#at first it was just sitting there bc I couldn’t stop myself from tracking the calories of some things
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valewritessss · 2 months ago
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Finally deleted MyFitnessPal off my phone for my own personal sanity
#got some memories with that app#at first it was just sitting there bc I couldn’t stop myself from tracking the calories of some things#but after a 13 day streak shit could only get worse so I deleted it#proud of myself#that thing had me in chokehold last year did not want a repeat#tw myfitnesspal#tw mentions of eating disorder#random post#ooc post#kind of vent#???#started to wake up stressed out about what I’m gonna eat and I was like nooo not ts again#was literally restricting myself to 1200 cals a day AND IM 5’7#tw eating issues#sucks when you’re not even underweight so you don’t feel valid#waitttt I was not meant to trauma dump in this post#can we not bring being 2000s model skinny back into being trendy bc why are body types a tend in the first place#I can change fashion but definitely not my body#no bc this world is fucked up why was I scared to die alone bc I wasn’t skinny when I was literally 10#I hate that it’s normalized to praise people’s bodies#like idc if that makes me soft but a girl just living and everyone just talking about how good her body is#why is that okay bc yes it is positive but it also creates so many negatives#like does anyone get what I mean#it’s a compliment but it also makes everyone including that person afraid to be anything but ‘body goals’#idk how to explain it but like imo bodies shouldn’t serve aesthetic purposes#they actually have functions and needs and they allow us to live#tw body image issues#I hate wiead’s too but that’s just because why is everyone’s food so gourmet I literally just slap some butter onto toast lol#late night post
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urhoneycombwitch · 2 months ago
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#17 from that prompt list about seeing the marks left on their partner and getting turned on has got me all kinds of 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 It feels roommate-eddie coded 👀 especially if they have their no-marks rule, but he just kinda loses control one night.
Then we torture him, walking around showing it off, telling him he can’t touch until he learns some self-control…okay, I’m gonna see myself out…
(most assuredly not @rebelfell sending two asks in a row)
foreword: Sarah I’m being so fr how are you literally in my brain… I had a blurb on this very topic set on the back burner bc I couldn’t find a place for it so here it is spruced up!!! (prompt 17 from this list)
cw: Reader has breasts, visible marks, no skin tone/color mentioned, a wee bit of choking kink, not full smut but mdni as always. oh yeah and biting 😈
___
You can feel the weight of Eddie’s eyes on your form, even as you pretend to be oblivious, leaning into the reflection of the standing mirror in the corner of his bedroom.
A few swipes of your pointer finger and your lipgloss is perfect; with a smack of your lips, you straighten up again, tugging the hem of your tee down to meet the band of your jeans. “Almost ready?”
The friendly smile you turn to give Eddie is met with a glower, his dark brows slanted, a death-grip on both knees where he sits simmering on his bed.
“Did you come in here solely to torture me, or do you have other plans up your vixen sleeves?”
Briefly, your eyes flick to the ceiling as you turn back to your reflection, fussing with your hair to keep your hands busy. “Only plan I got is attending our beloved friend’s barbecue. Which we should’ve left for, like, five minutes ago.”
Eddie huffs. In response, you sigh, landing just-left of condescending. “Not my fault you want to fuck me regardless of what I’m wearing. It’s jeans and a t-shirt, Eddie, I’m basically fit for a nunnery-”
There’s a whoosh of spiced air that wafts over first, chills cascading down your spine made worse as Eddie moves in. His left hand lands on your hip, rooting you to the carpet, while the other tracks up, skirting between the valley of your clothed breasts, your collarbone, your neck…
He takes your chin between thumb and forefinger, silver rings biting cold against your skin as your neck goes lax, baring a long, tantalizing stretch of it as Eddie tilts your face up and to the side.
His lips press to the sweet spot behind your ear, then follows the slope of your neck down, stopping at your shirt’s collar that hides the rest of your skin. From your hip, his hand lifts to pull the fabric aside, revealing a scattered canvas of suck marks and teeth imprints that grace the top of your shoulder.
“You really gonna show up with these? Make all our friends wonder who’s been marking you up?”
Eddie’s voice is low, but you’d be a fool to mistake it for softness.
Another shiver licks along the length of your body, and this time Eddie feels it; he presses in closer, hand sliding from your chin to hold just under your jaw as he meets your fluttering eyes in the mirror.
“What’re you gonna say, hm? If Robin asks where they came from? If Steve makes a jock-y comment? If you get teased?”
It’s not like you haven’t been in this situation before- attending events with mutual friends, having to act like your roommate hasn’t been the one checking all your boxes, making up excuses for being late or looking like someone had been using your body as their personal chew toy.
You’ve always made excuses- pretty seamless ones, if anyone’s counting. You don’t even try to squirm away when you respond, swallowing around the light pressure at your throat- “I’ll tell them what I always do. Blind date hookup, one night stand, my dentist’s cousin’s friend that I’ll never see again-”
Eddie bites into the soft flesh of your upper shoulder, hard, free arm wrapping around your midsection like a seatbelt while his other elbow digs into your chest, hand still wrapped around the column of your throat.
The air leaves your lungs in a rush, white-hot adrenaline surging with the sting of the bite, body stiffening against the restraints of Eddie’s arms as you grit out, “Asshole!”
It sounds too whiny and pleasure-soaked to cause any real alarm, Eddie grinning into the curve of your skin (bastard) before tsking, kissing over the thumping mark in partial apology. “Mm. I think you like it. I think you get off on parading our little secret around the poor folks who don’t know any better-”
“As if you don’t.” Eddie may be the one doing most of the biting but you’ve got the bark to match, glaring furiously at the reflection of his maddeningly-cool black-caramel gaze, even as the pressure on your windpipe increases with a minute flex of his palm.
“Yeah. Y’got me there, princess.” His eyes flit across your exposed skin, like he’s trying to memorize all the shades and colors of you combined with the wreckage of his handiwork. “Maybe you should cover up some more. So it’s just you ‘n me who knows what’s under here.”
The cotton collar snaps back into place, covering almost all the evidence (save for the tail end of a day-old scraped hickey). Eddie releases your jaw and takes a step back, the warmth leaving your body all at once, frozen where you stand until sense returns.
You clear your throat before speaking, irritation prickling as you set to fixing your hair again from where Eddie’s interruption had stalled. “Whatever. Fine. But I’m only changing because it’s gonna be cold later, and a long sleeve will be better- not because you told me to.”
“Fine.” Eddie adopts a neutral tone as he settles back onto the mattress with a bounce, tugging absently at the inseam of his dark jeans to relieve some of the mounting tightness. “Have it your way.”
“I will,” you snap back, turning from the mirror on a socked heel, pointing an accusatory finger at the boy on the bed. “And you better have your boots on by the time I’m changed.”
With that, you flounce from Eddie’s room in search of a more conservative neckline, while Eddie pouts and pretends to have the will to disobey you for all of five seconds.
And then he’s up, trudging to the bureau reluctantly to source a pair of socks while scheming for the perfect excuse to take you both on the extra-long route to the barbecue.
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bless-my-demons · 1 year ago
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Redamancy: Chapter Twenty-Three
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Series Summary: What happens when your soulmate is a vampire that struggles to maintain a diet of trying not to kill you? Common sense says run for the hills, nothing is worth your life - but my heart is whispering why not, what’s there to lose?
Warnings: Just fluff, y’all deserve it lol
Notes: I’ve had this chapter written for a long time already and this week I’ve just kept adding to it lol I also tore my thumbnail off at work so I’ve been typing on my phone with my index finger and it’s pissing me off, I apologize if I fuck up some spelling bc of it. Enjoy our boy being back and not holding anything in anymore🥰
Word Count: 3500
Series Masterlist
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•March 18th, 2006 • Home •
Reader
I don’t know what’s worse. Watching Jasper leave, or standing in front of him months later completely unprepared to see his face ever again.
Jasper Hale is here, he’s real, he’s home.
I can’t breathe all over again. I just-
My body collides with his before I even realize I’m moving. Wrapping my arms around his neck feels like a puzzle piece clicking into place. He’s solid against me, slightly chilly but real. I can’t believe it, I inhale for the first time since opening the door and it really is him-the scent of pine and everything Jasper slides right into my lungs and clicks against my heart. My breathing is noticeably choppy and I can barely contain the sob lodged in my throat. One hand wrinkles his shirt in a fist at his shoulder while the other grips his beautiful blonde hair at the base of his head, my eyes squeeze shut to hold in the tears from the overwhelming feeling of having him this close again.
“You-you’re home.” I choke out, the lump in my throat almost impossible to slip words past.
His arms close around me delicately picking me up off my feet, like I’m made of porcelain. He hasn’t moved an inch otherwise, almost as if he’s thinking that I might be a dream too. I feel his chest expand and his arms cinch down a little tighter, bands of steel that aren’t releasing me anytime soon.
“I’m here darlin’, I’m home.” Jasper whispers into my neck.
“You can’t-don’t leave-“ I stutter, words failing me, hands starting to shake.
“Shhh sweetheart, I’m here.” He smooths a hand down the back of my head and cradles it against his shoulder.
Tears start to fall in a steady flow at the reassurance in his voice, words I’ve needed to hear for a long time now clanging through my soul. He’s here and I don’t know for how long, but he’s here.
Jasper steps forward into my house with me still enveloped in his arms, nudging the door to slam shut with the toe of his boot, he stops.
“Couch?” He asks, as if he’s unsure what to do next.
I nod into his neck, I could probably let go and walk myself, but I can’t release him just yet. He moves us over to the couch and as he sits, I pick my legs up to lay across his lap, a hand drifting down my thigh to guide me into a comfortable position. It’s like time picked up right where we left off, a shudder running through me at the familiarity of him.
“Darlin’, I need to see that gorgeous face of yours.” He says in that southern accent that’s like a spear to my heart. I want to shake my head, I’d prefer to stay in this bubble locked around him. Instead I do the reasonable thing, my arms relax the death grip I have on his neck as I lean back to look into his eyes.
“There you are, sweet girl.” He whispers with a grin, dark brown eyes tracking the tear stains running down my cheeks. His thumbs reach up to swipe away the wetness as he places a kiss to my forehead before taking a deep breath.
“Why on earth would you try to-to kill-” He struggles with the words in a way that clenches my heart.
“I wasn’t trying to kill myself. It was recreational diving.” I pick at the edge of my sweatshirt and I feel him shift.
“Alice couldn’t see you come out of the water, I was so scared, you… You can’t do that.” Jasper pushes some fallen strands of hair behind my ear, staring at where his cold finger meets my warm skin.
“Can’t do what?” I challenge, meeting his eyes as defiance flairs in me.
“Scare me. Put yourself in a situation where I might lose you.” His answer is warming and bold, but it delivers a blow to my chest.
“Like when I lost you six months ago?” Fuck, the lashing is out of my mouth before I could think, but I stand by it nonetheless.
He takes a deep breath, glancing around the living room before nodding.
“I’m sorry…” my voice is small as I whisper the apology, I truly didn’t mean to snap.
“Sweet girl…” he drifts off and closes his eyes, missing the pink on my cheeks from the nickname. “You have no idea, it was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. The most scared I’ve ever been - that night in September and today.”
“You have no idea, Jasper. It’s not so easy to live without you either. To wonder if you’re alive. If you’ve moved on without me.”
He opens his almost pitch-black eyes and gapes at me like a fish out of water. How could this man think so low of himself that he can’t see how much I care for him?
“Have you been feeding?” I ask him, worry lacing my tone as I take his cheeks in my hands.
“When I need to, it turns out that not a lot matters besides you. You also scaring me to death kind of does that to a man.” He responds with a pointed look and a smirk tugging on his lips, his hands tightening their hold on my waist.
I blush again, not used to him being so open with his thoughts and feelings. “Oh hush.” I flash a sad grin back, the dark circles under my eyes an obvious sign I know exactly how he feels.
“You look tired sweetheart, maybe-“ he begins.
“No.” I interrupt him, there’s no way I’m taking my eyes off him any time soon, not even for a nap.
Realization dawns on him as I stare a hole into his chest, the grip I have on his shirt unyielding like it’s the only thing tethering me to earth. “Y/n, let’s go upstairs and you can take a nap, I’ll stay with you the entire time. You need some sleep, doll.”
“You-you’ll stay with me? You won’t leave?” I ask as he picks me up bridal style in his arms and begins walking to my room.
“I won’t leave, not until you ask me to.” He reassures my fears, no doubt catching the distress pouring off me in droves at just the thought of letting him go even for a simple nap.
“You’ll be okay laying with me?” I ask, concerned about making his hunger uncomfortable.
“Sweetheart,” he starts while ascending the stairs, “I’ve gone too long without you, I can wait a little longer to take care of myself.”
I sink into his arms a little further, my eyelids beginning to feel the weight of all the sleep I haven’t been getting since he’s been gone.
“Sleep, I’ve got you.” He murmurs into my hair, placing a kiss as he turns the corner to my room.
He sets me down on one side of the bed, the sheets unmaid making it easy to pull up and cover me. He speeds to the opposite side of my bed, toeing his shoes off before sliding under the sheets with me. He keeps his distance, facing me on his side with an arm propping up his head so that he could study me.
I turn my body to mirror his, “You’re not staying all the way over there, are you?” I ask mildly offended.
He lets out a chuckle, “Guess not.” He opens his arms to let me wiggle in closer, I press my nose to his chest and pause. “What is it?” He asks, immediately sensing my hesitation.
“Can I?” I lift my leg a little as if in question, too scared to ask something so intimate out loud.
He slides a chilly hand down my leg to grasp the back of my knee to hike over his thigh, leaving goosebumps in his wake and not just because he’s cold from the lack of sustenance in his system.
I sigh as I settle in, body finally able to relax for the first time in a very long time. I feel myself drift off as he rubs my back and whispers, “Sweet dreams darlin’, I’ll be here when you wake.”
Blissful all-encompassing darkness finally drags me under peacefully for the first time in months.
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Jasper
I’m in Y/n’s bed, actually holding her and breathing her in. It’s like a soothing balm spreading over the exposed live wires of my sanity that have been buzzing uncomfortably since the day I ran from her. Gazing down at her sleeping face, I can tell the last few months have taken their toll on her too. Her forehead has more crinkles from stress, the dark circles under her eyes standing out against her delicate skin. Her lips aren’t quite as full as I remember, no doubt related to the volume missing in her cheeks from lack of nourishment. She’s still gorgeous, devastatingly so, but I know her well enough to notice the small changes.
I take a deep breath to let her scent flow in me, to heal the piece I’ve been missing for months, her hand tightens it’s hold on my shirt. I had no idea my absence would have such a prominent effect. I figured she could live without me simply the way she had before me.
As I gaze around her room to take in the disorganization, I hear her breathing pick up. Glancing back down I spot her nose scrunching up and a scrunch in her brow, in addition her heartbeat begins a steady increase. A nightmare, I can sense the fear and loneliness in her emotions.
“Darlin’,” I murmur softly into the soft skin of her temple as I run a hand down her back, “Wake up darlin’, it’s just a dream.”
She snaps awake with a sharp inhale, “Jasper?” Y/n asks, “You’re still here?”
“I’m here, do you want to talk about your dream?” I ask while I hook some loose strands of hair that escaped her bun behind her ear.
“Doesn’t matter now, you’re here.” She replies, her hands roaming my chest like she’s trying to convince herself of her own words.
God I’m so stupid for leaving this girl.
“Let me… Let me go take a shower so I can feel like myself again. You…?” Her question drifts off like she’s afraid to ask me to stay, like it isn’t her right to make demands like that.
“I’ll be here when you get out sweetheart, take as long as you need.” I end my reassurance with a kiss to her forehead, I can’t get enough of touching her again.
“Okay.” She whispers as she peels herself from where her body is intertwined with mine. I’m not used to the intimacy, but I’m more than happy to oblige my girl.
My girl.
That would require me to make her my girl. Require me to talk about my feelings for her, to make up for my horrible actions, for leaving her alone when she needed me.
I watch her shuffle around her room gathering clean clothes to wear for the night as I scoot back on her bed to lean against the headboard, hands folding in my lap content to just observe. The organization of her room only known to her as she picks up and discards articles of clothing that don’t satisfy her.
I lean forward from my resting place against her headboard and reach a hand back to grab the collar of my hoodie to remove it. As I’m yanking it off, my cotton T rides up flashing her a view of my stomach and I know she catches it based on the change of her scent.
A smirk graces my lips as I extend my hoodie towards her, “Here, sweetheart.”
Stunned eyes blink back up to my face as nervous hands grasp my jacket, “Thank you.” Whispered quickly from her lips.
Once she has what she needs, she pauses in the doorway to the hall, turning back to look at me.
“Go, before I’m tempted to undress you myself.” I smirk at the blush that dusts her cheeks, having reached my goal of bringing color back to her beautiful face. Effectively flustered, she rushes down the hall to her bathroom.
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Reader
Wiping the condensation from the mirror, I grimace at the reflection. When did I start to permanently look tired? I let out a huff and check the time on my phone, I slept less than an hour in his arms. Not bothering to blow dry my hair, I ditch my dirty clothes in the hamper and walk back to my room.
Jasper’s eyes immediately find mine, “What’s wrong doll?” He asks, definitely having heard me fuss over my reflection in the bathroom.
“I’m just… still tired.” I offer as I turn to hang up the towel I used for my hair on the back of my door.
“C’mere.” He slides back down the bed from his position at the headboard and opens the blankets for me
I climb back into bed and scoot close to him, my forehead inches from his as I gaze into his dark eyes. I half expected him to be a figment of my imagination when I returned from my shower. We don’t say anything to each other, but it’s like he can’t keep his hands to himself and it’s new, but also not at the same time. Don’t get me wrong I absolutely love it and I can’t stop touching him either, but it’s different now-I’ve gone so long without him.
“Jasper?” I whisper into the quiet of my room.
“Yes sweetheart?” He responds, halting the hand drawing circles on my arm.
“What are we doing?” I wonder out loud, unable to continue this limbo with him, my nerves shot to hell.
“Well,” he leans in, one hand moving to cup the back of my head, “I’d like to…” his nose bumps mine and I can’t breathe. He’s going to kiss me, Jasper Hale is going to-
Right when I feel his lips ghost mine, his phone rings, ruining the peaceful moment. With a groan and a clench of his jaw, he turns to grab his phone from my nightstand, Alice’s name flashing on the screen.
“This better be important.” He says by the way of a greeting to his adopted sister, as he’s staring at me with those pitch-black eyes. There’s hunger there and I’m not entirely sure it’s for blood this time, I shiver and he catches the movement immediately.
“Mary Alice-“ he manages to force her full name from a clenched jaw.
“Yes-yes I know, I’m sorry, but it’s Edward.” She proceeds to launch into an explanation as he sits up, concern taking over his features as I overhear Alice explain their situation in Volterre.
Wait-Volterre as in Europe? Are Alice and Bella in Europe? What’s wrong with Edward?
Jasper turns to give me a reassuring half-smile, sensing the turn in my emotions.
Shortly the call with Alice ends and he turns to me fully, “What’s going on?” I question before he can manage an explanation.
“I chose to come home the same time Alice came to check on Isabella, after you two decided to do some… recreational cliff diving at the reservation and Alice couldn’t see the outcome. I decided to come with her because I had to see you with my own eyes, the opportunity to see you again was something I couldn’t pass up anymore.” He began, looking down at his hands nervously. “Edward… He called Bella’s home phone requesting to speak to her father and Jacob answered. Informed him that Charlie was planning a funeral, but didn’t mention that it was for Harry Clearwater. So now… now he’s in Volterre asking for death from The Voltouri.”
“Who are the Voltouri?” I asked, worry creeping in for Edward. “Why would he ask them for such a thing?”
His eyes meet mine, soft even though his hunger shines clear. “Darlin’, he thinks Bella is dead. The Voltouri are the governing body to our vampire race. They’re judge, jury, and executioner rolled into one, full of very powerful beings.”
“Okay, but clearly she’s alive! And on her way to meet him, why would he want to die?” I press him harder, worried for my friends.
“He isn't answering his phone, his mind has been made up, which is why Alice is racing the clock to get to him. Isabella is his singer, honey-“ his hands reach for mine as I interrupt him.
“Singer? What in the world is that?” I demand, my patience thinning at the anxiety of the situation.
“A blood singer is a vampire’s greatest temptation,” he begins, now unable to meet my questioning gaze, looking at our intertwined fingers instead. “They’re blood sings, or in other words, is irresistible perfection for their vampire. In some cases they are the potential mate for the vampire. A singer isn’t like that for all vampires, usually just for the one. A life without them is extremely dull in comparison once you’ve found them.” He concludes.
“Sounds like you’re familiar with the feeling,” I mumble self-consciously. “Have you had a singer?”
The sharp exhale he forces out snaps my eyes to his. “Yes.” He answers truthfully.
“Oh…” My heart sinking, I try to pull my hands from his but he holds tight. “That’s-“
“You, darlin’.” He states matter of factly, one of his fingers lifting my chin, so that he could find my eyes. “You are that for me.”
“I-I’m your singer?” Disbelief and awe seep into my tone.
Jasper’s fingers drift down my neck following the path of my pulse, his dark gaze following their trail. “Yes Y/n, you’re mine.”
I shiver at the pure possession in his voice and the dangerous glint in his eyes. I wonder if he knows how that sounded, like there was no room for negotiation - like it’s more than my blood he wants.
“Honey, you keep those thoughts up and we’re in trouble.” He grinds out, a war raging behind his eyes.
“Jasper…” I trail off as I climb over the remaining space separating us and into his lap, like a magnet drawn to its counterpart.
“Does this mean we’re… Mates?” I ask, not really sure of what that implies.
“Yes,” Jasper takes a moment to seemingly gather his thoughts, “you need to tread very lightly, little one.” His voice a deep vibration in the quiet room, his hands flexing on the comforter of my bed.
“Oh my god, you haven’t eaten and I-“ I stutter out as I rise from my position in his lap. I’m his fucking singer and I’m pushing his limits while he’s hungry!
“Now that you know everything… I need to hunt. I think I’ve tested all the patience and luck I’m going to get today.” He states with his black eyes still locked on mine.
I leaned against my dresser a few feet in front of him and fold my arms over my chest, a little insecure under his intense gaze now that his proximity isn’t overriding my rational thoughts.
“Go, go hunt. But please, come back to me?” I ask him.
He rises from the edge of my bed, slowly closing the gap and resting a hand on my cheek softly. I lean into it, closing my eyes and turning to press a kiss to it before meeting his eyes again. His lips part as if he wasn’t expecting that kind of reaction, “I’m yours now - have always been, but now I know I don’t have the strength to do that again, to abandon you.” He reassures my fears quickly. “It’ll be a few days, to properly prepare myself, but I promise you’re my first stop when I’m back.”
“I’ll hold you to that, Hale.” Feeling better about him leaving now that I have his word. Jasper leans down to place a lingering kiss to my forehead, his cool lips feeling like heaven on my heated skin.
“Be safe while I’m gone, please.” He whispers into my hair, his thumb sweeping my cheek back and forth adoringly. I nod since my throat feels like I’ve swallowed cotton, sad that I’m forced to be without him for a few days after just getting him back.
He steps away from me toward my open window, where the cool spring air drifts in. Glancing back for one last look before making his exit, I catch his eyes scanning every inch of my body.
He’s out of the window in the next fraction of a second, not even a whisper of footsteps in his wake. I wrap myself a little tighter in his hoodie, his intoxicating scent soothing the ache that’s beginning to return, reminding me he’s here.
He’s home, Jasper Hale came home to me.
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Taglist Part 1:
@aoi-targaryen @Min-jianhyung @pbbsl @timelordhunterandmysterysolver @sheerangermany @clearwater-hoe @Blackbluerose666 @ivy-plays @random-human02 @delightfulbluebirdstarlight @steh-lar-uh-nuhs @gaymazinglula @l3ejm @angelfuzzy2 @losa12308 @thekinkpopstandsforkrackheads @flyawayprincess @ropickle @catbusloki @deviat3dsn0wf0x @lovesanimals0000 @unrevived @h-naec @cutesnakemum @zudooms @itsmytimetoodream @stinkii-boii @acoolnight @anothercoffeeblogx @irishblend10 @from-now-on-im-switzerland @kyraslife2 @naolvshan @kiiwiigii @rosedpetal @kiaraandrea @foolsgoldxo @heartfilia01 @azuredgalaxies @geekysimmerthings @graciereads @ramen-girl-2424 @0hmydekiru @creeqvealley @cherriebat @whichwitchisthebitch @dragon-rider-with-a-book @secretfairytailpetscookie @psychobitchsthings
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skinnyducky · 3 years ago
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made for you // v.h.
hello.. im sorry i havent been posting. school has been keeping me busy but i wanted to post this. this idea comes from @yelenasdarling so thank you ! i recommend listening to halley’s comet by billie eilish (as well as the whole album) bc that’s the song that is being discussed in this (as well as many others), so yuh. enjoy ! and i promise i haven’t forgotten about party @ y/ns !
vinnie hacker x singer!fem!reader
Word Count: 1408, edited
WARNING: MAJOR FLUFF LUV
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As the year was coming to an end, so was your debut album. For months, you’d been working with the best producers, musicians, and doing endless promo for this album and within a few days, you’d be playing it for the label. Obviously because it is your first record, you’re protective over it. No one had heard it besides the people working on it. So, you were a bit nervous to let your pleading boyfriend, Vinnie, tag along to the studio with you.
It was Friday, and you two had been chilling in his room when your producer, Sarah, said she needed you to go over it before the label meeting. As you bid your goodbyes to Vinnie, informing him of the reason for your departure, he pouted. “Why can’t I come?” he nearly cried, giving you his puppy dog eyes. Because you couldn’t resist them—and you just can’t say “no” to him—you allowed him to come.
Now here the two of you were, in the studio and listening to Sarah go on and on about how long it took for her to finish mastering it. Your manager, Jen, had came too. She had to hear the album for herself also. She couldn’t have her client looking a mess in front of her bosses. Bad for business and her reputation.
“…and after an hour or two of making sure your vocals were clear, I finally finish the album.” Sarah explained. “Honestly, this is probably the best album I’ve produced in a minute, and I worked on SZA’s album.”
“That good?” Vinnie asked with a smirk, leaning against the studio door. “That’s sick. I’m ready to listen to it.”
As that sentence left Vinnie’s mouth, you felt your anxiety overcome you. “Are you sure, Sarah? There has to be some sort of adlib I need to rework or something. Can’t be ready so soon.”
“Y/n, it can’t get any better than this. This is a solid project. I should know, I spent days listening to it over and over again. Trust me, it’s ready.”
“Besides, it’s too late to rerecord now.” Jen added. “The label meeting is next Thursday, and we don’t have a week for Sarah to mix and master all over again. Once the label gives us the greenlight, if there’s anything to tweak, you can do it before you have to submit the final project. But until then, no changes and no additions.”
You sighed, nodded your head. It’s not that you were afraid of it not being perfect. You were more scared of what Vinnie would think. I mean, he’s the one who inspired the album; more than half of the songs are about him. His opinion meant everything to you, and if he didn’t like an inch of it…that would destroy you.
As you were sulking and picking at your chipped nail polish, Vinnie wandered over to you where you sat at the soundboard with Sarah. He leaned against it and smiled down at you. “What’s the matter, baby?”
“Nothing.” You sighed, keeping your head down. He scoffed and chuckled. “Y/n, you’re playing with your nail polish. You always do that when you’re upset.”
He pulled you up and took you out of your seat before sitting down himself and placing you on his lap. “Tell Santa what’s up.” He joked, wrapping his arms around your waist.
“I’m just nervous. This album means so much to me.”
“Completely understandable. It’s your first one, it should mean a lot to you.”
You shook your head. “It’s not just because of that. It’s also because it’s about you. The only reason you haven’t came with me to the studio until now is because I didn’t want you to hate anything on this, and it would kill me if you did.”
“Y/n, look at me”—you finally met his eyes for the first time—“I could never not like anything you do. Especially if it’s dedicated to me. That’s like throwing away a gift you gave me. I wouldn’t ever do that. So don’t think for a minute that I’d hate this. That’s literally impossible.”
You smiled, planting a kiss on his forehead. “You’re too good for me.”
“I know.” He laughed and turned to Sarah. “Play us the album!” He said dramatically, sending the producer into a fit of giggles.
She followed his orders and with a few clicks and the press of a button, the first song from your album rang out from the studio speakers. You watched timidly as Vinnie bobbed his head up and down as it went from track to track.
“This shit slaps!” He exclaimed as “Y/n Bossa Nova” played. He nearly about died during “Oxytocin”, claiming it to be god tier. Minutes went by until you got to the final track “Halley’s Comet”, and you were scared to play him this song.
While the other tracks were quite playful in nature, this one was different. The song was a bit cynical, but it was also like a love letter to Vinnie. Never before have you ever felt what you had with him. And at first that made you scared. But as the months went by and your relationship started to blossom, you realized he was the one for you. This was just your way of telling him that.
When it started, you looked everywhere but at Vinnie. It wasn’t just because you couldn’t bear to see the expression on his face, but also because this song was quite emotional. You didn’t want him to see you “being a little bitch” as you put it.
The sound of your soft vocals bounced off the walls and you felt Vinnie place his chin on your shoulder. His hold on you grew tighter as he swayed you two back forth. A small smile crept it’s way onto your face as you tried your best to stray away from crying.
“I’ve been loved before, but right now in this moment,” you sung, “I feel more and more like I was made for you…”
When those lyrics hit, you felt Vinnie stop swaying. Hell, you were pretty sure he had stopped breathing too. You didn’t know what to think about that; did he not like the song, is he shocked? What was he thinking and feeling? Shortly after, the song came to an end with you singing, “I think I might have fallen in love…what am I to do?”
And with that, the album finished. The room was silent, the only sound being your sniffles. Although that was broken when Sarah screamed. “Wasn’t that amazing!? Ugh, my power…I really outdid myself on this one.”
Thankfully, Jen understood the impact of that last song. “Sarah, why don’t we go get a Snickers or something from the vending machine?”
“I can’t eat anything fatty, Jen. You know this.”
Jen mouthed some profanities and threats at the woman causing her to shoot up from her chair and run out into the hallway. “We’ll leave you two alone for a minute.” Jen smiled, leaving the room and shutting the door behind her.
Neither of you or Vinnie spoke and that somewhat was comforting. However, part of it made you feel insecure about the album, “Halley’s Comet” in specific. Out of all the songs, that’s the one you wanted him to like the most.
The silence soon grew uncomfortable, so you decided to be the first to speak. “Well, that was the album. What’d you think?”
He opened his mouth, but it was obviously he couldn’t find the right words to say. “I-I don’t know how to even put it in words.”
“That bad?” You sighed.
“No, never.” He laughed. “It was beautiful, all of it really. And that last song, that was amazing.”
You pursed your lips, hiding the grin wanting to break free. “You think so?”
“Yeah, it was definitely one of my favorites. To know I had that much of an impact on you, it’s really sweet. I didn’t think I could simp for you any harder than I do now.”
“Shut up!” you laughed, slapping his shoulder.
“It’s the truth!” he said, throwing his hands up in defense. “I love you, Y/n. I really do.”
“I love you too.” And with that, he laid a sweet and gentle kiss on your lips.
Pulling back, he said, “Oh and just so you know, I agree with you.”
“On what?”
“You were definitely made for me.”
321 notes · View notes
loveforighteous · 3 years ago
Note
hey bestie! Here’s hopefully your first request! May you please do a headcanon/ blurb/ imagine of domestic josh? whatever format works for you! Thank you
hi bestie! i wrote this on my phone bc i couldn’t bring myself to get up and grab my laptop lol. i took some liberties with this so i really hope you enjoy. thanks so much for the request 🤍
TW: mental health
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It had hit you like a ton of bricks, as per usual. The winter months weren’t kind to your brain, scaling icy fingers along your mentality until the cold turned to numbness. It was one of the many reasons why you were so scared to move in with Josh. You’d been dating for a while and he’d seen you at some of your lowest points, but he’d never seen you like this. Before living together, you could just shoot him a text saying you needed some time, letting the anxiety and depression melt away on their own. But sharing a space with him meant sharing yourself, unabridged and thorough, like a text book.
The day he came home to you curled on the couch crying, dishes still resting in the sink, laundry laying to waste in the washing machine, was the day things changed. You hadn’t even showered that day. Clad in just underwear and one of his white, long sleeved shirts, you hiccuped through your tears. Josh jammed his key in the lock. While you didn’t want him to see you like this, you couldn’t bring yourself to get up.
“My love, I’m home!” He called through the apartment. You didn’t respond; you wiped your tears with the sleeves of his shirt and sat up. He hung his keys by the front door and slipped off his converse, humming a tune, assuming you were in the shower. He stopped in his tracks when he caught sight of the mountain in the sink. It was unusual, he noted, and he turned toward the living room. You two locked eyes.
