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temis-de-leon · 8 months ago

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Replaced MC AU/AU - V.3 - P.1

Characters: demon brothers, Diavolo, Barbatos, male! MC and crushing! male! NES (MC x NES)

Main Masterlist

Replaced MC AU/AU Masterlist (check the other versions and learn more about the NESs!)

Intro (gn!reader) , Part 2

CW: Solomon is mentioned, jealous and mean brothers, black cat x golden retriever behavior i think, one single kiss, a bit ambiguous at the end, not very angsty really, NES x MC centered

A/N: my favourite version of NES and MC by far, I enjoyed writing this a lot. However, my pc came out as homophobic and decided not to connect to any WiFi for this chapter, so I won't be able to update the links nor the masterlist until next week. Also, some people aren't properly tagged once again because I can't find their blogs for some reason?? So so sorry for that, but I don't know what to do about it.

NES was… someone they didn't expect. Unknowingly infuriating, always distracted and too unbothered to care about any of his surroundings. He was a disaster that enjoyed living in disaster and, if they weren't threatened by his presence, Satan and Belphegor would love his insolence.

Barbatos remembered an occasion, one moment from the second week of NES's attendance at RAD, where Lucifer gave him an earful for his ‘impropriety and insulting attitude towards the uniform’. Mammon had been there too, shirt out of his pants and jacket nowhere near closed, backing his brother up.

NES’s pristine appearance lasted only two periods before MC saw him chocking under his tie and laughed at him in sympathy. After that, he'd only wear the uniform ‘the Lucifer way’ if MC was there to eventually mess up the outfit.

And how could the eldest brother object to that?

“They need to loosen up, Lucifer”

MC always had the last word.

Solomon found the situation hilarious. Witnessing the brothers competing against each other in search of MC's attention was one thing, but adding NES to the equation? Yes, Barbatos had to somewhat agree. It was funny.

Who had been cooking for hours in the kitchen if not NES trying to make a quick snack for his fellow human? And who was the first one to leave the House of Lamentation each morning, already waiting next to MC’s seat by the time everyone else arrived?

Mammon called him a simp. Asmo liked to call them both the kettle and the pot.

And while, yes, Lucifer was the one and only Avatar of Pride, none of the brothers were able to admit just how big of a deal NES was becoming.

When would it be too late?

The Demon Prince's birthday arrived and the mandatory celebration was as grandiose as one could expect. Everything was bright and full of laughter, the streets cramped with food stalls, demons and witches alike throwing mesmerizing magic tricks for the children, acrobats, costumes, music…

At one point MC considered handcuffing himself to NES. Even Luke was easier to manage!

Fortunately, Beel ended up finding him playing darts with a succubus and her partners. Unfortunately, MC seemed to be the only one who wanted to check if he was okay.

It was becoming… draining.

Not NES, of course. Sure, he was a handful, but none of his mistakes were intentional. Everything he did came from naiveness and ignorance, being new to the Devildom, and what he lacked in common sense he made up in enthusiasm.

At least he didn't steal his valuables and he’d never threatened to kill him or eat his heart, something MC still thought about frequently. The worst thing NES ever did to him was throw them both to the ground when he tried to slide on the floor at full speed. And he still apologized for that from time to time.

Did the brothers ever apologize for all the things they did or said? The way they used to look at him? He couldn't remember.

Now they were doing the exact same thing to NES. Treating him like an unwanted guest instead of the roommate they insisted on having, turning down every single one of his ideas, including the good ones, and very passively threatening him in a condescending tone, as if they could impress MC with that.

Maybe it was a demon thing? Or rather regular jealousy brought to a dangerous level?

Whatever the reason, MC didn't waste any time sitting them in the living room and chewing the hell out of them, something that enraged Lucifer and put a strain in their relationship, still making it difficult to make small talk, but of course none of them would back down. The rest of the brothers weren't so obvious showing their annoyance, but it was still there.

The good thing was that, as long as MC was there, NES wouldn't be the receiving end of any bullshit. The bad thing was that MC didn't know what was going on behind his back. And NES, bless his soul, was never willing to tell him if any of them made him uncomfortable.

It was draining and NES gave him a sense of peace, but the brothers missed him and they wanted to monopolize his time, but MC wanted to spend time with his new friend and that made the brothers angry and jealous, which made MC anxious, which made NES worry.

Every factor made the situation worse. The brothers were too much, NES was too good for the Devildom and MC was too done with everything.

However, the time passed surprisingly fast as they sang Happy Birthday to Diavolo, eating in the midst of it all, dancing with each other and talking like they used to do before the ridiculous ordeal, albeit with a subtle tension that limited their topics of conversation.

They even ignored NES! Which was better than any other option!

So, once the voices toned down and the guests divided themselves into small groups, MC forced himself to whisk Diavolo away for a moment and have a serious talk, Barbatos following close and listening with a curious glance.

That proved to be nothing but a waste of time.

“It's too soon to take conclusions, MC. I'm sure the brothers just need time. After all, remember your first year here!”

He did remember. That's why he was so worried.

And why did Diavolo talk to him like that? He was 100% sure Lucifer insulted NES to no end anytime he had more than one horn of Demonus. What did they call NES in the privacy of their office? What did they think while they talked to him and faked respect? What were they plotting when they looked MC in the eyes and promised him they wouldn't threaten NES anymore?

Too many lies.

“Alo?”

But then… NES smiled so easily… Like none of that bothered him. Luckily, MC didn't mind caring in his behalf. He wondered if being able to save someone from the fate he had last year was the root of all his actions.

“You look so worried, you're gonna get all wrinkly! Not like you'd look bad, but if you're going to have wrinkles, won't you rather have them in your eyes? Like, from smiling too much, you know?”

He did smile then, imitating NES’s caring expression.

“There you are, handsome! You're gonna be the envy of all in 90 years!”

“Do you really think I'm going to live that much?”

“God, I hope so”

They laughed softly, but it still sounded too loud. MC looked out for the brothers, checking their positions in the ballroom before grabbing NES’s hand and dragging him to one of the balconies. He preferred not having the moment tarnished.

“Good idea! Too hot in there…"

“Don't lie to me”

“Wha…?”

MC stared at him quite sternly, although trying not to look to much like Lucifer, but he needed an answer.

“Do they still bother you? Do they threaten you? Do they ignore you? What do they do?”

“Whoa, whoa, MC. Here comes the frown again…”

He raised his hands, caressing MC’s frown until it softened. His touch was warm and soft and it made MC lean towards him, not wanting it to end. When he opened his eyes again, unknowingly closing them before, NES stayed in that position.

There was silence for a few seconds, interrupted only by the violins, the harps, the pianos and other instruments serenading them under the moonlight. NES could only stare at MC’s lips for a fragment of a second before someone grabbed the scruff of their necks with poorly hidden aggressiveness and brought them back to the ballroom.

MC raised his gaze in fury, bending down to help NES get up again. He expected to see red eyes and black feathers, but, to his surprise, what stared back at him were purple eyes and a long bovine tail.

He wanted to scream at him, to ask what the actual fuck was wrong with him. Would he had acted the same if it was one of his brothers instead of NES? Would he had such hate in his eyes?

But people were staring, very obviously amused at the sight of two humans being put back in place.

MC would have to wait.

“NES! What happened?!”

MC watched as the boy waved at him, hanging upside down where Mammon usually spent countless hours. His arms were tied behind his back and the rope covered his body in a way that surely left no room for the blood to circulate properly. His head already looked dangerously red and MC knew he couldn't leave him there for too long unless he wanted him to have permanent damage.

“I think I failed my last test, but I don't really remember”

“What do you mean you don't remember?”

“Well, I'm very dizzy right now, but I'm sure it's okay. Lucifer will get me out of here soon enough”

Or he won't.

MC sighed, cursing in silence before studying the thick ropes and the tight knots. He knew he wouldn't be able to untie him by hand and he wouldn't be surprised if the kitchen suddenly lacked knives, no doubt the result of Lucifer's pettiness and sadism.

“Wait for me here, okay? I have to get something to cut the ropes…”

“Wait, wait! MC!”

He turned around, patiently staring at his loopy smile and cloudy eyes. He couldn't wait for too long, but maybe he could indulge a couple of minutes.

“What?”

NES briefly looked away, his embarrassment gaining MC’s attention. Now that was a rare sight.

“Have you seen Spiderman?”

His heart stopped for a second and he felt his cheeks getting hot. His hand, previously grasping his hip, fell to his side and made him lose balance.

“You can say no, of course. We can forget about this and I won't get offended. A little sad maybe, but I can manage. I like you too much to stop liking you for a kiss. Does that sound weird? You get me, right?”

His rambling gave MC the opportunity to go down a couple of steps in the staircase and align his face in front of NES’s. The position was weird and staring at his chin was an experience he didn't know he would get the chance to live, but he didn't care.

It wasn't until he finally kissed him mid-sentence that he noticed a figure peeking around the corner, eyes staring without blinking and jealousy ready to made itself known.

Accepting the challenge, MC closed his eyes and grasped NES’s hair, pulling him closer and deepening the kiss.

Dinner that night would be fucking awkward.

Taglist: : @stfuchaase @k1-an @meggs-wonderland @kkeromenoo @va109 @marvelous-maniac @cruzerforce4256 @blarsh @marathedemonoverlord @junni-berry @arylleb @b-a-m-2006 @jonielunar @piercedddriver @cosmidaydreaming @bluegrey02 @anxious-chick

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needtoloveoutloud · 4 months ago

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Shadows Of Our Past, Present, and (possible) Future — Series

My Hero Academia — Female!OC Fan Fiction on AO3

Part One (Completed — 93k words):

The one where Shota Aizawa stumbles upon a back alley full of stray cats and ends up adopting a child

“Fine, then a cat? We both know how much you love those little furry…things.” At this, Shota paused the game and turned to the pushy blonde next to him. “I actually have considered that.” “And?” “And: also, no. It makes no sense.” Hizashi looked almost scandalized. “Makes no sense?” “I made a pro and contra list.” “Of course you did.”

When underground hero Shota Aizawa, twenty-two years old, is out on patrol one Friday evening, he doesn't expect that a single meow from a cat would lead him to find a homeless girl called Yoru. From then on, Yoru and Shota grow up together, make mistakes together, and try to overcome every obstacle life throws at them.

>> Read on AO3 <<

Part Two (Ongoing, regular updates — growing long fic — 327k words so far — READ PART 1 FIRST, PLEASE AND THANK YOU):

The one where Yoru Aizawa tries to navigate through life at U.A.

Two days after her fifteenth birthday, Yoru decides to drop the bomb on him. “I want to go to U.A.” “You want to go to U.A.” Her Dad puts the book he's been reading down on the glass balcony table. “Yes, I want to go to U.A.” She slumps down on the outdoor couch next to him, grabbing the discarded book. “What are you reading?” ‘A Book of Five Rings by Miyamoto Musashi — The classic guide to strategy ’. She raises an eyebrow. “Reading that for fun, huh?” “Why do you want to go to U.A.? You never cared much about heroes. Besides Edgeshot, that is.” Yoru smirks up at him. “What, jealous?” “As if.” “You know, even if they sold Eraserhead posters, I wouldn’t hang them up. It would be super weird.” “Good to know where your loyalties lie.” He rolls his eyes. “Back to the topic at hand, why do you want to go to U.A.? Because Shinso wants to go?” “No.” Pause. “Okay, that may be part of it. But I’m serious. I’ve been thinking about it for a while now, and I really want to go.” “That might be so, but you still neglected to tell me why you want to attend there.” Yoru plays with her hair, noting how it’s time for another hair cut when she finds some splint ends. “I wanna be a hero.” Her Dad blinks. “A hero?” “Yes. Well, I want to help people and do some good with that shitty quirk of mine.”

When Yoru tells her Dad that she wants to attend U.A., she expects it to be a difficult path. She didn't expect all the awkwardness, blossoming friendships, confusing feelings, and near-death experiences, though.

>> Read on AO3 <<

Please heed the warnings/tags (TWs in the author's notes of chapters where they apply to).

Also: because someone asked this before - you can read it as a reader insert if you want. I don't mind at all. Feel free to imagine yourself as part of the story. Just know that Yoru (the OC) will have descriptions of her visual appearance.

This story is a mix of:

Slice of life

Hurt/Comfort

Angst/Fluff

Humor

Dadzawa

SLOW BURN Romance — Enemies to Lovers (Bakugo x Yoru)

SLOW BURN Romance — EraserMic (but it's a subtle slow burn)

Growing up, coming of age (hopefully lol)

Teenage awkwardness

Mixed media (pictures, music, chat screenshots (later on in Part 2), etc. — chat screenshots will always have the written text below, to make it accessible for visually impaired folks or people who use screen readers)

and more...

Author: NoBecksPleaseNo on AO3

Please don't copy or plagiarize the work, the character, the premise, etc. Also, no cross-posting anywhere, please and thank you.

Disclaimer: Yoru's image is AI generated and then edited/adjusted by the author. The other character images in the header are from Pinterest (besides the one of Present Mic/Midnight, that one's from the light novels) — unfortunately without a source. If you're the artist, and you're not okay with me using them, please message me and I will remove them. If you're the artist and are okay with me using them, please tell me, so I can credit you.

Besides the OC characters, I don't own any already existing characters from the My Hero Academia Universe — that honor belongs to Kohei Horikoshi.

