up his nose. “You’re pretty too, Buck. Did you know that? Inside and out.”
He craned his neck to kiss your forehead. “Go to sleep, cuddle bug.”
Nodding, you nuzzled into his chest, finger feeling over the bumps and indents on the dog tags resting near your head. You tried going to sleep, but you kept shifting, your mind not shutting off.
“Hey, sleepyhead, I’m trying to, you know, sleep.”
“Sorry.” You apologized meekly. “I just…I dunno. I can’t.”
“Are you comfortable?” He peeked open and eye to look at you questioningly. You nodded. “Is it too hot? We can take the blanket off. I know I’m a walking furnace-”
You shook your head. “No. I don’t know why. I just can’t sleep.”
He licked his lips thoughtfully, before cradling your head and guiding you back down to his chest. “Lay down, sweetheart. Relax.” He stroked your hair, moving his head down to rub circles in your back muscles, pressing down harder when he felt knots. 
You hummed, your eyes closing. “That feels good.”
“Shshsh. Just go to sleep.” His lips pressed against your head once more, lingering a bit longer than they usually do, as you felt yourself drift off. You cuddled his side, throwing a leg over his waist, before nodding off, only barely hearing his words. “Attagirl. There we are.”
******************
“Doll?” You felt a shift underneath you and groaned, your eyes barely cracking open. “Hey, sleepyhead…it’s okay. I’m just gonna slip out from under ya, alright? Gonna go help Sammy with somethin’.”
You raised an eyebrow, letting him move you against the cushions as he sat up on the edge of the couch. “Sammy?”
“Yeah.” He bent over and kissed your cheek. You stretched out your limbs, about to rub your eyes, when he stopped you, kissing the inside of your wrists. “No. Not you, doll. Go back to sleep.” 
“Bu’...’m gonna help.” You slurred out, looking at him with confused, squinty eyes.
He chuckled, shaking his head. “It’s okay. Rest. You can help when you wake up again. Okay?” You mumbled out an “okay”, bringing the covers up to your chin and snuggling deeper into the cushions. “There ya go, cuddle bug. Good girl.” There was another kiss, one to your temple this time, before you slipped back into unconsciousness.
******************
The next time you woke up was because of a clatter in the kitchen. You yawned and sat up, stretching, eyebrows furrowing when you realized Bucky wasn’t with you. It took you a moment to remember your conversation, which you half thought you dreamt.
“Boys!”
“Sorry!”
You chuckled at the shouts, rubbing your eyes. “I am so sorry!” Sarah apologized, looking over at you from the stove. Trying to make the boys breakfast before school. Do you want anything? Eggs? Cereal? Toast?”
“Uh, cereal’s fine.” You stretched out your back again, before throwing back the covers and standing up, a little shakily.
“You wouldn’t happen to know where Sam went, would you?”
You raised an eyebrow. “Uh, I think him and Bucky went to fix something on the boat. I don’t for sure, though.”
Sarah groaned. “He probably went to fix the stupid water pump which doens’t need fixing. Dumbass.”
You chuckled, padding over into the kitchen. “Yeah. I just work with him. I can’t imagine growing up with him.”
“Trust me; some days you want to throw him in a box and send him out to sea. Bowls are in that cupboard.”
You snickered, moving over to grab a bowl from the cupboard she pointed to. “That’s how I feel with Bucky. Sam is less often, but when those two get together…it’s a full zoo.”
She laughed at that, nodding as she got out the milk and a few boxes of cereal for you to choose from, handing you a spoon. “That I believe.”
“Thank you.”
“Of course.”
You started pouring your cereal, watching in slight amusement as she got the boys ready for school. “Bus is here! Get out the door! Bye! Love you! Make sure you take those extra lunches to-!”
“Yeah, mom! We know! Love you too!”
You gave a slight smirk as she huffed, looking around the kitchen at the pans and dishes left out. “Kids, huh?”
She gave you a smile. “Yeah. They’re a handful, but I wouldn’t trade them for anything. How about you? Any thoughts of kids?”
“Me?” Your eyes widened, nearly choking on your food. “Oh God no. Not right now, at least. I don’t even have a solid house right now. My life’s too off the walls for that.”
“And Bucky?”
You raised an eyebrow as she leaned on the counter. “Bucky? What about Bucky?”
“Does he want kids?”
“Uh…I dunno.” You shrugged, clearing your throat as you remembered your talk last night. “Kinda makes me wish I had my own.” You quickly pushed his words aside. “He hasn’t told me.”
“Wait, wait. You two…aren’t together then?”
You blinked, your eyes widening again. “Together? Me and Bucky? No…why? Did Sam say something?”
Her expression morphed into one of disbelief, crossing her arms. “Sam didn’t say anything. You guys did. Are you seriously expecting me to believe you aren’t together?”
“We’re not! I mean - he was flirting with you yesterday-”
“Right, okay. Honey, that’s flirting. And it’s harmless. The way he follows you like a puppy and you look at him like he hung the stars? That’s feelings. And that’s a lot more impactful than flirting.”
You frowned in contemplation. It was really that obvious? You were really that blind? This whole time? You knew Sam knew - but you just figured that’s because he’s been there since it started. And Sharon knew for the same reason. But Sarah? The woman you just met the day prior and had barely had a conversation with?
“It’s, uh…” You chewed on your cheek, swirling your cereal around. “It’s complicated.”
Sarah didn’t look impressed. “Do you like him?”
“I’m kinda in love with him-”
She shrugged, not letting you finish your bashful statement. “Then I don’t see what’s complicated about it.”
And that was that. She turned to clean up breakfast, leaving you alone with your thoughts.
You thought it was more complicated than that. I mean…you were in love with your best friend. Who left you. With the guy you had feelings for who just so happened to be your best friend/crush’s best friend. And now you were completely in love with your best friend’s best friend, but your best friend still had a piece of your heart.
But…you loved Bucky. And he was here. And Steve was not. And when you put it that way…you guess it wasn’t so complicated after all.
******************
You snickered as you walked up behind Sarah, the woman berating the men for not leaving the water pump along like she asked.
“Hi, Sarah.”
Sam shot Bucky a warning look, who grinned, but you were surprised to see Sarah ignore him, sending you a knowing glance instead, before turning back to Sam. “I told you specifically that the water pump was not the problem, and yet, here you are.”
“Yep, Samuel.”
You chuckled, Bucky shooting you a wink. “Yeah, Samuel.”
Sam narrowed his eyes at you, turning to Sarah. “In our defense, you were supposed to be done long before you woke up.”
You nearly facepalmed at his “defensive” and you were trying so hard to hold back laughing as she told Sam off, sending them away.
“I don’t wanna hear a peep from you.” Sam pointed at you, but that only made your chortles come out, and you didn’t even bother hiding them. “She’s a very mean person.”
“It’s tough love.”
You giggled as they started arguing, slipping an arm around their waists, their arms instinctually coming up to your shoulders.
“Oh my God. A prowess?”
“Yes, Y/N. A prowess.”
“You know, maybe if you someone let me help-”
“Hey, woah! You were tired! I let you sleep! I was being nice!”
“Too late now. I’ll be lucky if Sarah lets me within a hundred feet of it!”
“She got you so good, Sammy!”
“I agree with Buck for once! You’re too snippy right now! And c’mon man! Stop flirting with my sister!”
“It’s my natural charm.”
“Charm? What charm?”
“Ouch, doll! That one hurt!”
****************
“Okay.” You stepped out of the bathroom, walking over to the couch and setting the bag down on it. “I’ve got everything packed. We’ve got a little over an hour until we need to head out which gives you two time to go set something up for Sammy and maybe even a bit or training before we leave.” 
Bucky frowned. “You’re not gonna come out?”
“I will in a bit. I just got a phone call I need to take.”
Sam narrowed his eyes. “Government call?”
You gave a mocking smile. “Can you guess what they want to talk about? It’s okay. I’ll survive. It’s only a phone call, so I can always hang up. Pretend I didn’t have good service. I do it all the time.”
“I’m sure you do.” Sam chuckled. “In that case, I’m gonna go grab some stuff and get the shield.” As he walked out, he made sure to mouth at you behind Bucky’s back ‘conversation’ making you swallow thickly. You were planning on talking to Bucky anyways, and with Sam’s insistence…
“Okay, so, I was thinking when we get back-”
“Can I talk to you?”
Bucky stopped digging through the bag, blinking at you in surprise at your sudden burst. “Uh…well, we already are, so yes.” He chuckled, straightening and crossing his arms.
“I wanna have the conversation.”
He was left stunned, once again, his mouth opening and closing and his weight shifting form one foot to the other. “Like…that conversation? R-right now? Are you sure?”
You winced at her nervousness. “Sorry, sorry. I know it’s kinda…I just…I need to talk about it. Now.”
“Okay, okay. No, that’s fine. Don’t apologize. I just wasn’t expecting it.” Bucky cleared his throat. “That’s all.”
“Okay…” You breathed with a small nod. You opened your mouth, but Bucky shook his head.
“I hafta say this first; I didn’t mean to hurt you by telling you about Steve. I-I dunno what I thought. That it’d give you closure or something. I dunno. But it hurt you and I’m sorry. That wasn’t my intention.”
“Buck-”
“I was jealous. And guilty. And mad. And upset. I still am. Kinda. I guess. I dunno.” Bucky shook his head, running his hand through his hair and all you could do was gape at him as he started confessing to you. “Remember when we danced? In Madripoor? Doll…I don’t wanna dance ever again if it’s not with you. I fucking love you, Y/N. And not in the way we’ve said it before. I’m in love with you. I have been for-for a while now. I just - you were Steve’s. Steve loved you and you loved Steve and that was that and I was just the broken childhood best friend. But Steve left and he told me to take care of you and I didn’t know what to do with that, because you still love Steve. I think. I dunno. And I didn’t want to break what we have because you’re all I have left of him. You and that stupid shield. You’re my family. My home. I really meant it when I told you that. And that’s why I couldn’t tell you. Because it means too much for me to break what we have because I fell in love with my best friend’s girl. You know?”
He looked at you with pleading eyes, begging you to understand, but your brain was still trying to process what he was telling you.
“Oh God…” He groaned. “And now I just told you everything and you’re looking at me like that wasn’t what you wanted to hear and now I’m thinking this wasn’t the conversation you were thinking it was going to be-”
You were moving across the room before you could stop yourself, pulling him by the teal Henley you knew was comfortable having worn it to bed before when you visited him in New York, and slanting your lips over his.
His breathing hitched and he froze, and for a hot second you thought you made everything worse, but then he was kissing you back and his hands were on your hips and he was pulling you closer and it felt so fucking good you didn’t want to pull back for air.
“Shut up.” You muttered when you finally did pull back, your forehead against his, your eyes clenched shut. “Shut up, shut up, shut up, shut up.” You pulled back to look up at him, chests heaving against each other, your eyes prickling. “I’m not good at this. I’m not good at opening up. I only ever was good at it with Steve but Bucky…I’ve been doing it with you. This whole time and I didn’t even realize it until the conversation in the car.”
He reached up to cup your cheeks, wiping away the relieved tears that were falling from the weight you were finally getting off your chest.
“I love you. I’m in love with you. How could I not be? After all that time in Wakanda? I was never Steve’s girl, Bucky. I wanted to be. Dammit, did I wanna be, but I wasn’t. Not really. And he’s gone. But you’re not. And I don’t know why it took me so long to see that. That you’re the one in front of me. You’re the one who held me when I needed it once he left. You’re the one that would listen to my rambles that I’m just realizing was most of our phone calls. You’re not just the broken childhood friend. Don’t ever think that. I don’t pick up the phone at five in the morning after searching for a friend until two for just anyone. Even Steve’s best friend. And I’m such an idiot because I’ve been pushing away my feelings all these years for Steve and then I let them out with you at the wrong time, because I love Steve, Bucky, but I’m not in love with him. Not since I fell in love with you. And I know it doesn’t make sense, but Steve was the first one I cared about and that’s just how I feel and I can try to explain, but-”
His lips crashed onto yours again and you could taste the salty tears that were pouring down your cheeks, but you didn’t care. He was holding you and he was kissing you and it was even more perfect than you thought it’d be.
“You’re adorable when you ramble, but Jesus Christ, shuddup, doll.” He breathed. “Just tell me you love me. Tell me you love me just a fraction of how much I love you.”
You looked up into those ocean eyes, your own shining with earnest affection. “James Buchanan Barnes. I love you.”
“That’s all I need to know.” He murmured against your lips, holding your head against his, still wiping away your tears. It felt like with each one that fell, you felt lighter and lighter. Like they were taking away every fear and anxiety you held within you for the past six months.
“Alright! I was thinking we could just set up in these trees out here - holy shit! Is it done? Did you do it? Did I miss it? Has the conversation been had?”
Bucky chuckled as you giggled. “He has the worst timing.” The last two words were loud enough so Sam could hear, although the man heard the whole sentence. 
“I’m gonna take that as a yes!” Sam cheered. “Halle-fucking-lujah! Finally! I was that close to locking you two in the attic.”
You shook your head at Sam’s personal celebration, drowning the rest of his words out as you looked at Bucky, who swept his thumb over your cheek catching one last tear, before pecking your lips.
“I finally get to kiss where I really want to.” He spoke softly, kissing your lips again. “Are you mine, doll?”
“I thought you said I’d always be your doll.” You answered cheekily. He grinned, kissing you again, pulling you against him by the hips.
“Okay, okay! That’s enough! We get it! You’re in love, finally, but I don’t wanna see it anymore! Now will you come help me with this shit?”
Bucky left one more lingering kiss on your lips, before you pushed him away reluctantly. “I’ll be right out.”
He nodded, moving over to help Sam carry the things he’d gathered.
You watched them put it all up from the window, gnawing on your cheek as you spun your phone in your hands. Coming to a decision, you tossed your phone in the duffle bag and walked out with it just as the boys finished.
“That was a quick phone call.” Sam raised an eyebrow.
You shrugged. “Didn’t call them. If they really need me, they’ll find me.”
Bucky grinned as you set the bag down under a tree, pecking your lips when you got close enough for him to grab by the waist to hold you against him. You rolled your eyes, shoving him playfully away and giggling as Sam let out a groan.
“Alright. Let’s see what you’ve got, Sammy.”
~
><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><
Bucky knew he needed the tough love talk Sam was giving him. He needed to hear it. Because, deep down, he had known it all along, he just refused to believe it. He tried doing it. Making amends. He knew he wasn’t though. And of course he knew immediately who that one person would be.
“And hey.” Bucky looked at him. “Let me tell you what. Telling my girl all that you told her? That’s a good start. I’m proud of you. Both of you. You’re already happier. I can see it in your eyes.”
Bucky chuckled, shaking his head as he thought of the gorgeous woman he nearly let slip through his fingers. He looked over to the house, where she was inside somewhere getting ready after suddenly deciding she needed to shower before they left. “I was stupid.”
“Yeah you were. You both were. I’m so relieved it’s over.” Sam nudged him. “Treat her right, Buck. She deserves it.”
“I know…I just hope I can.”
Sam shook his head. “Uh-uh. Don’t do that. You were just starting to use that cyborg brain of yours! She chose you. And before you say anything,” Sam cut Bucky off from speaking as he opened his mouth to object. “She chose you before Steve left. It just took her dumbass this long to realize it.”
Bucky nodded, a small smile on his face. “Yeah…okay…” Before he could say anything, the goddess herself stepped out, jogging over, looking absolutely amazing in her jeans and his t-shirt. “Good talk.”
Sam laughed at his quick ending of the conversation as she came up besides them. “Talking about me?” She asked cheekily, eyes shining. Bucky couldn’t help but take her under his arm, pecking her lips. Now that he could, he didn’t think he could stop. He was addicted to say the least.
Throwing Bucky a wink, Sam shrugged. “Just all the things that get on our nerves.”
“Ha ha.” She rolled her eyes. “We better get going.”
Bucky and Sam clapped hands. “You know Karli won’t quit.”
Bucky smiled. “Ah. You call us when you have a lead and we’ll be there.”
Y/N stepped forwards to give Sam a hug. “Anytime, Sammy.”
“Eh. Anytime between noon and midnight.” Bucky corrected. “Or noon and ten. Noon and five…you better just call at noon to be safe.”
Sam rolled his eyes. “Sure, sure.”
“Not necessarily as a team.” Bucky continued, grabbing the bag, getting Y/N back in her spot at his side under his arm.
“Nope!”
“We’re not that good.”
“Definitely not.”
“We’re professionals.”
“Definitely.”
“And, uh, we’re partners.”
Sam snapped, pointing at him. “Coworkers.”
“But we’re also a couple of guys with a couple mutual friends.”
“Ones now gone and you’re dating the other.”
“So we’re a couple of guys…with a badass to help out.”
“I can live with that.”
“Perfect.”
“Oh my God.” Y/N let out that laugh Bucky could never get enough of, shaking her head at the two of them. “You forgot dumbasses.”
Sam shook his head. “Nuh-uh. That’s your couple name.”
“Dumbasses?”
“Oh yeah.” The three of them came to a stop, Bucky and his girl - God he loved confirming it now - facing Sam. “Thanks for the help, guys. Meant a lot.”
Bucky patted his shoulder. “Of course.”
Y/N shot him a wink. “Until we meet again, Sammy.”
“Until then, cher.”
Bucky couldn’t stop his grin as she wrapped her arms around his waist, the two of them starting to walk to the main road where she already ordered an Uber. He looked down at her, kissing her lips for the nth time in the past hour.
“I wish I didn’t wait so long,” he told her seriously. “But I’d wait a thousands more centuries if it meant I get to call you mine.”
She giggled, shaking her head. “You’re such a sap! But…” she moved up to kiss him and his heart stuttered. He knew he had a goofy grin on when she pulled back, but he couldn’t help it. Especially when she laughed again. “I have to agree with you on that, Buckaroo.”
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1kook · 4 years ago
Text
disney+ & bust
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this is part of my netflix & chill collection !
summary; There’s a pounding on your door a little past noon, so hard and rough, that you almost think it’s the police finally coming to catch you for all your years of illegally pirating Phineas and Ferb. It’s not. It’s just a really drunk boyfriend wailing for your forgiveness at the door.  warnings; arguments, feelings of insecurity, bit of asshole jk, smut in the forms of degradation, dumbification, choking, fingering, spit kink, self punishment, unprotected but [ passionate ] sex, jk losing his cool, return of mean jk, he is actually an emotional mess in this one wtf miscellaneous; ANGST, anniversaries, the L word��, app developer kook, rip ‘pretty girl’ </3, we all become phineas and ferb stans word count; 13k !!
notes; me: *writes couple who’s whole arc is being silly* y’all: MAKE THEM SUFFER GIVE US ANGST!! u ask I deliver so now we all suffer 😐 ngl it was hard writing this fic n u might notice there’s some parts that seem weird n that’s bc this was TWO fics w diff wording but I ended up mixing them bc I’m insane. still had a lot of fun! felt like I challenged myself!! not proofread bc when I say we suffer we SUFFER
please let me know what you think!!! a simple ask goes a long way <3
previous part: kissanime & foreplay
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Approximately one week after The Bullet Bestie’s rise to prominence, Jungkook grows annoyed with it as his weirdly competitive nature rears its ugly head the more and more orgasms that little vibrator coaxes out of you. It turns on a weird switch in him, something slightly stuck up and snooty that he’ll never admit to out loud but is there nonetheless. By the following Friday, The Bullet Bestie is nestled deep in your garbage can and Jungkook’s back to pleasuring you with his tongue and fingers alone.
He had those moments in him, the ones where he liked to think he was better than any and everyone else, and occasionally they manifested against inanimate objects like a bullet vibrator.
Despite his polite and generally soft exterior, you catch glimpses of that cocky spirit more than anyone else. Over the past year, you’ve come to realize that Jungkook’s personality was like a coin that had been left out in the sun too long. He had this sweet and reserved nature you saw most times, a kindhearted boyfriend who adored you almost as much as you adored him. He was your angel whom you knew had a heart of gold, even if you were slowly bringing out his more childish tendencies. You knew him like the back of your hand, knew what his mom’s favorite color was and how he liked to stack the plates in his cabinet according to size and make. It was a side that was rusted from years of being out in the sun, basking in its adoring warmth, and you loved every inch about it.
And still, there was this other side to him you rarely saw. This cocky asshole who hid beneath the soft smiles and careful hands, making his appearance only through sly smirks and a tongue prodding against the inside of his cheek. He was a braggart, a man who knew his greatness yielded for no one and wanted that fact shoved down everyone’s faces. This Jungkook, this other side that never saw the light of day, was like the Hyde to his Jekyll. An unexpected, almost mean side to him that only dared make his appearance when his exhilaration was at an all-time high. Like when he was fucking you into another dimension, or kicking your ass in Mario Kart, or like now, when he was receiving an award at an annual tech ceremony.
On the eve of your one year anniversary, Jungkook’s company invites him to an awards ceremony for other web and app developers like him. It’s a grand event, filled with all the biggest nerds in the developing industry here to present the baby nerds with awards. Jungkook lies somewhere in the middle of the spectrum, both a seasoned player and a rookie all at once. He spends the night tolling you around in a floor-length gown and fangirling over all the “legends” in the room.
You know next to none of these people and none of their accomplishments but still pretend you respect them to hell and back. By the end of the main dinner, you’re sympathizing with Barbie’s ever-smiling features because your cheeks feel sore.
Towards the end of the night, Jungkook wins that random award— okay, who were you fooling? He wins the Platinum Mobile Standard of Excellence Award, recognizing him for all the hard work you’ve seen him put in this past year. It’s probably the highest recognition he can receive at this point in his career. It was an esteemed award that was bestowed upon only the most innovative developer of the year among tech companies, something Jungkook had briefly mentioned he always wanted. It’s basically the equivalent of placing first place in his field, but given Jungkook’s competitive industry and his young age, you think it’s like telling all these old Facebook lords to suck his big fat cock. (But that was your job when you got home.)
He gives a short little thank you speech, promising to work hard and own up to this title. The people around you are swooning, obviously endeared with his soft puppy dog features and melodic voice. They don’t know him like you do, don’t know that uppity twist to his grin like you do. It doesn’t slip off his face even when he steps down off the stage, arms wide open as he comes barreling towards you. Even with you in his arms, the congratulations that are thrown from every direction ring loudly in his ears and swell that ego of his.
The night goes like that for the most part, Jungkook’s acquaintances approaching him every few minutes to rain down their praises. He goes a little crazy at the open bar after a while, shoving the gold trophy into your arms as his beloved work seniors whisk him off for drinks. You don’t mind because you resigned yourself to a night of playing Jungkook’s perfectly perfect partner anyway, watching him politely mingling with his coworkers. Despite his earlier success, you know he won’t brag about it verbally. No, he’ll wait until the two of you get home—your place or his—and remind you how amazing he is with a quick snap of his hips.
As you said, he’ll never boast aloud.
However, that doesn’t mean you won’t.
“That’s my boyfriend,” you explain to the seventh person that greets you that night, excitedly pointing to where said boyfriend was slowly losing all sense of self by the bar. You don’t know anyone here beside Jungkook, and you’re pretty sure no one in their hammered minds is going to remember who you are anyway, so a little gloating never hurt anyone. “He won the ‘I’m Better Than Everyone Else’ award tonight,” you emphasize to the tipsy woman beside you who only laughs at your exaggeration. You assume she’s like you, accompanying one of the many developers here, because as soon as you finish boasting about Jungkook she moves to brag about someone too.
Truth be told, you spend the whole night re-analyzing the Zootopia movie you saw on Disney+ the other night in your head. So if the little fox fellow didn’t control himself would the city have fallen to ruins? Why was the useless sheep girl so evil and bitter? Why was there an unreal amount of romantic tension between the fox and the rabbit? Whatever, you’ll have to rewatch it some other night, and with your new Disney+ account, you could watch it anywhere you wanted to.
Now, you had never bothered to purchase a Disney+ subscription or even tried to swindle Jungkook for his password before. As far as you know, Disney+ was filled with old tv shows from your childhood, sitcoms that made you laugh when you were ten. There’s nothing wrong with that, but personally, you were a firm believer that that which was perfect should not be touched once finished; in other words, you were utterly terrified you’d rewatch an old episode of The Wizards of Waverly Place, only to find out the same joke you’ve been regurgitating for the past ten years doesn’t actually go that way.
However, the harsh reality was that Disney+ was good for a few things. Ugh, you hate when giant corporations provide decent services. Aside from Zootopia, you’ve watched about every animated media on there as well, all of which you replay in your mind as Jungkook has the time of his life with these nerds, knocking back champagne glass after champagne glass.
Anyway, the night ends a little past midnight, and Jungkook who is buzzed on alcohol and high on exhilaration ends up calling an Uber for the two of you. Your apartment— the new one he had not only helped you hunt for but also helped you move into, greatly cutting the cost of movers out with those glistening biceps and thick thighs —is still going through her rebellious phase where the potted plants are trying to take over, courtesy of Kim Namjoon. So for now, there’s a potted plant in an awkward corner that both of you stub your toe against on your way to your bedroom.
You’re thinking Jungkook is going to go to town tonight, given the fact he’s on Cloud 9 and has had his ego stroked by a bunch of dudes for the past couple hours. Maybe you guys can try out the hot role-playing scenario you saw on GirlsWay a few weeks ago, or the handcuffs you impulsively bought from Amazon one Monday night. Or maybe, and this one really makes you flutter, he’ll let you fully take the reins for once.
All those lewd fantasies end up being for naught because just as you shimmy out of your gown (with the help of his hands, of course) and turn to climb him like a tree, he’s on the other side of the room getting your makeup remover out for you. And also talking. A lot. And way more than usual.
“Did you see him, babe?” he sighs, dare you to say, dreamily, handing you the cotton pads as he begins pulling a million pins out of your hair. Slowly and with a lot of confusion, you pull your fake lashes off and begin cleaning your face. “He was amazing.”
“Uh-huh,” you say, having absolutely no idea who ‘he’ is or why Jungkook is so in love with him and not you at this very moment. “But so were you,” you add. Perfect. Stroke his ego and then stroke his cock.
Jungkook sputters at your praise. He’s carefully placing your hairpins on your thigh, cheeks flaming red every time he leans over you. “Was I?” he murmurs, voice sweet in that cute little way it always gets when he’s downed one too many shots of whiskey, enough to be buzzed but not enough to be wasted.
You turn and the pins clatter to the floor and across the bedsheets. “Yes,” you confirm, ignoring his sad huff at the mess you’ve made. Instead, you grab him by the collar of that pink button-up he taunted you with all night. “You were fucking incredible and I think incredible men deserve to have their dick sucked.”
Jungkook laughs at your vulgar statement, holding you gently by the hips as you climb into his lap. “Is that so?” The soft, shy persona is gone now, replaced by the gentle stirring beneath his dress pants. You nod hurriedly, plopping down on his lap and running your hands through his styled hair.
“Yes,” you confirm, kissing the corner of his mouth. “Luckily for you, I know this nymphomaniac who would gladly gobble up your cock at your every command.”
