#gracie this just made my ENTIRE DAY
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
You end up being responsible for Jeon Jungkook, who's impulsive, annoying and in the habit of breaking the law. Unfortunately for you, he's also funny and sexy as fuck. There's no way this can end well, can it?
Pairing: Jungkook x f!reader
Genre: Crack, smut, rookie lawyer reader and criminal JK
Rating: 18+
Word count: 11k
Warnings: Sex, swearing, criminal activity, smoking
Present day
‘Who,’ breathes Gracie, your new client, ‘the fuck is that?’
You look in the direction she’s facing, and die inside, as the black custom Skyline glides to a smooth stop on the road, in front of you.
‘Uh, so I’ll call when I hear back about the patents,’ you say hurriedly, before….
Too late.
The passenger door opens, and you hear Gracie gasp audibly as she sees the man in the driver’s seat.
His wavy dark hair almost covers his eyes. He rakes his tattooed hand through his hair casually, his silver piercings gleaming in the light from the streetlamps above you.
You get in before he can say anything, shutting the door firmly behind you.
‘Just drive,’ you say, through gritted teeth.
‘Seatbelt,’ he reminds you, but he’s already pulling away from the curb.
You buckle up and stare out the window so you don’t have to look at his ridiculously pretty face.
‘Nice skirt,’ he says.
‘Don’t talk to me,’ you snap.
‘Fine,’ he says, just to annoy you.
He flicks the music on, and the interior of the car fills with the pulsing synth of the early 90s house that he’s been into lately.
He’s a good driver, you’ll give him that.
By the time he pulls into the underground car park of your building, your head is pounding from the loud music he’s played the entire journey home.
You know from experience that if you complain he’ll just turn it up louder.
‘Did you get into anything when I was with my client?’ you ask, because you have to.
The lying asshole has the audacity to give you an innocent look. It’s surprisingly effective, he was born with the wide eyes and pouty lips required to pull it off.
You remind yourself again that Jeon Jungkook is not to be trusted.
You raise an eyebrow, and wait.
Finally, he says, ‘Nothing.’
You harden your stare.
‘Nothing,’ he insists.
He kills the engine and you both exit the car and head for the lifts.
He lives in the apartment next to yours, and the only reason a rich asshole like him is in your building is because his rich parents have paid for him to stay next to you, as his appointed guardian.
It’s an unconventional arrangement which he’d only agreed to because the alternative was jail time.
You’d only agreed to it because his mother is your boss at the law firm you work at, and it’s not just that you need the job, but you’re also one step away from becoming an associate.
Jungkook holds the lift door open with a booted foot.
‘After you,’ he says.
‘The doors are automatic, you don’t have to hold them open,’ you point out.
You know he knows this.
Anyone who’s ever been in a lift knows it.
Jungkook admires himself in the lift mirrors. You look away, but not before he catches you looking at him.
‘Like what you see?’ he asks, voice velvety.
‘No,’ you say flatly, turning away.
He snickers softly but says nothing else.
You reach your floor and sigh with relief.
Finally.
It’s been a long day, and you can’t wait to go home and recharge in the solitude of your apartment.
You can already feel yourself sinking into the plushness of your new sofa after a hot shower. It’s Thursday, too, so there’s a new episode of your favourite drama being released today, and there’s leftovers in the fridge….
Jeon Jungkook’s annoying voice interrupts your daydream.
‘I have to go out again tonight,’ he tells you.
One stipulation his parents made to your unusual arrangement is that you have to accompany him whenever he leaves the apartment after dark.
‘Why?’ you ask, letting your irritation show in your tone.
‘I said I’d meet some guys,’ he says. He holds his hands up as you glare at him. ‘It’s for business.’
You’ve reached your door. You think longingly of your sofa and your drama, and stifle a sigh.
‘I just need a shower and to eat before we go,’ you say, resigned.
‘Fine. I’ll knock in an hour, ok?’ he says.
You don’t bother to respond.