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osamucide · 2 months ago

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DAZAI HCS! ⊹

LAST UPDATE: OCT 10

cw: talk of mental illness and substance use/abuse, speculation about Dazai’s f’ed up past+trauma, Dazai-typical references to suicide, references to self harm, probably a lot of projection on the author’s part

reid: i feel like yapping about Dazai tonight so here’s a non-exhaustive list of general headcanons i have about him. no word count because i’ll probably update this periodically lol

he does not listen to music from this century. he just doesn’t. not that he goes out of his way not to, he’s just drawn to a certain sound that only older music seems to have—I think The Smiths, Blondie, Tears For Fears, The Smashing Pumpkins, King Crimson, and Led Zeppelin are among his favorite artists

I think he also really enjoys classic jazz/blues/bebop music—Charles Mingus, Billie Holiday, Duke Ellington, Thelonious Monk, Miles Davis, etc.

he’s anemic. I’m of the firm belief that Kunikida buys him a 100 ct bottle of iron tablets every 100 days which Dazai always graciously accepts. however, he only actually takes them when he gives enough of a shit to (which is not often) so the bottles are just accumulating on his bathroom sink/in the cupboard beneath

nail biter, cuticle picker, hair twirler, thigh bouncer, etc. I don’t think he really sits still unless it’s absolutely necessary

children love him, much to his dismay. they think he’s entertaining. he thinks they’re like puppies (and he canonically hates dogs). he won’t treat them badly, but he’s just not super interested in interacting with them. unwilling older brother vibe when faced with them. shithead kids can stoke his rage much faster than Chuuya ever could

he cannot take care of a fucking plant. has one succulent in his apartment. it’s surviving out of pure unadulterated spite. he hasn’t watered it in over a year

wearer of funky socks. his favorites are either the ones that say "I love my job ha ha just kidding" or the custom ones Yosano got him as a gag gift one year for white elephant at the office christmas party (they have Kunikida’s rage face on them)

really sad that, despite his criminal record being scrubbed clean, he is still banned from driving in the nation of Japan for the rest of his life because he wants a Ford Explorer so bad

PROFOUNDLY SOUND KNOWLEDGE OF MEDICAL TERMINOLOGY

he’s fluent in Japanese and English, proficient in French and Italian, and learning Russian

I think he also enjoys learning math/researching random shit/reading anything he can in his free time when he feels up to it. he never received a formal education and his IQ is through the roof—his yearning for academia is almost like an itch he has to scratch every once in a while. also, he just likes knowing things

he never learned how to ride a bike. wahhhh wahh

BPD king. look at him. my beautiful princess with a disorder. I doubt he’s diagnosed but he strongly suspects it seeing as he’s so self-aware; if not borderline, he just assumes he has severe PTSD. either way, he really won’t do anything other than what he already knows about how to manage it

along the same lines—he’s been a functional alcoholic since an alarmingly young age (I’m talking 16-17). I think it probably got a lot worse post-defection when he was underground, but he hardly had to function then anyway; he gets somewhat better after joining the Agency but still has a dependence, it’s just not severe enough to debilitate him

has a bin of art supplies in his apartment. he only ever pulls them out once every few months, but he rather enjoys painting and wouldn’t mind getting better at it

master at darts. don’t take him to a bar where there’s a dartboard. he will stand in front of it all night and obliterate everyone who challenges him

insatiable sweet tooth. he especially loves anything maple, butter pecan, or butterscotch he’s a grandpa

UPDATE.1

I love to headcanon that he has a glass eye!!! and that the bandages around his head in the dark era were some legitimate injury. he likes to pop it out as a party trick/to weird Kunikida out

he feeds the stray cats and kittens that linger around the ADA dorms. he probably spends some of his grocery money on the fancy wet canned food and leaves it out with a big plastic bowl of water. sometimes sits and watches them eat and likes to give them little scratches if they trust him enough to come rub up on his legs. they’re sort of to him as the orphans were to Odasaku, and it makes him feel closer to his deceased friend

on the note of grocery shopping—he only goes when Atsushi or Kunikida drag him along. keeps his list relatively the same from trip to trip: canned crab, cigarettes, bandages, a few cases of beer, sake, instant ramen, ice cream (particularly butter pecan), paper towels, and 3-in-1 shampoo when he needs it. Kunikida forces vegetables upon him (“put it in the ramen so you don’t die of heart disease”) but they almost always end up rotting to mush in his fridge. he steals his toilet paper from the ADA bathrooms/supply closets or bothers Atsushi and Kyoka for spare rolls when he’s out

religiously orders drinks from the cafe on his way in and out of work. on mornings he usually gets a latte with plenty of sugar and some sort of flavor; in the evenings he probably gets an iced flavored tea to mix or chase his sake with when he gets home

always has a pocket knife on him. probably one he got in his mafia days, or, it’s at least a habit/security he picked up from then

takes a lot of night walks. he doesn’t sleep well, so I think he probably wanders out tipsy with his pack of cigarettes in the wee hours of the morning and scuttles around to tire himself out

UPDATE.2

two words: medical trauma. I know some people get iffy when it comes to speculation about what Mori did/didn’t/may/may not have subjected him too as a young teenager (and believe me I have a lot of thoughts) but I definitely headcanon that Dazai was used as a little bit of a lab rat/sedated and coerced to some degree when it came to turning him into a killing machine. as a result, he’s got a fear of medical settings. after his surgery during the cannibalism arc? I know he got that phone back and was like “Tanizaki get me out of here right neow”

I think sweet little old ladies probably love him and he loves them too. always feels like he strikes up the best small talk with them. will help load groceries into their cars for them. he gets all smiley and stuff when they call him “sweetheart” “honey” “dear” or remark how handsome he is and about his hypothetical girlfriend must be so lucky

he can throw knives with pinpoint accuracy from a pretty impressive distance. he’s a little less accurate with his handgun at long range/with moving targets but HE’S GETTING BETTER

has like a 3.5 ft vertical jump at his best. like why are you a detective when the Lakers need a center

#bsd dazai #bsd osamu dazai #dazai hcs #dazai headcanons #bsd headcanons #bsd hcs #reid speaks.ᐟ #with love—reid

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k-hotchoisan · 9 months ago

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(Updated version because I forgot to add one more detail!) Hello! Can I request an ATEEZ smut based on the song I Want You by SB19? Any member will do please?

Here's the Music Video: https://youtu.be/s25Yi6pZnMs?si= ZpzmmV6Yvy1Wa4bZ

And the sound Audio:

https://open.spotify.com/track /16GGH8OF6LISUTTbm8421f?si= 2zklm5olQIKxp2yodrwv1Q

Note: SB19 is a boy group from the Philippines (Which is my country (I'm born from the Philippines by the way haha))), which they became super popular because of the song "GENTO" (Which the song became super popular they did the dance challenge.) (San did that dance challenge! (https://youtu.be/zn8GzEhPqkl?si= qrHRBKWcasrAW2HC))

Thabk you and have a great time. 🌹

~Queennie

Hey Queennie (and also to my fellow readers) Thank you for waiting for this. I was in a rut and not mentally doing well. I hope you haven’t forgotten about me 😭🩷

Also note: YES IVE HEARD ABOUT SB19!! The song got me side eyeing in the best ways possible HAHAHA

The girl in front of him is stunning, but even when he’s all over her, he can’t seem to get you out of his head. So when his phone buzzes and it’s you, he finds himself standing before you with another chance he’s willing to gamble.

Genres/warnings: smut, angst(?) cream pies, orgasms, unprotected sex, fwb to exes to lovers?, Mingi is actually so hung up on you, reconciliation

🩷 Taglist: @bro-atz @diamond-3 @mcarebearsstuff @choisansplushie @voicesinmyhead-rc @pre1ttyies @hwallazia @songmingisthighs

10 months.

10 months since you both stopped talking.

Mingi thought he’d move on by then. The girl in front of him was absolutely stunning, her hands hanging loosely around his neck. She smells like vanilla, but he feels that it’s overpowering. He can’t really see her under the dim flashing lights of the club, but he doesn’t pull away when her hands pull his neck closer to kiss her.

He tastes the fruity cocktail in between her lips, and he can think about is the taste of yours, the feeling of your lips pressed against his. The mere thought of it quickly turns into something he craves. Something he was deprived of for 10 months. Mingi’s hands that were on her waist shift lower down her sides, while she pulls him closer and deeper into the kiss. She thinks they’re getting lost in it. Mingi is definitely lost, though, not in the kiss.

All he thinks about is how your waist feels when he slowly touches her up, and his cock strains against his jeans when he thinks of the way you would moan in his mouth, while your hands run all over him, and how you’d edge him slowly with your hands around his cock while you make him melt against your lips. He’d always pull back breathless and desperate. Always.

His eyes slowly open when she pulls back.

Fuck.

Mingi feels guilty. It’s as if he’s doing something wrong to you. It’s driving him fucking nuts that he can’t see you, and the worst part of it all is that it was his fault. So damn fucked up that he was the one who initiated to stop whatever the two of you had.

“Mingi”, she calls out and his attention snaps back to her. This is his third date with this chick he met online, but for some reason, she simply looks like a stranger. Her fingers tap along his jaw.

“Should we go your place or mine?” She asks as she tucks a lock of hair behind her ear.

Mingi doesn’t even realise he’s half hard. But she probably did. He weighs his decisions. And then he realises he really wants to fuck.

But fuck her? He’s hesitant. He obviously has someone else in mind.

“Not today. I have plans early tomorrow”, he lies. She’s about to pout and try to convince him, until she’s interrupted by Mingi’s phone buzzing in his pants.

“Sorry, give me a moment”, he pauses to take the call. He puts his cell to his ear and his breath is stuck in his throat when he hears who’s at the other end of the line.

“Yunho…? Could you pick me up?”

Mingi blinks. The fact that you broke the no contact meant that you never blocked him even though you said you would. His heart is racing in his ears.

“Hello? Yunho? Are you there?”

It makes him snap out his trance a little.

“Yeah. Where are you at?”

“Uhh, the family mart near xxx club. I’m tryna sober up.”

You’re near. It’s not too far away.

“Okay. I’ll be there in ten.”

“Thanks. Oh, and don’t tell Mingi.”

That’s all you say before you hang up on him. He’s still in disbelief. No, wait, maybe it’s a chance. He glances down at the girl, who’s starting to look impatient.

“Uh. Something just came up. I’m sorry we had to cut this short but it’s kind of an emergency.”

That’s when Mingi realises he’s a fucking terrible liar.

She rolls her eyes, evidently annoyed at the interference. Mingi doesn’t even let her respond before he nods quickly and disappears into the crowd and out of the club. He knows that this will have repercussions, but it’s one he’s willing to risk.

There you are. Still looking absolutely breathtaking even when you’re trying to keep yourself together despite the alcohol. It was as if the 10 months never happened. He’s breathless from almost sprinting to where you were at.

He stands before you, watching the way you’re scrolling through your phone mindlessly, the light from the screen illuminating the tear stains on your cheeks. Were you crying? He takes a breath, wondering how you’d react to seeing him after 10, long, agonising months.

“Y/n.”

Your eyebrows scrunch for a second at the familiar husky voice. You look up, and your mind blanks out when you see Mingi standing right before you.

“Mingi? What the fuck are you doing here? Did Yuyu send you here? Fucking son of a-“

“It wasn’t Yunho,” Mingi cuts you off. “It was me who you called.”

You blink slowly at him, processing what he just said before narrowing your eyes at him.

“There’s no fucking way. I’m pretty sure I blocked you”, you reply with a frown, before opening your call logs, scrolling through and your frown is replaced quickly with wide eyes and disbelief.

Goddamn, did you sober up quick after that. You glance back at Mingi, who has an unreadable expression on his face. You cover your face with your hands, feeling your face flush, but definitely not from the alcohol this time.

Mingi takes a seat beside you, leaning forward towards you. His heart is racing as fast as a race car right now. It’s been forever since he’s this close to you.

“Ugh. This is so embarrassing”, you mutter in your hands before you drop them to your lap.

“There’s nothing to be embarrassed about”, he assures, which only makes you more flustered and borderline irritated.

“You could have called Yunho. You didn’t have to come”, you jab, not wanting to look at him, because he’s staring at you so intently. To Mingi, at least, you’re like home. The relationship you both had no label, all because he was so fucking foolish for thinking it would never be more than what it was.

He was wrong, clearly, because now he’s here beside you, and he wouldn’t ask for anything else.

He’s determined.

Determined to make things right, at least.

“I was the one who you called, not Yunho,” Mingi replies, unwavering.

“It was a mistake”, you sigh, feeling the tears pool around your eyes. Even though Mingi is the last person on earth you wanted to see now, you can’t help but crave for him.

“No it wasn’t. Do you know what’s an actual mistake?” Mingi retorts back. His back is straightened, and he wears a frown.

Your heartbeat is pounding in your ears. Probably coming over? Probably seeing you again? Probably you? You remember how it started like it was fresh from yesterday—it started when he had trapped you on the couch, his tall frame looming over yours when he was trying to get back at you for teasing him.

Like a spark, it ignited bright and burned like a forest fire. So intense that you couldn’t get him out of your system. You pretended you were okay with the arrangement even though the flames were burning through your feelings too. Everything about it was so addicting. If this was forest fire, you were the moth. Until three months later, he suddenly called it off.

“We should stop. I’m not sure what I want right now.”

You shut your eyes and your head spins. “What?”

Mingi swallows hard before his words leave his mouth, “whatever I said 10 months ago. That was a mistake.”

You scrunch your eyebrows, staring at Mingi. And it was a fucking mistake. He’s looking at you with those fucking puppy eyes he knows you’re weak for. Well, now you’re completely sober. But you don’t follow. Why the fuck is he telling you all of this now?

“Elaborate”, you challenge, facing the male.

Mingi covers it up very well but you can tell that he’s getting nervous and flustered.

“Calling it off. It was a mistake,” he answers, his fists balling.

You scoff, even though your heart is bursting. No, you’re not surrendering to him. Not yet. “You’re telling me this now? Weren’t you seeing someone?”

“Was”, he replies a little too quickly, a little too enthusiastically. “Then you called.”

There is a drawn out silence between the both of you momentarily.

“Let’s go. I’ll bring you home, y/n.”

You stare at him for a moment as another load of silence follows. You know it’s a bad idea. You know you shouldn’t let him in again.

