#but I'm fine guys! I'm hanging in there better than I thought
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chrissturnsfav · 3 days ago
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Can you do a fic about you going on a date with a guy you met, and you go on this date and have to call Chris to save you in the middle of it because the guy starts to make you uncomfortable. Chris ends up confessing his love for you and you do the same ?
𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐀𝐖𝐀𝐘
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chris comes to your rescue after a discomforting date, confessing his love to you.
ᰔᩚ fluff, kissing
ᰔᩚ w.c. 777
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you thought it might be nice to try something new. dating apps were an experiment, and swiping through profiles felt more like a game than anything serious. when ryan asked you out, you figured, why not? his messages were clever enough, and he seemed normal—or at least, normal enough.
but now, sitting across from him at this dimly lit bar, you're regretting every decision that brought you here.
his jokes are off. not funny, just off. the kind that make your skin crawl, like he’s testing boundaries just to see how far he can push them. you fake polite laughs at first, but it only seems to encourage him.
then there’s the way he keeps leaning in, closing the space between you like he’s daring you to pull back. your drink sits untouched while you nod along to whatever he’s saying about himself—something about his ex, or maybe his job.
why the fuck was he telling you about your ex? absolutely not.
your phone feels heavy in your pocket, a lifeline you’re too nervous to grab. when he brushes your arm, the touch lingers just a second too long, and that’s it for you.
"excuse me," you mumble, slipping out of your chair. "just gonna use the bathroom."
in the cramped stall, you fumble for your phone, your hands shaking slightly as you type out a message to chris.
you hey can u call me?? this date is fucking horrible i need out read, 8:34 pm
the three dots appear almost immediately.
chris wya? read, 8:34 pm
you send the address. no hesitation.
chris i'm on my way j relax for now kid read, 8:35 pm
you exhale, leaning against the stall door. it’s going to be fine. chris always has your back.
back at the table, ryan’s irritation is thinly veiled behind a smile. "you okay? thought you ditched me for a second there."
"just a quick call," you say, forcing a smile. your phone buzzes on cue.
"sorry, gotta take this." you step away again, answering without hesitation.
"i’m outside," chris says, voice calm and steady.
the relief is instant. "okay, thanks, be right there."
you grab your bag, muttering an apology to ryan. "friend emergency. i have to go, i'm sorry."
he starts to protest, but you’re already heading for the door, your heart pounding as you step outside and spot chris sitting casually in the driver's seat.
"hey," he says once you climb into the passenger seat, his eyes scanning you like he’s making sure you’re really okay.
"hey," you reply, and just like that, the tension eases.
the car smells faintly of his cologne, familiar and grounding. "what happened?" he asks as he pulls onto the street, his tone neutral but his grip on the wheel firm.
"he was...weird," you say, shrugging. "too much. i didn’t feel safe."
chris nods, jaw tightening. "idiot," he scoffs.
you glance at him, surprised. "what?"
"him," he clarifies, glancing at you briefly. "for thinking he could get you."
you laugh, a short, nervous sound. ���c'mon. it’s not like that.”
he doesn’t respond right away, just keeps driving. finally, he pulls into the parking lot of your apartment and turns to face you, one arm draped over the steering wheel.
"nah, it is like that," he says, voice low but steady. "you deserve better. someone you didn't randomly meet on tinder, who probably just wants to fuck. need someone who actually sees you."
you blink, unsure how to respond. "chris..."
he shakes his head, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "i mean, i’ve been your best friend for years, and i’ve tried to play it cool, but i kinda can’t anymore."
the words hang in the air, heavy and electric.
"say something," he says, his confidence faltering just slightly.
you stare at him, heart pounding. "i think...i’ve been waiting for you to say that."
his smirk softens into a real smile, the kind that makes your chest ache in the best way. "yeah?"
"yeah."
he leans in, slow enough that you can stop him if you want to, but you don’t. when his lips meet yours, it’s not rushed or hungry like all the other kisses you've experienced with men you've met on dates. it’s warmth, steady and sure, like this is exactly where you’re supposed to be.
when he pulls back, his eyes are brighter, his smile a little smug. "took you long enough," he scoffs.
you laugh, shaking your head. "shut up and drive me to get ice cream."
he chuckles, throwing the car into reverse. "whatever you want."
and for the first time all night, you feel completely at ease.
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thank you for reading!! <3
tags: @sturnobsessedwh0re , @idrk2292 , @mattsbrat , @ribbonlovergirl , @sturnhyyhblog , @matthewsroses , @mattsdemi , @emely9274 , @frankoceanfanpage , @ifwdominicfike , @marrykisskilled , @strnilolover , @cayleeuhithinknott , @forgottxen , @sophand4n4 , @sturnsrecord , @purpledragon222 , @faiyaz555 , @jocelyncsblog , @freakiolos , @slut4chris888 , @chriss-slutt , @ilovedanielcaesar , @annsx03 , @snoopychris , @chrissweetheart
@chrissturnsfav ™
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uzurakis · 8 months ago
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jjk men w gf who’s overly sensitive and they said something that hurt her feelings? ^___^
FALLING INTO ARGUMENTS?!
featuring: megumi fushiguro. gojo satoru. itadori yuuji. geto suguru.
n. nonnie, allow me to spice your req a bit by make them getting into arguments which hurts your feelings in the process. sorry it took a longer time to write this cause i really don’t want to mess their characterization on this one t—t you also didn’t say i need to end it with comfort so…
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GOJO SATORU.
the atmosphere was heavy with tension, as if every breath you took stirred up a storm of unresolved emotions. the soft glow of the desk lamp cast long shadows across the room, accentuating the lines of frustration etched into gojo satoru’s face. his piercing gaze fixed into yours, a silent challenge hanging between both like a veil of uncertainty.
as you stood before him, the weight of his dismissive words bore down on you like a crushing weight. it was as if every syllable was a dagger aimed straight at your heart, each one leaving a deep, painful wound that threatened.
you cried out, "i can help, satoru," your voice quivering with a mix of hurt and desperation. "please, just let me help you."
however, his reply felt akin to a blow to the face. "i don’t need your help, alright?" he yelled, his voice snapping like a whip. "i've got this covered myself.”
the words hung in the air, heavy and suffocating, filling the space between you guys with a palpable sense of defeat.
you begged, your voice almost audible, "but satoru, we're supposed to be in this together. i thought you trusted me. isn't that what relationships are built out of?”. nevertheless, his expression remained impassive, a mask of indifference that hid the pain lurking beneath the surface. “trust has nothing to do with it," he replied, voice colder than you had ever heard it before. "i do better alone."
with those comments, the abyss between you and gojo deepened, threatening to swallow both whole. then as you turned to leave his room, the weight of his rejection settled like a stone in your gut, leaving only a hollow ache and the bitter taste of regret.
the silence of the room was deafening, broken only by the soft hum of the air conditioning and the steady rhythm of his own heartbeat. every fiber of his being screamed for him to go after you, to swallow his pride and beg for your forgiveness, but something held him back, he didn’t want to pull you into his mess any further.
with a heavy sigh, gojo sank into his chair, his shoulders slumping in defeat as he let out a long, ragged breath. the weight of his actions settled on him like a leaden blanket, suffocating him with its suffocating embrace.
tears threatened to spill from his eyes, but he blinked them back, refusing to let himself break down in the face of his own weakness. he had always prided himself on his strength, on his ability to handle any situation with ease and confidence, but now, in the aftermath of this argument, he felt more vulnerable than ever before.
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MEGUMI FUSHIGURO
"are you okay, megumi?" you asked softly as you reached out to touch his shoulder.
his usually calm demeanor was replaced by a tense energy that crackled in the air, setting your nerves on edge as he flinched away from your touch, his expression hardening as he turned to face you.
he snapped, "i'm fine," in a tone that was unlike anything you had ever heard. "stop asking me that."
the words were like a slap to the face, leaving you feeling with hurt and confusion. all you had wanted was to help him, to ease the burden he carried on his shoulders, but instead, you found myself faced with a wall of anger and resentment.
you tried to protest whilst trembling with suppressed emotions. "you know you can always talk to me, right? you don't have to go through this alone." yet he shook his head, his eyes dark with pain as he pushed you away. "i said i'm fine!” insisted, tone slightly went higher. "just leave me alone."
the tears threatened to spill over, but you just held it down and bit your lips. with a heavy heart, you turned and left his room.
as the door closed behind you, megumi let out a frustrated growl, the sound muffled by the empty room. he cursed himself silently, his hands clenching into fists at his sides as the weight of his harsh words settled heavily on his shoulders.
"damn it," he muttered under his breath, very much thick with regret. "fuck you, fushiguro.”
the memory of your hurt expression haunted him, a reminder of the pain he had caused with his thoughtless words. he had never meant to hurt you, never intended to push you away, but in his fear and uncertainty, he had lashed out without thinking, building walls around himself to keep you out.
now, as he stood alone in the quiet solitude of his room, he realized the magnitude of his mistake. he had pushed away the one person who had always been there for him, the one person who had never given up on him, and now he was left to face the consequences of his actions.
with a heavy sigh, the man sank onto his bed, running a hand through his hair as he tried to make sense of the mess he had created. he knew that he needed to apologize, to make things right, but the thought of facing you again filled him with a sense of dread.
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ITADORI YUUJI
under the soft glow of streetlights, yuuji and you found yourselves standing at the edge of a heated argument that threatened to consume the bond between you. the cool night air was heavy with tension, each word you and he exchanged hanging in the air like a cloud of unresolved emotions.
"i just wish you would trust me, yuuji." you said, sounding frustrated as you looked for any indication that he might understand.
however, he shook his head, his expression stubborn and closed off. "i do trust you, but this is different. i need to handle this on my own, babe.”
his remarks pierce deeply. it seemed that he was shutting you down even though all you wanted to do was to help him. you looked at yuuji and said, "i can't just watch you struggle."
"just, give me some time alone, okay?”
the hurt in his voice mirrored your own. as you watched him walk away, the sting of his words lingered like a bitter taste in your mouth. just as you turned to leave, you heard him call out your name, his voice filled with panic and regret. "wait! baby, i'm sorry. i didn't mean it like that."
you turned back to face him, the ache in your chest easing slightly at the sight of his vulnerability. in that moment, you understood that beneath his tough exterior, he was just as scared and uncertain as you were.
"it's okay, yuuji," you calmed him down, reaching out to take his hand in yours. "we'll figure this out together."
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GETO SUGURU
you couldn't stand idly by as suguru pushed himself into further depression from time and time again, and tonight, you had finally reached your breaking point.
"suguru, you need to take better care of yourself," you begged, tinged with frustration and concern. "you can't keep treating yourself like this."
“is there really nothing i can do to help you?”
only he scoffed at your worries, waving off your concerns with a dismissive gesture, expression stubborn and unyielding. "i'm fine, babe.” with a deep sigh, geto suguru pointed out, "and what would you know about my problems, huh?" he reacted with resentment.
those words cut deep, leaving you mourning with hurt and disbelief.
"suguru..” you claimed, “do you really think i would just stand there as you destroy yourself? when you mean so much to me?”
his eyes softened at your words, a flicker of regret passing over his features before he shook his head, expression hardening as he turned away from you. "i don't need your help," he spat.
“i can take care of myself."
the finality of his words hung in the air like a heavy weight, crushing the last vestiges of hope that lingered in.
"fuck, i'm sorry," he murmured right before you decided to walk away. "i didn't mean to worry you."
“i, i just don’t know what to do with myself. shit, i’m so sorry.”
you turned back to face him, tears welling in your eyes as he crossed the room to pull you into a tight embrace. his familiar arms curled around you, providing comfort and warmth despite the tension. you could feel his heartbeat against yours, a rhythm that expressed both guilt and tenderness. at last, words were unnecessary as you allowed the quiet to envelope both, saying more than any apology could.
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@uzurakis — requests are open! <3
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madebycloud · 1 month ago
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Ex at Christmas
violet "vi" x female reader — 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
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summary: christmas is just around the corner, and you've been invited to spend them with your ex-girlfriend's family. only one problem is that your ex-girlfriend has not told anyone that the relationship is over. (requested by anon)
warnings/themes: fluff and angst, found family af, fake dating, ex lovers, christmas, family gatherings, secret santa, everyone is alive and happy au, modern au vi just begging for you to take her back? words: 17.8k.... (i got carried away) notes: it's so long i should've cut it into parts but idk where... so suffer (╥﹏╥) — ✩ part one, part two
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As always, the last drop is a lively spot. warm, cozy, and familiar. Colorful lights hang from the ceiling, a decorated tree stands in the corner, a 'merry christmas' painted on the wall, even a few strings of garland have been hung from the low ceiling.
People are crowding around the bar. Some are playing pool, some are simply chatting amongst themselves, cigarette smoke curling up toward the ceiling.
Vander's voice snaps you from your thoughts. “Look who finally showed her face around here.” He reaches over the top of the bar to ruffle your hair.
“I know, I know,” you laugh, swatting his hand away. “Things are just... busy, y'know?” 
Vander rests his forearms on the countertop, leaning closer to you. “Just making sure you're still alive. 'Been an awful long while since I last saw you.”
“I've been fine, old man.” 
“Glad to hear you're doing alright kid. Haven't seen you around here in, what, three months? You need to come by more often, keep an old guy company,” he chuckles. “I almost thought you'd vanished.”
“You sound like a grandma with kids that never call.”
Vander grins and winks at you, taking a rag and wiping at the bartop. “You're like a kid to me, so I guess it checks out.”
You scoff but say nothing, leaning against the bartop as your eyes start to travel across the room. A few people mill about that you recognize as regular patrons, but other than that, there's pretty much no one of interest.
Vander snorts and lifts the rag to his shoulder. “We're having our christmas gathering again this year, you should swing by. Just like last christmas, eh?”
A lot has changed for you in the past month, and you've been dreading this coming up. “I... don't know. I don't think so.”
Vander raises an eyebrow. “What do you mean you don't know? Not up to seeing the old gang again?”
“Not exactly,” you murmur, the memory of the breakup is still fresh. It's not that you don't want to see your friends, it's just the idea of seeing Vi again.
You sigh, running a hand through your hair. “It's not that, I just... things have changed, especially recently. I don't want to... accidentally make things awkward or something.”
Vander shakes his head and it almost seems like he's laughing at you. “Why would it be awkward?”
“I don't know…” You sigh, your shoulders slumping in resignation. “Nevermind it, I'm going.”
Your words get a smirk out of Vander, and he reaches over to poke your arm. “That's what I like to hear,” he gives you a wink, folding his arms across his chest. “You better show up or I'll drag you here myself. You know I could.”
“Like I'd let you drag me here, old man—there's no way your back can handle that.”
“Ah, you kids these days have no respect for your elders. You're gonna break my old back and then I'll die,” he pretends to sniffle, making you scoff.
Silco then walks over, looping his arms around Vander's shoulders. The two of them exchange a knowing glance before Silco turns his attention to you. “Look who actually decided to show up.”
Vander laughs as he pats Silco's arm. “Cut the kid some slack. They're just here to have a good time.”
Silco chuckles, his eyes still on you. “So are you coming on Christmas?”
You almost sigh as Silco brings up the party again. You rub at the back of your neck, and just as you're about to answer, Vander beats you to it.
“Yeah, she's coming,” he confirms.
Silco hums, he lifts his arm from off vander, resting it in his hip instead. “Good, I was beginning to think you were going to weasel your way out of it.”
Vander smacks his shoulder. “Lay off, would ya? let the kid breathe.”
Silco relents and waves his hand dismissively. “I'm just saying,” he looks back at you. “We all want you there, you know. It wouldn't be the same without you.”
Hearing them say that makes you feel guilty for even considering not going. You know they mean it. You just hope it won't be too much awkward with Vi there.
Vander nods and smiles. “He's right, you know. Everyone's been asking about you. They'll be happy to have you there.”
“I get it. You don't have to butter me up, old man.”
Vander chuckles, then he glances over his shoulder, gesturing to a small, unassuming box on a nearby table. “Hey, could you grab that little box over there for me?” Silco smirks and nods before moving to get the box, bringing it over and handing it to Vander.
“What's in the box?” you ask.
Vander grins at you, holding the box in his hands. “We're doing a secret santa,” he explains, “and since you’re coming that means you're participating too.”
Your eyebrows raise to your hairline. You'd completely forgotten about the secret santa. You groan in annoyance, running your hands over your face. “I'm still annoyed I got that whoopee cushion from Powder last year.”
“That was a good one. She was so damn proud of herself too, and besides…” Vander pauses, turning to look at you. “You never know, you might get something less annoying this year.” He then holds the box out to you, a smile on his lips.
There's always the possibility you won't get something shitty, but knowing most of your friends... Yeah, that's unlikely.
You look at the box, then up at Vander, sighing. You take the box from him. “I hope you're right, old man.”
Vander chuckles before stepping back to talk to Silco.
You turn the box over in your hands, feeling the weight of it. It's not too heavy, and you almost feel compelled to shake it. But if you do that, you'll probably end up drawing Vander's name, and that's basically cheating.
Sighing, you decide to just bite the bullet. You take the lid off the box, sticking your hand inside. Your fingers rummage around before they eventually close around a folded piece of paper.
You pull out the slip of paper, unfolding it slowly. You glance at the handwriting, then almost roll your eyes.
Of course you got Vi.
Out of all the names you could have drawn, you get the one person you didn't want to get. You could have gotten literally anyone else. Mylo, Claggor, Powder, Silco, or anyone other than Vi. but no, you had to get your ex. Just your luck.
You look at the note again, and the first thought that comes to your mind is...
Well, crap.
You're so focused on the slip of paper in your hands that you don't notice Vander and Silco peeking over your shoulder.
“So, who'd you get?”
Vander's question makes you jump, you quickly stuff the paper into your pocket before they can see who it is.
“No one,” you say, waving your hand to dismiss the question. “It's not important.”
Silco raises an eyebrow. “Then why are you pocketing the paper?”
“It's a secret for a reason.”
Vander and Silco glance at each other, and you can tell they're silently communicating. 
Vander turns back to you a moment later, rubbing his jaw. “A secret, huh? Well, that means whoever you got won't know it's you.”
Silco hums. “That's probably a good thing,” he mumbles.
“That's kind of the point of a secret Santa.”
Vander nods, scratches his beard before his lips turn up in a small smile. “True means you can give them something real nice.”
Silco glances at Vander before looking at you. “Whoever you got is probably going to be very happy when they get their gift.”
You almost snort at Silco's words. Yeah, right. a gift from you? She’ll probably chuck it straight in the trash.
You run a hand through your hair, trying to shake the thoughts of Vi out of your head. You don't know why you're worried about how she'll react. Why care if she'll like the gift? Why care if she's happy with whatever you get her?
The answer is so obvious, but you don't want to admit it even to yourself.
Vander and Silco are still looking at you, and you realize that you have to say something. Any longer and they might figure it out.
You push those thoughts away and force out a small scoff. “If they'll actually like it. I'm not the best with gifts.”
“Oh, I'm sure they will,” Silco says, an almost knowing smirk on his face.
Vander nods. “Just give them something from the heart.”
From the heart, my ass. The only thing you want to give her from the heart is a kick in the ass.
“Because someone's gonna be real happy with something from me.”
Vander and Silco exchange another look again, like they're having an entire conversation without actually saying anything.
You turn away from them, looking out the window. They're probably trying to read your mind, figure out who it is you got. The thought makes your eyes twitch. You don't want them to know. You don't know why, but you really don't want them to know.
“Just do us a favor,” Silco suddenly says, cutting into the silence that had fallen between you. “Try not to stress too hard about it. You'll give yourself gray hairs.”
Vander chuckles at Silco's words, “You'll give us an old heart attack.”
“Ha ha, funny.”
Silco grins at your response. “Well, we're only half-joking.”
Vander's eyes soften. He slaps Silco's shoulder to get him to shut up. “What he means is, you overthink too much,” Vander adds.
You almost huff. Yeah, so what if you overthink? It's a normal thing to do. especially in situations like this, where you're stuck with the one person you don't want to be.
Why keep thinking about her? You need to stop obsessing over her. She made her choice, and it wasn't you.
You run your fingers to your face, trying to think of something else to distract yourself. It's not like you don't know what you want to get Vi. You just don't know if you should get it.
“I don't overthink,” you grumble, shifting your weight on your feet. 
“Oh yes, you do.”
And they're both right about that.. You can't even count how many times you've paced around your apartment, replaying every interaction you had with Vi over and over again in your head. Every word, every touch, and every look. All of it, it's like your brain refuses to let you forget.
You've spent countless nights trying to figure out where you went wrong. What you could have done differently if there was something you could have changed. All of that, just because of one person who tossed you aside without a second thought.
“Listen,” Silco suddenly says, snapping you out of your thoughts. You look over at him as he stands up straight, a smirk spreads across his lips. “You're going to drive yourself crazy thinking about something that hasn't even happened yet.”
“He's right,” Vander gives you a look before continuing. “And for the love of God, stop overthinking.”
If only it were that simple. If only you could just switch off your brain and stop thinking about everything.
But you know damn well you can't do that. Your thoughts are as uncontrollable as the weather, and right now, they're a mess.
You take a deep breath, trying to calm your thoughts.
“I should probably go,” you mutter, and the two men nod. Vander pats you on the back as you start for the door.
“Same place, eh?’ he calls after you.
“Don't think too hard, kid,” Silco adds.
You give them both a small nod as you exit the bar, shutting the door behind you.
Christmas is going to be one hell of a mess this year, you can feel it.
Now all you have to do is figure out how the hell you're going to deal with it.
You're standing outside of Vander and Silco’s house, the weight of the present in your hands suddenly feeling a thousand times heavier.
You've replayed this moment in your head countless times, but now that it's happening for real, you're not sure if you're ready.
Christmas music drifts out of the house, it's a familiar tune that you've heard a million times.
You push down the anxiety gnawing at your stomach. You shouldn't be feeling so nervous, it's just a gift. Just a present for a secret santa.
But this isn't just anyone, this is Vi. The one person who you didn't want to get. The one person who broke things off without a second thought.
Stop thinking about this. It's just one night. one stupid night, and then it will be over. You can get through this, you can handle being around Vi for one Christmas. No more thinking about her. No more wondering where you went wrong or if you could have done something to change things. Just get through the night and forget about her.
You take another deep breath, straighten up, and square your shoulders. Then, in one moment, you push open the doors to their house and walk inside.
Your eyes search the room, looking for that familiar pink hair. But you don't see her. Your shoulders relax a little. Maybe she's not here yet. That'll give you a few minutes to brace yourself. No one is around right now, probably in their rooms or preparing for the dinner. 
You were so distracted by looking around that you didn't realize someone was standing right behind you until they grabbed you and spun you around. Your eyes meet their powder blue ones, and your mouth suddenly goes dry.
“What the hell are you doing here?”
“Woah, hey-” you stumble over your words.
“Don't 'woah hey' me,” she snaps, her grip tightening on your arm.
Vander's deep voice cut in before you could even speak. “You've actually came.”
You feel her look away from you, her hand finally falling from your arm. As soon as it does, you rub the skin where she grabbed you.
Vander looks between the two of you and says, “Hand me the gift, kid. I'll put it there.” He gestures towards a christmas tree where the gifts are already sitting underneath.
You quickly hold the present out for him to take.
He takes it before giving both of you another look. “Go easy with your girlfriend, eh?”
You freeze, your heart stopping as his words register. Your eyes widen as you slowly turn your head to look at Vi.
Girlfriend?
“I will.” Before you can even process what's happening, you're being pulled outside.
You yank your arm back from Vi, quickly putting some distance between the two of you. “What's your problem?”
She spins around and scoffs, looking you up and down. “I should be asking you that. What the hell are you doing here?”
“Vander invited me. He asked me to come.”
“Then you should've said no.”
“Wow? just wow.” You take a deep breath, trying to stay calm. “I know that things didn't go well between us, but you don't get to push me out of this family. They're my family too, and Vander invited me here to celebrate. I have as much right to be here as you do.”
You refuse to break eye contact with her. “You can ignore me all you want, but you don't get to decide how I'm allowed to spend my Christmas. If you want to keep acting like this, fine. Ignore me, pretend I don't exist, just like you've been doing for the past months.”
Vi lets out a laugh, rubbing a hand on her forehead. “They do not know.”
You blink at her. “What do you mean?”
She looks over at the entrance and says, “They all think we're still together.”
Your eyes widen. “What?” you almost shout. “Why the hell would they think that?”
“Because I didn't tell them,” she scoffs. “Every time I talk to them, they ask me how you are. Silco and Vander keep making comments about how we make a cute couple. They still think we're together.”
“Why the hell didn't you tell them?” you glare at her. “Were you ever going to?”
“I don't know,” she retorts, throwing her arms up. “They're all so happy about us being together.”
“That's such bullshit,” you snap at her. “That's such a crappy excuse! You should be the one to tell them we broke up.”
She looks away, planting her arm on her hips. “Don't you think I know that?” she shoots back. “It's not that simple. I can't just rip off the bandage like that.”
“Is that it? You’re scared that they'll know?”
“Don’t act like you don’t know how Silco and Vander can get.”
“I know how they get,” you snap back at her. “You’re just too much of a pussycat to face them and tell them the truth.”
Her expression hardens, and her jaw clenches. “Look who's talking. You can't even say no to a little family gathering, but here you are.”
“Don't even start. I didn't come here because I wanted to see you. I came for the family, not for you.”
“As if I wanted to see you either. The last thing I wanted was to have to deal with you all night.”
You look her right in the eye. “Fine, you know what? I'll go tell them right now that we broke up. They deserve to know.”
She grabs your wrist before you can take a step towards the door. “Wait”
You look down at her hand, then back up at her. “What?”
“Don't,” she says through gritted teeth. “Just... don't tell them yet.”
You scoff, ripping your arm away from her grip. “Why the hell not? So they can keep thinking we're still together?”
“Just don't tell them tonight. Can you just give me until after Christmas?”
“Why are you still dragging this out? What difference does it make if we wait till then or do it now?”
“Because it's fucking christmas!” she snaps before dropping her gaze. “Look, it's the holidays. I just... I don't want to ruin Christmas. They've all been looking forward to all of us celebrating together. I don't want to ruin it by spoiling the fun.”
“Wait—let me get this straight. You want to fake it this christmas? Pretend we're still a happy couple?”
She's quiet again. “Yeah,” she whispers, looking down. “Yeah, that's what I'm asking.”
“You’re unbelievable, Vi.” You take a deep breath, trying to keep yourself together. “Do you know how ridiculous that sounds? You're asking me to pretend like we're still together, to pretend that nothing has changed.”
“It's just one day,” she mumbles. “One day, that's all I'm asking for. We can tell them anytime after that, just not tonight, please.”
She even says please. Something about the way she says it makes your heart ache.
She looks desperate, like this really means something to her. Who are you kidding? Of course, this means something to her. 
They're her family, they're important to her. And on Christmas, all they want is for everything to be perfect. perfect food, perfect presents, and perfect couples.
You hate the way she's looking at you with those soft, pleading eyes. She always looks at you like that when she wants something, and you always give in. She does it subconsciously, knowing how to get exactly what she wants. And damn it, it works.
“Fine,” you mutter through clenched teeth. “You've got your damned wish.”
And there it is. There's the look you've been waiting for. That look of relief that comes to her eyes.
You hate that look. You hate how your heart flutters when she looks like that. You hate it so much.
“Yeah?”
“Yes, you've got me for tonight. I'll pretend like we're still together. Happy now?”
There's a flicker of a smile on her face, something quick that's gone before you can even register. “Yeah, thank you.”
She looks away again. Silence falls between the two of you as you shift awkwardly.
This is gonna be a long night.
You let out a sigh, watching as she keeps her focus on the floor. This is so damn awkward.
And it's your own fault for agreeing to this nonsense. There's no way this night doesn't end up being a goddamn catastrophe.
You would give anything to just disappear right now.
Powder's voice snaps you out of your thoughts. Peeking her head out of the doorway, looking at the two of you. “Hey, you two. It’s cold out there, get your asses in here.”
You look at Vi, waiting for a sign of acknowledgment.
She slowly glances up, her gaze meeting yours. “Come on,” she murmurs, holding out her hand.
Taking a deep breath, you take her hand in yours.
You've held her hand so many times before—more times than you can count. Holding her hand used to be nothing, but now it feels so odd. Almost awkward.
But she doesn't seem to notice how out of place it feels. She slowly leads you towards the door, squeezing your hand as she pulls you along.
“How are my favorite love birds doing?” Mylo's voice greets you as you both enter.
He slings a casual arm over your shoulders, leaning on your shoulder to get a better look at you. “It's about time you two showed up. I thought for sure you were just gonna keep making out in a corner somewhere.”
It takes everything you have not to elbow him in the stomach. Instead, you keep a neutral expression and chuckle awkwardly, “Yeah, you know us. Can't keep our hands off of each other.”
“You two are sickeningly in love, it's really cute, actually.”
Your eye twitches, and you bite the inside of your cheek.
“Yeah, we're very in love,” Vi says, and you can tell she's trying not to roll her eyes.
Mylo claps you on the shoulder before releasing you. “Well then, I'm going to go find myself some eggnog,” he leaves towards the kitchen, whistling to himself as he goes.
You turn to look at Vi, and you almost feel a twinge of hatred towards the way she so casually holds your hand, like nothing is wrong.
“Are you okay?”
Her voice brings you back to reality, and suddenly you're all too aware of how hard you're clenching your jaw and the fact that you're basically just glowering at the floor with a storm cloud over your head.
You raise your eyes to meet with hers, and you have to force yourself to release some of the tension. “Yeah, fine,” you mutter. “just cold”
It's a lie, obviously. It's not cold at all. Vander always keeps the place nice and warm.
Not even she's dumb enough to fall for that. She glances around, clearly noticing how you're not really hiding your feelings well.
She runs her thumb over the back of your hand. It's an innocent gesture, one that you've seen dozens of times before. It's not meant to be anything special, it never was. And yet, it still makes your heart skip a beat. 
You have absolutely no idea how you're going to get through this night with both your sanity and your heart still intact.
“Okay,” she finally says, “can you stop clenching your jaw so hard? you look like you're trying to grind your teeth down to the bone. I know this isn't the ideal situation, but please don't go around looking like you want to kill everyone in this room.”
Her fingers squeeze your hand, and you realize just how tightly you're holding her hand in yours. Your knuckles are white, and your fingers are probably digging into her skin.
Gritting your teeth, you loosen your grip. 
“There, that's better.” She lets out a quiet breath. “Please try and just relax for a bit. This is going to be hellish already, so I at least need you to not look like you hate me every second we're in here.”