He snorts just as you push him into his back, nose adorably scrunched up. “First of all, you know I hate that word,” he chuckles, finally gracing you with a sweet peck that only makes you want him to fuck you into the fifth dimension. “Secondly, please don’t ever say you’ll gobble my cock up ever again.”
Something inside of you squeals with excitement as he rolls the two of you over, firm body pressing down on yours. “Oh, baby,” you groan, lazily throwing a leg over his hip. Jungkook grins and then decides to entertain you for a few minutes with a sloppy kiss.
You say a few minutes because just as things are heating up, he pulls away. He smiles apologetically. “As much as I’d love to be here with you, I actually have an early morning tomorrow.”
You frown at the sudden change in events. “Huh? They’re gonna make you work the morning after a Gatsby party?” you gasp, sitting up as he gets off of you. With every step he takes away from the bed your heart breaks a little more. “They can’t do that— that’s illegal!”
From the doorway he levels you with a comically raised brow. “No, it’s not.”
You scamper after him down the hall, watch the muscles in his back flex as he pulls his suit jacket on. “You can’t work on our anniversary— that’s illegal!” you offer instead.
He stops at your front door, feet squeezed back into his shoes. “Baby, it’s not,” he rolls his eyes, leaning down to peck your forehead. “It was either I work in the morning or work at night,” he explains, giving your messy hair a soothing caress. He’s looking at you with those eyes, the ones that make your heart lodge itself into your throat and make life a tightrope experience. There’s a devastatingly lovesick part of you that wants this moment, this kind face, to be engraved into your mind for the rest of your life. You want this to be the first and last thought you have and nothing else: just Jungkook’s adoring gaze on you for the rest of time.
The moment ends too soon when he flutters one last peck against your lips. “I’ll be done in the afternoon, okay?”
You pout. “Okay, your place?” you huff, making sure to get one last octopus squeeze around his waist. He nods. “Promise you won’t be late?”
The corners of his gaze soften. “You know I won’t,” he smiles, leaning down to bump your noses together playfully. “Can’t stay away from my pretty girl too long. Besides, I have a gift for you tomorrow.”
It’s with that sentiment and a hammering heart that you let him go. With Jungkook gone, there’s really nothing for you to do now. You took the next two days off in preparation for your anniversary sex, so you don’t have to head to sleep early like usual.
With nothing else planned, you decide on rewatching that Zootopia movie that had plagued you all night, ready to dissect every plot hole to hell and back. You don’t think Jungkook’s seen this movie yet so you add it to your long list of animated movies you’re forcing him to watch.
Part of you is actually really surprised Jungkook left. Well, kinda sorta, very, but not really. Jungkook was a good boy, that much was obvious. He took his job seriously, and if his job wanted him to come in at the asscrack of dawn, then he’d come in before the sun even rose. He was a goody-two-shoes, but even so, you were occasionally able to bring out that darker side in him.
Jungkook working, like actually working in an office setting, was pretty rare though. The dude had a chill job that let him stay home most of the time, and essentially clock in whenever he wanted. Every now and then you were able to convince him to stay, tucking him beneath your body or the covers, depending on the night, and refusing to let him go the morning after.
Once he had eaten you out until the wee hours of the day, ravenous between your thighs, and then went to work the next morning like he hadn’t broken you. Another time you had persuaded him into watching every season of the 2017 DuckTales reboot through the night. When the alarm had rung in the middle of the season finale, he had simply gotten into your shower and gone off to work.
So maybe you were a little confident in your skills, and Jungkook slipping between your fingers tonight was a huge bummer. But there was no use crying over spilled milk, you tell yourself, flinging your bra off somewhere in the corner as you snuggle back into your sheets. You’re ready to tear this Zootopia movie apart, scene by scene.
Even though your apartment is a little cold, you’re comforted by the fact Jungkook will be here to keep you warm all day tomorrow.
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All men do is lie.
Despite his promise to come home early the next day, Jungkook ends up lying. The meeting he had been in all morning— the same one that had stopped you from getting bent like a pretzel the night before —drags on well past noon. Then, Kim Namjoon, AKA Jungkook’s favorite senpai in the entire world, catches wind of Jungkook’s success last night and absolutely has to take him out to lunch to celebrate.
You scoff, glaring down at your phone and the impulsive messages you’d sent out an hour ago when Jungkook had first texted you telling you he would be late.
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You whirl around to stomp off in the direction of his living room, where all of yours and Jungkook’s favorite foods were growing colder by the minute. You had spent the longest time carefully laying them out, making sure the fried chicken was closer than the pizza but not closer than the breadsticks. Truthfully it’s a nightmare. There are about eight stomach aches worth of food sitting on his coffee table, the greasy stench makes you gag and will certainly stick to your hair for weeks, but none of that mattered because it was all for your beau.
Your very late beau who was making you grow more and more agitated with each minute that passed. Ugh! How inconsiderate of him to test your patience on a day like this. You didn’t want to be upset with him, but this was your first, real milestone as a couple with him. You had wanted to spend the whole day cuddled up, maybe finally tell him how much he really meant to you— definitely not waking up alone with eyeliner crusted eyes and an aching heart.
Deciding you’re being a little too dramatic, you head into the bedroom to calm down. This was fine, you tell yourself, carefully laying out the damn near harlotrous lingerie you had yet to put on. Jungkook would come over soon and everything would be A-okay.
Except for the part it’s actually F-not okay because soon it’s nearing sunset and the food has gone cold so you’ve stocked it into the fridge, and the pretty sheer bra has a wonky wire that’s two seconds away from piercing through your heart, but that doesn’t even matter because Jungkook being late for your all-day anniversary celebration has already ripped it to shreds anyway.  
You plop down on the couch in defeat, impulsively opening up the Disney+ app to cry through another episode of Phineas and Ferb. You’ve abandoned the satin robe that came with the lingerie in favor of donning a big t-shirt that smells like him and makes your heart hurt even more. The setting sun paints the living room in muted oranges, the chirping of birds outside the soundtrack to your lonely day.
You end up watching some other cartoon on Disney+, avoiding the Marvel section because you had promised Jungkook he could be there when you lost your Marvel virginity. Well, at least one of you was good at keeping promises, you think bitterly. For a second, you think about randomly watching one of the infamous MCU films out of order just to spite him. But then you think of that soft puppy gaze and how disappointed he’d be in you.
Whatever! It wouldn’t ever match up to the way you felt now.
Anyway, you circle back. When you’re five episodes into Phineas and Ferb you hear the doorknob rattle.
You sit up just as the door swings open, visible from your spot on the couch. He meets your gaze almost immediately, big doe eyes caught in the act. What act? You’re not really sure. In fact, you don’t even know what you’re looking at when he walks in because he’s drowning in shopping bags. His lips twist into a grin. “Honey, I’m home,” he says playfully.
You don’t laugh.
Jungkook frowns, dumping all his bags down at the entrance before waddling over towards you. “Hey, what’s wrong?” he asks, coming to stand before you and cupping your face in his hands. He’s towering over you, so tall and gorgeous but for the first time, you’re not dazed by his beauty.
“Kook, you said you’d be back hours ago,” you say slowly, avoiding his gaze. You try to keep the frustration out of your voice, but you’ve had hours to dwell on it now, and those annoying cartoon characters, though charming at first, had only served to multiply your annoyance.  
Jungkook blinks, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “I mean… yeah. But I got you presents?” he beams, glancing back at the mountainous pile he made by the door. You look over too. There are some luxury bags squeezed in between other shops you like, the occasional jewelers' logo on the side.
You stand with a sigh, sauntering off into the kitchen with him on your tail. “I don’t want presents,” you mumble, reaching to pour yourself a glass of water. You’re briefly aware of how childish you must seem. Jungkook hovers behind you.
“What? Yes, you do,” he says. “You had an entire wishlist on my Amazon of things you wanted.” It’s his turn to level you with an unreadable expression, slowly crossing his arms over his chest.
Your frown only deepens as you turn to match his stance against the counter. While it may be true that you did indeed have an entire list of impulsive items on his Amazon, that didn’t necessarily mean you wanted them all. Sometimes you just wanted to stare longingly at a pair of satin gloves without actually buying them. You don’t know how to explain this much to him. “They’re not…” you stop with another deep breath. “Forget it. Thank you for the presents.”
Now it’s Jungkook’s turn to question you. “What,” he says in an unimpressed tone, padding over to you before you can escape back into the living room to watch the entire princess movie collection on Disney+. “No, tell me what’s wrong.”
For some reason, that’s exactly what you don’t want to hear. “Jungkook,” you say flatly, narrowing your eyes at him. “You come home six hours after you said you would without telling me why, and normally I wouldn’t care, but today was supposed to be a special day for us.”
Jungkook reels at your bluntness. “Babe, I was out getting stuff for you. I know it’s our anniversary— that’s why I wanted to treat you,” he responds, oddly condescendingly like you’re a child who doesn’t understand what exactly he was doing.
You brush his hands away from your shoulders. “Yeah,” you huff. “Now I know that. But I spent all day waiting for you,” you stress, chest puffing as you grow more and more agitated by his inability to understand you. God, can he let you go now? At least a bunch of animated, geometrically drawn cartoons won’t question you like this and make you feel as childish as he was.
When he doesn’t say anything else you stomp back into the living room, snatching up your phone from its forgotten spot against the couch. “I’m going to bed.”
At that Jungkook seems to kickstart back to life. “What? ___, it’s barely six,” he says as he follows after you into your bedroom. You ignore him, shuffling beneath the covers. In all actuality, you’re going to bed to mope and watch more animated family shows, maybe cry under the guise of the plot just being so sad. Jungkook sits beside you just as you click back on to finish off your episode. “Baby, I don’t get it,” he sighs. “You’re always talking about how much you want this or that, and I go out and get you it all but now you’re mad?”
You bite down on your lip, eyes lasered in on the pictures moving before you. “Jungkook, just forget it.”
“No,” he says, more sternly than he’s ever been with you before. “If there’s a problem, tell me.” There’s a heavy pause, and then he says, “don’t make me waste my time guessing what’s wrong, okay?” 
“Waste your time?” you scoff, sitting up with pinched brows that you find match his. “I’m not trying to waste anyone’s time— in fact, that’s hot coming from you, Jungkook.”
He rolls his eyes. “What are you even saying? You’re mad because I took a little long getting presents, for you, might I add,” he huffs, plopping down on the edge of the mattress beside your knee. “You’re always saying you want this and that, but you can’t handle me going out to get those things? Do you hear how weird you sound?”
You whip the covers off of you. “Me talking about things doesn’t always mean I want them,” you defend.
Jungkook snorts. “Yes, it does,” he says. “Anytime you ramble about stuff for minutes like a little kid it’s because you want me to buy it for you.”
You blink. “Like a little kid?” you repeat, stunned by his comparison. Granted, you always knew you were the more childish of the two, but you never thought that would equate Jungkook thinking of you as a child. Something red and nasty flares in your chest. “Well sorry,” you spit, crossing your arms over your chest defensively, “sorry we all can’t be perfectly mature golden boys who would never see the light of day if I constantly wasn’t dragging them out.” You know it’s a somewhat low blow, especially because Jungkook’s told you before how his introverted tendencies were a sensitive issue growing up, but you can’t help it.
Jungkook groans, dropping his head into his hands. “Baby, don’t do this now,” he warns, digging the heels of his palms into his eyes. “Stop acting like this.”
“Like how?” you spit, “like a kid?” Jungkook says nothing, leveling you with a blank stare from the corner of his eye. You roll your eyes, phone falling off your lap. Another episode of Phineas and Ferb had started, the corny opening tune filling the space between the two of you. “At least now I know what you think of me,” you mutter over the guitar riff.
“Oh my god,” Jungkook blurts, sitting up wildly. “Of course I’m gonna think of you as a stupid little kid, look at you,” he seethes, gesturing at the phone beside you. You flinch. “All you do is watch kids shows and whine whenever I wanna watch anything normal adults watch. You complain every single day about the most normal things, like your job? Why should I fucking care that you’re working a dead-end office job in a field you didn’t even study for— that’s not my problem, __!” he snaps, eyes narrowed into little slits. “I just won an award last night,” he says suddenly, voice back to its regular volume. “I’m at the height of my career and I’m only going up, but I can’t even enjoy that because I have to come home and cater to you,” he finishes, a loud scoff punctuating the final word.
You had never imagined Jungkook finally bragging about himself would be at your expense.
A beat of silence passes, the angry glint in his eyes quickly fading away the longer you don’t say anything. You sniff once, turning your head idly to the side where Phineas and Ferb is still blaring loudly from your phone speaker. Picking up the device, you throw it across the room where it hits his closet door with a terrifying bang the breaks the silence.
The sound snaps Jungkook out of whatever shock he’d been in. “Baby…” he says slowly, carefully, like you’re a caged animal that’s just escaped the zoo.
“I’m going home,” you say, also a little too calmly. You saunter over towards his closet where your shattered phone screen glares up at you as you yank a pair of sweats off a hanger. Jungkook is still frozen on the edge of the bed, watching you with wide eyes as you move about the room.
It’s when you’re in the hallway leading downstairs that Jungkook finally snaps out of his daze, scampering behind you as you descend the stairs. “Baby,” he rushes out, loudly bounding down after you, “___, wait,” he gasps, catching you by the kitchen counter collecting your keys. “I-I didn't mean that,” he rushes out, eyes wide and frantic as they flicker over your expression. “I don’t think that—I don’t, baby, please, just… let me explain, please.”
“Jungkook, let go of me,” you respond, shaking your wrist in an attempt to release yourself. He’s not even holding you tightly— he never would—but the sound of your heart pounding in your ears makes your movements jerky and erratic. “I wanna go home.”
“No,” he chokes, cornering you against the counter. “No, baby, please just listen to me, I-I—“
“You what, Jungkook?” you snap, placing a hand on his chest and forcefully pushing him away. He lets you, stepping back with a wobbly bottom lip. “You need to tell me how you’re too good for me? How much I hold you down because I wasn’t lucky enough to get a job like yours straight out of college?” He says nothing, swallowing roughly as you jab a finger into his chest. “Well let me tell you something,” you snarl, chest heaving, “I may be childish and a huge complainer, but I’m not stupid enough to let someone walk all over me like this.”
With that, you make your great escape. Truthfully, you don’t want him to see the tears in your eyes as you yank his door open, stomping down his steps and in the direction of the nearest bus stop. The door opens right after you tug it shut, painting your shadow across the sidewalk. There’s the scrambled sound of house slippers against the concrete that follows you down. “Go the fuck back inside,” you snap without missing a beat.
Sensing your obvious anger, he pauses before he can reach you. “Text me when you get home?” he calls out quietly.
“No,” you respond.
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You would never admit to anyone that you spend the entire night eating a tub of mint chocolate ice cream. It’s disgusting and makes you gag, but it’s the only one you have in your apartment. And of course, it was brought over by none other than Jeon Jungkook himself a few days ago. Even when you’re trying to comfort yourself over how mean he was, on your anniversary night no less, you’re plagued by thoughts of him everywhere.
As much as you want to brush his words off, put on that cool girl exterior you’ve maintained since high school, there’s something different about this situation. You guess it’s impossible to brush off such hateful words when they come from someone you love and adore so much.
Were you too childish? You had always believed that side of you was what made your relationship with Jungkook so perfect. The two of you meshed well because of your differences, like yin and yang. So how had he been able to so easily deconstruct every inch of that balance in a matter of a few seconds? Was this perfect reality all in your head this whole time?
You want to tell yourself it was just a heat of the moment outburst from Jungkook, give him the benefit of the doubt because he’s never snapped at you like this before. Of course you’ve fought a couple of times in the past year, but neither of you had ever stooped as low as you did yesterday. Furthermore, the insecure part of your brain says he obviously felt this somewhere in his heart to bring it up at all. What he had said to you wasn’t something someone could make up on the spot.
You don’t text him when you get home, partly to spite him, but mainly because you had left your phone at his place anyway. You know he tried calling you last night because the call log is synced up to your laptop. He called on and off for about thirty minutes before he probably found your phone in his room. Whatever, he can mope in his regret for all you care
—is what you wanna say, but the longer he goes without showing himself to you the more your insecurities and hurt fester. Was this it? Was this the end of what was probably the best year of your life? It’s too painful to think about, to even consider the possibility that Jungkook might have gained a new insight last night and decided, hey, maybe this is for the best after all.
You drown yourself in an ungodly amount of sugar for breakfast, your laptop blaring yet another episode of Phineas and Ferb on the dining table. Muscle memory has you making Jungkook’s favorite pancakes before you can stop yourself, and by the time you do realize, you’ve resigned yourself to the blueberry smell anyway.
There’s a pounding on your door a little past noon, so hard and rough, that you almost think it’s the police finally coming to catch you for all your years of illegally pirating Phineas and Ferb.
It’s not.
It’s just a really drunk boyfriend wailing for your forgiveness at the door. You open the door with a fright, jumping back when he slumps forward and almost crashes face-first into the floor. “You didn’t call,” Jungkook cries, leaning a little too much of his weight onto you when you reach out to steady him.
The thundering of your heart slows upon registering it’s him. “Kook?” you frown, nose pinched at the ungodly stench of alcohol wafting off his clothes. “Have you been drinking?” you ask even though the answer is staring you right in the face (and in the nose).
He groans, staggering deeper into your arms. You blindly push the door shut behind him, resigning yourself to this new situation while your pancakes grow cold in the other room. “Baaaby,” he slurs, letting you guide him into the living space. He’s unceremoniously dumped onto the couch, half-opened eyes gazing up at you. “Let me,” a hiccup, “explain.”
You won’t lie. There’s a very obvious sense of discomfort sitting in your chest, torn between two paths that you don’t wish to choose between. His skin is warm and flushed like he’s just walked all the way here in this morning sun. You step over to the window that faces down onto the street below. There’s no sign of his car; you would have killed him if he ever tried to drive in this state.
“Did you walk here?” you ask instead, deciding there’s no need for one singular path, not when you can walk straight down the middle, both cleaning him and grilling him at the same time.
Jungkook’s response is delayed, head lolling from side to side as you help him out of his sweater. His skin is sweaty beneath, scorching to the touch. “Uh-huh,” he groans. Jesus, you sort of assumed but him confirming it really set things into perspective.
By no means did you and Jungkook live on opposite ends of the earth. On a good day, a drive from your place to his took about ten minutes. But walking? Easily an hour. Had he walked all the way from his place, drunk on top of that?
You brush his hair away from his face, his eyes fluttering shut at your touch. His lips are pouty yet chapped, dehydrated from the sun and the alcohol he reeks of. “Sit up for me,” you instruct, scampering off to your room for chapstick and water.
“Anything for you,” Jungkook wheezes, throat probably dryer than a desert. When you return, he’s two seconds from face planting into the coffee table and breaking that pretty face of his. You catch him with a hand on his shoulder, keeping him balanced. “Tell me what to do,” he chokes out, voice hoarse.
“Just need you to drink some water,” you say, pressing a cup against his lips. He drinks it, but a drop still dribbles down his chin.
“No,” he groans, catching your wrist in his hand when you reach up to apply some chapstick on him. “Tell me what to do,” he stresses, “to fix this. Fix us.”
His words make you pause, the tube of chapstick hovering over his plush lips. “You don’t have to do anything,” you respond quietly, trying to finish the application so you can pull away.
Jungkook doesn’t let you go. You try to look away, but there’s something about him that looks off. Maybe it’s the raw skin under his eyes, red and swollen. Or the sad droop to those same eyes that hold you captive. Or maybe it’s the subtle tremble in his hands, the fingers that hold tightly to your wrist, not to keep you there but to ground himself. “I don’t wanna lose you,” he rasps out, shakily bringing your hand to his mouth, where he presses one airy kiss to your knuckles. “Tell me ho-how to fix this and I’ll do it,” he pleads, a vulnerable look in his eyes.
Unable to withstand the sheer amount of agony on his expression, you look away. “___, please,” he chokes out, stumbling off the couch in his drunk and desperate haze until he’s kneeling in front of you. “I can’t… I can’t,” he sniffles, tears clouding those pretty eyes you’ve come to love so much. “I don’t know who I am without you.”
You clench your jaw. “You’re Jeon Jungkook,” you murmur, slipping your hand out of his hold to run through his hair. It’s knotted and a little too greasy, two things Jungkook would usually never allow. “This year’s Platinum Mobile Standard of Excellence Award recipient,” you remind him, trailing your thumb across his cheekbone when he turns to look up at you with those big Bambi eyes. “Sweet and shy, but you love being rowdy with your friends. You love movies and TV and organizing your shirts according to fabric type. You work harder than anyone I know and never complain. You date me, even though I’m a huge child,” you smile sadly.
“No!” he jumps, turning that frantic stare back into you. “Y-You’re not— it’s not,” he stammers, words still slurring together. “I’m a liar,” he cries, resting his forehead on your knees. His shoulders shake. “I don’t deserve you,” he weeps quietly. You place a hand on his shoulder. “Y-Y-You make my life so much better, ___, so colorful and fun. I-I wish I knew you in high school,” he admits, “maybe I wouldn’t have been so emotionally constipated now.”
“You’re not,” you reassure him softly.
He disagrees. “You bring out the best,” he hiccups, “the best in me.” Your heart skips in your chest. “I-I love you, you know that?”
You sputter, eyes wide at his sudden confession. “I… love you so much, y’know? I think about you ev-every night, ___,” he rambles, eyes dreamily gazing off into some miscellaneous spot on the wall behind you. “I can’t get you out of my head. Like you're a song, o-on repeat but it’s not annoying because it’s my favorite song, and I could listen to it for the rest of my life, y’know? My favorite song, I know all the words b-because it’s all I think about! I love... My love… I love you so much.”
“Kook,” you rush out, cheeks flaming as you try to pull him away from where he’s slumped over your legs. His passionate speech has you abuzz, body tingling everywhere until you feel overwhelmed, head spinning like you’re on a rollercoaster. “Let’s get you to bed.”
He nods sleepily, seemingly coming down from whatever alcohol induced rampage has allowed him to walk for an hour straight in this searing heat just to confess to you. “Y-You don’t have to say it back,” he continues to stutter as you guide him through the living room on wobbly legs. “I just-I just— can I?” he babbles. “Can I love you, ___?”
You pass through the kitchen space, where whatever you were watching on Disney+ is blaring loudly. It distracts Jungkook for about two seconds before his attention returns to you. When you don’t answer, he presses on. “Is that okay?” he asks, whirling around to face you, catching your shoulders in his hands. He towers over you by the entrance to your bedroom, dark curls tickling your forehead. His eyes are dark and glazed over, both in tears and an emotion so raw and unfiltered it squeezes around your chest until you can’t breathe. “Is it okay for me to love you?” he murmurs softly, knocking his nose against yours.
Your cheeks blaze. “Yes, th-that’s fine, Kook,” you blubber, placing a hand over his chest, where his heart is also hammering away. “Just need you to go rest now, okay?”
He nods sleepily, nudging your nose with his one last time, like a soft almost-kiss, before letting you push him into the room. “Yes, yes,” he breathes, his body finally crashing from his adrenaline spike. He flops down onto the bed unceremoniously, dark waves fanning across your pillows. You try to wiggle him out of his shirt, but it only gets about halfway up his chest before he blindly reaches for the covers. His legs stick out awkwardly, clad in the sweatpants you’ve come to associate with him.
When he’s all swaddled up in your blanket he finally goes limp, tiny snores leaving his lips as he dozes away from reality. You sigh, pressing a palm to his forehead. He’s still warm and clammy, but at this point, there’s nothing you can do but wait for him to sober up.
With a final kiss to his forehead, you leave the room, closing the door behind you before sliding against the wooden surface. There’s a trapped bird in your chest, wildly flapping its wings in an effort to get out, and it’s all stupid Jungkook’s fault in the next room. Stupid Jungkook who demolished and remodeled your heart all in less than twenty-four hours. It doesn’t calm down, even when you rush off into the kitchen for a glass of water, or when you try to immerse yourself in some other show on Disney+. It stays beating against your ribs and your chest until you’re forcing yourself to sit down on the couch and process.
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He wakes up a little before dinner. You hear him from the living room, where you’re flicking through the options on Disney+ for the nth time that day. You’ve seen the first fifteen minutes of about twenty different series and movies by now, always growing antsy and abandoning them early on. The only reason you know he’s awake is because the shower turns on for a few minutes, and then his bare feet are heard padding across the hallway back into your room.
By the time he resurfaces in the living room, you’ve resigned yourself to just more Phineas and Ferb, nonchalantly watching the silly cartoon. (Except you’re anything but nonchalant, and your heartbeat rings in your ears.)
Jungkook hovers by the door, clad in a pair of shorts he’s left here before, and a t-shirt you stole from him. “Hey,” he says quietly, lingering by the doorframe. You nod back in response. “Can I watch with you?” Again, another nod.  
Slinking over to the couch, he’s rather careful as he sits down, leaving a few inches of space between the two of you. You don’t even think he can see the screen of your laptop until he murmurs, “he’s my favorite character,” when Perry the Platypus appears on the screen.
You hum. “Thought you didn’t like these kids shows?” you ask. You don’t mean it to sound as petty and backhanded as it comes out, but that’s really no one's fault but his own.
Jungkook’s breathing tightens beside you. “No,” he admits, “I don’t. Only watch them because I know you like them.” You contemplate pausing the episode and engaging in a real conversation with him, but at this point, you’re very tired from the events of the last day. Jungkook doesn’t press either, just shuffles more comfortably beside you.
You get about five minutes in, quiet chuckles shared between the two of you, before he strikes. “I’m sorry about yesterday,” he says, so hushed you almost don’t hear it. His hand is resting in the space between you, pinky brushing against yours. “About… being late. And the presents.”
You inspire slowly. “That wasn't even the problem, silly,” you brush off. From your peripheral, you see Jungkook’s slow nod. “I didn’t want any presents,” you mention, “I just wanted you.” You look away from the screen immediately after, pretending like the spot on the ceiling is actually really interesting.
The two of you fall into silence, the animated characters on your screen rapidly chattering away. “Oh,” Jungkook says after a moment.
You roll your eyes. They’re moist but you don’t want him to see. “Yeah, oh,” you parrot back softly, relaxing into the couch again. “Did you eat the food I left out?”
Jungkook shuffles beside you, the soft lull of the speakers soon being cut as he reaches over to pause Phineas and Ferb. A couple of seconds pass and then he’s leaning into you, head resting on your shoulder. “I’m sorry,” he apologizes again, placing a palm over the hand he had been teasing for the past few minutes. “I thought I knew what I was doing but I was wrong.”
His voice is so soft and sincere, it makes your chest ache. You try to burrow your face against your opposite shoulder, try to hide the stray tear that escapes out of the corner of your eye. “It’s fine,” you brush off, voice choked off and hoarse.