“Y/N?” He whispered, eyebrows furrowed.
“How was your day?“ you croaked, feeling the tears coming again. You choked them back with a shaky sigh.
“Baby,” he sighed, sitting next to you. “Are you okay? Are you feeling sick?”
You shook your head. “Not like…sick. Just sad.”
That’s when the tears started again. Without prompting he pulled you into his chest. You sat like that for some time, Josh stroking your hair and humming, you crying into him without holding back. He kissed the top of your head and pulled you back so he could see you.
“I’m sorry about the mess.” You mumble, embarrassed that you even have to apologize.
“Don’t.” He placed his hands on your shoulders. “Let me take care of things, okay? I haven’t been pulling my weight.”
“But you’re so busy, Josh, I can’t expect you to—“
“Y/N, stop.” He stroked your face, “I’ve got it, okay?”
Reluctantly, you nodded and he kissed your face a million times before you finally smiled.
“There it is.” He whispered fondly before getting up. He grabbed the remote and put on your favorite show. You watched absentmindedly, blocking out the sound of clacking dishes and running water. You heard the electric kettle beep—a few minutes later, Josh was handing you a mug with your favorite tea, just the way you liked it, finishing off the delivery with another kiss in the crown of your head.
You turned your head to watch him in the kitchen. He scrubbed each plate, bowl, cup with a gentle fervor only he could create during such a mundane task. It took him only a few minutes to load up the dishwasher, then he moved on to cleaning up your surrounding area, sweeping the floor and folding blankets. He decided you looked cold and placed the fuzziest one over your crossed legs, tucking you in at the sides of your thighs through your laughter.
“Gotta make sure you stay warm.” He mumbled, more to himself than you. He stood to go finish the laundry when you tugged on his sleeve.
“Stay here with me.”
He huffed a laugh and smiled at you. You took the blanket out from where he tucked you in and invited him to share your warmth, to which he obliged and tangled your legs together. Your heart swelled at the feeling, leaning up to kiss his jaw. He nuzzled into the feeling and brought you down so you were laying on his chest.
“Please tell me next time,” he whispered, “I hate that you felt this way all alone.”
Your mouth twitched, “Only if you promise to do the dishes more often.”
You sat in silence for a few moments, sleep settling in your bones, when Josh spoke up once again:
“I’d do anything to see you smile, Y/N.”
172 notes · View notes
stutterfly · 4 years ago
Text
Swipe Right 04 | Patch Notes | JJK (M)
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Rating: M (Explicit 18+)
Pairings: Jungkook x Reader, brot7 x friendship
Genre: E2L, fluff, angst, humor, [eventual] smut, PersonalTrainer!Jungkook, fuckboy!Jungkook, Nerd!Jungkook, Nerd/IT!Reader
Word Count: 15.1K
Last time on SR03: You joined a gym to increase your confidence and things progressed the way you want with your tinder match. You ended up in an unlikely competition with your friends when you went new bar together, leading to some unexpected conversations and shenanigans.
CW & Other Tags: Drinking, anxiety/panic attack mentions, muscle tearing injury mention, fuckboy Jungkook, pining, flirting, pick-up lines, sexual tension, Joonie is still Y/N’s best boi, soft Jungkook
Series: Activate your SIMCard
Fic: Swipe Right (4/?- Ongoing)
Do not repost.
⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰
When’s the last time you felt as good as you do right now? Jungkook has pretty much stopped bothering you since that night at Seesaw, your date with Jason went well, and you’ve been sticking to your early morning workouts. You definitely don’t push yourself as much as trainer Hwasa, and you know you should really take advantage of the free trial, but it was overwhelming to take in so much at once and the session made you sore all over for days.
At least your stamina seems to be improving and you’ve discovered post-workout endorphins are real. Tonight is your second date with Jason, a date you’ve uncharacteristically elected to host at your apartment. You can place some blame on those endorphins for your boldness, with pining and disappointment composing the rest of it.
While your first date ended without a kiss, there was enough flirting to keep you hopeful. Neither of you were brave enough to do anything about it then, but you’ve mentally coached yourself into pretending like you have an unbreakable spine with nerves of steel. Meeting him only solidified your attraction, and you’ve resolved to take the lead, even though you feel like you have no idea what you’re doing.
It’s not like you often make the first move, but your confidence in him to do so has waned. You’ve been talking and playing games together online for months without any physical touch. Despite how he’s said he likes you and wants to see you again, you’d still be waiting if you didn’t suggest today.
You’re determined to show him what he’s missing by being a recluse. That’s why you’ve picked out the sluttiest clothes and the strappiest heels you own, decorated your face with expensive makeup, and even styled your hair instead of just letting it do whatever it wants for the day. You check yourself out in the full-length mirror on your bedroom door for the millionth time and pull down on the hem of your dress like it will somehow magically grow longer.
You don’t need the heels; no part of the night calls for them. You’re going to be sitting on the couch with him. If you’re lucky you’ll even move it to the bedroom you spent so much time cleaning. But they’re cute and they make you feel sexy, so you’re going to keep them on until he’s peeling you out of your dress.
Nerves bubble in your stomach, but you have to pretend like they’re not there or you’ll fixate on how hard you’re trying to be confident and cool. You’ll fall apart when it’s obvious to Jason how hard you’re pretending to be everything you aren’t. Checking your phone doesn’t help; it’s almost time.
Taking a deep breath, you pace through the confines of your apartment as you wait, and answer group texts from Jennie and Namjoon. You offer up a selfie, hoping any compliments will build your confidence enough to stave off the anxiety in your gut. A few devil emojis later, some keysmashing, and more than a couple hamfisted compliments from Namjoon, your ego is adequately inflated but you can always use more hyping. Maybe you should send it to Jimin to fish for more compliments? He’d indulge you for sure.
Instead you flop on the couch and open Tinder. According to Jennie, Jason is stringing you along; it’s been months, but you hate to admit that she has a point. So you don’t. She’s been telling you for a while now that she thinks you should pursue other suitors. While you object to her assumptions, she has more experience with this kind of stuff. It’s not exactly something you want to believe, not when you’ve put in so much effort for literal months.
You want to believe in Jason being awkward and dorky and that’s why it’s taken so long for the two of you to hook up. He’s shy and super introverted, but so are you. So why are you the only one trying to make things happen? You want to believe, but at this point you’re uncertain enough to heed Jennie’s advice and keep swiping any time you find yourself in a situation where you’re waiting on him. Like now.
You have your reservations about swiping while you wait for your date to begin, but you can practically hear Jennie cheering you on. He’s late anyway, and it will keep you busy until he arrives. You open the discovery tab and swipe left on a couple incomplete profiles. Most of the guys on here don’t put in any effort. How are you supposed to want to give any of them a chance when you don’t even get a tiny snapshot of who they are?
When you pass on yet another fish pic profile, a blue frame appears around the next guy in line. It takes a moment for your brain to register the name along with the duck-faced photo as someone familiar.
[Jungkook said: Your legs remind me of oreos 🥴 wanna know why?]
How fucking dare he? You match with the intent to ream him out and leave.
You: I told you not to fucking find me on here
It takes only a few seconds before you see the dots move on his end, like he was waiting for the moment you would answer, and it keeps you tethered to the conversation.
Jungkook: Princess!! I couldn’t help myself how are you
Jungkook: Surprised you didn’t block me
You: Don’t worry I’m gonna
Jungkook: it’s bc you wanna know huh
You: ???
Jungkook: Your legs
Jungkook: Like oreos
Jungkook: I wanna split them n lick the cream from the center 😜
Electricity rumbles in your gut, carrying heat and a surge of excitement to your cunt that threatens to flood your panties. You swallow hard and squeeze your thighs together as you stare at the screen. Embarrassed by the response his antics elicit, you scramble to formulate a coherent thought.
You: I wish I could unread 🤢
Jungkook: Aw but that’s one of my favorites
Jungkook: Just like you 😘
You: 🙄
You: I hate you so much
Jungkook: So much that you matched with me?
You stare at the message like a clever response will come to you and when it doesn’t you bite your lip. He’s got a point. Haven’t you learned your lesson not to encourage him? Your eyes scan the top of your phone for any notifications from Jason. Nothing. At least this is keeping you distracted. That’s what you tell yourself.
Jungkook: You’re still here which means 👀
You: It means I’m tired
Jungkook: Of?
You pause for a moment. Namjoon and Jennie can’t know how anxious you are about Jason. It’s the guy’s last strike with them and he hasn’t even met them yet. Jungkook, an impartial third party, might be able to lend an ear. As much as you don’t care what he thinks, you need an outlet for the anxiety in your chest. You start to draft a word-vomit. Jason has been so hesitant to see you in person again and now he’s late. Maybe if you just put it out there to someone you’ll feel better.
Jungkook: If you need to sleep how about a massage?
Jungkook: I’m good with my fingers 🥴
Stupid. In what universe could you confide in Jungkook? Deleting your word-vomit before you can send it, you start to type something else, but your thumb accidentally taps enter at the exact wrong moment.
You: You know what? I want you
FUCK. Goddamn you, sausage fingers.
You scramble to rewrite the sentence but Jungkook is quicker. He has to know it was an accident, but you’re still fucking mortified.
Jungkook: 😈
Jungkook: My place
Jungkook: Ten minutes
You: *to stay off my profile
Jungkook: 👉👌?
You: YOU KNOW I DIDN’T MEAN THAT
You: 🤢🤢🤢
Jungkook: 😩
Jungkook: Now you’re just playing games with me princess
Jungkook: Can’t say I mind just fuck me up 🥴
You: Don’t you have a princess to fuck in another castle? Maybe she can stroke your tiny ego
Jungkook: Ouch felt that from here
He goes quiet and you close the conversation out. Setting the phone down on the cushion beside you lasts all of two seconds. When your phone buzzes twice, you know better than to answer, yet you feel compelled to look.
Jungkook: Hey quick question
Jungkook: Is this the most you’ve used the app to talk with someone you like? 👻
Just like that you unmatch with him and take a moment to seethe. Distraction or no, he’s not worth the mental energy. He always seems to draw you in like a pretty little thirst trap and drain you of your sanity. Not engaging is the safest option so why do you always end up doing so? Maybe it’s that shitty little part of you that gets excited any time he shows you attention.
There’s a gullible girl within you; she sets your pulse on fire when he feigns even the slightest interest, fills your head with wind when he brushes against you, and floods your eyes with tears when he walks away. Still, she wants him to look at you, even if it means he’s really looking through you. You hate her. Why can’t she learn that you deserve better?
You check the time again and wince. Jason is really late now. Not even a text. Or a phone call. Maybe it’s traffic?
Try to relax. Nothing bad is going to happen. You’re going to have fun tonight.
You start up a game to take your mind off the options available to explain his absence. When you’re invested in a game you often lose track of time, but tonight you’re hyper-aware of every minute that passes. You bite at your freshly painted nails during loading screens, chipping the red from their edges. Sounding casual is difficult when you’re worried, but you attempt it anyway via text. It’s ten more agonizing minutes of waiting before your phone buzzes with an answer.
The controller drops to your lap and immediately tears begin to sprinkle your thighs with the manifestation of your heartache.
He forgot.
⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰
An earthy scent fills Namjoon’s apartment as he carefully transfers the last of his plants to a bigger pot, filling in the edges of its roots with fresh soil and patting the edges down with care. His plants have needed this, maybe even more than he needs the mini hangout that will soon follow. The kitchen table is covered in dirt, but at least he’s almost done.
It’s not his fault Jungkook showed up earlier than expected. At least he’s quiet now. It’s been a while, but he’s finally stopped asking about how much longer it will take, so he must either be invested in the show he put on or asleep on the couch.
“Almost done,” Namjoon loudly announces. “Can you text Tae?”
“Kay.” Jungkook yawns as he stands and heads towards the bathroom. “Jin was already cooking when I left so it should be ready soon.”
“Good. I’m hungry,” Namjoon says, carefully transporting the plant to the desk in his bedroom.
As he’s on his way to clean up the mess on the table there’s a soft rapid knock at the front door. The moment he opens it and finds you standing before him, he knows something is wrong. Even the ratty hoodie covering your shoulders can’t hide the effort you’ve obviously put into your appearance tonight. While your makeup seems to have fared rather well, your eyes are red and your cheeks are puffy. His mind automatically assumes the worst about your second date and his jaw tightens.
“What happened? Did he hurt you?”
“He never showed.” You throw your arms around him and openly sob.
“Oh, Y/N…” His arms are around you in an instant, hugging you close while keeping his dirty fingers at bay.
You press your cheek against his chest, letting the tears fall freely. “I’m sorry. I know you probably have plans tonight, but I wanted to stop here—” You choke out a loud sob and wipe your nose with your sleeve as you look down at the floor. “I didn’t want to drive upset but you weren’t answering and I just—”
“Shit. Exam today. I left it on silent.” He pats his pocket to make sure it’s still there, wiping as much dirt as he can on his jeans before placing his hands on your shoulders. “Hey, it’s okay. Deep breaths.”
Jungkook emerges from the bathroom quietly with a furrowed brow and pursed lips. Did he hear your voice or is it his imagination? Unsure if you’re some wishful remnant of earlier texts, he peeks around the corner.
Heels: black, strappy heels with a velvety smooth red undersole. Has he ever seen you in heels? If he has, it’s never been something as flashy as these. His gaze travels up the smooth, exposed skin of your legs until it hits the hem of a skirt. The dark fabric seems a little short; it clings to your thighs, riding up as you embrace his friend. It’s hard not to notice how well it accents the curve of your hips and more importantly: your ass. He’s definitely never seen you in something so revealing, not even on nights where you’ve joined them for dancing.
He pauses for a fraction of a second, eyes trained on the swell of your ass before moving up to find the disappointing sight of your favorite hoodie barring much else from view. Namjoon’s arms outline your shape, but the places his hands rest are far too respectable to glean much else other than simple blueprints.
With his dick leading his steps, Jungkook opens his mouth to announce his presence with a joke. He means to selfishly steal a glimpse of your entire ensemble with some snarky comment but you choke out a sob and his stomach lurches to form a whirlpool of apprehension. His mouth remains open, but his words are swallowed back into the dark swirling pit that now wrenches his gut in circles.
Namjoon looks up just in time to read the confusion and shock on his features. He shakes his head and cups yours against his chest, wordlessly signaling Jungkook to keep quiet.
“Is there anything I can do? Do you wanna talk about it?” Namjoon asks, hoping you don’t see the man behind you slowly backing away like he’s just approached a rabid animal.
You’re sobbing. Why are you sobbing? What happened? Was it what he said before you unmatched? Jungkook tiptoes back into the kitchen without a word. He leans against the counter and shoves his hands in his coat pockets, trying to piece everything together. Did he cause this?
You screw your eyes shut to try to keep the tears inside. It’s no use. They always seem to find a way out. “He didn’t show up and when I texted him, he… he said he forgot."
“What?"
“I thought it would be good after the arcade date, you know? Like, good chemistry. He’s weird. I like him! He seemed interested and we made these plans and he just—” you choke out another loud sob. “God. Am I really so fucking forgettable?”
You wanted your friends to be wrong so badly that you ignored the fact that it’s been like pulling teeth trying to get Jason to meet up again. For him to forget completely is like a kick to the face that leaves all the teeth intact, maybe a little bloody, but stubbornly intact.
“Y/N, no. It’s not your fault. You deserve better than this fucking guy.”
Jungkook swallows hard. This definitely doesn’t feel like a conversation he should be hearing, but it’s loud enough to carry through the entire apartment. Kitchen, bedroom, or bathroom: his options are limited, but he knows there’s nowhere to go to pretend like he can’t hear it. It’s not like he can just walk out the front door now.
“Do I? It’s seems like a fucking pattern, Joon. I fall for people so easily and they always make me feel like an idiot for trying. Donghyun. Seojun. Jason. Jungkook… It doesn’t matter. No one fucking wants me.”
Jungkook tenses. He may not know all the names on your list, but his is among them all the same. Has he really hurt you so much?
“Hey… Don’t think like that,” Namjoon says, his voice soft as he rubs your back. “You know your worth, and it’s not measured by how well someone else can see it.”
Every time you think you’re done crying, fresh tears begin to roll down your cheeks. “I’m tired, Joonie.”
“I know. I’m sorry. We'll get you home."
As you step back to look at him your ankle rolls, and you begin to fall. Hearing the scuffle, Jungkook winces and peeks around the corner. Namjoon has a good enough grip to stop you from fully tumbling to the floor, but you’re definitely not stable by any means.
Although you now face Jungkook, you’re too distracted by your ankle to notice the extra pair of eyes on you. He allows himself to stupidly linger within your line of sight, raking his gaze across your form to take in the details of your attire, right down to your choice of earrings. Even with a red nose and puffy, smudged eyes, the time you’ve spent on your appearance remains evident.
You did all that for some guy who didn’t even show? If that’s how you dress for your dates then his innocent perception of you is completely wrong. What kind of moron would pass up the opportunity to peel you out of that dress and dive into your cunt? You look incredible. What the fuck.
"God. Shit. Fuck! Fucking stupid heels!” You huff out your exasperation and let a small pitiful laugh pass your lips as you right your stance with Namjoon’s help. “You know, I spent hours getting ready and now I just look stupid. I feel stupid.”
“You don’t. You’re not,” Namjoon insists, his palm squeezing your shoulder.
“Namjoon, I shaved my entire body. Do you know how long that took?”
Jungkook forces himself to withdraw into the kitchen. If you see him now you might murder him. He purses his lips into a thin line and tightens his grip around his arms. In an instant he imagines hiking your dress above your hips and parting your legs so he might brush his cheek against the smooth expanse of your thigh all the way to your core. Are your panties as slutty as your dress? Are they cute? Lacy? Plain?
“Geeksquad…” Namjoon sighs loudly. “I really don’t need to know— Hold up. Wasn’t this the second date?”
“Are you slutshaming me?” The tired laugh that follows sounds more like you, but it still hurts his heart. “I’m stepping up my game.”
“Nah. You do you,” he says, a soft smile on his lips that’s obviously full of pity. “You want to stay and get some food? I think I have some sweats you can change into.”
Tires screech in Jungkook’s mind. Is he going to be trapped here for the night? Without dinner? What kind of karmic torture is the universe putting him through?
“No, I’m sorry,” you sniffle, wiping your face with the sleeves of your sweater. “Jennie wants me to come over but I—I didn’t think I could make it with having a full meltdown. You were on the way.”
“No need to apologize.” He pulls you into another tight hug. “Do you want me to walk you back to your car?”
“No, no it’s fine. I’m right in front. Thanks, Joonie.” Your phone begins to buzz in your hoodie pocket. You pull back and wave it at him, already on your way to the door. “It’s like she knew. I’ll talk to her on the way. Thank you for listening to me cry for the millionth time.”
“Always. Text me when you get there, okay?”
“Will do, mom,” you tease with a soft laugh.
“Zip up your hoodie.”
You grimace at him with narrowed eyes but heed his advice on your way out. You also pull your skirt down as far down your thighs as it will reach. Men are gross and you trust virtually none of them.
Jungkook waits until he hears the click of the lock on the door to breathe a loud sigh of relief. Namjoon rubs the back of his neck and stares at the door. He worries about you.
“Yikes. That Jason guy is a dick huh?”
Namjoon swivels on his heels and rounds on his friend. “Like you were so much better to her?”
Jungkook casts his gaze to the floor. “I didn’t stand her up.”
Even he knows that argument is flimsy.
“Guk.”
“It was always just a joke.”
“It’s not though. She really liked you, man. I asked you not to mess with her.”
Memories have warped Jungkook into a jaded man: untrusting although not uncaring. Guilt is the only thing churning in his stomach as he thinks of you. He never expected to genuinely hurt you. Somehow things twisted into a gnarled mess that never really felt like more than a playful game of tug-of-war. But these kinds of games only work when the people involved know that they’re playing. It’s shitty when one pulls another into the mud when they’ve never agreed to participate.
Faced with the reality of how you consider him now, it dawns on him that he’s dragged you into the mud face-first without even the slightest resistance. You’ve stood up and you’ve even yanked the rope in retaliation, but you never should’ve been in the mud in the first place. Regardless of his own emotional ineptitude, he knows you never deserved that humiliation. No one does. The weight of his actions sits heavy in his gut.
Still he tries to justify himself. “All I do now is make pass after pass and she’s the one who turns me down.”
“You said it earlier yourself,” Namjoon sneers, irritated by his friend’s immaturity. “It’s always a joke. You’re never serious and she knows it. Look, you don’t have to like her back. She’s my friend and so are you. Just don’t lead her on and stop with the mind games. Be honest with her. The least you can do is apologize for being a dick.”
“That’s— I feel like… I don’t know how.”
Jungkook can’t bring himself to tell him of your conversation earlier tonight. It just adds to the guilt piling on his conscience. Namjoon used his own words against him and the worst part is it makes sense. It’s so much easier when it’s a stranger at a bar or a random encounter at a club, but you’re neither of those things. He lumped you into that category all the same.
Namjoon clicks his tongue and puts an arm around Jungkook’s back. “Starting with ‘I’m sorry’ can go a long way. She’s a good person and I know you guys can get along. Things were going well until you made that bet, right?”
Jungkook opens his mouth to speak and then closes it. “Mmm.”
“Not every girl is a Jiseo, Jungkook.”
“Yeah.”
“I think…” Namjoon sighs and shakes his head. “I don’t know. Can you try to just... tone it down? Maybe try to patch things up?”
“Okay.” Jungkook’s brow furrows and he chews his lip as he mulls over Namjoon’s words. He reaches into his coat pocket and pulls out his keys. “You ready?”
⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰
Your head dips forward as your fingers glide across the keys. It's hard to concentrate on your task when you're this distracted by your own thoughts. You stare at the monitor with furrowed brows. Namjoon grabs the back of your chair and leans forward to tower over you.
"Went that well, huh? Did he blow the second chance he didn’t deserve?"
The motion jerks you backwards and you grip the armrests of the chair to steady yourself. Despite your best attempt to curb the irritation in your expression, your frustration remains apparent. You sit back and tilt your head up to look at him, trying to think of something to say, some excuse to not reinforce the "told you so" waiting in your future, not after you showed up at his apartment sounding like a dying whale a few days before. When no ideas come to your immediate aid, you click your tongue and let out a heavy sigh as you turn your attention back to the screen.
"Geeksquad," he presses. "Talk to me."
You exhale through your nose and briefly purse your lips before obliging his plea. The words are quick and quiet so you don't run the risk of bawling your eyes out again. "He canceled.”
Namjoon steps back and the pressure on your seat is gone. He places a large palm on your shoulder. "I'm sorry. Do you want to talk about it?"
Despite wanting to give the opposite answer, you shake your head. You don't trust yourself to speak, but you'd like to tell him. He's clever and you know he'll likely find a way to get it out of you with minimal effort anyway. Still, you don’t think you can manage the words without crying like a baby and you don’t want to do that when the morning has only just begun. Silence falls between the two of you as he gives you time to decide if you want to open up.
After a moment of tapping away you finally give in. You know you’ll feel better after you cry.
"He said he had to stay behind and help do clean-up for the party he was at. And that’s nice and all, but we had plans. I feel crazy. I should be glad that he’s so kind, right? Like that shows he’s a good person, right?” Your voice has cracked but it hasn’t quite broken.
He sighs and flops in the chair on the other side of his desk. “Y/N… I think you’re asking me for answers you already know.”
“But tell me anyway,” you press, tears welling in your eyes. “Our first date went so well. So why-y-” Your voice breaks.
“Hey.” He reaches across the desk and brushes his fingers against your arm. “I know you want me to help you make excuses for him... But you deserve someone who values your time. Clearly he’s just looking to waste it.”
“But—”
“Y/N, you don’t need someone like that. If this is what he’s like before you’re even together, then what kind of effort is he really going to put into a potential relationship? Not enough. There are so many people out there, people that would trip over themselves just to have the chance to be with you. I know you don’t want to hear it, but I think it’s a mistake that you even gave him another shot. He blew it. Twice. Delete his number. Forget him.”
“I know,” you croak. Tears fall from your eyes and you quickly swipe them away, focusing on the task at hand.
Namjoon is right and you know it, but you’re kind of irritated about it. You know it’s not really him you’re mad at, but Namjoon is a good enough placeholder while you try to sort through your hurt feelings.
You muster your most monotone voice as you stand. “I updated your drivers and deleted any cached files that might have been causing issues. Is that all?”
“Don’t be mad at me,” he pleads, rising to block your path as you step towards the door. “You have a big heart and I hate seeing it stepped on.”
In a matter of seconds you melt into his embrace and bury your face into his shirt. “I hate how fast I like people.”
“I know.” He pets the back of your head softly and squishes you against his chest. “It’s gonna be okay. How about udon later? My treat?”
“With beef?” you ask with a sniffle.
“With beef,” he agrees.
“Gyoza?”
“Mhm.”
“And takoyaki?”
“...You’re pushing it.”
⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰
You slide the appetizer tray across the table towards Namjoon. “Here.”
He shovels a dumping into his mouth right before he speaks. “I could eat this every day for the rest of my life.”
“Could you afford it though?” you tease, taking a sip from the bottle of saké and crinkling your nose at it before passing it to him.
“Not if you’re joining me,” he snorts. “You’re supposed to pour it.”
“No, thanks.” You push the tiny glass full of liquid back towards him.
"Wow. Are you guys on a date?"
You know the source of the voice before you even crane your neck to see Jungkook.
"Pfft." Namjoon waves the question off with a deep laugh.
Despite finding the scenario of ever dating Namjoon absolutely absurd, you can’t help but feel a little insulted by the volume of his laughter. Namjoon’s hangout night was supposed to take your mind off of how unwanted Jason made you feel. Instead, the pit of insecurity within your stomach grows into a thick, tangled brush of hostility. Is being seen with you really so laughable?
“Why would we be?” you snap, turning your attention back to your bowl.
Heat settles in your face and you purse your lips, not daring to look at either of them. You try to wrangle some noodles to shovel in your mouth before you can say something stupid. Their eyes are on you. Jungkook is definitely confused but not alarmed by your hostility. It’s something he’s grown accustomed to. But Namjoon knows when he hurts your feelings, every time, and it’s easy enough to disarm your irritability.
“She’s way too good for a mess like me,” Namjoon says with a light laugh.
“Why are you here?” you ask, tone already softer than before.
"Post-work snackie," he answers, all too cheery for your sour mood. “Came for the noods. Mind if I join?”
He looks to the rosy-cheeked Namjoon for his answer, as you set your hoodie and purse down in the space beside you to give him yours. Namjoon betrays you by scooting over to make room on his side of the booth. You’d mentioned to him before that you’d eventually like to fix things with Jungkook, to somehow make steps for peace. But you only have so much mental energy left to give today.
“Not tonight, Jungkook,” you plead with a sigh.
The frustration in that puff of breath is enough to make Jungkook hesitate. He blinks a few times, wide-eyed. “What?”
“I just… can’t handle your bullshit tonight.”
Jungkook tries to break the uncomfortable tension with a grin. “No bullshit tonight. Promise.”
“No.” Your answer is firm and somehow so fragile that it makes both men worry their brows in the same fashion. “Please, just go away.”
He shoves his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket and takes a few steps back. He doesn’t know what to make of your demeanor, but he can put enough together to know the basics. You’re upset, maybe not at him for once. However unlikely, that’d be a blessing. Maybe you’re still upset about that guy that stood you up a few days ago. If that’s the case, he probably shouldn’t stick around and risk letting on how much he knows about that.
He tongues the side of his cheek and nods, forcing a smile to his face. “Alright. I’ll just order it to go. Planned on that anyway. Catch you later.”
Guilt wracks your nerves as he walks away. The moment you look back at Namjoon, you’re faced with a wall of disappointment that threatens to topple the scale of decision-making in Jungkook’s favor.
“You’re judging me for that,” you mumble. The noodles between your chopsticks slip back into the broth.
“Little bit,” Namjoon admits, watching his friend sulk over to the entrance waitstaff. “You know he told me he’s trying to be nicer to you.”
“What? When?”
“The other day. We hung out.”
He keeps his answers short and ambiguous, hoping your curiosity has been piqued. Maybe this is the golden opportunity he’s been hoping for to patch your friendship.
“Was this before or after he harassed me on Tinder?”
Namjoon’s heart sinks into his butt. Of course Jungkook would make reconciliation harder than it needs to be. “When did he do that?”
“That night I showed up at your apartment like a big crybaby.”
“I went over his place for dinner after you left. Jin wanted to try a new recipe out on us.” That seems to at least make you pause.
“You guys talked about me?”
“Yup.” He goes back to chewing his food, knowing he’s got you hooked.
Your incredulous stare does nothing to pull information past his lips. “Joonie. What did you say about me? What did he say?”
“Mmm?” He slurps up a long noodle. “A lot of things. But they’re not really my words to tell.”
“No one likes clickbait, Joon.”
“Look, all I’m saying is that he told me that he wants to fix things. If you want specifics, maybe we can invite him to come eat with us. It might be easier for the both of you to talk about it over good food.”
You sigh, seriously considering his words even as you shake your head. “Joon, I’m already emotionally compromised. I really don’t want to cry in front of Jungkook tonight.”
“Why would you cry? This is a night for good things only. Namjoon-approved and protected. You don’t have to talk about anything you don’t want to... I just thought it might be nice to make some good memories with good friends.”
You roll your eyes but hold your pinky out for him. “Fine. But this is Joonie-Y/N time. You’re cutting into that allotted time slot, you know that right?”
Namjoon rests his elbow on the table, preparing to pinky swear to whatever you’re about to suggest. “Conditions?”
“He sits next to you, he doesn’t make fun of me if I cry, and…. he doesn’t get to talk.”
“Y/N.”
“Fiiiiine. He can talk. But he better be as nice as you say he’s trying to be.”
“We allowed to talk about Jason?”
“If it comes up…” you sigh. “You know, if he’s mean to me and I cry then you have to deal with it.”
He clasps his long pinky around yours. “Deal. But with how all that just went down, you gotta go tell him to come back. He won’t believe me if I do it.”
“Don’t let him be mean to me,” you plead, tightening your grip on his pinky and locking eyes with him. “Good vibes only.”
“He won’t be mean. Good vibes only.” Namjoon nods with a soft smile. “He really is a good person where it counts, Y/N.”
You push your things aside and force yourself to find Jungkook. He’s leaning against a wall near the entrance, scrolling through his phone while he waits for his order. You quietly request to your waitress that you’d like his food brought to your table. She’s nice enough about it, but your stomach churns regardless. It’s the anxiety.
You gingerly poke a finger against his shoulder as you approach. “Um. Hey.”
He seems startled at first, but smiles when he realizes it’s you. “Hmm?”
You take a deep quiet inhale, trying your best not to get lost in the butterflies his charming smile conjures in your gut. You try to tell yourself it’s anxiety and nothing more. Apologies are hard and scary. That’s all.
“I’m… sorry for being rude. I’ve had a rough week but I shouldn’t take it out on you. Come eat with us, please. Namjoon’s buying anyway.”
His eyes seem to light up with surprise and a warm smile deepens the creases around his eyes and mouth. The hope that these feelings of attraction would evaporate with time is a flame swiftly snuffed out and replaced with a burning heartache that deems denial useless. Even now, pangs of infatuation lurk below your feelings of disdain, breaking the tension of its surface with each beat of your heart.
“It’s okay,” he reassures you. “I shouldn’t have invited myself when I saw you guys. I should really get home and shower anyway.”
He looks so clean that you’d assumed he’d already showered. It’s not like you can smell him from where you stand. Maybe he’s lying, but at least you get the sense it’s coming from a place of politeness.
“Jungkook, I want you to come eat with us. Besides Namjoon wants someone to drink saké with him and I cannot keep doing it.”
“I see.” He offers a small laugh and rubs the back of his neck. “Are you sure? You seemed pretty against it before. What changed?”
“Namjoon told me you’re trying to be less of an asshole to me.”
“Did he?” he licks his lips and tries to hide his pleased smile. “I’m surprised you believe him.”
“He also promised me I could punch you in the dick if you make me cry,” you lie, completely stone-faced.
If he knows that’s a falsified statement, he doesn’t say anything. He looks past your shoulder to quirk a brow at Namjoon, who appears to be furiously texting at the table. Jungkook’s phone buzzes a few times against his palm and he’s fairly sure he already knows who it is.
“Come on. I already asked them to bring your food to the table.”
He reads Namjoon’s messages as he trails behind you.
NAMJOON: If you seriously want to apologize stick around, make her laugh, just listen when you need to
JUNGKOOK: Don’t worry
JUNGKOOK: I got u
Before Namjoon can send a text saying that Jungkook's response has the opposite effect, you’re peeking across the table, trying to get a glance at the screen.