You let out a frustrated huff, looking away from her. “Please don't act like you care.”
“I'm not acting like I care,” she says, a tone just loud enough for only you to hear. “I do care, and that's the problem.”
Of course she has to say something like that right now. Of course she has to hit where it hurts the most.
Care? care about what? about you? about what she put you through, how she broke your heart?
You open your mouth, but your response dies in your throat. You have no idea how to respond to that.
A loud shout interrupts your thoughts, and you both turn around. “Oi! Time for dinner!” Powder yells from the doorway into the kitchen.
Vi mutters under her breath, “finally.”
Powder grins as she waves you both over. “Hurry up or Vander will eat everything and complain about his bad back afterwards.”
“We're coming,” Vi calls back.
The two of you head towards the kitchen. There's a long table in the middle of the room, covered in a red and green tablecloth. Everyone is already crowded around the table, taking their seats as you two enter the room. Vander is at the head of one of the tables, Silco seated beside him. Mylo and Claggor are chatting amongst themselves as Powder takes her seat beside Claggor.
Vi looks at the seating arrangement and sighs, realizing what's about to happen. She pulls you over to the table and sits down, pulling you down into the seat right next to her.
After a few moments, everyone quiets down and turns their attention to Silco.
Silco places his hands together. “It's good to see everyone together like this today. I am thankful that we are all here, safe and healthy.” He glances around the room in a quick survey, seeming to count everyone's attendance. “And what better time to be together than the holidays?”
Powder lets out a huff. “Can we just eat? I'm starving.” 
Silco raises his hand for Powder to stay quiet. “Patience, Pow. First, let's do something a bit… different.”
Mylo and Claggor glance at each other in confusion. “Different?” Mylo repeats.
“Indeed,” Silco replies. “Instead of just diving into our meal, I thought it would be nice if we all took a moment to share a few words about what we are thankful for this year.”
“We're really gonna do this?”
Claggor nudges him. “Be polite, Mylo.”
“He's right, though,” Powder chimes in.
Silco raises an eyebrow at them both. “Is it really such a hassle to express gratitude at the end of the year?”
Mylo and Powder grumble something under their breaths.
Claggor is the first one to respond. “I think it's a fine idea.”
“Thank you, Claggor,” Silco replies, “I'm glad we have at least one cooperative person here.”
After a moment of silence, Vander speaks. “Alright, then I'll go first... I am grateful for my family,” he says as he looks around the room, taking in the faces before him. “I am thankful for my health, for my business, and most of all, that everyone is still here with me and safe.”
“That's so soft,” Powder mutters, but everyone ignores her.
Vander turns his head and looks directly at Silco, as if he's saying something that's meant to be for Silco's ears only, though everyone can clearly hear. “I'm also thankful for you, Sil,” he adds, the corner of his mouth twitching in a knowing smile.
You're not sure if you're the only one who noticed, but that comment definitely seemed personal and almost a little out of place.
He collects himself quickly and nods at Vander, seemingly not quite sure of what to say. “Thank you, Vander.” 
Silco clears his throat and composes himself, turning his gaze to Powder. “How about you, Pow? Any words of gratitude?”
Powder groans, slouching back in her seat like a child who's been forced to eat her vegetables. “I swear, if you make me say something corny-”
Mylo leans over the table to look at her sister. “Say something nice for once, or you're not getting dessert.”
“Ugh, fine. I am thankful for…” she looks around the room. “I'm thankful everyone's here and we're all... whatever, happy and healthy or something like that,” she mumbles.
“I'll take whatever I can get,” Silco mutters before turning his attention to Claggor. “What about you, Claggor?”
Claggor seems to be taking a moment to think, like he's actually putting effort into what he will say. “I'm grateful for…” his eyes are almost unfocused as he thinks. After a moment, he glances up to look at Vander. “I'm grateful for the family I have here.”
Vander gives him a warm look in response.
Everyone's gaze turns to Mylo, expecting him to go next.
He fidgets anxiously, shifting in his seat as he glances around the room. “What am I supposed to say?...er, fine... My whole life's a mess, but...at least all you idiots are here to make my life more miserable.”
“We love you too, Mylo” Powder teases. “Real touching. I think I might cry.”
Mylo throws a glare in her direction. “Shut up.”
Silco glances at Vi, his gaze lingering as he waits for Vi to speak.
“I'm thankful for…” her voice is a bit quieter than usual, more hesitant. She glances at you before continuing. “I'm... thankful for the people I have in my life.”
Everyone's gaze settles on you next, waiting for you to say something. “Well, I... I guess I'm thankful to be able to still participate in this family gathering, even if I haven't seen everyone in a while.” You take a look at Vi before moving on. “Hopefully I can still be here and spend Christmas with all of you next year too.”
She holds your gaze for a moment, almost as if she's processing what you just said… and then, unexpectedly, a smile tugs at the corner of her lips.
It's a subtle change, barely noticeable, but you see it. and just seeing her smile, even a small one like that, has butterflies filling your stomach. It's been so long since you've seen her smile like that. A part of you misses it, a part of you yearns to see it more often.
She quickly looks away, and you notice that her cheeks have turned a light shade of pink.
“There, we all said our little cheesy bullshit,” Powder says, clearly getting impatient.
Silco turns to Powder, his expression disapproving. “Language, Pow,” he reminds. 
Vander sighs. “Yes, Powder, mind your language” he adds, earning a mock-offended look from Powder.
“Like you don't swear all the time.”
“I do not swear all the time, Pow,” he protests, although you know it's a lie. Even the most proper and upstanding people swear, and Vander is definitely not that.
“Yeah, yeah, sure.”
Vander huffs but chooses not to add anything. Silco lets out a dry cough to redirect everyone's attention. “Right, now that that's over, let's go ahead and eat, shall we?” Silco says, as if the whole moment of gratitude never happened..
“Finally,” Mylo grumbles, “I was starting to wonder if you forgot about why we all gathered here.”
Silco gives him a look. “Patience is a virtue, Mylo.”
“We've all been patient for the last hour, so spare me.”
Claggor lets out a little sigh, but thankfully Mylo and Powder seem to settle into silence for the time being.
Silco nods in approval. “Then, shall we begin?”
Vander gets up from his seat, moving to go grab the food.
Powder and Mylo look at Vander expectantly, and they both look like they're about to get out of their seats. Silco gives them a warning look, silencing them before they can get a word out. “Wait until everything is ready.”
They both grumble, but they obediently sit back down. They're impatient, sure, but they at least know better than to piss off Silco.
Vander returns a moment later, setting a platter filled with food on the table. It looks delicious, and the smell is mouthwatering. Your stomach growls a little, reminding you of how hungry you are.
Powder and Mylo are practically drooling, and you honestly wouldn't be surprised if they lunged for the food the moment Silco gave the word.
Thankfully, he doesn't give them any chance. He simply says, “Please, help yourselves,” and Silco has to gesture for them to wait.
They almost get up and move to the table, and they're clearly resisting the temptation to shove each other to try and get to the food faster.
Mylo lets out a curse, and Jinx giggles in response. Vi stands up and grabs both of them, grabbing onto their shoulders and holding them back from each other.
“Enough, you two,” she scolds, “there's plenty of food for everyone. Chill out.”
They look at her with expressions that clearly are saying, 'no, we're hungry'. Powder lets out a huff, and Mylo looks like he's one more remark away from shoving her sister.
Vi's expression sharpens, her eyes boring into Mylo and Powder. “No, quit the bullshit, you can wait a few minutes, and if you two can't act like adults about it, neither of you are getting any.”
Mylo immediately shuts up at that, his expression turning slightly more guilty. Powder just looks like she's about to protest, a pout forming on her face. Vi glares at Powder to shush her as well.
“Just quit it,” she says. “You can wait, the food will taste better if you don't shove it all down your throats like dogs.”
“Fine, we'll wait,” she grumbles.
Mylo just nods with a pout, staying quiet.
Vi seems to notice their looks, and she rolls her eyes, staying put just in case. She seems wary as she watches Powder and Mylo, her eyes switching from them to the food on the table.
And sure enough, the moment Silco gestures for everyone to get their food, Powder and Mylo are gone, rushing to claim their plates.
Claggor lets out a sigh as Powder and Mylo shove each other for their own plates. No one says anything though, they're all just used to it. This is just how Powder and Mylo are, and they've come to accept it. Vi doesn't even seem as bothered as everyone else does. 
Mylo seems like he's really close to just pushing Powder to the side and snatching up the slice he wants, and Powder doesn't look any better. Honestly, if Vi didn't step in, there was a chance they'd start throwing punches.
And judging from how the others' looks, especially Silco, they look like they're expecting this. 
It's like this is all completely normal, they know to expect this kind of behavior when food, and more importantly, free food, is involved.
Powder and Mylo finally settle down after their little fight, and they finally begin digging into the food.
Mylo is practically shoving it into his face, eating it like he's been starved for weeks. Powder isn't any better, although at least she's not making a complete mess.
Claggor is significantly slower when it comes to eating, choosing to take his time as he slowly eats as opposed to just shoving the food into his mouth.
Vander eats at a decent pace, and he doesn't seem as starving like Mylo is.
The last one to begin eating is Silco, and surprisingly enough, there's a smile on his face. He takes one look at how Mylo and Powder are chowing down on their food, then he turns his gaze and looks at you, as if silently asking if you're going to eat.
You take the hint, and you decide to dig into your own food. The food is delicious, and you can't blame Mylo and Powder for basically trying to swallow their food whole.
Vi also begins eating now that everyone's settled down.
Vander lets out a laugh, his eyes crinkling up at the corners. “Slow down a little, you two, the food isn't going anywhere.”
Mylo and Powder both raise their heads at that, and they both look like they're considering it for a moment... but they immediately go back to shoving food down their throats.
Claggor shakes his head as he watches them eat. “You'd think they'd never seen a Christmas dinner before.”
“You know them, they would scarf down all the food in town if they could.”
Powder glances up at that, a small pout forming on her lips. “Hey, it's not our fault we're just starving.”
Mylo nods in agreement, his mouth too full to say anything.
“You both just had eaten before this,” Claggor counters.
Mylo swallows whatever food is in his mouth long enough to argue with Claggor. “And that was hours ago.”
“Yeah,” Powder agrees, “it was practically an eternity since we ate.”
“Two hours is not an eternity,” Claggor retorts. 
“It might as well be,” Powder counters.
Despite the bickering and arguing the dinner feels oddly... domestic, almost.
Claggor looks like the responsible and mature oldest sibling who's done with his siblings nonsense, Vander almost acts like a tired parent, Silco acts more like a stern aunt, and Powder and Mylo act like rowdy kids who are constantly at each other's throats.
Vi sits next to you. She's making sarcastic comments with Silco, laughing at Powder’s jokes, and making small talk with Claggor. She even gives Mylo an unimpressed glare when he tries to snatch all the bread for himself.
It's almost like you're both back to normal. The way she's acting makes your heart ache. She's giving you all the attention a partner would give.
She gives you fond smiles whenever you make a comment, she casually slides an arm around your shoulders, she even scoots her chair a little closer to yours.
Her eyes are soft, her voice is soft, whenever you look at her, she looks back with this almost affectionate look.
It's so normal, that it almost takes you back to your relationship and how you two were before the breakup.
She's even doing little things, like leaning closer to you, letting a hand rest on your thigh, even discreetly grabbing your hand and intertwining your fingers with hers under the table.
You want to hold her tight and never let her go, but your brain keeps reminding you. You two aren't together anymore.
But when you look at her, when she looks at you with that look in her eyes, everything goes quiet. 
Maybe it could work this time.
Maybe you two could just bury the hatchet and move on.
Maybe things could work between you two if you try it out again.
Then you remember the fights, the nights you spent on your bed, crying while Vi was out with friends. You remember how she treated you after the breakup—how she tossed you aside like discarded trash.
You try to ignore it, push it to the back of your head. But it's so hard when Vi sits next to you, close enough for you to catch the scent of her perfume. She smells like cigarettes and leather, something that's so her.
You're so focused on trying to stop yourself from touching her or even getting closer that you're almost surprised when she suddenly leans her head against your shoulder.
She doesn't say anything, just leans against you.
She's so close. She's pressed against your side, her shoulder against your shoulder, her head against yours, her hand on your thigh.
You notice her scent again, now stronger.
Her hair brushes against your neck, the way you can feel the warmth of her body, and the way her thumb draws little circles into your thigh.
She's so close, and yet you want her even closer.
You want to run your hands through her hair, you want to nuzzle your face into her shoulder, you want to feel her hands roaming your body.
You just want her.
Your thoughts are suddenly interrupted by Powder, her question pulling you out of your head. “It's been a while since we've seen you two together,” she says, her mouth still full of food.
Claggor shoots Powder a look. “Powder-”
“Shush, I'm just wondering,” she argues, shrugging casually, “has she been avoiding you?”
“No,” you say before anyone can say anything. “We just... haven't had time to schedule any dates, that's all.”
“For months? Haven't had time to schedule a single date for months?”
“Life gets busy, y’know,” you reply, trying to sound nonchalant.
Mylo scoffs at that. “You two are dating, the least you could do is at least manage one date a month.”
Claggor smacks him over the head. Mylo grumbles and rubs the back of his head, shooting his brother a glare. “What? it's true,” he mutters. “We just kind of... we all miss you.”
Vander gives Mylo a disapproving glare. “What Mylo means is, your presence has been sorely missed around here.”
“We all just... we just want you around more,” Powder puts in her two cents, speaking around a mouthful of food again.
You cast a sidelong glance at Vi. You and her are putting up a pretty good facade so far, but Mylo's question seemed to have put her on the spot a little. She catches your glance, and you give her a look that says, just play along. Vi sighs, her hand squeezing your thigh.
“Look, I-” she glances around the table, meeting everyone's eyes before sighing and putting on the most believable expression. “I know we haven't been as... present as we should have been for the past few months. Work just got really hectic.”
“That's true,” you back her up with a nod. “I had to travel away for a business trip a few weeks ago, so it's been pretty hard to find time to spend together.”
Vander, Silco, and Powder all nod in understanding. They're aware of the fact that you have a job in a big city, so it's not an unbelievable explanation.
Mylo, however, snorts and crosses his arms. “You don't have to feed us some lame excuse for not hanging out with us.”
Claggor gives Mylo another smack. “Would you shut up already?”
“Ow!” Mylo grumbles as he rubs his head again, shooting Claggor a dirty look.
Vander sighs. “Regardless, it's good to have you here for Christmas this time.”
Everyone nods and agrees. Powder grins at you, Silco shoots you a small almost-smile, and Claggor and Vander both look genuinely pleased to have you here.
All eyes then land on Mylo, and he shrugs again, mumbling, “I guess it is good to have you here.”
“See, it's a christmas miracle, Mylo isn't being a little prick for once,” Powder teases.
Mylo scowls at her. “Hey, I'm never a little prick-”
“Bullshit.”
Mylo just grumbles again, his eyes narrowing at Powder. “I just think that-”
“Nobody cares what you think,” Powder interrupts again.
That just causes Claggor, Vander, and Silco to laugh. Vi snorts next to you, squeezing your thigh.
The conversation soon changes to talking about old childhood holiday memories.
Mylo tells a story about him stealing Silco's secret chocolate stash when he was twelve. Silco scowls at the memory, but there's a hint of a smile at the corner of his mouth.
Powder tells a story about the time she accidentally burned the back of Vander's hair with a roman candle. Vander laughs and shakes his head at the memory.
At some point, Claggor chimes in to tell a story about a time he and Mylo accidentally broke a window during a snowball fight. Even Mylo himself laughs at that one.
There's lighthearted banter, friendly jabs, and just a lot of laughter in between. This, this is what it should have been like from the beginning. It reminds you of the way it used to be when you were all younger, but still has a different air to it. In a way, it's almost better than those old days. Everyone's grown, but there's still that same energy that always connected you all as a family... it just feels fuller.
You don't know if it's just the christmas lights playing tricks on your mind, but you swear you can almost see the faintest tearful sheen in Vander's eyes. He's almost always had a bit of parental pride and love toward all of you, but seeing you all sitting here together, happy... damn, it must bring back a lot of memories for him.
Silco even looks slightly less grumpy than usual, his mouth twisting into a barely visible smile as the rest of the table continues talking. Yeah, this is how christmas should be…
It almost makes you forget that all of this is fake, almost makes you forget why you and Vi aren't together anymore. It's almost like just for tonight, you can pretend like things are back to how they used to be.
But you know this will not last. When everything is said and done, when christmas night is over and you're all saying your goodbyes, you have no doubt in your mind that you and Vi will go your separate ways again.
You glance at her, taking in the sight of her laughing with the rest. Her eyes are bright, her smile is big, and her entire face lights up with joy. 
You bite the inside of your cheek, forcing your heart to quiet. 
Vi must notice you looking, because she glances over at you. She's looking at you with that look again. You recognize it so easily.
That look... that damn look she's giving you again. The look that makes your heart stutter against your ribs, the look that makes your stomach twist into knots. It's a look that almost makes you want to lean forward and kiss her.
You almost give into your urges. You almost reach out and push a stray strand of hair out of her face, you almost do something to kiss her, almost.
But you don't, you can't. That would spoil the whole 'still dating' facade, and besides.... you have boundaries.
You give her a little nod, offering a small smile, and you almost swear that you see disappointment flash across her eyes.
She looks like she wants to say something, her hand tightening over your knee again, but she seems to change her mind and just smiles back.
Maybe it's just a figment of your own imagination, you think to yourself. Maybe it was a trick of the light or something.
Claggor reaches over to grab something from the middle of the table, and Silco clears his throat. “How about you two?” he says it casually, like he's just making small talk, but there's a hint of concern in his voice. “Any... any problems between the two of you lately?”
You and Vi both sit up straighter. “Problems...?” Vi repeats.
Silco just shrugs, playing it casual. “I don't know, I'm just wondering... a lot of couples who have been together for as long as the two of you have.” He trails off, but everyone at the table knows the implications.
Mylo grumbles under his breath. “I swear, if you start talking about how high the divorce rate is—” Claggor elbows Mylo, and he shuts up.
Silco just chuckles. “Oh, I'm sure you two can last.”
Powder rolls her eyes. “These two have been together since forever. You guys were like... practically attached at the hip, from day one.”
“Yeah, we were like that, weren't we?” Vi looks back at you.
“Yeah,” you say with a casualness you don't feel. “Yeah, we were.”
Silco hums. “I remember when you two first started dating.”
“Oh, do you remember that?” Vander says, looking at Silco. “I remember the two of them coming to me the day they decided they were going to be official.”
Claggor nods. “Yeah, and they were so... so mushy. All 'you're mine' and 'we're never going to break up,” he puts on a mock high-pitched voice, imitating you and Vi
“That was the worst,” Powder groans, shoving food into her mouth.
Mylo grins and elbows Claggor. “How many times did you have to stop them from making out all over the bar again?”
“Way too many times.”
“By the way,” Mylo says. “You two aren't doing anything for new years, are you?”
You and Vi exchange glances. “..we haven't made plans yet,” you say slowly, trying to think of excuses.
“Oh, you should come join us then,” Mylo says, leaning back and stretching his arms. “All of us are getting hammered down here for new years, you two should come.”
“Yeah, it'll be fun!” Powder pipes up, eyes lighting up. “You guys will come, won't you? promise you'll come.”
You open your mouth, trying to wrack your brain for excuses, but before you can say anything-
“Of course we'll come.”
You turn to look at Vi, and she just gives you a shrug.
Mylo grins. “Good, good! That'll be fun,” he sits up and points a finger at you both. “I swear, the two of you used to be so much fun at parties, it's like you both went boring when you got older.”
“Hey, just cause we're getting old doesn't mean we suddenly became party poopers,” Vi says defensively. “We're still fun.”
Mylo cackles. “Are you now? I never see you two do anything anymore,” he leans back in his seat. “Ever since you got that fancy shmancy job, you've been too busy to have any fun.”
“We know how to have fun, we have—” you pause, trying to think of the word, “responsibilities now. responsibilities that a certain someone is too dumb to understand.”
“I understand responsibilities, but I understand the concept that if you don't get wasted while you're young, then you'll wake up at forty, old and boring,” he says, looking at Silco and Vander. “And I want to make the most out of my young and reckless years. Meanwhile, you've already turned into an old, boring fart.”
You scowl at that, but Silco interrupts before you can respond. “Don't knock on old farts just yet. Some of us are old and still know how to have fun.”
“Yeah,” Vander chimes in, nodding his head. “Just because we're old doesn't mean we don't know how to have a good time.”
Mylo rolls his eyes and waves a hand. “Yeah, yeah, you old farts can still have fun. You just don't know how to have real fun anymore.” Mylo then pouts. “I just... I miss how it used to be, you know?” he sighs, resting his chin in his hand. “Before all that adult crap, when things were easier.”
“Easier,” Powder mutters, poking at the remains of her food. “Yeah, when we were broke and always hungry, real easy.”
Mylo reaches over and flicks her arm. “Easy doesn't always mean money, you dumbass.”
Powder scowls and smacks his arm back. “Don't call me a dumbass, you dumbass.”
“Then don't be a dumbass,” Mylo snaps back, smacking her again.
Powder smacks him again, harder. “Don't you dare call me a dumbass again.”
Before they can start another childish argument, Silco's voice cuts in. “Enough you two," he says, and they immediately grumble and fall quiet.
“Honestly, I sometimes wonder how the two of you aren't still in high school,” Vander mutters under his breath.
“That's an insult to high schoolers, they're more mature than those two,” Claggor jokes, earning him a smack to the head from both Powder and Mylo.
He yells and puts his hands up in surrender, “ow ow ow, ok ok! don't hurt me!”
Jinx and Mylo laugh, while Silco shakes his head. “See what I mean? Children.”
“And they both insist they're mature enough to be out in the real world, independent and capable,” Vander says, while Silco chuckles.
“They're still just as chaotic now as they were in high school,” Silco says dryly. “Nothing has changed.”
Powder and Mylo both glare at him. “Really? like you two were that much better in high school,” she grumbles.
Silco raises an eyebrow at that. “We certainly weren't as immature as some people,” he says pointedly.
“You guys were probably just as bad as us, you just don't remember."
There's a pause, and Silco and Vander exchange glances before Silco snorts. He tries to bite back a laugh, but it comes out anyway, causing Vander to burst out laughing as well.
“I can't-” Vander wheezes between laughs. “I can't believe... you actually…”
Silco doubles over, laughing even harder. After a moment, he manages to gasp out a few words. “Oh, if you only... if you only knew…”
Powder and Mylo exchange confused glances, while Claggor tilts his head. “What? what happened? what's so funny?”
The laughter finally dies down as Silco composes himself enough to speak. “Nothing, it's nothing,” he says, waving a hand.
“All right, all right,” Vander looks around the table. “I think most of us are done eating. Who wants to help with the dishes?”
There's a collective groan from the rest of the table. No one likes doing dishes.
Powder and Mylo immediately groan out a “not it,” and Claggor follows up with “You all know I'm terrible at dishes-”
“Don't look at me either,” Silco grumbles. Vander just sighs and shakes his head.
and that just leaves you and Vi... great, just great.
You're about to argue as well, anything to get out of being stuck in the kitchen with Vi, but she beats you to it. “Yeah, we'll do it,” she says, before you can even open your mouth.
“Oh, I-” you pause for a moment. You had been fully intending to dodge the chore, but now you can't without looking like an ass and leaving her alone to do dishes.
Vi stands up and picks up the nearest stack of dirty dishes, balancing them on her arms as she turns to you. She shoots you a look, almost like she's daring you to try and weasel out of helping.
You get the hint, shaking your head a little and standing up. This is absolutely the last thing you want to do right now.
You follow her to the kitchen, grabbing a few more dishes along the way.
She holds the kitchen door open for you, and you step into the little kitchen with its small stone countertops and simple appliances. You set the dishes down on the counter near the sink, turning to find Vi already rolling up her sleeves.
She's not looking at you, but when she starts to roll up the left side of her shirt sleeve, you swear you can see her eyes dart over to you for a split second.
You pause, staring at the side of her face. You can't tell if she's... no, you must be imagining things. The light must be playing tricks.
She clears her throat, raising one eyebrow. “What, you're not gonna help?”
“No, no, I am,” you hurriedly say, turning away as you start to roll up your sleeves.
You're not going to look at her. Not at the way her forearm flexes when she reaches down to turn on the water, not at the way she bends over to grab some dish soap, and definitely not at the way her shirt tightens across her shoulders.
Yeah, you're definitely not going to look at her. Not at the way her fingers move when she soaps up the dishes, not the way her biceps flex when she bends her elbow, and especially not at the way her hair falls into her face when she scrubs at a stubborn stain.
Why is she so fit?
You look down at your own hands, watching the water and soap bubble up between your fingers. You start washing another dish, trying your absolute hardest to look anywhere except at her.
The minutes tick by in awkward silence, but eventually, your mind starts to wander. After all, washing dishes is pretty damn boring.
You glance over at her again, out of the corner of your eye, watching the way her shoulder blades shift under her shirt. The fabric of her shirt is stretched taut against her shoulders, and you wonder what she looks like under it if she still has all the same muscles....
Yeah, okay, you really have to stop staring at her.
“Can I ask you a question?”
Well, so much for not looking at her. Your head snaps up at the sound of her voice, and you force yourself to just focus on scrubbing at the glass in your hands. 
“Depends what the question is,” you grumble, shifting a little.
You expect her to ask you something about your current life or something generic. What happened when you were gone, what life was like where you were?
Instead, she asks something completely left-field.
“Do you ever think about us?”
You tense up, the glass in your hands slipping a little in your grip. You were not expecting that question. Hell no, you were literally not expecting that question.
How are you supposed to answer that? yes? no? sometimes?
What was she even expecting to hear? did she want you to say yes, to say that you always thought about her, that you would've come back to her in a heartbeat if you could've? or did she just want to hear you say no, to hear that you moved on, that you had to move on because it was either that or let yourself fall apart?
‘Sometimes’ was definitely not the answer you would've given months ago.
Now, though? you would admit that sometimes, after a rough morning or a particularly lonely night, you'd let yourself think about her. You'd remember those nights you spent in her apartment, on her shitty couch, talking her ear off about everything and nothing, the nights where the two of you would sit on the couch and watch tv, her head resting on your shoulder, and you'd wonder if maybe... just maybe..
You wonder if she thinks about that kind of stuff too, if you cross her mind late at night when she's alone. You wonder if she still thinks about the nights where you would stay in bed together, talking for hours after a particularly good round, your head resting on her chest as she played with your hair, or the mornings where you'd wake up and find her making breakfast for you.
Yeah, you thought about her a lot.
But you couldn't say that to her. You can't tell her that you think about it all the time, about how sometimes you can't fall asleep because you miss the feeling of laying in bed with her, about how you always find your hands searching for her in the middle of the night. No, you absolutely cannot tell her that, no matter how badly you wanted to.
“I used to,” you say instead of letting your thoughts wander any farther. “Not anymore.”
You keep scrubbing, even after there's no longer any more dirt on the glass. Just so you have a reason not to look at her, just so you have a shield from the thoughts you know are brewing in her quiet mind.
She's quiet for a moment, and you can feel her looking at you. Looking at you, reading you, trying to figure out if you're telling the truth or not.
After a few moments, she takes a breath like she's going to speak, but then stops herself. It's something you're all too familiar with. She's overthinking something, that much is obvious. She's trying to pick her words carefully, and damn, you just wish she'd spit it out.
The silence feels like it's been going on for a year, but really, it was only around a minute. Your knuckles are turning white from how tightly you're gripping the glass you're washing, and your shoulders are beginning to ache from how tense you are.
“What about you?” you murmur. “Do you... do you think about us?” You force yourself to look over at her, and you instantly wish you hadn't.
She's not looking at you now, she's not watching you suspiciously or anything like that. No, instead she's looking down, staring at the soapy water, and avoiding eye contact with you.
She's quiet for a second, her hands pausing in their scrubbing. “Yeah,” she finally says, “I do.”
Damn it. Her answer goes straight to your gut and twists deep inside you.
You were absolutely expecting a solid “no”, hell, you were even preparing yourself for a cruel “god, no.”
Anything, anything other than “I do.”
She continues scrubbing at a plate as if she hasn't just turned your world upside down. How are you supposed to react to her answer? do you say something, do you not say something?
“Why?” the question leaves your lips before you can stop yourself.
“Why do you think so?”
You don't say anything, you just shrug your shoulders. You genuinely don't know. You'd just blurted out the question without actually knowing what you wanted the answer to be.
Her eyes linger on yours for a few seconds, and you can't quite read them. She looks like she wants to say something, she looks like she wants to reach out and hold you, and you'd bet real money that if circumstances were different, she would've done exactly that.
Instead, she just averts her gaze back to the sink and lets out a sigh. “I don't know... I just do.”
You go back to scrubbing dishes. It's obvious there are a million things that you want to say, that you need to say.
“Oh,” is all you say in response, and the word hangs in the air awkwardly.
You're both quiet for a few minutes after that. It's quiet, except for the faint music playing in the background and the sounds of dishes clinking against one another.
A few times, you catch yourself glancing over at her, trying to pick up any hint of what she could be thinking, what she might say next. But, every time, she stubbornly keeps her eyes down on the dishes she's scrubbing. It's frustrating, the way she just won't look at you, and what pisses you off most is the fact that you understand why she won't look at you.
You have a feeling that if she were to look at you, if she were to meet your eyes right now, she'd either burst into tears or shove you into a storage closet and kiss you until your lungs burned.
You don't know which one would be worse.
It's so quiet, so awkward. You're both just scrubbing and scrubbing, refusing to look at the other.
Every time she takes a breath, you look over at her, convinced she's about to speak. But, time and time again, she doesn't, and the only sound to come from her is a shaky exhale.
It's maddening.
The sound of Claggor's voice finally breaks the stifling silence, and you let out a breath you didn't know you'd been holding. He peeks his head into the kitchen, grinning widely. “Yo, you two almost done here? Powder is about to get impatient.”
You're thankful for the interruption, and judging by the look on Vi's face, so is she.
“Yeah, we're done,” Vi mutters, glancing up from the dish she's been washing for the last ten minutes.
You dry your hands off on a nearby towel, trying to look unaffected. “We're finished.” 
Claggor grins again, “Thank God, Powder is about to start biting people.” He laughs, then disappears back into the main room.
“That sounds like her,” she says with a chuckle, scrubbing her hands off on a towel.
“Guest we should head out there then,” you murmur, trying to get her to actually look at you.
She hesitates for a second, still running the towel over her hands even though they're no longer wet. She looks down for a moment as if she's contemplating something, then finally lifts her head to look at you.