Jungkook leans up, pecks your cheek so tenderly it makes you go mushy. “No, it’s not fine. I acted like a know-it-all and said something way out of line,” he murmurs, raising his head to look at you. His hand feels warm over yours. It’s the touch you craved all day and yesterday, the warm feel of his body against yours. You’re embarrassed at how easily you melt into it. “You’re the best thing that has happened to me in a long time,” he tells you, holding your hand close to his chest. “I had no right to say those things to you.”
You sniffle, resting your head against his shoulder now. His heart beats loud enough for you to hear. “Was it true?” you mumble. “Do you really think of me like that?”
He shakes his head, his soft breaths fanning across your forehead. “No, never,” he answers. “I think you’re incredible. My brain was just trying to justify my dumb anger.”
You nod, even if you don’t believe it just yet. But that was a conversation for later, you suppose, sometime in the future when you aren’t on the verge of tears and threatening to crumble apart at the simplest word that leaves his mouth.
“I should have come home like you wanted, thought about my words before saying them,” he says, snuggling closer to you. “I’m sorry.”
“Stop,” you sniffle, covering your face with your free hand as he presses a kiss to the vein that runs over the back of the hand he’s holding captive. “Now it just sounds like I'm just being inconsiderate of your gifts and a crybaby.”
Jungkook kisses your temple softly, gently. “Don’t think about the gifts,” he says. “Just tell me what you wanted to do, doll.”
His voice calms you, has you like putty in his arms. “Watch movies,” you mumble, toying with a thread on your couch cushion. “Be with you.”
He hums. “Then we’ll do that,” he says, reaching for your laptop again. The screen nearly blinds you when it flickers back to life before you, Jungkook’s low breaths against your ear making it near impossible for you to process the titles on the screen. “You liked Disney+?”
Belatedly, you nod. “I like the animated movies,” you admit quietly, the anxieties of before slowly melting away, even more so when he slides his arm around you, pulling you close against his chest.
Unlike other times where he’ll critique the hell out of such childish films, Jungkook says nothing as he starts up the Zootopia movie instead, the same one you had wanted to show him before, right from the beginning. “That bunny looks like you,” you murmur when Judy Hopps first appears on the screen.
Jungkook snorts. “You say that about every cartoon bunny.”
You turn your head to glance at him over your shoulder. He meets your gaze with a small smile you return. “It’s because you’re so cute,” you say softly, lips twisting playfully when his cheeks grow scarlet.
He knocks his forehead against yours, eyes fluttering shut. “Not cute, just lucky,” he chuckles. “Lucky enough to have you.” Your heart turns over in your chest, threatening to burst out of your rib cage at his words. You try to turn in his arms. Before you can say the words that have been sitting on the tip of your tongue for months now, he’s beating you to it once again. “I love you,” he confesses in a hushed whisper, no alcoholic influence. 
Something inside of you blossoms, eyes wide as he chastely kisses you. He pulls away without you ever reacting, too caught up in surprise to kiss him back properly. He stays close, curls tickling your forehead as he leans over you. “You don’t have to say it back, I just wanted you to know. I love you,” he says again, long lashes blinking down at you. “So much. It makes me feel like a stupid teenager again, going to the mall to buy a gift for my crush.” He laughs sheepishly, reaching down to tangle your fingers together. “Is that okay?” he asks quietly, pressing a kiss to your knuckles.
It mirrors the confession he’d given you that morning, those slurred words and teary eyes. It had been difficult to pinpoint the legitimacy of it before, the meaning scrambled by his hazy mind. But with him staring at you like this now, like you single-handedly plucked the stars from the sky to put them in those sparkly eyes of his, it makes something inside you ache.
Still, you choke on your own spit. “I-Is it okay for you to love me?” you sputter incredulously, realizing the oddity of the same question he’d thrown at you earlier. But now, you’re both sober and you can really tear apart that sentence. Jungkook nods a little too seriously for your liking. “Are you crazy?” He blinks in confusion, brows pulling together as you slowly but surely lose the last bits of your sanity. “You’re an idiot, Jeon Jungkook,” you huff, “a stupidly handsome, rich, walking dream, idiot who goes out with stupid girls like me.”
“Not stupid,” he murmurs, closing in on you again as he finally understands the truth behind your masked insults. He smells minty and like his favorite body wash of yours.
“No,” you deny. “You’re actually, like, insane. You have a bachelor pad, make enough money to sustain an entire litter of kittens, look and talk like every teenage girl’s dream boyfriend— but you mess it all up by dating evil, conniving hoes like me who lose their shit over Disney cartoons.” He says nothing, watching you with an amused grin as you talk over yourself, basically regurgitating his statement from yesterday except it kinda seems plausible now that you’re over it. “It’s stupid. No, you’re stupid. No— I’m stupid.”
Jungkook chuckles, kissing the corner of your mouth gently. “Done?” he says, a dimple appearing on his cheek. You could kiss it away, but you need him to know the amount of stupidity in this room was astronomically high. “You’re not stupid, baby,” he says. You level him with a look. “Well. You have your moments.”
“Moments?” you repeat, standing up in a hurry that has him flopping down beside you. Your laptop is lost somewhere on the cushions, the voices faded as they grow farther away. “I am so stupid. I called Namjoon a whore for taking you out for lunch!” you cry. “I am the stupidest person in the world.”
Jungkook cackles, standing up beside you. “Yes, yes, you’re my stupid girl,” he teases, tapping the pout on your lips playfully. “So stupid she slanders herself instead of just telling me she loves me too.” He bumps your noses together, dark eyes staring at you almost daringly after his claim.
You fold soon enough. “I love you,” you mumble, “even if I’m too stupid to say it.”
He rewards your confession with a kiss, pulling you into his arms soon after. He sighs, almost wistfully. “Whatever shall I do with my very stupid girl?”
After exactly three minutes of feeling safe and loved in his arms, he abandons the living room in favor of leading you back to your room, where he pushes you down against your mattress. You cling to him, leaving him positioned over you at an angle. His chest presses against yours, arm curled around the back of your head. “Gotta get up, baby,” he laughs.
You shake your head, caging him in your arms. “Nuh-uh,” you murmur, legs wiggling when he places a hand on your hip.
Jungkook chuckles, pressing a kiss against the side of your ear. “Your movie is still playing in the other room,” he reminds you, thumb drawing soothing circles on your hip. You don’t release him, his mindless touch only encouraging you to keep him close. “Babe?”
You say nothing, relishing in the comfort of Jungkook’s presence. His hair smells good and feels even softer against the side of your face. The cotton shirt he found is crumpled beneath your fists, dark blue pattern wrinkling. Finally coming to terms with his new home, Jungkook eventually relaxes into your hold with a sigh.
“Alright,” he hums, patting your hip as he repositions himself more comfortably. “I get it. My pretty girl must’ve missed me, huh?” You nod, soaking in every detail about him in this moment. Jungkook shifts, the hand on your hip suddenly falling over your thigh instead. “Or should I say my stupid girl?” he purrs, hand slipping between your thighs. “My stupid, little girl?”
A gasp catches in your throat when he runs his fingers over the front of your panties. Your legs kick out wildly at the sudden touch, toes curling at the hands you dreamt about all day and night. “Oh,” you pant, each brush of his fingers feeling better than the last.
“What?” he says, mouthing against the side of your neck. His tongue feels warm, but the trails of saliva he leaves have you shivering. “Too dumb to speak?” he scoffs, biting down against a particular spot on your neck. You whimper, unsure if it’s because of his hands or his mouth.
“N-No,” you try to sneer back, fingernails digging into his skin through his shirt. His hands are getting braver now, the pad of his pointer finger dancing over your engorged clit. The sheer material of your panties certainly doesn’t help, each touch feeling like it’s being magnified three times over. And if it felt this good with underwear, you can’t even begin to imagine how it’d feel without.
You don’t have to ponder for long, because soon after Jungkook is slipping his hand beneath your waistband, touching your sensitive pussy head-on. “Kook.”
He uses your momentary vulnerability to ease himself from your hold, finally recoiling enough to smother your mouth with his. You moan in surprise, thighs quivering as he gets to work circling your hardened bud sans your panties. Jungkook isn’t the least bit kind as he kisses you ruthlessly, likes he’s trying to compensate for something with his movements. When he finally pulls away it’s with an obnoxious pop and cherry red lips. He huffs, glancing down to see where he’s got his fingers pleasuring you.
Your thighs are squirming back and forth, closing around his hand every few seconds. Jungkook snorts. “Huh, look at that,” he mutters, trailing down until his fingers are gliding over your quickly sopping folds. “Stupid girl is good for something.”
Your cheeks burn. “Kook, I’m not—“
Jungkook levels you with an unimpressed glare. “Not what? Not stupid? But I could’ve sworn you just spent the last few minutes saying you were,” he drones meanly, landing one light slap against your cunt that makes your hips buck.
You bite down a whimper. “I was just…” you trail off, eyes rolling back when he teases one finger against your opening.
“Kidding?” he supplies. “Well, I wasn’t.” Your heart stutters in your chest, eyes growing wide as he finally pushes himself off of you, propping himself up with an elbow beside your head. His gaze is dark and unrecognizable. “I think you’re so fucking stupid, doll,” he sneers. “And what are you gonna do about it?”
You should have seen this moment coming, the manifestation of that shiny side of the coin finally reaching its full potential.
While Jungkook wasn’t exactly shy about his interests, he certainly wasn’t tripping over himself to tell you every new kinky thing he wanted to try. You sort of guessed he had some interest in this sort of play a few weeks ago when you watched the Barbie movie at his place. A lot of that night had branded itself into your three am wet dreams, but there was one particular moment that stood out to you. That was you, on your knees, with him condescendingly patting your head. Or just last week, you vaguely remember the term slipping through his lips as he pleasured you with The Bullet Bestie.
The thing about Jungkook was that, until last night, he would have never admitted, or so much as even thought, that he was better than you. That was fine because you would say it enough for the both of you anyway. Did you think Jungkook was amazing, an absolute diamond among these measly rocks? Absolutely. (Were you slightly biased because you were his girlfriend? Skip.) However, you also had this insane evil villain complex that made you want to brag about everything you possibly could, especially if that meant bragging about your boyfriend.
Realistically speaking, he was better than you, that much you could look past yesterday’s anger to admit, and not even in a stuck-up, conceited way; he had a really good job, an architecturally amazing house, and a hot girlfriend. Meanwhile, you had a mediocre job, an okay apartment, and an insanely sexy Calvin Klein boyfriend, half of which he had pointed out yesterday. Regardless of how powerful that third factor was, he still outnumbered you three to one.
Sue you, Jungkook was amazing. Anyone could see that! Except, maybe, himself.
And if the only time Jungkook would openly brag about his greatness or establish how much better than you he was, was in a post-fight, sex-induced setting, then you were more than happy to be his punching bag. So long as it was on your terms, and not as a result of his weirdly bottled up feelings.
(Yeah, you would have a long talk about that tomorrow.)
But for now, you pout up at him, clamping your thighs shut purposefully. “You’re stupid too,” you defend, “stupid and mean.”
Something in his expression changes. Suddenly, he’s moving at superhuman speed as he snatches his hand out from where you had previously trapped him between your legs, yanking you up by the front of your shirt. “Mean?” he mocks. “Isn’t that what you always wanted?” You shiver, fingers wrapping around the wrist that holds your sweater. “Wanted me to be mean and push you around like a little rag doll?”
Jungkook looks at you for another two seconds, before he’s slowly pulling away from you, leaning back on his knees. His tongue is pressing against the inside of his cheek, jaw tightening from the movement. “Baby,” he says so quietly it instills a prickle of fear in you, tainted with delicious excitement.
“Yeah?” you whisper, sitting up tentatively as you watch him, He was a bit frightening, like a wild animal about to devour you whole.
Jungkook rolls his neck, the joints in his spine cracking as he begins tugging off his shirt. You salivate at the sight, too focused on the sinewy muscles of his body to catch the dark gaze he levels your way. He throws it off to the side, his sleeve of tattoos that wraps around his bicep and begins to crawl down his chest wonderfully unobstructed now. “Eyes up here,” he says and you quickly meet his gaze. He leans forward, muscled arms coming to cage you against the headboard. “Stupid little sluts don’t have the room to make such comments,” he rasps out, unamused expression adorning his normally soft features. “Don’t you think so?”
“I-I don’t know,” you stammer, leaning away as he comes closer and closer, eventually just turning your head to the side to avoid that emotionless look. It’s the wrong move, and Jungkook lets you know as much by forcefully digging his fingers into your cheeks and turning your face back around to meet his gaze.
A hand grabs beneath your knee, tugging harshly until you’re flopping down onto your back with a squeal. You settle with his knee pressed hotly against your core. Jungkook stays towering over you. “Dumb little girls who make me watch cartoons,” he spits, tracing a hand over your chest, molding your breasts beneath his hands roughly enough to make you gasp. “And watch little animal movies on Disney+. Aren’t they just so stupid?”
“So stupid,” you concede, subtly shifting your hips for some desperately needed friction. Jungkook snorts, finally granting you your wish with one rough slide of his thigh against your core.
“I agree,” he says, and surprises you with a hand around your throat as he leans in to properly grind his thigh into you. “All they’re good for is being dumb little sluts with good pussy,” he murmurs darkly, thumb pressing into the side of your neck forcefully. “Sometimes, they don’t even do anything,” Jungkook continues, his other hand on your hip hauling you higher up his thigh. You mewl, soaked panties rubbing roughly against your folds. You miss the soft swirl of his thumb, the gentle prod of his fingers. Even so, you can’t deny this change in Jungkook is doing something to you, riling up a part of you that you hadn’t known existed. Maybe it’s the horniness from yesterday that was left unfulfilled, the one year anniversary sex that was put on pause. “Just lay there and take it, too fucked out and dumb to say anything.”
His fingers loosen for the briefest of seconds and you gasp for breath. “That’s terrible,” you whimper, rolling your hips up into his thigh, so close to his swollen cock.
Jungkook chuckles without an ounce of humor, pressing your foreheads together as he helps grind you to completion. “Isn’t it? I think that stupid little girl is cute though.”
“I’m sorry,” you blurt, vision spotting as he tightens his hand back around your throat. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you moan, stomach tight from all the stimulation.
Jungkook hums, slowing you down with a tight grip on your waist. “Hm, what are you sorry for?” he croons, pink lips pulling into an evil smile. “You said you weren’t that stupid girl, __.”
You shake your head, trying to roll your hips up again but he’s holding you too tightly now, rendering you immobile beneath him. “I am,” you choke out shamefully, grabbing at the hand on your hip in a feeble attempt to remove it. “I am a stupid little girl.”
Jungkook smirks, leaning down to slot his mouth over yours. “That’s right,” he murmurs, “nothing but a dumb little slut.”
You shiver, opening your mouth when he slides his tongue against your bottom lip. He’s not the slightest bit nice, and more messy than usual. He pulls away with a bite to your lower lip, meeting your trembling gaze with that same unrecognizable glint in his eyes. “Come on, dummy, keep up,” he snarks before devouring you again. You try to, you really do, but he’s moving like an animal today, despite his slow and drunken movements from that morning. So you end up with his saliva dripping down your throat, clinging to the corners of your lips as he begins slowly grinding you against his thigh again. He flashes you a wicked smile, pearly teeth on display for you as he glances down at your messy appearance.
“Are you gonna touch me?” you ask, lower lip trembling at the thought after your desperate rutting. Jungkook purses his lips together in thought.
“Mmm,” he hums. “Don’t know yet.”
You whine. “Jungkook, please,” you whimper, wrapping your legs around his waist. “I need you.”
Jungkook chuckles, running his hand up your waist and taking your shirt with him. He slips his fingers beneath your bra, pushing the wire over your chest as he mouths at your neck. “Cute,” he says. “Can’t do it yourself?”
You tremble, chest arching into him as he rolls your nipple between his fingers. “I-I can,” you gasp. “Just feels better with you.”
Jungkook follows your statement with a nip against your skin, tongue soothing over it right after. “Why? Because I do everything better than you? Even make you cum better than you?”
Your cheeks heat up at his blatant ego rearing its head, hands carding through the hair at the nape of his neck. You say nothing, and that only eggs Jungkook on. “Come onnn,” he teases, finally, finally rolling his hips down onto your core. You squeak, head falling back against the pillows as you’re granted the one thing you’d been chasing. “Say it.”
“Say what?” you ask, voice wobbly as he continues to slowly rut against you, the front of his shorts pressing against the soaked crotch area of your panties. “Oh, oh, Jungkook,” you whine.
Suddenly he bites down harshly, teeth digging painfully into your skin. You yelp in surprise, pussy throbbing at the pain that shoots throughout your body. Jungkook pulls away and doesn’t bother soothing over it as he leans up to capture your jaw this time. “Say you’re a stupid little slut who can’t do anything without me,” he purrs, kisses too soft for the words he says.
Your mind blanks, torn between the humiliating phrase he wants you to say and properly checking him in his place. In the end, it’s with a twisted need to please him that you’re repeating the words back to him. “I-I’m a stupid slut,” you whimper, fingers digging into his shoulder blades as he continues pushing you right along the edge. The rope pulled tightly in your core is slowly being pulled apart, threads hanging on for dear life. “Can’t... can't do anything without...”
“Without who?” he asks, reaching down and untying the front of his shorts. “Can’t do anything without who, baby?”
“Without you, without you,” you cry, bucking your hips up against his, the combined movements of both your bodies making you shake like a leaf. “Ah, K-Kook,” you wail, hips stuttering as your orgasm finally swallows you up. Your panties quickly grow wet and icky from your own arousal that pools between your thighs. Jungkook lets you writhe beneath him as you chase your high, mouth sucking a pretty blossom against your jaw.
You know better than to expect the night to end here, especially after seeing the glint that had been in his eyes as he watched you unravel.
He leans close, let’s his nose brush against yours as you catch your breath. “So perfect for me,” he groans, slotting his lips against yours. You can barely keep up with him, languidly going along with his hot tongue. “Perfect, perfect girl,” he murmurs, a stark change from the less than friendly adjectives he used just moments before. “Tell me you love me?” he says softly.
You nod, mind fuzzy as you wrap your arms around his neck. “Love you,” you exhale, letting your fingers knot in his hair. Your proclamation does something to him, makes him grind the front of his cotton shorts hard against you. For someone that was often rough and brutal with you in bed, he sure was sensitive to the mushiest of things.
“Don’t deserve you,” he huffs, hot breath fanning across your skin. He switches gears fairly quickly. “Tell me you hate me,” he begs hoarsely, rutting against your soiled panties. “Tell me I’m a piece of shit and you could do better without me,” he pleads, voice too airy to be another one of his usual sex-induced thoughts.
You shake your head, pressing a kiss to his cheek as he rolls his hips. “It’s not true,” you whisper, “I love you more than you’ll ever understand.”
Jungkook groans, suddenly winding back and tearing your ruined panties down your legs. You gasp in surprise, letting him haul you about in his blind, self-inflicted rage. “Stupid, stupid,” he huffs, though at this point you can’t tell who it’s directed at. With your underwear out of the way, he wastes no time plunging his fingers back into your cunt, bypassing the tight ring of muscle around it without any of his usual care. “You should hate me,” he snarls, lips pressed against your ear.
You moan, back arching at the sudden pleasure that blossoms between your thighs. “I-I don’t,” you gasp, toes curling.
Jungkook groans, the sound traveling down your spine and straight into your pussy. “Stupid girl,” he huffs, slipping an arm around you to pull you so close until you can’t breathe, chests lined up together. His skin is warm to the touch, scorching almost. “Fuck,” he groans, curling his fingers inside of you. You whimper and moan, incapable of staying still beneath him as he tortures you with a thumb to your clit. “Tell me you hate me,” he seethes again.
Despite the fog that’s settled over your mind, you still manage a resolute shake of your head. “N-no,” you cry, digging your nails into his back. They run dark red lines over his skin, making him hiss at the sting.
Whatever punishment he’s trying to put himself through is falling through with your refusal to admit such a thing. It aggravates him even more, your adamant stance on loving him so, and he’s retracting his fingers before you can cum again. “Please,” he chokes, face tucked into your neck. He’s sloppy with his movements; as he pulls his shorts down and kicks them away, he nearly suffocates you with his weight. “I don’t deserve you, ___, please.”
“I love you,” you whimper for lack of explanation. Jungkook leans back, that same madman gaze in his glossy eyes. He’s looking at you in disbelief almost, pouty lips puckered and swollen. Your hands slip from around him, falling on either side of your head.
Like a cobra he strikes, collecting your wrists in one hand he pins above your head. The sudden movement has him leaning in close, lips brushing over yours. His lashes are coated in a wetness he refuses to acknowledge, looking at you like you drive him insane. “If you ever try to leave me,” he whispers, jerky breath fanning over your skin, “I’ll lose my mind.”
He loves you so much it aches.
“I won’t,” you whimper, feeling your own eyes well up with an emotion that consumes every inch of your being. “I’ll never leave you, you stupid, stupid boy.”
A faint smile crosses his features at your words, lips quirking to the side. You relish in it for all of two seconds before he’s ramming his cock into you, your sensitive walls spawning around him. You sob loudly, eyes rolling back into your head. Your legs instinctively hook themselves around his waist, digging into the base of his spine as he rolls his hips into you.
You feel full and complete like he belongs there in this moment and every moment after this. It makes your heart constrict painfully. Jungkook’s soft groans follow your more unraveled noises, the vulgar slapping of skin on skin the underlying melody to it all. “Ffffuck,” he spits, greedily swallowing your moans up. You whine, arms bucking in an effort to hold him close. But he’s determined in his act of restraining you, long fingers tightening around your wrists until they hurt. “I warned you, didn’t I?” he huffs, snapping his hips into you.
Your walls clench around his hard cock, the drag as he exits sending shivers throughout your body. Jungkook’s body towers over you, glistening in sweat as he nails you into your mattress. “Remember what I said?” he asks, voice but a shuddery exhale. You shake your head numbly, overwhelmed by the rough drag across your walls. “All those months ago, when you first came over,” he adds. The hand on your hip abandons its post to cup you beneath the jaw, palm pressing sinfully against your throat enough to block the tiniest of airflow. “I’ll fuck you and keep you forever,” he murmurs, voice deeper than the pits of hell. He licks a fat stripe over your cheek like you’re nothing but a sweet for him to devour. “Do you remember that, pretty girl?”
You nod jerkily, hips arching up into him when he thrusts into you again. It’s a memory that replays in your mind every so often, your first night with the man you had planned to humiliate over a mere misunderstanding, now your boyfriend of one year. “Want that,” you gasp, tears blurring your vision when he begins picking up the pace. “Wanna be y-your pretty girl forever.”
Jungkook groans, kissing the corner of your mouth. His thighs are some magnificent beings, keeping his pace consistent even as he loses himself in his overwhelming need to kiss you. “Always,” he manages, soft lips pressed against yours. “I won’t ever let you leave.”
A shriek tears itself from your lips as he picks up that harsh piston, releasing your jaw to hold both wrists above your head. It makes his curls dangle in front of his eyes, covering that beautiful dark gaze. It makes his thin little necklace swing back and forth too, though it’s too small to actually touch your face. The rhythmic swing has you hypnotized, just like everything else about Jungkook.
With the length of his hair, you’re left staring at his lips, pulled taut between his pearly white teeth. The word from before sits heavy in your chest, begs to drip from the tip of your tongue. But he’s moving too fast and too hard, scrambling your thoughts until all you can think about is the cock plunging into your heat. His name falls from your mouth like mindless blubber instead, arms thrashing as your second orgasm swallows you up. It sends you crashing, body spasming as the sheer euphoria waves over you slowly and then all at once.
“Perfect,” he grunts, leaning down to slot his mouth against yours, “my perfect girl.” Your cum makes the sound of his hips erotic, the loud squelching following your panting. Still sensitive from your high, your body unconsciously tightens around him, keeps his cock from fully leaving. It brings a soft whine out of Jungkook, one he tries to muffle against the side of your face.
“Inside,” you whimper, even though your body feels like jelly beneath him. “Cum inside, Kook, please,” you beg.
It only takes a few more thrusts into your leaking hole for him to finally reach paradise, hips stuttering when that first shot of pleasure hits him. “Fuck, fuck,” he growls, wildly snapping his hips into your achy cunt. You moan, feeling just about brainless at the overstimulation. His cum leaves you full, almost makes your belly bulge from it. When he’s done he doesn’t bother pulling away, simply slumping into your limp form. His cock, though quickly softening, serves as a plug for the cum threatening to spill out of you.
There’s a muted noise coming from the other room, the faint sound of the mail slipping through your letterbox, the quiet chattering of the street outside. And of course, the loud blaring of your laptop playing the Phineas and Ferb theme song. Jungkook registers it at about the same time as you, a soft chuckle leaving his lips.
He pushes off of you soon after, leaning on his palms over you. He’s got that molten look on his eyes, the heat of a thousand suns burning behind those irises as he looks at you. Like he can’t get enough, even though he’s just about taken everything there is to take. “Love you,” he murmurs quietly.
A drop of sweat rolls over his forehead, clinging to the end of his eyebrow. You reach up and brush it away, let your hand trail down his face to cup his cheek. Immediately he leans into the touch, eyes falling half shut. “Love you more,” you respond.
“Impossible,” he scoffs.
Soon after you’re both stumbling out of bed, clothes haphazardly shrugged back on as you drift through the living room. There’s a thin, hot pink package sitting at the door, just having slipped through the letterbox; the stark Sexuality Unleashed logo is printed on the visible side, so you have to wonder what Doyeon could have possibly ordered this time that could be so thin. The laptop is awkwardly sandwiched next to a throw pillow, barely open a crack. Jungkook retrieves it, sets it on his lap as you scamper over to the couch.
“More Phineas and Ferb?” he asks quietly. He hates it, you know he does. And still, he wants to watch it with you.
You nod. “Please.”
He isn’t so concerned with the plot as you, clicking some random episode to start. You snuggle into his side, quietly singing along to the opening. After a moment, Jungkook speaks again. “Phineas and Flirt?” he offers cheekily.
You roll your eyes. “That might’ve been your worst one yet,” you sigh, trying to drown out his indignant huff by focusing on the screen.
“I don’t exactly see you coming up with these,” he points out, obviously feeling wronged.
Without missing a beat you say, “Disney+ and bust.”
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epilogue
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Copyright © 2020, 1kook on tumblr. absolutely NO reposts allowed.
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raggaraddy · 4 years ago
Text
Sugar Daddy turned sour
Request: Hi!!!! read all of ur works its all amazing cant believe ur new.. can i request for a yan sugar daddy taehyung x reader x yan sugar daddy jungkook. they found out that that y/n have 2 sugar daddies and they lost their sanity(as if they even have that)...Thank u and YOU GOOD,KEEP GOING💜💞💞💞💞😘😁
A/N: I don't know how to post a reply to a personal message yet because I am new and Tumblr deficient 😅 But I hope you like the scenario ^-^ thanks for the request 💜
Here for Part 2
Summary: Juggling two guys and getting everything you want from them has always been easy for you, and Taehyung and Jungkook are no exception. Or so you thought.