“Who’s that?” you wonder. Namjoon’s not usually one to be so secretive with his texts.
“Hmm?” he raises his eyebrows at you and pours you a shot. “Stupid. Don’t worry about it.”
“Ha. Haha. Ha.” You gesture at your face. “You say to the girl with anxiety.”
Crinkling your nose at the glass he offers, you slide it across to Jungkook as he settles in next to Namjoon. “Here. I’m done drinking that stuff tonight.”
He regards it with a quirked brow. Something about your demeanor really has changed, but looking between you and Namjoon does nothing to answer the question of what that may be.
“Okay, so on reddit this guy was reaching. He’s going on about the symbolism in the red scarf—”
Your eyes gloss over the moment he mentions reddit. Is there anything you care less about than Joon’s favorite modern literary discussion threads?
“Got it. Not worrying about it,” you interrupt, bringing your bowl to your lips to slurp some of the broth.
Jungkook hides his smirk by throwing his head back to drink his shot. Namjoon is a genius. It might be scary if he ever decided to use his intellect for nefarious purposes. Lucky for the universe he uses it to protect others, like a real superhero would.
As the three of you dine together, you’re surprised to find that Jungkook isn’t being as annoying as he usually is. In fact, it seems the more he drinks outside of any competitive setting, the more affable he becomes. Maybe there’s something to Namjoon’s clickbaity words. He’s almost the person you remember meeting before the Halloween Party, maybe even more pleasant.
You’re grateful when the two of them start telling embarrassing stories so you can listen and laugh at the way they slur their words and interrupt each other. Laughter makes your heart feel light and full, and brave enough to take the last step to prove to yourself you’re done chasing Jason. As the two men fight over the last piece of gyoza and distract themselves over dessert, you quietly decide to clear your text messages from Jason. Your finger hovers over the delete icon for a second before purging his contact information from your device entirely.
It’s freeing to not have to worry about what you should send him. It’s frustrating to have tried so hard for so long and have nothing to show for it, but at least there will be no conversation history to pick apart anymore. It should feel perfect. That will definitely show him, right? You don’t have to reflect for more than a couple seconds to reinforce the memory of how little he actually reached out on his own.
He still has your number. The only time he ever called was on your first date. He never texted you unless you spoke first. He probably won’t even notice you’re gone. He’s probably relieved he won’t have to answer you anymore. He probably thinks you’re desperate for trying for so long. You don’t realize how well you wear your anxiety.
When you look up Jungkook is watching you while he chews with his mouth wide open. “Hey, why do-” He hiccups and swallows. “Why do you look so sad? You should have some ice cream.”
He scans the table for something to offer you, but he can’t seem to find what he’s looking for in his drunken stupor. After a few seconds his eyes finally land on his own plate where the other half of his red-bean cake sits.
“Do you want my taiyaki?” He holds the tail end of the fish-shaped cake out to you. “It’s really good!”
You can’t help but laugh at the unexpected sweet absurdity of the night. “Jungkook, I don’t want your half-eaten cake.”
He frowns and looks at the pastry. “Is it because I bit it? I’ll break off that part for you if you don’t want your mouth to touch that.”
Although Jungkook definitely is more drunk than Namjoon right now, the older man can’t help but be amazed by how well this is going. He loads up on green tea ice cream and digs his spoon in it. He shouldn’t have been so worried. Jungkook can put away the act when he wants to, especially once alcohol is involved and there’s nothing to prove. You guys are actually getting along. What a relief.
“No, really it’s okay.” You laugh.
Jungkook is already breaking the pastry apart in his hand, watching as it crumbles to pieces on his plate. He blinks a couple times and closes his mouth in a frown.
“I thought that would work.” He sounds utterly defeated.
The waitress walks over just in time to watch Namjoon stick a heaping spoonful of wasabi in his mouth. You're too busy laughing at Jungkook's forlorn expression to notice the way Namjoon's eyes water. His eyes drop to the ice cream he thought he shoveled into his mouth. Right next to the pristine, untouched scoop of green tea ice cream, he finds his spoon resting in the hunk of wasabi adjacent to it. He should really pay attention more. He pushes against Jungkook's side and motions that he needs to get up. The younger man spares a glance his way but Namjoon waves him off while mumbling something about the bathroom.
The waitress tries to keep her composure and looks between the pair of you. "How is everything?"
"Great! Could you please bring us some water?" you ask in your sweetest voice, realizing the two men with you should at least try to start sobering up.
You expected to have Namjoon crashing on your couch on a Friday night, or at least be dropping him off down the hall at Hobi’s place. Jungkook was not part of the plan, but you can’t exactly let him drive home inebriated. You know he’s not your responsibility but you’d feel guilty making him call for a ride home when you’re perfectly capable.
Although you hate to admit it, you’ve had fun tonight. If you’re being honest with yourself you’d like to see what he’s like without Namjoon nearby to police his moves. He’s been nice enough, but you want to know for sure this isn’t an act. You want to ask him if he’s made another bet, or playing some game since he hasn’t hit on you all night. Before you can get your line of questions in order, Jungkook turns to the server with large, pleading eyes.
"Oh! Can you bring some more dessert, please?"
He may be a grown ass man capable of charming the pants off of women everywhere, but right now he is little more than a child begging for seconds. Regardless of everything he's done, your heart softens, endeared and embarrassed by his drunken request to your server.
The waitress nods. "Sure, what would you like?"
His eyes fall to you for an answer. "What do you like?"
You blink at him. "Me? I thought this was for you."
He nods. "Mm. We can split it."
"Um, how about... tempura?"
"Banana?"
Jungkook’s voice is full of anticipation and his upturned eyebrows seem to bargain for agreement. It’s so hard to believe this is the same man who has been so cold to you for so long when he seems so open and warm now. You remind yourself it’s probably the alcohol. It’s probably some secret promise to Namjoon. Some bet with Hobi. Some game he’s playing. It’s probably anything other than what your dumb crush-stupefied heart wants it to be.
The waitress looks to you for approval and you give a nod. "Sure. Banana tempura."
The waitress awkwardly smiles as she gathers the empty platters and gives you a chance to break away from his endearingly drunken face. He smiles across the table at you and wrings his hands while you pick up your phone to check on those nonexistent messages. Maybe if you distract yourself enough you can ignore the feelings that are catching up to you tonight.
“Thank you for inviting me back over,” he says, reaching to the nearly empty bottle of saké to pour himself another shot. “I’ve... been wanting to talk to you."
"I’m surprised you didn’t blow up my phone.” It’s supposed to be a joke, but there’s a harshness in your tone that exposes a venomous bite beneath it.
He downs the shot and plants his elbows on the table, leaning forward on them. "I wanted to say it to your face."
“Oh, really?”
You don’t allow yourself to entertain the idea that he’s about to say anything groundbreaking, but you look away from your phone to meet those dark, twinkling eyes. Suddenly there’s hope in your gut. You’re desperate to put some distance between the feelings jumping to the surface.
“I’ve been a dick.”
“No shit.”
Though the fog of alcohol consumes his apology, his eyes focus on you with clarity. “I’m sorry.”
How long have you waited to hear those words? You never really thought about what you might say in response. His apology sits in the air between you for a moment before he speaks again.
“I’m really sorry. Namjoon is right. I am trying to be less of an asshole to you. We don’t…” he catches himself, “I don’t have a lot of close friends who are women.”
“You don’t say.”
That seems to cut through the fog. He hangs his head and focuses his gaze on the table.
“I never wanted to hurt your feelings.”
“Well, you did,” you mumble.
“I know... I’m sorry.” It’s like now that he’s said it once, he can’t stop saying it. He’s not sure how to make you understand. Maybe you do understand and you just won’t forgive him. Can he really blame you for that?
“Why?” you question; it’s the last barrier protecting your heart, the only thing keeping you from caving. “Why do you care now?”
Jungkook’s head lolls to one side as he sits back against his seat and stares at the nearly empty bottle of saké. “I don’t know. I guess I was thinking… I wish I had a save to reload. Before I messed up.”
It seems that’s the best you’re going to get out of him right now. The waitress sets down a beautiful platter of banana tempura meticulously arranged around a simple mound of ice cream, topped with a single cherry and drizzled with decorative chocolate. She places three waters on the table and you both take a moment to politely force smiles and pause your conversation.
He licks his lips and stares down at the plate and then back up at you. “Can we start over?”
“Depends. Are you gonna go back to being a dick when you’re not drunk anymore?”
“No, no. I mean it. I wanna try to be friends.”
“For real?” You swipe the cherry, pop it in your mouth and tilt your head to regard him. You can’t let yourself fully believe him. You want to. The earnestness in his drunken features charms you, but you hold onto a shred of disbelief as a crutch. You’ll wait for the moment he reverts. Hopefully this time you’ll be prepared for the whiplash that comes along with it.
“For real.”
You reflect on his apology as the pair of you dig into the dessert. “Maybe. Prove it.”
He perks up. He’ll take a maybe. Maybe means the damage he’s done might not be irreparable. The guilt weighing on his conscience feels lighter. It’s a start.
“I will. I’ll find some way to make it up to you.”
You roll your eyes, unwilling to put stock in his words. “Is this another bet with Hobi? About how quickly you can make me forgive you?”
Jungkook shakes his head furiously, wisps of wild black hair whipping his cheeks. “No, I mean it. I promise.”
You drag your lip through your teeth as you teeter on the line of acceptance. “What is a promise from a liar worth?”
He drops the flat of his palm to the table and he pouts. “Hey. I mean it…. Hm. If I break my promise…” His eyes scan the table for anything he can use to change your mind. He looks at his arm pressed against the table and then back at you. “You can choose my next tattoo.”
Your eyebrows rise into your hairline. “Really.”
He eagerly nods. “I’ll get whatever you want wherever you want. Just. Not my face.”
“I want that in writing,” you snort.
Jungkook glances around the table and pulls a napkin from under the plate of tempura. “Do you have a pen?”
“Jungkook, you don’t have to—”
“I’m serious.” He’s not taking no for an answer.
You shake your head and rummage through your purse to supply him with a pen. He smooths out the napkin he’s chosen to use as a conduit for his promise. When he’s finished writing he slides it towards you.
Princess
I’m sorry. I can make it right.
I promise. Please give me another chance.
If I blow it you can choose what & where my next tattoo goes.
As long as it’s not my face. Let’s be friends? #promise.com ♡ Jungkook
Of course he signed it with a heart. Despite his inebriation, his handwriting is still neat. Well, that’s one hell of a promise.
“Okay.” You fold the note and drop it into your purse. “We can try.”
His face lights up as he stuffs a piece of tempura into his mouth, happily chomping with his mouth wide open. He reaches for the saké but you slide a water in front of him instead.
“Friends don’t let friends get totally shitfaced at Hajime.”
He frowns at you but seems to accept your answer with a pout.
“Speaking of which… Where is Namjoon?” You crane your neck to look around the restaurant.
“Friday noodle nights common for you guys?” Jungkook asks, digging into the dessert between massive gulps of water.
“No, not really. We’re usually watching movies at my place or hanging with Hobi. But Namjoon wanted to take me out because I was sad,” you say, finally catching sight of your friend on the other side of the bar.
Jungkook’s chewing slows and he regards you with furrowed brows. “Sad?”
Before you can decide how you want to answer, Namjoon is scooting into the booth next to Jungkook and reaching for a piece of tempura. “Mmmm. What did I miss?”
“Y/N was telling me why she’s sad.”
Namjoon nods like he understands exactly what you’ve been talking about. “He’s a dick, right? Like how do you even stand someone up, not once, but twice? Makes no sense.”
“Joonie—”
“And I know what you’re gonna say, but I disagree. It has nothing to do with you or how you look, Y/N. You don’t need to workout like a maniac to try to change anything. Especially not for someone like Jason. I can’t even imagine—”
“Joon.” You click your tongue and slide a glass of water in front of him. “Please, shut the fuck up.”
As you glare at him, he looks at you with raised brows and wide eyes. Unsure what to do now that he’s obviously fubared the conversation, he casts his guilty gaze to his cup and brings it to his lips.
Jungkook stares at you with furrowed brows, trying to wait to let you fill in the blanks even though he’s itching to ask about everything. He picks another piece of tempura and stuffs it into his mouth, but when you remain silent the impulse to pry takes over. “Jason?”
“He stood me up…” you start, but you close your mouth when you realize you’re going to try to defend him. Your throat feels full, like you can’t get enough air through with a giant knot in it like this. You have to whisper so your voice doesn’t crack. “Twice.”
The couple drinking at the table nearby becomes a much more interesting place to rest your eyes than the two men across from you. Tightening your jaw doesn’t prevent the gloss from coating your eyes. Thinking about it makes you feel so stupid and desperate. Bending over backwards a thousand different ways to accommodate him couldn’t convince him to put in even a minimal amount of effort one time.
Jungkook’s eyebrows shoot up in genuine surprise. “Twice?”
The hurt you feel in your chest scorches your cheeks until anger is filling your head like a teakettle ready to release an unhealthy amount of steam right in Jungkook’s face.
“That’s what I get for giving people second chances,” you snap as you focus back on him.
Joon says your name like it’s a warning but you don’t need it. You feel guilty enough for projecting your anger onto Jungkook with a petty one-liner.
“Sorry. It’s not your fault. I just…” Your throat closes around the rest of the words.
Before an uncomfortable silence can settle over the table, Namjoon inches the bottle of saké with his fingertips until it’s in front of him. “Dating is tricky. Jason sucks. It sucks that he hurt you. But you don’t have to twist yourself into whatever you think he wants anymore. And that…” He pours the pitiful remainder of alcohol into a shot glass and slides it towards you.“...is worth celebrating.”
Jungkook silently nods his head in agreement. It’s obvious you’re on the verge of tears and he doesn’t want to be the thing that pushes you over the edge.
A soft smile curls the corners of your mouth. “That’s true, but…” you slide the glass back towards him and steal the last of the banana tempura. “I can celebrate back at my apartment. Finish your water so you’ll be awake enough to join me. Both of you.”
Jungkook perks up and happily reaches for his water while Namjoon gives you a proud, yet confused look. It seems like a new start to something. What that is remains to be seen.
⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰
Jungkook watches intently as the colors of the city shine through the windows. He runs his fingers over the soft blanket you keep in the backseat, mouthing the words to the song softly playing from your dashboard. Namjoon has been talking nonstop from the passenger seat, which is fine with Jungkook since he’s feeling a little tired. The last session of the day was a bit more intense than intended, but the client left happy and covered in sweat. A success. But Jungkook is sore and exhausted. Physically and socially.
A sense of relief floods him at the memory of his conversation with you. Things may actually be okay from here. Who would have thought crashing your noodle night with Namjoon could have yielded such results?
His head bobs to the music as his eyes wander across the scenery outside until he grows bored and they drift to the interior of your car. A graduation tassel swings from your rearview mirror as you turn. He follows the movement of the tassel when it swings towards you and his eyes land on your face, or at least what he can see of it from this angle.
You look focused and calm while conversing with Namjoon but your posture is a bit rigid and your hands remain planted on the steering wheel in complete control. There’s something about this candid snapshot of your persona that puts him at ease. Your voice is a soft contrast to Namjoon’s, but equally enthusiastic.
He tilts his head as he leans back in his seat, pulling the blanket over his lap and twisting the fabric around his palm. Your eyes flicker in the rearview mirror, catching his. He gives a tiny wave and rests his head against the cushion, fighting the temptation to close his eyelids for longer than a second. The more he listens to you laugh, the more he finds himself smiling. It’s goofy.
It’s also kind of cute.
⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰
Jungkook is surprised when Yoongi answers your knock; he thought he would be asleep. He’s even more surprised when you make yourself at home on his couch and guilt him with a puppy dog pout to make you a drink, and he complies. When Jungkook asks the same, Yoongi tells him there’s beer in the fridge while measuring out the ingredients for your cocktail. The suspicious sour ache of jealousy stabs his gut as he moseys to the fridge but he quickly shakes it off, settling on the floor in front of the tv with a beer in hand.
After a couple hours of drinking, laughing, and playing Jackbox games with the three men, you’re feeling much better about everything. Life is good. Friends are good. Alcohol is very good.
It doesn’t take much to get you drunk. You’re about as much of a lightweight as Hobi and for better or worse everyone has come to know that fact. What’s nice about drinking in Yoongi’s apartment is that you don’t have to walk very far to get home. Things don’t get awkward with the three of them together; it’s actually kind of nice, like a mini Saturday night pregame.
Soon Namjoon and Yoongi are snoring on the couch with a movie playing in the background while you stand in the kitchen with Jungkook. He pours another drink for himself, though he knows it will mostly likely remain unfinished. Tomorrow may bring a massive hangover, but tonight has been surprisingly pleasant. He feels like he’s finally on okay footing with you, maybe even on the road to serious repair. Amazing how well you get along when inhibitions are replaced by inebriation. If that’s what it takes, he’s determined to keep it up.
As he turns his back to place the liquor bottle in the cabinet by the fridge, you swipe a sip of the drink he’s concocted. He spins around in time to see you wrinkle your nose and stick your tongue out.
“Hey, that’s mine!” he pouts.
“Blegh. You can have it. Yuck!” Your face screws up again at the aftertaste.
He drunkenly giggles as he slides the drink closer to him. “What, don’t like sour?”
“Too sour!” You reach for the water bottle Yoongi gave you hours ago and attempt to rinse the puckering sensation from your mouth.
Amused, he tilts his head and watches you take gulp after gulp. He purses his lips and holds back the comment itching to escape, deciding to enjoy a sip of his drink instead. You shimmy out of your hoodie and tie it around your waist and his eyes lazily follow the motion of your arms, noting a slight difference in their musculature. Some errant thought about their shape leads him back to an earlier unaddressed comment that he’s finally comfortable enough to prod you about.
“What kind of workouts are you doing?” he blurts.
Suddenly you feel very exposed. You straighten in your seat and suck in your gut, hyper aware of every imperfection of your body on display to someone so in shape. You immediately begin to fidget with the sleeves of the hoodie you just tied around your waist.
“You don’t have to tell me. I just—” he pauses, exhaling a small breath and looking down at his drink as though he’s wary of continuing the thought.
“No, no it’s fine,” you assure him, too curious to say otherwise. “What is it?”
“When Namjoon said…” he sighs and takes a sip, smacking his lips and licking them before looking back to you. “I thought maybe I can prove myself to you by helping you come up with a plan.”
“You don’t have to do that.” You plant an elbow on the counter and lean on it.
“I want to,” he insists, reaching out for your arm.
His hand is like fire engulfing your skin and your eyelids flutter at the sensation. Instinctively you place a hand over his and rub your thumb anxiously over it. He looks down to where your thumb grazes his knuckles and then back up to your face with a surprised smile.
“Um… Everything,” you say, trying to sound as vague and nonchalant as possible so he doesn’t judge you for your lack of knowledge.
“Like, full body?”
“Uh...” You’ve managed to make a habit of going to his gym a few days a week while successfully avoiding him, but it seems that time is coming to an end. “I… machine.”
“Oh. Like at a gym? Did you join one?” He seems genuinely curious.
“Um, yeah.” Suddenly you pull your hand back when you realize the speed at which your thumb is moving.
“Which one?”
The more you say, the more suspicious you seem, but is saying less any better? Jungkook rests his elbow on the counter and simply looks at you but you don’t look back. A slow smile spreads his lips as the possibility dawns on him.
“Princess… Did you join Iron Kingdom?”
You puff your cheeks and force the air through the tiny opening of your mouth. You don’t offer any sort of confirmation and continue to avoid his gaze.
“And you didn’t tell me?” he playfully prods, drumming his fingers against your forearm.
“I… Yeah,” you admit, your voice small as you stare at the counter. “I didn’t want you to know.
“Why?”
“Because.”
“Because?”
“I don’t want to give you another thing to make fun of me for.”
“I’m not gonna make fun of you.” When you don’t respond he tugs on your arm. The motion is enough to angle you towards him. “Hey. Hey. Hey. Hey.”
“What?” you grumble, staring at your lap even as you face him.
He takes your hands in his and drunkenly waves them around. “Heeeeeeeey. Look at me.”
He pouts until you reluctantly drag your eyes to meet his. “What?”
“Everyone starts somewhere,” he says softly. “Even me.”
The shift in his demeanor catches you off guard and you subconsciously lean forward as you relax. “Well I started with Hwasa, but I was too sore to ask for another session with her.”
He nods sympathetically, clapping his hand over yours. “You should try again.”
You shake your head. “I don’t know. I feel like…”
“Like?” he prods when you let the silence trail for a bit too long.
“I don’t know what I’m doing,” you sigh. “I feel like I don’t belong there. I look so stupid reading the instructions on the machines. I don’t even think I’m doing it right.”
“What?” He makes a sound between a laugh and a grunt. “There’s nothing wrong with making sure you don’t hurt yourself. Nobody knows how to instantly do things. If they tell you they do, they’re lying.”
“Or they’re Namjoon,” you say with a roll of your eyes, glancing over at your snoring friend.
He smiles and clicks his tongue against his teeth in thought. “I didn’t know what I was doing when I started.”
“Really.”
You’re skeptical. It’s always seemed like he was born in a gym. Or maybe hatched. He’s kind of inhumanly gorgeous. Maybe he sprouted from a flower like a mythical god.
“For real. First time doing squats. I think it was gym class? Yeah, I was like twelve or thirteen. I was… not very athletic. Didn’t play sports or anything. Kind of shy. Didn’t really have a lot of friends either…”
The way he trails off makes your heart hurt. Puberty isn’t nice to most people. It’s hard to imagine a world where someone like Jungkook isn’t instantly popular and naturally fit. While you’re not exactly the same person you were at twelve, a lot of your interests and personality quirks have remained the same. You’re still painfully awkward at times. How did he manage to overcome something like that? Is it not ingrained in him like it is you?
“Just a big dork, you know?” He laughs. “I see this girl I had a crush on, Amber. She’s looking at me. I think I have to impress her. So I’m stacking up weight and I think I’m hot shit and go too fast. Know what happened?”
“Please don’t tell me you dropped it on your foot or something,” you plead, squeezing his palms at the way he’s building up the story. The secondhand embarrassment is too real.
“I hear a pop.”
“No!” you gasp, bringing your hands to your face as if you can stop the past from happening.
“And pain. So much pain. I don’t remember putting the weights down but I remember ending up on my back, staring up at the ceiling.”
“Oh no. Knees?”
“Worse.” He points down to his crotch. “Pulled a muscle in my groin. Had to sit the rest of the day with an ice pack on my junk. Was not fun. My point is: don’t give up. You learn more as you go. Give Hwasa another shot.”
His anecdote gives you pause but you’re desperate to cling to the comfort of your anxiety. “My free trial with her is almost up and I don’t think I’ll be able to afford to keep at it.”
“More excuses,” he teases, taking a sip of his drink. “At this point I should just—” His eyes widen, a lightbulb practically forming above his head as he puts his cup down. “I’ll be your personal trainer!”
“Uhh…”
“No, no. It’s perfect. We’re friends now.” He smiles, proud of himself for finding a way to prove himself to you. “I can teach you everything you need to know about working out. I can set up a plan for you and figure out the best way to help you achieve your goals. Oh, man we’re gonna have to figure out your goals. What do you—”
“Hold on. Hold on,” you interrupt with a nervous laugh. “You’re missing the part where I still can’t afford it.”
He rolls his eyes and grabs your glass, holding it under the sink to refill it. “Don’t worry about that. I’ll cover it.”
You’re stunned into silence as you observe the expanse of his back, searching the black fabric of his t-shirt for the definition of his muscles. He sets the cup in front of you, waiting for your agreement. When it doesn’t come, he second guesses himself. Did he overstep?
“I mean if you’re okay with that. Would-would you want to do that?”
The innocent drunken sparkle in his eyes makes your stomach do a flip. When you woke up this morning you hardly thought the day would include getting sloshed with Jungkook and having him offer to take you on as a fitness trainee. It’s like he’s opened himself up just enough for you to see the soft mess beneath. You like it. You like it a lot and you kind of hate yourself for it. While you don’t know if you can trust him past the evening, you find yourself hoping you can.
“You won’t make fun of me?” you ask timidly before bringing the cup of water to your lips.
“It’s my job not to make fun of you. We start where you’re at and go from there. And like I said, I’ll cover the fees for as long as you want. No pressure.” He smiles at you. “What do you think?”
“...Okay,” you murmur with a nod of your head. “If you’re serious, then I’m… I’m in!”
His lips part to expose his teeth as his grin spreads. “Yes!”
As he brings his hand up in a sign of victory, his knuckles knock against his glass. You reach for the cup with impaired reflexes, hands fumbling over the slippery surface in conjunction with his. The sour contents spill across the counter as the pair of you struggle to right the glass. While he’s quicker at getting the glass upright, your brain is faster at processing what to do next and you already have a paper towel in hand, wiping up the liquid as fast as possible.
Your eyes follow the spill to the edge of the counter where it’s flooded over the side. Acting on instinct rather than rational thought, you quickly press down where the liquid has begun to pool in his lap. As you fold the paper towel over, you rub frantically as if the action will keep the stain from setting into the fabric. He shifts in his seat and squeaks out a sound so small that you can’t actually tell whether it came from him or the chair.
It only dawns on you how inappropriate your actions are when you glance towards his face and find his wide eyes gazing back at you. His cheeks, already flushed from inebriation, seem twice as vivid and his mouth is parted slightly as though he means to speak, but he doesn’t. Maybe he doesn’t want to embarrass you, but it’s too late for that.
Your palm stills against his crotch as the shape beneath becomes clear in your mind. For a second you’re frozen, but your lips work quickly to mumble an apology. It feels like an eternity before you will your drunken fingers to release the paper towel. The clearing of Jungkook’s throat is followed by a tiny giggle, then a full on snort. A grin spreads across your lips and you soon follow him into a fit of laughter. You thank the universe for the small mercy of being drunk enough to push your embarrassment to the side for the time being.
“I wasn’t thinking!” you wheeze, tears in your eyes from laughing so hard. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. It’ll dry.” He laughs, dabbing his pants and shirt in the absence of your hand. As he stands he pulls the hem of his shirt away from his torso and looks down at it. “Really. It’s my fault I’m so…”
“Sticky?” You quirk an eyebrow at him, a blatant flirtatious action thinly disguised as a joke as you eye the blot of liquor staining the lower half of his shirt.
Both of his eyebrows raise and a mischievous smile curls the corner of his lips. “...Wet.”
You consider his answer with a pleased hum and turn back to the counter to polish off the last of your water. You’re friends now, right? It can’t be that easy. But it kind of is. So what’s wrong with a little harmless flirting between friends?
Drunk brain, who happens to be a notorious hoe, assures you it’s great. Rational brain might disagree, but she’s taking a well-deserved nap. You’ve at least had a good night. You’re not sure it matters at this point who is giving you the attention you crave. It feels good. So good, in fact, you’re sure you can indulge drunk brain a little more.
You’re drawn to the inky shapes swirling around Jungkook’s bicep as he wipes the counter down. Every time your eyes begin to focus on an object marking his skin with some kind of meaning, he moves and you lose it. It’s brush strokes, isn’t it? You’ve definitely seen a paintbrush and mountains and a knife surrounded by roses. A swathe of grey and purple connects to each one you’ve seen, but you know there are more.
Before you can blurt that you’re dying to know how many he has and how bad it hurt to get them, he turns toward the sink and begins to work his t-shirt up his torso. You watch in awe as the toned muscles of his back are exposed. The image of the bright phoenix does little to hide their definition.
Trying to will yourself to look away is of no use; he’s hot and you’re drunk enough to acknowledge that fact. Of course he peeks at you just as the shirt slips over his head to find you open-mouthed and dazed, ogling him as though there isn’t any shame in the world that could pull your gaze from him. He turns to the fridge to give you a moment to compose yourself, nabbing a water bottle from the shelf in the process. You’re clearly not ready for the way he quickly spins on the balls of his feet to face you.
Y/N.exe has stopped working.
Your fingers hang in the air suspiciously until you lazily drop them. But Jungkook dons a toothy grin and has the audacity to look shy. He mockingly shields his chest from you with the shirt clutched in his hands.
“Princess! Are you… checking me out?”
Somehow you don’t let the fire in your face turn your brain to ash.“Pfft, no.”
“What’re you doing, then?” he teases with a laugh as he sits, scooting his chair closer to yours.
“Counting,” you reply simply, brow furrowed in concentration. To drive the point home, you poke at his flesh everywhere you can make out an object drawn into its surface.
“How many?” he wonders, watching with cloudy, amused eyes.
“Mmm…” You trail your finger down his arm and back up, following the curve of the brushstroke around his shoulder. “Can’t tell if this counts as one.”
He shrugs and rests his head on his palm as he leans against the counter. “What do you think?”
You hesitate when he quickly quirks a brow.
“I think… A lot.”
“Definitely accurate,” he says with a grin.
Awkward laughter steers the pair of you towards your waters. The TV in the background provides enough noise to steal your focus; you’re grateful for the distraction from the attractive man beside you. Drunk brain is telling you to touch him again, to grab his hand, to feel the touch of someone just for the night, to ruin every good thing this night has started to rebuild between you. Anything to stave off the emptiness of your bed, the 2AM thoughts of failure, and the drunken desperation to find someone, anyone, who will fall in love with whatever image you happen to project on your dating profile.
Heart pounding wildly in your chest and blood rushing through your ears, your fingertips tap against the countertop as they inch closer to where his arm rests. Luckily your futile attempts at nonchalance go unnoticed. Jungkook anxiously turns his water bottle over in his hands, trying to gather words in his brain before freeing them from his mouth.
“So…” he begins.
You jump at the sudden sound and retract your hand while he’s not paying you any mind.
“I was thinking. About that guy…”
You wish you could at least pretend you don’t know who he’s talking about. You’ve vented plenty tonight, but still your heart sinks. Deleting Jason’s digital footprint from your life was simple and quick, but the feelings of rejection and disappointment that swirl in the back of your mind spill forward the longer his pause continues.
“I know this probably means nothing coming from me. But I just— I know you liked him, but you can do better.“
Your posture stiffens at his reassurance and you find yourself grateful he’s not looking at you. Do you deserve better?
“You deserve better,” he affirms, as if somehow aware of your internal struggle.
“Thanks,” you murmur with a distinct lack of enthusiasm as you stare down your glass.
It's cry hours, isn’t it?
Realizing you don’t believe him, he takes a deep breath and nudges you with his elbow. “Hey.”
“What.” You refuse to look up because you know you’re on the verge of an irrational stream of tears over some guy you hardly knew. It’s stupid and you know it. But the wet warmth coating your eyes tells you it’s coming regardless.
“I’m... sorry that you don’t feel like you do. Some people can’t get over the weight of their own shit. But that doesn’t mean it’s on you to pick it up for them. If they can’t even bother to carry themselves to meet you halfway, then they’re not worth the effort.”
It’s a perfect time for your heart to seize up and it takes the opportunity to do so. The advice he offers doesn’t stave off the tears, but it resonates deep within you. Namjoon said something similar. It makes you ache to hear it again from someone else. It just leads you back to the same questions you keep asking yourself. What’s so wrong with you that people don’t even want to try? Is it your personality? Physicality? Is it a lack of confidence? What is it?
‘I can’t even get a shitty guy to like me. Maybe I’m the one not worth the effort.’ You don’t dare say those words out loud. Pity isn’t something you’re looking for. A warm body to fill your bed maybe, but not pity.
“Sounds easy when you say it like that,” you murmur, trying in vain to will the tears not to fall. You’re quick to swipe at them and force a smile. “I guess I have trouble giving up on people. It’s not that I’m naive. I try to be realistic. But no matter how many times I get fucked over I just... hope for the best in people. I can’t help it.”
He pats your arm reassuringly. “That’s why you deserve better.”
If only it was as simple as hearing those words and magically being able to believe it. A big chunk of your confidence has crumbled away and there’s no clear path to restoration. As the warmth of his palm comes to rest against your arm, you place your hand over his and squeeze.
“I don’t know if I believe it,” you pause and thoughtfully add, “but thanks for saying it.”
His eyebrows raise in surprise and he offers a tiny, “You’re welcome.”
A shaky chuckle passes your lips. All of his features seem to soften the more you look at them. Maybe it’s the drunken gloss coating his big brown eyes or the way his lips slightly part as he looks back at you. The tightly coiled nerves in your belly urge you to unravel.
Although it's a subtle gesture, he licks his lips as he smiles and it practically seals your fate. If you don't leave now you're bound to do something you'll regret.
"It's late. I should sleep."
Or masturbate.