Mingi seems to pick up on your concern and distance, and especially your coldness. “I won’t do anything to you. I promise. I’ll leave if you want me to. But it’s not safe for you to just be alone here.”

You know he’s right. He may be an asshole for doing what he did but at least you know Mingi is a man of his word.

His hand is outstretched towards you, and you hesitantly let your fingers graze against his palm. Mingi swears he feels electricity shoot down his spine just from your touch, and a simple one—just a soft brush of your fingers has him ready to be on his knees for you.

You let go quickly when you regain composure and follow Mingi to his car.

The ride back is quiet, much to your relief, letting you sober up as you let the cold night wind brush along your cheeks. What you don’t realise is the amount of glances Mingi casts you when he stops at the red light, and he sees the soft glow of your tear stains.

Mingi pulls over, and as before you could unbuckle the seatbelt with your own two hands, Mingi’s big frame looks over you, his face inches away from you. His gaze catches yours and you hold a breath, expecting him to do something.

Which he does—unbuckle your seat.

In truth, Mingi really wants to kiss you. So bad. To feel you up. He’s so starved it’s insane how he survived ten whole months after foolishly breaking off something that shouldn’t even mean anything. Something that was just simply casual.

“I won’t lay a finger on you if you don’t want me to”, Mingi reminds you as he pulls the car door open for you to leave.

At your doorstep, he doesn’t leave just yet though. He haphazardly dumps his keys onto the little tray you have to hold yours. You don’t say anything. After all, this place was once where he resided with you. He knew it like the back of his hand.

Just like you.

It’s a hard feeling to shake, you think. The familiarity rushes back to you, as if the 10 months never happened. You wish it didn’t.

You push past him and he watches you (thankfully) walk a straight line towards your bathroom. He lets you freshen up, and tells himself he won’t stay for too long—just long enough to make sure you’re alright and going to sleep in peace. He shuts his eyes for a while, letting the soft, cold blows of the air conditioner prick his cheeks.

You step out of the shower, and you see him sprawled on the couch, his slow breaths heavy and steady. Despite every bone in your body telling you not to, you take a seat beside him. He stirs slightly before his sleepy eyes meet yours, barely open before he turns away, combing back his hair.

“You shouldn’t drive if you’re tired, Mingi”, you say. “Go take a shower. I’ll pass you your clothes.”

A prick blooms at the corner of your heart when you say that. You never had the courage to contact Mingi to return his clothes when he was staying over. You were sure you had your clothes kept at his place too. Mingi nods as he leaves for the bathroom, leaving you with your web of thoughts. The resentment was boiling whenever you thought about it, and especially when you are in your room, pulling out the lowest drawer and reluctantly reaching out to feel the fabric that Song Mingi wore, some you wore too and you knew he loved it when you did that.

How did you let him lure you into a situation ship like this?

You dump his clothes onto the counter and climb onto your bed. There was no awkwardness, just tension, and a lot of unspoken words. Words that you were determined to pull out of him so you could finally move on in peace.

There he was, leaving the shower looking like a whole new person. His eyes look a lot softer now, accompanying his damp hair when he has his make up removed. He doesn’t get on the bed.

“What are you trying to get at, Song Mingi?” You question, your eyes darting to him, your fingers tugging each other in anxiety. “We weren’t anything to begin with.”

Mingi presses his lips before he speaks, making sure he doesn’t say it wrongly. “I’m not over you.”

He says it with such distinction that you’re almost taken aback. He catches your confused gaze. But he continues.

“I can’t move on.”

You only scoff. “And that’s my problem, because?”

It’s only then he slowly inches towards you, and you’ve never seen it before in his eyes—desperation?

But you hate that you’re feeling the exact same way. Deep inside you wonder if things could go back to the way they were.

“No. That’s my problem, y/n.” Mingi responds, his finger nervously pinching against the bedsheets. “I’m still hung up over you even after all of this.”

It’s a trap. A trap so big and obvious that a bear could fucking see it from a mile away.

“I shouldn’t have said what I said. I was immature and confused about where that would have gone”, he sighs. “Especially during all the days you’d spend with me. And before I realised what I had done, I had already fallen for you, so hard.”

Your eyes narrow.

“Coward”, you spit, knowing you were in the exact predicament, for a spilt second, on the end of being foolish—thinking that it had meant something to him.

His fingers brushed against yours, his eyes wandering to your figure as more tears stream down your face. Why were you even crying again? He’s obviously playing around with you.

Mingi is on the bed now, inches away from you, his hands gently lifting your face, his thumbs brushing away the burning tears.

“I’m sorry that I hurt you. Out of every mistake I’ve made with you, this was the worst.”

You’re lured into his pretty eyes again, like a puppy begging for forgiveness. You grow so weak every time. You press the side of your cheek onto Mingi’s large and warm hands, the comfort of it never once foreign to you. He brushes his thumb against your cheek.

And Mingi then decides to just throw all of his cards in, his heart like sledgehammer as he lets those words slip from his lips.

“Tell me you want me”, Mingi whispers, his fingertips brushing against your neck to hold your gaze with his—so intense, so overwhelming. “And I’ll be yours.”

Such an obvious trap.

“I want you”, you whisper back, looking at him through your wet lashes.

Mingi feels his heart pounding and fireworks explode in his head. He was ready for you to push his hands away, chase him out, tell him you never want to see him again.

Mingi glances down at your lips and then back into your eyes, before you shut yours and let him completely trap you. Rash decision, stupid decision — your mind is screaming at you while you’re tasting the memories Mingi left you in his kiss. His hands slide down your back, letting lie down properly onto the bed. He pauses in to take in the sight of you—so endearing and gentle. He feels that he should be jailed for wanting to ruin it all and keep it for himself. The thought that no other men could have you like this comforts him, for now, at least.

Mingi tugs against your nightwear, lifting it over your head in one swift gesture before he’s back to kissing you with much desperation. There it is. Your taste. The only one that matters for the rest of his life. His cravings will never be satisfied. If it’s you, he wants more, more, more.

He pulls back, watching the way you’re so flushed and gorgeous. He turns you around, letting your shoulder hit his chest and he presses against you, his erection enough to convey how he feels, that’s for sure.

His fingers brush so lightly against your shoulders, the electric running down your back until he reaches your waist.

“I love you. I adore you”, he hums into your ear, melting every and any sense of rationale that remained in you, no answer but soft whimpers escape your lips as he kisses the nape of your neck to your shoulders, his fingers wet with spit, rolling your nipples in between them. Jagged breaths are the only thing that barely keep you intact for now, before your head is on his shoulder, begging for him.

“It’s been awhile. Don’t you think that’ll be a tight fit, baby?” Mingi questions, his boxers now off and his cock pressing hard against your ass.

You squeeze your thighs in response at the thought of his cock just splitting you open like before. It’s so tempting.

You feel something press against your wet folds, and it’s his fingers. Mingi’s free hand coaxes your thighs to open up and relax for him as his fingers slip right into your sopping cunt, and you gasp. Mingi’s arm snakes around your waist, and one of your opened leg is trapped by Mingi—he’s making sure you don’t close, not until he makes you cream and scream everywhere. You palm against his bare erection, pumping him so painfully slow for the sake of listening to his low, breathy groans right in your ear. He never fails to tell you how much he loves it—when you flick your wrist teasingly at make sure he hears the wet squelching sounds. But for now, your concentration is everywhere, especially when Mingi is stuffing you full with two of his fingers, brushing teasingly against the spongy spot he knows that drives you up the wall.

Your eyes flutter open, completely letting go of his cock. “M-Mingi”, you squeal when his fingers not only curl against the spongy area, but also repetitively fucks your pretty hole stupid, cream completely staining his fingers as it only lubes your clit for him to rub his finger on. Your mind is in a haze, only the thought of letting Mingi finger fuck an orgasm out of you prominent.

So good that you try to wipe the drool seeping past your lips. The feeling builds up so quickly, Mingi notices the way you’re clenching around your fingers. The way you’re grabbing onto his arm and pressing your face into his neck, telling him, “cumming. I’m cumming, Mingi. Fuck me”, was enough for him to pull his fingers out, and stuff his cock in—while you were still mid orgasm, clenching and fluttering with his cock in you. Mingi has his eyes rolled back at the sensation of you just clenching around him, giving your clit wet circular movements to send you over the fucking moon. You’re barely down from your high, panting when you realise that Mingi is inching himself inside you.

Your breath is stuck in your throat when his cock is fully in you, all the way to the brim. Mingi sighs in pleasure—this is what he loves. This is the familiarity he could never get tired of—or rather—crave so fucking badly.

Your mind had completely been melted. Sex with Mingi was always so mind blowing. You hate to swear that you would never get enough. His cock is so big and you love how well he fits into you, and his comments of, “fit me so fucking good, baby. I think if I move I’ll just cum”, as he hisses and forces himself to hold back for bursting.

Mingi’s fingers press against your jaw, your attention seeping back to him. He looks at you lovingly before he watches your face contort with pleasure the moment he pulls back, then fucks you with a thrust.

“You don’t know how much I want you”, he whines, even with his cock just pounding into you from below. “I promise I’ll treat you better. Love you better. Fuck you better.”

You’d let Mingi do whatever he wanted with you. That’s the honest fucking truth. You know you were gonna regret this. Everything is screaming at you at one moment and then completely muted when Mingi’s husky voice lulls you over.

“That’s my good girl. Oh god. You’re good at taking my cock.”

Heaven would jealous at how good you’re feeling being fucked by Song Mingi.

You tremble slightly, more tears pooling at the corner of eyes. Not from sadness or melancholy. The only kind that Mingi is able to pull out from you when his cock is deep inside you.

“It’s okay. That’s a good girl. Let it go for me”, he hums into your ear, his arms holding you down despite the fact that your orgasm is hitting you in waves, spots of white bursting into your eyelids as you feel tour cunt convulse against Mingi’s cock, cream just gathering at the base of his dick as he still continues to jut his cock right into you, sending your legs shaking with pleasure. He swears he wants to record your orgasms and seal it somewhere where only he can access it. He could get addicted.

His thrusts turn more desperate. The loud sounds of wet cock fucking a wet pussy echoing around the walls while you’re crying Mingi’s name.

“That’s a good princess”, he assures, rubbing your thighs, even though sticky with fluids before he thrusts himself right into you for the final time, your legs trembling.

“So much. Mingi, that’s so much”, you swallow hard as you feel him pump his cum right into you. Even that feels so fucking heavenly.

“It’s all for you, princess. We can keep going. I’ll always have more for you. So much that it’ll leak out of your pretty hole for days on end”, he utters so softly in your ear. Your eyes are still glazed from the mind-numbing pleasure. The last thing you could remember was a kiss planted on your forehead before a muffled “Goodnight”, before you completely doze off, your worries saved for the next day.

Morning kicks in, and your eyes are barely able to open, the exhaustion weighing on you from the previous night, so does the realisation. Fuck. You rise up, your hand on your forehead. Then you realise another thing—the other half of your bed is empty. You reach out to your phone on the nightstand—no messages either. Frustration builds in your body. But this time, it was your own foolishness to blame you think to yourself, as you slide off the bed, the soreness of your lower body a burning reminder of what transpired the night before. Instead of the bitterness that lingers in your mouth, you wonder if that should have been your closure.

Freshened up, you walk to your kitchen area to grab a meal, and your eyes widen.

Mingi stands there, pulling the plastic cover off. He pauses briefly when his eyes meet yours.

“Hey. Good morning”, Mingi greets, his morning voice dropping an octave lower. He seems completely fine, as long as you aren’t able to hear his heartbeat going at miles per hour. Would you just chase him out? Would you promise to never see him again? His mouth is dry again, even though he’s had a couple of glasses of water thinking about what to say to you.

“I bought takeout. Come and have some”, he gestures. You don’t question it, taking the seat across him. You follow his movements—the way he settles the utensils—handing you yours first, before he pours you a cup of water. Then he sits himself comfortably.

There is another moment of silence before you speak up.

“About last night…”

You see the grip on his chopsticks tighten.

“Wasn’t a mistake either”, he says, his gaze trailing the food before he meets yours.

“Is it?” You reply, shoving a couple of egg rolls into your mouth. You didn’t expect that answer from him.

“I thought I could move on. But no matter how many girls I came across, it was always you. No one felt as right as you did. I was scared before, but I’m not now.”

You can’t meet his eyes. You’re unsure if it’s because of swirl of emotions that have started bubbling, or because you’ve denied it for so long, that it’s beginning to slowly bleed out.

“Let me make it up to you. For the 10 months”, Mingi professes. “If you’ll have me.”

You finally are able to hold his gaze. Your mind is swimming is dopamine, but you’re not about to let him have the satisfaction, just yet. A small smile curls at the corner of your lips.

“Then you better do a good job.”

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tfyoulookingatgiuxs · 3 months ago

Text

So Hargrove...can I be your favorite?

Billy Hargrove x Female!Reader

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: At a party of the most popular girl in school, as well as your class, you find yourself letting yourself go, and maybe even a little too much...

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: SMUT!!! +18!!!, Female!reader, Fuckboy!Billy, drunk sex, oral (female receives), overstimulation, begging, dirty talking, squirting, blood, violence, fights, alchol, themes about sex, bad language, some fluff, everything is consensual!!!

𝐀/𝐍: I haven't updated in a while, I know. I'll try to be more present and update and write more! Meanwhile, here's something about Billy, since I don't write much about him. Remember that you can ask me to write something else about this character as well as others! Sorry for my english this is not my native language. Please support new writers and reblog! Hope you enjoy! (DIVIDER NOT MINE)

You don't know what made you go there. You weren't much of a party person, much less the idea of trying to go to one. But this time it was different. You were convinced by your friends, but above all by Nancy Wheeler. She wanted to go because her boyfriend Steve Harrington was going to be there, and apparently Billy Hargrove was going to be there too. You didn't know how Nancy found out about your secret crush, and yet there she was, snidely telling you that Hargrove was going to show up at Stacy's Halloween-themed party. You had always been a bit like "Princess Nancy Wheeler", the quiet one, who got good grades and seemingly never made mistakes. You knew the popular people at Hawkins High, in the end they were all the same: good reputation, good looks, surrounded by friends and excellent charisma. However, people like that turn out to be too superficial for you, and Harrington was an example. You had never liked him, it was always the same as someone who thought he was someone because he was rich, even if after what happened with Nancy he seemed to have changed, but what he had done to your best friend was difficult to forgive.