Trigger warnings: Mentions of non-con, assault, cheating, violence.
Yandere! Taehyung
Yandere! Jungkook
Sunday.  Taehyungs day.  
You open your webcam, checking your eyeliner quickly in the startup view as you wait for the Tae to pick up on the other side. He pops up quickly a beaming smile filling his face.  
“Y/n! Baby, I’ve missed you.” He’s radiant. As happy and as bubbly he always is. 
You go along listening to him excitedly run through his past few days, telling you everything in excruciating detail as he jumps from one half-finished thought to another. He may be an adult but he certainly has a young soul. The whole while you feign attention, your fingers continually fidgeting with the diamond necklace or the matching bracelet he had sent you a few weeks back.
“How was your weekend?”  He finally gets around to asking. 
“Not so good. I always have to work so much," You complain, batting your eyes at the camera.  
“You could always quit and come live with me.” He jokes-but not really. It’s a topic he has raised 3 times already.  And you have the same answer ready as always. 
“Daddy, you know I’m a strong and independent woman. I could never let someone else pay for me.” You pout, running your tongue over your lower lip while pushing your chest up a little to draw attention.  “It’s just my rent is so expensive. I feel like I work just to pay the bills.” 
In truth, your rent is already being covered by someone else.  But he doesn’t need to know that. 
While you continue to run through the fabricated details of your weekend, Taehyung is distracted, looking down at his phone.  You know what's happening. It’s like a game. And you’re winning. Your banking app sends a notification, letting you know that K. Taehyung has just sent you a payment. 
You open it up. Yep. That's rent for the month.  Or more, money for that new TV you wanted.  
“Oh! Daddy, noo.” You whine down the camera. “You can’t.  I am okay. Really. Please don’t spend your money on me.” You frown if only to stop the smile that is fighting to fill your face. 
“I want to baby. I have the money, and I just want you to be happy. Don’t stress about bills okay. I’m here.” 
Sometimes, it’s almost too easy.  
“Okay Daddy, if you insist.”
Tuesday.  Jungkooks day.  
With Jungkook it’s a much more straightforward transaction.  He has said he wants to pay for you and he hates the back and forth pretences.  He just wants you to say thank you, smile pretty, and give him all your attention.  
“Do you need anything more for the week?” He asks through the camera.
“No Daddy, you take such good care of me. Thank you.” You smile. 
“You still have the weekend of the 14th off?” He raises his eyebrows suggestively.  Off-screen you quickly scan through your calendar.  
14th, 15th and 16th: Jk weekend.  
Hmm, that came up quicker than you expected. You try to keep your booty calls with them as far apart as possible. 
“Of course, I’m so excited! I haven’t seen you in weeks.” You say, it been less than 100% truthful.
“Months.” He corrects with a surreptitious undertone.  
“Where are we staying this time?” 
You always insist to stay in hotels. Because ‘your apartment feels too busy and mundane, and you want the time you spend with him to be magical and undistracted’. Honestly, you just don’t want him, either of them, in your personal space. You purposefully chose boys who live a few hours away.  It’s hard enough to keep them separated in your everyday life with them being far away. It could only get messy for them to know where you live and how to reach you in person.
You’ve certainly gotten smart at this. Arranging the two men into different days of the week, scheduling them into your calendar to keep them apart and unaware of the other. Both had specifically said very early on that they do not want to share you with anyone else.  And that you were all theirs. And while both of them seemed to trust you, you knew their reactions would be unpleasant, to say the least, if they found out about the other. 
Sugar Daddies can be so possessive. 
But while both these men are very handsome, money is better and more reliable than boys. And if they are stupid enough to spend it all on you, why should you care.
The week passes quickly and it’s the 14th.  Once more you find yourself in the lobby of a 5-star hotel. Jungkook arrived in town early and sent you a message with the room number. 
Time to actually work for your money. 
You knock on the door only to find it slightly open.  Entering there is a trail of rose petals lining the floor leading into the suite. All the lights are dimmed with a warmth of candlelight filling the room. This is so typically Jungkook. Pulling out all the stops to try to impress. 
Dropping your bag at the entrance, you close the door behind you and explore inwards.  
“Daddy?” You call out in a singsong voice. Your heels clack on the tiled floor as you round the corner into the living room. Jungkook is sitting on the lounge, one leg crossed over the other, arms rested up over the back. You smile at seeing him. You always seem to forget just how stunning he is in person. 
“Which one of us are you referring to?” A deep voice startles you from behind. You jolt, spinning to see Taehyung standing behind you leaning against the wall.  
Holy fuck. 
Your mind starts to jumble through what is happening. Thinking about what it was that might have given you away. Evaluating how much they may know. And planning your next move.  
Damn it.  You doubt you’ll be able to smooth talk your way out of this with Jungkook. He’s too direct and absolute. So you’ll just have to accept that that relationship is over. However, you might be able to salvage this situation with Taehyung if you play your cards right. Being defensive should do the trick.
“What is this?” You snap, keeping focused on Taehyung. “This is such a violation of my privacy! You keep smothering me Taehyung! See this is why I tried to find someone else to hang out with.” You stomp your foot. He would always wrap around your finger so quickly with the little girl act. 
“Ha!” He blurts out a short laugh in contradiction to how you expected him to react. “Wow. No, go on. I want to see where this is going.” 
“Do you think we only just found out about each other?” Jungkook pipes up, coming from the couch. 
You sigh. You had almost saved enough for a holiday to the Maldives too. But they seem to know too much. Fine. You can burn both relationships. They were starting to get too clingy anyway.  “Whatever.” You roll your eyes. You got all you could from them. Time to move on to the next.
As you shrug them off, Taehyung steps into the path of the front door. 
“Where do you think you’re going?” Both he and Jungkook start to close in tighter. There is a cold tone to his words. Something far too close to a threat for your comfort. Even in heels, both men naturally stand taller than you which usually wouldn’t bother you. But with an unsteadiness to your footing and a very short dress on, in a dark room with two men you have used and spurned, you are feeling even more vulnerable than you feel you should. 
“Move.” You order. 
A smirk on his lips, Taehyung lifts his hand up and backhands you, knocking you back a few stumbled steps. You gasp, your hand clinging to your cheek, eyes wide in shock. He starts forward, Jungkook intervening, standing between the two of you. 
You can not believe he just hit you! He has never done anything like that before.
“No, don’t do that.” He stops Taehyung as he starts to swing again.  Shaking all over, you’re relieved that one of them is seeing sense.  You take the outstretched hand of Jungkook, lip trembling from the burn on your cheek. He draws you closer and you wrap into him for protection. In the same motion, his free hand swings down punching you in the stomach, doubling you over, dropping you to the floor. “If you hit her head, she might get spaced out. I want her to feel this.”
His words send a chill down your spine. This can not be happening.
“Are you crazy!” You gape, trying to speak while gulping down air. Your head is dizzy, your lungs burning.  Kicking off your heels for better movement, you climb back up to your feet not wanting to engage either man. Eyes focused you look past Taehyung to the door, storming forward. “I’m leaving. We’ll forget all of this, okay.” You bargain through short, panicked breath. 
Taehyungs large hand slams you into the wall, pressing his palm against your shoulder. He follows Jungkooks lead, pounding his fist into your gut. And then again. And again.  His hold removes letting you free and you plummet to the ground, crying within broken huffs while cradling your battered torso. 
“You’re right. That is better.” He laughs at Jungkook. 
“Stop!” You beg, unable to raise your voice above a soft yelp. 
“What's wrong baby? You wanted two men. Now you have them.” Taehyungs bright smile returns to his face. This time with an entirely different meaning than it had ever had until it shifts into a straight, harsh look that you have never seen from him. “Didn't you always say you wished there was some way you could repay me?” 
“You said that to me too.” Jungkook joins his side, both hovering above you, trapping you between them, the wall, and the floor. 
Leaning down Jungkooks hand follows you as you squirm away from him. His fingers wrapped around your throat and lift you up, keeping you against the wall. He takes advantage of you being stuck, leaning into you pressing his lips to yours as you resist as much as you can. 
“Baby, you’re going to pay us back for every dollar we spent on you.” He snarls. 
Taehyung turns your face to him, also forcing a kiss on you. “Don’t worry, Y/n, you’ll see that we know how to share.”  
Part 2
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lunaekalenda · 4 years ago
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hi! i have a request about jean and reader that are internet friends who have never seen each other in a real life. they just chat somewhere using nicknames. one day they accidentally meet irl and jean invites reader on a date. later they text each other about this date and both feel jealous. they are just sooo confused, cause they like someone irl, then why they don't want their internet friend to find a s/o? and happy ending, please? i hope that you take good care of yourself, love u <3
omg sure! i just got heavily inspired about this, i hope you like it!! take care of yourself too, anon ! <3
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jean x reader
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jkst is online
jkst is typing...
jkst: hi
Your phone rings at this last notification. You take your phone. The world-wide used avatar chat app sound comes with another message.
jkst: that sounded awkward lol
You unlock your phone and enter the chat, reading the two new messages. You type fast, a smile on your lips.
outofcoolnames: hey, Kir.
He told you his name was Kir. The first day you met, you received a little document with all the chat rules, in where you can't share your name, your city or pictures of you. It has to be safe for everyone. On the other side of the chat, Jean chuckles. He always does when he reads your username.
outofcoolnames: yeah like it sounded as if we were having a normal conversation.
outofcoolnames: what are you doing awake so early? it isn't noon yet lol go back to sleep.
Kir never, never messaged you before noon, and he always tells you he has been sleeping, so finding his message at 10 on the morning while you're working surprised you a lot. Fortunately, there isn't a lot of people on the book shop, so you can answer him calmly.
jkst: oh, you think you're funny? us adults have to wake up early for adult things. you'll never understand, child.
You don't know exactly his age, even when it is legal to share it on the chat, but you know he's on his early twenties. You raise a brow quietly. You tip fast while a couple enters the bookshop, with a little girl on their hands.
outofcoolnames: sure, geezer. now, if you let me, i have to work because i'm an adult.
You put your phone on your pocket, getting closer to the family. "How can I help you?"
The little girl tells you that she wants a "huge, no, enormous book about fairies with some dragons and a huge festival?"
You need almost an hour to let the girl decide between all the books you showed her. She finally decided for a illustrated book full of classic tales. You give it to her mother and, thanking the family, you open the door for them. When you close, looking at all the books you have to put back in the shelves, you hear an unpleasant sound followed by a deep moan. When you look at the crystal door, you can see a tall boy rubbing his forehead, his other hand on the door. You realize you hit him.
“Oh no, sorry, sorry.” you say, opening the door. He takes his honey eyes to you, his forehead a little red and his big hand rubbing the place where he got hurt. “Come in, please.” you say. You think you have a pomade inside.
“Yes, that was what I was trying to do, actually.” he jokes. You blush, you hit him and he’s literally joking about it. 
“Please sit here.” You show him a little sofa you have for kids to read. He’s not sure his knees will enter on the little couch, so he says he doesn’t need to sit. You run to the back of the store, taking a pomade from the bathroom. “Here, put this. It should avoid a bump.” He thanks it and puts a little on his forehead. You look at him while he does it. 
He has to take his light brown fringe out of his face to rub the pomade on his forehead. His hands are big, with bony and really long fingers that end on good-cared nails. His eyes are honey like color, and he has a mullet on the back of his head. He ends applying the pomade and takes his hand back down. He offers you the other.
“Jean Kirstein. Just in case you want to pay me a coffee.” You blush. After all, you hit him. Maybe you should invite him to drink something. Your half morning break starts now, so you take his hand.
“Y/N. And, casually, I have a break now. Where do you want to take a cup?”
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Jean opened the door this time and that made you laugh. He closed behind him and searches a free table with his tall body. He walks towards one.
“Sorry, I opened it, I still have war flashbacks.” You laugh and you both ask for your drinks. “So, Y/N, you should look more at doors.” you laugh.
“I know, I know. My bad, sorry.” you say. He shows a big smile.
He’s attractive, you can’t deny it. From his marked jaw to his smooth clavicle, seen through the open buttons of his shirt. Also, he has a really cute smile. He looks around, to all the people in the café. He smiles at you.
“So, you work on a book shop?”
Jean and you keep talking while you drink your coffees. He tells you he has been working on some art pieces lately. As you could suppose, he’s a painter. 
“I wish I could live just by painting. I work on an office all afternoons.” He says. The smile on his face fades a bit when he talks about the office. You listen to him quietly, his face quietly changing when you ask him more about his paintings. The break passes fast and he decideds to give you his number.
"You know. That way you don't need to hit me on the face with a door." you laugh and blush again. Is he going to forget it?
"Please, don't tell anyone..." you ask. He nods and leaves, a huge smile on his face. You feel butterflies.
Does liking someone feel like this?
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jkst: sorry, i disappeared today. i had a date.
You let the towel fall from your head while you read the message, the other towel around your body.
outofcoolnames: oh wow, a date.
You felt uncomfortable. Kir had a date. But well, you don’t know him. He has to search someone to date, after all.
jkst: jealous? :P
outofcoolnames: nah. i also got one.
Now is Jean the one looking at his phone with frown brows. He has no shirt on and he’s lying on his bed. He sits to read that message twice. You look at the paper with Jean's telephone number. Should you call him today? maybe tomorrow? or maybe send a message to let him know your number.
outofcoolnames: i think that silence means you’re jealous :D
Jean doesn’t know why, but he is. Damn, of course he is. He shouldn’t because you’re just internet friends, you didn’t saw each other. He doesn’t know how you look, what personality you have or if you’re even on the same country as him! 
jkst is typing...
jkst is online
jkst is typing...
jkst is online
jkst - last connection, now
You look at it. Has he just left? The hell? What is wrong with this guy? You let out a sigh and change to the other app. You introduce Jean's number and search him on the list, your lip between your teeth. You find him. His profile picture is a cute selfie of himself and a little cat. You message him.
y/n: hey, i'm y/n. this is my number if you want to adress it.
His answer comes in seconds.
Jean: oh, the door friend. cool, adding you.
That way of jocking, that way of tyiping. Why does it remember you to Kir? You shake your head. It doesn't. It's just that Kir left unexpectedly.
y/n: yeah i'm sorry, i hit you with the door. should we see each other another time?
Jean: sure. why not tomorrow? when's your break?
Wow, tomorrow. The guy is fast as hell. You check the other app, but Kir isn't online. You send him a quick message.
outofcoolnames: hi?
Again, no response, no connection. You go back to the other chat quickly. You answer that your break is tomorrow at 11:30, as it was today.
Jean: i'll make the effort to wake up that early. see you tomorrow.
y/n: bye :D
You go to sleep, but you check the other app a couple times.
On the next street, lying on his bed, Jean checks it too.
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"Good morning, y/n" he says when you enter the café. You search Jean. He's playing with his phone, moving it between his hands. You take a seat in front of him. You put yours on the table, side up. He does the same and you order some coffee. As the other day, you talk casually about a lot of things.
"Jean!" you hear a boy calling him. Jean looks around and finds the owner of the voice. He's a tall man, with a bun. Holding his hand, a black-haired girl smiles at Jean.
"Wow, Eren and Mikasa, the happy married couple!" Jean looks at you. "Could you excuse me for a moment? I promise I'll be back as fast as I can." He winks at you and gets up. You take your phone from near his. You enter the app. Kir has entered before, but he didn't answer you. You sigh and type.
outofcoolnames: look, kir, i... i was joking. i really like this guy and i think he also likes me but... when i'm here... i think about you. it is dumb because i don't know you. but i do. please, come back.
When you hit the send button, Jean's phone illuminates and sounds. The same sound your app has.
Wait a damn minute. Why did his app sound when you sent the message?
It has to be a coincidence. You debate between trying again and leaving it, but one more message isn't going to be a catastrophe. You tip again.
outofcoolnames: kir?
Again, his phone illuminates and sounds. Does that mean he is Kir?
You look behind you. Jean keeps talking with the couple. He said his last name before, it was something with a K, right? K, K, K....
Kirstein. Kirstein, right? He's not called Kir. It is a part of his surname. You enter fast his user. jkst. Jean Kirstein. Jean Fucking Kirstein. You look at him again. That's why his way of texting reminds you of him. That's why you think of Kir when Jean talks. Because it's the same person.
You like Kir. You like Jean. You like the two versions of the same person. Jean comes back quickly and he sits. He takes his phone. "Oh, did it sound?" he asks. But you can only look at him. You look at his hazel eyes. The eyes you wanted to see for so long, the lips you wanted to meet. They are all there. Kir is there.
"Do you use... ChatApp?" you ask, with quite voice. Jean smiles, blushed.
"I... I do.. I've met a person there. We chat often. Their username is really cool."
"The username is literally outofcoolnames." you reply.
"Yeah, but it gives like... What?" he looks at his phone. "Did you read my messages?"
You take your phone from under the table, the chat with jkst opened.
"No. I wrote them."
Jean looks at your phone. That's his ChatApp account. That's your ChatApp account. That is your chat. His head was a mess. He liked two people. But you're both of them? Is this fortune?
"You... You don't know how much I wanted to meet you." he sighs. He admires every single detail of your face. They all are like in your descriptions. He has been so blind.
"I also wanted to meet you. But Jean appeared before Kir. I liked Kir, but I assumed he had his partner, and you looked really interested..." you whisper.
"Do you believe in destiny?" he asks. He takes his phone to the table again. You shake your head. "Then, how do you explain that I fell in love with the same person twice?" he says. "Not once. Twice. With your personality through a screen, and with you all in your book store. This are signals. We belong together." you look at him. That's Jean, but he's also Kir. Your Kir.
The boy that made you feel so much through a simple screen. The one that is smiling at you now. Looking at you with sweet and hazel eyes. He uninstalls the app in front of your asking eyes.
"We don't need this anymore. Now we are face to face. And I hope it is for a long time."
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tobesolonely · 4 years ago
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muse
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A/n: hello everyone!! im very excited to put this out :-) i was going to make a long one shot but ive never written anything multi-part before and i wanted to give it a go!! also my first time with an oc 🌟so i hope everyone enjoys!! not sure when the next part will come out but i wanna upload at least once a week or every two weeks or something idk haha but anywayssss lmk ur thoughts!
biggest, biggest thank u to my love @harryysstyless​ for beta reading and being so encouraging<333 luv u!!
photographer oc x harry styles
please let me know your thoughts on miss aminah, iman, serena, and harry!
my ko-fi! thank you :)
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Los Angeles was your newest muse.
You had always been the spontaneous type. It came as no shock to your family and friends when you told them you had purchased a one-way ticket and were moving across the country. Although your parents weren’t too keen on the idea of their daughter moving so far away from them, they helped you withdraw your savings and find a modest apartment in LA before sending you on your way.
Your reason for moving to LA was simple, really. You were a freelance photographer that felt your career was growing rather… stagnant. You had a thick portfolio and were proud of the work you produced, but your clientele wasn’t as impressive as you’d hope it would be after nearly six years of working at it.
And so began your desire to move from New York to Los Angeles— one big city to the next.
People who knew you often described you as ambitious, fiery, and an absolute go-getter. If your big move scared you in any way, no one knew any better. Your confidence never faltered— not even in the slightest.
After nearly three months of being in LA, you developed a routine of sorts. You’d wake up, eat a breakfast that almost always consisted of avocado toast and coffee, and go on a run. After your run, you would come home, shower, and decide how far you wanted to venture to take pictures that day.
Sometimes your roommates, Serena and Iman, would join you to keep you company. Although you’d never met either one of them before answering their ad for a roommate on Craigslist, you had grown extremely close to the girls in the few months that you’d known them. Despite the two girls being friends since their childhood, they never made you feel left out, and you fit in with them effortlessly.
During your short time in the city, there were so many places you had been, but still, even more you had yet to see. Serena and Iman, both native Angelenos, would often suggest spots for you to check out and even offer to drive you around— you were from New York after all, and at twenty-four years old, you were still not the owner of a driver's license.
“You’ve never been to North Hollywood yet, right Aminah?” Iman questioned as you all lounged around, trying to come up with a place you had not yet been.
“No, I haven’t really gone anywhere farther than walking distance,” you reply, looking around the cramped living room for your camera bag. “Or the places you guys have driven me. That was still considered Downtown though, right? Where we went the other day?” You were still getting used to how absolutely massive Los Angeles was.
“We should go to Santa Monica or something— wait, Malibu!” Serena exclaims. “We have to go to Malibu, Mina. It’s so nice there, you could totally get a bunch of good shots.”
“Yeah, we might even see a celebrity!” Iman chimes in, stifling laughter.
It was an on-going joke between the three of you. When you first moved to LA, you told your roommates that you couldn’t wait to make your way around the city because you were hoping to run into a celebrity. It was Los Angeles after all— you figured they were everywhere.
You quickly learned that wasn’t the case. Celebrities here kept a low-profile and even if you did encounter a celebrity, it’s not like you would approach them. “You’re not funny, Iman,” you tell your roommate with a roll of your eyes.
“Yes I am,” Iman quips, wiggling her eyebrows. “If we’re gonna go to Malibu then I gotta change. Can I borrow a cute shirt from anyone?”
A short twenty minutes later, the three of you were piled in Serena’s car on your way to Malibu. You’d heard of the city before and knew it was a wealthy area, but that’s about it. Your roommates promised you that out of all the beaches in LA, Malibu had the nicest ones, and lots of places to take pictures. Since none of you had anything to do, you all decided it was as good a day as any to have a beach day and get some shots of your roommates to add to your portfolio. Since you didn’t know anyone except Serena and Iman, the pictures on your camera from the last few months consisted entirely of nature and inanimate objects. While it was good practice, you really preferred to photograph actual people.
“Traffic is so bad today,” you say from the backseat after traveling approximately two feet in five minutes. Iman snorts from the passenger side.
“When isn’t traffic bad, Mina,” she turns to look at you, an amused look on her face. “Don’t worry about it. It always gets backed up at this fuckin’ exit and then as soon as we get past it there’s like, zero traffic.”
“Right! I always complain about how shitty this exit is. I have no clue who designed it,” Serena adds, skipping through songs on her playlist. “It’s still early in the day, though. I’m just hoping the beach won’t be too crowded by the time we get there.”
“I don’t care how crowded the beach is. I just don’t want it to take us forty minutes to find parking…”
You tune out your roommate's voices, instead choosing to focus on the traffic jam outside the car. To Serena and Iman, people who were born and raised in Los Angeles, the city wasn’t necessarily anything special. Sure, they loved how there was always something to do, but the bad drivers, traffic, and smog got old. The novelty of LA hadn’t yet worn off to you, though. You didn’t know how your roommates were content to sit inside the apartment all day when there were tons of things to do basically right outside your doorstep. You felt like you were the one convincing them to go out with you half of the time, and you didn’t even know where you were going.
After what feels like almost entirely too long but was really only half an hour, Serena pulls into a fairly empty parking lot. “Are we not allowed to be here?”
“Why do you think that?” Iman asks, squinting her eyes to read a sign. “It doesn’t say it’s closed. I mean, there are a few cars–– look.” She points to a few cars scattered around the parking lot.
“I mean, it is nine in the morning on a Wednesday. People are probably at work,” you tell the two girls in the front seat. “Besides, there’s someone in the parking booth. Can you even close a beach?”
Serena drives forward, rolling down her window. “I mean, I guess not. You can close the parking lot, though.” You hum in agreement. She quickly pays for parking and tosses her receipt on the dashboard before driving slowly through the parking lot.
“I love when no one’s at the beach,” Iman sighs, clapping her hands. “No one will get in the way of your picture-taking either, Meens.”
You smile at the nickname. “Yeah, that’s true. We picked a perfect time to come too, guys. The lighting’s great.”
“Really? Is it gonna make my skin pop?” Iman turns around and sticks her arm out, sensually running her fingers along it.
“You always look good no matter what the lighting’s like, Iman,” you reply, refraining from rolling your eyes at her. “You have the glowiest complexion out of all of us.”
“We’re literally all the same skin-tone, Aminah,” she retorts, crossing her arms.
“We have different undertones, though,” you answer. “So not really. Plus, Serena is way lighter than us! What are you talking about?”
“Should I park here?” Serena asks, interrupting your conversation.
“Why here? All these empty spots and you wanna park directly next to this car?”
“This is a good spot, Iman. It’s a parking lot. If they didn’t want anyone to park next to them, they should’ve taken an Uber and got dropped off.” She turns into the spot, quickly putting the car in park and crossing her arms to prove her point.
You unbuckle your seatbelt, smiling at your friends’ bickering. They were so close they were basically sisters. They argued sometimes and were quick to call the other out on their shit, and you loved it.
“I just think you’re weird for parking next to this car. It’s a nice car.”
“Who cares, girl?” Serena groans, exasperated. “We’re gonna be on the beach. They’ll probably be gone before we will.” She pops the trunk before unplugging her phone from the aux cord and stepping outside. Iman mimics her before flinging the door open as well and stepping out of the car.
You make sure your camera bag is closed all the way before situating it over your shoulder and climbing out of the car as well.
“It’s kinda cold,” Iman says, wrapping her arms around her body. “If I knew it would be so overcast I would’ve bought a jacket.” Serena hums in agreement and you look up at the sky, unphased.
“It’s like, seventy degrees?” you look at the weather app on your phone in confirmation.
“We get it, Meens. You’re from New York,” Serena teases, closing her trunk. She hands you a few towels and a blanket to carry while she rolls the cooler and Iman carries the beach chairs and umbrella.
“It’s a cold seventy degrees and you know it,” Iman defends. “Look at my goosebumps. I can’t fake this shit.” You shake your head at your overly dramatic friends and follow them down to the beach. You take off your sandals as soon as you’re off the pavement, wiggling your toes in the cold sand.
“We can set up pretty much wherever we want,” Serena points out, tucking flyaway curls behind her ears. “Where do you think the best place to be is, Mina? Y’know, so you can get good pictures?”
“It doesn’t really matter, to be honest,” you tell them distractedly, too busy looking around the beach in awe. Your friends were right–– out of all the beaches you’d visited in Los Angeles so far, this one was the nicest (and cleanest). “Maybe we can get a little closer to the water?”
The three of you walk for a couple of minutes before Iman abruptly stops, dramatically dropping everything she was carrying. “Let’s just set up here. There’s no one around anyway, it doesn’t matter.”
“There actually is someone around,” you tell them, looking at a stranger who seemed to be fixated on staring at you and your friends. “Don’t look, but a cute guy is staring at us.” Serena and Iman immediately turn around, shading their eyes from the bit of sun that was starting to peek through the clouds. The guy couldn’t have been more than twenty yards away from where you were setting up.
...“Huh,” Serena says, turning back around. “Is it just me, or does that guy look a lot like Harry Styles?” She looks back over her shoulder again, but he’s no longer staring at the three of you, focusing on what appeared to be a book instead.
“Why would Harry Styles be at the beach by himself at nine in the morning?” Iman asks, unfolding a beach chair and flopping down on it.
“Why wouldn’t he? It’s Malibu, dude,” Serena responds. You could tell your friends were about to start bickering again, so you quickly jump in.