The speed at which you launch yourself from the seat is unpleasant. You're not sure what's worse: the dizzying vertigo or waves nausea sloshing in your gut. Jungkook's reflexes may be delayed but he's a steady mass of muscle the moment you reach out to steady yourself.
"Whoa. You okay?"
"Maybe," you mumble, finding yourself drawn to the heat radiating from his skin. Instead of walking away, slump down to rest your cheek against his shoulder and sling an arm around him. You might be drunker than you thought. "I don't know."
"Hmm. What do you need, princess?"
"Just wanna stop spinning."
His stance shifts to better accommodate the additional weight you press against him.
"How about you take over Yoongi's bed tonight," he suggests softly. "He's passed out anyway."
"No, I should go home." You peel your cheek from the warmth of his skin.
“You gonna make it there?”
“Yes,” you say indignantly. The world may be a bit wobbly right now, but you’re certain you can handle the short stroll down the hall.
"Okay.” He smiles, loosening his hold. As you step back your foot catches on the leg of the chair and it drags loudly against the floor.
Despite Jungkook’s attempt to keep you standing by grabbing at your arms, he loses his balance and he drops to his knees. The chair clatters to the floor before your ass does. Luckily his grip keeps your back and head far from impact, but you’re too cramped to be comfortable.
“Are you okay?” he asks. Those big, dark doe eyes of his are frozen in fear and a frown adorns his face. He looks so serious it’s ridiculous.
You can’t help but laugh, wiggling backwards to make space between his body and the heat steadily building between your legs. “I’m fine. Stop making that face.”
“Huh? What do you mean?” He sits back on his feet and tilts his head to the side in confusion.
He breaks into a fit of giggles when you dramatically mimic his expression. You roll back onto your elbows, making another ridiculous face to further mock him.
“No, no. It’s more like…” Jungkook takes the opportunity to lean over you, reaching with one hand to squeeze your cheeks to pucker your lips. You blow a disjointed raspberry at him before pulling his hand off to the side.
While the clamor of the fallen chair did nothing to rouse the men on the couch, the sound of Jungkook’s hearty laughter is loud enough to disturb the rhythmic snores of Namjoon.
Jungkook sits back on his heels and peeks over the countertop. He seems miles away, even as you sit up and scoot in to bring yourself closer. Laughter fades into a quiet hum as Namjoon’s snoring resumes.
You're lost in the abyss of his gaze as he turns his head to look back at you. All that remains in your brain at this point is a foggy desire to tug on the silky spirals of his ebony hair until he presses himself against you one more time.
Your hand settles for following the curves of his bicep instead, wondering how it might feel to be wrapped within his embrace. Some might say liquor makes you bold and stupid, and they're right. They should say it. But it also makes you feel invincible, like a goddamn glowing Mario star power-up.
"Princess?"
Enraptured, his eyes follow the motion of your hand as it slithers around his arm and squeezes. Unable to ignore the prompt, he answers with a flex against your palm. His ego swells when you shiver and noticeably hold your breath.
You know it's a mistake. You know it goes against all of your sober judgement, but you find yourself doing it anyway. It doesn't matter that you still harbor a grudge that holds your heart hostage. Drunk hoe vibes are taking the wheel. You’re tired, drunk as hell, and just want to feel wanted. And he's here.
Every fiber of your inebriated being is singing in unison: Why the fuck not?
Heartbeat pounding against your eardrums, you attempt to gauge his reaction as you lean towards him. It's hard to tell from beneath half-lidded eyes, but you think he's leaning towards you too. If he isn't you suppose you can always play it off like you're just a mess. It's not far from the truth. Focusing on the tiny freckle below his lip, you allow yourself to finally close your eyes and go for it.
But the universe isn’t here for your dumb boozy bitch mistakes.
The front door swings open with the sound of jingling keys dropping to the floor. It snaps you back to reality and you freeze, realizing there's no defense that will save you. Jungkook is quick to disengage, poking his head above the counter to acknowledge Hoseok’s presence with a wave. But his friend is completely enamored with the company he’s ushering towards his bedroom.
“Yeah, baby? How bad?” Hoseok whispers to the giggling girl wrapped around his arm.
He pins the stranger against the door to drag his tongue across her neck. Their bodies move rhythmically in a slow grind, a precursor for what’s likely to come. Jungkook purses his lips. How long until one of them notices him watching? It’s not until the girl moans Hoseok’s name softly that Jungkook spares a panicked look towards you.
Oh shit.
You gesture for him to get down before he draws their attention. The last thing you want to explain is why you’re on your knees in Hoseok’s kitchen with a very shirtless Jungkook standing close by. He obliges your silent request, squatting down beside you.
“Feel how hard you made me?” Hobi chuckles quietly.
The girl giggles, her voice growing closer. “You gonna fuck me right here or what?”
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Naughty girl. What if my roommate wakes up? Looks like he has a friend over too. You really want them to see what a dirty slut you are?”
You can hear her giggle as he directs her where to go, failing to keep his voice down so you hear every filthy thing he says after. Your hands fly to cover your mouth. Is your skin made of lava? You want to blame it on the close proximity to Jungkook, but the only thing you can imagine is Hoseok’s dick and the eager mystery woman about to be impaled by it. Can you scrub your brain of this memory? How are you supposed to look at him after this?
Jungkook watches your face carefully, trying his hardest not to laugh. Your eyes look so big he’s pretty sure they could roll out of your skull any second. Are you really so innocent? The way you cover your mouth says you are, but maybe it’s just the shock. Maybe you’re just trying to not laugh. Or scream. Or breathe? It kind of looks like you might pass out.
Are you gonna make it, princess? he wonders.
Once you hear Hoseok's bedroom door close, you fuss your hands over your hair and scramble to your feet, releasing a big exhale. The hushed words fall from your lips while you scurry away like a timid mouse. "I should go."
Despite being too far to make contact, he reaches out as you round the counter. "Wait—"
As soon as the word leaves his mouth he struggles to come up with the rest of his statement. There’s no reason to keep you here, except to maybe laugh a little about what just happened to smooth over any second-hand embarrassment. So why doesn’t he want you to go?
He swallows down the blank space caught in his throat and searches every last crevice of his brain for something of import to say. Guilt weighs his gut down, though there isn’t a clear cause. He’s probably screwed something up again without realizing it.
“Thanks for giving me another shot,” he says softly.
You breathe a sigh of relief and offer a tiny smile as you half turn, your hand already on the door handle. “Don’t blow it.”
He nods with a smile. “I won’t. Goodnight.”
“‘Night,” you mumble.
As soon as the door is closed you practically sprint down the hall to lock yourself within your apartment. Maybe it will also lock out all the mistakes your brain has made tonight.
The world feels colder now that you’re not pressed against the human-shaped heater that is Jeon Jungkook. Thinking about him makes your heart swell and ache at the same time. Regardless of how badly you wish you'd asked him to bed, you know loneliness is fleeting and guilt would be a far worse feeling to be saddled with.
⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰
Jungkook picks up the fallen chair, finding your soft, worn hoodie draped over it. Rubbing a thumb over the material, he considers running it back to you, but he can't remember which door is yours. It's not like he's been here often enough to know. Instead he slips his arms through the sleeves before flipping the hood over his head.
He settles on the floor in the space he previously claimed for the night, pulling a blanket out from under Yoongi's ass. Yoongi rolls his head up, a scowl on his features though his eyes remain closed. He grumbles but lies down, facing the couch.
Jungkook regards his friend for a moment before deciding to drape the blanket over him instead of claiming it for himself. Jungkook rolls onto his side and fluffs the throw pillow under his head. As he watches the credits roll on the TV, he nuzzles into your sweater.
He closes his eyes, thinking of you. He knows he shouldn't linger on the little occurrences of the night, especially with how foggy his brain is. He can't trust anything about his memory.
Still he thinks of the way your fingers trailed along his arm and curled tightly around his bicep. He lets himself dwell on the tiny sound you made, the involuntary tremble of your body, and the subsequent hitch in your breath.
He smiles and inhales the subtle scent you've left behind. A new spark of adrenaline fans flames that inflate his ego, spreading warmth from his stomach up into his chest. The world may wobble around him right now, but the little magical warmth within his gut helps him comfortably drift off to dreamland like he's the world's most immovable object.
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cultgambles · 3 years ago
Text
Yeah She Bad Ain’t She
Why would I wanna keep her to myself
Dabi x Reader x Hawks
Wrote this in Hawks’ POV bc try new things. Enjoy! Also got inspired by some audios on gwa lol but what’s new.
Voyeurism, exhibitionism, public, threesome, mutual masturbation, one (1) gay joke, they/them pronouns for reader, afab tho
WC: 1794
Masterlist | Requests? open
The first time you step into the dingy bar of the LOV, you scrunch your nose at the smell. Cough into your fist, and scan the room with careful eyes. You see Tomura Shigaraki nursing a whiskey at the bar, Kurogiri behind it, Spinner chatting up Twice. Dabi is laid back on the couch, his arm slung around someone you don’t recognize.
“Hawks, our newest member!” Shigaraki says to the team. “Give him every hospitality.”
“Hey-yo!” you say, saluting leisurely as a greeting. Shigaraki introduces everyone, as if you don’t already know who everyone is. Except one person, the one cozied up to Dabi. They introduce themselves as [Y/N]. Someone you’ll have to research on later before you report back to the commission, which makes you sigh silently.
“Come sit! You’re in luck because tonight is movie night!” Twice says.
“Just tonight?” you ask, watching the rest of the members find seats around the small TV.
“Every Thursday!”
“What are we watching tonight?”
“Catch Me If You Can! About that American con artist,” [Y/N] says. “Pass me that blanket, would you?”
“Sounds interesting. And sure,” you say, tossing the Christmas themed blanket at them. You watch as they fluff it out on themselves and Dabi. You push over one of those lounge chairs and flop onto it. Shigaraki queues up Netflix and hits the play button.
About thirty minutes in, you hear [Y/N]. “Dabi, stop,” they whisper, smacking him on the arm lightly.
“What, I’m not doing anything at all.”
“Don’t act all innocent.” Out of your peripheral vision, you swear you see Dabi’s hand move under the blanket, ​​[Y/N]’s hand gripping his forearm.
“But don’t I make you feel good, baby?”
“Don’t ask stupid questions. The problem is everyone is here.”
“Not like we haven’t done something like this before,” he scoffs. “Look, we even got an audience.”
Your face flushes as you listen to their conversation. You barely hear a low groan from [Y/N]’s lips.
“Can y’all shut the fuck up? I’m trying to see what Frank’s gonna do!” Shigaraki fumes, whipping around. A look at Dabi. “Oh.”
“C’mon, boss, don’t pay attention to us, watch the movie,” [Y/N] says.
“This is free entertainment right here.”
[Y/N]’s hips jolt upwards. “You perv.”
“More moaning my name, less talking,” Dabi growls, ripping the blanket off [Y/N]. [Y/N]’s wearing a yellow sundress, that by now, is hitched up above their hips. Their panties are pushed to the side, showing their glistening sex. Dabi’s middle finger and ring finger disappear inside of them, his palm pressing against the clit roughly as he fingers them.
“I-Is this a normal occurrence?” you stutter, face turning the same color as your wings.
“P-pretty normal, yeah, oh, Dabi, right there!” [Y/N] trails off, grinding up for more friction.
“What can we say, we like to have fun here.”
By now, the other league members have turned around, movie be damned.
“How are y’all so casual about this?!”
“Don’t be like that, you’re having a good time too, bird brain,” Dabi smirks, eyes drifting to your growing erection.
“Shut the fuck up,” you snap. But he’s not wrong, both of them have got you so enamored. You hear the squelch and squeaks, the quickening of breaths.
“Dabi, I need you, need your cock,” you barely hear them whisper.
“Of course, doll. Lay down,” Dabi smiles softly, planting a kiss on their lips.
You don’t know if you’d rather be him or [Y/N].
[Y/N] slips down, horizontal on the couch. You eye Dabi as he stands straighter, nimble fingers unclasping his belt and pulling his cock out. It shimmers slightly in the TV light. He drags his cock along their folds, gathering wetness. He taps it against them. Without warning, he slams into them, both letting out a guttural sound at the sensation. His pace is slow, he’s gripping [Y/N]’s hips as a smack smack smack rings out as their bodies meet.
Somewhere behind you, you hear a zipper unzipping. You’re tempted to too, but would that be too soon? Must be, since this is basically your first official day here.
But you don’t deny how good [Y/N] looks taking Dabi’s cock. Hair splayed out, breasts moving under that sundress. You want to rip the dress off of them. Tt hold, knead at the flesh, and lick at the pert nipple. Your eyes travel down their body, where [Y/N] takes him in so nicely. How would they taste, you wonder.
And what about Dabi? Just the size of him could choke you out.
Dabi’s voice snaps you out of your reverie. “C’mon, man, if you’re just gonna stare at them, why don’t you play?”
“Nothin’ wrong with lookin,’” you trail off.
You so want to. Badly.
“Hawwwwkkks,” [Y/N] moans. “Let me taste you. Taste me. Whatever.”
“You heard them,” Dabi drawls.
One beat, and suddenly you’re up, fast as lightning. “[Y/N], let me take your dress off.”
“Okay,” [Y/N] lifts their arms as you pull the dress up over their head, revealing the tantalizing and smooth skin. You toss the dress somewhere to the side of you and rip off your gloves. You kneel beside them on the floor, slotting your mouth against theirs in an open mouthed kiss. Your hands sneak up, massaging their breasts and pinching the nipples.
You feel [Y/N]’s hand snake down your chest, and whimper as their hand grips your clothed cock. You pull away to bring it out. The tip is flushed red, a bead of precum forming at the slit. You stroke your hand down once, and move so your hips are flush with [Y/N]’s face.
“Nice dick,” [Y/N] and Dabi mutter at the same time.
“Jinx!” [Y/N] barks a laugh that soon turns into a moan at a particularly hard thrust.
[Y/N]’s tongue slides on the underside of your cock, massaging the vein there. Soon enough, it’s enveloped in their mouth and you fight to suppress a moan.
“Your mouth feels so good, baby.” [Y/N] hums, taking you in deeper. Their nose nuzzles the hair at the base of your dick slightly. They barely have to do any work as Dabi basically pushes them forward with each thrust. Dabi looks up at you with lazy eyes.
“Kiss me,” you plead, leaning in.
“That’s gay,” he says as he captures your lips with his.
You’ve never kissed a man before. He tastes like old cigarettes and mint. Your tongue slides against his teeth, and finally meets his tongue.
He’s got a tongue piercing.
How many piercings does this dude even have?
You jerk away without warning as [Y/N] does a particularly hard suck.
“Wanna feel their pussy?”
“I couldn’t.”
“Just because you’re new I’ll
let you.” Is this a trick?
You so want to.
[Y/N] pops off of you. “Dabs likes watching.”
“Does that even count since I’m also partaking?”
“I think so. Just get over here, I need your fat cock in my mouth. Not that yours wasn’t also good, Hawks. Just needs to be somewhere else,” [Y/N] says.
“Do it!” you hear.
Damn. You’re so wrapped up in these two, you forgot there was an audience. However, it seems that was the push you needed. You give the a-okay. Dabi nods, clearly pleased by your decision, and pulls out.
You trade places, [Y/N]’s hole flexing against nothing. You bring two fingers down to swipe at the wetness and run your tongue along the digits. You guide your cock in, letting out a satisfied moan at the warmth. [Y/N] squeezes your cock deliciously, and you almost want to come right then and there. You tell them so.
Your pace isn’t as brutal as Dabi’s but still elicits those sounds you're beginning to love out of [Y/N]’s mouth. A sick part of you hopes you’re better than Dabi, and that they will leave him for you.
Or maybe they’ll let you in again? How often do they do this sort of stuff, you wonder to yourself.
[Y/N] and Dabi are holding hands sweetly, their fingers brushing against his charred skin rhythmically.
Your hand moves to rub tight circles on their clit and you're squeezed impossibly tighter as a response.
“You gonna come, [Y/N]?” Dabi asks. “Getting sloppy there. Don’t bite, baby.”
“I’m so close,” [Y/N]’s voice dips off info nothingness at the end, mouth agape. They throw their head back as they move their hips against yours when your body meets theirs. “I want both of you to come inside of me.”
“Wasn’t gonna do it anywhere else,” Dabi chuckles.
“You want me to?” you ask.
“Yeah, fill me up good, Hawks.”
You glance at Dabi. He shrugs. Hope he doesn’t kill you for this.
“Oh shit,” you curse, feeling [Y/N] spasm around you and shudder.
You think Dabi comes at the same time you do. You slow to a languid pace, letting [Y/N]’s walls milk you.
“Good job, doll face,” you watch him lean down and peck [Y/N] on the forehead. “You too, bird brain.”
“Uh, thanks.” You pull out of [Y/N], and they wince at the loss. You tuck yourself back into your pants and [Y/N] wraps the blanket around their shoulders.
“Good show!” Twice says.
“Now let’s finish the movie,” Shigaraki huffs out.
“You have such a one track mind, Shiggy,” [Y/N] says, ruffling his hair.
“I’m just really invested.”
“Yeah, you were invested in us, too,” they say, looking down briefly.
“Oh shut up.” You catch a glimpse of his cock as he scurried to shove it back in his pants.
“See ya round, Hawks,” [Y/N] says, blowing you a kiss. They take Dabi’s hand in theirs and walk up the stairs at the back of the bar.
“Probably gonna fuck some more,” Spinner snickers.
You’re lucky your mic on the inside of your jacket just happened to die before you got up to some frisky business. This has got to be the weirdest thing you’ve been a part of: League of Villains just fuck as bonding activity.
Maybe you’ll keep this one to yourself. You wonder if they would ever invite you again.
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flamingo-writes · 3 years ago
Text
It's Better When The Sun Goes Down — Nanami x Reader
This is a piece for the Anilysium Server NSFW Collab! Make sure to check the masterlist to see other writer's works! This month's prompt was: "I can't hold back anymore"
I'd like to dedicate this fanfic to one of my dearest and closest friends. I'm not a Nanami simp myself, but they are. And I have fun writing for Nanami, and also I love writing angsty things and flawed characters. Reg, I hope you enjoy this as much as you enjoy my more casual writing.
(it's pink bcs youre Chancho)
Word Count: 5.4K
Warnings: Mentions of breakup and heartbreak, alcohol and drug consuption, public sex, ghosting, lots and lots of angst. This does not have a happy ending. This is also non proof read bcs I kinda left it to the last minute I'm sorry, I'll go back and edit it when I am not in a rush dcj nd
Summary: Nanami’s return to the Sorcerer life wasn’t so bad. It could be better if Gojo wasn’t determined to get him back with his ex. As Nanami tries to get on good terms with them, things get out of control, only to end up where it all began.
I made this playlist while writing, in case you wanna listen to it while reading. Preferably listen to it without the shuffle, but you can hear it on shuffle, no biggie.
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Nanami had forgotten how painfully unbearable Gojo could be. His return as a Sorcerer had been nothing out of the ordinary for a Sorcerer's standards. Missions here and there, or watching over some of Gojo's students. But God, he had surely stepped out of the line this time.
He couldn't even begin to explain how much he hated his current situation. Fighting by your side for the first time in years felt like rubbing hot oil on an open wound. The uncomfortable ignoring the elephant in the room between you two, as you two tracked and fought what felt like a million Curses.
When the adrenaline was at its peak, it felt almost nostalgic; though he'd then remembered everything else and immediately made his own reality bitter and awkward. Overshadowed by the advantage of years of experience ahead of him made him resent you even more. He knew it was childish and pointless to keep remembering everything that happened between you two, but that bittersweet memory would most likely keep him at bay.
You were still strong, witty, fearless, reckless and quick to act and defend yourself. The way you moved looked more swiftly and coordinated than you did back in your student days. Almost as if you were a professional dancer. He hated every bit of it. He couldn’t stop looking at you, thinking about you, and the possibilities of what you two would have become.
After the mission was over, no words were exchanged between you two. Aside from the: "Are you alright?" He told you as you simply gave him a thumbs up as you caught your breath drenched in sweat. An entire ride in an uncomfortable silence, until he reached the school and you got out of the car.
"Thanks. You did a great job. Keep it up" You said. Cold, and straight to the point. Closing his car door before he could reply. And soon, you were gone.
As Nanami tried to get his mind off the mission, Gojo made it difficult. He called him to ask for the details of the mission. He seemed amused and intrigued, as clearly you hadn't told him shit. And honestly, he could understand why. Gojo was meddling on things that weren’t his business, and things that had died a long time ago.
"Why are you interrogating me, Gojo?" He asked as he pressed hisnfingers on the bridge of his nose. "Ask your underling…"
"Because that jerk left for the bar as soon as they arrived" He explained. "And I know better than to annoy a drunk [Name], It took me a while but...I finally learned my lesson" He chuckled. “I knew they could hit hard, but damn, I had a big ass bruise…” Nanami could almost hear his stupid grin.
"You make it sound like it's a recurrent event" Nanami pointed out, slightly surprised as he didn't know you were a drinker.
"Oh, Nanami-kun, you really know nothing huh?" Gojo said, smiling widely as he had managed to manipulate Nanami into asking.
"Know what?" Nanami hissed as he now swore he could hear Nanami creepily grinning at his phone.
"No, nothing!” Gojo said as if it were nothing; trying and succeeding at peeking at Nanami’s curiosity “I'm not gonna talk over depressing things on the phone. Gotta go, bye! Kith kith, Kento-kun" Gojo sang and hung up, as he smirked, proud of his little mischief. He sighed deeply as he stretched in his bed. "Soon, those two will be back together" he smirked to himself.
Nanami hissed a curse under his breath as he locked his phone and threw it on his bed and went to the kitchen. If he had understood well, Gojo had just hinted at a possible drinking problem. He tried shaking his mind off of it. You couldn't, could you? You weren’t a drinker...You weren’t the last time he saw you. You were able to party and have fun without having to intoxicate yourself.
You were wild, cheerful, unpredictable. Everything he was not. And that’s what had made him fall in love with you back in your school days. You were so laid back, he could feel it permeating into him when you two hung out. The few times he’d broken rules was because you’d been the bad influence, however, you somehow managed to get away with it, and leave him with some distant memory in which he felt actually glad to be alive. He usually felt like he was walking on a cloud stuck in time, being present and enjoying the little things that made his everyday memories.
He’d really screwed up after breaking up with you...if he could call that a breakup... His life took a dramatic turn. And then, he turned his back to this world, and got immersed in the gray life the average man in Japan had. Away from what he's familiar with, away from his friends, away from you.
And now, apparently, you had a drinking habit. He wondered if he had caused it, or if he was one of the reasons behind it. The guilt started creeping in. The same guilt and regret he felt after ghosting on you. Not being able to bring himself to properly end things with you.
The guilt he’d managed to swipe under the rug for so many years creeped back out, and followed him around as the afternoon went by. After having a shower, changing into more comfortable clothes and in a lame attempt to cook dinner, he decided to test his luck. He put on a dark button down shirt and decided to go to the bar closest to the School. He felt the naive hope to find you there. However, if you had an actual problem, then his chances to see you there were higher.
Such was his surprise to find you there, trying to get rid of some insistent guy who kept talking to you despite your very obvious lack of interest. Before you could spot him, he watched you aggressively turn to the guy and talk to him in a rather rude tone. Sounding almost like a moody sailor as the guy’s face soon was washed with horror and disgust and walked away. As you turned your face back to your drink, your eyes scanned the bar, finally spotting him.
“Oh god” You whined as you pulled the glass to your lips. “It’s too early to be this drunk…” You hissed.
“Mind if I sit here?” He asked, pointing at the chair in front of you.
“Tell Gojo to go fuck himself…” You snapped at him as you stood up and stumbled your way to the bar asking for a refill. Nanami looked at you, feeling slightly sorry for your tipsy state, as he’d never seen you like that. And he knew being mad and drunk was never a good combination. As you turned around with your glass and made your way back to your table, you gave him a slightly repulsed smile. “You’re still here…”
“Gojo didn’t send me here, if that’s what you’re thinking” He replied.
“He might as well have manipulated you into doing so, has that crossed your mind?” You said with a sassy tone as you sat back down. “Why are you still standin’?”
Nanami took that as an invitation as he ignored your last comment, trying to refuse the idea that Gojo had manipulated him.
“Rough day, huh?” He said as you nodded and stared at your drink.
“Look, Kento. I’m glad that you’re back. I really am. You’re strong, and you’re smart…” You began. “But I’m gonna cut the chase, I’m kinda annoyed too. Ever since you got back, Gojo has been sticking his snobby nose into my business” You explained. “Many of the missions he sends you in, I’m supposed to be there as well, but manage to get busy by then and not go”
“So you’re actively avoiding me?”
“Yes” You replied bluntly. “Mostly because Gojo is trying very hard to bring us back together. But no, I learned my lesson the first time” You said taking a sip to your scotch, feeling it smoothly sliding down your throat, no longer feeling the burn from the alcohol.
“I haven’t apologized for that…” Nanami began.
“Don’t” You interrupted him. “It’s better this way”
“Are you sure? Because you still seem to have an issue with it…” Nanami said, managing to read you like an open book like he always did. He still had that ability.
You glared at him, angrily as you opened your mouth to snap back at him, but your mind was foggy and a big portion of your brain was focused on the little details surrounding him. His black shirt, the first buttons undone. His thick wrists, one of them hiding underneath a fancy looking watch, his blond hair pushed back, his sharp features...And god, his smell. The smell of his cologne luring you in like a fly to honey. Since any words made it to your mouth, your next step was to take another sip.
“You’re drinking too fast” He pointed out.
“None of your business” You said standing up and taking your wallet out and leaving a few bills on the tale. “I’m out” You said coldly and walked out of the bar.
Nanami sighed, frustrated that he hadn’t managed to get anything out of interaction. Aside from the pretty clear fact that you disliked him. However, he didn’t think of the possibility of you resenting him so much because you still had feelings for him.
As you walked out of the bar, the chilly wind hit the back of your neck, making you shiver. You cursed, knowing it was going to make you feel drunker faster. You made your way to the school with long steps, trying to make it to your dorm before your last drink made it to your head. Despite the cold wind, the hot tears in your eyes in a way kept your face warm. As you tried to keep yourself from crying, you heard steps behind you.
“Wait” You heard Nanami’s voice calling behind you as you stopped on command, against your own will. You swallowed the lump on your throat and managed to keep the tears still in your eyes, as you refused to look at
him. “At least let me walk you home. You can’t walk on your own like this…”
“Oh, so now you care?” You said turning around and looking at him, giving him a smug smile. “You’ve changed” You scoffed bitterly.
“Please” He said, knowing better than trying to argue with you.
Your stare on him softened, as something within you urged you to say yes. To have more time with Nanami and maybe cling to the bittersweet memories you were constantly reliving since his return.
“Fine” You said, very much to his surprise. He smiled and walked closer to you with the gentle smile that had been haunting your dreams as of lately.
“C’mon. My car is not far from here…”
You stopped coldly as he mentioned a car. Taking a second look at him, you wondered how much he’d changed. He’d become an adult through and through, hadn’t he? While you were still a mess...Or so you thought. To Nanami’s eyes, you were a far better sorcerer and warrior than him. And he envied you for it.
“Are you actually going to take me to the school?” You asked, suddenly growing suspicious of him, as you’d had plenty of experiences with strangers on the street and knew better than going into someone’s car in a drunken state.
Not that you didn’t trust Nanami. You didn’t trust yourself drunk.
“I was actually thinking of taking you somewhere for dinner and then to the school” He said.
“Not hungry”
“No, but you’re drunk. It’ll sober you up, and tomorrow morning you’ll thank me when you wake up without a hangover” He said as he walked towards his car.
“I don’t have any more money on me” You lied, looking for an excuse to avoid spending any more than necessary with him.
“I didn’t ask you if you have money” He said boldly as he managed to make you smirk for the first time since his return.
“Smooth, Nanami. You’ve grown” You said as you followed him.
The walk to his car felt like your chest burnt far more than the alcohol ever did. It felt bitter, it hurt and was nauseating. Was it really it, or was it the alcohol finally catching up with you? Like flashes of instant memories being erased from your memory, the drive to a restaurant felt like a poorly edited foreign film. The car felt like some intense themed park ride as you felt dizzy with the alcohol whispering everything you missed about him. It was gross and it was sickening.
The Ramen sign on the outside on itself managed to sober you up a little by taking your mind off Nanami. As you followed him, clumsily standing on your feet, you sat on one of the tables and tried to make sense of the dancing letters in the menu. More flashes of memories were taken off your head, as you wondered what was happening and how drunk were you for you to start blacking out.
“Not good…” you muttered under your breath.
“Did you say something?” Nanami asked.
“No. Nothing”
“How are you holding up?”
“I’m not”
“You’ll feel better in a bit. Don’t worry…” He said softly as he sipped from a soda you didn’t know he had. When had he ordered it? You looked in front of you to the nice surprise that you had one too despite not knowing how or when. “I ordered some ramen for you. Something spicy...It’ll sober you up faster”
You chuckled as you looked at him.
“And how do you know that?” You asked with a cheeky tone as he smiled softly.
“Went drinking a lot with friends from work” He said. “I learned a few things here and there”
More brief black outs kept lazily painting a rather miserable painting in your memory. As you ate your ramen, you found yourself relaxing more and more. Was it the hot spicy broth? In the beginning, the balck outs weren’t getting any less frequent, however, as the night went by, you found yourself sobering up like he said. Soon, the black outs were gone, however you were still somehow locked in a haze. Although it made sense. The amount of booze as well as the short time, it was going to take a lot more than just one hot bowl of spicy ramen to get you back to a sober state.
The conversation kept flowing comfortably as both of you ate. It was reminiscent of the old days, nostalgic and somehow morbid. As the both of you tried to grasp at the old days when your worries were limited to school work. Catching up like old friends who hadn't seen each other, as if you didn’t have hard feelings for each other.
After having finished your food, Nanami paid for both of your meals and went back out into the cold night. The sky black, stars hidden by the streetlights as you made it to his car and finally noticed the silver color in it.
As he drove back to the school, you noticed he took a small detour, instantly setting alarms in your head.
“Where are we going?” You asked, your voice considerably serious as he noticed the change in tone from the pleasant talk they were having in the restaurant.
“There’s somewhere I’d like to go…” He said as he briefly looked at you and gave you a tender smile.
That smile made your heart uncomfortably skip a beat as you hated the effect he still had on you. You didn’t dare to ask any further as you slowly recognized the route he was taking. As he slowly took one of the roads towards the edge of the city close to the coast line. He stopped in a rather deserted place, as he got off the road and stopped the car.
Despite the lack of light, aside from the few streetlights, you knew exactly where you were. A whole in your chest opened dramatically as you felt your eyes tear up and happy memories attached to the location flooded your mind.
“Kento…” You said chuckling bitterly.
“When I said I wanted to apologize, I meant it…” He said as you clenched your jaw and looked out your window, avoiding his stare.
“And I told you I didn’t want to talk about it…”
“You’re still upset about it, I get it. And I don’t blame you” He began as he felt his heart beating hard in his chest. “Look at me, please”
You wanted to say something to him. But you knew you would break down crying as soon as you opened your mouth. You took a deep breath and without saying anything you looked at him. His dark brown eyes gazing into yours, as he was looking at you with a rather pained stare.
“You remember this place, don’t you?” He asked.
A bitter laugh escaped your lips as you clicked your seatbelt, getting it off.
“I’m done” You said dryly as you opened the door and got out of the car.
“No, [Name]. Please, wait” He said as he mirrored your movements and excited the car walking around it.
“Of fuckign course I know where I am, Kento” You barked as you walked away approaching the door. “I know where I lost my fucking virginity, okay?” You barked as you stopped coldly and looked at him, tears finally streaming off your face. “Look, I’ll make us a favour and summarize this conversation. Yes, you’re a fucking asshole for just taking off one day and completely disappearing. Yes, I’m still mad about it. No, I won’t take your apology. No, I don’t care about whatever shitty excuse you have for me to listen to you. You bringing me here out of all places isn’t going to change shit…” You spat all in one breath as you stopped and took a deep breath.
“I loved you, Kento. I really did. And it hurt to have you just dissipate like you were a hallucination or something...You were my first kiss, my first love, my first everything! And one day I lost all of that. You ruined sex for me!” You yelled angrily. “I could never hold, kiss or sleep with anyone, because at some point I’d see your stupid face, and then be incredibly underwhelmed because I would not enjoy sex. I can’t feel anything anymore, Kento...The only way I can actually enjoy those things is by getting drunk or high” You admitted. “I can’t walk into bookstores, nor eat sandwiches or diet coke, nor drink tea because all those things remind me of you. And yes, it’s lame that all these years later I still care about those things. And this is why I can’t forgive you” You cried, as your voice shook.