Her jaw is tense like she's forcing herself to stay quiet. After a few seconds, her features soften a little. “Yeah.”
You want to ask her what she's thinking, you want to ask her why. Instead, you just push the door of the kitchen open and gesture for her to go first.
“Now that we've had an amazing dinner, it's time for the best part of the night.”
Everyone gathers around, now sitting either on the couch or on the floor. Powder and Mylo immediately get squished together on the floor. Powder mutters under her breath, “Hey! you're shoving me!”
“Only because you're taking up too much space.”
Vander smiles from his spot on the couch. “Alright! It's time for secret santa. Everyone remembers who they drew, right?”
A group of nods and hums go around as everyone pulls out the slips of paper that have the names they drew.
Vander clasps his hands together. “Good!” he says as he looks around the room, his smile getting wider. “Who wants to go first?”
A few seconds of silence, then Powder’s hand shoots up. As always, she's the most excited one. “me!”
Vander laughs. “Well, look at that, our little girl is so eager. Okay, you can go first, Pow-Pow.”
Powder smiles and scrambles off the floor, almost tripping over herself as she pulls a present from beneath the Christmas tree. She glances down at the tag and grins.
She then scans the room with a giddy smile, then her eyes land on Silco.
She bounds over to him, practically shoving the present into his hands as she sits down on the floor next to his legs. 
Silco smiles faintly as he takes the present. “Alright, let's see what you got me, hm?” He's quiet as he carefully unwraps the present, and Powder watches him who barely contains her excitement.
After a moment, the wrapping paper is set aside, and the present is now fully unwrapped. It's just a little box, though Silco is curious as to what's inside.
He glances at Powder as he takes the lid off the box, looking a little wary. Powder just grins at him. “Go on, open it,” she encourages.
He looks back at the box and, with a little nod, reaches in and pulls out the item inside. He holds it in his hands and looks at it curiously, then looks at Powdr with a raised eyebrow.
She's still grinning, and she looks extremely pleased with herself. Mylo glances over to look and snorts out a laugh. “Would you look at that?”
Silco looks at the item in his hands, then looks at Powder again. “You got me…” he begins, trying to sound unimpressed. “...a little shark plushie?”
Powder nods, her grin getting wider, still very pleased with herself. “Yep!” she exclaims, “I got you a little shark plushie. You like it, right?”
Silco glances at the plushie and then at her again, looking vaguely fond. He carefully sets it down on his lap, then smiles a little.
“I adore it.”
Her grin somehow widens even more. She's clearly happy with herself. Silco chuckles a little under his breath, then looks around. “Who's next?”
Claggor shrugs, raising a hand. “I'll go,” he offers, to which Vander nods.
“Go ahead, Claggs,” he says approvingly.
Claggor gets to his feet from his spot on the floor, then moves to the tree. He crouches down and rummages around, looking for the present with the correct name tag.
A minute passes as a few minutes go by. He eventually stands back up, a small present in his hands. He looks around the room, then his eyes land on Mylo, who's now lying down on the floor and looking very bored.
Claggor moves over to him, tossing the present into his lap. Mylo looks up and catches the present, shooting him a glare. “You couldn't have done that a little nicer?” he complains while sitting up.
Claggor just shrugs and gives him a flat look. “Suck it up,” he tells him bluntly before sitting back down.
Mylo scoffs and begins to unwrap the present, ripping the wrapping paper off carelessly. He tosses the wrapping paper away, then looks down at the present as he tears the box open. He's quiet for a moment, looking at the contents...
..and then he groans, covering his face.
“Oh, come the hell on,” he grumbles, though he sounds more whiny than anything else. He glances up from his hands to give Claggor a withering look.
“Dude, seriously?”
“What?”
Mylo just sighs, shooting the toy in the box with a dismayed look. “Really? a stress ball?”
Claggor shrugs. “I thought it was a good idea,” he says, clearly not bothered by Mylo's unimpressed tone. “And you seem to be lacking a bit in the stress management department.”
“Well, excuse me for being a bit stressed when you're being a dick.”
“See, you need the stress ball. You proved my point right there.”
Mylo just groans and throws his head back. He picks up the stress ball and squeezes it hard. “I hate you.”
Claggor merely grins. “I love you too.”
Mylo mutters something under his breath, too quiet for anyone to hear, then looks up as he addresses the group. “So, who's up next? I'm sure there's some poor sap itching to go.”
Silco raises a hand. “I'll go next,” he offers.
Everyone glances at him, then nods and gestures for him to go. He gets up off the couch and saunters to the tree. He scans the presents beneath it, moving a few aside to find the one he was looking for.
He finally finds it and smirks to himself, grabbing the present and standing up. His eyes sweep over the group, taking in everyone's expressions. He then turns and walks over to Vander, holding the present out to him.
Vander glances at the present, then at Silco, taking the present and curiously giving it a little shake. “What is it?” he asks curiously.
Silco just grins in a vaguely irritating way and sits back down. “Just open it,” he replies, his voice dripping with innocence.
Vander raises an eyebrow but begins to unwrap the present meticulously, occasionally shooting Silco a glance, as if expecting something. He peels away the wrapping paper to reveal a small box, then looks at Silco, his eyes questioning.
Silco simply shrugs and gestures for him to go on. Vander quirks another eyebrow up but opens the box anyway, now a little intrigued.
Then a snort finally escapes him. He's now fighting to hold back laughter.
Mylo sits up suddenly, looking at Vander, then at Silco, curiosity in his eyes. “What? What is it?” he asks eagerly.
Vander doesn't answer for a moment. He's still staring into the box, looking like he can't believe what he's seeing.
He then looks up at Silco. “Please tell me you're joking,” he implores.
Silco's smile widens even more. “I couldn't be more serious,” he replies.
Vander lets out a long, suffering sigh, then digs through the tissue paper and pulls something out of the box.
It's a pair of comically large underwear, one that could practically fit an entire person inside of it.
Vander groans, holding the underwear up and staring at them with slight disgust.
Mylo and Powder both start laughing once they register what the present is. Powder laughs so hard she nearly falls over, clutching her stomach as she howls with laughter.
Vi's eyes widen at the sight of the underwear, her mouth dropping open a little in surprise. As much as it pains her to admit it... she just knows the jokes that Silco is going to start making any minute now.
…and she's right.
“You see, I thought it was a necessary gift.”
“Necessary?” Vander repeats, still holding the underwear up in disbelief.
Silco just nods. “Of course. you're getting old, and as you get older... accidents happen.”
“I'm not that old,” Vander grumbles, though he knows it's probably not the best argument.
Silco smirks, raising a hand and waving it dismissively. “Oh, you know what I mean. Things begin to... fail as you age. I simply wanted to make sure you had a spare pair.”
Mylo is now practically rolling on the floor, clutching his sides. “Oh, my god, I can't breathe—this is—this is gold,” he wheezes. Powder is laughing so hard she's choking, practically coughing her lungs up.
Vander sighs again, looking down at the underwear in his hands. He looks like he wants to throw it into the fire and destroy it right there.
He glances up at Silco, giving him a look that clearly says, 'I will get you back for this'.
Silco leans back against the couch and crosses an ankle over his knee, looking all too pleased with himself. “What? You don't like them? I personally thought they were a good choice.”
Vander opens his mouth to reply, but Powder interrupts him.
“Oh, god,” Powder chokes out, “you should try them on. They'd look perfect on you.”
Vander shoots Powder a glare to kill. “No way in hell,” he mutters firmly, folding his arms and sitting back.
But Powder’s not done. “Come on, just try them on,” she wheezes. “It really would be a look for you.”
Vander turns his glare to Powder, his expression clearly saying, 'I will murder you if you keep talking.'
“No,” he replies through gritted teeth.
Even Silco is starting to look amused.
“Just for a second,” she teases, “come on, just long enough for us to see. We won't even say anything.”
Vander lets out another long, suffering sigh.
He shoots a sneering look at both Silco and Powder. Eventually he lets out an exasperated grumble and stands up, mumbling something under his breath as he heads into the bathroom with the underwear.
Mylo falls back onto the floor, clutching his stomach.
Silco is laughing too, watching as Vander heads to the bathroom to change.
Mylo is dying of laughter, gasping for air in between wheezes. “Holy shit,” he chokes out. “He's really doing it.”
It takes a few minutes, but eventually the bathroom door swings open and Vander exits, looking like he regrets every decision he's made that led him to this.
His face is as red as a tomato as he stomps back over to them in the gigantic underwear.
Mylo and Powder are losing it again, falling over and rolling on the floor with laughter.
Silco is smiling, trying to stifle a laugh. “Oh my,” he says, barely containing his amusement. “They look even better than I imagined,” he comments.
Vander can hardly look anyone in the eye, still red with embarrassment. “I hate you. I hate you all.”
Claggor looks at Silco and Powder, clearly trying not to laugh. “You guys are terrible,” he says, a trace of a smile on his face.
Vi can't hold back her laughter anymore, she's grinning from ear to ear. “You look... perfect,” she comments through a strangled chuckle.
Vander turns his glare on her, still red with embarrassment. “I hate you all,” he repeats, shaking his head.
Powder is still giggling from the floor. “I want pictures,” she wheezes, holding up her phone.
Vander looks like he wants to smack her head off. “Absolutely not. I forbid it,” he snaps, sounding as serious as someone wearing comically large underwear can.
Powder just pouts, lowering her phone. “Oh, come on,” she says with a whine, looking up at Vander with puppy-dog eyes. “Just a few.”
“No, I'm not having pictures of me in these... embarrassing things circulating the internet.”
“The internet? Who said anything about the internet?” she replies, a smirk on her face. “I just meant... a few for my own personal, um, research.”
He opens his mouth to say something, but Silco chimes in first. “Oh, come on. Humor her. It's the season of giving.”
Vander turns his glare to Silco, his expression almost murderous. “There's no way in hell—”
“Pleeeease?” Powder interrupts, holding out her phone again.
Vander looks like he's about to argue, but Powder is already giving him those damn puppy-dog eyes that he struggles to resist.
He hesitates, then, with a grumble, he sighs. “Fine, one picture.”
Powder looks like a kid on Christmas. The instant the word 'picture' leaves Vander's mouth, she leaps to her feet and lifts up her phone.
“Stand up straighter.”
Vander obeys, reluctantly straightening up.
“Say cheese,” she grins.
Vander grumbles under his breath, but he cooperates. “Cheese,” he mutters, putting on a strained smile.
Powder snaps the picture, then lowers her phone and looks at it with a satisfied smile. “Oh yeah, you're getting on the naughty list for this one,” she grins, wiggling the phone a little.
Once the picture-taking is over and Vander changes his clothes back, Silco motions for Powder to settle down.
“Alright, settle down. It's time to continue with the secret Santa,” Silco says, looking at the others.
They all nod in agreement, still snickering but mostly focusing on the present exchange.
“Who wants to go next?” Silco asks, looking around the group.
Mylo looks around, then grins. “My turn.”
Powder rolls her eyes, knowing that look on his face all too well. “Here we go,” she mutters under her breath, preparing herself for whatever nonsense Mylo is about to come up with.
Mylo smirks, holding up his present. “Well, I drew someone's name... and it was a pretty easy choice.” He then looks around the group with mock innocence. “Oh, where's my victim?”
Claggor lets out a defeated sigh. “Who exactly is the unlucky person this year?”
“There's only one person who I could have possibly chosen…”
“Would you just spit it out before the suspense kills me?” Powder snaps, impatient.
Mylo huffs. “Jeez, have some patience,” he grumbles. “Anyway, my secret santa is…”
Vander sighs, looking like he's already regretting this. Claggor puts his head in his hands, bracing himself.
“My secret santa is, drumroll please…” they reluctantly drum their hands against any surface near them.  “My very special secret Santa is…”
Claggor covers his face with his hands, looking like he's praying.
Mylo grins, looking from face to face, savoring the moment before he does the big reveal.
“My secret Santa... is Powder!”
“Fuck!” she groans, burying her head in her hands.
“Aww, what's the matter, Pow?” Mylo grins, holding up the wrapped present.
Powder lets out another groan, glaring up at him. “You're the worst,” she mutters, looking like she's praying to any god out there to just put her out of her misery already.
Mylo grins, clearly getting a kick out of her misfortune. “Come on, don't be like that. It could be worse, I could have gotten you a box of spiders,” Mylo teases, shaking the present in her direction.
Powder looks like she's seriously considering that as a better option. “You know what? Give me the spiders. Spiders would be better than whatever it is you got me.”
“Nice try. You're not getting out of it that easily,” he says, holding the present just out of her reach. “You have to open it, come on.”
Powder grumbles in protest, then reluctantly reaches out for the present. She snatches it out of his hands, shooting him a glare. “If I die from this, I'm going to haunt you for the rest of your life,” she mutters, slowly tearing the wrapping paper.
Then, Powder tears back the last piece of wrapping paper, revealing a plain black box. “What the hell is this?” she mutters, looking like she's already fed up with whatever shenanigans Mylo has come up with.
“You're going to have to open it and see for yourself.”
Powder grumbles, giving Mylo a glare that could freeze hell over. She slowly opens the black box, not sure what to expect.
“Please tell me this is not what I think it is,” she mutters, looking like she's two seconds away from throwing the entire box at Mylo's head.
The others lean in closer, curiosity getting the better of them.
“You did not get me what I think you got me.”
“Oh, you're going to have to be more specific than that,” he replies, trying to hide his smirk.
Powder glares at him, her jaw clenching. “You know what I'm talking about,” she snaps, looking like she's contemplating dumping the contents of the box over his head.
Mylo just shrugs, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “I honestly have no idea what you're talking about.” 
Vander just rubs his face with one hand, knowing that this situation is about to spiral out of control.
“You're telling me,” Powder hisses through clenched teeth, “that you didn't get me exactly what I think you got me?”
“Like I said, you'll have to be a bit more specific,” he responds, looking entirely too smug for his own good.
Powder looks like she's about to explode. “Mylo, I swear to-”
Claggor cuts her off, knowing that she's about to blow her top. “Calm down, Powder,” he says, placing a hand on her shoulder.
“I'll calm down when the box goes straight over his head.”
“Why so angry? I thought you'd be excited.”
“I can't wait to make you eat that box,” she mutters, her hands clenching into fists.
“Oh, I'm so scared.”
Vander interjects, trying to diffuse the tension. “That's enough. No need to start throwing things around.”
“I was just having fun.”
“Yeah, have fun with a black eye.”
“Enough,” Silco says, giving both Powder and Mylo stern looks.
Both Mylo and Powder grumble, reluctantly backing down a bit.
“Can we all just get back to opening presents, please?” Vander asks, sounding exasperated.
The others nod in agreement, though Powder still looks like she's not done with Mylo yet. She glares at him one last time before reluctantly returning to her seat.
Mylo just grins, clearly enjoying having gotten the last word in. He takes his own seat next to Claggor, looking very pleased with himself.
The others exchange glances, silently agreeing to not let Powder and Mylo be too close to each other for the rest of the evening.
Silco clears his throat, getting everyone's attention. “Now, who's next?” he asks, looking around the room.
Vander nods, leaning back in his seat. “I'm up next, I guess,” he mutters. He rummages at the gifts under the Christmas tree. After a few moments of searching, Vander finally finds the present he was looking for. He picks it up, holding it in his lap.
“This one's for you,” he says, handing the present to Claggor.
Claggor takes the present, looking curious. He glances down at it, then looks up at Vander with a soft smile. “Thanks,” he says, starting to unwrap it.
Once the wrapping paper is off, Claggor is holding a box of assorted tools. They range from pliers to wrenches to screwdrivers.
“Just like you requested,”  Vander says, watching as Claggor starts inspecting the tools.
“Wow, these are great. Thanks, dad,” he replies, running a hand over the tools in the box.
Vander smiles, clearly pleased to see that Claggor likes his present. “I thought you'd like them. I saw them at the pawnshop the other day and figured you could use them.”
“I definitely will. These are a huge upgrade compared to what I have now.”
Vander reaches over and pats Claggor on the shoulder. “You deserve it. You've been working your ass off lately.”
Vander looks around the room, looking for the next person to take their turn. “Alright, who's up next?” he asks, eyeing everyone lazily.
Mylo's head suddenly snaps up, a smirk on his face. “Oh goodie, it's Vi's turn.”
“Come on, Vi, your turn,” Silco says, looking a little amused.
“Yeah, yeah. Hold your horses,” she mumbles, getting to her feet and making her way over to the christmas tree.
Vi crouches down, rummaging through the presents. After a few moments, she finally finds the present. She grabs it, standing back up. She looks over at you, looking a little bit like she's been caught doing something she's not supposed to do.
She makes her way over to where you're sitting, holding out the present. “Here, this one's for you,” she mutters, looking a little tense.
You take the present from her, looking down at it. It's heavy in your hands, the wrapping paper slightly crinkled from how hard she was holding it. “Thanks, Vi,” you say, looking up at her.
“Don't mention it, babe,” she mutters, her voice sounding a bit strained.
Powder and Mylo both let out a chorus of ‘aww’ when they heard her use the nickname.
“Shut up, you two,” she says, glaring at them both.
You start unwrapping the present, tearing off the festive wrapping paper to reveal what's inside.
Once the wrapping paper is off, you're holding a small box. It's plain, made of brown cardboard, and doesn't look like much. But as you look back up at Vi, you can see a hint of nervousness on her face.
She's watching you intently, her expression almost anxious. It's a look you don't often see on her face, and it's a little startling.
Still curious, you glance back down at the box in your hands. You lift off the lid, opening it slowly.
There, nestled in a bed of tissue paper, is a necklace. It's a silver chain with a small silver heart pendant. It looks delicate and beautiful, and judging by the look on Vi's face, she spent a lot of time picking it out.
You slowly reach into the box, lifting the necklace out of the tissue paper. You hold it up, letting the chain dangle from your fingers. It glints in the light, the pendants catching the glow from the Christmas tree lights.
Vi is still watching you intently, her eyes fixed on the necklace. She shifts a little on her feet, looking like she's holding her breath. 
“Do you like it?”
You look up from the necklace, meeting her gaze. “Yeah, I do,” you respond, your voice just a little bit shaky. “It's beautiful.”
You hold the necklace in your hand, running your thumb over the pendant. Without even thinking, you reach up and clasp the necklace around your neck.
It fits snugly against your skin, the pendant resting on your collarbone.
You look up, catching Vi watching you as you adjust the necklace. “Looks good on you,” she says, her voice lower than usual.
“Thanks,” you reply, still running your thumb over the pendant.
Mylo and Powder both let out another chorus of ‘aww’ clearly touched by the sight.
Vi shoots them another glare, her eyes narrowing. “Would you two shut up, for Christ's sake?”
“Oh, come on, sis. It's cute” Powder teases.
“Ah, young love,” Silco says. 
Vander chuckles, nodding his head. “I remember my younger days.”
“Don't you mean your younger hookups?” Silco shoots back.
Vander grins, holding his hands up. “Guilty as charged.”
Silco laughs, shaking his head. “Some things never change.” Then, he glances around the room, looking for who's turn it is next. “Lasty, who's next?” he asks, looking at everyone present.
You look around, seeing that almost everyone has given out their gift. It's obvious that your turn is next. “I'm up next.”
You get to your feet, making your way over to where the presents are. then you hold the present in your hands, not looking up quite yet. You can feel Vi's eyes on you.
This is it. You take a deep breath and look up, meeting her gaze. 
You walk over to her, your heart beating a little faster. You feel a little bit nervous, but you try to push it down.
You stop in front of her, holding out the present. “Here you go, babe.” 
Vi's expression softens a bit, her eyes darting down to the gift in your hands. She reaches out and grabs it, looking slightly puzzled.
You watch silently as she unwraps the gift. 
Vi looks at it, her eyebrows raised. “Is this... a sweater?” she asks, a little bewildered. It's clearly hand-knit, with uneven stitching and a clashing color scheme.
“I made it myself,”
“You made it?” she asks. “Like, with your own two hands?”
“Obviously..”
“I mean... it's…” she starts, her voice trailing off as she tries to find the right words.
“It's hideous?” you suggest.
She winces a little, looking like she can't deny it. “Yeah, kinda…” she mutters.
“Hey,” you say, mock-indignant. “I spent a lot of time making that, you know.”
“I can tell.”
“Then, try it on.”
Vi hesitates for a moment, looking at you a little warily. “Seriously?”
“Seriously,” you nudge her. “Just try it on, for me.”
She sighs, clearly realizing there's no way out of this. “Fine.”
She pulls it over her head, struggling a bit to get her arms through the sleeves. The fit is a little awkward, and the sweater seems a little too small. But somehow, it kind of makes her look... cute?
She tugs at the sleeves, looking down at herself. “How do I look?” 
You pretend to look her over, like you're seriously considering the question. “I dunno,” you reply. “it's... something.”
“Be serious. I look like an idiot, don't I?”
“Don't be like that” you tease, reaching out to straighten the collar of the sweater. “It's not that bad.”
“Not ‘that bad?’” she repeats. “Are you kidding? I look like a walking christmas tree,” she groans, tugging at the sleeves yet again.
“I think you look…. fine”
“That's the best you've got? 'fine?'”
“What do you want me to say?”
“I don't know,” she mutters, sounding slightly petulant. “Something more than just 'fine’”
“Okay, okay,” you say, holding up your hands. “Let me rephrase that, you look…” you pause, scratching your chin “...very christmas-y”
“You really know how to boost a girl's ego.”
“I didn't realize you needed your ego stroked.”
“I don't,” she protests, a little flustered. “I'm just saying, a little bit more enthusiasm would be appreciated.”
Silco clears his throat, drawing everyone's attention. “Ahem, now that the present giving is concluded…” he glances around at the crowd.
Silence falls over the room as everyone waits for Silco to speak. The tick-tock of the grandfather clock is the only sound that can be heard.
Silco glances at the clock, a smile on his face. “It appears to be midnight,” he says, pausing for emphasis. “Which means…”
A chorus of “Merry Christmas!” rises up from the group, everyone sounding festive and cheerful. 
You look back to Vi, who is still fiddling with the sweater. “Merry Christmas,” you whisper, not wanting the others to hear.
She glances at you, a small smile touching her lips. “Merry Christmas to you too,” she replies, her voice just as quiet as yours.
Awkwardly you glance down at the carpet, unsure of what to say next. 
“Hey,” she says suddenly, her voice drawing your attention. “Can I talk to you for a second…? In private?”
“Sure,” you agree, following her as she leads you away from the group.
She leads you into a small back room, closing the door behind her. The room is dimly lit, with only a few bare light bulbs lining the walls. Aside from a few boxes and some old crates, the room is empty.
She turns to face you, leaning against the wall. She's quiet for a moment, her gaze averted to the floor. you can tell she's trying to find the right words, fiddling with the hem of the sweater again.
“Listen,” she begins, finally meeting your eyes. “I know this is weird, and I know things are... difficult right now. But…” she pauses, letting out a short sigh. “I just want to say one thing…”
“Go on,” you encourage.
“I…” she starts, then falters. Her tongue darts out to wet her lips, nervousness flitting across her features. Her gaze drops to the floor.
“Well, I just…” her fingers fumble at the edge of her sweater. “I just... I miss you.”
Your heart skips a beat as she finally says the words out loud.
You've been wanting her to say that for weeks, months even. After everything that's happened between the two of you, you desperately wanted to hear those very words fall from her lips. But now that she's saying it...
What the hell do you say to that?
You're speechless, stunned into silence by her honesty. You open your mouth, intending to say something, anything. but words seem completely lost to you at this point. You just stand there, staring at her, dumbfounded.
“Say something,” she finally says, her voice tense. “Say anything. You're just staring at me like an idiot.”
“I don't know what to say.” Because, you really don't know what to say. You have so much you want to say, but somehow the words get stuck in your throat.
“Say you hate me. Say you never want to get back together. Just... say something.”
She's waiting. Waiting for something, anything. An opinion, a response. something, anything from you. But what can you say? Do you tell her the truth—that you've missed her so much you can't even sleep at night? that the last month has felt like a living hell, having no contact with her?
You want to tell her that you hate her for throwing you away just to come back around wanting something from you again, but your tongue feels like cotton.
“Say something… yell at me, curse me out, anything!”
But her tone gets under your skin, and suddenly you feel the anger start to build inside of you. 
Who does she think she is, demanding a response from you? she's the one who tossed you aside without a second thought. You're sick of this. You've done everything for her, given her everything she wanted, and here she is, pushing you for more.
It is too much—all too much. Without a word, you turn from her, heading toward the door. You can't do this anymore. 
You hear her call out your name as you shove open the door, but you don't stop. You make your way back, stopping at Vander's side.
“Vander, I'm going to head out.”
Vander nods, giving you a knowing look. He can tell something's going on, but he's wise enough not to press the issue.
“Alright, kid,” he says gruffly. “Get some rest, yeah?”
You nod your head, forcing a smile onto your face. “Yeah, I'll try,” you mutter, giving him a wave before starting towards the exit.
When you pass by Silco, he gives you a curious look. You catch his gaze and give him a small nod.
Finally, you make your way out the front door. The cold night air hits your face, making you shiver. You take a deep breath, preparing yourself for the walk home.
But then you hear the door swing open behind you, her footsteps hurry after you.
“Wait!” her voice calls out. “Wait, stop!”
You keep walking, your steps quick. You're trying to get as far away from her as possible to outrun all of the feelings that came rushing back to you—
“Let me walk you home.”
Her words cut through your thoughts, sharp and unexpected. You falter, your steps slowing down.
You stop walking, turning around to face her. “What?”
She's standing there, looking like a kicked puppy. Her shoulders are slumped, her expression sheepish. She can tell you're not happy she's followed you out here, but she looks like she doesn't care.
She lets out a huff, her breath coming out in a white cloud in the cold air. “I just... look, whatever happened in there, whatever happened between us... just let me look out for you. Just let me walk you home. I.. I have to know you're safe.”
“I don't need a babysitter,” you practically growl, your irritation obvious. “I can handle myself.”
Vi flinches at your words, but she doesn't back down. If anything, she squares her shoulders and lifts her chin. “I know you can,” she snaps. “I'm not offering to babysit you. I'm just... I'm just asking to walk you home.”
You glance back at the entrance of their house, the warm lights and sounds spilling out into the cold night air. 
You turn back to look at her, your voice softer this time. “You don't have to walk me home. We don't have to keep up the act anymore, I'm going home and... you've got better things to do than worry about me.”
“Screw the act,” she mutters. “I'm walking you home. It's not up for debate.”
You stare at her, baffled by her insistence. “Seriously? What's the point, Vi? We're not together anymore. Why bother?”
Her jaw clenches, her shoulders tensing. You know she hates this. She hates hearing you say it. Her heart is on her sleeve, and you're tearing pieces out of it, right in front of her.
“Because I care!” she snaps. “Maybe it's hard for you to believe, but I still care about you.”
You shake your head, scoffing at her words. “No, no, no, you don't get to act like you care now. You're the one who broke up with me. You're the one who walked away and left me.”
“I made a mistake,okay? I was a damn idiot, and I screwed up.”
“A mistake?” you echo, scoffing again. “You ended everything, and now you want to walk me home? What, you think that makes up for everything? You think it’s that easy? You threw away everything we had like it meant nothing, like all those months we spent together meant nothing.”
Your voice is trembling with anger as you continue. “And then what did you do? You went around, throwing yourself at anyone that gave you a second glance, like I never meant anything to you. Yeah, I know all about that. So don't try to act like you actually care when you clearly didn't give two shits.”
She looks away, her jaw clenching. “I was trying to get over you. I was trying to push you out of my head and it hurts like hell. Every night, every morning, it was like there was a hole inside of me, and no matter how hard I tried to fill it, no matter how many times I went out, how many times I tried to forget you, nothing worked. You were stuck in my head, and I hated it.”
She takes a step closer to you. “I know it sounds stupid. I know it doesn't make any sense. I just... I needed something to distract me, something to keep me from thinking about you. Because it hurt too damn much to think about how much I messed things up.”
“Yeah, congrats. You did a damn good job at distracting yourself, huh? It sure as hell didn't take you very long to get over me.”
She winces again, the guilt written all over her face. “You have no idea how many times I wanted to reach out to you. How many times I thought about coming back to you and begging you to take me back.”
“But you didn't,” you say. “You didn't reach out to me, you didn't try to fix things. So why should I believe you now? Why should I believe that you're sincere when you didn't care enough to fight for us before?”
She looks down, unable to meet your gaze. “What was I supposed to do?” she whispers. “I messed up. I messed things up and I don't know how to fix it. I don’t know how to take back what I did, how to make things like they were before I messed up. All I know is that I miss you. I miss you so damn much, and I’d do anything to have you back.”
You swallow hard, your throat suddenly dry. Everything she's saying, it's everything you've wanted to hear for months. It feels like a dream.
But you can’t let yourself fall back into this. Not when you’ve worked so hard to move on. Not when you’ve spent so many nights crying into your pillow, reminding yourself that she didn’t care enough to fix things, to fight for you.
“Why now—Why do you want me back now, after all this time? Why didn’t you want me back when it mattered, when I needed you?”
She looks up at you, desperation in her eyes. “Because I was an idiot! Because I was stupid, and scared, and I thought walking away would make it easier, but it just made it worse. Because I spent every damn night regretting that I let you go and wishing that I could take it all back. I'm sorry. I'm so damn sorry for what I put you through.”
“Sorry doesn't fix things,” you say, your voice shaking. “Sorry doesn't take away the pain, sorry doesn't undo what you did.”
She nods, a tear slipping down her cheek. “I know saying sorry won't magically fix things, but I am sorry. I'm sorry for hurting you, I'm sorry for walking away, I'm sorry for everything I did wrong. Just... just give me a chance. Give me a chance to make things right.”
She takes another step forward, her eyes pleading. “Give me a chance. Let me prove to you that I love you and that I want to make things right. If I screw up again, you can toss me to the curb and never speak to me again. But please, just give me one more chance.”
“I don't know,” you murmur. “I just... I don't know.”
“I'll do anything. I'll get on my knees every day if I have to. I'll beg on my hands and knees. I'll crawl on my hands and knees. I'll grovel on the ground. Just... please, just give me one chance.”
“I'll think about it. Just...just give me some time to think things over.”
“Okay, okay. I'll give you time or whatever you need. Just please don’t shut me out completely.”
Without hesitation, she envelops you in a tight hug. Her arms wrap around your waist, her face burying into your neck. Her body clings to you, every part of her desperate and needy. “I miss you so much,” she mumbles.
You stand awkwardly, unsure of what to do. But then, your body betrays you, your arms slowly wrapping around her.