“Doesn’t matter. Neither one of you would go up to him even if it was, so what’s the point in arguing about it?” They both raise their eyebrows at you.
“And you would, Mina? Bullshit!” Iman exclaims, laughing. “I dare you to go see if it’s him, and if it is, ask him if he wants to join us.”
“That’s weird! What if it’s not him?”
“Even if it’s not him, we’ll still get to hang out with a cute boy.” Iman points out. Serena nods in agreement and you can’t deny that she makes a convincing argument. “Just ask him if he wants a mimosa or something!”
“No, don’t ask that,” Serena interjects. “Tell him that you’re a photographer and you’re working on building a new portfolio. Ask him if he would be cool with you photographing him.”
You narrow your eyes at her. “Are you sure that’s not weird, Serena?”
“Aminah, trust me. I wouldn’t deliberately let you make yourself look weird.” Your roommate reassures you.
And so you found yourself clearing the short distance to where the handsome stranger was laid, half hoping it was Harry Styles, half hoping it was not. You couldn’t act like you weren’t a fan of him–– you thought he was incredibly attractive and enjoyed his music just like most people. If Harry Styles was the first celebrity you encountered during your short time in Los Angeles, you‘d never stop talking about it. Ever.
When you’re almost to him he looks up, dog-earring the page he’s on. After making eye contact with him, there’s no mistaking that this is Harry Styles. You pinch the back of your hand, urging yourself not to freak out. He has a knowing look on his face and you’re grateful for your darker complexion that hides your blush.
“Hi,” you speak first, stopping a few feet away from him. “Uh, my friends and I are just uh, we’re... you know.” You internally wince at your inability to form a coherent sentence. His gaze never breaks from yours and you look away first, growing shyer by the second. If you thought he was beautiful on Instagram, he was even more gorgeous in person. It was incredible.
“Hi,” he finally says after a brief moment of silence. “‘M sorry if I was starin’ at you ladies a moment ago. I jus’ usually never see anyone else this early out here. Are you a photographer?”
You almost ask him how he knows when you realize your camera is still hanging around your neck. “Oh, yeah. Yeah, I am.” He’s still staring intently at you.
“Would you like to sit?”
You look over your shoulder at Serena and Iman who were pretending to be preoccupied putting on sunscreen, but you know they were waiting for you to come back with the man you now knew to be Harry Styles.
“Oh, my friends are waiting for me,” Harry looks up at you patiently, waiting for you to continue speaking. “I was actually going to photograph them. I’m working on building up my portfolio. I understand if you can’t for… I dunno, legal reasons? Or if you just don’t want to–– and that’s fine if you don’t, but would it be okay if I photographed you as well?”
“That actually sounds like a lot of fun. It’s kinda boring jus’ readin’ out here on my own,” he agrees quickly, surprising you. Harry stands up and stretches a bit before leaning down to gather up his blanket, towel, water bottle, and book. “What’s your name? I’m Harry.”
You know that Harry knows that you know exactly who he is, but the fact that he introduced himself to you makes him even more endearing. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m Aminah.”
Harry extends his free hand to you. “It’s very nice to meet you, Aminah.” You love the way your name sounds coming out of his mouth.
As you approach Serena and Iman, their eyes go wide when they realize it really was him. Serena nudges Iman and you know without even having heard it that she’s saying, “I told you so!” Harry stops a bit behind you, smiling at them.
“Hello,” he starts. “S’okay if I join you ladies? Aminah here extended such a nice offer that I jus’ couldn’t pass it up, but wanna check with the two of you first.”
Serena’s mouth is shamelessly hanging open, and you realize that she may have been a bigger fan than she let on. Iman answers for them. “Of course! Mina’s building her portfolio and I bet it would look like, super cool, if you were a part of it!” Harry nods, setting the few things he had with him down.
“I don’t think I would even be the center of attention if ‘m sittin’ beside you beautiful ladies. I’ll jus’ act as a prop or something,” he flashes them a dimpled smile. “If you don’t mind me asking, what are your names? I’m Harry.”
“We know,” Iman answers a little too quickly. “I’m Iman and this is Serena.” Serena gives him a timid wave.
“Well, it’s very nice to meet you all. Are you guys from around here?” He lays his blanket beside all of your stuff and sits down cross-legged, not once breaking eye contact with any of you. You had no idea how he did it.
“We live Downtown. We’re only over here so Mina could get some good pictures, she’s a photographer,” Iman answers proudly. “She’s amazing, but she’ll never admit it.”
“Iman…,” you trail off. “Stop, dude.”
“It’s true,” Serena jumps into the conversation, now seemingly over the initial shock of who was sitting barely two feet away from her. “She’s the best photographer I know.” Harry turns to look at you, an amused look on his face.
“That’s a hefty claim. I can’t wait to see your photography skills, Aminah.”
“They’re just hyping me up,” you reply, making a mental note to yell at your friends for embarrassing you once the three of you were alone again. “I’m not that good.”
“That looks pretty professional to me,” Harry says, gesturing to the camera that has not yet left your neck since arriving at the beach. “I bet you’re just as good as they say you are.” You look away, hiding your face. Iman, being the wing woman she is, can tell you’re growing flustered from all the attention and moves the conversation away from you.
“Do any of y’all want a mimosa?” Before anyone can even answer her, she’s popping open the champagne and handing the orange juice to Serena to open. Harry politely declines, as he drove himself to the beach that morning. You and Iman are ultimately the only ones who indulge in a drink since you were the only ones not driving.
Talking to Harry was like catching up with an old friend. He wanted to know everything about the three of you and whenever he felt the conversation was becoming too much about him, he quickly changed the subject. Harry learned that Iman and Serena have been friends since the second grade when Iman pushed some boy off of the monkey bars for teasing Serena. He learned your favorite take-out spots, your favorite bars, and what freeways Iman and Serena tried to avoid at all cost (it was the 405, which he agreed with). What seemed to intrigue Harry the most, though, was him learning that you just moved from New York and had never even been to Los Angeles before moving.
“Why did you pick somewhere all the way across the country that you’d never even vacationed at before?” He had a look of confusion written across his face. You shrug, not really knowing the answer.
“I mean, I’ve seen it on TV shows and in movies. That doesn’t count?” you joke. Harry still looks utterly bewildered.
“I mean… no?”
Serena laughs. “We were just as confused as you were, Harry. We were scared for a moment when she moved in because we were like, oh shit, what if she’s insane? You know? Like, what sane person would move all the way across the country to live somewhere they’d never even vacationed before?”
You let out an offended, “heyyyy”, lightly smacking Serena’s thigh. “I just needed a change and I’m a drastic person! I either go all-in when I do something, or I just don’t do it at all.” You defend yourself.
“I actually think that’s really fuckin’ cool,” Harry says after a moment. “Sometimes I wish I could just… up an’ go. Y’know?” you all nod, and it falls silent again. “Well, should we take some pictures now?”
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Any intimidation you felt to photograph Harry disappeared as soon as he started posing for you.
Being that he was a major celebrity, he was no stranger to posing for a photoshoot. Harry was ethereal–– you knew the pictures of him would most likely require minimal to no editing. Serena and Iman also looked incredible, and you were thankful to have such gorgeous people as your muses. You were taking pictures of them in various places around the beach, only stopping once it started getting too crowded. There were starting to be too many people in the background of your shots and Harry wanted to get going, not particularly in the mood to be recognized. The three of you decide you should get going too. You had more than enough pictures to go through and besides, you were all starting to grow hungry.
Harry follows the three of you to the parking lot, keeping his head down the entire way. The closer you got to Serena’s car, the sadder you got. You didn’t want to stop talking to Harry and photographing him. However, you knew you were just in the right place at the right time, and it was likely that you’d never cross paths with him any time soon–– if ever again.
“Thank you for letting me photograph you,” you tell him sincerely once you were almost to Serena’s car. “That was really kind of you. I can promise you I won’t post them anywhere without your permission or like, disclose the location or anything like that.”
Harry finally looks up, determining you were far enough away from the crowds and he was no longer at risk of getting recognized. “It was my pleasure, really. Thank you for inviting me to hang out with you and your friends. It was a lot of fun getting to know you all.” You feel your body heat up.
“Where did you park?”
“Right there,” Harry points straight ahead. “You?”
You let out a loud laugh, causing Serena and Iman, who was walking slightly ahead of you and Harry, to turn around and look at the two of you. “We parked right next to you! Iman was getting on Serena for parking next to you because the lot was pretty much empty when we got here this morning.”
Harry lets out a breathy chuckle. “I guess it’s fate that we crossed paths then, yeah?” You let out a quiet hum in agreement, stopping a few feet in front of Serena’s car. You hear her and Iman debating on where you should stop for lunch, but you were waiting to see what Harry would say next.
“Aminah? After you get a chance to look at those pictures, do you think you can send them to my manager? His name’s Jeff. I’d love to see how they come out.”
“Oh yeah, of course! Do you have his business card or something?” You were excited that Harry actually cared to see your work but based on the couple of hours you spent interacting with him, you learned he was just an overall insanely kind person.
“I can jus’ put his contact info in your phone? If you don’t mind,” his gaze falters, a sheepish look on his face.
“Totally! Let me just unlock my phone,” you dig in the pocket of your shorts, pulling your phone out and unlocking it with your face. You hand it over to him and while he’s looking down typing you glance over at your roommates who had shocked looks on their faces. You would explain to them later that he wasn’t giving you his number, just his managers, but for now, you’d let them think he was giving his number to you out of all people–– a total stranger.
Harry hands it back to you a few moments later, running his fingers through his hair. “Thank you again for such a great morning, Aminah. I’ll let you get goin’, don’t wanna hold you ladies up any longer,” he waves at Serena and Iman. “It was really nice to meet all of you. Hope to see you all again soon.” You notice that his gaze lingers on you for a moment when he says that, and you feel your body heat up for what must have been at least the tenth time that day.
The three of you watch as Harry unlocks his car and throws his items haphazardly into the passenger side before climbing in, slamming the door shut. His car starts immediately afterwards and he gives you a quick nod before quickly backing out of the spot, leaving. None of you say anything for a bit, just processing what just happened. Serena is the first one to speak, her hand on the handle of her car door.
“Are you fucking kidding me? Harry fucking Styles?” her voice raises at least two octaves and you know she’s about to have a mini freakout. “Did he ask for your number, Meens?”
“No dude, he just gave me his manager's number. He wants to see how the pictures come out after I edit them,” you tell her, opening the backseat of her car. “It’s not a big deal.”
“Uh, that’s definitely a big deal, Aminah. Stop being so humble,” Iman tells you, exaggerated annoyance lacing her voice. “Did you see how he looked at you? When he said, ‘Hope to see you all again soon’?” She puts on a terrible posh accent.
“You’re so annoying,” you groan, shaking out the blanket and beach towels before throwing them onto the seat. “Where are we gonna eat?”
Iman and Serena pile into the car as well, telling you about the three restaurants they were stuck choosing between. You hum distractedly, typing the name ‘Jeff’ into your contacts to see if Harry left a number and an email, or just an email. Your brows furrowed in confusion when you see the name is nowhere to be found in your contact list. You chalk up the mistake to Harry just forgetting to press ‘save’ after creating the contact and figure you can just find his manager’s contact information on the internet somewhere. As you’re scrolling back up through your contact list, your eye lands on a name that makes your breath hitch in your throat.
Harry Styles.
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dreaming-twist · 3 years ago
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2. WEB
Some random oneshot for TwstOBer ~ Enjoy please xD
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“Sebek, you need to find some other hobby. Do you want to try playing with my PC?”
“Human inventions that have nothing to do with magic? Hmpf! Sounds disappointing.”
“Well, well, at least give it a try, okay? It maybe surprises you.”
“... If you say so, Lilia-sama...”
That was how it all began. A simple proposal from Lilia had been his first and until now last contact with that world. And he still didn't know how he had gotten to the point where he was right now.
That day, in Lilia's PC, he found a program on the web that caught his attention. "Pass on your thoughts or knowledge!" It said. Sebek arched an eyebrow, and ended up creating an account outnof curiosuty with the first nickname that came to mind (Best Bolt) until he came across a recording function. Then he realized what this must be.
“I understand. It should be something like a journal, but instead of writing it by hand, you speak directly to it. Interesting invention, not bad for humans...”
And then, after clearing his throat and hitting the 'Record' button, he began to speak.
“... Hello? ... I don't know how this works, but I will try to adapt. This is my first time using one of these... inventions. It's interesting, but... Hm? Wait, why is there a light that is blinking on the side? Okay... I'll try to fix it. I don't know how the recording is turned off...”
Sebek began to investigate what happened to the computer, and in that time he wasn't seeing suddenly the counter of 0 that appeared on the side of the recording screen went up to 1, then to 2, and thus it began to rise. increasingly.
Once he finally fixed it, he returned to his starting position.
“Done. It was not a problem for me. What could I talk about today... Huh?”
As he was thinking, he suddenly saw an alert glow red on the screen, next to a speech bubble. Sebek brought the mouse to it and opened it, finding the words: "You can talk about anything you want."
“I understand. It even gives you suggestions... What a useful program... I'll talk a bit about myself in that case.” Despite this, Sebek decided not to speak the names of anyone he named... for his own sake. He didn't want to be embarrassed later if he listened to his own diary... “Right now I don't live with my family, so to speak. It's not that I get on badly with them at all; I went away to study and to fulfill my duties and my work. So now I'm living somewhere else, surrounded by... ahem, people. However, the ones I am closest to are... the family of a person I have known since childhood.”
He leaned back in the chair.
“One of them treats me almost as if I were his son, and sometimes I think he cares too much about me and pampers me too much. He has taught me so many things, and I feel that every day I learn a little more from him. I respect him a lot... although he sometimes takes advantage of me and plays practical jokes on me. I don't know if he wants me to feel comfortable and enjoy all of this despite being away from my family... or he just wants to play with me. He left me all this... equipment to test it and 'have fun'. Hum. I think once again he was right. His advice is always helpful.”
He made a mental note that he should thank Lilia.
“And then there is... the one who is the only person my age who has always been by my side. He is a very decisive... person, and too calm, I'll say. That is what makes him fail so much in many things. However... he is the person I have been with the most since children, and despite his failures and the fact that we argue so many times... he is very important to me. We do not consider ourselves nor have we called ourselves 'friends' before, rather it is that in addition to being one of the same rank as me, he is my rival and someone I like to continually surpass. I think he may feel the same way.”
For some reason he was saying things that surprised even him. He had never spoken so openly about Silver. How was this happening? Was he so comfortable talking to himself...?
“And there is someone else, who is who I am doing all this for and for whom I strive every day. He is the most incredible being I have ever met. Always correct, with the greatest power I have ever seen, diligent, perfect... It is directly my reason for being, I am SURE of it. I want to become stronger for him and be by his side to serve him whenever he needs me. I'm lucky that someone like him recognized my worth. He is my role model... Although...”
He bit his lip.
“... I think I'm not good enough to help him, protect him, and still be worthy. But I will be. Not because I started showing results later than others am I going to give up. That is something I am not going to do. I want to make the world see that I can become the best in my course... No; the best ever. And prove that he was not wrong with me. It doesn't matter where you come from, whose son you are, or if your power came to light sooner or later... WHAT REALLY MATTERS IS YOUR PASSION, AND STRIVE EVERY DAY TO KEEP WALKING!”
After blurting that out with a big smile and clenched fists, he soon realized that he had lost his composure a bit. He returned to his starting position, clearing his throat.
“... Ahem. For now I feel like I'm on the right track to achieve that goal. The first step is to be the best in my course. Or so I think. The people I... hang out with, from the same course as me are... peculiar. There is one who seems to be pursuing the same goal as me. But he still has a lot left. I notice conviction in his words but I don't see any improvement in his studies. However, he is stronger than I expected at first, and he excels at P.E. There's another... thing who wants to become the best too, but... I'm not even going to talk about him. That one is a lost case. There are two more who instead appear to be quite normal, but one only seems to have an interest in one thing, and the other... honestly, I don't know what to think of him, but he's very strong. And besides the four of them there is a... person who does not seem to want to improve on anything at all. Or rather, he doesn't seem to have an interest in it. But he is not an idiot, rather he seems like one, and I have learned from other sources that when he proposes it to him, he is capable of being the best student in his class. Perhaps he is the most suitable to call him a 'rival' among them. Although as long as he continues to seem so bored of everything that comes his way, there should be no problem... He also shouldn't like me too much. Although he keeps talking to me. He is an interesting guy.”
Sebek then took a breath to talk about the last person he was missing, after talking about Deuce, Grim, Epel, Jack and Ace.
“And lastly there is this… ahem, person, that came along all of a sudden. They doesn't have the capacity to be here, but they somehow got in and we're on the same course. When I learned of their existence, I felt that I had tried very hard to get here, while they had a special ability, although not the one that everyone else possesses, was able to enter without problems. It was unfair. I have ever thought that they were making fun of everyone.” He paused. For some reason, even though he had blurted it out, he didn't feel good about himself... Was that the whole truth...? It was then that he recalled certain moments that he spent with them from then on. “... But they are very clumsy. I feel like I have to be there to hold them if they falls. Studying with them is not unpleasant, they are capable to follow my advice and understand things quickly. I do not dislike those who strive to achieve their goals...”
Another notification appeared on the side of the screen. Sebek stopped speaking, a half smile adorning his face, and looked at the message, taking advantage of the stop in his monologue. Would it be another suggestion from the program...?
“How beautiful is love.”
The boy jumped.
“WHAT?! NO!!” He yelled at the screen, totally flushed. “H-How can a program say these things?! This is a joke?!”
The notifications came out again and Sebek managed to read some.
“Program? What are you talking about man?”
“Hey, there is nothing wrong with you liking someone, I support you!!!”
“Is Story Time over? I was really enjoying listening to you, Best Bolt”
“I have become a fan of yours! Will you talk about more things another day?”
“Your words are very inspiring!♡”
“Best Bolt u r the BEST!”
Sebek began to check the screen, and saw that next to a symbol that represented an eye appeared the number "5000".
5000... eyes?
WERE THERE 5000 PEOPLE LISTENING TO HIM AT THAT TIME ?!
“Hey. Did you listen to Best Bolt the other day on this popular app with podcasts that premier live?” Ace asked, as he ate his burger.
Sebek stopped eating when he heard that.
“No, but I have heard people talk about him to class people. He seemed interesting” Said Epel.
“I had listened to podcasts, but few that talked about personal life... And he spoke so calmly and in such a sincere and focused way... I wish I could do something like that” Deuce commented. Epel smiled at him, he felt the same way.
“I don't know who you're talking about” said Jack confused. (Y/n) and Grim were just like him.
“He cut the recording suddenly the other day, something may have happened to his PC... But hey, if he comes back I'll let you know for sure.”
Sebek ate without saying anything, next to them, who were talking so happily about Best Bolt, until...
“Sebek, youuuu... well, I don't even know why I ask, in Diasomnia you all are very old-fashioned, right? You don't use technology much... except Lilia-senpai.” Ace started to say, looking at him.
Sebek tried to avoid him as best he could.
“HUH?! A-Ah... No, n-no, I don't have interest in that kind of human-made things...”
“Heee... Well, I'll let you know when Best Bolt comes back anyway. Maybe it surprises you.”
“Y-Yes, okay, thank you” He replied, looking away... where he met the watchful gaze of (Y/n), quite close to his face.
“Sebek, are you okay?”
That was the last straw. Sebek quickly rose from his chair.
“PERFECTLY! AND NOW IF YOU ALL EXCUSE ME, I HAVE TO GO SEE HOW THE YOUNG MASTER IS!”
And with that said, the boy ran towards the exit, while everyone else looked at him.
“... Hey now that I think about it, doesn't Best Bolt look a bit like Sebek? That way of speaking, and everything he said...”
“Ha, ha. Good one, Deuce.”
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moldisgoodforyou · 4 years ago
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james and julia
this is for u james anon :) also let’s hope the tags work this time lmao 
___
“What’s up with the boys lately?” Julia asked Sophie after a stall in their conversation over ice cream. The six of them hung out occasionally, mainly when they went out, and Sophie loved the way they all fit together so seamlessly. She easily fit in with the boys and Rafe could hold his own hanging with the girls (probably thanks to his sisters), so it was no surprise that all of them together was always a fun time.
“Hmm. Nothing special, really...oh, James is getting back to dating. I did a complete overhaul of his Tinder the other day.” Sophie told her.
“Back to dating?” Julia cocked her head.
“Yeah, and his girlfriend broke up after three years a few months ago. Something about her not being able to handle long distance anymore, I don’t know. He took it pretty hard. Obviously.”
“Poor guy.” She commented, sitting back in her seat, thinking.
Sophie rolled her eyes. “Yeah, and my idiot boyfriend suggested he needed to get over her by getting laid.”
Julia snorted. “Lovely.”
“Right? Anyways, James went on a date after like a month and I’m pretty sure he came home and was miserable for a straight week, so I’m glad he’s kind of moving on. I don’t think the guys ever really liked her, but you know how stubborn people can be about high school relationships.”
______
After that conversation, Julia swiped through her Tinder that night, more purposeful than ever. It didn’t take long for James’ profile to pop up, and they two matched right away. She sent him a teasing message - funny seeing you here - then immediately cringed at her choice of words. James replied with an equally teasing tone, and the two texted for a while that night - and two nights following.
The group all went out that weekend and there was an awkward tension between Julia and James, but Sophie couldn’t quite place why. Instead of being the class clowns of the group like normal, they were both unusually quiet, not really contributing to conversations. When Sophie leaned over to Rafe, whispering her observation, he furrowed his brow, not having noticed a single thing.
“I’m gonna go get another drink, anyone want something?” Julia asked at the end of the night, raising her empty cup. “Yeah, I’ll come with you.” James stepped up, following her through the crowd to the bar. After they both ordered their drinks, standing shoulder-to-shoulder so they could fit in the tightly packed space, he broke the silence first. “So.”
“So.” Julia echoed, raising her eyebrows.
“Can I take you out?”
“That’s awfully forward of you.” She commented, smirking.
“Sorry, out of practice.” He offered a cheeky grin back. “Dinner tomorrow night? At that Mexican place on ninth, I’ll pick you up.”
“Sophie’s gonna kill me.”
“That’s not an answer.” James nudged her arm with his elbow playfully, sliding cash across the bar to pay for both their drinks. “And Rafe will probably kill me too, but hey, at least we’ll go down together.”
Julia hid her smile in her cup as she took a quick gulp, more for confidence than anything. “Or we could get out of here now. It’d probably take them a while to notice...”  
“Now who’s being forward?” He smirked, then glanced over to where their friends were, blissfully unaware. “We’ll have to -”
“Go out the front, I know. Yours or mine?” She grinned, taking another long drink and willing herself not to shudder at the cheap vodka.
“Mine, I’m closer.” He knocked back the rest of his beer, then offered his hand. “You’re sure?”
“I’m sure.” Julia nodded, accepting his hand. “I still want that date though.”
He laughed as he leaned closer, making her shiver as his lips brushed against her ear. “You got it.”
Meanwhile, Rafe and Sophie were starting to get suspicious. “What do you think they’re so held up for?” She asked, pulling out her phone to text both of them separately. Rafe shrugged. “Friday night, we know it’s always packed here.”
“Ahh.” Sophie nodded in recognition, showing the group her phone with individual texts from each of them with a half-assed reply about meeting someone. Allie grinned. “You think it was that guy on Tinder she keeps texting?”
“Maybe. Wait, is this the first time -?”
“Hell yeah it is.” Rafe grinned, high-fiving Colin and Sophie rolled her eyes. “Well, good for him, I guess. Hope it’s a nice girl.”
_____
The next night, both Julia and James were getting ready for their date at their respective houses. Julia had refused to spill any details, claiming ‘a lady doesn’t kiss and tell’ when Sophie begged for the story. Colin and Rafe had snagged a few cupcakes and spare gel icing from the house chef, eloquently writing Congarts on the Sex - misspelling and all - as a present for James. He had laughed and snapped a photo, but didn’t tell much, just that it was a fun night and she left right after.
“Skirt or the jeans?” Julia held up both options with her turtleneck sweater, glancing in her closet for shoe choices.
“Depends on what sweater you’re going to wear.” Sophie stood and started rifling through her closet, shaking her head as she pushed multiple hangers over.
“What do you mean! This sweater is fine!”  
“Yeah, for church, not a date with someone who’s already seen you naked!” She retorted, pulling out a v-neck sweater instead and a sleek leather skirt. “You want this, with the white boots. Trust me.”
“You’re the worst.” Julia grumbled, but took the clothes and changed anyways. “Should I curl my hair?”
“Hm...no. Not worth the effort. Are you planning on hooking up with this mystery man again tonight, do I have to go to Rafe’s?” Sophie handed her a lipstick to match the outfit.
“Um - uh, probably not -” Julia stuttered, racking her brain for a solution. “You know, when was the last time you two went out?”
“We went out last night.” She raised her eyebrows. “Are you nervous?”
“Going out with all of us doesn’t count. I meant on a date.” Julia took a breath, pleased with her distraction, and smoothed the color over her lips.
“Um...” Sophie trailed off, thinking. “A couple weeks, I guess, I’ve been busy. Where are you going, Rafe and I will go and stake out the date for you.” She grinned. “We’ll be subtle, I promise.”
“You and Rafe have like half an ounce of subtlety between you two, combined.” Julia snorted. “Make him take you to that new restaurant, the one that was in the student paper.”
Sophie thought it over for a moment, her smile faltering. “It’s kind of expensive.”
“Your ability to forget your boyfriend is rich is impressive.”
“Jules.”
“I’m serious! Plus he gets so excited when he can take you out, it’s kind of adorable.” She pressed. “It’s not like you’re doing anything else tonight.”
“Yeah, he kind of does.” Sophie agreed - Rafe loved spoiling her as often as possible, even though she was still getting used to it. “Can I at least get his name?”
Julia had prepared for this question, at least. “It’s Jack, and no, you don’t know him.”
“Ugh, a J name.” Sophie shuddered jokingly, shooting a text to Rafe.
“Yeah, his only downfall.” Julia laughed, albeit a little forced as she thought of the main reason the two of them were probably doomed.
___
Meanwhile, Rafe was hyping James up for his date, blasting rap music way too loud as he ironed his clothes for him. (“Because no one fucking appreciates a well-pressed pant around here,” Rafe had argued, snatching James’ wrinkled clothes out of his hands.) “You kind of did things backward with all this.”
James shrugged. “Guess so. It was her idea.”
“The date or hooking up?”
James grinned as he accepted his freshly ironed shirt from Rafe. “Hooking up.”
“You should be careful though, you know? I mean, you shouldn’t launch into all this so quickly, take it easy.” Rafe told him a little warily, just wanting the best for his friend.
“I know, I know, it’s casual.” James reassured him.
“So...are you gonna need the room? It’s kind of early for dinner.”
“Uh...I mean, I’m not sure...”