Nanami’s heart broke little by little at each one of your words. He knew he’d screwed up and had hurt you deeply. But he wasn’t aware of the actual impact. He clenched his jaw as he felt his chest tight and a lump on his throat. Now the drinking problem made sense. Gojo had painted it like you were an alcoholic, but it wasn’t exactly the case. So you’d gone to the bar to get it off with some stranger, probably pretending it was him.
The dizzying pain and weight of his mistakes blinded him for a second as he walked towards you as you kept bitterly complaining. As you tried to walk away, you made a very poor effort as he caught up with you and cupped your face in his hands, bringing you closer to him and shutting you up by pressing his lips against you.
The sudden surprise made your heart stop. Your mind turning numb and blank at once as you struggled to bring yourself to push him away. However, truth be told, you didn't want to push him away. The poor attempt to push him away was more than obvious. The strong fighter you were, barely making any physical effort. Nanami's hands wrapped around your back and pulled you close, squeezing you against him as he sighed into the kiss.
Finally kissing him back, you locked your lips against his desperately, eager to taste the lips you've been dreading in your dreams. Clinging to him like he was going to disappear again, a soft whimper escaped your mouth. Your chest pressing against him as he felt his own world getting blurry.
He broke the kiss pulling away as he pressed his forehead against yours.
“You have no idea how much I missed you” He whispered as you clung to him.
“I-I…” You stuttered, the words tasting bitter before they even made it to your mouth. “Fuck, I want you, Kento” You growled as he pulled you in, kissing you hungrily again.
His hands posessively clinging to you as he slowly guided you back to the car. One step at the time as you both melted in a hungry sour kiss. As you ran out of breath, you pulled away, gasping for air as you gripped his collar in your hands.
“I can’t hold back anymore” You said as you pulled away and grabbed his hand, walking back to his car.
Your words unleashed a shiver down his spine as his heart skipped a beat and raced like crazy, as his pants started feeling tighter on his crotch. He chuckled softly as he realized his own judgement seemed to have disappeared with that first kiss. And before you could even make it to his car, he gripped your hips and spun you around as he bumped his forehead against yours.
“I can’t either” He admitted as he guided you to the car’s hood and pulled you over it. Ass you sat on the warm hood, he got between your legs and you wasted no time wrapping them around his waist. He grunted softly feeling your crotch against his as you pulled him closer to seal your lips together.
As you soon were absorbed by the dizziness of your rising heat, his hand went to your bare thighs as he slowly caressed your skin, going up and lifting your skirt up in the process. A soft moan slid into his mouth as he gripped your ass softly and squeezed it. The way your skin got covered in goosebumps and how you jerked your hips made him moan in response.
It felt good, and intoxicating. The driving desire burning his insides. The feeling of desiring to taste you all over and have you shaking underneath him. God, he’d missed that particular rush of adrenaline. His body reacting to the deeply buried memories now loose. He felt like he was in the best high he’d experienced. Lightheadedness and presence in the moment, he hadn’t felt this alive in so long.
Your hands were slowly undoing his buttoned shirt and were quick to explore his warm skin. He pulled away from the kiss, gasping as he looked at you. Your devilish smile matching your hungry stare. You leaned forward kissing his neck, nibbling on his skin every now and then. His hand gripped your hair tightly, pulling it lightly, making you look up at him as he stared at you.
He leaned forward, kissing you once more, this time a lot more slow and a lot more tender. It was sweet and it was slow and it took you by surprise. You felt his sweet kiss begging you, still holding on to the feelings you both decided to drown unsuccessfully. It almost hurt. It was the kind of kiss that told you how much you missed and needed each other. How much you regretted the mistakes you’ve done.
As you melted against his lips, his hands slowly slid your panties off. You helped him lifting your hips a little but as you giggled against his lips.
“Eager?” You said with a playful smirk.
“You have no idea” He replied as he took off your panties and shoved them in his back pocket.
His hand made it back to your thigh, slowly going up until he palmed your hot sex. Stealing a gasp out of your mouth, he teasingly ran one of his fingers through your dripping slit, making him smile satisfied.
“I’m not the only one, huh?” He said as you looked at him with lustful eyes.
You took his glasses off and set them aside. You were about to go back to kissing his neck when he slid one finger inside of you effortlessly. A rather loud moan escaped your lips as you shut your eyes closed feeling your entire body tingle in a way you hadn’t felt in years. You smiled satisfied as you continued kissing his neck. Slowly, he got another finger inside. The delicious stretch of his second finger prompting you to bite his neck softly making him growl your name softly. His fingers explored the whole he knew so well, as he found your sweet spot almost by muscle memory. More moans came out of your throat sounding like music to his ears.
“Fuck, Kento” You hissed as you took off your top, not caring that you were outdoors and by the road. Up to this point, you were so pent up, you simply craved him like you’d never craved anything before.
Nanami wasted no time and kissed your neck, going down to your neck, gently biting your skin every now and then. Sucking delicately on your skin, leaving marks that wouldn’t last long. He pulle dhis fingers out of you, clinging to your body desperately. As you laid on the car’s hood, you devoured him with your lustful eyes, begging him to get on top of you. Wearing just your skirt by this point, Nanami groaned at the plain sight of you.
He undid his belt and his pants. Your hands playfully teasing your own body in an attempt to drive him crazier and crazier. He cursed under his breath as he couldn’t take it any longer. He pulled his painfully hard erection out of his pants. You watched hi, intrigued, stretching your hands towards him, gently gripping his dick. His breath hitched and you smiled proudly.
Nanami leaned over the car hood, slowly getting on top of you, his shaft resting on your belly as he looked at how much deep could he go inside of you. His tip almost reaching you belly button, as the idea alone made a shiver run down his spine.
"Please, Kento" you gasped, need dripping from your voice as you caressed his dick
He growled softly as he pulled away softly, aligning against your entrance and slowly going in. You gasped, pushing your head back and pressing your hips against his making him go deeper.
Hissing your name, he jerked his hips, his tip.kissing your cervix as sudden rush of pain jolted through your body, followed by pleasure. You dug your nails in his shoulders as he thrusted back and forth, hitting all the right spots. The sound of his gasps and grunts hypnotizing as you got wetter by the second. His length coated in your juices, echoing in lewd wet noises.
He was rough. He usually was. Back in student days, he was particularly rough. As quiet and collected as he seemed, he sure got his stress out if his body through wild sex.
Relentlessly pushing against you, stretching you in such a delicious way only he knew how. Strong and aggressive movements as your walls swallowed him whole every time, breathless moans escaping your lips with every push. The cool wind kissing your skin, only enhancing his warmth.
As you felt your orgasm progressively approaching, the realization of how addicted you were to him hit you. He was everything you desired. And it was wrong. Before the feeling of uneasiness started to sink in, a sudden electric rush ran through your body. Painfully and soothing, as you tightly clenched around himbsoon numbed your mind.
As you came around him, your walls sucked him in tightly, as he was right over the brink, your velvet flesh pushed him off the edge. He didn't have time to pull out. And honestly, he didn't want to pull out. The way your walls milked him felt delicious. As he rode you through your orgasm, filling you up as his head felt dizzy and the world was spinning faster than usual. His hot seed coating your insides, as you shut your eyes closed, feeling the very last of your orgasm fading away.
He pressed his forehead against yours. Loud pants echoing.
However, the world didn't quite return to its regular focus.
The rest of the night went by in a fuzzy hot mess of events. You returned to his apartment and kept feasting on each other, making up for the lost time. Both of you incredibly starved and needy, you desperately went at it over and over again. It was a rather long night. As you feared, no one made you feel as he did. All of him was addicting. His smell, his voice, his warmth, his skin...It didn’t matter how many strangers you fucked, or how drunk or high you were, he felt just right. He made you cum so easily, it seemed ridiculous everyone else couldn’t.
But you knew it was far more than that.
You were still deeply in love with him. No wonder why he had that effect on you. Just hearing his breathlessly gasp was enough to have you soaking wet and under his mercy. Between sweet kisses, fake promises and sweaty sex, he quite literally fucked you to oblivion. Until either of you could take it any longer and you two fell asleep in each other’s arms. It had been a long tiring night, as you knew many of your muscles were gonna be sore the next day. Your chest painted in red and blue bruises.
It was possibly one of the best night sleeps he’d had. In such a long time. The uncomfortable hole in his chest didn’t feel so wide now. Just like you, he didn’t know how much he actually needed you until now. His regrets, his guilt, the thoughts haunting him on how much of a jerk he’d been when he simply took off...All those feelings went away for a night. As he tasted the wonders of the universe under your skin. Feeling ecstatic and euphoric for the first time in years. However, nothing could’ve prepared Nanami for what he was about to experience when he woke up.
~
“What the hell is this?” Gojo asked as he waved around the folder you’d left a few hours earlier in the Headmaster’s office.
“Why the fuck do you care?” You said as you grabbed it, ripping it off his hands.
“You’re seriously leaving for Kyoto?” He whined.
“So my transfer was accepted? Great!” You said sarcastically as you opened the folder and saw the Headmaster’s seal at the bottom.
“What about Nanami-kun?” Gojo replied as the very last string of your patience snapped.
“Oh, fuck you, Gojo! You tried to force us back together, but it’s not going to happen” You snapped. “I’m done. I’m done with him, and I’m done with you sticking your nose in my business”
“Do you really think that running away will solve anything? You’ll still be depressed as hell”
“The less I know about him, the better” You said as you turned around, hot tears blurring your sight as you headed with long steps towards your room. “I don’t trust myself around him…” You whispered. “He’s my weakness Gojo, I can’t let that happen…” You said coldly.
You’d left that morning very early, before Nanami woke up. And you left leaving no trace of you ever being there. Unintentionally doing the same he did. It was unintentional because you hadn’t done it out of spite. Your thought process had been simply. You preferred to not have that conversation and simply leave without him noticing. You had had the exact same thought process Nanami had had all those years ago.
You didn’t waste time and soon started packing your things to leave for Kyoto right away.
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k3rm1e · 4 years ago
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dadza & sbi
a continuation of yesterday’s ask-
hiiii i know i haz been lurk 🐮 Anoon for a good bitz but I haz an idea fro DadBoyHalo and Dadza(sepretz courze!!) havingz to take care of their very chaos childrenz(DadBoyHalo wif Sapnap + reader, Dadza with SBI + reader) ówò?
Thankz yuuuu!!!
-🐮 Anoon
🐮anon i am here with dadza! thank you for the patient waiting ;-;
i am referring to the samsung refrigerator as sam bc i have no clue what to address her as (゚ω゚;)
this also went off track but whatever lmao
cw: swearing
dadza:
phil did not expect this when he decided to have kids. in the beginning, he was only planning on the one. wilbur was the sweetest kid ever when he was born. never caused any trouble, was peaceful. hell, the kid seemed like he would rather play music 24/7 before yelling at a single person. then again, his wife was always too caring.
when he traveled to the nether with sam, taking his son with him for the first time, he didn’t expect to acquire another kid. they were walking along an old path that had been made year before, when suddenly wilbur started shouting, pointing at a small pink figure.
the baby piglin was surrounded by bigger, larger piglins. they were trying to take his gold as he fearfully warded them off. sam, with her large heart, urged phil to go save the child as she protected wilbur. through a long fight with grunts and yells, he had saved the kid.
“hello, young one. are you alright?” the piglin regarded him suspiciously, not knowing if he would hurt him. phil, from the corner of his eye, saw the kid eyeing the gold on the ground. “you want your shit back, mate?” phil turned around and quickly picked up the goods. “here you go, kid.” and from there, he had suddenly acquired another ward.
within the next few years, tensions rose. the young piglin, who phil had named technoblade, was slowly learning english. he wanted to learn how to fight, to protect himself and not end up in a situation like the one phil had saved him from. sam did not approved of this, ever the passive refrigerator. phil and sam argued nearly all the time. wilbur and techno began spending more time together, out of the house.
“techno, it's not your fault. you know that right?” wilbur was walking with techno, his guitar on his back. the house was no longer a good place to hangout, so they walked into town.
“well of course its not, wil. i know that, at the very least. i’m just trying to protect myself, the same as phil does. in the future i could even win competitions, make us some extra money.” the two boys were walking and talking, when suddenly they ran into a loud blonde kid who was with someone else they couldn’t really see.
“hey! watch where you’re going, kid!” wilbur yelled a the shorter blonde, who knocked him over.
“oh, fuck off, will you? i didn’t mean to, you don’t have to be a prick about it.” wilbur looked flabergasted at this, a kid much younger than him having this type of mouth?
“hey! do not fucking speak to me that way, do you understand?” wilbur pointed at the two kids, looking like a so-called ‘karen’ in the internet compilations.
“oh come on, dude, you just swore and you look only a few years older than me! don’t be a fucking hypocrite.” you looked sternly at the brown-haired male, watching his mouth open and close, like a fish.
“wilbur, you know we both swore at that age. give them a break, will ya?” techno was smirking at the two of you, knowing he was pissing wilbur off.
“ugh, whatever techno. fuck off, mate.”
the two boys continued walking into town, done with the conversation. but your blonde friend, apparently, may not have been. “c’mon! let’s follow them!”
“uhh, why tommy? it’ll bring us nothing but trouble.” you were confused at what tommy was getting at, but you knew it was nothing good.
“and? trouble is my middle name, obviously.” he grabbed you hand and began dragging you in the direction the boys went.
when you arrived in town center, wilbur was seen talking to a shorter girl, while the piglin was arguing with a figure wearing green. tommy turned to you, “i’ll go talk to the cool one, you can go talk to the cunt who berated us for swearing.” knowing that once tommy made a decision he wouldn’t change his mind, you gave in.
walking over slowly, you noticed when you caught the boy’s attention. he looked over to you and his face darkened. “not you again… what do you want?”
“who’s this?” the girl he was talking to you looked over to you. you smiled at her and told her your name. “that’s a nice name. i’m niki.”
the two of you shook hands and she moved over for you to sit down. wilbur, begrudgingly, allowed you to sit and chat with them. for about three hours, you all sat talking. after a bit of pleading, wilbur had pulled out his guitar and was playing you a song.  that was, until tommy ran over with techno as they were being chased a boy with a smiling mask, a boy with a white headband, and one with strange glasses.
“techno! what the fuck did you do now!?” wilbur stood up and began yelling at the piglin.
instead of a response, he was met with tommy screaming, “STOP CHASING ME, YOU FUCKIN’ BITCH! THIS IS CHILD ABUSE, I AM A MINOR!!! A MINOR!!”
“god fucking damnit, tech!” wilbur jumped up and dragged you with him. now all three of you were running from the boys.
once you had arrived in the forest clearing, wilbur was immediately on technoblade and tommy’s asses about what had happened.
“what. did. you. do.” wilbur was staring at them, his hands on his hips.
techno tried to explain, before tommy cut in “wilbur, i have done nothing. i was simply being a respectful citizen-”
“those terrible cunts were being terrible bitches to us, wilbur! they were threatening the blade here, saying we couldn't fight. but i showed them!” tommy seemed incredibly proud of himself.
“techno, what did this demon child do?” wilbur was staring at nothing, looking dead inside.
“i am now participating in a duel with dream tomorrow, at 4:20 P.M.” wilbur looked extremely pale at this, like he was begging god for mercy.
the four of you walked back to phil’s house. wilbur felt too guilty to leave you guys in  town, especially when tommy had gotten into a fight with dream.
when you arrived at the house, phil immediately pulled you in, seeing that you guys were covered in cuts and bruises. when you went in, sam was nowhere to be seen.
“what the hell happened? why are there two very dirty children with you and why is techno smirking like that?”
after an explanation from the two of, phil began tending to your wounds. “wilbur, techno, go clear out the guest room for these two. we’ll talk more tonight. once you and tommy were nicely bandaged and clean, you were sent to the guest bedroom.
“you think we’ll be safe here, tommy?” you turned over to look at your friend who was in the bed across from yours. for years, you had been living on the streets, surviving off the bread the nice lady would provide you with.
“of course we will. we’re big men, you know that. besides, did you see techno over there? we’ll be just fine.”
“thanks tommy. love you, mate.” you smiled at tommy.
“night. love you too, big man."
in the morning, at the duel between technoblade and dream, it was suspenseful. even when you felt like he would lose hope, techno pulled through. even if sam had left and and was now in the dump, phil knew it would be okay. he acquired to new kids and would make sure they had a better life than the one they had before.
i hope you liked this one 🐮 anon! <3
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yourmcu · 4 years ago
Text
Emotional Support Mode
Pairings: Tony Stark x daughter!reader
Summary:
in which the reader is the loner, antisocial daughter of Tony Stark and the other Avengers including her father never acknowledge her presence (they thought some sort of interaction made you uncomfortable) so she becomes friends with Friday instead - Tony probs finds out and it’s gonna be all cute n fluffie once he realizes -
Word count: 2,243
a/n: hi just wanted to write fluffy tony :)) also I used they/them for friday’s pronouns
Warnings: angst n fluff, friday’s a bit more advanced (not like they aren’t already but) bc they could almost act like a literal human here.
read it on ao3!
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You arrive back at the Avengers facility, shoulders slumped and just tired in general since you have a lot of homework and projects to do from school, most of them due by the end of the week. You also have exams later in the week.
“Hey, Fri,” you huff as you make your way to the elevator.
“Welcome home, Y/N. Where do you want to go?”
Yes, you're very close with the A.I that they started calling you by your first name. “To my room - and uh, will you remind me to read two chapters in my history book after I’m done with all my homework? I also have this project, I just need some measurements later, if you don’t mind.”
“Sure thing.”
“Thank you.”
It’s going to be a long night, you sigh heavily just thinking about it. Now you’re probably wondering, ‘you live with the Avengers! Why don’t you ask Tony and Bruce for help? Maybe Steve and Bucky for your History test?’
Yeah, well... you barely talk to any real person you live with. Maybe it’s you, you always thought you're making the team uncomfortable. You don’t even talk to your own father often which is kind of depressing on your part.
You love them, they’re like your extended family, but it just isn’t working out. Maybe they just don’t like you. Up to this day you still wonder why Tony took you in when you were just a baby (you were a mistake from one of his one night stands) - he had the choice not to.
“I’m assuming you zoned out again. You have arrived to your room five minutes ago.” Friday announces.
“Y-yeah sorry,” you shuffle out of the elevator and swiftly head to your bedroom, closing the door behind you.
“I also asked if I should inform Mr. Stark that you have arrived home.”
“No, no thanks. He’s busy and... probably wouldn’t care anyway,” You mutter the last part as you pile the books you need on your desk. “Can you put my study playlist on, please?”
----
“What time is it, Friday?”
“7PM. I was about to remind you to take a break.”
You get up from your chair and stretch, halfway through the last of your homework which is a two page essay. “You’re too kind, thanks pal,” when you walk out your room to head to the kitchen and grab a snack, the lounge is empty, kitchen empty,
“The team’s on a mission? I thought they had the whole week off,” you say before gulping down a water bottle.
“I checked the security footage: they left about an hour ago. Captain Rogers was talking about getting dinner.”
You put the bottle down. “Oh,” you try to mask your disappointment. This isn’t your first time being alone, they always left you here when they had a mission of course but... well, it’s not like they want you around them. “I’ll - I’ll just make myself something later, then. Not a big deal. I have to study anyway.”
Another hour later, the Avengers are back. They're all conversing happily as they pile in the lounge. Peter's rambling about upgrades for the Spiderman suit while Tony's typing away in his phone, nodding at everything he says. Everyone else is arguing about the TV channels and talking about the new restaurant they ate at.
Rhodey shifts, looking around. “Why do I feel like we forgot something?”
Natasha looks at him, waiting for him to go on.
“I assure you, I brought Mjolnir with me this time.” Thor butts in.
“No not that, what time does Y/N get home from school?” No one answers. It’s not like any of them know. It's natural that Rhodey would be worried about his goddaughter (even if they rarely talk). He turns his head to his best friend who’s now walking away with Peter, an arm around his shoulder. “Tony, where’s Y/N?”
He doesn’t hear since he has his full attention on his protégé.
“I’ll start making this tomorrow, I guess. I still have to buy materials.” You mumble to yourself, but you hope Friday's listening to everything you say just to make you feel less lonely. You swipe the hologram of the blueprint away and place the thick books in front of you.
“I would like to recommend a suitable study plan.” they state.
You rub your eyes, sighing, “I’m already halfway, I would’ve considered it earlier though.”
“This is only a recommendation, feel free to ignore it.”
You push yourself away from the desk and mutter a “go on,”, fiddling with your pen.
“Asking Mr. Rogers and Mr. Barnes would give you more details for your History examination, since the pair were originally from that time period. The same goes for Mr. Banner for your Science examination, I believe he has seven Ph.D’s, you may also approach Vision for the same topic. Mr. Stark has all the necessary materials for your project in his lab. Would you like me to-”
If only it were that easy. It should be easy, the thought alone makes you really nervous. “No, I - I appreciate the recommendation, Friday, but - I think I can do this on my own.”
“But you’re tired and it is almost midnight. I would help you myself but you specifically told me not to.”
They’re not wrong. Your eyes are starting to droop and you barely understand anything you're reading. You're also fighting back tears - why is talking to your family so hard?
“I can sense sadness. Would you like me to activate emotional support mode?”
“Yeah, okay. That sounds great right about now.”
----
“Crap. Guess we lost track of time again, kid,” Tony wipes his hands with a rag while he looks at the time on his computer. “You better get home. I’ll send May a text for keeping you this late.”
“Okay, thank you Mr. Stark. I’m just gonna use my suit-”
“No. Happy will drive you.”
Peter knew better than to argue and insist so he just nods and smiles sheepishly. A minute later Happy came ‘round to take him home.
Tony turns back around. “Friday, make a new project for me please, I’m adding minor upgrades to the Spiderman suit.”
“Not now, boss.”
Oh. He did not expect that. “Excuse me?”
“Y/N is currently opening up. I would like to give her my full, undivided attention. Please come back after fifteen minutes or so.”
Tony doesn’t exactly know how to feel about that. He never sees her outside her room anymore that he kinda forgot she existed tonight - oh fuck, they didn’t bring her to dinner with them.
“Well,” he exhales. “What is she saying?”
“That would be an invasion of privacy.”
“I’m her father-”
“Are you, sir?” Friday’s clever remark makes him stop abruptly.
It’s pretty clear that he’s been a shit father. Not only does he ignore you all the time but he treats Peter way better than his own flesh and blood. The Avengers on the other hand, they were nice people, but just didn’t understand so they try their best to get out of your way.
You were afraid of rejection, afraid to interact, because you had no idea what everyone thought of you. Did they like you? Did you make them uncomfortable? Did they want you around? What about Tony, did he really want a daughter in his life? Because you noticed he’d be better off with a son, yeah, like Peter goddamn Parker.
Tony sighs, walking out of his lab and heads to the mini bar to grab a drink. He needs to think: there's absolutely nothing wrong about you, he just didn’t do his job right, you thought he didn’t care, you thought nobody did. Even Friday is turning against him, doing a better job of comforting and being there for you.
“God, I’m such an asshole,” he mutters to himself, rubbing his forehead. He drinks his last shot and heads to the kitchen. “She still awake?” He calls out.
“She is.” Friday has a bitter tone.
He's hesitant to ask again, feeling really bad for not knowing this simple question - “what’s her favorite beverage?”
----
“How do you feel?”
You sniffle. “Well y’know, better than before. I should probably go to sleep. Thanks, Fri.”
“You’re welcome. Also, Mr. Stark is outside your door.”
“W-what?” You put away your books and straighten up, rubbing your damp eyes. “You’re serious? Okay, uh, let him in?” It's more of a question.
“Alright.”
You turn to face your desk as Tony enters the room, holding two steaming mugs. He sits at the end of your bed, just right next to the chair you're sitting on. “Hi,” he gives you a small smile and hands you a mug.
What’s the occasion?
“What’s this?” You ask quietly before taking the mug from his hands. Tony's being gentle and soft, it's odd but you’re not complaining.
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“Green tea with honey. I... I thought I saw you make that stuff once.” He says, not mentioning the fact that Friday told him that.
“Oh, well, yeah,” you take a small sip. He added a bit too much honey but other than that it was good. “I thought you preferred coffee, though,”
Tony shrugs, his eyes glistening when he looks at you. “Wouldn’t hurt to try something new.”
“Did - did you want something, Dad?” You always found yourself awkward, couldn’t even make conversation with someone for long, always wanted to get straight to the point so it could be over with.
He looks like he wants to say something but he just averts his gaze to you, his hands, the floor, then suddenly he leans in and hugs you. Your feel your heart swell and body warm up, it’s a new sensation for you after all, you rarely get hugs from people. “I’m sorry,” he whispers. “For everything. I’m such a bad dad, I don’t deserve you. I even forgot you when we went out to dinner.”
“You don’t have to be sorry for anything. I had loads of stuff to do earlier anyway, so, but yeah I was just - I just overreact, I’m sensitive. I don’t blame you and the others for not liking me, I know there’s nothing like-able about me, I’m not like Peter-” You ramble, tears now leaving your eyes again.
“Sweetheart, don’t say that,” Tony says as he pulls you closer to him, head resting against his chest while he rubs your back comfortably. “Y/N Stark, you are smart, brilliant - I was just an ass for not acknowledging that.”
“I know you’re just saying that to-”
“Oh, but I’m not,” he now places his hands on your shoulders, getting you to look at him. “Tell me who built their first engine when they were eight?”
You blush, “Dad-”
“No, come on, I wanna hear it.”
“I did.”
“Yes you did. And who made a completely functioning robot at their middle school science fair that blew all the teacher’s minds?”
You’re trying to hide a smile, recalling the memory,  “I did.”
“And who,” Tony gets up and walks to the bulky looking thing that you covered with a sheet, pulling it off, “is currently building a computer from scratch?”
“Dad! That’s still a work in progress,” he messily places the sheet back and chuckles.
“My point is, you’re a clever and talented girl, Y/N. Don’t bring yourself down. And you don’t have to be shy around your family, those idiots have been dying to get to know you but since you don’t talk much... they don’t want to force it. We love you,” he says. “I hope you forgive me ‘cause I really wanna make it up to you. I’m not calling Peter in for a few weeks.” Tony sits down beside you again.
You couldn’t believe he’d do that for you. “You don’t have to, if you need him for something then-”
“-then you could help me instead, if you’re up for it.”
“I’m really sorry for being such a lonely freak,” you yawn, getting back into Tony’s open arms. “I love you.”
Tony tucks you in and lies down beside you, “I love you tons, kiddo.”
You snuggle into his chest, feeling his steady breathing while he rests his chin above your head.
----
It's morning. The Avengers are gathered at your open bedroom door.
“Are you getting all of this, Friday?”
“Yes, Ms. Romanoff.”
“Steve turn that shuttering sound down!” Natasha hisses at the super soldier who's doing his task, taking pictures.
Steve almost drops the phone and has Bruce fix the volume for him.
They’re all watching you and Tony cuddle together, still fast asleep.
“Do we have to stay here until they wake up?”
“Unless you have a great way of waking them up, yes. Now shut up.”
“If you think about it we definitely look creepy right now.” Sam comments.
“It’s their fault for having the door wide open all night!” Clint says.
Tony's actually awake the whole time, listening to them bickering. “You have three seconds to get the hell out of here before I make all of you polish my suits.” With that, the team races down the hall, pushing each other to get away first like literal children.
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folkloreguk · 4 years ago
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an angel for a demon (2)
A/N: Part one came out like two years ago lmao but I’ve always wanted to write another part, and here it finally is! I’m always open to feedback of any kind! x
genre: smut, optional bias (male), demon!bias, angel!reader, reader’s first time, unprotected sex bc we pretend angels and demons can’t have babies or STDs apparently
words: ~ 3.4 k
PART 1
PART 3
Three days had passed since you had begun to live with him. It had taken you some time to get used to your new surroundings and to realize this is where you would spend most of your time from now on. His place was not what angels called beautiful. Had it been yours, it would have been filled with antique statues of heavenly beings, light, soft colors and comfortable pillows and blankets. But his taste differed gravely from yours. He had a love for black marble and accents of red. Not the beautiful, bright red of strawberries in summer. It was dark crimson, like deoxygenated blood fresh out of a wound. You felt like you had entered a side wing of hell itself, sometimes. But you knew hell had to be much, much worse.
On the second day, you had set yourself the challenge of making the place feel at least slightly homier. No one who entered this apartment would, even in their wildest dreams, assume that an angel lived there. Although you weren’t sure you could call yourself that, anymore. Your trip to the grocery store was the most humane thing you had ever done on earth, but surely wouldn’t stay the last. You wondered, while you had strolled around the isles, whether one day you could find yourself working a job on earth, now that you couldn’t call heaven home no more. You still had the desire to help the humans, and maybe you could earn a living whilst doing so.
On that note, you had pondered countless times how a demon could afford the luxury he lived in. But he wasn’t one to tell you about his day when he returned home after being out all night. He called it ‘demon business’ and ‘nothing that should concern a little angel’. One day, you would winkle it out of him. Although maybe you really would be better off not knowing. But you knew, as always that sooner or later your curiosity would get the best of you.
When he came home on the second day and laid eyes on the cotton candy-colored flowers on the table, he couldn’t help but smirk at how proud you were. The contrast was stark against the dark ebony table and seemed like an accurate representation of how you had felt in his home.
“If you wanted me to bring you flowers you could have just said so,” he said.
“I like going out to the store myself sometimes,” you replied. He was always so stern when he returned home. Sometimes he had tired eyes, and often he seemed physically exhausted. But the moment he laid eyes on you, his strained expression softened. Then, he’d stroke away a strand of your hair and gaze at you with utmost admiration. He had offered to buy you whatever your heart desired, but your angel life had never required you to have possessions. There was no greed or yearning for luxury, and you liked it that way.
One thing, however, you never seemed to get enough of on earth. No matter how many books you opened and got lost in, you always wanted more. And he knew of your wish to learn more about the world. He had gifted you books of philosophy, biology and physics, and yet he had no idea it wasn’t science that interested you the most.
Every night you lay awake for too long, reflecting on what he had said to you that one night. That there was more for you to learn. Before him, you never knew what real pleasure felt like – you weren’t supposed to, even now – but now that you understood, you only wanted to feel it again and again. A few times you had contemplated asking him to show you more. To let you feel the pure bliss of what heaven called sinning again. But he seemed tired when he returned home, and when he didn’t you were too scared to approach him with such a topic. Plus, you didn’t even know how to. Too new was the idea of you – an angel – even thinking of doing such unholy things.
So you spent your days pacing around the apartment, sitting by the window, looking out at the city and waiting for him to come home. One night, you couldn’t fall asleep, as on many other occasions. He wasn’t there next to you, and the bed felt too big for just one lonely angel in it. There was an almost burning sensation between your legs. Once again, you squeezed your eyes shut and thought of other things – floating on clouds, watching older angels’ wings flatter, inspecting your little village you used to guard from above. But nothing helped. It all led back to black eyes, razor teeth, a sharp tongue and hands so hellish in their actions, you should have wished he had never touched you. And yet you never did.
Your eyes shot open when you heard the shower turn on. The alarm clock on the table read 1:57 am. Not so patiently, you waited a few minutes until the sound of the water died down. Then, you tip-toed out of the room and down the hall.
The sight of him made your cheeks heat up. He was sat, in the dark, on the sofa. A towel was around his waist, a few drops of water glistening on his bare chest as he lifted the glass of alcohol to his lips.
“What are you doing standing and staring, little angel? Why don’t you come join me?” he suddenly asked. Your heart skipped a beat at his voice. Heaven help me now, you thought.
“I thought you didn’t…,” you started, slowly moving across the room as if you were floating.
“I didn’t notice you?” he finished your sentence. You hummed a quiet yes. “Your glow is hard to miss.”
You weren’t sure what he meant by that. Was he saying, that just as he had a dark aura around him, you radiated a bright one? It made sense to you. You stopped in your tracks when you stood in front of him.
“You’re wearing your angel dress again,” he pointed out. He had brought you clothes, but nothing felt as right on your body as your white dress you had always worn.
“I always sleep in it,” you said. “You never see it, since you’re never here.”
“Does my little angel miss me?” he said. His dark eyes watched you intently, but they softened when he realized you had meant your words. “Come here, let me make it up to you.”
Not knowing what he meant by those words, you plopped down next to him.
“I meant come here,” he repeated, tapping his lap. Oh. Obediently, you swung one of your legs over his waist. Suddenly, you were hyperaware of the fact that his towel was the only thing between your center and his bare skin. Carefully, you watched his eyes for instructions or assurance. You kept your hands tightly by your sides, not daring to touch his skin that shined so beautifully in the moonlight. It was almost ironic, how ethereal his perfectly sculpted muscles appeared to you.