For the first time in a long while, you're holding her again. Her warmth, her scent, her touch—it’s all so familiar, so painfully familiar. So damn familiar that it hurts.
“I hate you.”
“I don't blame you,” she pulls back a little, her hands coming up to cup your face.
She lifts her hand, brushing a lock of hair away from your face. “I hate you so much,” you repeat, a tear falling down your cheek.
“I deserve that,” she says, her thumbs gently wiping away your tear.
“Damn right you do.”
You have no idea what to do or what to feel. Everything is a mess, and you're drowning in it.
For now, all you could do was hold her tight and bury your face in her shoulder. 
You hated how good she felt against you and how right it felt to be held by her. You hated the way your heart skipped a beat whenever she whispered in your ear. 
Damn her for making things so confusing, for making you feel so damn much.
You felt her hand rubbing your back, her fingers tracing circles over your skin. It was a soothing gesture, a silent apology for all the pain she had caused. It only made things worse, making your heart ache even more.
If only things had been different. If only she had been more communicative. If only she had been more sensitive to your feelings. If only she had been there for you when you needed her.
If only she hadn’t walked away and left you broken. If only she hadn’t hurt you the way she had.
And most of all, if only you had been strong enough to push her away and protect yourself from this mess.
But here you are, standing in the middle of a street wrapped in her arms. You felt like a fool, like a damn idiot, for still wanting her after everything.
You wanted to hate her, you wanted to make her suffer the way you had suffered.
But how could you hate her when she was looking at you like that? how could you hate her when she was holding you like this?
It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair that she still had this kind of effect on you. 
Her eyes met yours, and you saw everything you had missed, everything you had longed for. and you knew, right then, that you were in damn trouble.
In the window, Vander and Silco watched you and Vi from afar, the soft glow of the christmas lights casting shadows over their faces.
Silco takes a drag of his cigarette, the smoke curling around him as he exhales. “Your little plan worked quite well,” he says, looking at Vander with a sly smile.
Vander just shrugs, sipping his drink. “I don’t know what you are talking about,” he replies, keeping his expression neutral.
“You're not fooling anyone.”
Vander hums, taking another sip of his drink. “I don't know what you mean,” he says again, keeping his gaze locked on you and Vi.
Silco let out a puff of smoke, a smirk playing on his lips. “Don't play coy, Vander. You knew damn well what you were doing when you rigged that secret santa.”
“I may have had a little influence,” he admits.
“A little influence? oh, don't downplay it. You wanted them back together, and you knew exactly how to make it happen.”
“I have had a hunch that they still cared about each other,” he says, his voice casual. “And plus, I don't want to see Vi moping around for the past months.”
“And we couldn't have that, could we? seeing her moping around like a lovestruck puppy.”
Vander nods. “She was really terrible at hiding it,” he says. “always pacing around, always looking like she lost a puppy.”
Silco takes another drag of his cigarette, blowing rings into the air. “It was painful to watch,” he says, shaking his head.
“It was like watching a kid trying to hide a secret… I just hope they figure things out.”
“I agree,” Silco says, his eyes flickering over to you and Vi. “Hopefully they can work things out.”
Vander hums in agreement. “Only time will tell.”
They watch in silence for a moment, seeing how you and Vi are still holding each other.
“I still wouldn't forgive you for that damn underwear you got me.”
“That was the funniest thing you could have received.”
Vander grumbles, narrowing his eyes at Silco. “I do not find it funny to receive underwear as a gift.”
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notes: idk what is happening
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thebeast-dennis-etcetera · 2 months ago
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Family Friend
Prompt: Jack Hotchner is arrested for underage drinking and the first person he calls to bail him out, is you.
It was almost 2 in the morning when you received the call.
"Y/N?" You heard the familiar voice of Jack Hotchnner's voice speak. He sounded small and almost scared.
"Jack?" You sat up in bed, immediately awake. "Are you alright?"
"I did something stupid Y/N. My dad's gonna kill me."
His words were slightly slurred and slow, imitating that of someone who had been drinking a lot. A million scenarios went through your head as you sprang out from under the covers, rushing to put on a change of clothes, holding your cell between your shoulder and ear.
"What happened Jack? Where are you?"
"I'm in jail. They said I could call someone so I called you. I know my dad is out of the state on a case, please don't tell him," he pleaded.
"Honey, I have to, he's your father. But we can talk about it when I get there. What jail exactly are you at?"
Once you were decent, you grabbed your keys and headed out the door.
"Fairfax I think- Oh God, Y/N, I'm so stupid, I don't even know why I was there. I-
"Jack, sweetheart. Don't say anymore, I'm headed to you now alright? Just sit tight."
He sniffled and let out an intoxicated hiccup. "Ok."
Hanging up, you dialed Aaron's number and put it on speaker as you got into your SUV, driving in the direction of the jail. The call picked up on the third ring and Aaron's sleepy voice mirrored your concerned tone from earlier.
"Y/N? Everything alright?"
"Jack just called me. I guess he's been arrested in Alexandria. He's fine, he's safe, but he did sound like he had been drinking. I'm on my way to pick him up now."
"What? Did he tell you what happened?" You imagined that he was doing the same as you, getting out of bed and dressing to catch the soonest plane out.
"No, I didn't want him to tell me over the phone. I can call you back once I get there and talk with him, I just wanted to give you a heads up."
"Thank you. I'm on my way as well." His voice was low and slightly gruff, telling you that he was pissed but trying to conceal it. You'd memorized all of his subtle tone and posture changes over the years of knowing him, having spent the better part of those years as one of his underlings before transferring units.
"Don't worry about it tonight Aaron, I've got it. You've got a case to solve."
Luckily, all of the lights were working in your favor as you had yet to hit a red, bringing you closer to Jack sooner.
"The team will be fine without me. I'll be there first thing tomorrow morning."
You knew there was no stopping him. He was as stubborn as a mule and you honestly couldn't blame him when it came to the fact that his son was just arrested for God knows what.
"And Y/N. Thank you. For being there."
You were glad he wasn't there to see the slight blush creeping into your face at his words as your voice spoke calmly, a strong opposite of what you were feeling.
"Of course Aaron. I'll always be there for you guys."
Your words lingered in the back of your mind after the both of you hung up, silently mocking your lovesick emotions. For years, the both of you had always kept your friendship that of which it was. A friendship, nothing more. As much as you may have wanted it to be something a little more...intimate. There were times you thought Aaron may have felt the same, by the way he looked at you just a second longer than necessary or how protective he'd get whenever he found out you were going out on a date. But he never voiced such sentiments to you, if he had any at all, causing you to bury your own.
It seemed to be the night that everyone was being arrested as you walked into the police station and towards the booking desk.
"I'm here for Jack Hotchner, he was brought in sometime tonight," you stated to the officer. She gave you a once over before typing into the computer, presumingly looking him up.
"Oh yeah. Looks like he was picked up from a neighborhood party for underage drinking. He's in the drunk tank. Hasn't stopped crying and telling everyone that his father is a FBI agent. That true?"
You sighed at the dramatics she described and sighed before answering. "Yes he is, and I'm Special Agent L/N, a family friend." You flashed your credentials, satisfying her interest and continuing on with the process of bail. 500 dollars later and a short phone call to Aaron to update him on everything, they delivered the still very drunk Jack Hotchner to you.
He practically ran into your arms, crying. "Y/N, I'm so sorry."
If you weren't such a sucker for the kid, you would've been giving him a very stern lecture on his reckless behavior. But you were a sucker and all you could do was hug him back tight and speak gently. "You're alright, I'm just glad you're safe. C'mon, let's get you home."
You thanked the cops and left the building, Jack following close behind obediently. Once the two of you were in the car and on your way back, you decided to have a few words.
"This can't happen again, Jack. You know that, right?"
He seemed to be fading in and out of sleep but was coherent enough to give you a nod of acknowledment.
"Just because you're not in jail anymore, doesn't mean there won't still be a punishment. You broke the law and your dad is not happy about that."
Suddenly at the mention of his father, his eyes sprung open in alarm.
"You told him?"
"Of course I told him Jack. He was planning on flying back the minute I told him the news but I managed to get him to at least wait until tomorrow so you can sleep off the alcohol and he can have some time to calm down. You're welcome."
He threw his head back, cringing his face, making you believe that he was gonna start crying again. "He's gonna kill me."
"Well I highly doubt that sweetheart but I'll be there just in case, to make sure the both of you stay calm, alright?"
He groaned in acceptance and you shook your head smiling at his childlike behavior.
- - - -
Using the spare key Aaron gifted to you a few months back, you helped Jack into his house and led him into his room. Flopping onto his bed and passing out almost immediately, you sighed before straightening him out and taking off his shoes, then covering him up with a blanket and turning out his light.
You knew he was fine to be in the house by himself, but still you stayed, taking minimal space on the massive sectional couch and covering yourself with a throw blanket, noticing how it smelt faintly of Aaron. It didn't take long for the sleep to find you.
- - - -
You woke up with a jolt as the sound of the front door closing echoed in the quiet house, sitting up and catching Aaron's eye. He seemed surprised to see you as he walked over to the dining room table and set his keys and briefcase down.
"Sorry I woke you. I didn't know you spent the night," he spoke softly, loosening his tie.
"Yeah, I didn't want to leave him here alone in the state he was in. He must've had a lot to drink."
A sigh escaped his lips while running a hand over his face, his expression looking tired and overworked. You could only imagine the stress he went through being a single father and Unit Chief as well as the toll it took on his mind and body. Getting up, you folded the throw blanket neatly and walked over into the kitchen, deciding to make the both of you a pot of coffee.
"I don't know why he's so out of control lately. Last week the school told me he's been skipping classes and receiving detention on a daily basis."
You figured Jack was still sound asleep considering that it was only 7 in the morning so there was no chance he'd hear the two of you talking.
"He's not out of control Aaron. He's just being a teenager. A teenager that lost his mother and barely sees his father, he's bound to act out a little."
You prepared the coffee, knowing exactly where everything was, having done these motions numerous times before. Some of your best memories with Aaron were ones where the two of you shared a pot in the late night and talked about anything and everything, just enjoying each others presence. You pushed away the momentary thought and grabbed two mugs from the cabinet.
"I just wish I knew what to do," he sighed. "He's getting more and more distant from me and I feel helpless about it."
You turned to face him, settling you hand on his arm, grabbing his attention. "Just be there for him. And tell him that. He'll come around eventually. He just needs to work through the emotions he's feeling."
He didn't answer but continued holding your gaze, a flicker of something behind his eyes that made you subconsciously hold your breath. "Thank you Y/N. For staying." His voice was soft- tentative almost. You watched his eyes glance down at your lips momentarily, the air now thick with tension. You stood there frozen as he took a small step forward, bringing his body closer to yours and his head tilting down to compensate the height difference.
"Aaron.." you whispered, his name almost spoken as a warning, worried that if he crossed whatever boundary there had been, he'd regret it and that would be the end of your friendship.
"Am I reading this wrong?" he asked, his eyes searching yours for an answer. He didn't lean in any further though. Didn't make a move to kiss you but his close presence was plenty. You could smell the cologne he would wear every once in a while, making your head dizzy.
"I just don't want you to regret this later on," you admitted to him, fearing he's end up agreeing with you. Instead, to your surprise, he reached a hand out to hold your cheek in his hand, making your eyes flutter shut briefly.
"The only regret I have is not doing this sooner." He leaned in, capturing your lips in his which you were more than happy to reciprocate. The kiss was everything you had dreamt it be. He was gentle, loving almost, in the way his arm came around your waist and slowly pulled you in. There was no rush, it was just you and him in the quiet house, everything else forgotten about, including the teenager who had unknowingly left his room to walk right into the living room, seeing everything.
"It's about time," he interrupted, making you practically jump away from Aaron.
"Jack." Your response was breathless, Aaron succeeding in taking it away seconds before. "I wasn't expecting you to be up so early."
You turned to step away from Aaron, which he allowed, but still kept his hand resting on your waist, a small knowing smirk on his face.
"Just because you were right about this, doesn't mean you're off the hook," Aaron said, making Jack roll his eyes lightheartedly. You spun to Aaron with a look of shock.
"Have you two been conspiring about me?" You were surprised of course, but also flattered that Jack felt so comfortable with you to talk with his father about his romantic feelings towards you.
Aaron shrugged his shoulders in admission. "Maybe just a little bit," he said, the tiniest of a blush creeping up his neck. "I just wasn't expecting for it to happen this morning, especially after all the chaos."
"Which I'm totally sorry for, Y/N. Thanks for coming to get me," Jack added. You walked over and brought the boy in for a tight hug that he pretended to not enjoy but eventually gave up and hugged you back. "I'm just glad you're safe and hopefully learned a valuable lesson," you spoke, pulling him back and giving him a once over. "Also, how are you up at 7 in the morning? If I had as much to drink as you looked like you did, I'd be dead till at least noon."
He chuckled and ran a nervous hand through his hair, something you noticed Aaron also did on occasion. "This wasn't my first time, Y/N. I've been drunker."
You gasped and looked over at Aaron who could only shake his head in disapproval but ultimately already knowing about it.
You turned back to Jack. "Well this time, it won't be just your father in charge of punishment. I'm gonna have some say in it as well. I know Spencer has an upcoming lecture on the Theory of Relativity this week. I think it'd be very informational for you."
The horrid expression on his face was exactly what you were looking for. "What?! No! Please, not uncle Spence's lectures. I'll do community service, babysitting, anything but that," he pleaded to his father, who threw his hands up in surrender but didn't lose the amused smile.
"I think it's a great idea. Consider that the beginning of the punishment as well. Now go get showered and dressed, you're gonna come with me to run some errands."
Groaning in disapproval, he did as he said and walked off down the hall to his room. You felt the warmth of Aaron come up behind you and pull you in, resting his head on your shoulder, arms around your stomach. "Good idea on the punishment," he praised, kissing your cheek.
You chuckled while moving to face him, a look of jest in your eyes. "Oh, you're not in the clear either, mister. I think I deserve a proper date after the secret scheming you and Jack have been up to."
The gaze of tenderness and affection glimmered in his eyes gave you butterflies and the ultimate need to pull him in for another kiss. You honestly felt like you could kiss the man forever.
When you both pulled away, he spoke. "How about tonight? I'll pick you up from your place around 6? You could wear that dress you've been talking about wanting to wear."
A big smile appeared on your face at his words, excited for the evening. You stayed just a little longer, sharing a cup of coffee with Aaron, giving some drunk advice to Jack before you all parted your separate ways. Knowing you'd see the both of them so soon, filled your heart with joy and the smiled never faded the whole drive home.
1K notes · View notes
muniimyg · 18 days ago
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♡ 01: baby, i'm a dog
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series m.list // taglist
note: welcome to part 1 !!! this fic is def a diff vibe ,, kinda chill and jus sad LOL … tbh if i hate it i’ll jus edit it as a one shot cos #yolo #idc but also…. i fear this jk is a vibe
//
the cabin's front door slams shut behind jungkook.
his laughter spills into the cold air as he jogs to his car, tossing the keys to taehyung mid-stride. 
the hoseok and nam joon had roped him into a last-minute supply run—apparently, they underestimated just how much beer and snacks a group this size could burn through in one night. the crunch of snow under his boots and the slap of wind against his face brought a sharp clarity, a brief reprieve from the weight he'd felt the entire drive up here. 
he works nonstop all year… he only gets a few days of vacation. yet, this is how he spends his precious leisure days.
a part of him is still trying to figure out why he even came.
"think fast, shithead!" taehyung called, tossing the keys back. 
jungkook catches them effortlessly, smirking as he spins them around his finger.
as he opens his mouth to make a comeback, the sound of tires crunching over ice makes his chest go tight. instantly, he recognizes that it’s yoongi’s girlfriend’s car—but something about the way it’s driven pulls him further into himself.
jungkook is a car guy. 
he’s the car guy and knowing cars means knowing the people behind the wheel.
the way they park, the way they brake, even the rhythm of their turns.
and this car?
it parks too carefully, too smoothly.
it’s muscle memory that makes him stand straighter, his heart stumbling over itself. because he knows exactly whose hands are gripping the wheel before he even sees your face.
taking a few steps back, he watches as the suv rolls into the driveway, something heavy settling in his chest.
the sound of the car door opening snaps him out of his daze.
and it all suddenly feels like a fever dream. 
with the snow falling slowly and the way his heart skips a beat—you step out and completely stop his world.
you’re bundled in a cream puffer jacket and your cheeks flushed from the cold…
and you smile at him.
like, really smile at him. 
and jungkook thinks to himself; 
fuck.
you’re still so pretty. 
so fucking pretty. 
then, his mind blanks. 
he doesn’t know how to move, doesn’t even know how to breathe. all he can do is stare.
“jungkook!”
before he can even respond, you’re walking toward him, arms open.
he freezes when you hug him.
it’s not long—just enough to share a little warmth—but it’s enough to knock the air clean out of his lungs.
three years.
it’s been three years since he’s seen you, and now you’re here, wrapping him in a moment that feels too easy for all the time that’s passed.
is... is this easy for you?
because he can't breathe right now.
“i convinced her to come last minute,” yoongi’s girlfriend, mei, says. she’s practically bouncing with excitement. “the weather grounded her flight, and i told her it’d be way better to spend a few days with us than to sit around waiting.”
you pull back from jungkook and smile up at him like it’s nothing.
like he hasn’t been caught in the shockwave of your presence.
like you aren't the love of his life.
“figured it’d be fun,” you say lightly, brushing a strand of hair from your face. you glance around and squeal at the sight of your old friendgroup. “plus, i missed you guys.”
the others swarm in, laughing and throwing their arms around you, saying how long it’s been. jungkook hangs back, struggling to keep up with the reality in front of him. this wasn’t how he thought this trip was going to go.
as jin and yoongi haul your bags toward the cabin, you turn back to jungkook. your shoulder bumps against his as you tilt your head.
“is it okay that i’m here?”
he blinks at you.
“why wouldn’t it be?”
your shrug and look around. “nam joon’s your friend. this is his family cabin… i’m just your—“
“it’s fine,” he interrupts you.
silence.
then, you break it with a question and your signature soft tone.
“did i surprise you?”
jungkook nods stiffly, words caught in his throat.
"good."
... is all you say before you’re gone, following the others into the cabin, leaving him standing in the cold.
it takes a second, but his feet move on their own, trailing after you without a second thought. like a dog, he thinks, tail wagging behind its owner.
his hands clench into fists at his sides as he walks, the cold biting at his skin through his jacket.
you're here.
you're actually here.
they have invited you over and over again to friendgroup trips and you've only attended a handful of times. take note that those specific times were the ones where jungkook had rsvp'd no.
so this...
this?
this is completely beyond him.
you... in the flesh feels like some cruel cosmic joke to him. the kind of joke where the punchline cuts deep and leaves a scar.
three years.
three fucking years of trying not to think about you, of convincing himself he’d moved on.
three years of pretending he didn’t still see you in every corner of his life. he told himself he'd be ready for this moment if it ever came—that he'd have the right words, the right attitude, anything but the mess of disbelief and guilt twisting in his chest right now.
but here you are, running into his arms like none of it matters. like the years apart haven’t clawed at him the way they clearly didn’t claw at you.
he knows he shouldn’t be surprised.
you always were good at carrying things with grace, even when he was busy breaking them—breaking you.
a part of him feels bitter. he wishes you had a mean bone in your body. perhaps, he'd feel better... but you don't and all he's can think about is how good you smell.
“what the fuck," jungkook mutters under his breath, dragging a hand down his face as he steps into the cabin.
the warmth inside doesn’t reach him.
not really.
his heart is still somewhere out there in the cold, stuck in that driveway where you looked at him like nothing’s changed.
like he’s still someone worth smiling at.
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as you get settled, jungkook and taehyung excuse themselves again and leave for their little grocery run.
when they come back, an hour later—the plastic grocery bags cutting into his fingers as he kicks the snow off his boots.
laughter drifts from the kitchen, light and easy, mingling with the clatter of pots and pans. the scent of something savory hangs in the air, and for a moment, he lets it lull him, the warmth easing the tension in his shoulders.
“finally,” yoongi groans, swooping in to grab some bags from jungkook. “we thought you guys got lost or something.”
“tae couldn’t decide between doritos and cheetos,” jungkook mutters, rolling his eyes as he shrugs off his coat. “turns out we needed both.”
“damn right we did,” taehyung calls from behind him, slamming the door shut with his foot.
jungkook lets their banter fade into the background, his eyes instinctively drawn toward the kitchen. 
you’re there. 
standing near the counter, sleeves rolled up as you stir something in a pot. your hair’s pulled back, a few loose strands framing your face. you’re laughing at something yoongi’s girlfriend says, your hands moving gracefully as you gesture, completely at ease.
the view of you is so clear, yet so vivid in his memory.
it makes his heart ache.
it’s like you’ve always been here, laughing, stirring pots, and looking so effortlessly beautiful it makes his chest ache.
like he’s coming home to you again. 
“earth to jungkook?” jimin snaps his fingers in front of his face, smirking when jungkook blinks, caught. “you good?”
“yeah.” the word comes out too sharp, and he clears his throat, shrugging past jimin. “just gonna change.”
he doesn’t wait for a response and heads upstairs. the weight in his chest grows heavier with every step, a knot tightening in his stomach. when he reaches his room and pushes the door open, he freezes.
his bags aren’t where he left them.
instead, a collection of white baggage are stacked neatly in the corner. irritation flares, but it’s quickly doused by confusion—and a sinking realization.
“jungkook?” your voice calls softly from behind him, and he turns to see you at the top of the stairs, slightly out of breath.
you’re holding onto the banister, your other hand fiddling with the hem of your sweater. the soft fabric brushes your fingers as you glance at him, your expression tentative.
“the girls—um—mei, bria, and the others—they thought it’d be better if we moved your stuff,” you say, stepping closer. your voice is calm, and measured, but there’s a nervous energy in the way your eyes dart toward his. “i told them it wasn’t necessary, but they figured it’d be easier if... well, you know.”
jungkook leans against the doorframe, crossing his arms over his chest. 
“so you’re gonna take my room?”
“it was our room for three years.”
“it’s been three years.”
“that’s true,” you hesitate, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “they put your stuff in jimin’s room. but i was just coming up to say, i can totally switch and room with joon’s girlfriend and make joon and jimin room together. i mean, it’d be a good chance to bond—”
“take the room.” his voice cuts through your rambling, low and firm.
your eyes widen slightly. 
“are you sure? i really don’t mind—”
“yeah,” he says, shrugging. “the only other option would be to share it with me… so…”
you pause, a laugh bubbling out before you can stop it. 
“that’d be crazy, right?”
something flickers across his face, too quick for you to catch. then, he straightens, his expression calm but his words heavy. 
“would it be though?”
the question hangs in the air, your laughter fading as his gaze lingers on you. his tone is light, almost teasing, but there’s something beneath it—something you can’t quite name.
you look away, brushing your hand over the doorframe as if needing something to ground you. 
“thanks, jungkook,” you say softly, the words carrying a warmth that feels too intimate. “i appreciate it.”
but before you turn, your hand reaches out, ruffling his hair in that way you used to when you thought he was being ridiculous. 
his breath catches, and he doesn’t move, doesn’t even blink as your fingertips graze his scalp.
then you’re gone, your footsteps fading as you head back downstairs.
jungkook exhales, his head tipping back against the doorframe as he stares at the ceiling. “fuck,” he mutters under his breath, the weight in his chest now impossibly heavier.
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by the time jungkook come down the stairs, the sound of laughter and chatter filling the space he follows behind you, catching the way the group immediately perks up. all eyes turning toward you both, and jin yells out, "look who finally decided to join the party!"
taehyung grins, his voice too cheerful for someone who clearly has something up his sleeve. 
“you two are late to the conversation, so you’re being voluntold to go back to town and grab some oil. we forgot to buy oil.”
jungkook freezes mid-step, his brows furrowing. 
“the fuck? i just got back. are you serious?”
you turn and see jungkook’s frustration bubbling up already as he turns to bicker with the guys, his voice rising in playful annoyance. “hyung, you couldn't just... check the damn list? are you fucking serious? i don’t want to go back—”
taehyung laughs, “we were too busy enjoying ourselves. you had fun with me! remember? we got both—”
“fuck that,” jungkook huffs. “i’m not going back—”
“you have to—”
“no, i don’t.”
“jungkook, you’re the youngest too—”
“why does that fucking matter?”
the group chuckles, but jungkook’s not laughing.
you watch jungkook’s face twist with irritation, the way his jaw tightens with every word that’s said. he’s always been like this—quick to snap when he feels cornered. it’s like he can’t stand being told what to do. 
he can’t. 
god, he really hates being pushed around.
you’ve always known that about him. yet, a part of you feels bad for him. 
“no. fuck that.” his voice is sharp, a little louder than it needs to be. “i’m not going back—”
the others try to reason with him even more, but his deflection is clear. 
it’s always the same with him, especially when he feels like he's being challenged. you can’t help but shake your head a little, a sigh almost escaping your lips as you glance at the group, waiting for the inevitable back-and-forth.
he’s the youngest, of course. always the youngest. always expected to just follow along, to do things because it’s “his turn” or whatever bullshit they’re using this time. 
you feel your own resolve settle, the urge to take control bubbling up before you can stop it. without even thinking, you walk over to taehyung, reach over, and grab the the car keys from his hand. 
you do it quickly, not even glancing at anyone else, just deciding in that moment that you’ve had enough of the back-and-forth.
“oil. anything else?” you ask, your tone light, almost too casual, as if this is no big deal.
you hear the group chuckle, but you're not listening to them. 
you’re watching jungkook now, his surprise registering only for a second before the annoyance flickers back into his eyes. 
he doesn’t have a choice now.
he hates this.
jungkook rolls his eyes, but it's too late—he knows it’s happening now. he snatches the keys back from your hand with a heavy sigh. he doesn’t look at you, but the slight dip in his shoulders gives him away. 
he’s still annoyed, but it doesn’t matter.
not if it’s about you. 
suddenly, he’s putting his boots on and slams the door. then, the sound of his car engine starting fills the silence. everyone turns to you in disbelief. 
“huh," you tilt your head. "i guess he's driving.”
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the car ride is silent, the engine purring smoothly beneath you.
jungkook’s car is new (to you, at least) and he drives like he’s trying to put as much distance between himself and the group as possible.
his knuckles are tight around the wheel, and every so often, his eyes flicker to you, then back to the road. you can feel the tension building up again, but neither of you says anything.
the store comes up quick, and you both slip inside. jungkook grabs the oil without a word, and as you stand by the aisle, you notice the carton of oat milk in his hand—your favourite brand too. 
you blink. 
“they didn’t ask for oat milk.”
he doesn’t look at you as he sets the carton into the basket, but there’s a quiet, almost hesitant shift in his posture.
“yeah. i know.”
you want to say something, anything, but you swallow the words. 
it’s just oat milk. 
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back in the car, you both buckle up in silence, and jungkook starts the engine with a soft grumble. the snow outside is heavier now, falling in thick, swirling sheets, the road barely visible.
the car stalls.
jungkook curses under his breath, his hands working over the wheel like he’s already analyzing what’s wrong. you watch him, knowing he’s not going to admit it, but it’s obvious.
“looks like we’re stuck for a bit,” he mutters. “better wait for the snow to calm down.”
you lean back in your seat, the quiet pressing in. there’s nowhere to go but forward now, and it’s strange, this calm in the middle of nowhere with him beside you, neither of you saying much.
the snow pounds against the windshield. jungkook shifts in his seat, tapping his fingers against the wheel as he watches the storm.
as jungkook stares at the snow pounds against the windshield, you stare at him.
you wait for him to say something. 
anything. 
but jungkook doesn’t meet your eyes.
his gaze is fixed on the road, his hands tight on the steering wheel. you can feel the distance between you two—the years, the hurt, the things that never got said. the things you did say… 
“so,” you start, your voice soft, the words almost hesitant. “how are you?”
jungkook scoffs.
“don’t.”
“don’t what?” you ask. “it’s been a while. i only really see what you’re up to via social media. you opened your own shop, right? i’m so proud of you. i know how long you’ve wanted to do that.”
jungkook nods. 
“yeah…” his response is immediate, but detached. “yeah, i mean… it was a lot easier when i got the right clientelle. so yeah, still doing that. luxury car mechanic bullshit. it’s... all right. not much to update you about.” his tone is nonchalant, almost like he doesn’t care, but you know it’s a front. it’s always been easier for him to hide behind that mask of indifference. 
“i’m sure there’s something—”
“i fix up cars people can’t even pronounce the names of. not a lot of excitement there. just... polishing up things people break, and making money for it.”
“okay,” you nod, your fingers tracing the edge of your seat. “jungkook, it’s me. don’t underplay this with me.”
he shrugs. 
for the first time in three years; you feel it again.
you feel this… sense of anger? annoyance?
hurt. 
jungkook is well known in the city. 
he's the go-to mechanic for luxury cars—bentleys, ferraris, lambos—if you've got money and a car that needs fixing, you go to him… and while we’re here; let’s brag about it. 
jungkook is not just any mechanic; he's the top of the game. he’s the most trusted in the industry, and somehow, he's built a reputation that makes even the richest clients feel like they’re getting something special.
most of them don't know it, but jungkook is lucky—unbelievably lucky. 
he didn’t come from money, didn’t grow up with connections or a silver spoon in his mouth. hell, he's still the kind of guy who wears sweat pants and a hoodie to work… but he's got an uncanny knack for fixing cars, his hands working like magic around every engine and every screw. it's a skill that came naturally to him, no effort needed—he was born with it. 
and that, somehow, has carried him through life.
the thing is, jungkook knows he's a loser. 
a lovable one, sure, but a loser nonetheless. 
he might be great with cars, but he's not the type to flaunt his success. his garage is both chaotic and high-end, a mix of organized chaos and state-of-the-art equipment, the kind of place that looks like it’s one bad day away from falling apart, but in reality, it's the most trusted name in the city.
he's rough around the edges, but that's part of his charm. he's got the grit to keep going when things get tough, but he stumbles through life in a way that makes everyone around him laugh—except when it comes to cars.
then, he's all business.
the fact that he's self-made, that he’s built everything from the ground up, doesn’t even fully sink in for him. he never asks for anything. the success just... happened, like it was meant to.
in the same sense, he’s a scumbag.
he’s gotten into trouble before, and he’s made his share of mistakes. but somehow, with the luck he’s got, he always lands on his feet. and that’s why, despite being a mess in every other part of his life, jungkook is the guy you call when your sports car breaks down in the middle of nowhere.
in fact, he’s the guy to be with in the middle of a snowy road. 
yet, with all these thoughts… you figure not to push it any further.
the silence stretches again, but this time it’s not quite as awkward. it’s still heavy, though—thick with the things that were never said. and you can feel it, the weight of all that unsaid stuff, but something else creeps in too. a quiet yearning, a reminder of the closeness you once had.