Rafe’s face lit up as he received a text from Sophie and he eagerly shot back a reply. “Never mind, looks like I have a date night tonight too. Where are you taking this girl? If you’re going to that new place, I’ll see you there.”
“No, just the Mexican restaurant on ninth. Not pulling out all the stops.” James laughed, shaking his head at Rafe’s sudden mood switch. “Sophie’s got you wrapped around her little finger.”
“I...yeah, probably.” He decided against a rebuttal. “But she’s finally letting me take her out on a nice date, for the first time in ages, so I’ll take it.”
“Didn’t you go to the art museum downtown a couple weeks ago?” James asked, grateful for the conversation topic changing.
“Yeah, and it turned out she had to go for one of her classes and do a few sketches. I swear she can’t go three seconds without being productive.” Rafe shook his head, though he smiled fondly as he talked about her.
“Fucking simp.”
“C’mon, you’re the romantic, you know it’s love.” Rafe grinned and James rolled his eyes as he grabbed his keys and headed out the door. “I’m leaving, have fun.”
“You too! Text me if I have to go to Soph’s!” Rafe called after him.
_____
After Rafe and Sophie’s dinner, Rafe insisted on taking her to a swankier bar downtown by the restaurant instead of their normal college spot. When she paused, calculating in her head and reaching for her phone to check her budget app to see if she could swing expensive cocktails, he grabbed her purse and slung it over his shoulder. “On me, angel.”
“Everything has been on you lately.” She protested, holding her hand out expectantly for her purse.
“Good, so it’s how it should be.” Rafe shot her a grin and took her hand as they walked down the street. “You should have brought the navy purse instead, the black kind of clashes with my outfit.”
Sophie snorted, giving in. “Didn’t think you’d be wearing my accessories tonight, my bad.”
“Ah, but you should never assume.” He pressed a kiss to her temple, glancing in the window as they walked to the door - and did a double-take, spotting James. “Hold on, is that -”
She turned and followed his gaze, seeing Julia opposite James at a dimly-lit back table through the bar. “Holy shit.”
“Do you still want to go in?”
“Yes, we’re going to go interrogate -” She tugged on his hand, pulling him into the bar as Rafe leaned back. “Soph, maybe we shouldn’t -” He hissed, but she ignored him, walking right past the hostess’s stand.
“Ma’am, all our tables are reserved -” The hostess called toward Sophie, but Sophie turned on her heel and shot her a sweet smile. “That’s alright, we’re meeting friends.” She tugged her hand out of Rafe’s and strode over purposefully as he followed quickly behind. Once she made it to their table, she just stopped short of slamming her hands on it, both the drinks rattling a little.
James glanced up with nothing but fear in his eyes. “Oh, Sophie, nice to see you here -”
“What the hell is going on here?” She demanded, shooting glares at both James and Julia. James slunk back a little in his seat, while Julia just winced.
“Actually, yeah, I’d like to know too.” Rafe chimed in, sliding into the booth next to James as Sophie did the same.
“I told you they’re both off limits, James.” Sophie pointed an accusing finger at him. “Did you somehow forget my one rule? Literally just one?”  
“To be fair, you don’t speak for me -” Julia started, only for Sophie to whirl on her. “You! You were being so sneaky when you normally spill every detail - I should not know how big every single dude you’ve hooked up with is -”  
“Wait, you two hooked up? Julia’s the mystery girl?” Rafe made the connection a moment too late, then threw his hands up in exasperation. “Dude!”
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” James apologized quickly. “But if we’re pointing fingers, it was her idea -”  
“James!” Julia sighed, shaking her head. “Oh my god, I knew this wouldn’t work.”
“You said we could keep it a secret!”
“Not from fucking Sherlock over here!” Julia snapped, jamming her thumb toward Sophie.
“Was it worth it?” Rafe interrupted the argument, stepping on Sophie’s toe gently to hopefully put out some of the flames in her eyes. She only kicked him in the shin in response.
Both James and Julia shared a glance, debating their answers. “Honestly?” She asked.
“Yes, honestly.” Rafe nodded, sending a warning look to Sophie to keep her quiet.
James hesitated, not wanting to hurt Julia’s feelings. “I mean, I think you’re really nice -”
“Yeah, and the sex wasn’t bad -”
“Oh my god, please don’t even start there.” Sophie mumbled, her face twisting at the thought of her friends together like that.
“And I think you’re pretty -” James started again.
“But there’s nothing there.” Julia finished for him, offering him a quick smile. “I think we’re perfectly fine as friends, but that’s it.”
James nodded in agreement, relieved she felt the same. “Yeah, exactly. No hard feelings.”
Sophie let out a slow exhale. “Alright. I mean. You’re sure? Because if there’s really something, I can, like, chill out. Probably.”
Rafe smirked. “I’d say your entrance here contradicts that.”
Julia laughed, breaking the tension. “I’m sure. We were just talking about his ex before you interrupted, so I don’t think anything’s going to happen.”
Rafe shoved James’ arm, shaking his head. “That’s the one topic I told you to avoid.”
“We actually were having a decent conversation, if you two don’t mind? The least I can do is get you another drink, Julia.” James laughed, pushing him back aimlessly.
“...Fine.” Sophie stood, shaking her head. “Just as friends, though.”
“Just as friends.” Julia promised, sending her a grateful smile.
As Rafe and Sophie left, he let out a loud laugh as soon as they exited the bar. “Jesus Christ, Sophie. James looked like he was about to piss himself, he was so scared.”
“Good! She’s off limits! I warned him!” She exclaimed.
“I know, it’s like incest.” Rafe shuddered and slung his arm around her shoulders, walking with her to find another bar. “But hey - you think Allie and Colin might be a good match?”
“Rafe Cameron.”
“I’m kidding, I’m kidding!”
taglist: @whoeveniskendall @kkmaybank @karsinner @outerbanksbro @outerbankspreferences @randomficsandshit @sunshineitsfine44 @jailcalledlife @tovvaa @moniamaybank @illbesafeforyou @dontjinx-it @freddymaybank @jjmaybankzz @g4bster @oopsiedoopsie23 
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percyinpanties · 4 years ago
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hey I'm the pipeyna anon and that's ok!!! can u do pipeyna with piper pining after hot jock Reyna which hopefully ends happy (smutty)
just a quick warm-up, i say, i won’t spend too much time on this. i really had to resist just going on and on and on with this. i miss writing this ship, damn.
anyway - this fits really well with an enemy to lovers prompt i have for jercy, so thats what im hinting at too here.
Read on Ao3
for context : i always write college aus from a UK uni perspective bc that’s all i know and i don’t care to adapt to how it might or might not work in the u.s. (sorry)
rating: teen+ (no smut in this one, but let me tell you, this TEMPTED me)
words: 2.2k 
___
“An actual goddess” Piper says wistfully from where she’s leaning against the wall next to Percy, taking back the cigarette she’d just bummed of him. Her eyes are glued on the field, and more precisely on Reyna, smile on her face and water bottle in her hand as she jogs over to Jason standing at the side of the field. They greet each other with a hug, even as Reyna wrinkles her face, seemingly complaining about her own sweatiness.
It’s coincidence that the end of Reyna’s soccer practice collides conveniently with Piper’s and Percy’s late seminar on Mondays. It isn’t coincidence that Percy and her have taken to sharing a cigarette on the side of the building that looks out toward the field during their break, however.
 Percy makes a non-committal noise and his eyes follow Piper’s gaze while she takes a drag of the cigarette and wrinkles her nose. She needs to quit smoking for good, she thinks, and flicks the ash to the ground. There was a brief moment in first year when Piper thought that Percy might be interested in Reyna, or she in him, but luckily, nothing ever came of that.
 “You think they’re dating?” Percy asks, arms crossed over his chest now, making no move to take the cigarette back again. He’s not even pretending not to be staring, his eyes intense where they flit between Reyna and Jason. Piper on the other hand has the common decency to at least cast her eyes away every now and again before she’s caught looking for a little too long.
At the edge of the field, Reyna and Jason are standing close together now, chatting about god knows what, smiling and laughing. They’re certainly comfortable with each other, but Piper can’t say that’s much of an indication given how she’s around Percy.
 “I hope not.” Piper mutters and Percy laughs at that, even though she knows he agrees. Percy wouldn’t admit it in a million years, but Piper would bet real money that he has a thing for Jason, too, as much as he claims to hate the guy. She’d have to be deaf and blind not to notice the tension between them.
It would make sense, though, in a way. Jason is captain of the men’s rugby team, Reyna of the women’s soccer team. Some of their practices collide and the two clubs do most of their weekly socials together, and Piper’s seen the two of them hanging out aside from that plenty as well. Reyna and her haven’t talked much about Jason, maybe because Piper hasn’t actually exchanged more than five words with him and never had much of an urge to change that, but she knows that Reyna and Jason have known each other before university.
Around Jason, Reyna seems to let her guard down, something Piper has only managed to achieve a handful of times since they met during their first year.
 Jason laughs at something Reyna says, eyes bright and head thrown back and Piper can’t deny that he’s handsome, at the very least. He’s fairly decent, too, as far as guys go, and really, Piper knows she shouldn’t be hoping that there is nothing between Reyna and him if that is what would make Reyna happy.
 “Invite her to the party.” Percy suggests then, drawing Piper’s attention back from the tangent her brain was so insistent to start on. When Piper turns her face to look at him, he’s already looking back at her, one eyebrow arched. “I was going to, anyway, but it’s different coming from you yourself.”
 He’s not teasing her, it’s an honest suggestion, and technically not even a bad one. It’s Percy’s birthday this weekend, and if nothing else, it would be a good excuse to hang out again. Percy knows a ton of people, but he usually doesn’t invite too many to his party, so with any luck, it won’t be too crowded to actually spend some time with Reyna.
More than that, though, it’s another opportunity for Piper to finally get a move on. Percy, Piper knows, thinks that Piper’s pining had reached a point where it’s almost comical halfway through last year, but even so, Piper has yet to manage to actually act on her feelings.
A party is casual enough that she can always play it off as nothing serious when it ends up blowing up in her face. Piper might finally get over herself and just ask Reyna out already – although she’s tried that a few times before only to find herself tongue tied and staring at Reyna like she hung the moon in the sky. She’s been head over heels for Reyna since maybe three weeks after they met in first year, and now that they’re starting their third and final year, Piper needs to get a move on or it’ll simply be too late. Granted, she’s scared shitless at the prospect of being turned down, but at this point, even that would be better than pining forever and never finding out if she’d even stand a chance.
 “Yeah… maybe.” Piper says finally, and manages a small smile towards Percy who bumps his shoulder against hers playfully. They should be heading back inside, so Piper sneaks a last glance toward Reyna and this time, finds her looking back.
    They don’t share any classes this year, and Piper doesn’t usually run into Reyna on campus, so on Wednesday morning, she ends up texting Reyna on her way to class. She fumbles with her phone, almost tripping over her own two feet trying to type the words out as fast as possible, and ends up having to sidestep off the path to actually send the texts.
 Hey you.
we’re having a party on Saturday, it’s Percy’s birthday.
 Piper wants to add more, but instead, she bites her lip and stuffs her phone back into the pocket of her jeans. It’s almost an open invitation like this already anyway, and Piper wants to gauge Reyna’s first reaction before deciding exactly how she’s going about asking. Technically, it would be so easy to just as Reyna to go with her, specifically, to the party, but the intention might be lost over text and anyway, wouldn’t it be simpler to just invite her generally?
Piper frets throughout the entirety of her first lecture, and most of the second one, for nothing. Reyna doesn’t answer, even though the messenger app shows Piper that she’s read both texts already, and Piper tries not to be disappointed about it. She doesn’t know what Reyna’s schedule is like today, the girl might just be busy and planned on replying later. It makes sense, much more than Piper’s second thought that Reyna is not answering because Piper is annoying and Reyna doesn’t actually want to spend any time with her. She knows that thought is stupid, knowing that however does nothing to ease the anxious knot in Piper’s stomach.
 Piper finds herself checking her phone more often than not. It would be funny if it wasn’t so ridiculous, and if the lecturer wasn’t so clearly catching on that Piper isn’t paying as much attention to the class as she is to her phone. She texts Percy as well, but she knows he’s in that seminar he shares with Jason, so chances are that she won’t be getting a reply on that end anytime soon either.  In the end, she has to force herself to put her phone away and actually focus on the lecture up front, even though by that point, she is already lost as to what they’re even talking about in the first place. It’s no good, and Piper can’t deny being relieved when the lecturer eventually dismisses the class.
 She doesn’t allow herself to check her messages until she’s across campus in the coffee shop, queuing for some much needed caffeine and fishing out her phone so she doesn’t have to make small talk with anyone while she waits in line. Reyna still hasn’t replied, but at least Percy has messaged her after his seminar.
 I’m gonna strangle him, Piper. You’ll have to bust me out of prison because they are going to arrest me for goddamn murder.
 All she’d asked was if his classes were as boring as hers today, and while she had expected Percy to go off about Jason in reply, this isn’t exactly what she’d thought to be reading today. She smiles at her phone, types out a quick reply and moves up in the queue.
 That bad? What’s he done now?
 The way Percy talks about Jason makes Piper think of a Cartoon Network villain, always plotting, provoking and scheming. The few times she’s spoken to Jason, the guy wasn’t half bad, and if Piper is honest, she doesn’t quite get the vendetta these two have with each other. She suspects though that it has something to do with how ‘infuriatingly attractive, like fucking superman or something’ Percy described Jason after their first class together.
 It’s like he thinks I’m stupid or something. Got a dumb fucking project to do together and he honestly told me that he ‘needs to pass this class so iif I’m not planning to put in the work, we might as well ask for new partners right away’
Like, excuse me, bitch? My grades are better than yours, for one thing
And for another, it’s not like good-old Dodds is gonna let us switch anyway
 Piper huffs audibly while she reads the texts. It’s clear Percy’s actually upset by this, and she figures it will only get worse if they actually have to do the work together in the coming weeks. Before she can shoot Percy a reply though, she’s next in line.
Piper orders her coffee, steps aside to wait once she’s paid, and rereads Percy’s texts before she types her reply to Percy.
 Sounds like a dick move.
 Piper’s almost inclined to defend Jason for a moment, since Percy mostly doesn’t pay much attention in class, especially in Mrs. Dodds seminars – so how is Jason meant to know how much effort Percy puts in outside of it? On the other hand, though, Piper knows how Percy is, and how personally he’s clearly taken Jason’s comment already, so trying to convince him otherwise would simply be fruitless.
Once Piper’s coffee is done, she heads back outside, finding an empty bench to enjoy the break before her next class. If nothing else, at least Percy’s ranting is distracting her from Reyna, and the party, and asking the other girl out – and in between the rapid texts Percy and her are sending back and forth Piper almost forgets about it entirely. Until she has to head back to her last class, that is, and sees that Reyna has, so far, still left her on read.
 Piper hesitates for a moment, clicking on the text field without typing anything just yet. Is she going to come off as desperate if she texts again, or should she just clarify now before it gets too late and Reyna already makes different plans for the weekend?
Piper types out a few words, deletes them again and pockets her phone only to get it back out a few seconds later to try again. She shouldn’t be walking and texting, especially given that she should be going faster to actually make it to her lecture in time, but Piper knows that if she doesn’t send this text now, she’ll spend another lecture agonising over what to say.
 So yeah, I wanted to invite you too ofc :)
 Piper cringes at her wording, but figuring it won’t get much better, she sends the text anyway and finally tucks her phone back into her pocket to actually hurry to class.
   By the time Reyna replies, it’s late and Piper is sitting on the beat-up couch in her shared flat’s living room, watching something trashy on TV without really paying much attention at all. Percy is clanking around in the kitchen, making something that smells good enough to remind Piper that she should probably be getting herself some food, too. She’s about to get up and rummage through her fridge compartment in search of something edible when her lock screen lights up with a message from Reyna, and that derails any thoughts of food immediately. Piper isn’t subtle in the way she practically lunges for her phone, but luckily, Percy can’t see and judge her from his position in the kitchen.
 Sorry, long day, reads the first text, following a few seconds later by another one.
Promised Jason to hang out but I’d love to :(
 Piper bites her lip, knowing before typing out the words that Percy won’t like what she’s doing in the slightest.
 You could bring him? Percy won’t mind.
 Except that Percy most certainly will mind, Piper thinks, and grimaces. If she hadn’t come off as desperate before, she most certainly does now – texting back within less than a minute after having been left on read all day, only to offer that Reyna can bring her friend (boyfriend?) along as well if that means she’ll be there.
There’ll be other opportunities, Piper tells herself, and scrubs a hand over her face. She needs to chill, and maybe she needs to grab a cigarette and step outside and calm down before she embarrasses herself even further.
 Piper stares at the screen. How on earth is she meant to interpret this? At this rate, she won’t make it until Saturday, dying of one crisis or another before then.
 if you’re sure? I’ll ask him.
haven’t seen you in a while, would be nice to hang out again ;)
 I’m sure.
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idkthisisjustforfanfic · 5 years ago
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U N P L A N N E D, part 3
*tw: discussion of abortion*
Glenne answered the door and forced a smile, but you could tell she was barely holding it together. It was Harry’s idea, really, to make her host a casual dinner on Tuesday night--a good reason for us to all be in the same room.
Glenne agreed, only after she got you on FaceTime to give all of the details, word for word, about the conversations you’d had. The only decision you made at this point was that Harry would tag along to the next appointment--you wondered what he’d do in a room with a plastic uterus and a poster of a vagina on the wall.
Los Angeles had a certain spring time glow to it--Lexi drove the two of you up to Jeff and Glenne’s, a side street with lots of homes, ones that certainly cost more than you’d make in 10 years. 
Jeff seemed more than happy to have you all over, he made a quick joke under his breath about your sleeping with his client when he set the bruschetta down on the table. You’d seen him since then, but only once. Apparently it hadn’t been long enough for him to get over the teasing.
Harry’s laugh floated in from the kitchen while you placed the silverware on napkins. A hushed voice, “don’t make a big deal out of it, okay?”
“I’m kidding,” Jeff laughed, his tone apologetic. “He’s a nice guy--you should get to know him.” That’s what he probably thought this was--Glenne’s attempt to play matchmaker for two friends. 
An awkward beat. “Oh whatever, let’s not make it weird.”
He looked through the doorway into the other room, his voice more hushed than before. “He’s definitely into you!” 
You stopped in your tracks, looking up from the table after you adjusted the final place setting. “What do you mean?”
A shrug of his shoulders, he brushed a crumb off the table. “He asked me about you the other day.”
“When?”
“Friday.” 
The day you spoke on the phone. Before he knew--whatever interest he had in you had likely diminished by now. “Said he was glad you finally reached out.” He smirked at you, raised his eyebrows quickly, somehow insinuating that there might be a repeat of the last time you and Harry hung out.
You didn’t have time to ask for more clarification, though, get more details out of him or tell him that the only reason you’d reached out in the first place was to deliver the news. But you were cut short--Glenne stuck her head into the dining room and asked for more help in the kitchen.
Jeff uncorked another bottle of wine at the end of the night, distracted altogether by the story Lexi was telling about her co-star. You picked up the plates in front of Glenne, put them in the dishwasher one by one to help with clean up.
He’s got more self-control than you for sure, Lexi teased when you were out of earshot, tossing a napkin into the trash. He’s waiting until the very end. 
Which he did--it wasn’t until you were all stood around the island in their kitchen, sink filled with dishes and wine glasses nearly empty. Jeff had already made a face in your direction when Harry skipped your glass. Headache, you lied. Been terrible all day. 
He cleared his throat. “Uh, Jeff--listen, you know when we had that party at my house in April? After we finished in the studio?”
His eyes flickered to you quickly, a small smile on his face when he nodded. Glenne stiffened beside him, Lexi watched with careful eyes. 
“And you know what happened between us that night,” he motioned between the two of you with a finger, sounding calmer than you expected, like he’d been practicing in front of a mirror or alone in his car. 
He hadn’t told you how he felt about telling him--you’d only exchanged a few texts between the last time you saw him and tonight. But he seemed fine enough all evening, even now, his voice was steady when he leaned forward on the counter. 
Jeff looked between the two of you, completely lost. He looked over to Glenne before Harry spoke again. 
“Y/N’s pregnant.”
There was still a jump in your pulse, but less this time. Something about the way Harry seemed so calm and collected was contagious. He looked over at you and offered a small smile, maybe one of reassurance or unity. 
Jeff let out a laugh. “Good one, man--you’re a dick.”
Lexi frowned, Glenne reached for Jeff’s arm. 
Harry’s voice was low. “M’not kidding.”
“Come on,” Jeff looked over to Glenne, then to Lexi, then you. “I’m not falling for that.”
“He’s not kidding, babe.”
Now your pule rose substantially. Jeff’s face seemed to shift from one of humor and amusement, more towards anger and concern. “What? You’re not fucking with me?”
“M’not fucking with you.”
You looked over to Lexi, ready to make an exit if needed. You felt suddenly protective, if you were actually growing something inside of you, dealing with the tension in the room surely couldn’t be good for either of you. 
Jeff was quiet for a second, a deep breath, a look around the room. Like he wanted to be anywhere but here and talking about anything but this. You knew the feeling well.
He looked towards you. “How did you find out?”
“I’ve taken four tests. Two on my own, two at the doctors.”
“And it’s real? A doctor said it’s real?”
You nodded.
“And you believe her?”
Silence--everyone but Jeff seemed to stare at the floor.
He asked again. “Do you?”
Harry looked around awkwardly. “Yeah--I do.”
“How do we know she’s not lying? How do we know you’re actually the father?”
“Jeff,” Glenne tried to calm him down, emotion in her voice that let you know his question bothered her. She reached for him again, he pulled his arm out of reach. 
You got red in the face, a heat down your spine when he looked at you, waiting for an answer or a response or some type of defense. “I have the tests that I showed him.”
“I made her take another in front of me. She had all the stuff printed from the doctor. I’m going with her next week.”
Jeff was still, like he hadn’t expected Harry to say all of that. “You knew about this?”
A sigh of relief when his attention was no longer directed at you. Glenne nodded slowly. “Only for a few days--she’s freaked out, too, okay? This isn’t good news for anyone.”
Jeff blew air from between his lips. “I know--I know. I just--this is literally terrible timing with the album coming and--”
Harry shrugged, “forget the album. We can push it back. It doesn’t have to be a summer release.”
“Well it fucking can’t be now if we’re going to be busy dodging pregnancy rumors.”
“What do you mean, dodging?” Your voice was quiet, but when Jeff looked down at you, he softened. 
“We can’t--he can’t just talk about this or run with it. We’ve already seen what happens to someone like him when there’s a baby in the picture.”
You knew what he meant--you’d heard them make jokes before about the others, Harry’s old bandmates who hadn’t been careful and who’d found themselves in the same situation. Your shoulders slumped at the realization that now, you put him there, too. 
“Okay, just stop, alright? You’re not helping,” Harry held a hand up and shook his head. “Clearly this is a big fucking deal and we have to figure shit out, but--I think her and I have a lot to figure out before you do.”
Lexi leaned against the counter, sipped at her wine with wide eyes like she was witnessing a soap opera. 
“He’s right, Jeff,” Glenne finally grabbed his arm now, rubbed at his sleeve, her voice a desperate attempt to soothe him. “They have a lot of talking to do. Don’t get ahead of them.”
More tears burned in your eyes--if anything, at this point, you would have thought that they’d all be gone, dried up. 
“I should go,” you said, turning quickly to reach for your phone and purse on the counter behind you. “I’ll, uh, I’ll just take an Uber, Lexi, no rush.”
“Y/N, wait,” she trailed behind you, following you towards the front door, out onto the steps and down to the walkway. Jeff and Glenne’s house was also immaculate, a gate by the road to keep out unwelcome visitors--a view of the city that sparkled in the night sky. 
“It’s fine, Lexi, I’m fine. I just want to go to bed.”
You heard her shoes click on the pavement. “Stop, dude--just hold on. Everyone is going to need time to process this.”
“I know,” you turned around. “I know they do--but so do I! I’m the one who’s actually pregnant, okay? Not him, not Jeff, not you, not Glenne.”
“I know,” she said, a solemn nod. “You know how Jeff is, alright? He’s just a perfectionist. You should be able to relate, honestly.”
“I don’t want to be shamed or blamed for this--I didn’t fucking mean to get pregnant!”
The door opened again, this time, Harry stood in the shadows, face half illuminated by the light beside the entrance. “Sorry--I, uh, I can go back inside.”
“No,” Lexi said suddenly, waving a hand in your direction before heading towards him. “I’ll go inside. I’ll see you at home,” she spoke over her shoulder to you as she climbed the steps back up to the house. You weren’t sure if she was angry or tired or a mix of the two. 
Harry stepped aside, the door swinging once on it’s hinge before it clicked into place. You pulled out your phone, opened the Uber app, and pressed a button on the inside of the gate to set it into motion. A few steps forward to the curb before you sat, unconcerned about potential grass stains on your new jeans. 
He walked over to you, hands in the pockets of his striped pants. “Sorry about that--about Jeff, I mean.”
You didn’t even look up at him, too busy dragging the location pin to sit on top of their digital driveway. “It’s fine.”
He sat beside you, rested his elbows on his knees. “He’s stressed, which I get, but you are too. It’s not just my life that this changes. I mean--if you keep it.”
You nodded, set your phone down on your lap and then looked over at him. “I know that you don’t know me, but for what it’s worth, I wouldn’t make this up or do this on purpose. I have my own life and career and I’m supposed to be getting a promotion soon--I don’t get anything out of this.”
He let a breath escape his lips, more of a sigh, before he laid back on the grass and closed his eyes. A mumble from between his lips. “I know you wouldn’t.”
Warmth in your chest--unsure of why he was quick to believe you, but grateful he did. 
“Jeff will get over it.”
Silence for a minute as he laid there beside you, eyes closed as if the universe didn’t seem to be crumbling on top of you, perched on a hill somewhere south of Encino. He seemed calm and collected, steady, even, as if he wasn’t terrified. You didn’t know what to say. What do we do? I’m sorry? But sorry for what? You didn’t ask for this or do anything that brought it on, other than a poorly timed one night stand. 
“I can drive you home--you can cancel the Uber.”
You looked over at him, his hands clasped on top of his stomach, a strip of his skin escaping between his shirt and his pants. He opened his eyes, as if he could feel your gaze, sat up and cleared his throat. 
“Yes, I’m sure,” he laughed, answering the question that hadn’t even made it out of your mouth. He stood and offered you a hand up, you wiped at your pants, only spreading the evening droplets of dew on top of the denim. 
When you stood beside him, he hesitated. His right arm lifted, wrapped over your shoulders and pulled you into his side. It was short, he let go of you and moved towards his car silently, clicking a button on the keys that woke it up, headlights on. 
So you sat on top of the nice leather seats, the quiet hum of the radio didn’t feel so awkward this time, like the silence was more comfortable and the tension was lessened. Not as stuffy and intrusive. 
He pulled on and off of the freeway with ease, winding roads away from the hills eventually turned to urban streets and residential neighborhoods, trash bins on the sidewalk, ready for pick up. 