“Tell me, angel, do you sometimes think about what we did three days ago?” he asked, softly brushing his fingers along your arm. You should have felt ashamed to admit it. But with the way he watched you, he seemed to already guess your answer.
“I haven’t stopped thinking about it,” you said, the words spilling out after keeping them in for too long. “I want to know more.”
He smirked, hooded black eyes watching your every breath while his head remained on the backrest of the sofa.
“Is that so?” he almost teased. “Why don’t you kiss me, then? Go ahead.”
Hesitantly, you bent forward until your forehead was almost touching his. Now, you didn’t look into his intimidating gaze anymore, but instead the closeness only made you more nervous. But more prominent than your nerves was your curiosity and your desire you hadn’t been able to shut out for the past days. You smelled a faint note of alcohol before you softly pressed your lips against his. Your kiss was the tender flutter of butterfly wings, like a singular snowflake landing on warm skin, as careful as a little bird in a lion’s cage.
But he kissed back, so overwhelmingly and suddenly, it robbed your breath in an instant. His body straightened up now, arms pulling you closer to his chest. Humming contently, he took your lifeless hands from your sides and placed them on his shoulders. His warm skin was inviting, making it easy for you to melt into his touch. Still, you weren’t used to this feeling. Maybe you would never get used to it. Perhaps it was supposed to be this exciting every single time. He breathed against your mouth heavily and his tongue swiped across your lips. The sensation was enticing and combined with his coaxing hands digging into your waist, your guilt washed away far too quickly. But there had been no redemption after the previous time and there wouldn’t be one now. Or ever. For a moment, you pulled away, needing air.
“Too much? Too fast?” he asked, cradling your face in his hands. A rush of comfort overcame you.
“No, I’m fine. It just feels – really good,” you said.
“Of course it does,” he bragged, smirking infamously.
“Can you…I want you to touch me…like you did last time,” you said. Even you were surprised at yourself. You could have just waited for him and he surely would have made you feel amazing. But now that you knew what it could feel like, you weren’t able to swallow your impatience.
“Such a sinful confession from such holy lips,” he said, voice dripping honey while he brushed two of his fingers across those very lips. “I wonder what other things those could do.”
What could he possibly be talking about? How much was there for you to try out? Whatever it was, you wanted to do it all. You had no idea what had come over you. Was there a secret demon that had taken possession of your body without notice? Or maybe you were simply an angel tired of acting like one.
Slowly, his hands dropped from your sides and to your hips. All while he watched your face like it was his favorite meantime to make you squirm under his touch. When he progressed to your thighs, something dropped in your stomach. Again, your body reacted before your mind did and you wanted to press your legs together. It felt familiar, but just as thrilling as the first time. His head tilted slightly as if to ask ‘do you like this?’ as he lifted the hem of your satin dress. And how you liked it.
You were very aware of being bare in front of him. So, in order to avoid feeling his eyes on your body, you bent forward again to kiss him. Bad idea – because the lack of oxygen and the loss of your sight when you closed your eyes only intensified the need. His fingertips were fleeting, rather non-demon-like, but you knew how fast he could flip his actions, had he wanted to.
They ghosted over your slit, collecting your wetness that had been pooling there. At even the slightest contact of his finger on your clit, you let out a quiet noise. He had been biting his lip, but when he heard you, his eyes met yours in an instant and he smirked.
“Let me hear you, little angel,” he said, before placing a kiss on your neck. While he continued to suck purple marks into your skin, his fingers toyed around your center, figuring out what made you react in the best way. And as the angel you were, always eager to please, you made sure you didn’t keep your mouth shut anymore. It felt weird, noticing the sounds he produced from you so involuntarily, but the more you concentrated on the feeling of his hand between your legs, the easier it was to ignore them.
Maybe you were easy to please, or perhaps you were completely see-through for him. It occurred to you he had you figured out head to toe. How did he know exactly which spots to touch to have you clinging to him, as if you would have fallen had he not held you? He drew random figures on your clit, variating the pace just to keep you on edge right where he wanted you. Now and then, his digits slid further down to your core, almost entering you but not quite yet. Your moans came out in a muffled manner as you had your face buried where his neck and shoulder met.
“Look at me, angel,” he said. So you did. No matter what sort of menace could have possibly lay behind his black orbs, the sound of his voice made you want to give him everything. And judging by the way your hips were moving and pushing against his hands by themselves you had already given your body to him. Against all odds, after all the horror stories you had been told to ensure an angel like you would stay far away from hellish beings, you trusted him.
“What a disgrace…They kept you locked up in heaven all this time,” he spoke. “I should have had you all along. You should have had me.”
It had never occurred to you that you could have looked at it this way. You had been happy in heaven. But then again, you hadn’t known what you had been missing. That’s when he slowly inserted one of his fingers into you. The sensation was unusual, but then he curled his digit and you understood.
“Oh god,” you let out when he touched a certain spot inside of you. It felt so right, you wondered why when you were able to feel this way, you should have been abstinent all along.
“Not exactly a good time to bring up god, huh?” he said, teeth nibbling on your neck. You laughed before you could have stopped yourself, and he looked stunned. But then, his lips curled into a malicious and content grin. At the same time, he added another finger into your core. His thumb remained rubbing against your clit, and like last time, you could feel a knot tying in your stomach as time went on. A string of whines and whimpers fell from your lips and your eyes shut tightly. But he decided you’d have to wait longer for your release.
“Do you think you can handle more?” he asked. You sighed when he retracted his hand from your core and watched as he brought his fingers up to his lips to taste you. His gaze didn’t let you decide whether he eyed you like prey or his most treasured thing in the world.
“Yes, I want you to show me,” you said quietly, almost breathless from the sight in front of you.
“Let’s go to the bedroom, then,” he announced. “It’ll be more comfortable for you.”
Your legs felt like jelly as you walked with him. This time, you didn’t hesitate to get onto his black bedsheets. It had become one of your favorite places to be in his apartment by now and the familiarity of it took away some of your nerves.
“I might be a demon, but I promise I can be gentle,” he said. His eyes were probably the most mellow they had ever been since you had met him. Carefully, he helped you slip out of your dress. “So don’t be scared, little angel.”
You had to admit, when he removed his towel from his waist and your eyes fell on his hard member, you weren’t sure if you would be okay. But then he bent down to you and kissed you. His hands softly stroked your cheeks, making it a hard contrast from his devilish image.
“Still sure?” he asked between kisses. It was like he was sucking the fear out of you, although he should have terrified you all along. You nodded and hummed but then changed your voice to a small whimper when he used his hand to run his cock over your slick center. Ever so carefully, he pushed himself inside of you. The stretch was uncomfortable, at first. He must had noticed by reading your face, because his eyebrows furrowed slightly.
“It’ll feel better in a bit, I promise,” he said. You relaxed your muscles the moment he kissed you again, his plan of distracting you surely working. When he had completely filled you up, he stayed in place while your tongues touched and you moaned at the feeling. It felt like he had always meant to be there, on top of you, inside of you.
“If you need me to stop or slow down, you’ll tell me, right?” he asked.
“Yes,” you answered. Once again you debated how you ended up this way. In bed with a demon. And said demon had his hooded black eyes on you, while he thrusted into you ever so slowly, and you couldn’t believe how out-of-this-world-perfect he looked. Although you would surely need more time to get used to the feeling, there was a hint of pleasure you felt every time he dragged his cock against your walls and that once special spot he had touched before.
Upon hearing how he moaned for the first time, you realized it wasn’t just touch that could make your stomach clench in a deep desire to be close to him. It sounded animalistic and you kept your eyes on the way his sharp teeth dug into his bottom lip. You sucked in a breath when he caressed your breasts, fingertips toying with your nipples.
“This is the closest to heaven I’ll ever get, right, little angel?” he spoke, and his gloating smile was so wicked, but handsome, right at that moment. You could only hum a ‘yes’. His lips on your neck were gentle, but your head spun whenever his teeth grazed your angel skin.
“You wouldn’t like it there, either way,” you said. His hand snaked down your body, between your legs where you had been missing them. He let out a growl-like moan when you clenched around his cock from the sudden added pleasure. In no time, he found your clit and used his skilled fingers, and he was right, this should have been the definition of heaven.
“And why is that?” he asked. “Because I couldn’t have you this way, in heaven?”
“Exactly,” you whimpered. “Oh- my-“
The desire to close your legs around him became bigger with each second, the knot in your belly tightening and your mind clouding with nothing but bliss.
“Doesn’t matter. You’re my own personal heaven,” he said. His free hand brushed away your hair delicately. “Are you gonna let go for me, sweet angel?”
You weren’t sure how to let go, exactly. But if by that he meant for you to close your eyes and just let the feeling wash over you, you would - without a choice - do so. Your high made your back arch against his chest and a small cry escaped your lips. He pushed his digits down on your center, slower now, but making sure to draw out every last second of your orgasm.
He had been speeding up his thrusts but then he pulled out, not wanting to cause you discomfort due to overstimulation. With his hand around his cock and quick movements of his wrist, he managed to bring on his own release, letting his cum spill out onto your thighs. You didn’t realize you had been holding your breath until you finally opened your eyes again, blinking tiredly and wetting your dry lips. He lowered his head until your foreheads touched. The more you looked into his black eyes, the more at home they made you feel.
“How was that, angel?” he asked, his breathing still unsteady.
“Heavenly,” you replied, pulling him in for a kiss. Even against his lips, you recognized his devilish smirk. And up to that point, you had believed ‘heaven on earth’ was just some silly little human saying. Until he proved you wrong.
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junghelioseok · 4 years ago
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novae.
↳ what is grief, if not love persevering?
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◇ hoseok x reader   ◇ angst | fluff(?) | time traveler!au     ◇ 1.8k [1/1]
notes: a polaris drabble, so please read that beforehand. summary is from wandavision, which i haven’t seen, but that line is everything and i got inspired! also, i am so not kidding about the angst!!! be warned!!! (and i’m not saying that you should listen to blue side while reading this but i’m also not not saying that, so....... do what you want 🤷🏻‍♀️)
warnings: not super edited bc i couldn’t handle it tbh, dealing with death and loss, i’m pretty sure this is the angst you were all afraid would be in polaris so sorry but there’s some cute stuff too i swear
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You said goodbye to your husband yesterday. One final goodbye as you scattered his ashes to the wind, watching as they disappeared into the flurry of dry brown leaves spiraling into the river.
There’d been a wake, of course. Last week, at a modest little place on the outskirts of the city where you and your husband had made your home. You'd watched people come and go—friends and family and those acquaintances you never really knew but who all seemed to know your husband one way or another. They flowed on through, a seemingly never ending stream of dark-clothed mourners with good intentions and well-meaning words on their lips.
Thank you for coming, became your mantra after the first dozen or so. Yes, I'm fine. Sure, you can bring a casserole by the house tomorrow.
You really ought to put the casseroles in the fridge. They sit on the kitchen counter in a colorful array of dishes, wrapped in saran wrap and flecked with condensation from being packed up when they were still warm. You can see them from your seat at the dining table, as you tear your gaze away from the window it’s tucked against and prop your chin in your open palm.
The last of your family left yesterday, boarding flights and climbing into cars to return to their own lives. Your friends and neighbors offered their final condolences, before falling back into their own habits and routines. With their departure, you’re alone for the first time in what feels like forever, doing your best to pick up the pieces of your life. And though you have no more tears left to cry, there’s a rift in your heart that refuses to mend, the jagged edges of it digging into your lungs and ribs.
The house is cold without him by your side. That's what it is, now—a house, because you can no longer bear to call it home even if it doesn’t look any different than it did two weeks ago. The things that surround you—the worn couch and the novelty mugs and the patch of imperfect paint on the living room wall—they belong to you. The memories that well up when you look at them, they belong to you.
But they belong to him, too.
Your late husband’s presence lingers in everything around you. There's the faint dip in the couch cushion from decades of use—years of Netflix binges and late night cuddles and the occasional romp when the two of you couldn’t quite make it all the way to the bedroom. There’s the goofy cartoon sun that decorates your favorite mug—the very first one he'd gifted you all those years ago when you first started dating. There’s the memory of the laughter that creased his face when he accidentally leaned against the wet paint in the living room, his white t-shirt muddied with streaks of green. You'd fixed it, of course—done your best with the leftover paint scraped out of the bottom of the can. Doesn't have to be perfect though, he'd said with paint on his cheek. I think it's nice. Gives the place a little more character, you know?
Heaving a sigh, you push back from the table and wearily rise to your feet to put the casseroles away. But your fingertips have only just brushed one of the several ceramic platters lining the counter when there’s a sudden, loud thump from the living room.
“Damn it,” a voice says, and you freeze in your tracks, your heart skipping several beats. Your hearing isn’t what it used to be, but you’d recognize that voice anywhere.
“Hoseo—” you begin, but the second syllable gets caught in your throat. Your husband walks through the doorway with a curious little smile, and your eyes well up with tears that you didn’t even know you had left.
“Hey, beautiful,” he says, coming to a stop before you and brushing a thumb across your cheek fondly. Then his expression sobers, as he takes in your misty gaze and the countless casseroles on the counter. “What’s wrong?”
This Hoseok is in his mid-forties, at most—several decades younger than you are in the present. There’s the barest glint of silver around his temples, a smattering of salt beginning to overtake the pepper of his hair, and you blink rapidly as your throat begins to well with emotion again.
“Hoseok,” you breathe. “Nothing’s wrong. You’re here.”
“I’m here,” he confirms. His palm caresses your cheek, and you lean into the touch as he pulls you close and into the warmth of his chest.
It’s been years since you last saw a Hoseok that wasn’t your own—a Hoseok that came from a time that wasn’t your present. Once the two of you moved in together in your twenties, Hoseok’s travels through time tapered off. The last time you’d seen him was about six years ago, when an eighteen year old Hoseok stumbled into the backyard while you were planting peonies and your Hoseok was at the grocery store. You’d offered him milk and cookies, and he’d been all too happy to accept. You remember that he’d been stressed about final exams, at the time.
And now, here he is again, older and wiser and thankfully not scratched up from appearing in the middle of your rose bushes. Pulling back from the embrace, you take in his face once more, your gaze roving across the wrinkles of laughter around his eyes and the familiar freckle above his lip. His hair, upon closer inspection, is damp, and gingerly, you reach up to trail your fingers through it.
“Rain?” you ask. “Or shower?”
“Shower,” Hoseok replies with a smile, intercepting your hand and pressing a warm kiss to your frail knuckles. “Seriously, I just barely managed to get dressed before I found myself here.”
A laugh bubbles up in your chest, escaping into the open air and easing the tightness in your throat. “It’s good to see you,” you murmur, smiling when he laces your fingers together and gives your hand a squeeze. “It’s so, so good to see you, Hobi.”
Hoseok chuckles and bumps his forehead gently against yours. “It’s good to see you too, babe.”
You laugh again at the term of endearment, smacking his chest weakly with your free hand. “Babe? I’m old enough to be your grandmother.”
“And yet, you’re as pretty as you’ve ever been,” he replies with a grin. “Now, are you going to tell me what’s going on?”
Slowly, your smile fades. You think of the casseroles, and the jar of ashes you’d scattered to the wind. You think of the little spoonful of ashes you’d saved, that now hangs heavy in a locket in the hollow of your throat. “Hobi, I—”
You trail off, and Hoseok’s expression softens. “It’s me, right? I’m… gone?”
“You—” Sniffing, you bury your face into his shoulder, breathing in the scent of his citrusy shampoo melding with the vaguely floral laundry detergent you both favor. Underneath it all is something that is distinctly Hoseok, something warm and comfortable and inviting, and you sniffle again when he reaches up to stroke along your back.
“It’s okay, baby,” he whispers into your hair, his breath warm against the shell of your ear. “You can let it out. You’ve been so strong, but you can let it all out now. It’s okay.”
“I don’t know what to do, Hobi,” you mumble into the sky blue cotton of his t-shirt, whisper-soft. “I don’t… I don’t think I know how to live without you.”
And it’s true. You’ve known Hoseok since you were eight years old—ever since he appeared in the middle of your garage and knocked over a can full of paintbrushes. You moved in together at twenty-four, got engaged two years later, and haven’t looked back since. You’ve given decades of your life and all of your love to Hoseok, and he’s done the same. And now all that you have left of him is a locket full of his ashes and a house filled to the brim with memories both good and bad.
“Were we happy?”
You blink, twice in rapid succession, before looking up into his achingly familiar face. His eyes are soft and his smile is tender, and you blink again slowly before answering. “Of course we were.”
Hoseok’s smile widens. He touches your cheek again gently, the pad of his thumb brushing the delicate skin just beneath your right eye. “And we had decades of happiness, didn’t we?”
“A lifetime’s worth,” you agree in a whisper. “But I’m selfish, Hobi. I want more. I want you.”
“You have me,” Hoseok replies, and your eyes flutter shut when he reaches up to cup your face in his hands, his touch delicate and light as if you’re something to be treasured. “I’ve been yours since we were kids, and I’ll be yours until the universe ends and the stars die out. You couldn’t get rid of me, even if you tried.”
The sound that escapes you is part laugh, part choked sob, and when you speak again, your voice is small. “I know. You’re right, and I know that. But—” and here your throat closes up, and you have to clear it twice just to continue on. “I just miss you, Hobi. I miss you so much. Between the wake and everyone coming into town, it just feels like… it feels like I didn’t get to say a proper goodbye.”
“Say it now, then,” he says easily, and you suck in a shaky breath.
“Really?”
“Really.”
So, you do. You tell him everything you never got a chance to say—from the stupid jokes you never got to crack, to how happy you are to have met him all those decades ago. Hoseok listens to you ramble on with a tender smile and his fingers twined with yours, and when you fall silent again, he utters four simple little words that somehow still manage to make your breach catch and your heart sing.
“I love you too.”
You nod, and blink back a fresh wave of tears. “Will I see you again?”
“I don’t know,” he answers, and you know he’s telling the truth because he’s incapable of lying. “I hope so. But even if you don’t, I know you’ll be okay. You’re the strongest person I’ve ever met, and you’re going to be fine. I know it.”
Hoseok stiffens, then, and you know it’s time for him to go. “I love you,” you repeat, whispering the words into his chest as if you can force them past the material of his shirt and imprint them into his very skin. “Goodbye, Hobi.”
Your husband squeezes your hand, planting twin kisses onto your eyelids one onto your lips. “Goodbye, {Name}.
And then he’s gone, leaving you alone once more.
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berrynarrybanana · 4 years ago
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Me and You Together
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A/N: Hello! I would like to say first of all that ^ is not my gif. I had it saved on my computer from somewhere and it just felt perfect for this. I do love my little sweet pea and frat boy Harry, but I also feel like I’ve done them dirty in this fic. I wanted to add more angst, but we all know I’m shit at that kind of stuff bc I’m soft at heart. Anywho, I really hope that you enjoy this and I just want to thank the lovely @stellarboystyles​ for putting together this little fic challenge. Congrats on 3 years babe! I hope that you like this story and that I have done this celebratory moment justice! 
Word Count: 11.9 k 
Warnings: Alcohol, smut, pining, Louis being a dickhead, a mean roommate
Trope: Best Friends to Lovers with Frat Boy Harry 
Prompt: “Just sit on my fingers. Yeah, just like that.” (this is all the way at the end tbh, just a heads up lol) 
P.s I know nothing about frat’s honestly and I just tried to avoid that the best that I could but fratboy!h lives in my mind rent free and I wanted to write it so....yeah.
September
Piper’s POV 
I rolled my head back on my neck, looking up at the ceiling as my roommate sighed. 
“Has anyone told you that you’re a selfish bitch?” Carli asked, her perfectly manicured nail resting on the cheap, wooden door of our dorm room. “I’m trying to unwind and relax after an extremely hard week and you’re ruining it for me.” 
“I live here too!” I felt my brows pull together in frustration as I adjusted my bag on my sore shoulders, shifting from foot to foot. “The least you can let me do is come in and change before you start fucking.”
“You’re killing my mood!” She groaned, holding her hand out. “Give me your fucking bag and tell me what you need.” 
“Carli-”
“Tell me what you need or I’m shutting this door in your face, I swear to god.” She snapped, her brows arching up as she wiggled her fingers at me. “You have five seconds.” 
“Fine!” I said, shrugging my bag off my tired shoulders. “I need my purse, a black t-shirt, and a jacket.” 
“Great.” 
She slammed the door in my face, flicking the lock as I brushed my hands over my face angrily. 
College was not supposed to be like this. 
The next four years of my life were meant to be spent making new friends and partaking in fun activities on campus. So far, the only person I knew was Carli and she most definitely hated my guts with a burning passion. I wasn’t sure why she hated me so much when I mainly kept to myself, hunched over my desk with headphones on for most of the night when I studied. I hardly ever talked to Carli besides the odd argument about my typing being too loud and my presence being too...obvious. I hated every second of college so far and this wasn’t helping me at all. 
I was moments away from having a breakdown, the build up creeping up my throat as I stood there in the hall, waiting for Carli as everyone else stared at my back. I tried not to let their prying eyes bother me, but I could feel the hairs standing up on the back of my neck as I crossed my arms over my chest. I tried to distract my mind, thinking about where I was going to go while Carli got her rocks off in our shared room. Maybe the library? Maybe a cafe?
Just as I started listing off cafes in my head, the door opened just a crack. 
“Here’s your stuff, don’t come home before midnight.” She stuck a hand out, her voice muffled by the door. I rolled my eyes, grabbing my things from her hands. “Bye, Pippi!”
“It’s Piper, you unbearable asshole.” I sighed, holding my stuff close to my chest as frustrated tears started to accumulate behind my eyes. “I hope you don’t have an orgasm.” 
I turned on my heels, ready to storm towards the communal bathroom so I could change and collect myself before leaving. I only made it halfway down the hall when I heard someone shouting behind me. I wasn’t sure they were actually calling out for me until I felt a hand on my shoulder. I stopped in my tracks, sniffling as I reached up to wipe at my cheeks. 
“Piper, hold on.” The girl who was calling my name stepped in front of me, letting out a shuddery breath. She only had eyeshadow on one of her perfectly shaped eyes and a makeup brush in her hand as she stopped. “I just wanted to say that I am so sorry your roommate just did that to you. You can use my room to change if you’d like? I know the communal bathroom doesn’t always offer the most privacy and my roommate is never home. I’ll stand outside and everything!” 
“You don’t have to do that.” I sniffled before offering her a forced smile. I wasn’t in the mood to deal with teasing right now. “But thank you.” 
“I insist.” Her brown eyes looked softer as she spoke, her hand falling to her side. “My name is Eleanor. I think we have Modern English together.” 
“Piper.” I said. “Are you sure you’re okay with that?” 
“Yeah.” She nodded. “I don’t mind it at all, babes.” 
Eleanor left me in her room to get dressed, politely standing outside as I collected myself. 
I took a few deep breaths, trying to compose myself as I stripped out of the blouse I had been wearing all day. I pulled my black t-shirt on, huffing when I realized that this wasn’t the one I actually needed. This one was meant for darker jeans and a pair of heeled boots. This top was meant for parties and bars, not a cafe. The criss crossed pattern was far too fancy for a late night cup of coffee and a lonely piece of cheesecake. 
When I opened the door, my old shirt bundled up in my hand, I smiled at Eleanor. 
She looked over my outfit, her eyes growing wide. 
“You look great!” She said. “Do you have plans tonight?” 
“I was just gonna go to Fitz and Co for coffee and dessert.” I gave her a nervous chuckle, clutching my old shirt in my hands. “Probably going to wander around campus after to kill time.” 
“Don’t take offense,” She gave me a sweet smile, her accent growing thicker with each word she spoke. I hadn’t noticed it all that much before when my emotions were on overdrive and my mind was swirling with anger. “But that sounds absolutely dreadful and you deserve to have a little bit of fun. It’s Friday night for fuck’s sake and we’re in Uni!”
“I don’t really know anyone on campus.” I shrugged. “I’ve not made a ton of friends yet, you know?” 
“I do, actually.” She nodded. “If I had to say, you’re the first person I’ve tried to make conversation with since I’ve been here. I’m going to a party tonight because my boyfriend’s frat is hosting it, and he’ll just text me all night if I don’t go.”
“That sounds like fun.” I said. “Thank you for helping me out and offering me your room. I really hope you have fun tonight."
“Why don’t you come with me?” She asked. “I know frat parties sound horrible after all the stuff you see in films, and a lot of them are pretty shit, but I would love to have a drinking buddy.” 
“I don’t want to impose.” I said. “I’m sure you want to spend time with your boyfriend.”
“Nonsense, he sees me everyday.” She shook her head. “I would love to have someone to chat with that isn’t one of his football friends from back home.” 
“Um, okay.’” I shrugged. “I guess that’s not too horrible and I kind of owe you one.”
“You won’t regret it.” 
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“So the house shouldn’t be too crowded.” Eleanor pulled her flannel tighter around her body, hunching over as the wind whipped around us. “A few of the guys are still out getting alcohol and people aren’t supposed to start showing up for another hour at least.”
“That’s good.” I nodded. “So why did you decide to come to school here?”
“Louis.” She said. “I couldn’t stomach the idea of being away from Lou and there are so many opportunities in America for both of us. He’s here on a footie scholarship and I’m here on a performing arts scholarship.”
“That’s really cool!” I exclaimed, my eyebrows raising up. “I didn’t peg you for a theatre nerd.”
“Just a tiny one.” She chuckled. “I’m more into the costumes than anything. Fashion has always owned my heart and my Mum took me to so many musicals as a girl. I figured I would combine my love for both and make it my career.”
“I admire that.” I said softly, glancing down at the sidewalk as we turned a corner. “So how long have you and Louis been together?”
“Four years.” She smiled. “We met on a holiday to London one summer and we’ve never let go of each other. Last year we went to the same University for our first year before deciding to come abroad and it was….magical.”
“He sounds lovely.” I said. “He makes you happy?” 
“He does.” She nodded, her lips pursing slightly as she tried to hide her smile. “He’s a proper gentleman, even when he’s being a bit too laddie.”
“I don’t even know what that means.” I chuckled and Eleanor joined in. “What is a laddie? Is that like Lassie, the dog?”
“Not like that dog.” She scrunched up her nose. “I think you call them ‘Bro’s’ over here.” 
“Ah, I do understand then.” 
Eleanor and I continued chatting as we walked down Frat Row. 
The houses were large, but they looked a little plain and rundown. I imagine having a group of rowdy, drunk boys living in a house without supervision didn’t do well for wear and tear on a house. Eleanor told me that the last house on frat row in the cul-de-sac belonged to pretty much the entire footy team with a few odd guys sprinkled in. 
When we arrived, my jaw nearly dropped to the ground. 
I was living in a tiny dorm room and these men were living like kings and a gigantic and modern house that looked brand new. Eleanor laughed as I took in the dark, blue-grey exterior. The shutters and the porch were both painted a dark, charcoal grey. We walked up the stairs and I continued to look around like a kid lost in a candy store. 
Maybe joining a sorority wasn’t a bad move?
“So, that is the living room and just down that first hall is the bathroom. I recommend going upstairs to Louis’ room if you want to use a clean and unoccupied bathroom.” She chuckled. “I’ll show you around upstairs later if you’d like.”
“This is the cleanest Frat house I’ve ever seen in my life.” I said slowly, looking around. “How is it so pristine?”
“A few of the guys are really obsessed with cleanliness and organization.” She chuckled. “Also I spend a lot of time over here, so I do what I can.”
“I would spend all of my time here, too.” I said. “Why are you even in a dorm if you could be here?”
“Rules.” She rolled her eyes. “Technically women aren’t allowed to be housed in a frat, which blows, but I understand it.”
“Well, I’ll pretend to be you and stay in your dorm if you want to fly under the radar and move here.” I teased, patting her shoulder. “It’s a win win for both of us.”
“I might take you up on that.” She giggled, guiding me through an open archway. “This here is the kitchen-”
“Ellie, s’that you!” 
Eleanor flinched at the booming voice from upstairs, her eyes casting up to the ceiling as she grumbled. 
“Bloody hell, these men,” She shot me a sympathetic look and I tried my best not to laugh softly at her annoyance. “Yes, Niall?”
“I need help.” This accent was slightly different than Eleanor’s and it almost reminded me of the guy on the lucky charms commercial. “I don’t know what trousers to wear, should I do these dark jeans or these plaid one’s.”
The voice was closer and closer with each word and suddenly, a half naked man appeared in the doorway, holding two pairs of pants as he looked down at them. He was wearing white boxer briefs and white socks, the rest of his pale and freckled skin on display. I had to admit that he was extremely attractive, chestnut colored hair on top of his head and a soft stomach rounded out with a matching chestnut happy trail dusting under his belly button. 
“Oh, hello.” He looked up, smiling at me with piercing blue eyes and extremely handsome features. I tried not to blush, my eyes glued to his. “Which one’s do ya think I should wear, love? Good to have an outsider’s perspective sometimes.” 
The sound of a door shutting behind us caused my head to snap around. 
This was more of a man standing at the opposite end of the kitchen, his chocolate colored curls framing his face and resting on his broad shoulders as he looked up at me. His face was perfect, adonis like features catching my attention and his bright green eyes causing my breath to catch in my throat. He offered me a small smile, his features soft as he cleared his throat. 
“Hello.” He said softly to me before his eyes darted up, looking behind me. “For fuck’s sake, Niall. Why are you nearly naked!” 
“I needed help!” I turned my head back towards Niall as his brows pulled together, his lips turning to a scowl. “I can’t decide what trousers to wear and Liam is no help!” 
“We have a guest.” The green eyed god spoke from behind me, but I didn’t dare turn my head. I was afraid that if I did, I would be stuck staring at him for the rest of the night. “Don’t be rude.”
I glanced over at Eleanor who lifted her hand to pinch the bridge of her nose. 
I tried, again, not to laugh at her misery. 
“I swear to god, Niall,” She sighed heavily. “The least you could do is introduce yourself to the poor girl before you flash her.”
“M’Niall,” He rolled his eyes, looking over at me. “What’s your name, love?” 
Harry’s POV
“My name is Piper.” 
I stared at the back of her head, trying my best not to think about running my fingers through her soft curls that nearly matched the shade of my own. I inhaled sharply as I pressed my fingertips into the marble countertop below me. I had seen this girl, Piper, around campus before. I saw her flitting from building to building with her head tilted down and her headphones tucked in her cute little ears. I had a huge crush on this girl and now she was standing in my kitchen with my half-naked roommate and my best friend’s girl. 
This wasn’t a good thing at all.
“S’nice to meet you, Piper.” Niall winked at her and I rolled my eyes, shooting him a glare over the girls head. 
His brows furrowed and I gave him a pointed look before mouthing, ‘That’s the girl’.
Niall’s brows lifted up and he shot me a cheeky grin. 
He was the only one I confided in about my girl troubles. 
He knew all about the mystery girl that I passed by every day on my way to physics class and he had suggested to me several times that bumping into her was the best way to catch her attention. I declined, rolling my eyes at his childish suggestion. I had to admit though, if she had been in my class, I would have tossed paper at the back of her head to get her attention. 
It was a trick that never failed. 
“Well, I’m gonna go get dressed then.” He cleared his throat, glancing over at Eleanor. “Lou is stuck on the phone with his Mum, babe. I think he might need some rescuing if he’s going to join the party at all tonight.”
“Oh,” Eleanor stood straighter, glancing over at Piper. “I don’t want to leave Piper-”
“I can stay with her.” I cleared my throat, reaching up to fiddle with my hair as both girls turned to look at me. “I’ve finished my part of party prep, so I don’t mind.”
“Harry, I don’t know.” Eleanor said. “I’m already afraid Niall’s neon white body is going to scare her off. I don’t need you turning on your Cheshire Charm.”
“Oi, I resent that.” I narrowed my eyes at her playfully, trying to fight off my smile as she chuckled. “I won’t be turning on any charm tonight, love. I’ve got a big match to play tomorrow, remember? Gotta save my strength and energy if I wanna do well.”
“Alright, fine.” Eleanor sighed, turning back to Piper. “Are you okay if I disappear for a few minutes? I promise I’ll be right back.” 
“It’s fine.” Piper smiled at Eleanor, gently nodding her head. “Please, go ahead. I don’t mind waiting down here.”
“You’re sure?” Eleanor asked, her face laced with concern. 
“Positive.” Piper glanced over at me. “I think I’m in good hands with ol’ Cheshire Charm back there.” 
My smile was so wide that it hurt my cheeks. 
She was funny and gorgeous.
Eleanor glanced between the two of us before saying a quick ‘be right back’.
“It’s nice to meet you.” Piper turned around, her hands pressing against the countertop as Niall wiggled his brows behind us. He disappeared behind Eleanor moments later, leaving Piper and I alone in the kitchen. “Would you like a Whiteclaw?”