But Billy, even though he seemed more dense than Harrington, left you under his spell. You hadn't been the usual admirer watching him from afar, but you had opportunities to talk to him. He was really an asshole, you could admit it, but you sensed that he wasn't doing well at home. What he was able to reply to you, however, was a "get out of the way" with a threatening attitude. There was no bad blood between you, but you couldn't deny that he wasn't beautiful, you were also sorry that he felt this hatred towards you. But then why were you going to the party? What were you hoping to do? Just to have fun? But then why did you agree to go to the party just because Billy would be there? Questions that were difficult to answer, but maybe drinking and having fun to the rhythm of music would have been better instead of going to your head.

You both rushed to the house, was the whole school there? Hell, there were so many people and the house wasn't even big enough to contain all those people. Nancy was wearing a simple white shirt and black trousers and an adorable hairstyle, while you didn't really want to be Halloween themed so you sported a simple colored t-shirt and a black skirt, just so as not to attract too much attention. You entered and the music immediately brightened your mood, you and Nancy immediately catapulted onto the dance floor, or at least that's what you nicknamed it. Steve still hadn't arrived and you took the opportunity to dance with Nancy. Then she would go and make out with Steve and do who knows what. You would be alone, and you would wonder as you danced what you would do in that time. You could have made friends with someone, even if you think these drunk people can't be the typical friends you always wanted. You could have walked around the yard, which wasn't a bad idea, but you calculated the likelihood of finding a mass of people screaming for alcohol. You wonder what I actually came to do. Just to keep Nancy company until Steve showed up? Oh no. You let yourself be convinced, for whom? For Billy. You could just imagine drunk Billy screaming like a five year old. As much as the image made you laugh, you didn't want to think about it.

"Hey girls!" Steve Harrington shows up wearing sunglasses (what is he doing with sunglasses if it's dark?) and his usual grin when he sees Nancy as fresh as a newly bloomed flower. You and Nancy say hello to the handsome boy. You hear little because of the music but you can communicate.

“How's it going out there?” You ask since you were opting to take a quiet walk.

"They've gone absolutely crazy, ever since that dickhead Billy Hargrove became the 'new king' everyone seems to be drooling over him, even the boys, dammit!" Steve makes quotation marks with his fingers and you heard annoyance in those words. Steve is now no longer the most popular student, he has decided to take away this role now defined by him as useless, but you learned through Nancy, that Steve is targeted by him and mocks him for being the former king of Hawkins High. Billy could be a real bastard, and you experienced it yourself. You decided you wanted to drop the topic as you didn't want to start talking about him, but instead you talked about the owner of the house and what her parents thought about it, and more importantly whether she'll be able to clean up the mess before her parents get back. You, Steve and Nancy danced a little. It was pretty depressing since you were the third wheel, but you didn't let your best friend know about it. You were having fun until: "Steve and I are going away for a moment, we'll be right back" You were screwed. You would have been alone for hours in the middle of, perhaps, the whole school. You nodded, and thought "But yeah, I'll be fine" the biggest lie you could tell yourself.

You've been around the house for who knows how long. In the end your suspicions were true. Steve and Nancy were having sex in the bathroom. Let's say it wasn't that hard for you to hear "Oh Steve!" Beyond the door. You wished you hadn't heard it. The music apparently wasn't loud enough...

You took refuge in the kitchen, near the thousand beer bottles and red plastic cups. At that table in the middle of the kitchen there were all the alcohol possible and imaginable. However this didn't matter to you, this was because you heard some noise. The usual group accompanied by, guess? Oh, right. Billy Hargrove came toward the kitchen. He had an unbuttoned dark shirt that showed off his sculpted muscles. You were seriously speechless, and you couldn't take your eyes off his chest. Now you remembered why you were there. Billy. Jesus Christ! Even though he was a piece of shit, Billy was seriously handsome and sexy. He shifted his gaze towards you, and you swore those crystal blue eyes of his pierced you. You craved it. Even though he hated you, you wanted to be his favorite. You didn't know what you would do to become one, but you would try. The two of you looked at each other for what seemed like an eternity, until a voice made you turn around.

"Are you here too?" A familiar boy's voice made you put your feet back on the ground. You recognized Scott, your former classmate. He flunked out and you didn't know much about him, you never ran into him. You thought because, as usual, he didn't come to school because he didn't feel like it.

"Hi Scott. Yes, I let myself be convinced, but you never stopped attending parties" You replied, taking a glass and pouring some alcohol into it, you would never have imagined taking that step except that same evening. He chuckled.

“Yes, well, every now and then I like to meet new people, and see familiar people again” he smirked at you. You were quite embarrassed because you never expected to meet him again. Scott wasn't the kind of guy you hung out with, he was just lazy and did nothing but make fun of others. You had the opportunity to talk to him because he was the one who spoke to you, and also because every now and then you carried out group tasks together, even if in the end you always had to do everything alone because he didn't bother doing his. His green eyes sized you up as Billy's group had gotten even closer to you. Apparently they were eager to make use of the beer on the table. You heard Billy's voice behind you, you were back to back. Only space limited your backs from touching. Scott seemed quite annoyed by their presence.

"Come with me, it's too loud here" he pointed to the group and made a face to mock them. Should you have laughed? You don't know. But that didn't excite you. At first you shook your head no. Oddly enough, you were safe in the company of the slightly drunk Billy group, who in the company of Scott. But he grabbed your wrist and dragged you away.

"Hey!" You exclaimed to Scott and bumped into some people on the way. You've heard people behind you say things like, "Oh look! They're having fun." or "Those two are going to fuck!" and annoyed people say "Be careful you pieces of shit!"

You tried to escape the hold, but Scott was stronger than you. Scott wasn't responding and was intent on taking you to a room of his choice, which worried you. Then you felt a strong grip on your shoulder and a large hand release Scott's grip. Billy was next to you and he looked furious. Scott turned around with his head held high.

“Get the fuck off Hargrove!” He told him.

“Let her go Smith, and you will be spared,” he almost whispered. Meanwhile the music was always at full volume and people didn't seem to notice. But it was as if in that large living room there were only you, Scott and Billy, and no one else.

"You think you're scaring me? It's none of your business, now get the fuck out" Scott repeated in a threatening manner and you felt yourself sinking. He was perhaps the first person who dared to insult Hargrove with such superiority. Billy laughed his smirk as his golden curls fell forward.

“You touch her again, and I swear I'll slaughter you Smith” He threatened him and your cheeks turned red. He was saving you, like an angel sent from heaven, even though he is not a real angel. From that threat you thought Scott would listen but he looked at Billy and forcefully grabbed your wrist again pulling you towards him. Billy was faster though. He pushed you aside and the two fell to the ground causing everyone's attention. Scott was punched repeatedly while trying miserably to counter punch. His group basically encouraged him to do more, as apparently most people did. You were paralyzed and decided to leave.

You locked yourself in a bedroom. Probably in that of the owner's parents, but you didn't care. You wanted to leave. Coming to the party had been a bad idea, plus the alcohol was floating in your stomach making your head hurt. You still couldn't believe what had happened. You wish Nancy would come to you and say "Let's go home, it's getting late" but apparently she doesn't seem to want to do that. Exactly five minutes passed, and you heard the door open and Billy come in with a bloody nose, as well as shattered knuckles.

"Are you okay?" He asked. Apparently the achol hurts him if he asks you these questions. You nodded. His gaze didn't seem to convey any kind of emotion, but damn it intrigued you. “I butchered it, like I said” He continued.

"Did you have fun?" You ask sarcastically as you sit next to the double bed and he does the same.

“Yes, I always hated him” You had never thought that there was hatred between Scott and Billy, although the moment they spoke to each other and Scott's annoyed look towards his group, should have helped you understand it.

"Is he okay?" You asked worried though.

"Yes princess, the limp little cock is fine. Next time he will learn not to force you to do anything" You look at him strangely. You wanted to start an argument because of the nickname, but you let it go.

"He didn't force me to do anything" Reply.

"So you're telling me that you agreed to be dragged into a room like that?" His sentence leaves you speechless. He was right. You didn't know what Scott had in mind, but you certainly didn't want to find out. He let out a small laugh throwing his head back looking at you. “Oh Y/N, you can see everything on your face” Your cheeks are flushed. Anything?

"It is not true!" You were quite annoyed.

"Shall we test?"

"Alright!" you accepted the challenge.

"Let's see... you definitely let Harrington's girl convince you. You've never touched alcohol until this evening, and besides, all you do is desire me" He said confidently. You were absolutely amazed by his abilities to understand you.

"This isn't true!"

“Don’t lie to me” He replied seriously and you looked at him. You couldn't help but love eyes and lips like those, and he knew it. "I told you, you can see it in your face. You want me, even when you looked at me before. You were like, stubborn. Wanting me close. Like, I wanted you to be my favorite" Your heart has lost a heartbeat and your head still hurt from the alcohol, you also noticed Billy's shining eyes, also under the influence. You wanted to admit it. But you knew you couldn't be. Billy had been with many women and it was impossible that you, overnight, would become his favorite.

"I can't. I'll never be..." The words left your mouth and Billy stared at you for a while.

"Why not? Beacuse I had sex with everyone?" He stated. You nodded and he chuckled. "It doesn't mean anything. That's because I don't want relationships. So, we can do this: tonight you can be my favorite" He offered. And you, a model young student, intelligent and kind. How can you not accept a request like that? "Come on, I know you want it. I already know you're mine. When I saw you with Scott my patience was at its limit. Scott can't have the opportunity to fuck someone like you. I just had to, and no one else "You glared at him.

"Afterwards you know I'm going to insult you like there's no tomorrow?" You asked him.

"Yes, I know. But I don't mind" he smiled and you strangely did the same thing.

"So Hargrove...can I be your favorite?" He showed his white teeth and his hand caressed your cheek.

“Always,” he said and then pulled you into a passionate kiss. A kiss that seemed to only exist in films or soap operas. This wasn't your idea of the timid Billy Hargrove, but you didn't mind it, on the contrary, it excited you. You were sure that Billy was drunk, but you were sober enough to understand the desire that loomed in your body. The need for his skin on yours, and discovering the secrets beneath his robes. The kiss went from sweet and provocative to slowly becoming more frenetic and passionate. You immediately tangled your hands in his golden curls, feeling the softness. What was happening? Was this seriously happening? Even if it was just for one night, you wished it would last forever. The kiss stopped by slowly separating your lips, just enough time to admire each other. Then his grin. That grin that conquered every girl on the face of the earth. His rough hands reached under your shirt pulling it up. Underneath you had a lovely white bra that framed your boobs perfectly.

"Wow..." he managed to exclaim. He had certainly seen a lot of women in bras, maybe even sexier ones like those with lace. But his reaction seemed unique to you.

"What? You've never seen a woman in a bra?" You asked him in almost a whisper.

"Sure, but they all wore the usual sexy bras to impress. You, on the other hand, are just normal. I've never gone to bed with someone who wore a simple, normal bra. You're just as I expected..." He said while he caressed your breasts, feeling their softness. You let out a few sounds "sweet and adorable Y/N Williams. I understand why Scott wanted to fuck you so much. Too bad..." He stopped walking closer to you. Your lips inches apart and you swear you felt your pussy clench around nothing, but craved to feel it at any cost "...girls like you just need to feel the vein of my cock pulsing inside them, and nothing else, right Williams?" those dirty but exciting words made you blush. He could be blunt with his words, but you didn't mind. You nodded “Good then let me show you how I treat my favorites” He said as in one move he undid your bra revealing your hard nipples. His hands were quick to tease them as his plump lips began to kiss your neck softly and then leave a few marks. You decided to let go, to enjoy the moment. Your soft moans raised the boy's erection. You wanted to take the initiative, you took off Billy's jacket showing his powerful shoulders and sculpted muscles while your knee rubbed against the erection covered by the trousers. Billy let out a moan as he left you one last hickey. He grinned.

“It's okay, I heard you,” he whispered next to your neck.

“Please…” His head was spinning. You don't think you've ever wanted sex so much.

"Lie down on that bed like a good girl" he ordered you, and who were you to tell him no? You got up and lay on your stomach, still wearing your skirt. Billy admired you, already knowing that you were his, that tonight Billy Hargrove would take your virginity without being told twice. He caressed your thigh and noticed your white panties with a wet puddle in the center.

"You're already wet, is this the effect I have on you?" You nodded “You need to talk to me” he said seriously.

“Yes Billy” You replied looking at him between your legs. He parted them and started touching the wet spot with his finger making you jump. Your reaction made the boy sneer. His thumb then started rubbing on your clit still covered by the fabric, meanwhile delicate moans led you to close your legs slightly.

“Don't try it” He exclaimed, opening your legs again, this time even more. A groan escaped you. All that pleasure his thumb gave to your clit wasn't enough, as exciting and cute as it was, it wasn't exactly what you expected. But if you know Billy well, you know he can be full of surprises. Your breaths quickened and the boy's eyes didn't move from your face, now lost in the pleasure of his touch. You threw your head back feeling his thumb rub more intensely.

"Billy—" You said his name and then made more lewd sounds. He smiled.

"What is it? Do you want me to stop?" He said it in a strange tone. He knew the answer very well, he was just waiting for it.

“No. More–” You started to move. He laughed and stopped.