“how’s work for you?”
you clear your throat and chirp up.
“it’s good. great, actually. dior signed me to be their permanent event planner. i got to work with ysl and chanel last year so that was cool… lots of travelling… i don’t know. it’s been… fun. i think i’ve done a lot since...” 
“that’s good,” jungkook breathes. “i’m happy for you.” 
“really?”
“really.”
you let out a relieved breath.
“you know, i always refer my clients to your shop. truth be told, i found out about your shop through them before you even posted on social media.”
he flicks a glance at you, but it’s fleeting. 
“why?” he scoffs, but there’s no real anger behind it, just frustration. “you shouldn’t have…”
you wince slightly, but it’s not a judgment. you get it. you always have. the way he pushes people away, like he’s afraid of being too close to anyone, like caring might break him.
“we were in it together,” you reply, your voice quiet but warm. “life. our careers… everything. just because it didn’t work out between us doesn’t mean i was going to leave it as it was. i couldn’t help it. i thought of you whenever my clients complained about their cars. i thought of you whenever your favourite model drove past me. i thought of you, jungkook. how could i not? we spent three years together… so, don’t do that please. don’t act like the past three years haven’t been good to you… because as much as i could, i tried to send you some good. there was good.”
“okay,” he huffs out a breath, his shoulders tense. he’s quiet for a beat too long, and just when you think he might shut down, he mutters under his breath, his voice barely audible. “i appreciate it. all of it.”
“you’re welcome,” you smile. 
then, you turn and watch the snow falling heavier now, the world outside becoming more and more a blur. 
“you know,” you say, your voice almost teasing, trying to ease the weight of the moment, “your mom calls me on my birthday every year.”
his eyes flick to you again, almost imperceptibly, but it’s there. a flash of something in his eyes. a crack in the cool mask he’s built up. 
“sorry,” he apologizes. “i… shit, ___. you know, you’re her favourite.”
“don’t be,” you smile, though there’s a hint of sadness in it. “she’s my favourite too.”
then, he’s quiet again, but this time, there’s a softening to his expression, the edge of defensiveness slipping away. 
you let the silence settle again, the two of you wrapped in the quiet of the car and the storm outside. but this time, it feels different. not easy, not perfect. but it feels like maybe—just maybe—this is the first real conversation you’ve had in years.
and that’s enough for now.
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the cabin feels smaller when you get back, and the weight of jungkook’s presence only makes it tighter. the group’s immediately apologizing, teasing him about the oil run, their words sharp but light. 
“we totally forgot, man,” taehyung says, looking guilty. “guess you guys are our personal delivery service.”
jungkook doesn’t respond, his face already scrunching into an exaggerated grimace as he heads straight to the kitchen to help. you’re unsure if it’s from irritation or just sheer exhaustion.
maybe both, you think as you follow him. 
but the moment passes quickly, and you’re both swept back into the warmth of the group’s energy.
it’s dinner time soon after, and the room is buzzing. the conversation is loud, comfortable, with everyone laughing and sharing stories. jungkook and you sit across from each other, the space between you both thick and quiet. your presence seems to be the only thing that pulls him from his usual nonchalance—every time you speak, even the smallest comment, he cracks a smile, almost like he can’t help it.
yoongi catches it first, raising an eyebrow at jungkook. 
“what’s up with you, kid? you only smile when ___ talks. what? the rest of us aren’t funny enough for you?” his voice is teasing but his gaze lingers, as if looking for something more.
jungkook rolls his eyes, brushing it off with a half-hearted scoff. 
mei, sitting next to yoongi, shakes her head. she nudges you and you laugh it off. then, you lift your face and meet jungkook’s eyes. he offers you a short-lived smile. 
you take it. 
the jokes keep coming, but the way jungkook’s eyes flick to you each time you speak doesn’t go unnoticed. 
it’s subtle, the way his lips curve just a little, how his eyes soften just a fraction whenever you make a joke or offer your thoughts. but it’s enough. the others catch it, too, exchanging glances behind their drinks, a quiet realization settling between them.
after dinner, everyone migrates to the living room, pulling chairs and sofas closer to the fire. taehyung sets up the drinks, jin and hobi are already messing with the fire, adding logs with unnecessary dramatic flair, and namjoon is flipping through a deck of cards.
“we should play charades,” jimin suggests, his voice light as he pours more wine into his glass.
“charades? yeah, we could use some entertainment,” jin agrees, his gaze drifting between the group. “but i’m not going easy on you guys.”
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you end up on the same team as jungkook.
when it’s your turn to act out a word, you both fall into an easy rhythm. your gestures are sharp and exaggerated, and jungkook picks up on your cues instantly, his movements smooth and fluid. there’s an unspoken understanding between the two of you, the way your eyes meet for half a second before you both act out the next part of the clue. 
honestly, it’s like no time has passed since you last did this, and everyone else watches with mild surprise, the chemistry between you two almost palpable.
nam joon and taehyung share an amused glance, their eyes widening slightly, while jin snorts quietly. 
“okay, okay, we get it. you two are too good at this,” jimin says, shaking his head with a laugh.
“they’re like a team built for charades,” namjoon mutters, and yoongi, always perceptive, smirks.
“it’s like they can read each other’s minds,” he says, narrowing his eyes at you both. “almost makes me uncomfortable.”
you can feel the weight of their glances, the way they subtly watch every interaction, waiting for something to shift. and when the game finally wraps up, everyone is drunk, laughter louder and voices more relaxed.
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conversation moves from silly jokes to more serious topics, the kind that happens when the alcohol hits just right. somehow, everyone feels like they’re safe enough to let their guard down.
hoseok mentions work—how it’s been a mess lately, how nothing seems to be going right, and the conversation shifts into the stress of adulthood, of managing expectations and responsibilities.
“sometimes it feels like i’m drowning in it,” hoseok admits, rubbing his temples. “i mean, we’re doing okay, but god, it’s like every time i take a breath, there’s another problem.”
“sounds about right,” taehyung agrees, sipping his drink. “adulting sucks.”
the conversation flows around you, but then someone cracks a joke, and you reply with your usual snark. jungkook chuckles, and it’s a real, honest laugh, something that sounds familiar, something that feels like the version of him you used to know.
bria, who’s been quiet for most of the night, turns her gaze to jungkook, her eyes flicking between him and you with a raised brow. it’s obvious she’s drunk, so jungkook mentally prepares for the worst. 
“jungkook?”
“what do you want?” he sighs. “you’re drunk so choose your words carefully, bria. last time we talked while you were drunk like this, i made you cry for an hour.”
bria rolls her eyes at jungkook. 
“guess it’s my turn then,” she inhales deeply. “my turn to make you cry.”
jungkook gulps, but he tries his best to mask his fear. 
he knows exactly who she’s gonna target. 
“yah, do you think you’re slick or something?” bria asks. “why do you always laugh at ___'s jokes but no one else’s? you look at her and practically salivate. are you a dog? do you like her or something?” 
the group goes quiet. 
it’s then everyone realizes that it’s bria’s first cabin trip. even yoongi, who’s usually too aloof for moments like this, pauses, his gaze sharp as it flicks between you and jungkook. there’s a tension, thick enough to make your chest tighten, and you feel the eyes of the group on you.
it’s like the breath has been knocked out of the room. bria’s words hang between you and jungkook, heavy and unwelcome.
for a second, no one says anything.
you can feel the heat in your cheeks, the way everything seems to slow down. 
your mind races. 
“we’re exes.”
bria’s voice cuts through the silence again, softer this time. “oh, shit… fuck, right. yeah. i remember now… i guess it never clicked because i’ve only known you for a few months…”
“yeah,” jimin pulls bria close. he gestures towards the direction of their room. she shakes her head, refusing his obvious cue. “babe, let’s get you to bed—”
“no, wait… just w-wait. you and ___? but you two... are literally perfect for each other. what happened?” bria blurts, her tone genuine and almost searching.
you catch the way jungkook’s body tenses up.
from across the group, you chase for his eyes. they meet for the first time all night and you swear—there’s a flicker of something there. 
something soft and promising. 
something almost like love, but a lot like loss. 
as quickly as you see it, it fades away. so, you offer him a soft smile. then, shake your head slightly, the movement almost imperceptible. it’s a signal.
don’t answer.
but he doesn’t look away.
and then, as if the silence is unbearable, jungkook speaks, his voice low but steady, almost like it’s been waiting to come out for too long.
“i fucked up,” jungkook admits. “i fucked up like everyone said i would.”
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sam-out-of-energy · 2 months ago
Text
I'm back writing more fic for kefs mecha jazz AU but as texaid has taken over me as of currrent thats what im writin! Just some silly guys and some silly tings, vortex being a weird character yanno :D i went for a bit of a spooky vibe but lmk what ya'll think
Tw for gore i guess? Its not that detailed, but just in case
-------
First Aid- er, Felix, didn't even bother to ask how he'd gotten here. So much had happened since that faithful day he'd been assigned to clean the mecha- er- to clean Vortex.
Thats what this thing liked to call itself apparently. Felix had taken into habit to ignore the text on screens flashing in his face, but when he'd done that the thing had started speaking in his head instead.
So they communicated through screens.
"Dance with me First Aid" it asked, over and over and over again.
When they were deployed, Felix did his darndest to avoid touching the controls. And he didn't have to try too hard as this mecha would move and control itself just fine, slicing and dicing enemies left to right with it's blades.
Felix was a silent observer to the mechas insane violence, but something about it kept him watching. Maybe it was the numbness he already felt towards corpses, but his morbid curiosity peaked whenever he watched Vortex through Vortex's eyes.
Vortex would tease Felix to its hearts content (did it even have a heart? Something equivalent to that anyway), asking him if he was "enjoying the show", wiggling the controls in front of Felix like holding a bone up to a dog.
Felix knew better than to fall for tricks. He knew that every other pilot who had come before him had perished way earlier just by merely pressing one button. He was not about to face the same fate.
Not...until today.
He hadn't had time to think of another solution.
An enemy had caught them unarmed and for the first time ever, knocked Vortex down. No, not even knocked, slammed Vortex down. Hard enough for Felix to feel it.
Sytems fried, a loud buzzing in the back of his head and now, Felix staring up at an alien being, holding a sword over his- Vortex's- their head.
Felix had called for his mecha to wake, but when there wasn't a single stirr in Vortex's body, he'd been forced to grab the controls himself, catching the enemy by suprise and stabbing Vortex's blade through its chest.
The mecha rose at First Aids command. Felix felt his face lift to a grin, something stirring within himself he'd not felt before.
"Haha! Yes!" He squealed almost unintentionally before lifting the blade and pointing it up at the remaining enemies.
"Let's dance!!"
-
Felix sat at the controls. He'd driven the other all the way back to base before he'd shut down the power and just...sat for a while. He'd maybe felt a bit too connected to the mecha. The blood and gore in Vortex's hands had felt so real...too real for Felix's comfort.
He'd sat for long enough before realizing that Vortex stirred. He heard the buzz of systems coming online, the growl of an engine.
"Vortex?" He mumbled, catching himself out of his own daze of thoughts.
Then, the head shook, twisting violently enough to send Felix, unstrapped, falling and tumbling out of his seat.
He sat up quickly. He felt eyes watching him, coldness falling upon the cockpit and then...something dripped on him.
Felix looked up, before looking back to the maw of the beast (the entrance hatch). He saw blood, dripping and soon cascading down from under panels and cracks.
He felt his gut stirr as he quickly rose to his feet, stumbling when he saw blood cover the floor.
"What the fuck-"
He quickly became keenly aware of the space he was now trapped in. The dangerously sharp blades of the fans stirring on the walls, ones he'd picked plenty of fingers out of. The sharp edges of the panels on the roof, somehow able to catch guts, flesh and viscera hanging off the edges.
The floor of the cockpit, now seemingly flooding with blood, staining Felix's suit.
"I'm...sorry? Vortex. I'm sorry." He found himself suddenly speaking. Perhaps it was fright that had forced him to stand still, not sure if the visceral bits of skin and body parts he saw on the walls were real or not.
What the hell?! This thing itself had been begging him to use the controls! Now it was..punishing him for it?
Panic settled in Felix's mind without him even thinking too hard. He had to run, he had to escape.
And that he..tried. Bright red screens watched First Aid back further and further from the entrance, pressing against the wall of the cockpit. No way he could get out the right way, he'd be crushed before he could get through one hatch.
Felix suddenly felt a sharp pain. He twisted and jumped back from the wall, looking down to see what looked like some sort of hook that had sprung out and stabbed into his thigh. (A gap in between his armour).
He let out a painsoaked grunt, pressing a palm over the bleeding spot (He wasnt sure if it was his own blood or not).
A thought came to him. The only other route of escape. Felix limped to the control panel and almost found himself gagging at a pair of hands, torn from the wrists, hanging off of it, rigor mortis the only thing keeping them gripping to the edge of the panel. Everything stank of blood and rust.
He pressed the emergency exit button and turned when he saw a hatch open at the back.
Upon approaching, Felix found that it was just a...chute. An opening at the back of the head that slid down and then opened at the bottom to reveal a fall that was...god knows how long. Vortex was tall.
Felix bit the bullet, grabbing onto the small nooks and cracks inside the chute before starting to climb.
He'd managed to descend about halfway before realizing what kind of a situation he'd just put himself in. Like a prey animal running into a corner, driving itself into the worst possible situation out of sheer panic to escape. The predator had only needed to watch and wait.
Felix let out a stressed "No!" When he saw the hatch below slam shut. The slam of a hatch above made him lose his grip and fall down.
-
It was pitch black, the only illumination inside the escape chute being the small red LEDs lining its walls.
Felix's heart beat louder than the entire mecha. He felt his pulse rush, cold sweat coming down his back.
"Vortex, please"
He called out.
Ch-THUNK!
A hatch slammed shut above him.
Felix's eyes widened at the imminent danger approaching.
Ch-THUNK!
"Vortex" he choked up. He didn't want to die like this. God help the poor sap who would have to dig his crushed and dismantled corpse out of the mechas escape chute.
Ch-THUNK!
Ch-THUNK!
CH-THUNK!
"Vortex!!" He screamed one last time.
It was silent. Felix found himself screaming for a lot longer than he thought.
He
He wasn't dead?
His eyes opened. He was still in darkness, pressed back as down as he could be, against the emergency chute. One last hatch closed barely above his head, upon trying to lift himself, he'd bumped his helmet into it.
Felix then found that he was falling in the blink of an eye as the chute opened again. He couldn't muster out anymore screams, landing on something before he had time to process that he'd fallen in the first place.
A hand. A giant mechanical hand, slowly lifting and bringing him up to a terrifyingly familiar face and then to a dearly familiar scaffolding.
Felix took no hesitation to jump off the hand and land on the scaffolding, stumbling and turning to look back at the giant mecha infront of him.
He panted, falling to his knees when he caught solid ground, watching the bright red glow of the mechas visor.
He turned down to feel his body, his hands trembling from the afterburn of adrenaline. He took off his helmet to feel the cool air brushing over all his senses.
He was alive. His thigh was hurting, but he was alive.
Felix heard a thunk, lifting his head to see that the visor had dimmed. Inside, a bright red glow of a tv screen.
"Did you enjoy it"
it asked, the words read out by a voice inside Felix's head for him. Then the text changed and so did the voices tone, from a mechanical one to sounding more....amused.
"See you tomorrow, First Aid"
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lulujeno · 4 months ago
Text
crush culture — lee jeno ᡣ𐭩
summary : liking jeno was a mistake. kissing him didn't make it any better.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
warnings : mentions of alcohol/drinking, kissing, cusswords, angst!! (this does not portray how the idols are irl, all the things here are written to match the song crush culture by conan gray!!)
wc : 6.3k
a/n : reader uses she/her pronouns !! jerk!jeno and bestfriend!mark :D thank u for 100+ followers ~~ cant believe i managed to pull out more than 5k words out of my ass >< my finals are currently happening so that's why i've been ia for soooo long :( i promise when i'm done i'll be clearing out both my drafts and requests ^^
Seeing your best friend, Belle, flirt with Jeno on your couch hit harder than you ever expected. The way they leaned into each other, laughter spilling from their lips like a sweet melody, made your stomach churn in a way that felt foreign and unwelcome. You had no right to feel this way, not when you knew about her crush on him. You had even agreed to be her wingman tonight, setting up this moment so she could finally have her chance. But somehow, along the way, you fell for him too, your heart weaving itself into a tapestry of unspoken feelings and bitter regret.
You should feel happy for her, after all her efforts to catch his attention, but the tight knot in your chest made it impossible to be anything but miserable. “It’s fine. Be happy. It’s your birthday, after all,” you whispered under your breath, trying to convince yourself. The words felt heavy, lacking the enthusiasm they were meant to carry. You exhaled a shaky breath before heading to the kitchen, desperate to escape the sight of them together.
The kitchen was warm, filled with the faint scent of alcohol and fruity punch hanging in the air like an unwelcoming fog. Mark stood by the counter, effortlessly mixing drinks with an ease that told you he’d done this a hundred times before. He glanced up as you entered, and a flicker of concern passed over his face when he caught sight of your downcast expression. He flicked his eyes toward the living room, and you knew he had noticed. Most of your friends knew about your crush on Jeno. It wasn’t something you talked about much, but the way your eyes lingered on him said enough.
“You okay?” Mark asked, his voice low, but the concern was clear, filling the space between you like a fragile glass.
You could only shrug, unsure of how to explain the whirlpool of emotions churning within your chest. It felt too complicated to articulate.
Without a word, he whipped up a drink, something colourful and sweet, and handed it to you. The condensation from the glass cooled your palm, but it did little to soothe the fire raging inside. The drink looked vibrant, but you could already tell it was just a disguise for the hollowness you felt.
“She’s kind of a bitch for doing that in front of you,” Mark muttered, glancing back at the couch, his fingers absentmindedly wiping down the counter. His words hung in the air like a lifebuoy tossed your way, and for a moment, it felt like they were offering you a chance to vent, to express all the things you were holding back. But you shook your head, pushing the thoughts down.
“Not really,” you sighed, taking a sip of the drink. The sweetness coated your tongue, but it tasted like nothing, a mere distraction. “I’m the bitch here. Liking the same guy as my best friend, after she tells me she likes him, that kind of thing breaks girl code.”
Mark furrowed his eyebrows, his confusion evident. “Girl code? Really?” He scoffed softly, shaking his head. “Come on, Belle falls for every guy who looks her way. Everyone knows that. Besides, you actually have a better shot, Jeno knows you, trusts you. You should go for it.”
You nearly choked on your drink, laughter bubbling up despite your mood. “Yeah, and get a reputation for stealing my friends’ crushes? No thanks, Mark. I’ll pass.” You handed him the empty glass, watching as he refilled it, his movements swift and practiced. The glint of the alcohol under the dim kitchen lights reflected how your emotions felt; messy and swirling, a whirlpool threatening to pull you under.
Mark sighed, exasperated. “It’s your party. Don’t let them get in your head. Go have some fun.” He handed you the new drink with a smile, but before you could take another sip, he added, “And don’t drink too much. You can’t handle it, and we both know it.”
But after two glasses, fun was the last thing you felt. The sight of Jeno and Belle still played in your mind, a vivid loop that made the alcohol churn uncomfortably in your stomach. You tried to find Belle in the crowded room, but she was nowhere to be seen. After asking around and realising Jeno wasn’t there either, the pit in your stomach grew deeper. You knew what that probably meant.
You found yourself wandering back to the kitchen, your mind foggy but determined to drown out the ache with another drink. Mark raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised to see you again. When you asked for yet another glass, he sighed deeply, a mixture of concern and frustration in his expression.
“This is your last one,” he warned, handing you the drink reluctantly. “You can’t handle much. I don’t want to have to carry you out of your own party.”
But Mark’s warning felt like a distant echo in your ears. By the time you were begging for a fourth drink, all caution had slipped away, and you couldn’t care less about the consequences. The music in the living room was thumping, laughter echoing like a cruel reminder of your current situation, and all you could feel was the weight of everything you couldn’t have — Jeno, your peace, the ability to not care.
“I already told you, no more drinks. You’re cut off,” Mark said, frustration clear in his voice. “I’ll get you some water instead.”
As he turned to open the fridge, you took your chance. The cold metal of a beer can brushed against your fingertips as you snatched it from the counter. You were so focused on your mission to drown out the pain that you didn’t notice Mark turning back toward you.
“y/n,” he snapped, his tone stern, “let go of the can. You’re going to regret this.”
You raised the can to your lips, but Mark was quicker. His hand reached out to grab it from you, and in the struggle, the can slipped from your grasp. The beer splashed everywhere — over your shirt, dripping down your arms, and pooling on the floor. The cold liquid seeped through your clothes, clinging to your skin, making you gasp at the sudden chill. Mark groaned, grabbing a napkin from the counter as you stood there, drenched, with a look of defiance still written across your face.
Undeterred, you tried to tilt the can toward your mouth, desperate to drink whatever was left inside, despite the mess. “Come on, y/n, you’re making this harder than it needs to be,” Mark sighed, exasperation laced in his tone as he managed to pry the can away for good this time.
The alcohol-soaked shirt clung to your body, the sticky sensation uncomfortable, but you were too far gone to care. The frustration bubbling inside wasn’t going to be soothed by just a drink anymore. You were angry, angry at Belle, at Jeno, at the fact that you had let yourself feel anything at all.
Before you could make another move, a strong hand wrapped around your wrist, prying you away from the counter. You froze, looking up into the familiar dark eyes you’d been avoiding all night — Jeno.
The world felt like it stopped as Jeno glanced from you to Mark, his brows furrowed in mild concern. “Help me out here, Jen. She’s had too much already, and she won’t listen to me,” Mark said, his voice weary but relieved that someone else could take over.
Jeno’s gaze softened as he looked down at your soaked shirt, a mixture of amusement and concern crossing his face. He let out a small sigh, his grip gentle but firm as he took the can from your hand and replaced it with a bottle of water. “You’re done with the drinks for tonight, okay?” he said softly, his voice holding the same care you’d heard earlier.
Before you could protest, Jeno wrapped his arm around you, guiding you out of the kitchen, away from the noise and the eyes of your curious friends. The walk to your room was a blur, but the warmth of his hand on your waist kept you grounded, even as the alcohol swirled in your system.
The sight of Belle sobbing into someone’s shoulder as you passed through the hallway barely registered in your hazy mind. You were too focused on the warmth of Jeno’s presence beside you, the way his touch lingered longer than necessary, as if he was anchoring you.
Once in your room, Jeno gently guided you to sit on the edge of your bed, his touch careful as if he was afraid you might fall over. His eyes roamed over your beer-soaked clothes, a soft chuckle escaping him. “You’re a mess,” he teased, though his voice held no judgment. If anything, it was laced with concern, the kind of worry that felt warm and comforting instead of scolding.
You glanced down at yourself, wincing as you finally took in the state of your shirt. The beer stains were obvious now, dark patches clinging to the fabric and sticking to your skin in an uncomfortable way. You grimaced, the sticky sensation making you feel even more self-conscious. The alcohol had dulled the sharpness of your embarrassment, but not entirely. A faint blush crept up your cheeks as you mumbled, “I should change…”
You attempted to push yourself off the bed, but your limbs were heavy, sluggish from the alcohol coursing through your system. Your balance wavered, and you nearly stumbled forward before Jeno’s hand gently pressed on your shoulder, keeping you steady.
Without saying a word, he crossed the room to your closet, rummaging through the clothes until he found one of your oversized t-shirts. He walked back to you with that same quiet focus, kneeling down to your level, holding the clean shirt in his hands. His gaze met yours for a moment, and something in his expression made your heart skip a beat.
“Here,” Jeno said softly, his voice just above a whisper. “Let me help.”
Your breath caught in your throat as his fingers reached for the hem of your beer-stained shirt. He moved slowly, giving you plenty of time to object, to stop him. But you didn’t. You couldn’t. The closeness of him, the way his eyes held nothing but tenderness. It was like the rest of the world had disappeared, leaving just the two of you in this charged, intimate bubble.
Jeno’s hands were careful as he lifted the fabric, peeling it away from your sticky skin with a precision that made your pulse quicken. The cool air hit you, contrasting the warmth of his touch. Every time his fingers brushed your arms, it sent shivers through you. It wasn’t overtly intimate, but the care he took in making sure you were comfortable made the moment feel far more meaningful than it should have.
Once your shirt was off, he handed you the fresh one, his eyes deliberately focused anywhere but your body, giving you the privacy to finish. You quickly pulled the oversized shirt over your head, feeling the soft cotton fabric glide down. Your cheeks burned, not from the alcohol, but from the way Jeno’s thoughtfulness had disarmed you, leaving your heart racing in its wake.
When you were finally settled in your clean shirt, Jeno took a step back, his hands awkwardly fumbling at his sides, unsure of what to do next. “Better?” he asked, his voice quiet but sincere.
You nodded, not trusting your voice. The warmth pooling in your chest wasn’t just from the remnants of alcohol, but from the way Jeno had cared for you, so gentle and attentive. The kindness in his actions made your emotions swirl even more intensely.
For a moment, neither of you spoke, the air between you heavy with something unspoken. The room felt smaller with Jeno in it, the atmosphere charged with a new kind of tension. It wasn’t uncomfortable though. If anything, it felt safe. Like he was there to make sure you were okay, to take care of you, in a way that made your heart feel lighter despite the whirlwind of the night.
Jeno’s eyes flicked from the bed to you, a soft concern still lacing his gaze. “You should get some rest. It’s been a long night.”
You climbed under the covers, feeling the exhaustion settling into your bones now that the noise of the party was long behind you. As you laid down, Jeno lingered by your side for a moment, his hand briefly brushing your shoulder before he moved to sit at your desk. His presence filled the room, grounding you in a way you hadn’t expected.
“Jeno?” your voice came out as a soft murmur, barely loud enough to reach him, but he turned to you right away.
“Yeah?”
You hesitated for a moment before whispering, “Thanks… for everything.”
A small smile pulled at the corner of his lips, the soft light in your room making his features look even kinder than usual. “Get some sleep, y/n. I’ll be here if you need anything.”
You closed your eyes for a brief second, trying to process what was happening. Jeno was in your room. The Jeno. The one who was always surrounded by friends, admired by so many. The same Jeno your best friend had been talking about for months, and the one you, slowly but surely, had found yourself falling for.
The alcohol still buzzed in your veins, loosening your inhibitions just enough to make you bolder than usual. This was your chance, maybe Mark had been right all along. Jeno was here, with you, taking care of you in ways that felt like more than just friendly concern. Maybe, just maybe, you weren’t imagining the way he stayed close tonight, the way his eyes lingered a little longer.
It was now or never.
The air in the room felt heavy, thick with unspoken words and lingering tension. Jeno sat at your desk, his steady gaze unreadable as you shifted under the covers, a mix of nervousness and warmth blooming in your chest. The alcohol had numbed your inhibitions, but the electricity between you both was impossible to ignore.
You pulled the blanket tighter around yourself, trying to ground yourself in the fabric, though it did little to help. “It’s cold,” you mumbled, barely audible, your voice betraying the hint of vulnerability you didn’t want to show. In truth, the room was a bit chilly, but more than anything, you longed for his presence next to you. The space between you felt far too wide, like an unspoken barrier you didn’t know how to cross without risking everything.
Jeno’s eyes flickered toward you, his hesitation lingering in the silence that stretched between you. After a beat, he stood up from the desk, his movements slow and deliberate, as if carefully weighing each step. Your breath hitched as he approached, and your heart pounded in your chest, anticipation curling in your stomach.
Wordlessly, Jeno slid under the covers beside you, his warmth instantly chasing away the cold. His scent, a comforting mix of cologne and something undeniably him, wrapped around you, making your head spin. Instinctively, you leaned into him, your head finding its place against his chest. His arm moved naturally around you, pulling you closer, and you melted into the embrace, feeling his heartbeat against your cheek.
With Jeno’s warmth cocooning you, the outside world felt like a distant dream. The party’s once-loud music had faded into a faint murmur, barely audible over the sound of his steady breathing. Every now and then, his breath grazed your hair, sending tiny shivers down your spine. You stayed perfectly still, afraid that even the slightest movement would break this fragile moment, this perfect stillness.
“Is it still cold?” Jeno’s voice was low, a gentle murmur that seemed to sink into your very bones.
A small smile tugged at your lips, and you pressed yourself closer to him, allowing the exhaustion of the night to wash over you. “Not anymore,” you whispered, your voice barely a breath. His arm tightened around you in response, as if silently saying that he wasn’t going anywhere. That, even just for tonight, you had him.
The soft light from the bedside lamp cast a warm glow over the room, its dim shadows creating a cozy, intimate space that felt removed from reality. The world beyond your bedroom door seemed to slow, leaving only the two of you in this quiet bubble, suspended in time. You found yourself wishing that you could capture this feeling forever, keep this warmth and peace bottled up in your heart.
Jeno’s hand rested on your waist, his fingers moving in slow, absentminded circles over the fabric of your shirt. His touch was so gentle, so careful, that it sent little sparks dancing across your skin. It wasn’t just the alcohol making you dizzy; it was the tenderness in every brush of his fingers, the way he held you like you were something delicate.
“You’re always running around, taking care of everyone,” he murmured softly, his words carrying a weight that tugged at your heart. “Who takes care of you, y/n?”
His question hung in the air, the raw sincerity in his voice cutting through you. A lump formed in your throat, and you blinked rapidly to keep the sudden tears at bay. You hadn’t expected him to say something like that. Who did take care of you? For as long as you could remember, you were the one who held everything together, the one who put everyone else’s needs before your own. But in this moment, with Jeno’s arms wrapped around you, it felt like someone was finally seeing past all of that—seeing you.
“I… I don’t know,” you whispered, your voice trembling as you admitted the truth aloud. “I guess I’m just used to it.”
Jeno shifted beside you, his body pressing closer, his breath now warm against your ear. “You deserve more than that,” he said softly, his voice low and earnest, each word landing like a promise. “You deserve someone who’ll take care of you, too.”
Tears pricked at your eyes, and you swallowed hard, trying to hold back the surge of emotions threatening to overwhelm you. His words felt too good, too perfect, and a part of you was afraid to believe them. Afraid to believe that someone like Jeno could really see you like that, could want to take care of you.
Still, in this moment, wrapped in his warmth, you allowed yourself to pretend — to imagine, if only for tonight, that this could be your reality. That Jeno could be yours.