“Oh, sure.” She nodded, her eyes dropping down to her hands. “I would love one.”
“You seem a bit nervous.” I said, walking towards the fridge. “Do you have a flavor preference?”
“No.” She said softly. “And yeah, I guess I am a bit nervous. I’ve had a pretty tough day and I wasn’t exactly prepared to come to a frat party.”
“Why are you here then?” I asked, my eyes scanning the shelves until I landed on the one filled with canned drinks. I reached for two lime flavored cocktails, pulling them out before I shut the door with my hip. “If you don’t mind me asking, that is.” 
“Um, Eleanor extended the invitation and I kind of owed her one.” Piper smiled, taking the drink with a soft ‘thank you’. “My roommate is a bit of a dickhead and she kicked me out so she could get laid. Eleanor saw me in the hallway on the verge of a mental breakdown and we just...hit it off, I guess.”
“Sorry your roommate was a dickhead.” I smiled, letting my eyes roam over the soft features of her face. “I’m glad you and El hit it off though. It’s nice to have a new face around here.”
I let my eyes trail over the features of her face now that she was up close and personal. 
Her eyes were hazel, a soft golden hue to her irises. Her brows were thick and wild, but perfectly shaped. There were soft freckles peeking out from under her foundation and her cheeks were a soft shade of red. Her nose was soft and rounded at the end and I couldn’t help but think of hovering over her, brushing my own nose against hers as I thrust into her. 
I hated being a man sometimes. 
She was a beautiful girl and even in my head she deserved better than to be thought of that way. She was more than just a sexual object and she didn’t need some creepy frat guy thinking dirty thoughts about her only moments after meeting her. I cleared my throat, reaching for my drink. I took a long sip as she raised her brows, offering me a sly smirk as she sipped at her own drink. 
“Eleanor is a really sweet girl.” I rested my can on the marble countertop. “She’s been having trouble making friends over here, so it’s nice that she’s found someone to hang out with besides us.” 
“I really like her.” Piper said softly. “I’ve been having trouble making friends, too. I’m not really the best at putting myself out there, you know?”
“I think you’re doing just fine.” I flashed her a reassuring smile, noticing how her cheeks turned a shade darker. “I don’t think I’ve fully introduced myself, love. I’m Harry.”
“I’m Piper.” She held her hand out and I took it, giving it a soft shake. “It’s nice to meet you, Harry.” 
Her skin was so bloody soft, her hands a little cold and damp from the can she was holding. 
“You too.” I said. “If you need anything tonight, please don’t hesitate to find me. I know how overwhelming these parties can be and I’ll be happy to keep you company or walk you out for some fresh air if you need it.” 
“Thank you.” She said softly. “The same goes for you. If you need any company tonight, I’m your girl.” 
Just like that, my mind was back in the gutter. 
All I could hear in my head was the echoes of her sweet moans, her voice chanting over and over again ‘M’your girl, Harry. Yours’. I cleared my throat, giving her a tight smile as I tried to avoid thinking about her tucked in my sheets, writhing and gasping as I licked into her. 
I was so totally fucked.
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“Piper, babe,” I laughed, holding her hips tightly as she swayed. “I think we should sit you down for a minute, yeah?”
“If I sit, I’ll sleep.” She whined, looking up at me with her sweet puppy dog eyes. “Where did Eleanor go?” 
“Eleanor is going upstairs with Louis.” I said softly, digging my fingers into the fleshy skin above the waistband of her jeans. “Do you want me to take you home?”
She pursed her lips, shaking her head as she pressed her hands into my shoulders. 
I knew exactly how we’d gotten here. 
The party was still going strong around us, people dancing and shouting as Piper swayed in front of me. I wanted so badly to brush her hair from her face and stroke the soft skin of her cheek, but I would never do something like that when she was this off her face. Holding onto her hips was already too intimate for my liking, but I was afraid she would topple over without some form of support. She swayed forward, her eyes face pinching up ever so slightly before she pressed one hand to her forehead. I frowned, pulling her closer as a group of guys rushed by.
If Niall hadn’t suggested we play four drinking games in a row, Piper and Eleanor might not have been off their faces within the first two hours of the party. I had to admit that I didn’t exactly mind taking care of Piper. She was a funny drunk, silly puns and snide comments slipping from her lips carelessly as she leaned against me. It was when her eyes started to drift shut and her body started to sway, that I started to worry about her. I pulled her into the kitchen alongside a giggly Eleanor, handing them both bottles of water while I quickly cooked up some pizza rolls that Niall had hidden in the freezer. Both girls ate between loud laughs, knocking into each other as I watched them with a small smile on my face.
 Seeing Eleanor happy made me happy, but seeing her happy with the girl of my dreams made me feel like I was on cloud nine. 
“Mate,” Louis’ hand clapped down on my shoulder and I turned my head as Piper’s body fell into mine. “I can take her off your hands. El told me they live in the same halls-”
“She can barely stand on her own, Lou.” I shook my head, glancing down as she rested her head on my shoulder. “Gonna go put her to bed in my room. I’ll sleep on the couch after everyone is gone.”
“Lock the door if you leave her up there.” Louis said. “I’m going back up to El in a minute, but I figured I should get some painkillers and water for the morning.”
“Bring some up for Piper?” I asked him. “I probably won’t leave her alone in there, knowing all of these jackasses are around.”
“Tell me about it.” Louis snorted out a laugh, shaking his head. “I’ll be up in five.”
I nodded, watching him disappear through the crowd of people in our living room. 
“Hey, love,” I said softly. “Gonna take you upstairs and tuck you in, okay?”
“Kay.” She mumbled, turning her head until her nose brushed against the column of my neck. 
I made a mental note to have a talk with her tomorrow about going places with strangers when she was drunk. I knew that I meant no harm, but we were still getting to know each other. It set off a level of worry that I only ever felt when it came to my Mum or Sister. It was almost a primal need to protect, my arms winding tightly around her as I guided her to the stairs. 
It was no easy feat to get her up the staircase, but when we finally made it to my room, she snapped into a more alert mode. She looked up, her tired eyes growing as wide as they could before she brushed some of her hair out of her face. She looked up at me, her eyes searching my face as I pressed my hand lightly to her lower back. 
“Thank you for taking care of me, Harry.” She said softly. “I’m really sorry I’m ruining your fun.” 
“Nonsense, love.” I shook my head. “S’just another party, there will be plenty more.” 
“Still.” She mumbled. “I don’t want to take your bed. Sleeping on the couch is bad for your back and I overheard that you have a match tomorrow.”
“S’alright.” I said. “I’ve slept on a floor before a match and still kicked ass, Piper. I don’t mind giving my bed up for a good cause.”
She let out an aggravated sigh, rolling her eyes at me. 
I tried not to smile as she grumbled under her breath, reaching for the doorknob to my bedroom door. I followed in behind her, flicking the light switch on before I shut the door behind me. Piper staggered a little and I hovered, my hands waiting to catch her should she fall. Instead, she stumbled over to my bed on bambi like legs, collapsing on the foot with a soft groan. 
“You need some help?” I asked her as she lifted her leg, struggling with her shoe. She merely waved her hand at me, shaking her head. “You want something comfy to change into? I’ve got sweats, shorts-”
“Sweats sound lovely.” She mumbled, a soft ‘aha’ falling from her lips as she finally tugged the shoelace of her boot out of a knot. “You’re a true gentleman, has anyone ever told you that?” 
“My Mum.” I chuckled, walking over to my dresser in search of comfy clothes. 
“S’good,” Piper sighed out as her boot hit the floor. “Hard to find a proper gentleman these days, Harry. I think Jude Law was the last of them.”
“I won’t argue with you there.” I shook my head, trying to contain my laughter as I sifted through my sweatpants. I settled on my favorite pair, the light grey fabric soft and worn. “Do you want a t-shirt to sleep in or a long sleeve shirt?”
“Um, t-shirt.” She mumbled. “Your room is lovely. Did you do all of the decorating yourself?”
“I did, yeah.” I nodded. “Brought a few key things from home, but I spent most of my money in Target when I got here.” 
“Amen to that.” She hiccuped softly. “I like your record player. I’ve always wanted one of those.”
“One day you’ll have to come up and listen to some records with me.” I glanced at her over my shoulder, noting how the corners of her lips ticked up into a girlish grin. “What kind of music do you like?”
“All of it.” She said simply, her voice trailing off. “I’ve always been a fan of classical music for studying. My mom calls me a psychopath.”
“They are known for indulging in the genre.” I snorted, pulling out a white t-shirt before I turned around. “I think that’s lovely, though. I’ve heard some good stuff from Bach in my music theory class and I have to say, it makes for good studying music.”
“That’s what I’m saying.” She said. “I love me some cello, mate.”
“Look at that.” I hummed out, holding the clothes out to her. “Got you talking like a proper brit now, don’t we. Didn’t even know what footy was at the start of the night.” 
“Piss off.” She grumbled, trying to hide her amusement as she mocked my accent. 
“I’m gonna run to Louis' room while you get dressed, okay?” I said. “Gonna steal you some makeup wipes from El’s overnight bag so we can take your makeup off. I want you to lock the door and don’t open it for anyone besides me. I don’t care if it’s Niall or god himself, alright?”
“Alright.” She whispered softly. “You’re really fucking nice, Harry.”
I tried to resist the urge to brush my knuckles over the soft skin of her cheek, but I couldn’t. 
I inhaled sharply as she closed her eyes, leaning into my touch with a soft hum. 
“I’ll be right back.” I said softly. “Lock the door.”
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Piper’s POV 
Falling in love with Harry took me all of five minutes. 
I decided that it was physically impossible not to love someone so perfect. He was a real gentleman, keeping his hands in respectful spots even when I was falling all over him, drunk off my ass. I felt a little guilty about being so touchy-feely with someone I hardly knew, but I was comfortable around him from the start. He stood by my side for most of the night, talking with Eleanor and I as we tossed shots back like water. 
I stood up from the foot of his bed, fiddling with the button on my pants. My vision was most definitely blurry and my fingers were shaking as I swayed on my feet, but I managed to pull the button from the loop before I shoved my pants down my legs. It took a bit of wiggling to get my ass settled into Harry’s sweats, an article of clothing clearly meant for a man with no….assets. 
With a soft hiccup, I worked on my shirt, tossing it to the ground before I reached behind me to take off my bra. My drunk brain didn’t care about etiquette or embarrassment anymore. That all flew out the window with my third shot of tequila that Niall handed over. When I settled the fabric of Harry’s shirt over my tired limbs, I heard a soft knock at the door. 
I stumbled over, pressing my ear against the wood to hear who was there. I was plastered, yeah, but I remembered Harry’s speech about not opening the door for anyone. 
“Who is it?” I called out, my voice breaking just a little. 
“S’me.” I heard Harry’s gruff voice. “S’Harry.” 
I flicked the lock on the door, opening it up with a soft smile. 
Harry held up some makeup wipes and a bottle of water, flashing me a cheesy grin. I laughed, shutting the door and flicking the lock behind him again as he walked into his room. When I turned around, my arms crossed over my chest, he was looking at my body with soft eyes. 
“Everything feel comfy enough to sleep in?” He asked. 
“Yeah, thanks.” I nodded. 
“Alright.” He nodded, looking up at me with glassy jade eyes. “Let’s get you tucked in, shall we?”
I smiled, walking over to his bed. 
I picked the side farthest from the door and closest to the window. 
Harry pulled back the covers, waiting for me to climb in before he rested them over my legs. He set the bottle of water on the bedside table, two painkillers falling to the wood next to the plastic bottle. He sat down next to my legs, ripping into the makeup wipes with ease. I watched him pluck a sheet out before closing the pack back up, tossing it to the nightstand with the other items. I rolled my lips in as he turned towards me, holding the cloth out. 
“Do you want me to do it?” He asked. “Just so you know it’s all gone?” 
“Yes, please.” I nodded. 
I could take my makeup off in my sleep. 
I’d done it before, actually. 
But there was something about being doted on by Harry that I wasn’t ready to give up just yet. 
I preened as he wiped the cloth over my skin with gentle strokes, swiping away concealer and highlighter with ease. I let my eyes slip shut when he asked, his index finger gently brushing at the small bit of liquid liner and shimmery shadow on my lids. When it got to my lips, he did a few quick dabs before his touch was gone from my face all together. 
“All clean.” He smiled, tossing the wipe towards the bin in the corner of the room. “Alright, I’m going to tuck you in and turn on a movie. I’ll just be on the floor next to you if you need anything at all. Bathroom is through that door right there.”
“Don’t sleep on the floor.” I rolled my eyes. “I’m okay with sharing a bed with you, Harry. Friends do that all the time, don’t they?”
“But you’re drunk.” He said softly. “And I don’t want you to feel pressured or uncomfortable-” 
“I don’t.” I said. “From the moment we met, you’ve made me feel very welcomed and comfortable. I promise that I don’t feel unsafe or pressured in any way, Harry. If you feel more comfortable sleeping on the floor, then I understand, but I’m okay with you sleeping next to me.”
Harry reached up to rustle his long strands of hair, his curls flopping about as he looked at me with a curious gaze. He inhaled sharply, nibbling on his lower lip as I stared back at him with raised brows and an amused grin. 
“I’ll put a pillow wall between us and everything.” I said. “If it makes you feel comfortable.”
“I just don’t want you to wake up in the morning and freak out.” He said softly. “You’ve had a lot to drink and if you don’t remember any of this tomorrow, it might be a little scary to wake up with a strange man in your bed.”
“Well, it’s your bed.” I said softly. “And I’ve been worse off than this and still remembered what happened the night before, Harry. I come from a very small town where drinking is considered a sport. This is a regular Tuesday for me.”
“Alright.” He whispered through a breathy laugh. “But if you change your mind at any point through the night, feel free to kick me out of bed.”
“I won’t.” I rolled my eyes. “Get ready for bed, yeah? You’ve got a big day tomorrow and I can’t have you losing a match because of me. People will think I’m bad luck.”
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Harry’s POV 
When I woke up in the middle of the night, our pillow wall was gone. 
Piper’s cheek was pressed into her pillow, soft puffs of air escaping her parted lips as she tightened her grip on my shirt. Her hand was resting on my tummy and her foot was hooked over my calf muscle, but she remained on her side of the bed. I lay there for a minute, watching her peaceful face as she slept. I tried to commit her features to memory, my heart squeezing in my chest as she shuffled around a bit. I rested my hand over hers, softly brushing my fingers over her knuckles as her body moved just a little closer to mine. 
The dry feeling in my mouth pulled me from my peaceful moment, urging me to go downstairs for my own bottle of water. It was silent in the house, no more music pumping through the speakers downstairs, and I felt safe enough to leave Piper on her own in my room without the doors locked. I would only be gone for a few minutes at the most, running down for water before I ran back up to curl back up next to the sleeping girl in my bed. 
When I made it downstairs, Louis was already in the kitchen.
“Hey,” I grumbled, walking over to the fridge. “What are you doing up?”
“Same as you.” He said. “Thirsty.”
“Hmm.” I nodded. “Eleanor still knocked out cold?”
“Yeah.” He chuckled. “Love that girl to death, but she snores like a bloody chainsaw.”
“That she does.” I laughed, pulling a water bottle out. “I’m glad she’s got Piper as a friend. It was nice to see her unwind tonight.”
“It was.” Louis nodded, pressing his hip into the countertop. “Piper likes you.”
I nearly choked on my water as Louis looked up at me. 
“What?” I asked. “How on earth-” 
“It’s obvious, mate.” Louis rolled his eyes, an amused grin on his lips. “She’s got a bit of a crush on you, but what girl doesn’t?”
“Lou-” I said slowly, my eyes narrowing. “Why do I feel like you’re about to give me a speech.”
“It would break my heart if Eleanor lost her as a friend, Harry.” Louis said softly. “She doesn’t have anyone over here and I at least have you and Niall, you know? If she lost Piper because you two decided to fool around and things ended badly-”
“That’s not what this is.” I said quickly. “And I don’t appreciate what you’re trying to say, either. I would never hurt Piper, or anyone, on purpose. She’s a very sweet girl and it just so happens that I’ve liked her for a while.”
“You know each other, then?” Louis brows arched up and I sighed. “Wasn’t aware.” 
“We don’t know each other, but I’ve seen her around campus.” I mumbled. “Always had my eyes on her, Lou. She’s fucking gorgeous.”
“Harry,” Louis said softly. “I’m asking you as a friend, please don’t get involved.” 
“That’s a shitty thing to ask.” My voice was hoarse. “It’s late and we’re both still pissed. I’m going to bed.” 
“Just think about it.” He said, knocking his knuckles against the countertop. 
Lucky for Louis, it was all I could think about for the rest of the night.
                                         🥃🔸🥃🔸🥃🔸🥃🔸🥃
Piper’s POV 
When I woke up the next morning, I could feel Harry’s heartbeat against my cheek.
The annoying beeping of his alarm had me groaning and turning my face into his chest. I heard him mutter a soft series of ‘sorry’s’ before it turned off. Harry’s arm draped over my back, holding me against his chest as I closed my eyes again. I let out a soft hum as he brushed his fingers up and down my back, his chest rising and falling slowly under my head. 
“I see that we’ve lost the pillow wall.” Harry’s voice was deep and raspy, causing a shiver to run up my spine. 
“Sorry.” I whispered, lifting my head up as I pressed my palm to his chest. “I guess I tossed it aside in the middle of the night.” 
“You did.” He chuckled softly. “You pushed it down with your feet and then you pulled it out and chucked it because you were trying to get comfortable.” 
“You watched me?” I asked, blinking a few times to try and focus my vision as I rested my chin on the back of my hand.
“I felt you flopping around like a fish out of water and I had to check on you.” He said slowly, his own eyes still shut. “I fell back asleep and when I woke up for a wee you were snuggled so tightly against me that I could barely pry you off.”
“I didn’t know that I was a cuddler.” I mumbled softly. “I’ve never really slept in a bed with anyone else before.”
“Well, you can tick that box off of your bucket list.” He smiled, his fingers still brushing over my back as I looked down at him. “You staring at me?” 
“A little.” I confessed, a small smile creeping up on my lips. “Think you’re pretty.”
“Love,” He let out a breathy chuckle. “Easy.”
“What?” I asked, dropping my head back to his chest. “Why can’t I say you're pretty? We spent the night together, I’m allowed to compliment you a little.”
“Do you think it’s a good idea to flirt with me?” He cleared his throat, shifting around under me. I groaned, falling back to the pillow next to him. “Do friends flirt?”
Friends.
I should have known better. 
There was no way on earth someone like Harry would want to be with someone like me.
“Friends can call each other pretty.” I said dejectedly, turning on my side. “And friends can cuddle, too.”
“Well, if it makes you feel better, you’re an amazing cuddler.” He said softly, pressing his palm to my bicep as he leaned over to kiss my temple. “You’re welcome to sleep more if you’d like, but I would love to take you out to breakfast.”
“Breakfast?” I turned my head, looking at him with furrowed brows. “I thought you had a match this morning?”
“I’ve got a few hours.” He rested his body next to mine, his head falling on the pillow next to mine lazily. “Eleanor will be at the match.”
“I know.” I whispered. 
“You should sit with her.” Harry smiled. “I would like that.”
“Okay.” I said softly as he snaked his arm underneath my own, curling it around my middle. I tried to fight off a smile. “Thought we were getting up?”
“Few more minutes.” He mumbled. “You smell nice. S’that your perfume or your shampoo?”
“Probably both.” I smiled, resting my palm over his forearm. “Both sweet pea scented.”
“Piper.” He mused. “Sweet pea.”
“What are you mumbling about?” I asked, trying to contain my giggles at his sleepy rambling. 
“Gonna call you sweet pea.” He mumbled. “Because your name starts with a P and you’re so sweet.” 
Fuck being friends. 
I liked this boy.
And no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t ignore the fluttering feeling in my stomach. 
I was truly fucked.
                                           ⚽️🔹⚽️🔹⚽️🔹⚽️
December
Piper’s POV 
There were only a few seconds left in the match and our boys were killing it. 
Eleanor gripped my hand tighter as Louis shouted to Niall across the field. Seconds later, he was kicking the ball with the side of his foot. Harry was much closer to the goal, ready to land the winning kick into the goal. I looked at him, his chest heaving and his hairline coated in a thin sheen of sweat. His face was intense and it made my thighs clench ever so slightly to see him so serious. He was always so attractive in the middle of a game, his brows pulled together and his lips pinched tightly together. I loved watching him pull his hair up before a game, twisting the long strands around before he tossed it up in a bun on top of his head. 
“He’s got this.” I said. “Come on, Lou!”
“He’s gonna pass to Harry.” She shook her head. “He has to, babe. He’ll miss from back there.”
“They have five fucking seconds.” We always got a bit snippy during games, but never at each other. “It better be a flawless fucking pass.”
Louis passed the black and white checked ball to Harry with a swift kick and I held my breath, waiting to see what would happen. Harry pushed a guy on the opposing team gently with his shoulder, sliding low until his foot collided with the ball. Just as the last second ticked down, it collided with the net behind the goal and Harry collapsed on his back as players rushed around him. 
Everyone cheered loudly, Eleanor jumping up with a loud cheer alongside the crowd. I could barely move, my heart thumping so loudly that it was all I could hear. I watched Harry’s back flat on the ground, my eyes watering as he continued to stay still. When I saw him sit up, shaking his head, I finally took a deep breath. Moments later, Louis and Niall were lifting him up on their shoulders. 
“Thank, fuck.” I whispered, standing up next to Eleanor as I clapped. 
Harry’s eyes flitted to the stands, landing on mine with a wide grin. 
He was covered in mud and dirt, but he was fine. 
Eleanor grabbed my hand, guiding me down towards the field. 
She was quick to launch on Louis when her feet hit the grass and Niall was quick to run over and scoop me up. I patted him on the back, laughing as he shook me around in his arms. 
“We won!” He cheered. “We bloody won!” 
“I know!” I chuckled, brushing my hand over the back of his head. “I’m proud of you, Ni.”
He put me on my feet, pressing a kiss to my cheek before he turned around to Harry. He grabbed his best mate by the face, kissing his forehead before he ran off shouting something that was terribly hard to make out. I rolled my eyes, steadying myself on my feet. Harry walked over to me, holding his arms out with that same wide and cheeky grin on his lips. 
“Come give your best mate a hug,” He said. “Gotta thank my good luck charm.”
“Harry, no.” I said, holding my hands up. “You’re covered in mud and grass and- Harry!” 
I squealed, taking off on the grass as Harry chased me. 
I dodged a few members of the opposing team, apologizing profusely. 
It didn’t take very long for Harry to wrap his arms around me, pulling me against his chest. 
“I deserve a bloody hug, sweet pea.” He squeezed me tight. “I won!”
“I know, but you’re gross.” I groaned, dropping my head back. “You get to shower before we go to lunch and I don’t.” 
“You could always join.” He whispered, his lips brushing against the shell of my ear. “Know you’ve been dying to see me naked, haven’t ya pea?”
“I will elbow you.” I grumbled, spinning around in his arms. “Don’t be a prick.”
“Just like watching you blush, Piper.” He reached over, pinching my cheek softly. “Where are we going for lunch today?” 
“Where do we always go for lunch?” I rolled my eyes. “Go on, get cleaned up so we can go.”
“Fine, fine.” He sighed. “I’ll see you in ten?”
“I’ll be here.”
I walked back over to Eleanor and Louis, my mind stuck on Harry’s cheeky comment. 
I hated when he did stuff like that. 
He was always toying with my emotions, pulling me to and fro like I didn’t have any feelings at all. He knew that I had a crush on him and he knew that it sucked for me to be so close, but I had the power to stop it at any time. The truth was that I couldn’t stomach the thought of being away from him like that. I wanted him in my life, no matter how I could have him. I walked towards Eleanor with a heavy sigh, crossing my arms over my chest as she kissed Louis deeply. 
Being around a couple constantly was torture when you weren’t apart of one yourself. Especially when the person you wanted to be a couple with was always around anyways. When the pair were done kissing, Louis ran off towards the stadium to take a shower in the locker room. Eleanor smiled over at me and I gave her a blank stare, my lips turning down. 
“What happened?” she asked softly. 
“He’s done it again!” I tossed my hands up. “He was all ‘you should come shower with me, I know you want to see me naked’. Isn’t he the one who keeps insisting we should just be friends?” 
“He’s an idiot.” She rolled her eyes. “I hate that he keeps doing this and I hate that you won’t let me talk to him about it.”
“I don’t want to come between you and an old friend, El.” I shook my head. “He’ll grow up eventually, I guess. If he doesn’t, I guess I’ll have to start moving on.”
“I think you two would be so perfect for each other, babe.” She sighed. “I don’t know what his deal is!”
“Has Louis said anything?” I ask softly. “I don’t want to pry but-”
“Not a word.” She said, her sympathetic grin causing my heart to sink. “He spends all of his time with you and we both know that he’s into you, but something is holding him back.”
“Yeah.” I grimaced. “I like him so much, El.”
“I know.” She frowned. “I wish I could smack some sense into that thick skull of his. I mean, men can be so daft and then they say we’re the complicated ones!”
“I know!” I exclaimed. “Anyways, you and Lou are still coming to lunch with us, right?”
“Yeah.” She nodded. “Louis is dying for a turkey apple sandwich.”
“That does sound good.” I hummed out. “I was thinking about soup, though, it’s freezing out here.”
“Oh, soup.” She groaned out. “That’s perfect,”
                                                        ⚽️🔹⚽️🔹⚽️🔹⚽️
Harry’s Pov
I wrapped my towel around my waist, letting out a heavy sigh as I turned the faucet off. 
I hated what I was doing to Piper. 
My sweet pea.
I couldn’t help but rile her up like that, watching her face flush red as I whispered in her ear. 
Part of me was certain that I was riling her up so that she would make the first move. If that was the case, maybe Louis would realize that our feelings for each other were real. 
“Mate,” Louis said. “What was that on the field?” 
“What do you mean?” I asked, my brows furrowing as I walked up to my locker. “We won, Lou.”
“I meant when you were chasing Piper.” He said. “That was flirting, Harry.”
I snapped my mouth shut. 
If he heard the things that passed between Piper and I when we were alone, he’d be livid. 
It was borderline verbal sex with us sometimes, the tension so thick that it had her clamping her legs shut and me shifting in my seat. 
“Was just teasing her, Lou.” I rolled my eyes. “You’re not getting onto Niall for picking her up and kissing her face.”
“Niall means no harm.”
“And neither do I.” I shot him a glare. “Mind your mouth.”
“Why her, Harry?” He sighed. “You could have any bird or lad on campus and you want her, why?”
“Because she’s Piper.” I turned towards him. “She’s the one that I want, okay. I can’t tell you why I think about her every moment of the day or why I want to be with her, I just do. I want to be there for her and you’re stupid fucking fear for Eleanor is standing in my way.”
“You can do what you want.” Louis’ jaw tensed. “M’not standing in your fookin’ way, mate.”
“But you are!” I shouted. “You are because you know that I would never do anything to hurt you or El because you’re family to me. You asked me not to do something and I’m being respectful of that because I respect you. I can’t say that you respect me though, because you would never ask this of me if you did. Can’t you see that this is killing me?”
Louis let out a frustrated huff as I turned back to my locker. 
I grabbed my clothes, angrily pulling them on before I ran my towel over the wet strands of my hair. Piper would be pissed to see me pulling at my curls instead of properly scrunching them up with a soft t-shirt, but I couldn’t be arsed to care about that right now. I slammed my locker shut, hiking my bag onto my shoulder before I stormed out of the locker room. When I walked out onto the field, Eleanor and Piper were whispering amongst themselves. 
“I just don’t get it.” Piper let out a sad sigh. “I want-”
“I know, babe!” Eleanor interrupted her with a chipper voice, pressing her hand to Piper’s bicep with a wide smile. “I wish they still had pumpkin spice too, I already miss it.”
“You women and your pumpkin spice.” I grumbled, pressing my hand to Piper’s hip before I leaned down to kiss her cheek. “Know you miss it, Pea, but it’s peppermint season now.”
“You’re right.” She gave me a playful pout. “I guess I can survive with that for now.”
“Thatta girl.” I chuckled, pulling my hand back as she reached up to touch my hair. “What?”
“You didn’t scrunch your hair properly, H.” She sighed. “I’ve told you to take better care of these curls! They’re going to be frizzy when they dry.”
I licked over my bottom lip, resisting the urge to lean down and kiss the pout off of her lips. 
“Sweet Pea, I’m sorry.” I said softly. “I was in a little bit of a rush, yeah? Wanted to get my favorite girls to lunch.”
“In that case, I guess I can forgive you.” She mumbled. 
                                                    ☕️☕️☕️☕️
Piper’s POV 
I sipped at my peppermint latte as Harry tossed a french fry into his mouth. 
“So when are you all flying home?” I asked. “Only a few weeks left until Christmas and exams are almost over.”
“El and I are flying out next Friday.” Louis said, smiling over at his girlfriend. “I’m excited to see me Mum and sisters.”
“Me too.” Eleanor nodded. “Missed them all.”
“What about you, H?” I asked. 
“I decided to stay.” He shrugged. “I don’t want to disrupt my schedule mid year, you know? It’ll be hard for me to get back into things come January if I spend an entire three weeks vegging out with Mum and Gem.”
“Oh.” I said softly, my face falling as he cleared his throat. 
He was avoiding something and he was sad about it. 
“I’m not going home either.” I said softly. “Too expensive to fly around the holiday’s, you know? Don’t make nearly enough being a full time fan girl for the footie team.”
“Tell me about it.” Eleanor rolled her eyes playfully. “Who do I talk to about getting that raise I was promised.”
“Oh, you get plenty as it is.” Louis leaned forward, capturing her lips. “Pay you in love and other things.”
Harry let out a frustrated sigh, standing up from the table. 
“I’ve gotta go.” He pulled his wallet out, tossing twenty five dollars onto the table. “S’enough for both of us and the tip, Pea. I’ll see you later in Mcgregor Hall for our study session.”
“H-”
“Bye.” He leaned over, pressing a sloppy kiss to my forehead before doing the same to El. 
I watched him storm out with a confused look on my face. 
“Should I not have asked about Christmas?” I looked at Eleanor with soft eyes. “I can’t….El, I can’t do this anymore.”
“Babe, it’s gonna be fine.” She said softly. “He’s just a bit moody today, isn’t he? Misses his Mum a whole lot, it has nothing to do with you.” 
“What are you two on about?” Louis asked, glancing between us. “Is something going on between you and Harry?”
“No.” I shook my head. “That’s the problem.”
“They have this chemistry and Piper really likes Harry, but he told her that being friend’s was their best option.” Eleanor explained softly. “Sometimes he’s sweet on her though and it makes her sad because she wants him.”
“El.” I mumbled, my cheeks growing warm. “He doesn’t need all of the details.”
“You like that miserable sod?” Louis asked. “You’re not worried about a relationship with him ruining your friendship?” 
“Not really.” I shook my head at Louis. “Harry and I will always be friends.” 
“No, I mean,” Louis sighed. “You’re not worried about it ruining you and Eleanor’s friendship?”
“No.” I said slowly. “What are you talking about?”
“I feel like if you and Harry were to break up, you wouldn’t want to be friends with El because he’s always around.” Louis said softly. “Wouldn’t that be hard?”
“For a bit, yeah.” I shrugged. “We’re both mature, though. I think we could work through any differences and remain friends.”
“Why are you being so nosy?” Eleanor narrowed her eyes, looking at Louis. “What have you done?”
“Nothin’!” Louis exclaimed. “I’ve not done anythin’.”
“Louis!” She cried out. “You’re lying to me.”
“M’not.” He fidgeted in his seat, avoiding her gaze. “Swear I meant well.”
“Louis, what did you do?” I asked softly, my heart dropping as he avoided my gaze. “What did you do?”
“I didn’t do anything, I just…” He licked over his bottom lip, looking between Eleanor and I with wide eyes. “I just asked him to consider your friendship with Eleanor before making any moves on you. I didn’t want to see her lose her best friend, you know?”
“You’re a sodding prick, Louis Tomlinson.” Eleanor snapped. “You knew that Harry would respect that if you asked. He thinks of you as a brother and he would do anything for you.”
“I have to go.” I grabbed my bag and my coat. “I have to find Harry.”
“Go on,” Eleanor said. “I’ve got a very naughty boyfriend to deal with.”
                                           ❄️💠❄️💠❄️💠❄️
The first place I ran to was the frat house. 
Harry wasn’t there and Niall hadn’t seen him at all. 
The second place I ran was the park on the far end of campus that we often spent weekends at.
He wasn’t there either. 
When I finally found him, I was only a little shocked. 
“You just played a match, mate.” I let out a relieved sigh when he snapped his head up, his eyes softening when he saw me. “What are you doing out here?”