“I think she is ready now” He said and began to peel off your soaked panties. Meanwhile you tried to return to planet earth, and recover from the pleasure of before and focus on Billy who throws the garment away on the floor and buries his face between your legs. Without even saying anything, Billy started devouring them. His tongue played with your entrance as he held you in place with your large, strong hands. You threw your head back again feeling a different heat, a different pleasure. It was perhaps even better than his thumb. Up and down, continuously and then the most beautiful part: when those plump lips of his sucked your sensitive spot until you moaned louder. You continued to move, driven by the electric shocks that Billy gave you, then you buried your hand in his golden curls, feeling their softness.

“Fuck, your pussy tastes so good…I could devour it for hours” He almost whispered as he sank his hunger into your wet pussy again. Meanwhile you had become a mess. Billy's grip was strong on your thighs, you were sure that the mark would remain tomorrow. Plus, the heat was building and you felt like you were reaching your limit. You could only scream his name and pray he wouldn't stop.

“Bi—uh-fuck yeah” You tightened your grip and swore you heard him moan. You took a deep breath and tears began to roll down your face. You were reaching your limit and Billy noticed.

"Come on my face. Show me how much you love being my favorite" That's all you needed. You rolled your eyes back and that sweet warmth with Billy's tongue was the best thing you could feel. Your pussy tightened around the boy's tongue and when he stood up, for a moment you had his lips, as well as his nose and cheeks, soaked in your juice. You closed your eyes for a moment trying to catch your breath.

“Good girl,” you heard him and then felt the tingling of his curls still between your legs.

"Ah—" You grabbed and wrinkled the sheets of the bed as soon as you felt that feeling of pleasure again. Without even warning, Billy had started devouring you again. You wanted to stop him to give yourself time to recover, but then you saw him and the pleasure began to take possession of your body again. You fell back onto the soft mattress and started groping your tits while moaning with pleasure. If that meant being Billy Hargrove's favorite then you were committed to always being that. Your hard nipple was being touched by your fingers as Billy's tongue continued to dance on your poor tortured pussy. You had already had your first orgasm and soon you would have another, yes, Billy was full of surprises, he knows how to treat virgins well.

"You wanted more didn't you? Am I giving you what you wanted, or would you like me to stop?" That tone again. You hated it, but damn it I now had full power over you.

"No, don't stop! Please–" You begged trying to insert your hand into his hair. He took it, pressing his thumb into his palm.

“Please what?”

"Give me more. Make me come again, I want more" You were addicted to him by now. Billy Hagrove played like a continuous melody in your head. He laughed amusedly and went back to sucking and playing with your pussy lips, but this time the biting started too. Like a ferocious animal he began to nibble on your clit and you let out certain moans that did nothing but excite him. Billy had become a serious wild animal with his face buried in your pussy and you were at his service to satisfy him. Your grip on his curls tightened, and for a moment you swore you saw stars. You felt the wetness of your tears on the sides of your jaw which had intensified and made your vision blurry, but you only thought about wanting more, you were getting closer and closer and your lips began to say what your brain thought.

“Yesyesyesyesyesyes—oh fuck, Billy please don’t stop” You begged him and the excitement was at its peak. He groaned in response. However, the overstimulation was starting to burn and you couldn't take it anymore. Your second orgasm hit you and Billy pulled away from you admiring his masterpiece, all the wetness dripping down to your ass and obviously soaking the sheet. You had the chance to catch your breath and watch Billy's expression as he cleaned himself with his hand, and taste your juice through his fingers once again.

"Yes, you're my favorite Williams" you smiled at those words "But now you'd better get a hold of yourself, because soon you'll be doing much more than making those virginal noises of yours" He began, and you closed your eyes letting yourself be carried away by the night full of passion.

#Spotify #stranger things #billy hargrove imagine #billy hargrove x reader #stranger things billy #billy hargrove #billy hargrove smut #billy hargrove stranger things #smut #billy coded

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ladykailitha · 2 months ago

Text

Icarus Part 18

Hey, guys! I'm back!!! I had a great and very productive hiatus, the results of which can be found here.

But tl;dr is that this story is complete, so it will be regularly updated on Sunday until it's done. Then I will release the story that started this all "The Rise of The Fallen" in two parts, also on Sundays. Which will take us all the to December, if you can believe it.

I'm still working on the other stories and at least The Hellfire Exotic Club (stripper), The Caged Bird Still Sings (sugar!baby), and Of Butterflies and Backstrokes (Olympic swimmer) are all going to be fairly long so that should be exciting. Then I'll be working on the fun little game show story now called "A Love Connection". Which won't come out until one of the others ends. Sorry. But WIP Wednesday will show you teases of it until then.

I recommend rereading the previous chapter to refresh your memory and away we go!

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17

Steve was riding on the best high. Their next song was “Kiss the Boys/Kiss the Girls”. The song was about finding love in whatever form that took. With a full verse on non-binary folks, despite the title. There was nothing in the world that could compare to crowds screaming your name. It didn’t even matter that the name they were screaming wasn’t Steve, it was Abbadon.

He stumbled into the green room that had all their stuff in it. Corroded Coffin had taken the stage and him and his boys were relaxing with their masks off, Hopper at the door.

“I’ve never been so nervous in my life!” Shane said after downing an entire water bottle. “That crowd was massive! And diverse! Usually we just get college aged kids but there were literal kids out there and old time rockers too.”

“Shit, yeah,” Spence said, pushing his hood off his head to splash a little water on his head. He didn’t have a spotlight on him but wearing all black still made for a hot set.

Shane laid down on the floor, sprawled out spread eagle. “Is this is what real fame is like?”

Steve slid off the chair he was sitting in, to sit next to him. “God, I have such mixed feelings about that if it is. Because the energy was off the charts and I’m pretty sure I sung my heart out...”

“But you aren’t sure you keep up with it for the whole tour?” Simon asked quietly.

Steve threw his head back to rest on the seat of the chair. “Yeah. I don’t want to burn out before I turn thirty, you know?”

“You should talk to Eddie about what they do not to burn out,” Spence suggested. “Because they’ve been doing this for ten years and longer tours than this.”

Steve hummed his agreement.

Suddenly there was a knock on the door. “Celeste, incoming,” Hopper muttered, before opening the door.

Anyone in view of the door, put their mask over their face and then off again when the door closed behind their manager.

“Good job, guys,” Robin said cheerily and sat down on the floor between Shane and Steve. “I just got off the phone with Vickie and she says social media is going batshit insane about the song and Steve’s intro. And it’s good. Like really good. There are some assholes, but it seems that even the media and music critics are calling it the next gay anthem.”

“What are they saying?” Simon asked, sitting up on the sofa and scooting to the edge.

Robin grinned. “This is my favorite one: Heaven is where the assholes are, we always knew all the good people were in hell. Keep up the good work, Abbadon and all of the rest of The Fallen. From Metallica’s official Twitter.”

The room was deathly silent for all of two seconds before they all erupted into gleeful screams. They all jumped on her and started hugging her tightly.

“Get off me! Get off me!” she shrieked. “You’re all sweaty and gross!”

They deliberately smeared themselves all over her before they got off, giggling like children.

“Boys!” she huffed dramatically. “So gross. I swear you lot don’t grow up you just get older.”

Steve leaned over and gave a huge kiss on the cheek. “Probably, but you wouldn’t love us if we were any different.”

Robin swiped her cheek in an exaggerated fashion. “Maybe, but boys are still gross.” She went on to tell them all things that Vickie was sending her about the world’s reaction to the song.

Then after a while she bumped into Steve’s shoulder. “Go on. I know you want go watch some of the show, I’ll hold down the fort here.”

Steve smiled at her and gave her shoulder a squeeze. He got to his feet and put his mask back on. After checking to make sure no one was in view, he knocked on the door for Hopper to let him out.

Once the door closed, Robin let out a long sigh. “I worry about those two.”

“Who?” Shane said, sitting up for the first time. “Steve and Eddie? Why?”

She nodded, pulling her knees up to her chest and tucking her chin between her knees. “Being in the closet is hard. And I know Abbadon has come out, but he’s still in the ‘closet’ as it were about his identity and Eddie and Steve having to hide their relationship on top of Steve hiding who is... let’s just say that great relationships then theirs have crumbled under the pressure.”

The room was silent as they all took that in.

“Are we just doomed from having relationships?” Spence asked. “Are we all destined to be lonely?”

Simon’s lips quivered. “I hate that I have all these women throwing themselves at me but they really don’t care who’s under the mask.”

“I hit up every gay bar in every city we tour in as me,” Shane muttered picking at the skin around his nails, “and I don’t know if it’s worse they don’t know who I am than if I had gone as Astraeus.”

“I’m trying to have a girlfriend,” Spence said bitterly, “but all I can tell her is that I travel for work. And yeah it’s new enough she isn’t asking as what, but how much longer can I dodge that question?”

Robin let out another sigh. “I know, and it’s not as though I can really date either. Are they dating the goofy lesbian Robin, or the sophisticated fashion plate, Celeste? But with Eddie I think Steve has it harder.”

“It’s because Eddie is famous, huh?” Simon asked, sliding off the sofa to sit next to Shane on the floor.

Spence got up and curled up around Shane. Robin inserted herself into the pile and they just cuddled until the show was over.

Steve wanted to be on that stage more than anything, just singing with Eddie, happy and free. But he was Abbadon right now and while he might get away with it, Steve didn’t feel comfortable with the not being able to kiss his boyfriend senseless.

He waited until the it’s almost time for the encore before he slipped back into the green room. Everyone else is already changed and gone. It’s just Robin as Celeste waiting for him.

“How did he not have a boyfriend before now?” Steve muttered as he pulled on the khakis and blue polo shirt of his ‘uniform.’

Robin snorted. “For the same reason you went pretty thin on the dating field. He was hung up on a special someone.”

Steve blushed and ducked his head. “I’m assume you think it’s me.” He ran his fingers through his hair, trying to get it lay straight after being hidden under the hood for so long.

Robin got to her feet and leaned down to look him in the eye. “Are you telling me you don’t?”

Steve looked away. Robin gently lifted his chin and then held his face her hands. “Steven Kincade Harrington, you listen to me close. You are worthy of love. You are worthy of care. You are worthy of attention. And Eddie Munson is one hundred percent onboard to give all three. Of course he was waiting for you. Any person with eyes can see how much he loves you. Fuck, Simon bristles every time he’s brought up now because instead him being your protector like it used to be, it’s Eddie.”

Steve stared at her with his mouth wide open. “Simon’s jealous of Eddie?”

Robin laughed and kissed his stupid head.

“Babe,” she said fondly. “Spence and Shane have been beating him off with a stick every time Eddie comes around.”

“But Simon doesn’t protect me,” Steve said tilting his head to the side. “I protect him. He’s so painfully shy outside of the band and he’s always curled up on my lap.”

“Please tell me you aren’t that naive,” she said. “He is always sticking up for you about your writing, about your singing. When it comes to band stuff Simon is the biggest mama bear of them all.”

Steve blinked at her for a moment and then mouthed the word “Oh.”

“You are such a dingus,” she said shaking her head. “But you’re my dingus so that evens it out a bit.”

He pushed her playfully. “I’m going to get out there before people wonder where the missing EMT is.”

He slipped out a different way from when he came in and she watched him go. Steve was brilliant at a lot of things, people included. But he always had a blindspot when it came to when other people caring for him.

She sighed and then made her way out of the green room so that Corroded Coffin could unwind now.

Robin passed Chrissy on the way out.

“Hey,” Chrissy said with a huge smile. “My boys want to go afterwards with your boys, you think they’d be down?”

“Of course they would!” she replied. “As The Fallen or no?”

Chrissy slapped her palm to her forehead. “Shit I forgot. As The Fallen. But they have casual masks to go in right?”

Robin smiled back at her. “It’s fine, of course they have casual masks. I’ll let them know. It’ll have to be much later because they have to be see as normies for a bit before they slip back into The Fallen.”

Chrissy winked and tapped the side of her nose. “I got you.”

Just then all the Corroded Coffin boys came bursting from the stage into the wings, whooping and screaming. They huddled together, arms around each other and counted to twenty.

Once they got to one, Eddie screamed whooped again and all four of them ran back on stage.

Robin blinked at them for a moment. “Didn’t they just have an encore?”

Chrissy threw back her head and laughed. “Depending on the city they can do anywhere from two to five encores.”

“Holy shit!” Robin said in genuine awe. “That’s insane.”

“It’s not even their record,” she said.

Robin’s eyebrows shot up. “There’s no way.”

“Six in Salt Lake City,” she explained. “Just coming off their third album, the one with eight singles. Which was too many in my opinion but apparently a couple radio stations thought there were a really good deep tracks and played. Then it got around, yaddy yadda. You get the drift.”

“But six?” Robin asked a little unsure.

Chrissy nodded. “Salt Lake is crazy for that shit though. I’ve heard bands go there if they want their ego stoked.”

“Any bands avoid it for that reason?” Robin giggled.

“I have no doubt there are,” she said with a hum. “Most of the time bands whine about the lack of boobs and booze when they refuse to go back.”

Robin rolled her eyes. “Men are so gross.”

“Agreed,” she replied with a wink. “Go lesbian power.”

Robin fist bumped her. “I’ve got to go look like a PA schlep for awhile. I’ll text you when they’re free.”

“You’ve got it girlie!” Chrissy said.

Eddie was not pleased that they were at a bar. A bar was the last place he wanted Gareth to be right now.

But he insisted he would be fine and seemed for the most part to be sticking to a cherry coke, but Eddie was keeping an eye on him.

Things were actually going well until...

Astraeus let out a yelp of pain.

Abbadon and Azrael were on their feet in an instant, Asmodeus close behind. There was a little action going on so Eddie couldn’t see what happened, but oh boy did he see the aftermath.

Standing behind The Fallen’s bassist was an asshole with his phone up, filming and another guy yanking on Astraeus’ hood.