By the time he knocks at your door, you’re out of your work clothes and in sweats and a hoodie.
At his surprised look you raise your eyebrows at him.
‘Am I underdressed for your business meeting?’ you ask, like you care.
He rolls his eyes. ‘I just thought you only wore business pantsuits,’ he replies, smiling sweetly at you.
Your stomach growls. You’d spent too long in the shower and hadn’t had a chance to eat. It’d been worth it.
You ignore it and lock your apartment door.
‘I’m ready.’
Jungkook whistles the tune from a newish pop song as you head for the lifts.
He’s annoyingly melodic, and now the infectious tune’s in your head.
You focus on not humming along as you follow him to his car and get in the passenger seat.
‘Seatbelt,’ he says, and you roll your eyes.
‘Yes, mum.’
‘You look and act like you’re 14,’ Jungkook retorts, navigating out the car park.
‘Where are we going?’ you ask, looking out the window, ignoring his comment.
‘Verve,’ he replies, casual.
You sit up. ‘What?’
Verve is the newest, hottest restaurant in town. It opened a month ago, and it’s still impossible to get a table.
‘I can’t go there dressed like this!’
Jungkook shrugs. ‘No one asked you to get into your PJs.’
You’re livid. ‘You should have told me.’
Jungkook shrugs again. ‘You didn’t ask specifically.’
You have to sit on your hands to stop yourself from punching his smug, pretty face. You catch sight of yourself in the rearview mirror and whip the towelling headband you use when you wash your face off your head.
You seethe silently in the passenger seat until Jungkook turns to you.
‘Stop breathing so angrily.’
‘I’m sorry my essential functions are expressing unacceptable emotions to you,’ you gripe.
‘That’s not normal breathing,’ Jungkook argues.
There’s a few beats of silence, then Jungkook prods your side.
‘Don’t hold your breath either.’
You suck in an irritated breath and try to moderate your tone. ‘In the future I’d appreciate some notice if we’re going anywhere with a dress code,’ you tell Jungkook.
‘Fine,’ Jungkook agrees. ‘I like short skirts, if I may express a preference.’
‘You. May. Not.’ You say, clipped.
He just laughs to himself as he reverses effortlessly into a slot on the street outside the restaurant.
‘These guys,’ he starts, then breaks off. ‘Are you wearing a bra?’
You cross your arms across your chest defensively. ‘Shut up.’
‘Your tits look great,’ Jungkook says.
‘Shut up!’
Jungkook opens the door to Verve, and you wait nervously next to him.
You can feel eyes on you, as soft and snuggly as your hoodie and sweats are, they make you stand out in all the wrong ways in this place full of people in discreet labels.
You shuffle self-consciously as the host arrives and gives you a none-too-subtle once-over.
He opens his mouth, and Jungkook says, ‘We have a reservation at eight, Frederic said he’d block out the terrace for us.’
The whole demeanour of the host changes at Jungkook’s words.
‘Of course. You must be Mr Jeon.’
You find yourself being ushered through the restaurant and up a back staircase to a huge terrace with heat lamps, a glass ceiling and Koi pond in the centre of the terrace.
‘What the fuck,’ you mutter.
Jungkook gives you his greasiest smile, and you glower at him in response.
The two men he’s here to meet are dressed like mafia consiglieres, and they, like the host, look at you doubtfully as you approach with Jungkook.
‘My lawyer,’ Jungkook says, not bothering to introduce you by name or with any accuracy.
You’re a lawyer, but not his lawyer, and you’re glad for it because you have no obligation to keep any of his assholery confidential.
The mafia guys eye you with renewed respect, and you keep quiet.
‘Before we start, can we order? My lawyer here skipped dinner,’ Jungkook says.
You’re so surprised at his thoughtful gesture you stare at him.
He ignores you, already looking through the tablet one of the men has handed him.
***
The buzzing of your phone is insistent and pervasive, pulling you further and further out of the warm cocoon of the best sleep you’ve had in a while.