When he slowed in front of your house, one hand on the wheel, he turned to see you. “We can, uh, take some time, I guess--to decide what we want to do. Hear from your doctor this week.”
You knew what he meant--no need for harsh terms or specific language. You nodded.
“I mean--what you want to do. S’up to you, really.”
You bit at your lip, unsure of how to reply. “You get a say, too.”
His face softened at that, he pulled his forefinger up to rub at his lips. “Okay.”
“I’ll talk to you soon?”
“Yeah,” he nodded, angling himself towards you. “Maybe, uh, we could do dinner some night this week. After the appointment?”
“Sure, yeah.”
“Alright, I’ll talk to you then. I’ll text you before.”
“Okay.”
“Goodnight, Y/N.”
“Thanks for the ride.”
“Course,” he said. “Any time.”
**
Glenne seemed to keep her distance, nothing but a text from her that night, a red heart emoji--as if it would undo the frustration in Jeff’s voice or the look on his face. 
And you got it--you understood that for Jeff, this was a business nightmare. His top client now listed in a category with many others, one that begged for headlines and sorry sideways glances. 
Which was why you tried to give him an out the night before. A text excusing him from the appointment, if he wanted. You don’t have to come, I understand if you’re too busy. 
Lexi was busy on set for a few days straight, early mornings and late nights left you spending more time alone in your apartment than you were used to. You caught up with your mom on FaceTime the night before the appointment. 
“We’ll see if he shows up,” you said, phone propped up on the table when you blew on a forkful of spaghetti. “He’s not a jerk, I don’t think, but--I don’t know. If I were him I would have run for the hills by now, probably.”
She was in the middle of going through her mail, flipping through envelopes and peeling them open. “Oh sweetie, don’t say that. It’s good--he’s been pretty supportive so far.”
“I know, but I don’t know him. I mean--this is like a lifetime movie, right? I’m a random person who happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
She slowed at that, looking at you through the phone, a sigh before she spoke. “You seem to have made your peace with it, a bit.”
You shrugged, another bite of dinner. “I think it’s denial.”
She laughed a little. “Me too. Can I come this weekend?”
“Down here?”
She nodded, a new envelope in her hand as she used her finger to tear it open. 
“If you want--we can just do brunch or something. Lexi may or may not be around.”
“Well, I was thinking maybe I could meet him.”
You almost dropped your fork. “No--no way, not yet. I don’t even know what we’re gonna do.”
“I know,” she said, her voice steady. “There’s no way you could place it with a family, right? Give it up for adoption?”
That language felt harsh, give up. Glenne had already ruled that out the night you told her. 
They’d never let you, she said. At first, you thought it sounded like a happy medium. You can’t just give up a celebrity’s baby for adoption, that’d be too dangerous and cause too much of a scene. 
You wished she had said you couldn’t give up your baby for adoption--as if she’d forgotten that it was yours, too.
“No, Glenne said something about how his team would never go for that. Which makes sense--I guess, you know, crazy people would try to adopt it.” 
She nodded. “So--it’s really just the two options then,” a pause, “keep it, or don’t.”
“Yeah--just one or the other.”
“Look, you have to make whatever decision is right for you--but, I don’t know, I just thought it might be nice to meet him.”
You thought on it for a second, another bite of spaghetti when she disappeared out of the frame for a second. Your mother meeting Harry wasn’t something you’d ever thought about--too soon and too new. 
At some point, if it was necessary, maybe. But that was down the road, right? Not this weekend and not right after he sees the plastic uterus in Dr. Weston’s office. That all felt too real and too rushed. 
She appeared back in front of the camera, a smile on her face. “Just think about it, okay?”
“Alright--I’ll think,” you said it mostly to appease her, to calm her nerves and to assure her that you were alright, hanging in there and holding on. She was worried--and she wasn’t afraid to say it. She’d already called you every day since you told her, asking how you were feeling, when you’d tell him, how it was all going.
“Don’t give him a pass just because of who he is, honey, okay? Fame or not he’s involved in this now, too.”
“I know,” you rolled your eyes, tried not to whine too much when she gave you a look. “I know, mom--I get it.”
She let it go then, asking about work and catching you up on her own life. She told you about the renovation they were doing in her office, the neighborhood book club she joined. When you hung up and said goodnight, a text was waiting for you. One that you hadn’t even seen come through. 
310-324-9090 (8:29pm): I’ll be there--4pm, right? Text me the address.
Sure enough, he was in the waiting room before you were. A hat on his head and a jacket over his shoulders, he straightened up when you came through the door. 
“Hi,” his voice was quiet when you sat down next to him. He looked around the room to make sure no one was looking in your direction. “We just wait here, right?”
“Yes,” you giggled, somewhat touched by his uncertainty. “They’ll call me in eventually.”
“I thought I was coming in, too.”
You turned to face him. “You can, but they’ll call my name, since I’m the one who’s actually pregnant.”
“Right,” he said, shrinking into the chair. He thumbed through a magazine, one that had a picture of a smiling baby on the front--a diaper and big, blue eyes. You wondered--if you kept it--who it would look more like. 
The same nurse called your name, this time, a smile on her face when there was a male counterpart by your side. You ignored the shift in her tone, chalked it up to ignorant, but well-intentioned sexism, and followed her into a different exam room. 
Bigger, this time. Another poster of female genitalia on the wall--this one was bigger, darker shades of red and pink. Harry sat in the seat and watched as the nurse took your blood pressure, temperature, and offered you a glass of water. 
He perked up at that, magazine still in his hand, he’d taken it from the waiting room as a souvenir. “M’a bit thirsty--could I have one?”
She looked at him, still now, a look of realization crossed over her face when she seemed to place his face, or maybe his voice. She nodded, disappeared out into the hallway and shut the door behind her. 
“We have to have them sign something,” he mumbled, opening the magazine again with a shake of his head. “All these doctors offices talk about confidentiality and what not, but, dunno--I can have my lawyer draft something up.”
“What do you mean?”
He kept his gaze on the page he held between his thumb and forefinger. “They could tell someone, Y/N--that I’m here and that you’re pregnant.”
You tilted your head, adjusted on top of the wax paper. “You don’t expect this to be a secret forever, do you?”
He pushed his lips out, looked up at you. “It depends on what we decide.”
Interrupted, his words clipped when Dr. Weston knocked on the door and stepped inside. She offered a hand in Harry’s direction, either unaware of who he was or simply unphased by his presence. Either way, she sat on the rolling stool and looked up at you. 
“Well--now that we know for sure that you are, in fact, pregnant, I’m happy to talk you through some of the options, if you are interested in termination.”
You nodded, not necessarily as an agreement that you were interested, but you figured it didn’t hurt to hear her out. 
“There are a few different ways to do so, and luckily you’re early enough that you have some of the better options still available.” She pulled a pamphlet off of the counter, one that you hadn’t noticed until now. It had a picture of a flowery field on the front, a sunny day somewhere with blue skies, with the words Abortion by Trimester, in bold lettering on the front. 
Harry leaned forward, his eyes scanning the pamphlet before sneaking a glance in your direction--you felt his gaze when Dr. Weston handed it over.
“There’s medication you could take at this point--it would entail some heavy bleeding as you pass the pregnancy, a few days of that tops. That’s the safest option for where you’re at right now, you’d have up until the ten week mark to choose that option. Anything after that would be a bit more involved, but still extremely safe.”
You nodded. “We don’t--uh--we don’t know yet. We haven’t decided, honestly.”
“Alright,” she said. “Take your time, I’m happy to work with you no matter what you decide.”
“Is there anything I should be doing right now? I haven’t been drinking, I don’t smoke, so--”
She stood from her stool and grabbed another pamphlet, the same one, offered it to Harry. He flipped it over in his hands, inspecting the front and back when she continued. 
“Just the same, healthy eating, enough rest. If you do decide to keep it, we recommend prenatal vitamins, the Complete Health brand is a good one, you can get it at Target or CVS. But--again, you have time to figure it all out. It’s just good to know all the options.”
“Right,” you said. “Thank you.”
“You’ll need to come back in a few weeks, if you decide to keep it. We’ll do a six week ultrasound. If you decide otherwise, though, you can call and make an appointment to come in for the prescription.”
Harry shifted in his seat, ran a hand through his hair and shook Dr. Weston’s hand when she said goodbye. The door shut behind her, he let a breath out as if he’d been holding one, turning to look at you once you were alone. 
The options felt overwhelming--like suddenly now there was a weight on your shoulders no matter what you chose. Harry’s brow furrowed when you wiped at your eyes. 
“Sorry,” you mumbled. “It’s just hard--I don’t know what to do.”
He was quiet, stood in the center of the room like he had no clue how to respond. He reached a hand forward and took yours in it, “s’alright--we can think on it all.”
You nodded, letting go of his hand quickly when he pulled it away. He offered you the jacket you’d worn, picked up your purse off the chair beside him. 
“Need another ice cream?”
“No,” you laughed. “I need a real meal.”
“We can definitely make that happen.”
So you drove with the windows down--once again leaving your car behind so you could ride together--and luckily, the drive through line at In-N-Out wasn’t too bad. A quick smile for a picture with the cashier, he handed over his credit card, pushing yours out of the way. 
“I’ve got it,” he used his elbow to nudge your hand. 
“Let me venmo you for mine, then,” you pulled out your phone, quick to pull up the app. 
“Y/N, leave it. S’fine.”
You watched as he took the receipt, thanked the person behind the window before they handed over the bag of food. It felt like a thin line, letting him pay for things or insinuating, somehow, that you were now a financial responsibility of his. You worked too hard, had a good job--you’d been raised by a woman who didn’t take handouts from anyone. You would have sooner paid for both of your meals than let him feel so obligated. 
But you were too hungry to put up a fight, you took the burger he handed you and lifted your sunglasses once he parked on the far end of the lot, tinted windows allowing privacy. 
“I know I’m only a month along, but this might be my first real craving.”
“Yeah?” He smirked over at you, watched as you took a bite. “We can keep ‘em coming.”
He pressed a button, lessening the blow of the air conditioning. Took a sip of the soda he had ordered, set it back in the cup holder between you. “That was weird, huh?”
You spoke through a full mouth, “wha’ was?”
“The options--the pamphlet, and--I don’t know. I’d never thought much about how they do it. Kind of thought it was more involved than that.”
You almost told him it wasn't a good mealtime conversation, he kept going before you could redirect. “But I dunno, hearing her talk about it made me think more about it.”
You let out a breath--sure that the inevitable was coming. Of course he’d want you to get rid of it--how could he opt for anything else when something like this had massive implications? 
How could he go on tour, do interviews or red carpets with partial custody? Were you meant to trail along behind him now, a glorified nanny to your first born so he could continue living the same life? But it was simple: he couldn’t. Too much would change and you guessed he didn’t even like the thought of it. So of course, you nodded and looked over at him, waiting to hear him ask you to terminate. 
“I don’t know--I think you should keep it.”
You swallowed. “What?”
He turned, looked at you with concern in his eyes. “You don’t?”
“No--I--I don’t know, I just didn’t expect you to say that.”
“Why?”
“Doesn’t this,” you shrugged, letting the burger fall onto the wrapping paper it’d come in, “ruin your life?” 
He looked at you in the eyes, held your gaze for a moment before looking down at his hands. He seemed to be actually thinking it through, weighing the pros and cons. He looked back up at you, a small shrug. “No.”
You didn’t believe him. You broke his gaze and reached for your own soda, taking a pull from the straw just so you wouldn’t have to reply. 
“It’s inconvenient, sure--but, it doesn’t ruin my life. You’re not ruining my life.”
Emotion in your eyes at that--you wiped at the tears quickly to hide any evidence. It was all too common now, the quick spurts of anxiety and the shaky breathing that accompanied them. He reached for his own drink, now, held it to his lips in silence. 
“If you want to end it, you can. I’m not the one who has to, you know, do all the work.”
You stifled a laugh, wiped at your cheeks before he handed you a napkin. 
“I don’t want to.”
“End it?”
You nodded. “I made the mistake of getting a tracking app,” you forced the words out even though the tears picked back up. “And today--it said--it’s the size--of an apple seed!”
He let out a laugh, twisting towards you and leaning over. A hand on your thigh quickly, he pulled away before you looked up at him. He bit his lip, like he was trying to think of something to say. 
You spoke first. “You really don’t think this is a life ruining catastrophe?”
“That’s a bit harsh,” he shrugged. “An unplanned, accidental...adventure--feels a bit more accurate.”
table of contents | talk to me + join the tag list
author’s note: hope you’re all taking good care of yourselves in this terrifying time!!! Be good and stay inside and read more fic and support more creators on the internet!!
tag list: @stepping-into-the-light @thurhomish @afterstylesmadeit @iconicharry @stylesfics-xx @harryspirate @mellamolayla @harryinsweatersandbandanas @stylesfantasy @clorenafila @mell-love @anssu-amry @yelllowgrass @bullseyeskay @littlesoldierelleora @styles217 @rachkon @c-h-e-r-r-y-y @myhat  @rosegoldbel @passionate-dreamerr @grammyforstyles @dontgiveupthedayjob @ursamajor603 @craic-head-horan @heavenspidey @talk-british-2-me-britbritharry @blackxxmagicc @winter-soldier-007 @ssllbb @wanderlustiing @jdcharliewhiskey  @caritocp @kaybee87 @wildbeee @hsunflowervol
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overly-b · 5 years ago
Text
Love Letters to Jade
This has been in the works for a while now, but Jade is back on tumblr so I thought there’s no better time to post this!!
Hi Jade, Bri here. Lex @marvelrose01 and I wanted to do this for you to show you how loved and appreciated you are by your friend on tumblr. We know that you’ve been going through a hard time, and we wanted to prove just how special and fantastic you are. These are for you to have, to read whenever you want, and for you to remember when you’re feeling low.
Thank you to all of those who sent in their letters! You guys truly made this special!
If you are a friend of Jades and wish to add on, please reblog this with your letter and tag it “love letters to jade”
Without further adieu, here are our love letters to Jade
@midnightmagicmusings @midnightmagicmusingsmain I love you!
Dear Jade,
hiii bb!! just wanted to let you know how spectacular you are! you’ve got so much sunshine in you (literally) and it shines so bright everyday! you’re one of the sweetest, strongest people i have ever encountered and i’m so thankful to call you my friend! i love when you send me jj concepts that always make me soft 🥺🥺 and i love your positive energy! i love that you connect me and my acc with palm trees and i hope it stays that way forever!! you’re a QUEEN don’t let anyone ever tell you otherwise!! 💗👑
Love Abby @softstarkey
Tumblr media
Dear Jade,
You have no idea how much I love an appreciate you. You became friends with me when a lot of people weren’t anymore. I know you don’t really know about that but I had lost a lot of friends before you started talking to me. I was getting pretty sad and I started watching obx. After that, I joined the fandom and you were my first friend. When we got to talking we had so much in common and I was so glad to have met you. You helped me through more than you realize and I’m so happy to call you my friend. You’re by far the sweetest, most kind person I have ever met. You’re like a big sister to me and I’ve never had someone like they before so I’m very gratful. I love and appreciate you so much, remember that.
Brie <3
Dear Jade,
You are one of my closest friends on here and I am so happy I bet you!!! I cant believe how easily we fell into a friendship once I dropped into your messages randomly. You were so chill and rolled with it and we just talked about concepts. I loved that night so much and I cant believe I didn’t know you sooner. You are so so sweet to me, a better friend than I deserve. And as you know, I am always here for you, but your always there for me too. Asking about my day and begin interested in what I have to say. You are amazing and I love you to death. Your writing is amazing, and you mean so much to me babes.
Love, Maggie
Dear Jade!!!
you’re one of the bestest people i’ve ever met and i always want to help you and protect you and when i hear you’re having a bad day i go into attack mode because you should never have to have a bad day. you deserve all the good days in the world and i think you deserve more than that even, only the best, because you’re such an amazing friend even if i dont interact with you too much, and thank u for staying my friend cause i know that i dont message or tag you lots but you still are so happy to interact when i do and sometimes you tag me in things and i think thats so amazing and i love iti’ve said it before and i’ll say it again, i dont care what i have to do for you, i’ll do it in a heartbeat with no questions if it means helping you out of a tough situation or protecting you from a meaniehead. you deal with so much everyday and i’m so proud of you for getting up the next day again and again and still continuing to stay positive and post no matter how many mean anons say you shouldn’t, and im proud that i can say you’re my friend and it makes me happy every-time i see an ask from you in my inbox
you’re the best, jade, and you’re dandy and nice and caring!
and in the spirit of the “Jade, you’re cancelled” anon:
Jade, you’re Squid-approved
and i love u🥺💕
-from squiddy”
Dear Jade,
Hello beautiful how are you? I love your work and just some of your post. I know we aren’t close but if you ever need someone to talk to I’m your girl I promise I’m not a middle aged man who got out of a divorce and living in his ex wife’s basement. Now I have t been following you for very long but I have stalked you a few times and you seem amazing just some people are dickheads and don’t know how to be nice but send them my way I’ll hurt em good. I can’t wait for the Swim School series with JJ it’s gonna be great.
Love, Kelsey aka @k-k0129
hi jade!! it’s me amy(kissessforharryyy)
and i just wanted to let you know how important you mean to me and many people on this app. i love you very much!! i’m so happy we became mutals on your main account!! if you ever wanna talk about anything and i mean anything we can!! i love you very much and i hope you have a great day everyday💝💖💗💘💓💞
@verified-dumbass
Jade,
you are the sweetest person I've ever known. I know the times we interact are few, but everytime we talk you manage to uplift my mood simply by being so genuinely nice. The positivity you radiate is immeasurable and I know it sources from your kind soul. Even though the world has shown you hardships and you've gone through so many challenges- more then I can imagine- you never have taken out your emotions through hate and I have such admiration for you for that. You are so beautiful, (both inside and out,) you are so strong, and you are so loved. Never forget how much you mean to the world. ❤
Hey Jade,
so I know the past few months have been hard on you and I just wanted to let you know how loved and appreciated you are. You're one of the best friends a person could ask for and I'm overjoyed that I was one of the lucky persons who had the chance to meet you. I hope you enjoy the rest of the summer and know that our conversations are one of the things I will miss the most at basic. I love you bunches babe 💜@marvelrose01
Dear Jade, 
How insane is it that something as simple as a show can bring two people like us together. Two people who live so far away from each other, and who would have never known each other other wise if it wasn’t for their crazy stupid love for a show and their tumblr blogs. We became friends over a comment about being short, and a second comment about being hard of hearing. I have never been so thankful for a dumb app because that dumb app lead me to you. The friendship and love that you and I have developed in the past two months is truly one and a million and I am consistently amazed by your strength and will. We talk every single day and I wouldn’t change a single thing!! I’ve been with you through some good times and some bad times, and honestly all I can say is that shit gets better, it truly does. Sometimes it has to get worse first, which sucks, but it always always always will get better, and you always have a friend in me. I love you, I appreciate you, I value you and what you have to say, I am thankful for you, and I am lucky to know you and have you be my friend. From Bri+JSquared, to the serious life conversations that we have and the struggles we go through, I wouldn’t give it up for a single thing. I love you to the ends of the earth Jady Baby.
Bri, @overly-b
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be-ready-when-i-say-go · 5 years ago
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idk if ur still doing song prompts but i was listening to in my head by maisie peters n thought of how ur writing would fit so well with it! so maybe that with cal? also, ur writing is fucking beautiful, thank u for sharing ur works with us! i’ll be sure to support ur works! ☺️🖤
First off, many thanks for such kind words! I greatly appreciate them. Thanks for the song suggestion as well!
Anyone can support me on Ko-fi! It helps me continue to provide this content and save for graduate school expenses. 
Song blurb requests are now closed. Thanks for all the love! 
__________________________________________
A Losing Game
Oh, it’s so stupid. 
You know that from the second you pick out the pink dress from your closet. He’s going to be there though. After how careless he was, you are going to make him pay for it. Calum is going to have to pay for the way he treated your heart. 
The thing is you guys weren’t together when it happened. You know that. You didn’t need anyone else to point that out to you. But still, how could he just be so reckless? How could he kiss you like that? How could he hold you so gently and then turn around and choose someone else? 
If that’s the bed he wanted to lay in, you were for damn sure going to make it a bed of thorns for him. Slipping into the dress and spraying your perfume, you glanced over yourself in your mirror. Was this petty? Of course. Was this overkill? Of course. Was that going to stop you? Never. No, Calum was going to have to drool over you. You are going to hurt him just like he hurt you. 
When Calum knocks on the door to the house and ducks inside, he looks around for you. He thinks he might be able to snag a moment to talk to you. When you’re not in the living room or in the kitchen of the house party, he thinks his time to apologize is over. He was an idiot. He is the first person to admit that. He’d admit it in the blink of an eye that he was stupid to have you literally in the palms of his hands and then on the same night, take someone else home with him. He made it so obvious too. He had waited for you to look up, to try and get one last word in with him before pulling her onto his lap. Then soon after out of the club to the waiting car. 
Fear is a bastard of an emotion; that’s what Calum had come to learn. He was terrified of actually liking you, of actually making that a real thing. 
As the night starts to settle in, he keeps half an eye out for you. It’s not until he turns into the kitchen for the second time in the night to get a refill, he finds you in the pink dress. God, his heart races. It was always a gorgeous color on you. He could paint you in a portrait of the color. 
You watch as Calum steps into the kitchen and turn to Luke, laughing at whatever was just said. You’re not halfway paying attention to whatever the group is going on about. Maybe you even go as far as to raise a hand to Luke’s chest and let it slide down to his forearm. Luke is oblivious you know and won’t take it strangely. All you need is for Calum to see it. All you need is for him to get just a taste of what it feels like to be the second choice. 
Calum steps closer, going for the cooler on the floor. You’re too busy with your head practically falling into Luke’s chest to see the flair of his nostrils and the clenched jaw. You do hear the harsh slam of the cooler’s top back to keep the coolness in. 
The whole night went like this. You finding every opportunity to blow Calum off and Calum only wanted to get five minutes with you. It’s soon you holding onto Michael during beer pong. Then it’s you cuddled up with Ashton laughing during a game of flip cup. It’s at every turn that Calum keeps hitting that wall of you always with someone, always buddied up and he’s fed up. He’s absolutely fed the fuck up. If that’s the game, he can play it too. Especially with a couple vodka shots in him. 
Part of you feels like the point’s been made. You noticed Calum’s particular sour pout after you paired with Michael during the game of beer pong but the hurt, the pain all kept fueling you to add more oxygen to keep the fire burning. The party’s still in a good swing, but you do have an early morning. You should be able to stick it out for another hour or two.
Your head is floating. The alcohol has caught up and now your bladder is pressing against every other organ. Waiting outside the bathroom, you drop your head into the wall, arms wrapping around your waist. You know you shouldn’t pee now. If you do you’ll have to pee another four times before you leave. 
There’s a soft moan followed by the smack of kissing. You figure it’s probably no one you really know and let the couple go on. All you need is for the person in the bathroom to finish before you witness a heavy petting. Another moan tickles your ear, deeper this time and something goes off in your head. You know that moan, only briefly though. Lazily turning your head, keeping it against the wall, you spot Calum. His mouth sealed around some other girl and his hands kneading at her waist. 
There’s a gasp, you’re not sure if it’s yours and the girls. 
Then it just hurts. All of this game playing and for what? All you wanted was for Calum to choose you and it seemed more than stupid now to have tried to keep pressing all his buttons. All you did was just make it easier for him to fall back into someone’s else arms. 
You try not to brush into Calum in your hurried passing. You suppress the urge to dig your nails into his lower back, just like you know he likes it. One hand covering your mouth, you see the tears watering your vision. Just keep the sob down, that’s all you have to do. Just keep from sobbing right here in front of him about him. 
Then it happens, in the rush to get around and dodge the incoming people, you feel the soft brush of his leather jacket over your arm. “S-sorry,” you barely get out, covering your mouth again. 
It’s cold as you step out, purse barely on your shoulder. “That was so stupid,” you reprimand to yourself. Your eyes can barely focus on the screen as you try to tap onto the black icon of the app. 
“Look what happened,” you cry into the sky. “I’m such a fucking idiot. And a broken-hearted one at that.”
“That’s hell a combo.” The voice is a little rough but you know the shakes to the deep timbre. 
“Fuck off, Cal.”
“Surprise you still remember my name.”
You keep staring at the street, keep waiting for the driver to magically appear even though it’s going to be another seven minutes. Your face is tight from the tears starting to dry but there are more threatening to fall. “I’m not in the mood for this shit.”
“You seemed to be in a really good mood earlier.” You know what the remark is referring to; you deserve it. That doesn’t mean that it hurts any less of course. 
“Don’t you have some other girl’s face to suck? Just leave me alone, please?”
Not his smoothest plan, he’ll admit. He exhales, glancing down to the screen of your phone. Five minutes. “Let me catch a ride with you. So we can talk.”
You’re intrigued. But is it even worth it? Is it worth this stupid fucking game you keep playing with him where the only thing you’ve ever won is pain? “You really don’t know how to take no for answer, do you?”
Calum can hear the shakes in your voice. Clearly, you’re not in the mood to talk. He’s not going to risk seeming like an asshole even if in some twisted way he means it well. “Alright, alright, fine.” 
He throws his hands up and starts back up the hill of the driveway to the house. But he lingers, watching as you step into the back of the car and waits until it pulls off. He pulls out his phone. At least let me know when you get home so I know you’re safe. 
You see as the message comes in, reading it quickly. God, why did he have to be such a mixed signal? Why did he have to care even an ounce about you? Your head finds its way into your hands and you’re sniffling hard. God, the snot it running. The driver probably thinks you’re sloppy drunk or an emotional mess. 
The party dies not too long after you leave, another hour left in most people before more Uber’s line up to take groups home in waves. Calum agrees to crash with Ashton and help clean up. When he finally checks his phone, nearing too early to still call it night, he spies a text. 
Am home. 
-H
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therainroguefanfiction · 4 years ago
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📱 Find Me (Tooru Oikawa) #12; It’s a Deal~
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📑 Table of Contents | ◂p r e v i o u s
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“Mom, I’m leaving!” You called as you slipped your sneakers on, tugging the baby blue mask up to cover your mouth and nose.
She peaked her head out from the kitchen. “Be safe and don’t kill anyone!”
You rolled your eyes. “Thanks for believing in me, mom.”
“You’re welcome, sweety!”
You picked up the messenger bag from the floor and slid it over your shoulder before pulling the door open and stepping outside. It was ungodly hot today, the air weighing heavily upon you like a thick fog. You seriously considered just turning around and heading back into the air-conditioned house, but you knew you would never hear the end of it from Kenma if you did so.
With a sigh, you headed out the gate that surrounded the small property, only to step back in surprise. Kenma was standing in front of you, his golden eyes glued to the gaming device in his hands. Next to him stood a black-haired boy that you assumed was Kuroo. ‘Holy shit he’s tall…’
The ravenette nudged Kenma in the ribs and he finally glanced up, his face betraying no emotion as was the usual for him. “Where’s my game?”