“Get off of him,” Abbadon hissed. “Or else.”

Abbadon was the shortest of his band, but fuck in that moment, he looked the most intimidating.

The dude with phone scoffed. “Or what? I’m filming you, you can’t do shit.”

Steve let out a huge ear-piercing whistle and yelled, “Security!”

The two dudes’ eyes went wide as they turned to scramble away from their table, but ran into two very meaty looking guys flanking Hopper.

“You two boys going somewhere?” the head of security asked, low and dangerously.

“We weren’t doing anything!” the one dude said. Not the one with the phone, but the one who had pulled on Astraeus’ hood.

“Yeah?” he asked. “And would these boys say the same?”

The asshole with the phone scoffed. “They’re just a bunch of weird, rich assholes, they’d say whatever.”

“And the security cameras won’t show you filming your friend here, yanking on this man’s hoodie?”

The two dudes looked at each in actual fear for the first time.

“And by the way, that’s assault,” Hopper continued to press. “So unless you want to be arrested, you’ll delete that little videos of yours unless you really, really want to broadcast your crime to the internet.”

The guy with the phone had Hopper watch him delete it off his phone.

“Good,” he said, “now these two gentlemen are going to escort out of the building, a building you’ll never be allowed to come back to ever again.”

After Hopper left with the bouncers and the two idiots, Gareth turned to them.

“Shit,” he said, “that was fucking terrifying. Does that happen a lot?”

Abbadon and Azrael exchanged a glance.

“More than it really should,” Azrael said. “It’s why Ellie designed a hoodie that would be harder to yank off. The trade off unfortunately is that hurts like a bitch when it’s pulled.”

“That fucking sucks, man,” Jeff said. “The next round of drinks is on me.”

Eddie nodded, but inside he was screaming. He didn’t know that this was something the band experienced at all. And even if he didn’t know who they were, that would still freak him out. But it was worse knowing it was Steve that they were doing this to.

Abbadon squeezed his hand under the table. It didn’t reassure him, not really, but it was still nice that Steve recognized his turmoil.

The night was a little more subdued after that as the Corroded Coffin boys thought about the implications of what just happened and The Fallen boys because all they wanted was a fun night out and it was ruined.

Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25

Tag List: CLOSED

1- @mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog

2- @gregre369 @a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @val-from-lawrence

3- @goodolefashionedloverboi @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog @irregular-child @blondie1006

4- @yikes-a-bee @bookworm0690 @anne-bennett-cosplayer @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten

5- @genderless-spoon @y4r3luv @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt

6- @disrespectedgoatman @eyehartart @dawners @thespaceantwhowrites @tinyplanet95

7- @iamthehybrid @croatoan-like-its-hot @papergrenade @cryptid-system @counting-dollars-counting-stars

8- @ravenfrog @w1ll0wtr33 @child-of-cthulhu @kultiras @dreamercec

9- @machete-inventory-manager @useless-nb-bisexual @stripey82 @dotdot-wierdlife @kal-ology

10- @sadisticaltarts @urkadop @chameleonhair @clockworkballerina @garden-of-gay

#my writing #stranger things #steddie #ladykailtiha writes #rockstar eddie munson #rockstar steve harrington #rockstar au

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ilovebuckers5 · 6 months ago

Text

*•♡never be like you pt 3 ♡¸.•*'

nika muhl x cheerleader!reader

"I'm falling on my knees. forgive me, I'm a fucking fool "

word count - 2.3k

themes :

-angst if you squint

-smut

warnings :

-public sex

-fingering

a/n - sorry for how long it took me to post this. writers block was biting me in the ass. enjoy the smut!!! ( I did not spell check sooooo sorry)

the days between when I asked Nika to the concert and the actual concert were hell. all I could think about was her. and the occasional thought about what Farah was planning for fucking over Asher but that's for another day.

finally, it was the day of the concert. I had already ordered an outfit from about a million different websites but it came together perfectly. I was going to be basic and just where a purple skirt and a white top but the more I looked in online stores, the crazier (and shinier) my outfit got. I decided on a sparkly purple blazer and a black mini skirt with a matching black tube top. the only shoes I could find were purple doc martins so that's what I went with.

the moment I stepped out of my closet to show Farah my outfit, I was convinced that she dropped dead. her hands slammed on the desk she was sitting beside. she stood up and ran her hands over the shoulders of my blazer. "its so fucking good oh my God. I'm kind of mad at you actually. I wish I came up with this." her eyes and hands traced over my entire outfit in awe. before I could even look at myself in the mirror, Farah began taking way too many photos. "I'm sending these all the Nika." that's when I slapped the phone out of her hand.

i almost broke my nose diving for her phone to delete all the pictures. the last thing I wanted was for Nika to see me in a ridiculously glittery outfit with anything else done. if I was doing a big reveal for her then it would have to be when I'm fully ready.

while Farah changed into her outfit, which was a mystery to me, I started doing my makeup. the concert was in 3 hours from now and the venue was 1 hour and 30 minutes away. so as long as Farah didn't take forever getting ready, we would be fine. of course that's as long as Nika was ready.

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nika's pov

to be honest, I've only heard one Olivia Rodrigo song in my entire life. and its not like I hated it but it wasn't my type of music. but because I love concerts and y/n, I turned on a playlist with her music and started getting ready. me, Farah, and y/n had made a group chat just for this occasion. we barely talked in it, more of just updating each other on where the concert was at and what time it was. the only appropriate outfit I could find was a pair of black jean shorts and a purple tank top. when I tried showing a couple of the girls on my team, I've never gotten more disapproval. they forced me to get letters and designs ironed on the top so once the outfit was put together I had a purple tank top with the words 'sorry my guts spilled' on it with my shorts and a purple pair of Nike dunks that I had to borrow from Paige. oh yeah, the group chat was also used for outfit checks. so I got sent pictures of outfits on racks, hangers, beds, floors, and people. I couldn't care enough to do all that so I just sent a picture of my outfit once it was on me.

farah and y/n had to have been the most hyped up girls I've ever met. they couldn't stop spamming the group chat when they saw my outfit. it honestly felt nice. I didn't do much makeup because I knew how hot those stadiums got. I just put on some mascara and lip liner and I was ready to go. I didn't want to end up looking a mess afterwards, I guess the girls did though.

when I was getting ready, one song sort of stuck out compared to all the others. love is embarrassing. I kind of related to it. loves was never really my thing. at least in college it wasn't. love seemed like something that would get me distracted. as much as I adored seeing other couples out on dates and couples going to each other's event like sports games, it seemed well, embarrassing to me.

i tried to keep it like that.

the time that the girls spent getting ready on seemed to go by slower than ever. i found myself sitting on my bed and my couch and every other surface ever. when finally i got a text.

'we're here!'

i launched myself off of the ledge of my counter and grabbed my bag. i made sure to bring a couple extra water bottles and other necessities so that if anyone ran out, that actually wouldn't.

the moment i sat in the car, the energy shifted.

when i looked from afar, the girls were going back and forth with no music playing. as if one or the other was panicking about something. but when i got there, they acted normal as ever. weird.

"heyyyy! you ready?"

fatah squealed, shaking my shoulder. i smiled in return while nodding my head up and down.

"yess! let's go!"

i wanted to talk to y/n but she barely looked at me. i couldn't tell if it was out of fear or if she just forgot to say something but i knew it didn't feel that good.

the entire car ride was filled with the two girls informing me about olivia rodrigo's songs and who they are about and who she's dated. and to be honest i was pretty invested. more than any other artist. the girls knew every lyrics to every song and it made me feel out of place but i knew i'd settle in once i heard her live.

"oh my god and just a little while ago she released guts spilled!"

i couldn't help but tilt my head in confusion.

"what's that?"

the girls gave eachother a look as if they were about to stop the car and put on a performance of what 'guts spilled' is.

"it's like a bonus to guts! it has five new tracks that basically everyone was waiting for!"

i could tell that this was something y/n had been waiting to be asked about. the pure joy in her face and voice brought a light smile to my face. her eyebrows were raised and her eyes were open wide.

"i think you'll like obsessed and girl i've always been..." farah leaned back to look at me and whisper.

the rest of the car ride was pretty fun actually. we spent time memorizing lyrics. well. they spent time helping me memorize lyrics and eventually i got lost in the music, making the time on the road go by extremely quick. by the time we were at the stadium, i had basically learned all the lyrics to both of olivia's albums. farah and y/n were so proud.

this parking lot was more packed than any concert lot i've ever been to. i mean every single spot was taken. we had to park on the street and speed walk to the stadium. we got in after what felt like hours of checking bags and tickets and whatever. and once we were in? it was cold.

cold and mildy empty. we had gotten there around 40 minutes early so we found the pit and hung around until the entire stadium was full.

when the light went off, i felt the entire aura switch very quickly. there was a different artist opening. and while i had heard of olivia once or twice around social media, i had never heard of chappell roan. of course farah and y/n had because they began screaming every single lyrics. the music actually was bad so i started to dance along and hum to as much lyrics as i could understand.

finally there were purple lights flashing and olivia came out. i couldn't help but scream along with everyone because as much as i tried to hide it, i was pretty fucking excited.

------------------------------------------------------------

y/n's pov

i don't think i could express how badly i want to wrap my arms around nika just for her coming. we were basically strangers and she came to a whole concert with us. a normal person wouldn't just do that. nika would.

i won't lie, the way our shoulders bumped up against eachother while we were dancing and singing felt even better than hearing olivia rodrigo live.

there were even moments where the air was steamy but bearable. i'd take a second to look to the side and there nika would be, already looking at me as if she was waiting for our eyes to meet. she would nod her head, asking if she could take my hand without speaking. and of course i never denied. she held both of our hands in the air and jumped around to all-american bitch. i know she meant it in a "this is a girls moment" way but my head told me that she was holding my hand the way i had been wanting to for the past week.

none of this could leave my mouth of course. because one ; it was too loud for anyone to even hear my words and two ; it wouldn't be the best choice to confess my love to nika in the middle of a concert. so i shoved my thoughts and fluttery words right back down my throat and replaced them with song lyrics.

all of the thoughts in my head were bringing me to tears. the fact that i was actually in the same stadium as olivia rodrigo and the fact that i was in the same arm distance as nika muhl. and i couldn't even hold her how ive wanted.

then the scream happened. right before the scream in all-american bitch was about to happen, olivia stopped and told everyone to scream for themselves. and i knew exactly what to think about when i screamed.

i screamed about having to wait for nika even though it might not work out. i thought about the fact that our bodies were pressed together in the most platonic way possible. i screamed about the fact that i still had to sort shit out with asher when i got back to campus. and i screamed about the fact that nika had no idea.

in my head i was the loudest person there but i know i wasn't when all of the screams melted together into one.

then she played obsessed. my favorite. there were a good amount of Olivia Rodrigo songs that I did relate to and this was not one of them. I've never been obsessed with anyone's ex. I've never really...cared.

i remember when the song was first leaked on a podcast on Spotify it was the only thing I listened to for a while. I knew every lyric like the back of my hand even if I didn't associate them with my own life.

olivia had changed into a red body suit and she looked amazing. it shocked me how she sounded so perfect while dancing but that's just Olivia Rodrigo for you.

i noticed Nika getting even more loud during this song. she actually was singing the lyrics as if she had known them for months. I felt proud as fuck. are hands met again. we were jumping up and down to the beat of the drums, screaming together like we had been friends for years.

everything went by so quickly.

next thing I knew she had her hand around my waist while she tried to catch her breath. her head was closer to my hands then my face and she had a death grip on her own knee. her back lifted and fell as her heavy breaths slowly went away. i had my hand on her back, trying to make sure she was ok while the song continued.

when her head was back up at eye level the first thing she did was lean into my ear and whisper. "can I try something?"

i had never been more confused in my life until I nodded and felt her hand still lingering around my hips. her fingers grazed the skin that was open in the air. she had been pretending to be focused on the music while her hands slipped down my waist and under my skirt. my breath hitched when she used just her pinky to slide my underwear to the side.

"w-what are you doing?" I questioned, trying to pretend like I didn't want this to happen.

"oh shut up I know you've wanted me too."

i couldn't form words before she dipped two fingers in my pussy. I knew that I could be more vocal since the music was loud enough to drown everyone out but I still felt the need to stay quiet. from anyone elses view, you'd think we were just holding each other or holding hands while singing. Nika quickened her pace, already making me close. it felt like a dream. and it felt like three songs had already passed but by the time it was the bridge of obsessed, I was dripping all over Nika's fingers.

"f-fuck!" I whined out, making Nika cover my mouth with her lips. she didn't stop pumping her fingers in and out of my cunt but it felt like we were only kissing. like the only thing I could feel was her lips on mine and her tongue tangled with mine.

just as I was about to finish for the second time within 1 minute and 30 seconds, Nika pulled her fingers out of me and laid them on her own tongue, sucking them clean.

part of me was in disbelief of what just happened and the other part was fully aware.

"can we continue at home?"

i nodded eagerly, still not knowing what to say to her. I could tell by the smirk on her lips and how her hands were placed on her hips that she was real fucking proud of what she just did.

the rest of the concert was a blur to me.