You’re floating on clouds, weightless and boneless and warm and in the distance you can see an angel, smiling at you. He’s got dark hair, a physique sculpted by Italian masters, and a tattoo sleeve…
What the fuck!
You bolt upright and your phone falls off your pillow, clattering onto the floor.
You pick it up and accidentally answer, only to be greeted by the grinning ass face of one Jeon Jungkook.
It’s a video call, which means….
He can see you!
With a horrified yelp you toss the phone onto your bed.
‘I’ve already seen everything,’ he assures you, muffled on account of your phone being face down in your sheets. ‘Now you’re awake, can I come over?’
‘What do you want, Jeon Jungkook?’ you snap, pulling your covers up to your neck.
‘I want your opinion on something,’ he says.
‘What’s the magic word?’ you ask.
‘I’ll tell my mum you’re associate material….’
‘Please, don’t act like I don’t deserve that position off my own back,’ you reply, bored.
‘I’ll let you watch me work out shirtless at the gym,’ he offers.
‘Like you’re going to be able to resist posting a gym selfie later,’ you scoff.
‘Please,’ he says.
You sigh. ‘Fine. Give me five minutes to brush my teeth.’
‘Don’t feel you need to put anything on, over that silky pink thing you’re wearing,’ Jungkook tells you.
You hang up without taking the bait.
When he knocks at your door, you give him an assessing look.
‘Does helping you involve anything illegal?’ you ask.
‘I have a date. You’re a woman,’ Jungkook says, adding ‘almost’ under his breath.
You scowl at him. ‘Go on, keep insulting me, that’ll make me want to help you more.’
He holds out a mug. ‘I made you coffee.’
You look suspiciously at it. ‘Did you roofie this?’
Jungkook scoffs. ‘Please why wouldn’t I want you to remember the best sexual experience you’ll ever have.’
‘Get out of my apartment.’
‘No, please,’ he pleads, holding up his hands in surrender. ‘I need your advice on which set to wear.’
You realise he’s also holding a garment bag.
‘Fine,’ you say, waving a hand.
You sip your coffee. It’s surprisingly good, but you nearly choke on it when Jungkook slips his shirt over his head and starts unbuttoning his jeans.
‘Wait!’ you shriek. ‘What are you doing?’
He looks down at his beautiful naked torso, feigning confusion. You know he’s faking because of the smug smirk on his face.
‘I need to try them on so you know what they look like on me,’ he says, innocent.
‘There are two bedrooms in this apartment,’ you say, stern. ‘Use one of them to change. Do not come out until you are fully dressed.’
Jungkook pouts but still flexes a little as he struts past you. You pretend not to notice how his back muscles taper into his slender waist.
As he gets changed, you consider what you might want for breakfast. It’s Saturday, so the brunch place down the corner opens earlier.
Shit! Saturday?
Jungkook mistakes the expression on your face as a reaction to his outfit rather than your own internal screaming.
‘Shit. I knew it. Too much?’ he asks, turning around so you can see how the rips running up the backs of his legs in the jeans he’s wearing go all the way up to the edges of his boxer briefs.
‘No, you look like a sexy whore,’ you say absently, scrolling your calendar.
You look up to see him frowning at you.
‘And yet, you’re not looking,’ he complains.
‘I have a date tonight too,’ you tell him.
He looks so surprised you toss a throw cushion at him.
‘Are you lying because you don’t want me to think you’re a sad workaholic who’s been chronically single since university?’ he asks, with such accuracy you throw another throw cushion at him.
You wonder if that’s why they’re called throw cushions.
‘It’s a blind date,’ you say. ‘My friend Hyunjin set it up. Also I don’t give a shit what you think, at least he’s not an ex-con.’
Jungkook looks hurt. ‘I’m not an ex-con either,’ he points out.
Which reminds you of your arrangement.
‘We can’t both go on dates tonight,’ you say. ‘I’ll cancel.’
‘What, so you can blame me for being single forever? No way. I’ll take care of it. Where’s your date?’