“Just needed to clear my head.” He said as I walked closer. “Why are you here?”
“I had to see you.” I took a deep breath, swiping the ball from between Harry’s feet with a swift kick. It landed in the goal and Harry let out an amused, but breathy chuckle. “I’m getting good.”
“You’ve got a good teacher.” He snorted out a laugh. “Everything okay, sweet pea?”
“No.” I said. “You see, I’ve got this friend and he’s having some girl trouble.”
“Oh, yeah?” He asked. “What’s his deal?”
“He really likes this girl and he flirts with her all the time, but he hasn’t made a move.” I shrugged, glancing up at Harry. “There’s this other friend of theirs that asked an impossible favor of him and he’s being loyal, which I admit is admirable, but a little daft, as you would say.”
Harry’s Adam's apple bobbed up and down softly and he looked over my head. 
“He does sound quite daft, doesn’t he?” He let out a soft laugh, closing his eyes. “Piper-”
“It makes me love him more though.” I said softly. “The fact that he’s putting aside his feelings because he’s that loyal to the people he loves. It’s stupid, but really sweet.”
“You think so?” He asked, his eyes a little watery as he looked down at me. 
“I do.” I nodded. “Why didn’t you talk to me about this, Harry? We share everything with each other and-”
“This was the one thing I couldn’t tell you, pea.” He said softly. “I never wanted to hurt you and...I knew that this would.  I didn’t want you to feel like I was choosing something over you, because that isn’t the case.” 
“Harry, it’s okay.” I said softly. “I would have understood and I also would have had a very long talk with Louis about minding his own business, darling. You’re free to be with whoever you want and no one can tell you otherwise.”
“What if I want to be with my beautiful best friend, pea?” He reached up, brushing his thumb over my chin. “What if I want to be with the girl that stole my heart the moment I saw her?”
“Then make a fucking move, Styles.” I let out a breathy laugh as he leaned closer. “She won’t wait around forever. She’s a fucking catch and-”
Harry’s lips pressed into mine, cold and wet and perfect. 
I pressed my fingers into his shoulders, gripping his coat tightly with glove covered fingers. 
He tilted his head slightly, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of my lips. 
“You’re perfect, Piper.” His breath washed over my lips as I shuffled closer, desperately seeking his body heat. “I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t apologize.” I said. “Just be with me, H. Be mine.”
“I’ve always been yours, Piper.” He brushed the tip of his nose over mine. “Always will be.”
When Harry’s lips pressed to mine again, something wet landed on my cheek. 
We both pulled back, looking up at the sky with wide smiles. 
“Snow.” I said softly. 
“Christmas miracle isn’t complete with snow, is it?” He teased, brushing his nose against mine. 
“Shut up and kiss me.” 
                                                 🎄❄️🎄❄️🎄❄️
Harry’s POV 
Louis looked like a child who had just been told Santa wasn’t real when Piper and I walked back into the cafe holding hands. He shot me a soft look that said ‘mate, I’m really sorry for being a dickhead’ and I gave him a tight smile in response. We still needed to have a talk about everything, but there was no use in fighting over something that was in the past now. It felt good, sitting next to Piper as her boyfriend and not just her best friend. It was sudden and my mind was still reeling, but I wouldn’t want it any other way. I walked her back to her dorm that night with a pout on my lips and our fingers tightly laced together. 
“I don’t want to say goodbye, pea.” I mumbled, my thumb brushing against her cheek softly as we stood in front of her door. “Just got you.”
“You’ve always had me.” She snorted out a soft laugh. 
“Never been able to make out with you, though.” I wiggled my brows. “Think we can finally carry through on all that sexual banter we’ve been partaking in.”
“Yeah.” She said quickly, her cheeks getting pinker. “But not tonight, H. Think we should take some time apart to think about things before we jump right in. It’s going to be a bit different now and I need to get used to the idea.” 
“Take as much time as you need.” I pressed my lips to hers in a soft kiss. “I’ll be waiting.”
I was only slightly regretting my words now. 
Everyone had left for Christmas and we had the house to ourselves. 
We were in the middle of a movie marathon in the living room, a few bottles of wine and takeout boxes scattered on the coffee table as we snuggled into each other. Piper’s head rested on my chest and her fingers rested against my stomach, slightly drumming over the bit of holiday weight I had put on over the last week or so. She looked so cute all snuggled up in my sweater and a pair of fluffy sucks, my sweatpants tucked into them carelessly. 
“You’re thinking too loud.” She whispered, lifting her head up. “What’s going on in your head, H?”
“Just thinking about how cute you are.” I smiled down at her. “You’re all snuggled up in my clothes with your pretty hair and your pretty eyes. I just can’t believe that I’m lucky enough to call you my girl.”
Her eyes searched my face as I reached up to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. 
“I want you.” She said softly. “But I’m scared.”
“I wasn’t…” I trailed off. “M’not trying to get in your pants, sweet pea. I just wanted you to know that I’m so in love with you.”
“And I’m in love with you.” She sat up. “And I would really, really like to show you how much I love you.”
“When you’re ready.” I said. “I know that you didn’t have the best first time and you’re a little nervous to dive back in, but I can wait. I want you to be one hundred percent ready when the time comes.”
She inhaled sharply before giving me a soft nod. 
“I love you.” I said, brushing my thumb over her bottom lip. “Get back over ‘ere, pea. Wanna snuggle you some more.”
                                               🎄❄️🎄❄️🎄❄️
Piper’s POV 
Harry was snoring softly in my ear on the couch. 
The sun had long gone down and the credits for The Holiday were rolling on the flatscreen in Harry’s living room. With a soft groan, I flipped around in his arms, nuzzling my face into his chest as he tightened his arms around me. The scent of his cologne filled my senses, nearly lulling me back to sleep. I was moments from falling back into dreamland when I felt something firm pressing between my thighs, causing my eyes to snap open. I pulled back to look at Harry’s face, his eyes still shut as he continued to softly snore. He was still fast asleep. 
I let out a soft gasp, my walls clenching down as I shifted against his thigh. I let out a soft gasp, my fingers tightening against his sweater as I stilled my hips. I tilted my head back, looking over his face as he slept peacefully. I didn’t want to wake him, but was done waiting. I wanted him. I wanted everything with Harry and I especially wanted to indulge passion filled moments with frantic hands and desperate kisses with a christmas film playing in the background. 
“Harry.” I said his name softly, my fingers trailing up his throat to cup his cheek. “Harry, baby, wake up.”
“S’wrong?” He asked, tucking his head down. “You alright?”
“I want you.” I said it softly, my heart pounding against my chest. “I’m ready.”
“Sweet pea, s’late.” He opened his eyes. “Are you sleep talkin’?”
“No.” I shook my head. “I mean it.” 
I rolled my hips, grinding my core against his thigh to really send the message through. 
“Piper.” He gasped, his eyes wide open. “Darling, what….what’re you doing?”
“Was trying to snuggle up to you and you put your thigh between my legs, H.” I said timidly, my face heating up under his gaze. His lips were curling into a soft smile and I bit the inside of my cheek. “It felt nice.”
“S’that why you want me?” He let out a breathy laugh, shaking his head. “Needy girl.”
“Please.” I whispered. “I need you.”
“I’ve got ye’.” He leaned down, pressing a series of soft kisses to my lips. “Gonna push your pants down, okay?”
I nodded, but she shook his head. 
“If we’re doing this, I want to hear you.” He said. “I need you to say what you want.”
“Take my pants off.” I griped, tilting my head back.
“Good girl.” 
Two little words.
They sent a shockwave through my body, running straight to my core. 
I let out a soft whimper as he pushed at the waistband of my pants. 
“M’too tired to fuck you.” He said softly. “But I promise to make you feel so good, sweet pea. Gonna have you cummin’ fo’ me.”
“Please.” 
I shifted my hips as he moved the waistband of my sweats to my thighs, his hand brushing up the skin of my leg to my hip. He gave it a soft squeeze as our lips collided and I squirmed beneath him. He pulled back, brushing his nose against mine with his eyes shut tight. 
“Do you want my fingers?” He asked me softly. 
“I do.” I nodded. “My fingers are too small and I can never get the angle right when I try.”
“Fuck, pea.” He groaned, opening his eyes. “You’re killing me, my love.”
“Just want to love you.” I pouted my bottom lip out. “Wanna feel good.”
“I know, darling.” He sponged a few soft kisses over my hairline. “Let me get on my back, okay. I want you to ride my fingers.”
Harry wrapped his arms around my body, turning onto his back. I fumbled, my chest pressed tightly to his as he let one of his hands trail over my bum. I whimpered when he tucked his fingers between the crease of my bum and my thigh, brushing the pads of his fingers over my lower lips. His other hand maneuvered its way between our bodies, his thumb brushing swiftly over my clit before it dipped towards my entrance. 
“S’this okay?” He asked. “You feel comfortable?” 
“Yes.” I nodded. “I’m good.” 
He inserted his thumb, pulling it out quickly before he slipped it back up to my clit. 
He rubbed soft circles over it as his fore and middle finger brushed over my entrance in a teasing manner. 
I rolled my hips, desperate to have them inside of me. 
“Yeah, just like that.” He said gruffly. “Ride my fingers, sweet pea. Take what you want from me.”
I gasped when he pushed two fingers into me, my slick walls stretching around them as I moved my hips. I pushed down as Harry curled his fingers up, stroking over that spongy spot inside of me. I moved my hips up, his fingers sliding out slowly before I fucked back onto them. He cooed, brushing the pad of his thumb over my clit in quick circles. 
“You’re so tight, Piper.” He whispered into my hairline as I gripped onto his shoulders. “You’re clenching my fingers so tight.”
“Feels so good, Harry.” I whimpered. “Wanna cum.”
“Are you close?” He asked, a teasing lilt to his voice. “My girl is so greedy, isn’t she? Gonna cum before I properly fuck her with my fingers becuase she wants it so bad, isn’t that right?”
“Yes.” I gasped against his throat. “I need to cum, Harry. It feels so good and I can’t...I need it, baby. Please let me cum.”
“Take it.” He said, sliding his free hand up to my hip. “Take it from me, Piper. Make yourself cum for me sweet pea.”
I felt my thighs clamping as he pressed harder against my clit, my hips stilling against his hand as he stroked that spongy spot inside of me. I felt my walls clenching down around his digits, my whole body warm as my mouth fell open. It was better than any orgasm I had ever experienced on my own and it had me crying out into the skin of his neck. He brushed his hand up my back, slowly slipping my fingers out as I started to come down. 
“You’re so good.” he whispered. “That was perfect, darling. Did so well for me, didn’t you, pea?” 
“That was nice.” I mewled. “Thank you, thank you-”
“Gonna treat you so good tomorrow, darling.” He promised, a sharp edge to his voice. “Gonna spend hours with my head between those pretty thighs and then I’m gonna fuck you like you want. Gonna have you screaming for me, sweet pea.”
I whimpered into his neck, nodding. 
“I want that.” I whispered. 
My eyes felt heavy as he started to pull my pants back up. 
“I love you so much, H.” I whispered, my eyes slipping shut as he covered me up. “Love you, darling.”
“I love you more, pea.” he whispered. “Go to sleep, baby. I’ll be right here when you wake up.”
I drifted off to the sound of Harry’s voice, my face snuggling into his shirt. 
This was all I ever needed. 
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littlespoonevan · 3 years ago
Text
i’ll be home but i don’t know when
askjdlfh ok i’ve read too many speculation fics this past week and now you’ve all got me speculating and i need to stop bc i’m gonna get my hopes up too much lmao but anyway in the meantime here’s this bc i couldn’t help myself 
4x13/14 speculation-ish, 1.6k
title: first week - vera blue
*
Buck sits in the waiting room, hands clasped between his knees, jiggling his foot as he stares at nothing. He’s lost track of how long he’s been here but it’s been long enough for the room to fill and empty at least three times, long enough that one of the nurses had offered to get him a cup of coffee from the cafeteria, long enough that he can’t feel the blood dried under his fingernails anymore.
“Buck!”
His gaze snaps up to the doorway and something inside him crumples at the sight of Christopher pulling himself into the room on his crutches. Carla is standing behind him with a hand on his shoulder but Buck hardly spares her a glance before he’s bolting out of his seat and crouching down in front of Christopher.
“Is my dad o-okay?” he asks, a tremor beneath his voice that makes his lip wobble and makes Buck want to bundle him up in his arms and never let him go.
“Hey, listen,” Buck says soothingly, hands flitting across Christopher’s shoulders before reaching up to cup his cheeks. “Your dad got hurt today but he’s in surgery right now and the doctors are gonna tell me when he’s finished.” He searches Christopher’s expression, tries to figure out the best thing to say to make it better. He knows nothing can though, not really, so he settles on, “You wanna wait with me?”
Christopher’s breath hitches and his eyes fill with tears and it’s all Buck can do to pull him into his arms – if only so Chris won’t see the tears Buck has been steadfastly trying to hold back ever since he got here.
He picks Christopher up, meeting Carla’s pitying gaze over his shoulder as she carefully slips the crutches off Christopher’s arms.
“I called Isabel and Pepa,” he tells her. “Told them I’d let them know when we hear anything; there’s no point in them coming down until then.”
She nods, pursing her lips. “Are you sure you don’t want me to keep him a while longer?”
Christopher picks his head up off Buck’s shoulder at that, arms clinging tighter around Buck’s neck. “I wanna stay with Buck. I wanna wait for dad.”
“It’s okay,” Buck murmurs, rubbing over his back and giving Carla a tired smile. “I’m sure. I’ll call if I need you though.”
She squeezes his arm, before passing him the crutches and pressing a careful hand to Christopher’s back. “I’ll see you tomorrow, sweetheart,” she says quietly. “Call me when you know something,” she adds to Buck and he nods.
When she’s gone he carries Christopher over to his chair. He considers putting Chris down in the seat beside him before deciding he probably needs the comfort as much as Buck does. So he sits down and keeps Christopher in his lap, rearranging him so he can sit more comfortably with his cheek pressed against Buck’s chest. Buck runs a hand through his hair, kisses his forehead, and tries to stop thinking about one of the last things Eddie had said to him.
“Take- Buck, take care of Christopher, okay? I don’t- he’ll want to stay with you-“
“Eddie, stop. He’s not- you’re not- you’re gonna be fine, okay? So stop- stop making plans. Just hold on, alright?”
Buck shakes his head, squeezing his eyes shut and taking a steadying breath. Fuck, he can’t lose him. He can’t- they’re only just- he can’t do this without Eddie. Work, life, whatever. He needs him here.
“Buck,” Christopher says quietly, fingers playing with one of the strings on Buck’s hoodie.
“Yeah, buddy?”
“Can we play I Spy?”
Buck’s breath catches and he presses his face into Christopher’s hair, allows himself the briefest moment to crack, before he nods. “Yeah,” he says, voice raw with unshed tears. “Yeah. You go first.”
*
The rest of the team arrive in stages. First Bobby, sitting in the chair right next to Buck’s and rubbing his back while Buck tries in vain to rock Christopher to sleep. Then Hen with coffees and a juice for Chris. Then Chim with the promise that he and Maddie can switch off taking care of Jee-Yun is Buck wants her instead. That very nearly does Buck in but he manages to stifle back the sob at the last minute.
Together, they wait but even the low hum of their conversations isn’t enough to drown out the sound of gunshots rattling around in Buck’s brain.
It should’ve been him.
As soon as they’d heard the shots Eddie had pushed him towards the other firefighter from the 133 and he’d pulled Buck behind the fire truck. Eddie hadn’t had a chance to get to safety.
It should’ve been Buck.
He’s not the one with a kid, the one with so much to come back for. It’s not fair.
“Evan Buckley?”
His head shoots up and he locates the doctor standing in the doorway. Christopher is dozing in his arms by now but he manages to stand without jostling him too much. “That’s me.”
The rest of the team stand with him, a silent bubble of support, as the doctor looks between him and the chart in his hand.
“You’re Eddie Diaz’s emergency contact,” he says and Buck nods, absently aware of the way Hen and Chim’s heads jerk to him in surprise.
“He’s out of surgery,” the doctor continues. “We were able to remove the bullet; it thankfully didn’t hit anything vital. He lost a lot of blood but we’ve given him a transfusion. They’re bringing him down to his room now; I can take you to see him when he’s settled.”
Buck feels himself deflate, is convinced he’d collapse if he wasn’t still holding Christopher, if Bobby didn’t immediately grip his shoulder. “Th-thank you,” he stammers out, breath rushing out of him all at once.
The doctor leaves and Buck blinks tears out his eyes as he ducks to whisper in Christopher’s ear. “Chris, hey, Did you hear that? Your dad’s okay.”
*
An hour later Buck finds himself in Eddie’s room, staring at him in the bed like if he looks away for too long he’ll disappear. Christopher is standing in front of him, holding Eddie’s hand, and Buck wonders if he should take him out of the room, if this might be too upsetting for him but then Chris says, “Can I get on the bed with him?” and Buck knows there’s nothing in the world that could make Christopher leave.
He also knows he should probably say no but honestly, if Buck didn’t still have one last shred of self-restraint he’s pretty sure he’d be the one climbing onto the bed with Eddie, hand on his chest to feel him breathing. So he picks Chris up under his arms and carefully lifts him onto the mattress, making sure he doesn’t disturb any of the wires.
“Careful not to move anything, buddy,” he says but Christopher only shifts enough to lie down, curling into Eddie’s side and letting his head rest on Eddie’s bicep. Buck feels a fresh wave of tears come at the sight but he doesn’t feel so bad about it now that Christopher isn’t looking at him anymore. He scoots his chair closer, picking up the hand Christopher had been holding earlier and linking his fingers with Eddie’s.
His grip is completely slack, completely unlike earlier when he’d squeezed Buck’s hand so tight right before he’d lost consciousness. Buck tries not to think about it.
He sits there long enough for Christopher to fall asleep again, long enough for him to forget the rest of the world is still moving outside the room, until eventually the hand in his twitches.
He blinks, looking down before he flits his gaze to Eddie’s face. He watches with bated breath as Eddie slowly comes to, eyelids flickering before finally opening properly. Eddie notices Christopher first and Buck swallows around the lump in his throat at the way Eddie’s entire being softens at the sight of his son, the way he closes his eyes again briefly like he’s memorising the feeling. When he opens his eyes the second time they find Buck and that’s as much as Buck can take before the emotion he’s been holding back for the last few hours comes flooding to the surface.
“Hi,” he whispers, voice thick as too many tears escape at once.
Eddie takes a breath and wets his lips, fingers twitching against Buck’s again. “Hi.” His voice is hoarse and gravelly but it’s Eddie’s voice and he’s okay and Buck can finally breathe again.
“I missed you.” And it sounds stupid but it’s true. Eddie’s eyes close once more and there’s the faintest hint of a smile on his lips.
“Can’t get rid of me that easy,” he mumbles, returning his gaze to Buck and he just- he looks so open, so unguarded in a way that Buck only rarely gets to see in their quietest moments.
He picks Eddie’s hand up, holding it between his own as he props his elbows on the mattress behind Christopher. He presses his lips to Eddie’s knuckles, doesn’t think about the implications other than needing him closer, other than needing to comfort him. “Thanks for coming back.”
“Thanks for not letting me go.”
Buck thinks of the moments before his hospital. Of his hand pressing against Eddie’s stomach to keep pressure on the wound, of his other hand touching Eddie’s face trying to keep him awake, of pulling him into his arms in those terrifying few seconds between Eddie losing consciousness and the ambulance arriving. Of holding his hand right down to the very last minute when they stepped into the hospital and Eddie had to be wheeled away.
And now, at his hand in Buck’s again, right where it’s supposed to be.
There’s more to say about it, more they could confess right now, but there’s time. They have time.
So Buck only nods, lacing his fingers more firmly with Eddie’s and offering him a smile he hopes says everything.
Eddie smiles back and it’s enough for now.
*
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my-writings-and-musings · 4 years ago
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henlo, i hope this one makes sense, but how about mtmte drift, rodimus and brainstorm (or at least just drift if thats too many!) with a human s/o (gender neutral pls!) who after hearing a compliment from their bots about them, the s/o's kneejerk reaction to to kinda laugh and say "u dont mean that" bc theyre so unused to genuine compliments? thank u so much!!!
It does make sense and it is extremely relatable so here comes some AFFIRMATIONS
Drift
"I love your eyes, have I told you that?"
You stopped, baffled, as soon the ninja bot's praise registered. Though his expression was certainly lovestruck enough to back up his words, the automatic response within you was starting up before you had broken out into a full blush. Your laugh was mechanical as you playfully waved a hand at his compliment.
"What's there to love about my eyes?"
Drift actually went quiet at your words and tilted his helm, expression going from confused to concerned before he spoke again. There was nothing but sincerity in his voice. "Everything, Y/N. You have the most brilliant and gentle gaze..."
"Oh, I really don't know about that." you replied again, still going on reflex at his kind but baffling words. Praise was not something you knew how to handle, so brushing it off just felt more comfortable. His reaction was a confusing first to this strategy. Why did he seem so worried about your dismissal? Surely he was just playing, words like his were never directed your way seriously. Yet he didn't seem to be at all teasing as he frowned in concern, leaning forward on the desk to be closer to you.
"I don't know how to make this any clearer, but please know I'm trying to convey as much truth as possible in my aura; I adore everything about you, including your eyes. I mean that with every part of my being."
The intensity of his words distracted you so thoroughly you didn't even realize he'd taken your tiny hands into his, gently resting your palms between two careful digits as he looked to you with the earnestness of someone swearing an oath.
"I..." you gasped, unable to find any words. What were you supposed to say to this? No one had ever said anything in such a way to you before, and believing he meant it just... didn't compute? Standing in a kind of broken silence was your only reply.
Understanding as ever, Drift smiled, softly and reassuringly. "You're not used to compliments yet, that's okay."
For some reason you teared up, but more due to some emotional blockage being cleared than anything else. Nodding, you tried not to think on how few memories you had of receiving kind words. There was next to nothing you could recall. Ever the supportive one, Drift placed a tiny kiss on your forehead, whispering as he did so. Warmth filled your heart at the comfort he brought with so simple an action, and for the first time you actually believed what he had to say.
"We'll fix that in time, I promise."
Rodimus
"You have the cutest smile, seriously."
Sitting atop the chest of the lounging captain, your laugh at his joke was cut short by the unexpected praise, and on instinct you worked to steer back to levity. A hand on the back of your neck helped you think through the flustered fog.
"Ha, of course! Whatever you say!" you replied haltingly, adjusting fake problems with your hair to have something else to focus on. Unlike always, the fun loving bot chose that moment to be serious. Frowning softly, he looked down at you as you remained awkwardly seated on his chest, and you couldn't bring yourself not to look at his big blue optics. There was so much concern in those striking blue depths.
"Hey, I know I joke around a lot, but I mean everything I say about loving you." he said softly, a hand looping about your back to keep you sitting up. Blinking in thought, you felt your mind hit a kind of wall. There was just no reconciling what he said with what you knew you be true. There was nothing to love about how you smiled.
"I... I wouldn't know..." you mumbled awkwardly, not knowing what to do and more or less freezing up. Compliments were just... hard. What were you supposed to do with them? How could a bot who'd seen so much think so highly of you? The uncertainty of those thoughts frightened you, and your hands began to knead of their own accord.
"Should I show you?" Rodimus asked suddenly, getting energized in the way he did when he wanted to prove something. There was no time to ask for clarification before you were being pulled in for a kiss. Two hands cupped your back as he smooched your head with overdramatic noises, followed by a number of tiny pecks along your upper forehead. The action was so ridiculous you could only laugh. Rodimus continued until you were snorting at the silliness of it all, and only then did he pull back with a triumphant grin.
"There it is, best smile on the ship..." he said softly, brushing a finger over your squishy cheeks as he did so. The warmth of his physical affection didn't fade this time, and you found yourself holding the digit close as you left a kiss on the tip. He melted in an instant at the contact, taking on a far off dreamy look that made it clear he adored you. There was no denying this mech meant every sweet word he directed your way, and despite a long history of doubting yourself, knowing that made it hard to feel you weren't worth something.
Brainstorm
"I can always count on you for the best feedback!"
Watching the scientist dangle from his rig, you found yourself pausing at his reply to your advice, enough so that you didn't have a response of your own until you saw him coming down. Brainstorm had asked if his new experimental weapon appeared functional from your angle on the bench, and all you'd done was say it looked to be especially curious from below. There was no way he'd actually found that helpful, so obviously he must have been joking.
"Of course, you couldn't do it without me." you said sarcastically, watching as the inventor righted himself and his weapon of still indeterminate use. Two bright optics affixed to you and made it clear a determined but obvious smile was hidden behind his mask.
"I couldn't! Of course it looks curious from the bottom; I didn't design it with zero gravity conditions in mind!" he said emphatically, placing the gun down beside you in order to work on it. His comment absolutely baffled you. Was he being serious? All you'd done was say the first thing that came to mind, and there wasn't much useful in that to a bot that restructured reality when it suited his needs.
"You would have figured that out without me." you said on your own, trying to close up the confusing little predicament. Unfortunately Brainstorm tilted his head at your comment, signaling it wasn't done but at least sounding like he wasn't at all frustrated when he replied.
"I don't think so. I couldn't exactly see myself from below, could I? You have a way of figuring out exactly what I need to hear." he said plainly, optics briefly squishing upwards in another smile as he did so. When you were too baffled to reply, he shifted to an expression of more obvious worry, putting his project aside to face you entirely. "I mean that, Y/N. I really feel like you say just what it takes to get me on track. You inspire me."
At those words your brain briefly turned to static. What was it you could possibly do to inspire him? There was nothing about you especially motivating, yet he looked too serious to be joking, so you had no clue how to reply. For the sake of your sanity you only smiled and waved a hand.
"Just... just doing what I do... Nothing special-"
"Y/N..." he interrupted gently, looking at you with the big tender optics that melted your heart every time. You weren't at all prepared for him to unlatch his mask, removing it from his lower face to reveal his full soft expression. Full lips frowned in concern as he lowered his helm to speak on your level. "I really like having you around. You know that, right?"
For reasons you didn't understand you were near to crying, and couldn't speak without the risk of shedding tears. Your partner gently lifted your chin with a digit, and on reflex you laid a hand on the tip of his finger, squeezing it for reasurance. Why was this so hard? Did most people struggle to accept when nice things were said about themselves?
A tender kiss on the back of your hand helped to clear your mind a bit. Looking back up at the sweet expression looking down at you, the love in his every minute feature as day, you admittedly felt a little better. Perhaps with time you could really believe someone so wonderful when they sang your praises, and by his expression you knew he'd endeavor to do just that.
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redrose-arrow · 3 years ago
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hi Duncan x halt anon here and you have NO IDEA what you’ve just unleashed (IVE BEEN WANTING TO TALK ABOUT THESE TWO FOR SO LONGN) but you said to go ahead and I will until it gets annoying!!!
ANYWAY so these two are...pretty different, right. But in the books Duncan lets Halt get away with a LOT and genuinely values him & Halt does have at minimum SOME respect for Duncan, bc I don’t think Duncan would tolerate just straight-up disrespect, but their dynamic is “very good friends friends who’ll tease/bully each other” more so than “loyal follower & royal leader”. SO what I’m thinking: after Crowley & Halt rescue him from the castle & they’re on their way to the tournament, Duncan realizes Halt is That Guy From The Ball That Duncan Totally Wasn’t Crushing On From Afar, and he’s like....BUT THEY SAID YOU WERE DEAD so Halt yanks him aside while Crowley’s distracted and is like “SHUT UP ILL TELL YOU LATER.” Duncan won’t tell Crowley or the others even if Halt doesn’t wanna explain but he IS very confused & Halt knows he won’t stop pestering him for an explanation...So he tells Duncan the story, late one night by the campfire, when Crowley is fast asleep. Halt keeps his voice low and he’s kinda reluctant to tell it at first but he gets through it, tells Duncan all about how his own brother resented him for being heir to a throne he never wanted in the first place, how he saw Ferris change and become more distant and manipulative over the years, how he witnessed firsthand how power could corrupt a man (and has the scars to prove it). Duncan asks about his parents, because surely they would’ve recognized the attempts on his life? “They fought too much to notice,” Halt says dismissively. “Even if they didn’t, I was hardly the son they would’ve wanted on the throne—Ferris was more charismatic, more amiable. I was the firstborn but he was their favourite, and I couldn’t quite bring myself to ruin that for them.” And he talks, eventually, about his little sister Caitlyn; the only one who saw what was going on and believed him when he told her, fever-ridden and delirious from a batch of “spoiled shrimp”, that Ferris was trying to kill him. The words come easier when Halt talks about Caitlyn and there’s something like a smile curled on his lips, and Duncan’s heart sorta skips a beat in his chest because Oh Right, I Used To Have A Crush On This Guy And It Turns Out I Still Kinda Do!!!! And then Halt talks about how Pritchard found him and how his mentor is the only one besides his terrible family who knows the truth about him & why he left, and maybe he doesn’t say it outright but he 100% implies that Pritchard is just so important to him. Like “father that I’ve never had, except I did have a father but he sucked and Pritchard was just so much kinder & better” kind of important
I took the liberty of copy-pasting your second ask so that no one else has to wait for the rest :)
"part 2 bc that was getting long,,,, ANYWAY, so Duncan and Halt stay up a bit longer talking—they move away from Ferris’ assassination attempts and just chat about other stuff for a bit. Duncan enjoys having another person to relate to abt the tediousness & honestly? the loneliness of royal life, and Halt honestly doesn’t expect to enjoy talking to someone else this much. The only other person he’s really connected to since coming to Araluen is Crowley, but Crowley is just enough of a bastard for Halt to tolerate (and maybe even like), so it’s a surprise that the other person he can connect with is a straight-laced prince. Also Duncan’s basically like “okay so this guy is an (ex?) crown prince, he’s INSANELY skilled & actually very funny in a deadpan, sarcastic way, AND he’s helping me take back my kingdom from an evil baron....yeah I can get behind this”. So yadda yadda they get through the confrontation with Morgarath at the tournament, and, true to his word, Duncan doesn��t tell any of the others about Halt’s background. At the end of the book when Pritchard is murdered, Duncan hears about it from Baron Arald and he’s like....oh, shit. He tracks down Halt and Crowley, both of whom are appropriately enraged and grieving, and makes proper funeral arrangements for Pritchard & allows them some time off to process their grief. Afterwards he goes to Halt privately, bc now he’s the only one who knows abt Halt’s childhood & he knows Halt lost more than a dear mentor—and Halt’s in his cabin being very short-tempered and snappy with him but Duncan just sits and waits. And eventually the anger kinda drains out of Halt, and he sits down at the table w Duncan and over ale they share stories about man who’d been like a father to Halt; Duncan didn’t know him all that well, but Pritchard had been around the castle enough when Duncan was a child for him to remember some of the chaos the man had caused. Halt tells a tale or two of his own and explains, a lottttt later when he’s drunker than he should be in front of the almost-king, that Pritchard had saved his life—they’d met while Halt was still at the castle and Pritchard had taught him how to swim some months before Ferris tried to drown him. But it was more than that, Halt tells him, it was so much more than that. Pritchard had been a safe haven, had given him refuge, had given him hope when he needed it most. And now he was gone and Halt was just..... he doesn’t finish the sentence but Duncan nods and says “I know”. Because yeah, he does know. And they sit in silence for a while longer, not as an (almost) King and Ranger but as two men who know what it’s like to be alone.
And now they don’t have to be!!! AND THIS ONLY COVERED THE FIRST TEY BOOK I have,,,, so many more things to say about these two but I THINK this has gotten long enough so 💀 I’ll leave this here. Ty for listening to my rant abt medieval middle-aged gays :D (also disclaimer: at this point, I think Duncan would be more or less the only one with some developing romantic feelings. But then again this only covers the first book, so Halt’s own revelation would come later)"
ANON YOU'RE RIGHT ABOUT EVERYTHING.
Their dynamic is indeed just that. Duncan recognising him out of the blue and Halt having to physically shut him up? Legendary. Duncan feeling his crush return? Amazing.
I never thought about Duncan and Halt relating about royal life but it makes so much sense??? especially just talking about the lessons and the trouble having friends etc etc. The resulting whole no-longer-alone thing has me *this* close to tears. Duncan then tracking down Halt -- he 11/10 w o u l d. Halt being angry and then just almost sobbing while Duncan has no idea wtf he should do but the fact that he's there and he's listening means everything to Halt.
Anon, I have absolute 0 regrets unleashing this. Awfully bold of you to assume that it'll get annoying. You fully got me now, I'm shipping them hard. I'm invested. Please do elaborate whenever you wish. I will gladly listen to more rants about medieval middle-aged gays. Go ahead.
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