#girlblogger #nika muhl #basketball #uconn wbb #uconhuskies #lesbian #nika muhl x reader #nika x reader #nika mühl #nika my wife fr #never be like you #Nika muhl smut #Nika smut

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mangowillow · 7 months ago

Text

last to know | ch. 2: as always, even now

pairing: jungkook x (f) reader / kim woosung x (f) reader

summary: you and jeongguk got together at 16 years old, married at 20, and divorced at 21. what was once love ever after turned into nothing but pain and unfulfilled dreams. you keep going despite the pain in your heart that never really went away, until one day, jungkook comes back— to seoul and in your life.

general story tags: divorce au, childhood friends, angst, hurt & eventual comfort, kind of a slow burn, OC is an adopted child in this fic, a lot of flashbacks later on because context is important; and the others that a lot of people seem to dislike: a love triangle and a LOT of miscommunication. look away if this isn't your thing. tags and warnings will be updated as we go along with each chapter!

warnings: mentions of weight loss and a hospital, jeongguk has a panic attack (semi-detailed), problematic parent-child dynamics. let me know if i miss anything and please be kind!

word count: 5.3k

author's note: *peeks into the void* why hello there! let's pretend i didn't disappear off the face of the earth. earlier this year i went to see The Rose live for their dawn to dusk tour and it was so much fun! there's just a lot of things that have happened and continue to do so; please accept my sincerest apologies for being inconsistent! BUT. know that i haven't forgotten about this story. heh.

also a few more things: ♡ to put things into perspective: jeongguk, OC/reader, and woosung are all the same age; that also means they're as old as seokjin and yoongi in this fic. all the other members maintain their age. honorifics may or may not appear at times. if that bothers you, well, can't please everybody! ♡ this fic isn't beta'd nor proofread by anyone. we go rogue, always.

tags for interested readers will be open for as long as this fic is ongoing! let me know in the comments or message me, whatever fits your preference!

fic masterlist

Woosung plants a big, sloppy kiss on your cheek and giggles.

Looking at him, you ask, “What was that for?”

“Do I need a reason?” Woosung teases as he chews on his jjajangmyeon. You chuckle at his candidness and reach out to wipe the sauce that landed on the corner of his lip. The both of you resorted to sitting on the floor, surrounded by boxes, using one of them as a makeshift table to place the food.

“I’m really happy you got to come today,” you muse, enjoying Woosung’s calming presence as he delicately places a piece of chicken karaage on your noodle bowl before setting his own down. You haven’t seen him for a few days because he needed to get some new music done in preparation for his application to a recording agency as a performer and a producer. You were more than happy to support him in any way you could, including giving him his space to figure things out. It was also who Woosung was— a quiet soul who liked working in solitude.

You and Woosung are so much alike.

“Why? Did you think I’d forget?” Woosung teases, a smirk playing on his lips.

“No, I just thought… maybe you needed more time to prepare for your application. That’s important.”

Woosung gently shakes his head, ready to disagree— “Nothing will ever be as important to me as you.”

A slight pink dusted your cheeks. You didn’t expect him to be this cheesy so early in the morning so you smile and cast your eyes back down to your meal.

“... I do have news for you, babe.” Woosung starts. He turns his body to face you. Giving your hundred percent attention, you cut the noodles with your teeth and place the bowl down. Wiping your mouth with a napkin, you hum at his statement, “What is it?”

Woosung smiles and looks at you lovingly. You feel a bit self-conscious every time he stares at you so intensely and like clockwork, you feel your cheeks heat up.

“I got the job, sweetheart.”

Hearing the news leave his lips leaves you surprised— your hands fly to your mouth and your eyes start to water. “R-really?” Woosung nods and chuckles through his own teary eyes, you throw yourself at him to give him a tight hug. “Woosung, oh my god— this is— “ you hold him by the shoulders, explore every inch of his face, elation in both of your hearts— “this is great, oh gosh I am so happy for you,” you hug him again.

You feel Woosung’s body relax instantly in your hold; it has been a journey, walking with Woosung through his own painful moments struggling with his art and passion. Two years ago, he came to Seoul desperately needing a break from life and music after many unsuccessful attempts to make it into the music industry back home in the United States. Although he and his bandmates have put out several songs in the past, they never really gained as much traction with an audience as they had hoped. Going back home to his roots in South Korea also meant leaving his bandmates behind— they have been nothing but supportive of him and his time as they also needed to re-assess their own lives and figure out what they truly wanted.

Two years ago, Woosung also met you. Both your lives changed ever since.

“Thank you for all your support, ____… you know I wouldn’t have been able to get through all this if it weren’t for you.” Woosung whispers, tightening his hold on your waist. You feel this, you feel everything when it comes to him— so you wrap your arms tighter around him, too. “This is all you, babe. This is all your hard work.”

You both stay that way for a while. Unspoken words are left hanging, as well. You both know well what might become of all this as you always try to communicate. You believe it is what has sustained your relationship for so long.

Both of you know that Woosung will always belong to music— it’s his dream and the reason why he took so many risks along the way. It was only a matter of when. The possibilities have always been there— should there be a moment where Woosung would return to his career, to his band, to becoming a global star. The fears that come along with those possibilities were also ever-present: what you and Woosung’s future would look like.

All of these thoughts come rushing to the both of you, but neither of you said anything.

For now, the both of you are happy. And that is enough.

When you parted from each other, you pushed away some of the hair that fell over Woosung’s eyes. “When do you start?”

Woosung takes a deep breath, “As soon as the higher-ups get settled in. I’ve been told they’ve recently landed in Seoul so it shouldn’t be too long now. I’ll be meeting with the owners and one of them is the lead producer. I heard he was a genius, but also a bit scary. They’ve also given me a signing bonus and a potential collaboration with him… that was new… he said they liked my work so much…”

“Wow, that… that sounds so exciting, baby. How are you feeling about all of this?”

“I’m nervous, for the most part,” Woosung murmurs, readjusting the collar of his shirt. It’s been a while since I talked to someone else about music professionally and… this company— I’ve heard so many wonderful things about it. For one, it was built by musicians, too. So I’m hoping they’re not just doing all of it for the business.”

You smile warmly at Woosung and hold his hands. “You’re going to do great, you know that, right?”

Woosung draws in a breath and nods before meeting your eyes.

That night, Woosung couldn’t sleep. He watches over you as you dream and when a strand of your hair falls on your face after moving a bit, he tucks it behind your ear. His fingers lightly dance while grazing the side of your face. Woosung sighs as a feeling of anxiety starts to creep into his heart. He loves change, but he cannot help but feel somewhat scared about it anyway. He gets so lost in his thoughts about you that he doesn’t notice you wake up.

“Baby, hey… you’re still awake.”

Your voice brings Woosung back to the present. Seeing your sleepy eyes under the sliver of moonlight that passes through your window makes his heart do a mini somersault— it always does.

“Hmm… I couldn’t sleep,” Woosung says. You scoot closer to him, his arm going under your shoulders to support your body in an embrace.

“Tell me what’s on your mind,” you whisper, eyes closed, inhaling his scent— him.

“Just… things. I’m not sure how to articulate them yet…”

You hum, “Then I’ll just stay like this with you to keep you warm… warmth helps you sleep, right?”

Woosung nods, bringing your body closer to his. “Hm… especially your warmth.” Seconds later, he feels you breathe deeper, letting him know that you’re about to let yourself succumb to sleep once more. “I love you.”

When no response came from you, Woosung closed his eyes. Then suddenly, in the stillness of the night, he feels your hand squeeze his ever so lightly.

“I love you, too.”

“Hyung, I think that’s the salt—” Jimin starts.

Seokjin snorts, stopping with the shaker in his hand mid-air, “What do you mean, Jimin-ah, I think I know the difference between salt and sugar.” He was about to potentially put salt on the croffle in front of him, leaving Jimin feeling both very nervous and distressed.

“Last time, I remember you put the sugar in a different container because a customer accidentally broke the original shaker. The color of the cap was blue, not red. This—” he pointed at the shaker Seokjin was holding, “— is obviously not blue.”

“Yah, that happened last week, but I already switched them out two days ago—” Seokjin tries to argue.

They didn’t notice Woosung enter the cafe until he spoke, “Why don’t you just taste it?”

“Oh hey, Woosung-hyung,” Jimin greets.

“Hey, Jimin. Good to see you,” Woosung replies as Jimin nods, his eyes turning into crescents as soon as he smiles.

Seokjin scoffs once more before greeting Woosung, but he relents and tastes whatever is inside the shaker. When he makes a funny face, Jimin and Woosung chuckle.

“Told ya, hyung. Tell us I saved your life.”

“I can’t believe this is salt, I knew I already switched it out—”

With possible disaster averted, Jimin doesn’t listen to Seokjin’s monologue anymore, “You’re here early today, hyung. Would you like to order the usual?”

“Actually, I am here to buy a mango parfait… ____’s fridge is crazy cold and the frozen mangoes are, well, too frozen. I might actually break the blender. I also forgot to make her usual overnight oats. We had to move a lot of things very quickly yesterday so she could have a bed to sleep on.”

“I got you, hyung. We just finished making a fresh batch of parfaits. Do you want one, too?” Jimin asks.

“Are there other flavors?”

“Blueberry and strawberry,” Seokjin adds.

“I’ll take one blueberry, then. Thanks.” Woosung gets ready to pay, but Seokjin waves him away. “It’s on the house.”

“You always give us free stuff, Seokjin—” Woosung tries to argue, but Seokjin shakes his head immediately.

“Taking care of my sister is more than enough, Woosung-ah.”

Woosung gives Seokjin a tight smile and nods. Seokjin then asks, albeit softer, “How is she doing lately?”

“She’s doing better,” Woosung reassures. “She has been painting more recently; not just because of her job at the university, but also at home. We’re going to set up her studio today so it should be fun.”

“That’s good to hear, right hyung?” Jimin turns to Seokjin, who nods. Jimin hands Woosung a paper bag with the parfaits. “I put some new desserts we’re experimenting with. Please give them a try.”

Woosung peeks at the paper bag and sees croissants and greenish muffins, presumably matcha-flavored. “Oh wow, thank you Jimin… I won’t take up too much of your time, guys. ____ is still sleeping and I need to clean up the mango disaster I left on her kitchen counter before she wakes up.”

Seokjin chuckles, “You really came all the way here for parfaits when you could have bought these anywhere near ____’s apartment.”

“Ah, but nothing beats your parfaits, Seokjin. A wise man once told me that,” Woosung smiles. He and Seokjin instantly formed a bond the moment they met two years ago, much to your relief. You’ve always been nervous to tell your brother anything remotely new about your love life— and you understand where he is coming from.

“Well whoever that wise man is must be pretty smart,” Seokjin replies. His eyes soften right afterward. “Go. Let’s have a drink sometime, yeah?”

“Sure thing,” Woosung waves goodbye to Seokjin and Jimin.

Jeongguk walks the hallway of the recording studio, still groggy from sleep. Hands in his pockets, he stood outside Yoongi’s door, staring at his peculiar mat: a cat with its middle finger raised, the words ‘fuck off’ glaring at him. Figures, he thought. A doormat won’t stop him from ringing Yoongi’s doorbell, though.

“Who is it?” he hears Yoongi call out.

“It’s your favorite person in the whole wide world,” Jeongguk says, sarcasm lacing his voice. He pinched the bridge of his nose; a habit he developed in college whenever he felt the exhaustion seep out of him. He hears scuffling from the other side of the door until the sound of the door’s automatic lock rings. Jeongguk sees Yoongi clad in a plaid shirt, ripped jeans, and a gray beanie— his signature style.

“Dumbass,” Yoongi mutters under his breath before turning his back to return to his equipment. “Good morning to you too,” Jeongguk teases as he closes the door behind him.

“How are you already set up? It’s barely a day since we arrived!”

Yoongi chooses not to respond.

“You’re kidding me, right?” Jeongguk asks in disbelief. “Please tell me you at least went home to get your shit sorted? Or maybe sleep like normal human beings do?”

“I did… for a brief moment, maybe?” Yoongi starts.

Jeongguk shakes his head, “You have to stop spreading yourself thin, Yoongi. It’ll be the death of you.”

Yoongi fiddles with a few knobs on the synthesizer before muttering, “That doesn’t seem so bad— spreading myself too thin, that is.”

Jeongguk throws his hands up in surrender and rolls his eyes.

“Have I succeeded in frustrating you to hell and back, yet?” Yoongi smirks while continuing to flit his eyes through the numerous screens in front of him.

Jeongguk was about to say something but then the door alarm clicked. Kim Namjoon’s head peeks out from behind the door.

“I came to say my welcome remarks,” Namjoon says as he lets himself in. Jeongguk’s mouth falls open because he couldn’t believe Namjoon could just easily waltz in without any resistance. What’s even more astounding was that he knew Yoongi’s passcode— while he, on the other hand, had to ring the fucking doorbell.

“Oh, great. So your boyfriend knows your passcode and I don’t?” Jeongguk asks.

“He isn’t my boyfriend,” Yoongi states, matter-of-factly. Jeongguk couldn’t help but glance at Namjoon’s way, who seemed unfazed.

“Right, and I’m Neil Armstrong,” Jeongguk plops down on the couch.

“You’re the CEO, Jeongguk, of course, you should know the passcode… right, Yoongi?” says Namjoon, ever the oblivious one.

Yoongi continues to do work on his computer, his fingers deftly flying across his keyboard, “Don’t encourage him, Namjoon.”

Namjoon looks back at Jeongguk who has now taken an interest in the plant beside the couch. When they met each other’s eyes, Namjoon just shrugged, his dimples showing.

“How was your flight, you guys? I hope everything was easy peasy.”

“Easy peasy lemon squeezy,” Jeongguk responds. “Not sure about Yoongi here though. He looked like he was about to puke.”

“Shut up,” Yoongi retaliates.

“I can’t imagine the both of you tolerating each other while in another country. It’s a miracle this production company is still standing upright,” Namjoon says chuckling.

Namjoon met Jeongguk first in university while they studied in New York. Although Jeongguk was a business student and Namjoon double majored in music theory and composition, they ran into each other at a frat party-— with Jeongguk being drunk off his ass. He was about to fall into the pool full of piss (which the other frat members thought was funny) when Namjoon saved him in the nick of time.

Apart from Yoongi, Namjoon also served as Jeongguk’s confidant, especially after things went south between you and Jeongguk. When the dust settled and Jeongguk was sober enough to realize the gravity of his mistakes, Namjoon helped Yoongi pick up the pieces of Jeongguk’s brokenness. As with time passing by, Namjoon and Yoongi started to develop into something more, too. Much to Jeongguk’s delight and envy.