You sweatdropped, digging into your bag to produce the plastic case that housed the game in question. “I still haven’t beaten Cage, so I’m tempted to keep it. What are you doing here anyway? I said not to pick me up.”
“If you can’t beat Cage, we’re no longer related.” He took the game from your hands, carefully placing it into his own bag. “And Kuroo insisted that we come pick you up.” He then turned around, heading back in the direction he had just come from.
“At least introduce us!” Kuroo cried out before sighing and turning back toward you with a kind smile, offering you his hand. “Hi, I’m Kuroo Tetsuroo. It’s nice to finally meet you, Y/N-san.”
You slid your hand into his with a nod. “I’m L/N F/N, it’s nice to meet you, too, Kuroo-san.”
It was mostly silent between the three of you as you made your way to the train station that would take you to Nekoma high where the game was being held. It was mostly Kuroo asking you random questions in-between scolding Kenma for being rude, but you didn’t really mind his company, he seemed like a nice guy, plus he was taking care of your idiot cousin for you, so he already had points in your book.
The school came into view and Kuroo glanced at you. “Are you nervous?”
“No,” your brow furrowed in confusion. “Why would I be? It’s not like I’m playing.”
“Because of Oikawa,” Kenma responded simply, his cat-like eyes zeroing in on you. You came to a dead stop, eyes growing wide as your brain processed the words. “You forgot who we were facing, didn’t you?”
“I-In my defense, I’ve been sick.” You scowled at him, thankful that the mask was there to cover your reddening face. How could you have possibly forgotten such an important detail? ‘Calm down, Y/N! He doesn’t know who you are, just pretend like you’re a Nekoma student.’ “Give me your jacket, Ken.”
“No.”
Your eye twitched as he continued toward the locker room. “You little -”
Kuroo chuckled, sliding the red Nekoma jacket from his shoulders. “It might be a little big, but it should do the trick. He doesn’t know who you are, right?”
You nodded, taking the jacket from him and sliding it on. It was huge on you, making you feel quite small, but as long as it did what it was supposed to, you could live with that. “Nope. I never told him.”
The two of you reached the locker room just as a group of boys stepped out and you immediately caught the eye of a boy with a blonde mohawk. His eyes snapped between the two of you before he started to freak out, pointing at you as if you were some piece of art hanging in a museum.
“You have a partner, captain?!”
“No, this is Kenma’s cousin, Y/N.” Kuroo proceeded to introduce the Nekoma volleyball team to you, inserting little comments about each player as he did so. “They are here to watch the practice game and they’re still sick, so leave them be.”
“Why are you starin’ at me, huh?!” Yamamoto demanded, narrowing his eyes at his captain.
“Guys, Aobajohsai is here.” Yaku nodded his head toward the front of the school where the group of boys was filtering through, dressed in their white and blue track suits.
Your body tensed up upon seeing them and you tried to pull the mask farther up your face. Kuroo, sensing your discomfort, turned to Fukunaga. “Can you take Y/N to the gym so I can get changed?”
The black-haired boy nodded, giving you a kind smile as he motioned with his hand for you to follow him. The two coaches were inside the gym already, talking quietly amongst themselves. The older one noticed the two of you first.
“Oh, who is this?”
Fukunaga smiled politely at the older man. “This is Kenma’s cousin, sir. They came to watch the game.”
His dark eyes shined as he held his hand out to you. “Nekomata Yasufumi, I’m the head coach for Nekoma.”
“Nice to meet you, sir.” You took his hand, bowing lightly before introducing yourself. “I hope it’s okay if I watch the game.”
“Of course!” The younger man grinned before introducing himself as Naoi Manabu. “We appreciate you coming to support the boys.”
Nekomata glanced at the door where the opposing team had appeared. “You can sit with us on the coach’s bench.” He patted your shoulder as he passed by, going to greet the coach of Aobajohsai.
You made the mistake of glancing at the group, catching Watari’s attention. His eyes widened in surprise and you quickly looked away, hoping he wouldn’t give you away as you settled yourself on the bench, pulling the jacket tighter around your body. The gym was pretty cold because of the weather outside, so you were thankful for the warmth it provided.
Kenma and Kuroo entered the gym, greeting the other team before heading over to you.
“You look like a turtle trying to retreat in its shell.” Kenma commented blankly.
“Because I am,” you scowled, attempting to smack him in the stomach but he stepped back before you even got close. “You of all people should understand that.”
He just shrugged and began his warm up stretches. Kuroo chuckled as he glanced between the two of you. “You two are a lot alike.”
Both of you snapped your eyes to him and scowled. “We are not!”
Oikawa glanced up at the exclamation and, at first, he didn’t recognize you as you sat in Nekoma’s jacket, a mask covering the lower half of your face, but then you shifted your head and he got a better look at those eyes of yours. How could he ever forget those eyes? They were burned into his brain.
Watari noticed the captain’s shift of attention and he chewed on his lip, wondering if he should try to distract the brunette, but before he could make a decision, the third-year was already striding toward the three of you, his expression a mixture of determination and annoyance. Kenma was the first to notice his approach but he didn’t have enough time to speak before Oikawa was standing beside you, hand on his hip.
“You have some nerve ignoring me, deleting the app without a word, only to show up at our game!” He huffed, brushing his bangs away from his forehead.
Your eyes widened, heart racing within your chest. You wanted to deny the accusation, to claim he had the wrong person, but something within his eyes told you that he wouldn’t be fooled by your lies. He knew it was you. You glanced at Watari, who was watching the scene with a worried expression. Had he betrayed you and told Oikawa who you were? ‘Of course he did. They’re teammates.’
“You owe me an explanation!”
Kuroo slid himself between the two of you, eyes glinting with amusement. “Sorry, but Y/N doesn’t owe you anything.”
His brown eyes narrowed. “This has nothing to do with you. It’s between me and them.”
The ravenette hummed, grin spreading across his face. “Let’s make a deal, then.”
“What?”
“If Nekoma wins, you leave Y/N alone. But if Aobajohsai wins -”
Oikawa’s eyes met yours. “When we win, you have to at least hear me out.”
“Deal.”
“W-Wait a minute -” You cried out, your voice cracking because of your nerves. “Don’t I get a say in this?”
“No,” the two captains chorused, glaring at each other. You could just see the electricity between their gazes.
You looked to Kenma for help, but he only offered you a sigh, knowing that he would have to work harder to make sure Nekoma took the win. You had never wished harder that the ground would swallow you up whole.
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The game was intense.
Judging from how hard both teams were trying, you wouldn’t be able to guess that it was simply a practice game because they were acting as if it was the final battle for the gold. Every time Oikawa was up to serve, he made a show of staring at you for a solid five seconds before finally serving the ball and you hated it.
Just to spite him, Kuroo started doing the same, his grin stretching wider when the brunette glared at him. It was obvious to the ravenette that Oikawa was feeling jealous because he didn’t know the extent of the relationship between you and Kuroo.
It seemed to go on forever, at least to you since you weren’t used to watching volleyball games. Aobajohsai took the first set, but Nekoma took back the second set. The third set dragged on forever, neither team willing to give up but, in the end, Aobajohsai took the set by two points, much to your dismay. You could only hang your head as they celebrated their win.
Kuroo approached you with a sheepish smile, rubbing the back of his neck. “Sorry, Y/N-san. We lost.”
“I hate you, Kuroo-san.” You mumbled in reply, making the taller boy pout.
“That’s not very nice~”
Oikawa wasted no time heading over to you, a smirk upon his lips. “I won. Time to keep your side of the barga -”
Iwaizumi came up behind him, smacking him in the back of the head. “You won? Last time I checked, volleyball is a team sport, Shittykawa.”
A light strip of pink covered the brunette’s cheeks as he whirled around, his voice hushed. “Not in front of Y/N, Iwa-chan!”
But the boy only rolled his eyes. “You can figure it out later. We’re gonna miss the last train.”
Oikawa’s eyes met yours and he held his hand out to you.
For a moment, you just looked at his hand.
“Your phone,” he stressed, flexing his fingers. “I won’t let you get away again.”
Hesitantly, you pulled out your phone, but you were clearly taking too long so he snatched it from you, tapping away. To be honest, you expected him to make a comment about how you only had four contacts in your phone – your mom, dad, younger brother, and Kenma -, but if he thought anything of it, he kept it to himself as he tapped away on your phone.
“There. I’ve called myself from your phone so I have your number.” He handed it back, offering you a smile. “If you block me, I’ll find you, Geek-chan~”
A chill went down your spine and you couldn’t pull your eyes away from him as he left the gym with the rest of his team. Silence settled over the three of you for a moment before Kuroo clapped his hands.
“Well, that’s settled. Let’s get you home, Y/N~”
Your eye twitched as you stared down at his number in your call history, lips tugging down. Why did it feel like fate was messing with you?
“He really called you Geek-chan,” Kenma mumbled under his breath as he followed after Kuroo.
You scowled, bumping your shoulder against his. “Shaddup, Ken.”
It was barely visible, but the corner of his lips tugged up in amusement.
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You were just crawling into bed when your phone started to ding on the bedside table. You considered just ignoring it, but you knew he wouldn’t stop until you answered so, with a defeated sigh, you picked up the phone and checked the messages he had sent you.
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You decided to get it over with, saving the picture he sent to use as his profile photo as you saved the contact to your phone. As you filled out his name, though, you took pause, watching the line appear and disappear as it waited for your text.
‘Oh, I know!’ You erased his name, typing in something different. You had only just saved the contact information when he messaged again, clearly impatient.
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Despite yourself, you smiled at the cute image he sent, setting the phone on the table before settling under the covers. Unbeknownst to you, Oikawa did the exact same thing, falling asleep with a smile upon his lips.
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▸n e x t
📜 Read more by checking out my masterlist 📜
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Tag List: @the-broken-halo-writer​ @nekoma-hoe​ @iishoto-chan​
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trash-the-tozier · 5 years ago
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Maybe 4 and 21 + Kaspbrough for the cliché thing? We need content of this ship so please
oh yes friend, we definitely need more kaspbrough content! ask for and you shall receive. (sorry this is so late, i happen to have fallen ill and wrote this whole thing in a feverish stupor at like 1am last night BUT i’m satisfied with it so)
words: 2.3k | ao3warnings: mentions of myra? lolprompt: 4. Kissing in the rain and getting soaked before running inside laughing21. Blind date set up by friends
send me a cliche prompt (list here: x) and a pairing and i’ll write a drabble!
“I’ve had it. Had it! I’m fucking done! I’m over it!” Eddie’s voice was sharp, his hand movements sharper; it was a good thing that Richie had moved around behind him and taken the glass from his hand, or he would have spilled his gin and tonic all over himself and the floor. 
“Over what, Eddie?” Beverly asked, smiling more in amusement than sympathy, though there was sympathy in her voice. Her overly patient tone made Bill grin a little, and Eddie threw himself onto the couch, not unlike a child, bumping hard into Stan as he did, who looked disgruntled but didn’t move away. 
“Being single.” 
They were all at Ben and Beverly’s, and all at least a little drunk. It wasn’t the usual time of year that they all met up, usually choosing to do so around birthdays–and always on New Year’s–but Richie had flooded the group chat with whiny voice messages about wanting to see them all, and miraculously, all of them were free to meet up, so they had. Ben and Beverly had the nicest place, the engaged couple living in the penthouse suite of a building that Ben had designed in New York. The place was incredibly fancy, but had homey, comfortable touches to it that had relaxed Bill as soon as he stepped in. 
“You’re ready, you think?” Mike asked, his eyebrows drawn together in concern. He had a wrinkle in his forehead from making that expression so often over the years, and Eddie nodded resolutely. Eddie had gotten divorced a little less than a year ago, and while Richie had thrown a rather distasteful party for him after hearing the news, Bill knew that all of the Losers were glad that he’d been able to recognize how unhealthy his marriage had been and escape it on his own. 
“I need a man.” Eddie said, his face one of sheer determination, Richie wolf-whistling loudly, both in response and in agreement. 
“What kind of man?” Ben asked. He was grinning, but that wasn’t a surprise; Ben loved love. “Anyone in mind?” 
“Fuck, I don’t know.” 
“A bro?” Stan asked, and the entire group burst into laughter. The incorporation of “bro” into Eddie’s vocabulary had been–and still was–the funniest discovery of them all when the Losers had met up again as adults after so long. They all liked patronizing him with it, but hearing Stan say it was possibly even funnier.
“Fuck you.” Eddie said, but he was a bit drowsy now, his voice going a bit pouty and cute, and Bill felt a smile grow on his face despite himself as he watched him, Eddie resting a little bit against Stan’s shoulder.
“You know Eddie, I might be able to find a guy for you. I think he’d be up for a date with you. A friend of mine.” Beverly said. Her tone was careful, and thoughtful. She glanced at Bill for a moment, almost as though asking his opinion–not that Bill had one to offer, he didn’t know who she was thinking about–before glancing down at Ben. She was perched on the armrest of the chair Ben was sitting in, and Ben looked back at her before shrugging his shoulders. 
“Dude, Bev, hook me up too.” Richie said from behind the bar. He wasn’t actually mixing any drinks, as all of them had declared themselves done with drinking for the night, instead tapping against the counter when he got the urge and chewing on ice. Beverly laughed. 
“Anyone else want a hookup?” She asked, Mike raising a hand resignedly, Bill doing the same. Beverly began to laugh, meeting Bill’s eyes again as she brought her drink to her lips. “I’ll see what I can do.”
The Losers planned on staying in New York for a total of five days, and on day three, while out exploring the city, Bill got a text from Beverly. 
From: Bev M.got you a date tonight!! semi-fancy restaurant. 7:00pm. The reservation is under my name. I’ll text u the address!!!
Oh. What? Bill simply stood there, staring at his phone screen. He hadn’t thought she was serious, when she’d asked for hookups. But here he was, with a date tonight. He would have kept standing there in his bewilderment if someone hadn’t bumped into his shoulder, making him realize that he was stock still in the middle of a New York City sidewalk, and he began back to his hotel room. He had to start getting ready. 
The restaurant was fifteen minutes away, so Bill left his hotel room with thirty minutes to spare, navigation turned on and cell phone in hand. He hadn’t really brought any fancy clothes on the trip with him, but he hadn’t had the time or the energy for a full shopping trip, so he was making do with some light blue slacks and a plain white dress shirt, hoping that the fact that the shirt was tucked in and that the leather shoes and the leather belt matched was enough to pull the whole look together. 
He arrived at the restaurant ten minutes early, but when he told the host the name his reservation was under, he gave a curt nod, telling Bill that the other half of his party was there already, and asking him to “follow me, please”. Bill felt the first thrum of nerves in his chest, reaching up to fiddle with the buttons on his shirt, wondering if he should unbutton a few–having two popped open was too many, right?–when the host stopped, and Bill stopped, and his date looked up at him. 
“…the fuck, bro?”
Eddie. Eddie was sitting there, staring up at him. He looked and sounded stunned, and Bill was sure he had an equally stunned look on his own face. But Eddie… Eddie was dressed very nicely, in a red dress shirt and black suit jacket, his hair styled, and it completely threw Bill for a moment. He looked incredible. 
“Are… Are you sure this is the right table?” Bill asked. “For the reservation?”
The host looked annoyed. “Party of two for Beverly Marsh at seven, correct?” He asked. Bill nodded, seeing Eddie also nod in the corner of his eye. “I assure you sir, this is the proper table. Please.” He gestured to the chair, and at a loss for what else to do, Bill sat. 
“A server will be with you shortly.” The man told them both, before whisking himself away. 
The silence between them was heavy for a moment, slightly tense and very unsure, before Bill decided to shake himself out of it. This was Eddie, the same Eddie he’d known since childhood. No reason to act strange. 
“You clean up really nice, Eds.”
“Oh, shut up.” Eddie answered, not looking at him, though there was a pink dusting across his cheeks, visible in the romantically dim lighting of the restaurant, that told Bill he’d liked the compliment anyway. “What the hell was Bev thinking?”
“This is probably just a joke.” Bill said. It was the only thing that made sense to him. He wasn’t sure why she would set him up with Eddie, someone she’d said she had an actual date for, but still. Maybe her original plan had fallen through. Maybe she’d been messing with them the entire time. Or maybe not.
“Richie and Stanley had better not be hiding around a goddamn bush somewhere, with a fucking camera or something.” Eddie said, glancing around for a moment, the idea of it making Bill laugh. He found he wouldn’t mind some footage of this night, sneakily taken on Richie Tozier’s phone or not. Eddie really, really looked good. 
Take a picture. The familiar phrase crossed his mind, usually reserved for men gawking at pretty girls. It’ll last longer.
“Joke or not, Beverly and Ben are the ones paying.” Bill pointed out, picking up his menu. “We might as well have a nice dinner, right? The food looks really good.” 
Eddie gave the proposal a thought for a moment before nodding. They both ordered shortly after, and once Eddie gave his heavily modified order to their poor waiter, who was writing all the allergies and substitutions down as quickly as she could, he seemed to relax. That had Bill relaxing in turn—once a leader, always a leader, never able to fully sit back if one of his own was in distress—and they began to talk. 
Bill always forgot how nice it was to spend time with Eddie until he was actually doing it. They’d spent a lot of time together as kids, the two of them friends before anyone else in the Losers Club. And often, when they were together, they weren’t doing anything specific, just being in each other’s company; doing homework together, reading side by side, Bill telling Eddie a story he’d thought up to write. Eddie was the first one to hear about his dreams of being a author, and the first one to support him with them. 
Despite all of the familiarity, it still felt like a date, too. There was a slight, underlying sense of anticipation, of anxiousness. There was Eddie, still acting himself, but with a thread of self-consciousness to his movements and his words. Bill, unable not to linger for what might be a moment too long whenever their eyes met. 
Two hours and over a hundred dollars out of Beverly’s pocket later—she was a fashion designer, she could take it—they left the restaurant and broke out onto the street. They were staying at the same apartment, walking in that direction together. A few drops began to fall, Bill glancing up. The weather app on his phone hadn’t said anything about rain, but there the clouds were. Eddie, of course—Eddie, always prepared—reached into an inside pocket of his suit jacket, opening up a compact umbrella. Bill ducked under it, Eddie accommodating him without Bill having to ask, and being so close had Bill noticing two things: Eddie smelled incredibly good, and Eddie was a solid two inches taller than him.
“Fuck.” Bill muttered, having to glance up to look at Eddie’s face. The word was more to himself, but Eddie was close enough to hear, and laughed. 
“Don’t worry about it, you’ll always be Big Bill to me.” Eddie said. Rain was steadily coming down harder. “It wasn’t really a height title anyway; it’s just you, you know?”
“Me?”
“Being a leader, being strong, being fast, being brave, all that shit.” 
“You’re brave too.” Bill said; he couldn’t help it. “What you did, leaving Myra—I’m proud of you. I don’t know if I ever said that.”
Eddie took the words at a nod, seeming to think them over, his lips scrunching as he did; seeming to taste them in his mouth. 
“You were always the bravest of us, Bill. You can not argue—” He must have seen Bill’s mouth open in the corner of his eye— “Because you have no idea—you have no idea how cool I thought you were.”
“Oh, were. Ouch” Past tense. Bill had to laugh a bit. “That hurts, Eds.”
Eddie stopped to laugh when he realized the backhanded sort of compliment, seemingly too caught up in nostalgia to notice it at first. 
“Please, you can’t pretend you didn’t have a fucking soft spot for me.”
They weren’t walking anymore, very close together under Eddie’s tiny umbrella. While not completely empty, the rain had emptied the streets enough for them to be left to talk without blocking the sidewalk. 
“How could I not?” Bill asked back. “You, you…”
Eddie always had this look, when they were kids, a look that had been so plain and open that Bill couldn’t have missed it if he tried. And he didn’t try, unable to help but bask in it instead—a look that told him that Eddie thought Bill had been the one to hang the moon. The expression was covered up more as they got older, taken over by teenage self-awareness, but still peeking through every now and then. Now that they’d grown, Bill figured that the look was gone, that Eddie’s admiration of him had to have faded. 
But it was here, now, also mixed with adoration as Eddie looked down at him, so plain and so open and full, and all Bill wanted to do was kiss him. So he did. 
Eddie’s grip slackened on the umbrella and a moment later it was swept away, but that didn’t matter in the slightest because Eddie’s hands were on his face, kissing him back. 
That energy that Eddie had, that energy always under the surface; Bill could feel it as Eddie kissed him, as Eddie pressed as close as possible, but the kiss wasn’t hard, or harsh, or fast. It was soft, as gentle as Eddie was timid, but as sincere as Eddie was brave. 
Rain was falling down around them, down on them, but Bill didn’t notice it until they broke apart, the drops big and cold and heavy on their cheeks and shoulders and in their hair. Bill found he didn’t care, either, about getting wet; his hand found the back of Eddie’s neck, still wanting to be close, smiling as he felt Eddie’s forehead rest against his own.
“You know Bill, of all the times I imagined kissing you, I never imagined having to lean down to do it.” Eddie told him, and Bill burst into laughter. 
“Fuck you.” He said, Eddie laughing too, the two of them having to lean away to avoid knocking heads. The umbrella was completely gone to the wind now, and with light touches and even lighter hearts, made a mad and laughing dash towards Bill’s hotel room. The rain might have been cold, but it was the warmest Bill had felt in a long time. 
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fics-for-my-heart · 6 years ago
Text
Tinder Boy (b.h)
Summary: Train rides and weird left swipes
Word count: 1120
Warning: none
A/N: Another that was asked for! Let me know what you think! And check out this post to let me know which you’d like to see next! (The picture mentioned is with this hair btw) This idea came off the tweet about being on tinder and swiping left on the guy who was behind her
Masterlist
Part One   Part Two   Part Three
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“Attention all. The train will be leaving in 10 minutes. Please find a seat and have your ticket ready.” The announcer said over the intercom and the sound of people shuffling increased.
You see your ticket under your bag in the chair beside you, adjusting your headphone volume and made yourself comfortable. The train ride home was always long, which was why you only took it on holidays and a few weekends a year.
Once everyone was seated and their tickets had been checked the train started rolling. You bounced between apps. Reading, liking pictures on instagram, sharing stuff on facebook. You spent a good amount of time on tumblr, reblogging post and stories that you’d come across. Eventually you ended up on tinder.
Your mother wouldn’t shut up about you needing to find someone to spend the rest of your life with. You’d roll your eyes every time, but eventually caved and got on tinder just to get her to calm down. It wasn’t all that bad, there were some questionable people but some funny bios. As usual you were swiping left, most of them only had one sketchy photo and no bio. Or they had stuff in their bios that turned you off to them. Then, you had to laugh out loud, you came across someone using Ben Hardy's photos and name.
You knew who he was, just about everyone did, which is why it was so funny. It’s not that you were a big big fan, sure some of the pictures you had reblogged were of him, but everyone had seen X-Men or Bohemian Rhapsody. You opened the profile and were kinda impressed. The bio was really good, and there were a few pictures you hadn’t seen before. But it was still weird that people did that, make pages for famous people. It’s unbelievable that catfishing still happens even though there is an entire movie and show about it.
After a few more click throughs of the pictures you laughed again and swiped left. There was a puff of air over your ear, and a barely audible laugh before someone spoke.
“You seemed interested, why’d you left swipe?” The voice was deep and made you jump, turning around only to be left speechless. “You alright there, love?”
“You. Oh this is weird. I’m asleep right now.” You shook your head. Ben Hardy was sitting right behind you. You turned around and closed your eyes, hoping that when you opened them it really would be a dream.
A foot touched yours, and when your eyes opened, Ben had moved to the seat across from yours. “Did you think it was a fake profile?” He didn’t seem annoyed, just curious.
“I mean, I’ve come across some people using Cody Simpson photos, so yes.” You removed your headphones and looked at the man. Still not believing he was actually sitting there.
“Not to sound creepy. Buuuuuut, I did see you reblogging some pictures of me. So you think I’m cute?” He tried to smirk but laughed, shaking his head.
“Someone is a bit cocky? Still channeling Roger Taylor are we?”
“Would that help, darling?” This time he succeeded in his ‘Taylor smirk’.
You pointed at his bag, “Do you have the Roger wig in there? If so it will seal the deal for sure.”
“Rats,” He shook his head.
“Welp. Lovely chat but I have some music to listen to.” You grabbed your headphones as Ben’s mouth opened in shock. He reached for his bag and stood up, but you stopped him with your leg. “I’m just kidding.”
He sighed in relief and sat back down. “You really had me going there for a minute….” He trailed off, offering you a spot to give him your name.
You shrugged. “Y/N.” You reached out and shook his hand. “I thought you used bumble?”
“I use both, but honestly being kinda famous and using a dating app results in a lot of people thinking it’s not really me. Like with you.” He shrugged.
“Ahh the struggle. You should see some of the weirdos I’ve had in my inbox. People are incredibly odd.”
Conversation between you was easy. He mostly asked about you, and actively listened to everything you said. He answered your questions about filming and really enjoyed that you were curious about how auditions and filming go and less about wanting all the dirt on his costars like others in the past. You’d never had imagined you’d get the opportunity to ever meet him, and you were shocked in how calm you were. Something about him just radiated calm.
By the time the train stopped at your stop the two of you were sitting beside each other showing photos of pets and family and friends. It was as if the two of you were just people catching up.
Ben hopped out of the seat and grabbed your bags along with his and followed you out to the station.
“Do you have anyone picking you up?” He asked, stopping at a bench to set down the bags.
“Yeah, my mom.” You looked around before spotting her. “She’s right there actually. You better vamoose before she thinks I showed up with a boyfriend.”
“I wouldn’t mind that thought. But you’re right. Here.” He pulled out a notepad and pen. “Here’s my number. Incase you need a fake boo.” He laughed, scribbling out his number before handing you the pen to write yours down.
“Careful, I might take you up on that. It was nice to meet you.”
He smiled, giving you a quick hug, which ended why too soon for your liking. “It was nice to meet you too. Have a good day Y/N.”
“You too, Ben!” You said before watching him walk away.
“Honey! Oh who was that boy! He was cute.” Your mother said, giving you a quick kiss while watching Ben out the door.
“Just a guy I met on the train mom.” You picked your bag up and headed toward the door she came in, she was yammering about you needing a man again.
“Sweet heart. That boys was perfect for you. The two of you were so cute together. Did you at least get his number? You should invite him for dinner.”
Just as you went to respond your phone vibrated.
Maybe: Ben: Found this gem on my phone. Thought you might like it x Ben
Included was a selfie he had taken shirtless wearing the long Roger wig.
You: You sure don’t disappoint Hardy
“Are you even listening to me Y/N?” You mother asked, pulling into the driveway.
“Yes mom.” You lied, smiling as the three dots appeared at the bottom of the screen.
——
A/N2: So I might do a Part 2? Have them be a fake couple for her mom and then really date? Yes? No? Let me know
Tags:
@hermionedeservesbetterthanron @unlikelysamwinchesteronahunt
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