His thumb traced another slow circle on your side, his touch so gentle it was almost hypnotic. “I don’t want you to forget tonight,” he whispered, his voice even quieter now, like he was sharing a secret meant just for you.
You turned in his arms, your breath catching in your throat as your eyes locked with his. There was something in his gaze, something soft and unspoken, that made your heart race. His face was inches from yours, his breath warm on your skin, and for a brief moment, time seemed to stop altogether.
You swallowed, the words escaping you before you could think twice. “What if I do?”
For a moment, Jeno’s expression darkened, his gaze flicking down to your lips before meeting your eyes again. Then, in a movement so gentle it felt like a dream, he leaned in, brushing his lips against yours in a soft, lingering kiss. The contact sent a shiver through you, your whole body reacting to the warmth of his touch.
“Then I’ll remind you,” he murmured against your lips, his voice barely above a whisper.
The night blurred into a series of quiet moments. Soft touches, shared whispers, and a closeness that felt too tender, too fragile to belong to the real world. You could have stayed in that moment forever, tangled in Jeno’s warmth, pretending that the world outside didn’t exist.
But, as always, reality had a way of creeping back in.
Jeno’s phone buzzed on the desk beside him, the soft vibrations shattering the stillness. He sighed, his arm loosening from around you as he reached for the phone, the glow of the screen illuminating his face. You watched as his brows furrowed, his expression tense as he scrolled through the dozens of missed calls and messages.
“Shit,” he muttered, sitting up, his warmth slipping away from you entirely.
The cold rushed in immediately, filling the space where Jeno had been, and your heart sank. You knew what was coming next.
“What’s wrong?” you asked, already knowing the answer but dreading hearing it aloud.
Jeno ran a hand through his hair, frustration evident in the set of his jaw. “The guys… They’ve been calling me nonstop. I told them I’d leave with them, they’re my only ride home.” His voice was tinged with regret, but beneath it, you could sense the guilt.
You forced a smile, trying to mask the disappointment that was tightening in your chest. “It’s fine,” you lied, propping yourself up on your elbow. “You should go.”
Jeno glanced down at his phone again, then back at you, his jaw tightening as he hesitated. “I don’t want to leave you alone,” he said quietly, his voice thick with the conflict swirling inside him.
You shook your head, the ache in your chest growing. “I’ll be okay,” you whispered, your words feeling hollow. “Really. Go.”
For a fleeting moment, you held onto the hope that Jeno might stay. The way he looked at you, his eyes searching your face with an intensity that made your heart race, felt like a promise unspoken. But then the phone buzzed again, shattering the delicate moment. You watched as his resolve shifted, the warmth in his gaze giving way to a distant sadness.
With a heavy sigh, he rose from the bed, the fabric of the moment tearing slightly as he slipped his phone into his pocket. The air around you felt colder, thick with unspoken words and lingering emotions, as if the very room held its breath. Just before he reached the door, he hesitated, turning back to you one last time. His eyes softened as they met yours, and he stepped back toward the bed, leaning down to press a tender kiss to your lips. It was soft and lingering, yet it carried the weight of finality.
“I’ll see you on Monday,” he whispered, his breath brushing against your skin, leaving a warmth that contrasted the chill that enveloped you after he left.
And then, he was gone.
The weekend stretched endlessly, an expanse of silence that felt like an aching void where his presence had been. No calls. No texts. Just the stark absence of his warmth and the echo of the night you had shared. With each passing hour, the memory of Jeno’s embrace faded, leaving you alone with your swirling thoughts and an unsettling sense of regret.
You spent the next two days trapped in a loop of memories, replaying every moment over and over. The way he looked at you with such intensity, the way he held you close, the sincerity in his voice when he told you that you deserved better. You ached to reach out to him, to check if he still remembered the fleeting magic of that night. But every time you reached for your phone, a wave of fear stopped you cold. The thought of his response, what he might say or, worse, what he might not say, paralyzed you.
By the time Monday rolled around, you had convinced yourself that maybe it was better this way. Pretending nothing had happened would be the safest path. After all, he would slip back into his life with friends, back to the way things were before, and you would have to bear the weight of your choices alone.
As you stepped through the school doors, you immediately felt the weight of stares bearing down on you. Whispers trailed you down the hall like a shadow, and you quickly pieced together the rumors that had spread like wildfire. Word had gotten out about you and Jeno, and Belle had undoubtedly heard every detail.
It wasn’t long before she found you. Standing by your locker, arms crossed and eyes narrowed, her glare twisted your stomach into knots.
“I can’t believe you, Y/N,” Belle hissed, her voice sharp and full of venom. “You promised me you’d be there for me. You said you’d help me with Jeno, and instead, you—” She cut herself off, her voice trembling with barely contained fury.
You swallowed hard, guilt and shame coiling tightly in your chest. “Belle, I—”
“No,” she interrupted, her eyes flashing with hurt. “Don’t. Don’t act like you didn’t know. Everyone’s talking about how you left the party together. You think I didn’t see the way he looks at you?”
Your heart plummeted, a heavy weight in your stomach. You longed to explain, to articulate that it hadn’t been what it looked like, that you hadn’t intended for any of it to happen. But deep down, you knew the truth: you had crossed a line, and no amount of explanation would erase the breach of trust.
“I didn’t mean for this to happen,” you whispered, your voice barely above a breath.
“It’s not fair. I was so close to having him, Y/N. I was right there, and then you had to ruin it for me.” Belle’s eyes glistened with unshed tears, but her expression hardened like ice. “You’re a liar. You promised to help,” she spat coldly, turning away from you. “You’re no better than the rest of them. Maybe you should’ve tried harder not to ruin everything.”
And just like that, she walked away, leaving you with the sharp sting of her betrayal echoing in the silence behind her.
You stood there, frozen, as the world around you faded into a blurry haze of whispers and judgmental stares. The hallway stretched out longer than usual, each step feeling like an uphill battle against the suffocating air thick with unspoken words. You could almost see the rumours swirling like storm clouds, brewing around you as classmates shot knowing glances. Some gleeful, others disdainful, while they whispered behind your back, oblivious to the truth.
You made it through the day by shrinking into yourself, avoiding everyone as if they were fragments of glass waiting to cut you. Each laugh from a group nearby felt like a mockery, reminding you of how the moments you shared with Jeno now felt like scattered shards, impossible to clean up without inflicting wounds on your heart. Every time you caught a glimpse of him in the halls, your chest tightened as his eyes flicked toward you for just a fleeting second before looking away, as if that one shared night had evaporated into thin air. Maybe it had for him.
The days following that night passed under a strange, silent agreement between you and Jeno. Neither of you acknowledged what had happened. No messages. No lingering glances. No awkward conversations. It was as if you had both silently decided that pretending it hadn’t meant anything was the easiest way to cope. But you couldn't shake the feeling that, to him, it truly hadn’t.
At school, Jeno slipped seamlessly back into the rhythm of his life, surrounded by his friends, laughter pouring from their mouths as if nothing had changed. He blended effortlessly into the crowd of popular kids, exuding an air of confidence that was painfully absent in you. Later, you overheard snippets of their conversations, casual, dismissive remarks. “She’s not worth it, man. You could do way better,” Haechan chuckled, as if your very existence was a punchline. Jeno merely shrugged, his indifference cutting deeper than any blade. “It was nothing.”
The words pierced through your carefully constructed defences, more painful than you could have anticipated. They shouldn’t have stung; after all, you had spent the entire weekend convincing yourself that you didn’t care, that it was just a fleeting moment. But those three words echoed in your mind, a relentless mantra: It was nothing.
Still, you played your part. Whenever you passed him in the halls or found yourself near his group during lunch, you donned a mask of indifference so convincingly that you almost started to believe it yourself. You laughed with your other friends, pretended to focus in class, and convinced yourself that forgetting was the best option. You were adept at pretending, had to be, but that night continued to linger, haunting you like a bittersweet melody you couldn't silence.
The only person who seemed to peel back your façade was Mark. You never spoke about that night directly, but he could read between the lines. He noticed the way your gaze avoided Jeno, how your laughter felt forced, and how your smile no longer reached your eyes.
One afternoon, when the weight of everything felt too heavy to bear, you found yourself gravitating toward Mark. He sat on the grass at the edge of the soccer field, scribbling furiously in his notebook. You dropped down beside him, the warmth of the sun contrasting with the cold ache in your chest. He looked up, brow raised, but he didn’t say anything right away, giving you space to breathe.
“I don’t know what I’m doing anymore,” you finally admitted, staring into the distance as the horizon blurred with your emotions.
Mark closed his notebook, shifting his full attention to you. “Want to talk about it?”
You shook your head, frustration bubbling inside you. “Not really. Just… everything’s a mess.”
He didn’t press you, but his unwavering gaze bore into you, his concern palpable. “You don’t have to pretend with me. I can tell you’re not okay.”
The tightness in your chest intensified at his words, and you forced a laugh that felt hollow. “It’s not a big deal. I barely even remember that night, anyway.”
Mark didn’t buy it. He never did. “You don’t have to lie to me. But if you don’t want to talk about it, that’s okay too.”
The silence stretched between you, filled with all the unsaid things that hung heavy in the air. You stared at the ground, fighting the emotions that threatened to spill over.
“Jeno didn’t say anything, did he?” you asked, the question slipping out before you could hold it back.
Mark sighed, leaning back on his hands. “He’s pretending it never happened, too. His friends… Well, they’re being assholes, like always. Told him he could do better. You know how they are.”
You nodded, the weight of disappointment sinking deeper into your bones. Of course they would say that. Of course Jeno would follow their lead. It was easier to dismiss the connection you had shared, to act like you hadn’t been wrapped up in each other, sharing warmth and vulnerability in a way that felt almost sacred.
Sensing your shift in mood, Mark nudged your shoulder lightly, offering a small smile. “Look, I’m not gonna pretend to understand what’s going on in Jeno’s head. But you deserve better than this, better than being some secret he feels like he has to hide.”
His words wrapped around you like a comforting blanket, yet they only amplified the ache in your heart. You wished it didn’t hurt so much, wished you could just move on like Jeno seemed to. But the truth was, that night had meant something to you. Even if you shouldn’t have felt that way, even if you tried to convince yourself otherwise, it did.
It wasn’t just the gossip or the whispers that hurt; it was the entire situation. The reality that you had gotten swept up in something so fleeting, yet so consuming. You felt like you were living on a stage, where every move was scrutinised, turned into something larger than life. Belle, Jeno, his friends; they were all part of that act, and now, so were you. You thought back to the party, to the fragile intimacy you had shared with Jeno, the way you had intertwined your lives for a moment. But the harsh reality was that it hadn’t been real. Not for him.
When you got home, you collapsed onto your bed, staring up at the ceiling, its familiar texture suddenly feeling foreign and oppressive. The quiet of your room suffocated you, amplifying the echoes of whispers and judgment that had followed you all day. It should have been a relief to escape the chaos, but instead, it was a stark reminder of how alone you felt. Gone were the masks and the laughter; all that remained was the haunting silence, thick with unspoken words and unresolved feelings.
Your phone buzzed, and for a fleeting moment, hope flickered inside you. Maybe it was Jeno, maybe he finally had something to say, something that could bridge the chasm that had formed between you two. But as you glanced down, the screen illuminated a message from Mark instead.
Mark: How you holding up?
You stared at the words, the glow of the screen casting a pale light over your uncertainty. Mark had always been the one to see beyond your carefully constructed façade, the only person who didn’t press for answers you weren’t ready to give. His concern was palpable even through the digital barrier, but the weight of your own feelings made it hard to respond.
You: I don’t know.
The reply felt painfully inadequate, a thin veil over the storm churning inside you. You tossed your phone aside, pulling your knees up to your chest, as if trying to protect your heart from the world outside. What did you even want at this point? Jeno wasn’t coming back to fix things, and Belle was probably rehearsing her next round of accusations. You felt caught in a strange, uncomfortable limbo, yearning to forget while being unable to erase the vivid memories of that night.
In the days that followed, you had tried to convince yourself the night with Jeno was nothing more than a fleeting mistake, a moment spurred by alcohol and the warmth of the moment. But now, as the realization washed over you, it became painfully clear: you had wanted it to mean something more. You craved the way he looked at you that night—not with the haze of drunken affection, but with something deeper, something that could fill the void you felt inside.
But he didn’t. He never would.
You remained motionless on your bed, eyes fixed on the ceiling, feeling the silence stretch around you like a shroud. Your phone buzzed again, probably Mark checking in, but you couldn’t muster the energy to respond. The weight of your decisions pressed heavily on your chest, reminding you of the loss that had settled in your heart.
You had lost your best friend, sacrificed your bond with Belle for something ephemeral, and now, you were left to pick up the pieces alone. And maybe that was what hurt the most. The realization that in the end, none of it had felt real. Not the intimate moments shared with Jeno, not the friendship you had thought you could count on with Belle. Everything felt built on a shaky foundation, fragile and destined to crumble.
As you lay there, you reached for your phone, hoping to drown out the noise in your head with music. You scrolled through your playlist, searching for anything that could take you away from this moment. And then it started, the familiar notes of Crush Culture by Conan Gray filled the room, wrapping around you like a bittersweet embrace.
With each lyric, you felt a rush of recognition that hit you like a truck. Crush culture makes me wanna spill my guts out. The words resonated deeply, echoing the tumult of emotions swirling inside you. It was as if Conan had taken the scattered pieces of your heart and crafted them into a song, pulling at the very strings of your soul.
The lines about fleeting moments, unreciprocated feelings, and the pain of wanting something that was never truly yours surged through you. You closed your eyes, allowing the music to wash over you, each note igniting memories of that night with Jeno. The way he held you, the laughter you shared, the promises whispered in the dark. But with each line, the weight of reality crashed down harder, reminding you of the distance that had grown between you since then.
Tears prickled at the corners of your eyes, the catharsis almost overwhelming as the song played on. You could feel every word burrowing into your heart, every melody capturing the longing you tried to hide. This wasn’t just about Jeno; it was about everything you had lost, everything you had poured into moments that turned out to be nothing but illusions.
And in that moment, you felt a fragile clarity. You might be lost now, but you wouldn’t stay that way forever. The lyrics continued to echo around you, each syllable a promise that you would find a way through the pain, that you could reclaim your voice, your heart, and maybe, just maybe, discover what it meant to feel whole again.
As the song faded into silence, you lay back against your pillows, allowing the tears to flow freely. It was time to face the truth, to embrace the chaos of your emotions, and to start piecing together a new beginning. And with that thought, you closed your eyes, a flicker of hope igniting within you. A hope that lingered long after the last notes faded away.
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motherofdogs1010 · 6 days ago
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Guys Not My Age I (Peter Parker x Reader)
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Summary: They say sometimes older men are better when it comes to relationships, but Y/N finds that isn't always the case when she wakes up in bed with a certain younger man after breaking up with a certain Winter Soldier
Warning: 18+ only, age gap relationship, older woman/younger man!, everyone is over 18!, fratboy!Peter Parker, cheater!Bucky, computergenius!reader, hacker!reader, toxicex!Bucky, consensual sex, semi public sex, heavy smut, drinking, swearing, unprotected sex, eventual pregnancy
A/N: Re-write of 'Need to Know'
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Series Masterlist
Banner @vase-of-lilies Dividers @firefly-graphics
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Her head throbbed and pulsated as she begun to wake up.
The overall shittyness of a hangover taking over her body as the loud, blarming phone alarm rung hard in her ears as she groaned. She buried her face into the pillow as she felt movement coming from next to her, immediate confusion filling her mind as she heard, "Shit, sorry. Forgot that I had the stupid alarm on."
She recognized that voice even with it being laced with grogginess and sleep as she snapped open her eyes, wincing from the daylight that peeked over the curtains.
She was met with an unfamiliar room that looked like the standard college dorm: books and notes in an slight mess on the desk with a laptop hanging by it, posters on the walls and the distinct sound of boys laughing and footsteps coming down the halls.
Turning her head, her eyes widened as the memories of the previous night filled her as she resisted to gulp as she was met with the shirtless image of Peter fiddling with his phone.
The memories of the night before felt like a tidal wave washing over her as she remembered having gone out to drinks with the Avengers team to celebrate their latest takedown of yet another Hydra compound (she handled hacking into the tightly encrypted computers) and she knew Tony had partly also wanted to take her out to get her back out onto the dating scene.
She watched as Peter scratched his head for a moment, seemingly beginning to wake back up as she came to the realization of her naked body under the blanket and the realization of her memories being confirmed as she saw a glimpse of the scratches on Peter's back.
Sitting up as she tugged up the blanket, she wondered how the hell she was suppose to do a walk of shame out of her as Peter said, "anyway, want to get breakfast?"
"What?"
Peter tilted his head a little, "want to get breakfast? I thought since we were getting along so well..."
The ache between her legs from last night a reminder of how well they got along.
It wasn't like she didn't enjoy it or anything, but it was the realization that she had slept with someone nearly ten years younger than her.
"Peter, I'm-"
"I know. You're 30 and I'm 21, I don't care." Peter shrugged and she couldn't help but get distracted by his strong physique. "I told you I don't want a girl my age, I've wanted you."
It made her heart clench at statement.
"All I'm asking for is you take a chance", Peter pleaded, bringing their lips into a soft kiss.
It made her melt.
"Fine. One chance."
Peter grinned.
"But I refuse to be seen by a bunch of frat boys so you better make sure they clear out of here. I'm too old to be dealing with that."
"You're barely 30, no even that old."
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Y/N downed the shot of tequila that Tony had passed her, laughing as she felt the burn in her throat and hearing Tony cheering. Say what you want about Tony, but he knew how to party as he had taken them to some nightclub that he bought for shits and giggles.
"Enjoying the burn", Tony teased, Y/N laughed.
"It's the tequila sweats that I hate", she said back.
Standing up from the little VIP booth Tony had rented for them all, Y/N scoped out her surroundings. She saw Nat dragging a bashful Steve to the dance floor, Steve was awkwardly moving around before he finally got the hang of it and began dancing with Nat. Y/N laughed as she watched Steve get down on the dance floor, she spotted Vision (who had his human form on) with Wanda near the bar as Wanda was getting another drink.
"Are you having fun?"
Y/N looked in the direction to see Peter standing there with a grin, Y/N smiled back at him.
"I wondered where you were", Y/N responded, "I always forget your 21."
"My baby face makes it that way", Peter joked.
Y/N had to admit, Peter Parker was a very attractive man, especially right now with his hair gelled back, a white button down that had the sleeves rolled up and dark slacks. Tony said Peter had changed a lot since high school, having managed to join a fraternity in his first year of college; she had only met Peter in the last year so hearing that he was anything but confident before was a little shocking since he walked around like a little mini Tony sometimes.
Peter moved a little closer to her as Tony announced that he was going to join Wanda at the bar.
Sam and Clint were missing, both men having taken some time off to go visit their families, especially for Sam since he wanted to be there for one of his nephew's birthdays.
Although, the person that everyone seemed to ignore that wasn't there was a certain Winter Soldier, but it seemed everyone was on the rocks with the man at the moment. But cheating and immediately bringing around the girl you cheated with will do that, won't it?
Of course that was the second main reason behind Tony bringing nearly all of them out to the club was because of her confiding in Tony about being ready to get back out there. She felt no issue confiding in Tony considering how close of friends they were, she was coming out in his upcoming wedding to Pepper in just a few months time.
"It's a cute baby face", Y/N teased, Peter chuckled.
"I'm glad you're having fun", Peter said, "you deserve it."
Y/N smiled as she tugged up the neckline of her red mini dress, the fabric clinging to her large breasts and hips. It was an off the shoulder dress that she chose just for the occasion with long sleeves and paired with some red bottoms that Nat was letting her borrow.
Y/N watched as Peter looked a bit indecisive as if he was second guessing himself before he blurted out, "Would you like to dance?"
"Don't you think you should be dancing with someone your own age?" she teased before Peter snaked a toned arm around her waist.
"Age is just a number, right?" Peter answered with a wink. "When it comes to two consenting adults, of course."
She wouldn't be an idiot to say she hadn't noticed the younger man's eyes roaming her figure. But she never thought much of it considering she had been in a relationship with Bucky, but that bridge was burned a lot time ago.
She was here to have fun, dance a little, drink... there was no harm in just a dance, right?
"Alright, Spiderboy", Y/N said, "show me what you got."
~
Wanna know what it's like (like) Baby, show me what it's like (like) I don't really got no type (type) I just wanna fuck all night
The sound of Doja Cat singing could be heard even in the women's restroom, the door locked in a rush as Peter pressed her harder into said door. Their tongues dancing across one another as she could taste the alcohol on his tongue, Y/N moaned as Peter slotted his knee between her legs, pressing against her wet cunt and beginning to rock her hips against him.
But Peter pulled his knee away and she whimpered, breaking the kiss for a moment before she felt one of his hands trail under her dress, finding her thong.
"You're soaked", Peter teased, she shuddered as Peter ran a finger down her slit. "I bet I could slid right in."
As if that was his cue, Peter slid a finger into her, Y/N let her head fall into Peter's chest as he slowly began to pump his finger in her.
"Don't tease", she moaned as she brought his face down to hers.
What's your size? (Size) Add, subtract, divide ('vide) Daddy don't throw no curves (curves) Hold up, I'm goin' wide (wide) We could just start at ten (ten) Then we can go to five (five) I don't play with my pen (pen) I mean what I write
She connected their lips again as Peter slid another finger into, fingering her harder now as he began to rub her clit in tight circles. Y/N cried out at the sensations as she rocked her hips in time with Peter's movements.
Peter began to trail kisses down her neck as her eyes rolled back into her head, her mouth falling open as pants escaped her mouth.
"Fuck you're beautiful", Peter said as he quickened his fingers. "Come on, Y/N, cum on me."
Y/N felt like she was in the Twilight Zone right now, but fuck it, she was enjoying it with the way Peter was fingering her. She could feel that tight knot building in her as Peter's fingers reached an area in her that made her nearly tear up in pleasure, his fingers practically massaging it as she began to tug on his hair as her toes began to curl.
"P-Peter", she panted, "gonna...cum..."
She saw Peter grin in satisfaction as her orgasm hit her like a freight train. She felt breathless and fuzzy as Peter fingered her through it before she whimpered at the overstimulation, which Peter pulled his fingers out.
"Still think I should find someone my own age?" Peter teased, she narrowed her eyes as she panted.
Peter slid his fingers into his mouth and sucked on them.
"I always knew you'd taste sweet", Peter said as she reached for his belt buckle.
Peter brought a hand up, squishing her cheeks together and forcing her lips into a pout; he pressed a sloppy kiss to her lips as she successfully managed to get unzip Peter's slacks, slipping her hand inside to begin to tease the younger man in front of her.
"Now, you wanna be a tease?" Peter groaned as he began to move her to one of the many sinks in the bathroom.
I just can't help but be sexual (whoa) Tell me your schedule (yeah) I got a lotta new tricks for you, baby Just sayin' I'm flexible (I will) I do what I can to get you off (I will)
Peter had gotten her on the sink, legs spread and her thong stuffed in one of his pockets as he began to rock into her. Her eyes rolling into the back of her head as she felt Peter hike up her leg on him higher, sending him into deeper territory and brushing up against her G-spot as he began to rub her clit in time with his rocking.
"P-Peter", she slurred, eyes beginning to water from pleasure.
"Fuck, you're squeezing me so good", Peter whined as he gripped the sink below her.
His thrusts becoming rougher as he buried his face in the crook of her neck.
Might just fuck him with my makeup on (I will) Eat it like I need an apron on (yeah, ay) Eat it 'til I need to change my thong (yeah, ay) We could do it to your favorite song (yeah, ay)
Her makeup was ruined, she was sure of it from the amount of kissing, sweat and tears. Y/N shivered as Peter bite down on a part of her neck, making her clench around her even tighter and causing him to let out more groans of pleasure, his hips slapping into her even rougher.
The sound of skin slapping skin rung in bathroom, echoing off the walls as she brought Peter's face back to her own, smashing their lips together as she squealed when her second orgasm hit her, her legs shaking and back arching.
You're exciting, boy, come find me Your eyes told me, "Girl, come ride me" Fuck that feeling both us fighting Could he try me? (Yeah) mmm, most likely
She had pushed Peter onto one of the toilets in the bathroom, his dick red and leaking when she had straddled him before sinking down onto him. Y/N shivered as she felt Peter stretching her out again and she knew she was going to be feeling him the next day as she moaned and threw her head back at the delicious stretch his cock gave her cunt again.
Peter gripped her hips before grabbing her ass and smacking it, she pulled her face towards his, connecting their lips as she begun to rock her hips.
Oh, wait, you a fan of the magic? Poof, pussy like an Alakazam (yeah) I heard from a friend of a friend That that dick was a ten out of ten
She could someone knocking on the door, but she could care less right with Peter buried so deep inside her as his hands that gripped her hips so tightly began to help rock her.
Baby, I need to know, mmm
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~🕷️🕸️💻~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Sometimes Y/N wondered what Peter had been like before he went to Empire State and joined his fraternity, and in this moment as they sat across from one another at one of the on-campus cafes, she figured maybe this might have been it with how he fidgeted a little.
"Nervous?" she mused, "this was your idea."
"I can't be nervous on a date with a pretty girl?" Peter remarked and she chuckled.
"Not after last night." Peter grinned and ran a hand through his fluffy, chocolate brown hair. "Besides, this isn't a date. This is you trying to convince me why I should go on a date with you."
"Sorry, it's just... I've liked you for awhile, but I didn't say anything because-"
"Because of Bucky?"
Peter looked down sheepishly and Y/N reached over to grasp his hand.
"And then when you two broke up, I didn't think it would be right to tell you because of how everything went down."
"You're doing a lot better than he did", Y/N said. "I appreciate that you waited, Peter. That's really sweet of you."
Peter grinned a boyish grin that Y/N couldn't help, but replicate back at him.
~
She had agreed to a date with Peter.
In the back of her mind, she couldn't help but think of the thoughts that others might have with her being seen with Peter. She examined her face in the mirror, trying to see if she had any wrinkles, age-related blemishes and sighed.
"You look stressed." Slightly startled, Y/N turned around to find Nat standing the doorway of her room with a curious look on her face.
"Just a little."
"Where are you off to? Hot date tonight?" Nat asked with a grin.
"About that", Y/N trailed off, looking at her outfit.
A white, blue-floral printed dress that cinched at the waist and was off the shoulder adorned her body with her keeping her makeup clean and simple, and her face loose and away from her face.
"Who's the lucky person?"
"Peter."
Nat was silent for a moment as Y/N felt the pit of anxiety in her stomach at the thought of her friend's judgement before Nat said, "well damn, didn't think the kid had the balls to make a move."
"What?" Y/N asked as she went to grab a pair of platform sandals.
"Anyone would working sense could tell the kid was eyeing your ass all the time", Nat nonchalantly said with a shrug. "Don't tell you didn't notice?"
"I noticed", Y/N defended, slipping her feet into the shoes. "I just thought it was because he was young."
"I also take it that you were with him when you disappeared from the club?"
Y/N's eyes widened as she looked away before Nat let out a laugh.
"Damn, you have to tell me all the details when you get back", Nat teased. "But I'm glad you're getting back out there again."
"You don't think it's weird? With me being older than Peter?"
"If men in their sixties can date women young enough to be their daughters, why can't you go on a date with a younger guy?" Nat shrugged.
Y/N gave Nat a smile and sucked in a breath.
"So, how do I look?" Y/N asked, posing for a moment.
"Like Parker will most likely fuck the shit out of you."
"Perfect."
Peter texted her not too long after that he had arrived and in an air of her favorite perfume, she met him out in the living room of the compound.
A sense of satisfaction fell over her as she noticed Peter's eyes raking over her body as she took in his appearance. His hair slightly gelled away from his face, a white button down shirt and black slacks framed his body.
They were alone in the living room, a rare event since the space always had at least one person present but apparently not today.
"You look amazing", Peter complimented, stretching out his hand and grasping hers.
He gently pulled her towards him as his eyes hungrily stared into hers.
"Thank you", she said with a small smirk. "I thought you'd enjoy this. Never worn it before."
Lost in their own world, they never noticed a certain figure hanging around the corner, seething as he watched Peter met her lips in a soft kiss.
His metal hand clenching into a fist as he turned away, fuming at the sight before him.
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fuctacles · 6 months ago
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you guys are feral for silly wereshifter Steve AU and I love that
Some meatheads are calling Eddie names again. The dog that's been tailing him appears out of nowhere and makes eye contact with him as it struts over to the group and lifts his leg, pissing all over the fresh wax on their BMW with the determination and focus of a dog that hasn't been outside for the whole day.
"Hey, get your fucking dog off my car!" One of the guys jumps up, but the warning show of canines stops him from shooing the dog away himself.
Eddie shrugs, though he's restraining a smile.
"It's not mine."
Later the dog finds him again as it always does, and he makes amends.
"You are my dog though, right? My good doggie. Who's my good boy?" he asks, scratching the overjoyed dog all over its furry body.
At home, Steve asks Robin to call him a good boy when he shifts, to see if it feels as good. It doesn't. Well, it does, but not in the same way.
It comes to the point when dog Steve spends more time with Eddie than human Steve. To soak in the happiness and love Eddie shows him.
"Is Steve okay?" Eddie asks one day, petting the dog beside him while they take a break from band practice. The rest of Hellfire is hanging out in the garage, with Mike jumping on every opportunity to learn guitar from Jeff and the rest usually following.
"Yeah?" Dustin cocks his head. "Why wouldn't he be?"
"I don't know." Eddie shrugs. "Haven't seen him in a while and you're never mentioning him anymore."
Dustin looks at the dog.
"He's fine. You're overthinking it."
Eddie thinks that might be it, but...
"I know we're not friends-friends but I don't even see him in passing! Hell, Buckley is there to hang out, and he's not!"
Dustin throws his hands up in the air, annoyed with the questions.
"Don't ask me, man! Ask him yourself! And, to be honest," he crosses his arms, glaring at the dog, for some reason. "I don't understand what's going on with him either."
Eddie frowns, looks at the dog that huffs loudly, and looks away with a grunt. He pats its fluffy fur.
"How am I supposed to ask him if he's never here?" he sighs. "I don't want to just corner him at his place."
Dusting looks at him like he failed elementary two times, not high school.
"There's this thing called phones?"
"Oh. Right."
"Jesus it's like you'd die without me."
"Well..."
"Not what I meant!" Dustin goes pale instantly, mortified by his own words.
"I know, kid." Eddie pulls his head down in reassurance and leans into a side hug. "Don't worry."