However, neither Yoongi nor Namjoon has admitted their feelings to the other. And truth be told, Jeongguk is sick of them dancing around each other.

But he also knows it’s none of his business.

“Hey, Jeongguk, is that family dinner of yours still happening tonight?” Yoongi decides to ask. Also probably to change the subject.

Jeongguk lets out a deep sigh. “Yes, it is.”

“Ouch. Will you be alright?” Namjoon asks out of genuine concern.

“I don’t really have a choice.”

“You always have a choice, Jeongguk-ah,” Yoongi inserts. “You just need to work on making the right ones.”

Jeongguk slacks his jaw and runs his tongue across his lip ring. He doesn’t really have an answer to that.

Because once again, Yoongi was right. Not just about the damn family dinner; Jeongguk also knows his best friend’s words run deeper and imply a whole lot more than just feeling forced to sit down with his parents over steak and champagne.

“See you on the other side, then,” Namjoon says as he pats Jeongguk on the shoulder before leaving the room.

Jeongguk mulled over bringing flowers to the family dinner but decided against it.

He knows that the house would be filled with them, anyway. And his efforts won’t matter, either.

As he got out of his car, a chauffeur was already by his side ready to take his keys for him. When the car drove off, Jeongguk took a moment to look at the house he hadn’t lived in for years. It feels odd to come home; it feels even odder to feel numb about all of it.

It took Jeongguk a few seconds to ring the doorbell; for god’s sake, it was his house too, he thought. Ringing the doorbell meant he was a stranger— which he felt was appropriate.

He was greeted by a new housekeeper. He gave her a nod before stepping inside. Almost instantly, his mother appeared at the top of the staircase. They look at one another for a moment, before his mother breaks the silence.

“You finally decide to show yourself.”

Jeongguk doesn’t move. Doesn’t respond, either. He was prepared for a stare-off match with his mother, but that was until his father showed up from the kitchen. With a dish towel in hand, Jeongguk’s father smiled at him as he placed a hand on his son’s shoulder.

“It’s so good to see you, son.”

Jeongguk, once more, doesn’t have it in him to respond.

At the dinner table, the silence was so loud, that Jeongguk thought it could break glass.

“Did you settle in fine, Jeongguk?” his father asks.

“Yes, father, I did.”

“You should have chosen a place that was nearer to us, Jeongguk,” his mother chides.

“Honey…” Jeongguk’s father tries to put out a fire that is about to ignite. Jeongguk, on the other hand, was so tired from the flight and emotionally, that he felt a need to retaliate.

Because why not? Whether he speaks up or not wasn’t really up to him. Between him and his mother, he has nothing to lose.

“I don’t know, mother, I chose that place because I wanted to get away from here as much as possible.” Jeongguk remarks. He knows he hit a nerve because his mother downed her champagne rather than respond.

“How is the company going, son? Everything doing alright?” his father asks, trying to mitigate a conflict that neither of them could recover from.

“I guess. Yoongi and I haven’t managed to burn anything so that’s nice,” Jeongguk eats a spoonful of mashed potato. He knows he really needs to shut up and regulate his emotions, but he just can’t help but be sarcastic.

Once more, the silence won. However, Jeongguk’s mother is the type to not back down.

“You should think about getting married soon, Jeongguk—” she starts. Jeongguk feels himself grow cold as if on instinct.

“—and this time, we want you to marry someone your level,” she finishes. Jeongguk felt his heart twisting so painfully that he didn’t notice how tight he held on to his cutlery.

Jeongguk swallows the once-repressed pain that used to consume him whole. He knows this is futile because he never dares to face his regrets square in the face. Instead, he allows the pain to make him angry. He allows his resentment to consume him in ways he doesn’t know how to handle and in a pained effort to avoid causing further damage, he remains quiet. Unresponsive. Cold. Withdrawn.

But his own mother is even more cold-hearted than he is. She is the one who made him like this.

It’s her fault.

“You need to marry a good woman who can keep up with your social status. Remember you’re not just anyone, Jeongguk. You’re a Jeon. And you have a legacy to uphold,” his mother condescends.

Tears start to sting Jeongguk’s eyes, but he doesn’t want to let his mother win. So he keeps still.

“I have a few prospects for you, dear. We should set dates for them, don’t you think so? I chose the most refined and educated—” Jeongguk hates how his mother knows how to push his buttons and hurt him.

He knows that his mother knows his ultimate weakness.

You.

And because his mother cannot contain her insecurities and prejudice, she projects it all on her son. But most especially, you— whether you were in the room or not.

Jeongguk’s mother continues her monologue. His father miserably fails to become the referee (he always does). Heat starts to rise Jeongguk’s neck and he swears he could hear his own blood pumping through his ears. What almost immediately follows is the high-pitched ringing that only he can hear.

Jeongguk starts to feel dizzy; like he’s about to lose control.

But instead of releasing, instead of crying, instead of getting angry— he does none of them.

He finds himself standing up, his hands dragging the plate full of food to the ground. With all his might, Jeongguk tries to breathe deeply.

“That’s enough, mom.” Jeongguk croaks. A tear escapes his eye. “Please.”

Jeongguk rarely addresses her as “mom”. But in times of vulnerability and helplessness, it’s the term he ends up using.

“As I expected… you are still weak, Jeongguk.” his mother states with absolutely no remorse.

Jeongguk feels like he is about to throw up. To save himself, he drags his legs to leave the dining area. Housekeepers try to help him, but he brushes them aside. Security guards around the house up until the gate tried to support him, but Jeongguk just waved them all off.

He just needed to get away before his vision completely blurred. He needed to get out of this godforsaken house.

It was a miracle that Jeongguk got far away from the house as he had. But in doing so, he felt physically weaker and weaker. His mind isn’t done with him yet as thoughts of you start to resurface. His chest starts to tighten again. He feels cold and afraid and tired.

Jeongguk falls to his knees on the side of the road; he allows his body to go limp and fall to the ground.

He barely remembers what happened next.

When Jeongguk opens his eyes, bright, stale lights greet him.

He hears beeping, faint footsteps, a voice over an intercom.

He feels something brushing his leg so gently that it takes him a while before realizing that someone is standing over him, wiping the edge of his slacks.

Jeongguk squints his eyes to get a better look at the person touching his leg. When he tries to elevate his upper body, the person in front of him feels him moving.

Jeongguk couldn’t believe who he was seeing. His panic attack must still be happening because it was impossible.

It was you.

“Oh… hi,” you start. Jeongguk is at a loss for words so he continues to stare at you.

You immediately feel self-conscious so you start to wrangle the damp cloth you were holding.

“Are you okay? Hang on, I’ll call the nurse—”

You start to leave, but Jeongguk catches your wrist. He doesn’t know what he’s doing. You look at his hand on your wrist before Jeongguk lets go of it.

“W-what happened?”

“You’re at the hospital… um, I– I got a call from them saying you were here,” you say.

Jeongguk’s eyebrows met. He is still confused as to how or why the hospital would call you. As he looks at you, in the flesh, in front of him, the familiar ache in his chest threatens to overwhelm him again.

You look as beautiful as ever, even more so than the last time he saw you. The last time he did, you were crying to him. He did that to you. That was his fault.

“Are you hurt, anywhere, Jeongguk? I think I need to call your doctor, just give me a second—”

“No… please. I’m okay. I don’t feel any pain.” Except for my broken heart.

“Oh… okay.”

Jeongguk observes you, more particularly your hands. You still have that habit of fiddling with your fingers when you didn’t know what to do, he thinks.

“H-how did the hospital call you? You didn’t change your number?” Jeongguk is a hundred percent sure his choice of questions was dumb, but he doesn’t have any idea as to why you’re here.

“The hospital told me I was your emergency contact… they uh– they only found your wallet on you and found this,” you explain as you handed him his wallet. Inside was an old piece of paper with your emergency contact number and e-mail address.

“The e-mail address is now defunct, but my number is still the same because I had it reactivated when I came back here…”

When I came back here, Jeongguk repeated to himself.

Jeongguk wanted to ask you a million questions, but his throat feels dry and he is unable to speak.

“I um, I also called Yoongi. He should be here any minute,” you continue. When Jeongguk looks at you funny, you give him a small smile— the first one you’ve given him since he woke up. “We talk sometimes.”

There is a lot of information that Jeongguk needs to process but his head hurts a lot and he makes a mental note to interrogate his friend later.

You move to grab and open the plastic bag that is on the bedside table. You pull out a pair of black socks. Jeongguk sees you hesitate a bit before speaking again.

“I got these across the street… your socks got wet from the rain.”

“Oh.” Jeongguk feels really dumb.

“May I?” you tentatively ask. “Your feet will get cold if we don’t—and you have the IV on so you won’t be able to use your hands—”

“It’s okay…” Jeongguk’s response startles you. “Thank you.”

You nod and sit by his feet to put on the new socks. Jeongguk feels the tears again but he tries to hold them back as he feels your touch and your warm fingers graze his bare, cold skin. When you’re done putting them on him, you smile to yourself.

“Does that feel better?” you ask.

Jeongguk nods and hums. He took his time to look at you and to his mild surprise, you reciprocated. A sense of stillness seemed to occur like time stopped just so Jeongguk could fully take in the sight of you.

He hurriedly tries his best to memorize all your features—old and new. Your face is smaller, your cheekbones higher; both indicative of you losing a bit of weight since he saw you last. Your eyes are softer, but also more tired. You also grew out your hair.

To Jeongguk, you are still so beautiful.

And he missed you so much that his heart hurt again at the thought of losing you.

“How are y—” Jeongguk tries to ask, but the door to his hospital room slid open, revealing a disheveled Yoongi.

“Jeongguk, are you okay? What happened?”

Jeongguk notices you quickly moving aside to give Yoongi room.

“I’m fine, Yoongi. I guess I just passed out and—”

“You had another panic attack, Jeongguk. That’s the second time this week. Have you taken your medication?”

Yoongi’s string of questions had Jeongguk feeling anxious. He just had the unexpected chance of seeing you again but under the most dire circumstances. Surely, it wasn’t the time for you to hear about his mental health issues.

“Yoongi, can we—” Jeongguk tried to save face, but Yoongi was faster.

Yoongi turns to you and hugs you. “I’m sorry, ____, you must have been so confused.”

“No, not at all, I’m… I’m glad I could be of help,” you reassure. More so for Jeongguk because you know this must be very awkward for him.

A bit of awkwardness did happen because none of you spoke for a bit. Your phone ringing was the only saving grace.

“Hello? Oh, okay. I’ll be right out,” you answer the other person on the line. Hanging up, you say, “Um… I should get going.”

“Is someone picking you up?” Yoongi asks.

“Yes, Taehyung’s just a few minutes away,” you answer.

Yoongi nods and pulls you in for another hug. He whispers his thanks and you respond by hugging him tighter.

You also approach Jeongguk a little closer. “Take care of yourself, Jeongguk.” You see the pain in his eyes, but you refuse to acknowledge it to yourself, even if Jeongguk’s eyes were brimming with unshed tears and his nose was already pink.

Jeongguk doesn’t want you to go. But again, he has no choice but to let you.

“You too, ____.”

As soon as you close the door, Jeongguk allows his tears to fall.

As soon as you get into the car, Taehyung asks his questions.

“Why the hell did you just come out of a hospital?”

“Tae—”

“Are you okay? Are you hurt anywhere? You’re the only one there? What happened?” You can feel the panic rising in Taehyung as he inspects you, but you just chuckle.

“Yah—you laugh?”

“I’m fine, Taehyung,” you tell him but he doesn’t look convinced. “I really am.”

“Then why were you in there?”

“I saw Jeongguk again, Tae,” you calmly respond.

Taehyung freezes. “You’re joking, right?”

“I’m not,” you answer.

“And you’re… are you okay?”

“I am.”

Taehyung knows you better than that but he gives you a pass because he could also tell you were tired and your short answers mean that you didn’t want to talk just yet.

“Do you want to talk about it over ice cream and fries?”

For a second, you felt tempted, but you just also wanted to go home. “Maybe some other time, Taehyung.”

Taehyung understands immediately and nods. “Should I take you to Woosung hyung or do I take you home?”

You do want to see Woosung because you know he is what you need, but you also don’t want to burden him with a bombshell of an event so you opt to be alone for the night. “Take me home, please.”

“Okay, ____,” Taehyung answers.

The rest of the car ride was a quiet one.

The short walk in the hallway leading to your home is a heavy one. As you punch in your passcode, you deeply sigh. You want nothing more than to collapse on the bed and ruminate on what just happened over the past few hours.

However, the moment you open the door, a wave of delicious scents welcomes you home. As you take off your shoes, you see a familiar pair. You smile to yourself as you place yours beside it.

You enter your home further and see Woosung with his back to you, working his way in the kitchen. As if on cue, Woosung turns around and walks toward you.

“Hey you,” you say with a smile.

“Hi,” Woosung responds, gathering you in his arms and pulling you into a tight embrace. “Did you have a good day, today?”

You feel yourself swallow once before nodding. Woosung, ever the sensitive boyfriend, holds you tighter.

You know you can’t hide from him. So you hold on to him tighter, too.

And you allow yourself to break down and cry.

Woosung feels your body shake and he runs his hand across your back to soothe you.

He may not know what’s going on right now, but he also knows you will talk to him when you’re ready. So he continues to embrace you; kissing the side of your head after a while.

Woosung whispers against your ear, “You’re safe with me, sweetheart.”

taglist: @whoa-jo @nays2112 @junecat18 @jk97bam @butterymin @smdnai

tags for interested readers will be open for as long as this fic is ongoing! let me know in the comments or message me, whatever fits your preference!

#jungkook x reader #jungkook imagine #jungkook x you #jungkook angst #jungkook scenarios #bts au #bts au fanfic #woosung x reader #jungkook divorce au #divorce au

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