-----
"He's not picking up," he tells the dog while biting at a hangnail. "Maybe he's at work?" He wonders out loud and goes to the magazine pile on the coffee table. The dog struts behind him. He rummages through the papers under its watchful eye until he finds the Family Video pamphlet. He runs back to the phone with it and dials the number on the back.
"Hi, I'm looking for Steve? Oh, hi Buckley. Do you know if he's home? Okay. Can you tell him to call me when he's free? No, I just wanted to ask him something. Thanks. Bye."
When he hangs up, he's alone in the room.
"Buddy?"
There's a bark from the front of the trailer.
"Sure, sorry!"
He runs up to open the door for the dog already waiting there. But before it leaves, it nuzzles up into his hand, the wet nose and hesitance to leave reassuring Eddie that he'll be back sooner or later. He smiles at the dog, giving him one last scratch between the ears.
"Such a good boy. See you later, buddy."
----
Steve calls him not even an hour later.
"Eddie?" He sounds out of breath.
"Steve, hi!" He's relieved to hear him and suddenly realizes he doesn't remember the last time they actually talked. "Has Buckley talked to you already?"
"No?"
"Dustin then?"
"No- ah, yeah! He's mentioned you wanted to talk."
He's a bit disappointed Steve hasn't thought to reach out himself but it's better than nothing.
"Yeah, I Haven't seen you in a while, man. What have you been up to?"
"Uh, you know, just... This and that. Doing a lot of... Running. Exercises. You know."
Eddie doesn't know, but he's willing to nod along to keep the conversation going.
"Yeah, totally, you've been busy. Do you want to hang out maybe? Movie night, or, or..." He tries to come up with anything they could do together. "I got a new strain of weed we could test?" He offers.
Steve laughs at that, genuine and relaxed and Eddie relaxes at the sound himself.
"Sure, why not? Is tonight alright? I have a day off anyway."
Eddie's not prepared mentally and neither is his room but he agrees immediately.
"Sure, come over anytime."
"Okay I'll take a shower and I'm off."
When they meet up, everything seems normal. For about fifteen minutes.
Steve jumps whenever Eddie touches him, and his face is red, making Eddie look at him worriedly and ask if he's alright.
But all Steve can think about is “good boy” and belly scratches. When his leg twitches when Eddie touches his shoulder, he jumps off the couch, mortified by his body's reactions.
"Do you have a dog?!" he almost yells, looking around in panic.
Eddie blinks at him.
"Uh, no?" But then he frowns. "I mean, there is a dog," he corrects, and his brows crease in worry. "Wait, are you allergic?"
"Yes!" Steve points his finger at him. "I gotta go, man, sorry, I'm itching all over," he spits out fast, walking backward toward the exit and almost running into a wall. "But it was great seeing you, uh, bye!"
The doors slam shut and Eddie's left alone and confused, the reality show host still yelling from the screen.
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heartfullofleeches · 5 months ago
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[Angst]
Childhood Best Friends with a small age gap- two or three years, nothing crazy- but it means everything as they age.
It was hard for them to make friends their age when you first met. They liked things that were too "childish" for their peers - things another child who lived not to far away adored. They'd seen each other on the way to school, but they didn't interact frequently due to their difference in grade.
Until that day-
"Whoa...Cool backpack. You like that show too?"
"Thanks... I'm thinking of getting a new one though... Do you want me to ask my parents if you can have it?"
"What?! It looks fine to me... Why are you getting rid of it?"
"My friends called me a baby... I won't be able to go back to class without everyone laughing at me unless I get a better one."
"That's silly!.... It's on right now... Wanna watch it with me?"
The two were inseparable from then on- School hindered the time they had to see each other each morning, but as soon as it let out - both ran to meet with their new best friend. The elder of the pair was often mocked and teased for their choice, but they could hardly care anymore. They had someone who'd stick by their side to the very end - childish fixations and all.
Years went on and they made new friends. It happens. More obstacles began piling up throughout - chipping away at the few hours they scarcely had to begin with. Studying, Hobbies, balancing days between hanging out with other friend groups and the person who once meant the world. They tried to make things works, but nothing went to plan-
"Is it alright if Y/n comes with us tonight?"
"Y/N? Aren't they're too young to see this movie? We shouldn't be responsible if they have night terrors or something.."
"They aren't that young... Are they?"
They never thought about it before. You were so close in age as kids it never hit them that as you grew that little gap drew a bridge between you - and it was easier to let you go than finding an alternative.
"Hey, Dude! Are we still on for this weekend? I can't believe they're making a reboot after all this time!.."
"Are my messages going through? You haven't responded in a while... I saw you outside school yesterday and yelled your name, but....."
"Did I do something wrong?"
"Hey."
"You're hanging out with them today? Did you forget about my birthday?...."
"You removed me off your list of friends...We're still friends, right?"
"Let me alone. I'm sick of being your babysitter. Go find friends your own age and stay away from mine."
And that was the end of things.
College cames around and their live became relatively tame. Their thoughts drifted to that childhood friend of theirs every now and again, but between school and partying with the new friends they had made - those memories faded to the back of their mind.
An acquaintance asks them to help show some new faces around the campus. One sticks out to them amongst the crowd. It's you. What do they say to you after all these years? You don't look sad to see them. Nor angry. Intact - you look..
Relieved.
Pulling them aside at the end of the tour, you free yourself from the burden that's weighted down on you since they left you.
"I'm sorry."
"It was never my intention to hold you back. Overtime I realized I was just that annoying kid who clung onto you because I thought you were my first and only friend...When you never felt that way about me. I'm sorry for taking that away from you. If our paths cross again, I promise I won't even look at you."
After being abandoned by your best friend- the person you looked up to most, you matured well beyond your years in hopes that would make you like them again. Overtime, you gave up that goal, but others could see how you've changed.
"Isn't that.... Y/n?.."
"Oh, man- It is! You guys were glued at the hip before we became teens."
"They're..kinda cute... Do you still have their number?"
All this time apart, a feeling long forgotten resurged inside them. The need to protect you. You didn't know these people like they did. You shouldn't be going to parties with them, getting to know and befriend them. They'll only hurt you - worse than they had. They never should have said goodbye to you- They should have allowed the feelings they were so scared to have, but had always been there develop and blossom naturally until you both were adults ready to move on to that stage in your friendship.
They know you best. No matter how much you grow as a person, you're still the same.
"That's a cute Keychain, Y/n!"
"Thanks! I've loved this show since I was a kid!"
They'll prove it to you.
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angelichannie · 3 days ago
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Hello again angelichannie~ i'm the one who requested for svt fallin in love and i so enjoyed it! 🥰
If I may request again... another fluff how you think ot13 would be like when they're jealous but they're not in a relationship yet w the reader?
I'm enjoying your writing sm, thank you! 😘
Seventeen being jealous but they aren’t dating you
genre:fluff
Seungcheol: he’d act like it didn’t affect him. He’d sit back, run his hands through his hair as he watches you laugh with your other guy friend. His sweet smile masking the flames burning inside of him.
Jeonghan: Always making everything a competition. “Who do you like more, him or me?”
Joshua: “Shua! That super hot guy just asked for my number!” You’d scream. His face would heat up immediately. “You didn’t give him it did you?” He’d say. “He’s not even hot! You can do so much better”
Junhui: he’d get so huffy about the little things. “Why did you go to the park with that guy? That’s OUR park”
Soonyoung: he’d do everything he possibly could to keep you entertained. He’s not trying to be rude, but he wouldn’t hesitate to butt in a conversation if he thought you were laughing a little too much.
Wonwoo: “can we get out of here?” He’d say, dragging you away from the social setting you were currently in. He’d blame it on being tired, but he knows it’s because that guy from the bar was getting too close to you. “Let’s just go back to mine”
Jihoon: he’d deny it soooooo much. “Of course I’m not jealous, why would i be? I’m just… looking out for you” his cheeks getting increasingly red as he spoke on.
Seokmin: oh he would sulk for sure. “No no I’m fine, just go hang out with that guy. You seem to find him funnier than me anyway..”
Mingyu: “no im not jealous… ok fine im jealous”
Minghao: he’d be hurt, but he wouldn’t want to show it, much like Seungcheol. But he’d also feel a sense of guilt. Why is he getting jealous, you’re not even his?
Seungkwan: POUTY BOO! He would watch you from a distance, laughing with another guy and pouting to himself, wishing it was him.
Hansol: he would try and hide it by acting a little colder toward you. He probably wouldn’t realise, and he wouldn’t mean any harm. He’d probably just think you weren’t interested :(
Chan: he’d definitely grumble about it. “Why don’t you go talk to that guy over there, you seemed to really like him”
A/N:
thank you for your request lovely! Sorry I’ve been missing in action, I hope you like it! <3
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gyubakeries · 1 month ago
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❆ 𝐠𝐲𝐮𝐛𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 : 𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥𝐬! ❆ | 𝐟𝐮𝐥𝐥 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐮 - 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 <𝟑
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❆ 𝑑𝑎𝑦 2: ice-skating | y.jh
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a/n: welcome to day 2!! big thanks to sousy for helping me brainstorm! hope you guys like this one <33
word count: 1.1k contents: jeonghan x gn!reader , established relationship , ice-skating , jeonghan is a little shit , reader cannot ice-skate , fluff , crack , christmas fun
"we are not going ice-skating," you shake your head firmly, and jeonghan lets out a whine.
"we went to the couple's cooking class last weekend even though i can't cook for shit!" jeonghan points out. "why can't we go ice-skating today?"
"because you're actually good at it!" you explain. "you're just gonna laugh at me when i fall on my ass."
"i won't let you fall, love," jeonghan smiles, his eyes carrying a glint of mischief. "no promises about the laughter though."
"yeah, my answer is still a no," you repeat stubbornly, crossing your arms.
"come on, y/n," jeonghan nearly begs. "at least try it! i'll hold you through it all and won't let you get hurt. you trust me, don't you?"
when jeonghan tilts his head that way, and uses that tone of his voice on you, it takes very little for your decision to change.
"fine. ice-skating it is."
upon arriving at the skating rink, your nerves act up. the pit of your stomach bubbles with anxiety, and jeonghan seems oblivious to it all, dragging you further into the rink with a content smile.
it's alright, you convince yourself. it won't be that bad. i'm doing this for jeonghan.
your boyfriend may be downright evil sometimes, but you know his love for you is real, which is why you whole-heartedly trust him to keep you safe on the rink.
"okay, i picked out your skates. tell me if they're too tight or loose okay?" jeonghan's voice snaps you out of your thoughts and you look down at the skates and gulp.
"y/n? if you don't wanna do it, we can just catch a movie or something," jeonghan offers, seeing how nervous you look.
"no!" you immediately reply, sitting down on a bench to pull the skates on. "i'm just a little tense, but it's alright! i promise."
"okay," jeonghan smiles, kissing your cheek as a token of comfort. "just let me know if you wanna leave anytime, yeah?"
you nod, and the both of you busy yourselves with tying on the skates.
yeah, this was gonna be one interesting day.
for all the fuss you made before getting on the ice, you felt surprisingly calm when you entered the rink.
up until you had to let go of the railing.
"jeonghan! i swear if you leave my hand-" you nearly shriek, not caring that there are so many other people on the rink.
"i told you i won't let you go!" jeonghan laughs. "now leave the railing. let's move around a bit."
you grip onto his hand tightly and follow his instructions on how to slowly move on the ice. it's difficult for you, as a first-timer. the skates are heavy, you're barely able to maintain your balance, and the slippery ice isn't helping either.
"y/n, darling, don't be scared," jeonghan assures you, skating over and standing right in front of you. he takes both your hands in his to steady you. "let's try moving slowly, yeah? you'll get the hang of it soon."
"easy for you to say," you huff. "you look like you skate better on ice than walk on normal land."
"you flatter me," jeonghan smiles bashfully, and you roll your eyes at his attempt to act shy.
jeonghan, true to his word, holds on to you as you start skating around the perimeter of the rink. as the minutes pass, you feel more and more confident to start moving on your own.
"i think i wanna try without holding you," you tell jeonghan after half an hour passes, and jeonghan slowly moves away from you, hands outstretched to catch you if you fell.
bravely, you take a few steps forward, thrilled at the fact that you haven't immediately crashed to the ground. you start taking bigger strides.
then you make a big mistake.
caught up in the joy of being able to maintain your balance, you abruptly turn around to face jeonghan, which is when you feel your foot slip, and soon, your ass is meeting the cold ice with a thud.
"shit," you groan, and then, you hear jeonghan bursting into laughter.
he's doubled over and clutching at his stomach at your predicament. there are tears pooling in his eyes as he continues laughing maniacally.
"han!" you call out, half-embarrassed and half-annoyed. "you promised you wouldn’t laugh!"
"that’s exactly what i didn't promise to you, babe," jeonghan wheezes, finally catching his breath. "i'm sorry love, i couldn't help it. you look so adorable right now."
"yeah, sure. a grown-ass person landing on their ass in the middle of a skating rink is adorable," you grumble. "now, are you going to help me up?"
"of course, baby," jeonghan snaps into action, zooming over to you and picking you up from the floor. you hold onto him with a vice-like grip until he gently pushes you over to the railing to take support.
"i'm gonna stay here for a while," you tell jeonghan, gripping onto the railing. "you should go skate for a while. you've just been babysitting me the whole time."
"and i enioyed every second of it," jeonghan winks. "especially the part when you fell."
"just wait till we're back on solid ground, jeonghan," you glare at him. "i'll take my revenge."
"i'll look forward to it," he chuckles, but then his eyes soften and expression turns serious. "you sure you'll be okay here?"
"i'll be fine, don't worry," you assure him. "now go skate; i want to see how good you are."
"sit back and enjoy the show," he smiles smugly, and then he's gliding across the ice while you stay by the railing trying to steady yourself. you watch in awe as jeonghan effortlessly skates all over the rink, yet his eyes are only trained on you.
and it works as a form of silent encouragement, because you muster the courage to push off from the railing and slowly skate over to jeonghan, managing to hold yourself upright and steady.
when you're within his arms reach, you let out a laugh, feeling proud of yourself. "oh my god. oh my god! i did it! did you see that? i didn't fall!" you exclaim, and jeonghan only watches you with fond eyes as you celebrate your little victory, spinning around the rink in circles.
(there's a small girl at the rink who sees jeonghan gaze at you with love in his eyes as you try to race him from one end of the rink to the other.
she can only hope that someone loves her this dearly when she grows up too.)
- fin.
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divider made by @bernardsbendystraws !
main taglist: @min-imum @sousydive @k1eev @livelaughloveseventeen @unlikelysublimekryptonite
@theidontknowmehn @baseball-dokyeom @t-102 @aaa-sia @cixrosie
series taglist in comments!
comment on this post to be tagged on the upcoming fics!
head to the series masterlist - here <3
head to the masterlist for more!
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riki-riks-chick · 7 months ago
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I have a really big hard thought, like imagine being at a party with your friends Heeseung and Jake while you see your ex-boyfriend kissing another girl, you start to feel bad and Heeseung and Jake get jealous and decide to treat you like you deserve it taking you to their place to make you scream their names and both of them overstimulating you at the point you cry for it. If you can write something like this would be the end of me
Also I would like to be 🌪 anon
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Life Of The Party ┃L.HS & S.JY
jake and heeseung x reader
yn focuses more on her ex than hs and jy so they give her something better to focus on.
cw: smut! fingering, pussy eating, dirty talk, jealousy (slight), crying, dacryphillia, swearing, threesome, kissing (mxm and fxm), neck kissing/marking, overstimulation, creampie, unprotected sex, doggy style, missionary, parties, getting over a breakup, nipple/tit sucking, clit play, pleasurable torture, i think that's it
wdct: 3.6k
ty for the request this is the longest one yet 😁
═════════════
Third Person POV~
Being single seems to have given you more freedom. Your boyfriend cheated on you, and then you kicked him out of your apartment. You'd be lying if you said breaking up with him wasn't painful. Two years down the drain because your boyfriend cheated with some random girl. 
But you've sort of moved on.. You spend more time with your friends.. They make you happy, but part of you wants another relationship.
Your two closest friends, Jake and Heeseung, invited you to come with them to a party tonight. So you got ready and they came to pick you up. You weren't exactly thrilled, but Heeseung and Jake practically forced you, so you had no choice.
The party itself wasn't bad.. Everyone was nice and you even met a new guy. His name was Sunghoon you think, but the music was loud so you weren't completely sure. Either way he was pretty cute. 
You had a few drinks already to loosen up and not worry so much. Now you were sitting on the patio where fewer people were around. Just to breathe for a moment. Heeseung stepped out, sitting in the chair beside yours. "The whole point of bringing you here was to get you laid.. How can that happen if you're avoiding everyone?"
You sighed, downing the rest of your drink before setting the cup down. "I'm not really interested in getting laid.." You mumble, the alcohol starting to get to you. Heeseung groaned. "You're so stubborn.. Sunghoon was trying so hard to get in your pants.."
"He's not my type.. As much of a pretty boy he is, I'm just not digging it.." You reply and Heeseung sighs. "Tough.. What about Jongseong? He seemed to be into you.." He asks as you groan. "Heeseung, please.. Jongseong is hot, but he just got out of a relationship and I refuse to be someone's rebound."
Heeseung is beyond frustrated. All he wants for you is to get back into the lifestyle you had before you even dated that asshole. One night stands were fun.. Parties were stellar. You were just a different person then. A person that Heeseung misses dearly.
"Fine. I'm done trying to get you a good fuck.. But at least come inside and hang out with me and Jake.." He pouted, and you smiled, getting up. "Okay.. Come on.."
You walked behind Heeseung, letting him pull you  into the living room where Jake was playing beer pong with Jongseong and Sunghoon.
You sat down, taking the drink Heeseung had got for you before he sat down next to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. 
You glanced around the room before your eyes landed on the pair sitting on the couch opposite the one you were sitting on.
You thought you saw wrong at first, but low and behold, it's your ex and the girl he cheated with. His tongue is down her throat and she's on his lap. The whole view makes your stomach turn in disgust. 
After that, your whole mood is off. Jake is the first to notice, and without even confirming that you saw your ex kissing on that girl, he knows it's because you saw him. 
He doesn't blame you.. He knows that you haven't seen him since the breakup, so it's probably not easy, especially when he's with someone and you're hardly getting back to being yourself.
You excuse yourself, heading to the bathroom, and Jake calls Heeseung into the kitchen. "What's up, Yun?" He questions as Jake sighs. "She's clearly not happy right now.. That asshole just had to show up and show off his new piece right in front of her." He explains as Heeseung nods. "You noticed too?.."
Jake nods. "I think we could do something for her.. Because I'm honestly tired of that asshole getting more attention than us when he broke her heart and we've always been here.." 
Heeseung agrees, seemingly deep in thought of how they could make you feel better. He then whispers an idea to which Jake nods in agreement. "Let's do it."
They then head to the bathroom, knocking on the door as you open it. They immediately walk in with you, closing the door behind them. 
"What are you guys doing?.." You ask, shocked as Heeseung sighs. "We wanna take you home." He says plainly and you raise an eyebrow. "Why?.." You question as Jake steps in. "We noticed how you started frowning when you saw him.. I wanna know what face you'd make if it was just us.." He said, his tone slightly seductive. 
Heeseung chuckled, cupping your chin as he turned your head towards him. "We want what's best for you.. Just give us a chance to show you what you're missing, hm?.."
His tone is very persuasive, something that you definitely can't deny. And as much as this whole situation sounds wrong, you think it'll feel right. So you nod. "Okay.."
The two immediately beam at your response. Before you can register, they're pulling you out of the bathroom, not even bothering to say goodbye to their friends before dragging you outside and to the car.
Heeseung is driving, and Jake hops into the back seat beside you. You're quiet for the first half of the ride until Heeseung speaks. "Are you sure you wanna do this?.." He questions as you shrug. "I don't know.. Maybe I'm feeling adventurous right now.." You reply dully.
Heeseung pulls over, turning to face you in the backseat. "Y/n... I need you to be serious.. We're not going through with anything if you're not sure." 
You shrug yet again. "I don't know.. I've never had a threesome before.. I guess it's something to check off my bucket list." Jake chuckles at your reply, earning a glare from Heeseung.
"Are you absolutely sure you wanna do it?.. We're not gonna be gentle.." You nod in response. "I'm sure.. Question, though.. Have you two had a threesome together before?" You ask, already having a semblance of the answer, but wanting to confirm.
Jake nods. "Honestly, Heeseung and I have had multiple threesomes together.. You'd be surprised how easy it is to accomplish when a girl is that horny.." 
You shake your head with a laugh, to glancing between the two of them. "Well.. I trust you guys, so I'm down.. Let's have some fun."
Soon enough you're at their apartment complex, and Jake helps you out of the car before leading you towards their apartment front door where Heeseung is fumbling with the keys. 
Once the door is open, Jake lets you walk in first. You follow Heeseung into the kitchen, and he grabs three glasses, setting them on the counter. "If I'm gonna do this with you guys, I feel like we should be way more drunk.. That way we can blame it on the alcohol in the morning." 
You snicker at his words, taking the glass he handed you once he filled it partially with whiskey. 
You weren't a fan of brown liquor, but it was definitely an easy road to getting drunk faster. The three of you all stood around the kitchen island, exchanging small glances and short conversations.
With every sip from your glass, you relaxed a little more, letting loose so you could simply focus on the current situation.
You hadn't noticed how close Heeseung was, being the first to initiate intimacy as he wrapped an arm around your waist, pressing his lips to your neck.
You gasp softly, eyes shutting as you took in the feeling of his lips on your neck. Jake watched silently, downing the rest of his drink before rounding the counter to cup your cheek. 
He turns your head towards him, kissing you as you hum into the kiss. Their touch on your skin is like fire, but in the best way possible. You're already getting more excited and all they're doing is kissing you.
Jake pulls away, smiling at you as you turn towards Heeseung who leans in to capture your lips with his. His kiss is less gentle, you can almost taste the need building up at the back of his throat when he slots his tongue into your mouth. 
Jake takes no action, instead watching the two of you kiss, his hands on your hips and his head on your shoulder. When you and Heeseung finally part, he presses his lips to your ear. "Let's head to the bedroom.. As much as I'd hate to admit, I'm all too eager to see you naked right now.." 
You chuckle, pulling away from Jake, turning to face him instead as you kiss him again. "Then what's the wait?... Let's go."
Before you can even respond, he's pulling you towards the bedroom, stumbling through the door with Heeseung following slowly behind. He's not in a rush, not as much as Jake, but part of him wants to watch the two of you interact before he even gets involved.
Jake is quick to pull you close, kissing you, with more passion this time as he slides his hands beneath your shirt, wanting more of a connection. It's not long before he's pulling away to attempt to pull the shirt over your head.
Heeseung decides to intervene, not wanting Jake to steal all the fun. He turns your head towards him, smiling. "Strip.." The word falls easily from his lips, so seductively that you can't even think of disobeying.
You hum, putting on a strip tease as you slowly unzip your skirt, sliding past your hips before letting it hit the floor. Then, you brought the shirt up and over your head, letting it litter the floor. The last thing you remove is your heels.
"If you wanna see the rest, you're gonna have to earn it.." Your words are alluring and Heeseung finds it cute. He likes this side of you. He's used to the normal side of you where you're more direct and not at all teasing. 
He leads you to the bed, Jake following as you climb onto the bed, basically sandwiched between them. Heeseung kisses you again, seemingly unable to get enough of your taste. 
Jake on the other hand has better plans ahead. He kisses down your neck, trailing down past your chest and to your stomach. 
You moan when he rubs you through the silk of your panties, giving Heeseung further access to kiss you deeper. All the while, Jake's kisses get lower and lower, soon reaching your waistband.
You pull away from Heeseung momentarily to glance down at him, watching him grip the fabric before tugging it downwards. The second they were off, he slid a finger into you, moving it slowly in and out of you. You tilt your head back, biting your lip to hold back a moan.
Heeseung moves, sliding a finger in with Jake's as you let out a short gasp. They move they're fingers perfectly together and you're sure this isn't the first time they've done this. Their fingers press perfectly against your sweet spot, drawing needy moans from your throat as you watch their movements.
Jake takes the lead, leaning down to swipe his tongue against your clit before sucking on it.
Heeseung scoffs, grabbing Jake by his hair. "You're so eager.. Stealing all the fun.." The younger man pulls away from you at Heeseung's words, removing his finger from your hole. "Then join me.. No one's stopping you.."
Heeseung smirks, leaning down as he flicks his tongue against your clit, holding your right leg open while Jake holds the other.
Jake continues to move his tongue against you, his tongue moving with Heeseung's as they both sucked on your pussy.
You moan louder, having never experienced such pleasure. Both of their tongue on you is insane, and it feels amazing. Heeseung and Jake seem to be enjoying it as well, alternating between giving each other room to eat at your cunt and then going back to doing it together. It feels amazing, and you're already so close.
"Fuck..." You tug on Heeseung's hair, and he caresses your thigh, pulling away. "Just cum when you need to, baby.." He's now watching Jake take you to the edge, running his hand through the younger man's hair as Jake eagerly eats you out, his tongue flicking mercilessly against your clit.
You can feel the pleasure blooming hotly in your lower abdomen, and it's not long before you're spilling into Jake's mouth, coming undone on his tongue as he laps up every liquid that flows out of you.
Once you've come down from your high, he sits up, pulling Heeseung into a kiss to allow the older man to taste you as well. The scene is so hot, watching them kiss each other as comfortably as they would you. The way they grasp at each other. It's all so alluring.
Your orgasm has slightly sobered you, and now you're feeling shy. Jake and Heeseung are both fully dressed still, but you're completely naked, save for the bra covering your chest.
"Why am I the only one naked..?" You question as Heeseung smiles, trailing his hand up your thigh. "Because I wouldn't have been able to contain myself if these clothes weren't acting as a barrier.. But now that you're all prepped.." He pulls his shirt off, letting it hit the floor. "I can finally have some fun with you.."
Jake pulls you to sit up, moving to sit behind you as Heeseung smiles. "Hands and knees, baby.."
He undoes his belt while you take position, staring up at Jake as he kisses you, cupping your jaw sweetly. "Be a good girl, hm?.." He mumbles as he undoes his own pants, freeing his cock from the restraint of his pants.
You immediately take it into your hand, giving it a few gentle licks before taking the tip into your mouth. You moan in surprise when you feel Heeseung's cockhead press against you, sliding in slowly as you lose focus for a second, only continuing when Jake tangled his hands into your hair, easing you further down his length.
It was hard to focus. Heeseung's thrusts were slow, but cavernous, hands gripping your hips as you moan, swirling your tongue around Jake's cock.
Jake leans his head back, lips parted to release low moans as you suck his dick. The way you pull off every minute or so to breathe, the way you moan around him, and the way you stroke what can't fit. It's all to attractive for him.
"Fuck.. You're doing so well..." He praises as you take him slightly deeper, his tip pressing against the walls of your throat as you gag around him.
Heeseung quickens his pace once he feels that your used to him, fucking you faster, but just as deep.
This causes you to lose focus slightly, inhaling sharply as a shallow pain settled into your hips. Heeseung was rough, hips meeting yours with every drive, his cock entering you fully each time. The feeling has you seeing stars, moaning around Jake as you go from sucking his dick to wrapping your lips around him sloppily. He pulls you off, tugging on your hair to tilt your head back as he kisses you, tasting himself on your tongue.
You're drawn from Jake once more when Heeseung slaps your ass, wrapping his arm around you to apply pressure on your clit. You're a moaning mess, arms growing tired from holding yourself up. And Heeseung notices. He's been watching your arms shake for awhile now, wondering when you're gonna give up.
Before your arms can give out on you, Heeseung pulls you up by your arms, resting back on his heels as he continues to pound into you.
Jake takes the opportunity to shove your bra downwards, leaning forward to take your perky nipple into his mouth. He hums around you, eliciting a moan out of you as you lean back, letting Heeseung hold you flush against him.
You can feel your orgasm growing closer.. Heeseung's too. The way his hips move in an unsteady pace, and his fingers work your clit so easily. It's all too perfect.
"Heeseung.. Holy shit.." You whine, feeling a tightness in the pit of your stomach. He chuckles, pressing kisses to your shoulder. "Gonna cum?. Hm?.. Gonna make a mess on my cock?.." His words make everything feel ten times better, and Jake's mouth on your chest, switching back and forth as he sucks purple love bites into your skin.. It's heavenly..
It's not long before you cum, creaming Heeseung's cock as you tighten around him, paving the way for his own orgasm as he spills blissfully into your aching heat. His movements slow, and Heeseung pulls out, switching spots with Jake as he gestures for you to move closer.
You obey willfully, letting Heeseung kiss you gently before sitting against his chest, your legs spread wide open for Jake's entry.
The younger male is now shirtless. His pants still hanging loosely at his hips, and his erected length standing proudly, glistening dimly with your spit and his precum.
He situates himself between your legs, pressing his tip against your clit as you whine, still feeling sensitive. He ignores the twitching of your hips, rubbing himself eagerly against you as he let's out his own moans.
He eventually gets himself worked up, feeling needy and shoving himself inside you with a quick thrust. You're seeing stars again, feeling an intense pleasure that you're not used to.
Jake's movements are shorter and not as deep as Heeseung's, but it still feels amazing. Without forcing himself to deep, he still manages to hit all the right spots.
You're moaning with every brush against your sweet spot, head tilted back against Heeseung's chest. The older male is watching happily, unclipping your bra and pulling it off of you so he has complete access to your chest, groping your breasts and playing with your nipples.
You hadn't expected much going into this, but you definitely don't regret it. Everything feels incredible, and Jake and Heeseung know they're making you feel good.
With both of them touching you, it feels absolutely amazing, and your body is still sensitive from the previous two orgasms. Jake's pace is relentless at this point, growing faster and deeper as he presses his thumb to your clit, rubbing it in circular motions.
You start squirming immediately, legs making an effort to close, but Jake spreads them again, holding down one thigh using his other hand to rub your clit.
"Fuck... Jake.. Please." You whine, tears forming in your eyes as he fucks you harder. Heeseung wraps his palm loosely around your neck, tilting your head back as he whispers in your ear. "Feel good? Hm?.. Us fucking you senseless?" He voices teasingly, running his tongue over the shell of your ear. You whimper, the sound coming straight out of your throat as tears start streaming down your cheeks.
Jake chuckles, slowing his thrust as he reaches up to wipe your tears. "Is it that good? Or are you just weak?.." His words make you cry harder, squirming against them as Heeseung holds you down, sucking on your neck, creating more purplish marks.
Jake goes back to toying with your clit, and you're trembling, orgasm nearing at an impeccable pace.
"Cum.. Be a good girl and cum for us.." Heeseung whispers against your ear, sending chills down your spine as tighten around Jake, drawing a gritted moan from the back of his throat.
Jake thrusts a few more times before your coming undone for the third time tonight, whining and moaning as Jake continues to thrust into you, wet and lewd sounds echoing throughout the room.
"Please no more.." Your vision is cloudy from the tears, and it's almost hard to breathe. Heeseung turns your head, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. "Shh.. Just breathe.. You can take it.."
Though his words are encouraging and sweet, you can't help how overstimulated you feel, and Jake doesn't seem to care either. He's lost in his own pleasure, thrusting haphazardly as he chases his orgasm.
"I'm gonna cum, shit.." He grips your hips, rutting against you as he spills into you, painting your insides with his cum. Once he finally stills himself inside you, you let out a weak moan, whimpering when he pulls out.
"What a mess..." Jake smiles, running his fingers through the mess of cum coating your thighs and your pussy, sliding them into your mouth to make you taste it.
You whine around his fingers, sucking them clean as he pulls them out, leaning down to give you a soft kiss before staring down at you. "From now on, you belong to us.. Forget about that bastard." His tone drops seriously, and you nod in understanding.
Heeseung chuckles, kissing your head. "Good girl.."
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coff33andb00ks · 7 months ago
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American Idiot - LS
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American Idiot pairing: Logan Sargeant x reader summary: rule #1: don't fall in love. rule #2: don't break rule #1. rule #3: you broke both rules didn't you? word count: 3567 warnings: smut (18+ only), not proofread, Logan has a bit of a frat guy attitude in parts, mentions of past sexual assault (non explicit) {your mental health is more important than any engagement I get on this, so please don't read if that is a triggering subject for you ❤️} a.n.: here I wrote a happy thing for logan
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"Yes, baby, just like that," he moaned, gripping her hips tighter. He wanted to watch her but his eyes slipped shut and he dug his fingers into her skin. "Gonna make me cum."
Y/n suddenly lifted off him, causing his eyes to snap open. Her face was screwed up and at first he thought she was in the middle of cumming, but she let out a pained whine and he decided that couldn't be it.
"What," he gasped, wincing when her knee slammed into his hip as she collapsed next to him.
"Cramp," she whimpered. She lay on her side, almost perfectly still, leg bent at the knee while she lightly punched the mattress. "Fuck."
Logan exhaled harshly and dragged a hand over his face before shifting, sitting up. He could see her calf muscle clenched, lightly spasming under her skin and winced. "It's okay, I've got you."
"There's nothing you can – ow!" she cried out when he gently grasped her ankle and extended her leg. Immediately she was trying to bend it back but he kept it straight. "Logan, no, it hurts!"
"Relax, let me rub it out," he said softly, cupping his other hand over her calf. He began to massage, keeping his touch light at first while she pressed her face into the pillow and nearly screeched in pain. "Y/n, just breathe—"
"Fuck you," she whimpered. "I'm never riding you again. I always get a leg cramp."
"Because you don't stretch," he pointed out, applying more pressure.
She just turned her head and looked at him.
"What?" he asked.
"Oh, just waiting for you say you expect me to stretch you."
"I thought it went without saying."
She tried to kick him, hissing and tensing at the pressure it put on her cramp. "It's not working, Logan."
"I've been doing it for thirty seconds," he sighed. Leaning over, he kissed her cheek. "Please just relax, okay?"
She exhaled slowly. "It hurts, Logie."
"I know, I know. I'm sorry. I'll never ask you to be on top again," he assured her, feeling the cramp starting to loosen. She whined and he was quick to shush her. "Breathe, baby."
She did, slowly and deeply, occasionally groaning in pain as he manipulated the muscle. "Sorry for ruining the sex."
"We can try later," he said with a shrug.
"Maybe I have plans."
"Do you?" he asked. He would be surprised if she did. She tended to stay in on a Saturday night, getting her drinks and partying done on Fridays so she could enjoy the weekend.
"No," she mumbled. "Do you?"
"Only thing I'm doing tonight is you."
She laughed at that, humming when he bent and straightened her knee. "Were you really about to cum?"
"Yeah, but it's fine." It wasn't as though she'd leave him hanging. It was the whole reason behind their arrangement: neither party leaves a meeting unsatisfied.
She'd typed out the agreement in full legalese. Then she'd presented it to him as though arguing a case in front of a jury. Complete with a sexy suit that had only encouraged him to agree and sign so they could get to business.
"Mm," she moaned.
"Better?" He already knew the answer. Her muscle was fully relaxed now, though he was sure it would be sore for a while. She nodded and he kissed her cheek again before sliding off the bed to throw away the wasted condom.
"Thanks, Logie," she murmured when he rejoined her in the bed. She scooted over, hissing softly as she lifted her leg to drape it over his. "Just give me a few minutes."
Her few minutes turned into an hour long nap but he didn't complain. Content to lie with her, he smoothed her hair while she slept, a little amused. She'd been his friend for years, and if anyone had told him even two years before he'd be sleeping with her regularly he would have laughed in their face. But here he was, and as he reached for the covers to pull over them it occurred to him that if he couldn't have sex with her when she woke up he wouldn't be too upset.
"You're so busy with racing, you can't spare time to make an emotional connection with someone enough to sleep with them. I'm busy with work and I'd rather kiss a frog on live tv than let some loser I meet at the club fuck me. It makes perfect sense."
It did, so he'd agreed. Maybe she caught him in a lonely moment, or an extremely horny one. Maybe she'd caught him during a dry spell. Either way, he'd agreed to become platonic lovers with her.
Friends with benefits.
Fuck buddies.
Booty calls.
She'd been right, it was beneficial. He was usually so sexually satisfied that when he met someone he could see as a potential mate, he could focus on actually getting to know them as opposed to getting them in bed. And, having met her coworkers and more than a few of the losers that went to the clubs she did, he knew he had to be a better option than what she had around regularly.
"No falling in love. We're friends, nothing more. No jealousy. If you find someone to love I'll be over the moon, and if I find someone you'll be happy. No unprotected sex. I don't want to be a mom before I'm 25 and you're not ready to be a dad. We both agree to regularly get tested if we sleep with other people. And, lastly, if one of us wants to end the arrangement we end it. Most importantly, we remain friends."
At first it had been amazing. Guaranteed pussy whenever he wanted or needed it? He'd been sold on the idea before she'd even finished the suggestion. If he was away for a race he could just call or FaceTime her for a quick phone sex session?
Amazing.
No pressure. No worries. He didn't have to deal with the girlfriend stuff. He didn't have to remember important dates or to pick up something for her on his travels. She didn't expect him to be her date to work events or to go around pretending to care about the stuff she wanted to buy.
And they still hung out. Sometimes before, sometimes after. Nothing had changed at all in their friendship. She still called him out for being a douchebag, he still insulted her music taste, they still laughed while watching stupid movies.
It was, he thought, like having a girlfriend without all the work.
Until, suddenly, it was different.
He didn't know why he'd bought the stuffed animal in Miami. Probably because she'd said she liked eagles. And it had an American flag shirt on which made it even better in his opinion. But he'd bought it, he'd shown it to Oscar, who'd groaned and laughed and called him painfully American, he'd packed it in his suitcase for the trip back to England.
And he was watching her take it out of the gift bag now, a big stupid grin on his face when she began to laugh.
"Oh my god I love it," she said, hugging it to her chest then hugging him.
That was why he'd bought it, he thought a few minutes later when she was on her knees, staring up at him with pure lust in her eyes. And then he noticed that she kept it on her bed.
She went to Switzerland for something work related. He didn't know what, because she'd told him right before going down on him. They FaceTimed when they could during the two weeks she was out of the country, and when she got back she had a gift for him.
A cuckoo clock.
He loved it and laughed every time it went off, and felt a little rush of warmth because she'd thought of him. It turned out she hated it, because it had a knack for cuckooing loudly just when she was about to come, but he made up for that. At least, going by the way she'd murmur yay when he went down on her.
"So today marks the anniversary of the worst day of my life," she announced one summer afternoon as she walked into his place.
Logan grunted when she pushed her shopping bag at him. "Which worst day?" he asked, closing the door. "When you got dumped by that dickhead Dave?"
"No, that was in November."
"When you caught your boss cheating?" He peered into the bag and set it down, following her to the sofa.
"That was January, and that wasn't a worst day, just a weird day. Like, bad because he can't keep it in his pants but also good because I got a raise." Kicking off her shoes, she flopped onto the sofa.
He racked his brains, going over as many of her worst days as he could recall. The time she'd gotten food poisoning in Brighton? Apparently that had been in March. The time a guy got sick on her in the club? October, how could he forget? The asshole had ruined her costume. Groaning, he threw his head back in defeat, realizing he was rubbing her feet. "You gotta help me out, babe."
"Wow, you did forget." She sighed dramatically, throwing an arm over her face. "And I thought you weren't like other guys? Do you even love me, Logan?"
"I'm rubbing your gross feet—"
"They're not gross I just had a pedicure this – Fuck you," she snorted when he laughed.
"I'm rubbing your amazing feet," he corrected with a roll of his eyes. "The most beautiful feet in the world—"
"Ew, don't make it weird." She lowered her arm and sat up. "But really? You don't remember?"
"No… Wait, was it that time the guy came before you could put the condom on?"
"No, it's – Actually that's next week. Do you know I saw him a few days ago? He pretended he didn't know who I was."
"You made the guy cum in seconds, y/n."
"Okay, and? I made you cum in a minute thirty and you still talk to me."
"You…" He tipped his head. "You timed it?"
"It's my personal best. Aside from Preemie Pete but he doesn't really count because I didn't even do anything to him except grind on him—"
"What's my nickname?" Logan asked suddenly.
"Logie?" She looked confused. "Logie Bear."
"No, no, my nickname. Preemie Pete, Dickhead Dave. You called that guy you met at the store Sainsbury's Steve and the firefighter was Fireman Fred. What do you call me when you talk about me with the girls?"
"That's classified information. I'm not at liberty to discuss it with you, as you are not one of the girls."
"Bullshit, because you've told me all the others," he pointed out. "Go on, tell me."
"Logie—"
"I'm not like Car Guy am I? Because that—"
"Wishbone."
He stopped rubbing her feet, fully turning to face her. "Wishbone?"
"Yeah. Wishbone." She swung her feet to the floor and moved to stand. "We still doing dinner?"
He grabbed her arm and dragged her back down. "Why Wishbone?"
"It's stupid," she groaned, pretending to fight against his hold. "All the nicknames are stupid, they don't really mean – When I first told them about you we'd just met and I said I wished the stupid American would bone me, okay?"
He let her go, even more confused now. "But I have."
"Yes," she said slowly, getting to her feet. "Many times."
"Then why am I still a wish?"
"Well they don't know you're fucking me." She shrugged, grabbing up her bag and heading to the kitchen.
He let that marinate in his brain for a minute before getting up to follow her. "Why don't they know?"
"I don't tell th… Right, I do tell them everything. But they know I was super into you back then and if they found out that you're the only guy I'm sleeping with they'd never stop teasing me. Chicken or salmon?"
"Chicken." She'd been into him back when they met? He tried to remember, to see if he could recall any obvious signs she'd wanted him then, but couldn't. Could only remember her rolling her eyes and looking annoyed when he talked about anything.
But he did remember—
"Oh, y/n," he whispered. "I'm sorry."
"I'm okay," she said quickly. "It was years ago. I'm pretty much over it."
"Don't lie to make me feel better." Because she did. Especially when it came to that. Pretty much over it. Rarely think about it. So far in the past it's hardly worth mentioning. But it was the reason she still slept with a light on. The reason she never went out alone at night. The reason she was wary of new men entering her life. The reason she was hyper aware of her surroundings in public, always mapping out an escape route if needed. It was one of the reasons behind her need to joke and laugh about everything, because she had to keep people liking her. It was the reason she spent so many of her precious days off working with the sexual abuse charity, willing to tell her horror over and over again so girls with similar cruelties would feel seen and understood.
He hadn't known her then. Would never know what she'd been like before her innocence and faith in humanity had been fractured. He only knew her as the woman she was. Fierce and protective and stronger than anyone he would ever know. He often wished he didn't know what had happened to her on that horrible night, but felt honored that she trusted him enough to share that side of her life with him.
"Do you want to talk about it?" he asked softly. She shook her head.
"Can we cook together?" she whispered.
"Of course." He hesitated, finally reaching to squeeze her shoulder. She lifted her head and he saw the tears shining in her eyes. She may not have wanted to talk about it, may have wanted him to just step away and wash his hands or whatever, but he pulled her to him, tucking his chin on her head while he held her, keeping silent while she let herself cry.
Wishing he could meet the monster face to face for just ten minutes.
He held her until her shoulders stopped shaking, until she sniffled and let go of his shirt. Pressing a kiss into her hair, he let go and offered to turn on music, making sure to pull up the playlist of songs that were cheerful and lighthearted. They cooked, or rather she cooked while he stood to the side to hand her things and clean up, and ate on the couch, watching her favorite movie.
And he realized it was his favorite movie now.
She stayed the night and he didn't care that she didn't want sex. Didn't care that she pulled her stuffed eagle out of her bag and held it close while he got ready for bed. Didn't care that the lamp was on. He was just happy to be there for her, to hold her while she fell asleep and then lie there watching her sleep. Even rocks needed support sometimes.
And it struck him – a full two months later – that he looked forward to just seeing her more than he looked forward to the sex. She'd become more than his best friend, more than his hookup, and he panicked constantly that he'd somehow let on that he'd broken the first rule of their arrangement.
But he had the feeling she knew, especially when he went straight to her office after flying in from Singapore to see her instead of going straight home to sleep off the jet leg. Her eyes lit up and she smiled brighter than the weak sun ever could, and when she hugged him tight and told him she'd missed him he knew she meant it.
"Dinner tomorrow?" he asked before leaving. The answer was yes and, no longer exhausted or feeling mediocre as he sometimes did after a race, he went home with a smile on his face.
She showed up at his door with that bright smile and oohed and aahed over the candles and the flowers. Teased him for being a try hard for wearing a suit and kissed his cheek.
Dinner might have tasted divine. Or it might have tasted like sawdust. He would never know.
"Logie?"
God, she was beautiful. Always had been, he realized, wondering why he'd been so blind until just recently. But tonight, in her light blue dress and her eyes sparkling in the candlelight, she was stunning.
Heartbreakingly so. Because she would only ever be his friend.
"Yeah?" he finally murmured, realizing he was staring.
She stood up and left the table, coming back with her purse. Pulling out some papers, she sat down and bit her lip. "We need to talk."
Never a good thing when a woman said that. Swallowing hard, he took a sip of water to push down the lump in his throat. "About what?"
"You remember this?" She held up the papers and he nodded, seeing the contract she'd typed up and printed out for them both to sign.
"You want to end it?" he asked, anxiety curling in his chest, embarrassment heating his face at the way his voice cracked mid-sentence. Had she met someone?
"I think we need to," she said with a frown.
"Wh-why?" God, she'd met someone and hadn't told him and even worse, she'd fallen in love and now he'd be alone—
"I broke rule number one," she blurted.
"We don't have to end it," he said. "Rules get broken all the time. We can work it out—"
"Logie—"
"I can't go back to random meaningless hookups anymore. I can't go back to models that don't know their ass from a hole in the ground—"
She let out a sharp giggle at that, clapping a hand over her mouth. "Logan!"
"I can't do it, y/n. Not when I've had the best thing that's ever happened to me. And I'm not even talking about the sex, it's just… We've spent more time together and I know I wasn't supposed to but I did it anyway because my heart's stupid I guess. I can't just go back to nothing with you—"
"Do you even remember what rule number one was?" she cut in, staring at him with wide eyes.
He froze, blinking slowly. "The one about protection, right?"
"Oh my god," she groaned, slapping her palm to her forehead. "No, Logan. Of course you don't remember. But you do, because you always remember everything, like how I need to sleep with a light on and can't watch horror movies after dark and that I only like white wine even if I'm eating red meet. You play the part of a fucking idiot so well because it shields you from people wanting to get too close and knowing the real you, like you're not the greatest thing America's made since chocolate chip cookies. Like you don't have a heart bigger than Texas."
"Um, y/n—"
"Which is exactly why I broke the stupid fucking rule that I made, because how could I not?" She threw the papers down and covered her face with both hands. "I didn't do it on purpose, you know? But I fucking did it, I fell for you, because the only bad thing about you is your annoying American pride."
"Y/n—"
"And it took everything in me to tell you this, but at least now I know you don't want to change this. You're happy just being fuck buddies and I have to be okay with it because I was the goddamned idiot that wrote the rules—"
"I love you too," he blurted.
She stopped. Lowered her hands. And stared at him.
"I love you," he said softly. "Always have, I think. I just… Never realized it until I wasn't supposed to."
"When did you know?" she whispered.
He sighed, shrugging one shoulder. He couldn't tell her. It would be embarrassing to admit he'd been holding it in since—
"Miami?" she asked.
"Oh come on, how could you know that?"
"Logan Hunter Sargeant, you brought me a stuffed eagle. You hate stuffed animals!"
"Yeah, but I love you."
She stared at him for a few seconds. Then, to his confusion, she began to laugh.
His favorite sound, followed very closely by her moan.
"Oh god, Logie," she giggled.
"When did you know?" he asked once she'd stopped laughing.
"When you left for Miami and I cried because I couldn't go with you," she said.
"God, we're both idiots," he muttered. Then he sat up straight. "Wait, hey, you said… You love me?"
She laughed again, nodding, and stayed laughing while he grabbed the papers and ripped them in half. And was still giggling when he pulled her to her feet and caught her in a sweet kiss.
"And we did break the protection rule," he whispered a lifetime later when they pulled apart.
"You pulled out, doesn't count."
"That's not in the rules."
She rolled her eyes, wrapping her arms around him. "There aren't any rules anymore, Wishbone."
~end~
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damnfeelings09 · 4 days ago
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The way I loved you - Shadow's version
*A.N: sorry, I got lost reading some ff
"He is sensible and so incredible And all my single friends are jealous."
"Look at these beautiful flowers!" said Amy. "You have to tell me your secret, Sonic isn't the most romantic guy, ya' know" You were sitting in the living room of your apartment; it was small but cozy. There were plants in every corner, and despite the little time you had to settle in, you felt comfortable in this new house.
"And it's like, I couldn't ask for anything better," you said with a shy smile.
"That's fabulous! I'm so happy you gave yourself this chance... you know, since..."
"I know, I feel good, but I want to take it slow."
"And I feel perfectly fine."
When Amy left, you let yourself fall back onto your bed, in fact you didn't really feel fine. You missed him, you missed every moment. You couldn't blame Amy, you were too good at hiding your feelings. Only someone who knew you perfectly would notice you weren’t... happy. Actually, you didn't feel anything at all.
"... And it's 2 a.m., and I'm cursing your name. So in love that you act insane, and that's the way I loved you."
Every night, just before closing your eyes to sleep, you could feel his breath, his presence hadn't left you for a second in the last three months. Even though you didn't see him anymore, it was as if his memory was buried in your mind, like his image was tattooed on your heart, a mark you couldn't erase, one you didn’t want to erase. It hadn't been long since you met Dylan. He was actually nice, you'd bumped into him at the cafeteria, and he accidentally spilled your latte. After a thousand apologies, he offered to buy you a new one. You’d been hanging out three times, counting today, but when you told your friends about it, they were more than happy to see you back in the game.
"He respects my space, and never makes me wait, and he calls exactly when he says he will."
You checked your latest messages. Dylan had written "Goodnight and have fun, beautiful," after you mentioned you wouldn’t see him and would instead spend time with the girls.
"He's charming and endearing, and I'm comfortable."
"I'm comfortable," you said aloud, but when you were alone, hundreds of memories haunted you. Memories of when you had been so happy, loved like you never thought possible, cried, and suffered, but you did it all by his side. There he was again, always occupying your thoughts. At 2 p.m., when you had lunch, and again at 2 a.m., when you woke up startled by nightmares where you lost him over and over. You turned your phone back on, scrolling down to the bottom of your messages, and found his conversation. You read again the last message he had sent you: "I'll be late," with the date on the day you decided to move on with your life without him.
"He caused all of this. So… why do I feel like this?" you thought. You couldn't stop looking at the screen, hoping, wishing there was something more, that he had done something more. Suddenly, his status changed, he was online, and dots began to appear on the screen. He was typing. After three months of silence, he had finally reached out to you… your heart raced so fast you felt like it would burst out of your chest. The excitement, anxiety, fear, and anger were trying to take control of your body all at once. But when the dots disappeared, and his status went offline again, everything collapsed.
"Breaking down and coming undone, it's a rollercoaster kind of rush. And I never knew I could feel that much, and that's the way I loved you."
The next morning, you bumped into Dylan on your way to work. You talked about the weather, your outing with the girls, and his job. Dylan loved his job as an IT agent for GUN and loved to talk endlessly, something you weren’t used to. You limited yourself to nodding and smiling while he told you about the latest update he'd made to the criminal profiles platform at GUN.
"He can´t see the smile I'm faking and my heart's not breaking 'cause I'm not feeling anything at all."
As you walked through the GUN facilities and passed by the training center, memories flooded your mind. This time, you both had fought, but you didn't quite remember why...
You walked out of the training center, both fists clenched until your claws dug into your palms. You were upset, he hadn't respected the agreement to let you work, and his only defense had been, "You're not strong enough for this task, sorry." Once again, underestimating your abilities, even though, thanks to your effort, the last two missions you'd worked on together had gone wonderfully, and your colleagues praised your persistence. Of course, he was the team captain, and you didn’t expect different treatment just because you were his girlfriend; you simply expected him to start noticing your potential.
"And you were wild and crazy. Just so frustrating, intoxicating, complicated. Got away by some mistake and now..."
"Stupid hedgehog," you muttered under your breath as the raindrops began to soak your body. The wind soon picked up, and what started as a small breeze had turned into a storm. You had to turn back, or you'd end up sick, and they'd send you home. Just as you were about to go back, you heard someone calling your name. It was him, standing a few meters away, his dark fur soaked, and every quill dripping. His chest fur, once fluffy, now seemed flat due to the water.
"If you're here to scold me again, keep it to yourself. I was about to go back." In a second, the hedgehog was right in front of you.
"I'm sorry," you heard him murmur. "Don’t disappear like that again." Something in his voice made your wall of anger break. There, in the rain, with his face drenched and his red eyes, now dimmed, just inches from yours, made him look so... vulnerable. "No… I didn’t mean that you can’t do it, it’s just that… thinking of you, alone, out there… no, no..." he stammered, looking away. You had never seen him like this. You were so used to his strong, disciplined personality. Worry was not a word you associated with him, but now you realized he was worried about you.
"Hey," you said, gently caressing his face. "It's okay, I’m here, and I’ll be fine because I’ll have the best captain to guide me" you smiled at him.
"The best captain?" he asked, his crimson eyes regaining their sparkle as he raised an eyebrow.
"Of course! Sonic doesn’t do things as badly as you think, and... we have you too," you joked, earning a snort from him. You smiled as he closed the distance between you, pulling you into an embrace. The surprise was evident in your eyes. You knew he hated public displays of affection, especially at work. He didn't want people thinking there was favoritism towards you. He tightened his embrace as he felt your body shivering because of the cold, moving his face close to yours placing a soft kiss that contained everything he couldn't express.
"I miss screaming and fighting and kissing in the rain and It's 2 a.m., and I'm cursing your name. I'm so in love that I acted insane, and that's the way I loved you."
"Hey! Moon!" someone called, snapping you out of your thoughts. As you returned to the present, you found yourself staring at the training center. Dylan had his hand in front of your face, trying to get your attention. "Where did you go?"
"Ah... it's nothing," you said, scratching the back of your head, your cheeks still flushed from the memory. "See you later, Dylan." You walked towards the main offices, trying to avoid making eye contact with anyone else and trying to avoid running into him. When you reached the elevator, you heard a ring—a new notification. You quickly pulled out your phone and found a message. It was a simple interaction, just 3 words put together, but it was enoght to make your heart begin to beat again, as if waking up from a deep sleep.
Shadow: Hey
"Never knew I could feel that much and that's the way I loved you."
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callofdudes · 8 months ago
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So, uh, I was watching Bad Boys 2 with my dad and when the shootout scene happened and Marcus accidentally got shot in the ass I couldn’t help but wonder after I was done LMFAOing; how the COD boys (or the guys from 141 if you have a character limit) would react to and deal with having been shot in the ass? Especially if their S/O or best friend was there?
Ouchie ouchie. Here ya go anon! Sorry it took so long!
Getting shot in the ass.
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Fucking humiliated.
First off, it hurt and oh boy he would not talk to anyone. If you're not in the immediate vicinity of medical attention he is going to have to be taken care of by one of you.
He'd probably trust either you or Price. He loves Johnny but not enough to touch his whole ass.
If you're his spouse you will 100% try to make jokes to calm him down, and it doesn't end up making it any better. Simon laying on his stomach writhing in pain while you've got him pantsed.
He's never speaking to any of you again. He'd rather be buried alive than have you bandaging his whole asscheek so he doesn't bleed everywhere.
"Are-fuck! Are you done yet!?" He growled, turning into a whine near the end because he's in pain. Come on man...
"Almost Simon, just hang in with me ok?"
He whines, and you continue to as gently as you can patch the wound. And like a meanie you're trying not to laugh the whole time.
When you're done you'll pat his butt gently and help him up. "Fuck you, and fuck that last 20 minutes of my life." He winces, attempting to stand.
"It's an occupational hazard y'know-"
"In my ass. MY BLOODY ARSE!"
"Well it's not bloody anymore...??"
Yeah he's never speaking to you. Or the others. He'll go back to that coffin where he was safe and his beautiful ass wasn't being threatened 24/7.
When you get back if you tell anyone he's suffocating you in your sleep. Not like the medical team will let him go. Surgery to get the bullet out of his arse and then was hurting for weeks.
Glaring constantly because now he has one of those butt pillows that you'd sit on after a BBL. And the recruits are bugging him because, "Got a lift Lt??" "Thought it was already big enough."
His arse is a point of contention for him and now he's being pointed out for the masses.
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"You... You want me to help??"
"Nope." He dragged his leg, limping his way as blood spilled.
"You've uh, got a hole in your-"
"I'm very well aware!" He grimaced, trying to ease down on his side. "Other room." He demands.
"I can help-"
"OTHER ROOM."
"Yes sir."
You step away and let Price undo his belt and survey the damage himself. The last time he was bleeding from his arse his military dad was spanking him upside down and sideways.
By the time he realizes he's going to need a little help he's already regretting his life. He's nearly had his balls shot off before, this shouldn't be news to him, but also, why....
Begrudgingly he calls you back in after messing with it enough it hurts twice as much as before.
So you grab some bandages and get to work.
"Don't-"
"I'm very well aware of where my hands are going captain, you're fine."
"Gross."
"You're bleeding."
"Thank you for stating the obvious." He rubbed his forehead, sighing.
You feel less inclined to snicker at Price because the poor man is just trying to make a living fighting crime. He doesn't deserve this. His beautiful soft ass doesn't deserve this.
When you get back he is just wanting the bullet out by that point so he doesn't fight medical. They get the bullet out and he is taking painkillers like they're going out of style. (No, not in an unhealthy way)
Will probably stay between his room and his office. He wants to do work very badly and hasn't enjoyed sitting around doing nothing for long periods of time.
Can't wear his favorite pants now because they're tighter and the seam cuts right into the stitches. Sweatpants and butt pillow it is until he's out of this hell.
Most recruits know not to poke the bear, unlike you. Or Simon.
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"Whew, that was close." You panted and looked at Johnny with relief. "No kidding." But as the adrenaline wore off, Johnny felt lightheaded, and fell to his side.
"Ow-" He winced, his leg feeling numb. You quickly rushed to him and looked him over. He wasn't shot anywhere... Oh. Oh, no never mind, yes he was.
"Johnny..."
"Yeah..?"
"You're shot."
Johnny followed your gaze and saw.
Surprisingly calm. Like, out of everyone he doesn't panic as much. Pulls up his shirt into his mouth and tells you to get it out.
You're hesitant because it's trying to pull a bullet out of someone's ass. And pulling a bullet out is never... Fun. But he trusts you, even if his cheeks are glaringly red from utter embarrassment.
But he doesn't want anyone else to do it for some reason, so you do your best.
Long story short, it did not go well. You ended up messing with the wound that his right ass cheek was so swollen. He looked like an idiot. Laying on his stomach in pain while waiting for Evac.
"I'm sorry..." You rubbed his shoulder.
You'd pulled his pants down further, while still being respectful. But man if he didn't look stupid, and it looked like it hurt. One cheek much bigger than the other, red and swollen.
Johnny promised to never get shot in the ass again. After he was put on bed rest because he had an infection. So uh... That was a fun adventure.
"Why the hell did you try to dig the bullet out of my ass??" He looked over at you when you visited him.
"You told me to do that! I told you it was a bad idea."
"Oh yeah..." He sniffled and crossed his arms, pouting his lip.
"Johnny.. come on, it'll get better."
"Well it can't get worse. Can it?"
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"Ow!! Bloody- shit!" He slid down a wall and looked down at his side, expecting the stinging pain he felt to have hit his leg, he was dismayed to find the bullet had got him in the ass.
"Oh fucking of course!" He groaned and tried his best to hold something over the wound while still getting bullets pelted at him.
"How're we looking, sergeant??"
Kyle looked back briefly and then adjusted his gun. "Fine! But I've got a bloody hole in my arse!"
"Say again?"
Kyle groaned. Falling out of helicopters, getting shot in the ass, what was next huh?
"I've. Got. A. Bullet. In my ass!!"
Mortified when the others get to him and see he was not lying. Kyle must have just about the worst luck because what the hell is this?? They got him to medical and they did indeed confirm he had a bullet where the sun don't shine.
His perfect, pretty, unscarred butt was now about to be dug into to get a bullet out. How humiliating. He had bad stuff happen to him, but this he refused to talk about.
"How're... How're you feeling?" You asked after he came out of surgery. Still high on drugs, Kyle glared at you. "Don't even..."
"Don't what?" You snickered slightly.
"Oh fuck off..."
You smiled a little and sat down. "Hey, you'll recover. It sucks, but you've gotten through worse."
"Bullet in the ass."
"Had a bullet in the ass."
"It was still there at one point. That was my reality, y/n!"
You lovingly shushed him with a glass of water.
Kyle did not say a word about it. Even when he needed a pillow to help him sit after the surgery, he never pointed it out. And the others saw the look, if they said anything Kyle would drag them behind a shed and suffocate them with said pillow.
And therefore, for everyone's collective safety, it was never brought up.
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