Jungkook pulls his phone out of the pocket of his almost jeans.
You tell him the name of the restaurant.
‘I’ll have my date there too,’ Jungkook decides. He flashes you a smarmy grin that makes you throw your last cushion at him.
He’s already heading out the door. ‘Pick you up later and we can go together,’ he says.
Your door closes behind him, then opens again almost immediately.
‘By the way,’ he says, holding up a pair of your silk panties. ‘I’m borrowing these.’
You fumble for something else to throw at him but he’s already closed the door again.
His infuriating laughter echoes in your ears long after he’s gone.
***
Jungkook’s taunts sound in your head as you get ready for your date.
You gaze in the mirror at your reflection critically.
Is your dress too short? Are your shoulders weird looking? And what the hell is happening with your hair?
You remind yourself that you can’t go another year of being single at your family’s annual get-together. You can already hear your Auntie Rina’s probing questions, your cousin Binna’s smug comments, your brother Jin’s increasingly acidic barbs to anyone who tries to criticise you.
Besides, it’d be nice to meet someone who’d care if you were sick or who’d come over to chase away a spider if it took up residence in your bathtub.
You purse your lips for a coat of lip tint and put the wand back just in time before the familiar, side-of-fist banging on your door starts.
At least he’s consistent, you think ruefully to yourself as you yell, ‘Coming, keep all your clothes on!’
You pull on your coat and belt it snugly as you slip your shoes on.
You nearly get Jeon Jungkook’s fist in your face as you yank open the door.
You duck at the same time he startles and says ‘Shit, sorry!’
‘It’s fine,’ you say, hoisting your bag on your shoulder.
You turn to go and realise he’s still standing by your door, staring at you.
You’re conscious of your heels and bare legs and that you’re wearing more makeup than usual.
‘Spare me whatever is about to come out of your mouth,’ you say, spiky.
You’re honestly one rude comment away from going back into your apartment and your cosy couch. You still haven’t caught up on your drama.
You head for the lifts without looking to see if he’s following.
***
Jungkook holds the door open for you at the restaurant your blind date picked.
‘Do you have a reservation?’ asks the hostess.
You give her your date’s name and she beams at you. ‘Right over here, follow me.’
She leads you to a table where a man is already sitting waiting.
He stands as you approach, and holds his hand out. ‘Jang Junwoo,’ he says.
You introduce yourself and notice he’s looking awkwardly over your shoulder.
You realise Jungkook’s still standing behind you.
‘Can I get you something, Jungkook?’ you ask, teeth gritted.
‘Nope,’ he says, cheerfully. ‘I’m just waiting for you to move so I can take my seat.’
You realise with horror that he’s indicating the table right next to yours in this cosy restaurant.
‘You’ve got to be kidding me,’ you say.
Jungkook winks at you. ‘I hear the steak’s good.’
***
Jang Junwoo is kind of pretentious, you think, but then again a lot of these finance bros are. He spent a minute more than necessary pontificating over the wine’s bouquet, but he’s been polite enough to the waitress, and he has asked you a few questions about yourself.
Looks wise, he’s kind of your type, you think. He’s clean cut, tall and with a lean physique set off by his well-fitted shirt. He’s not got any visible tattoos or piercings, which is fine with you.
You’re not into that at all.
Beside you, Jungkook’s date, a petite bottle blonde in a low-cut dress with the best natural-looking cleavage you’ve seen laughs at one of his jokes.
She’s been laughing a lot, which is funny, because Jungkook’s really not that funny at all.
You realise Junwoo’s asked you a question.
‘I’m sorry,’ you apologise. ‘I missed what you said.’
‘He asked if you like to work out,’ Jungkook supplies helpfully from beside you, barely two feet away.
He leans forward, and in a stage whisper, tells Junwoo, ‘I’ve never seen her in our gym.’
‘Stop eavesdropping on my date,’ you hiss.
Jungkook continues, ‘But she looks good in athleisure.’
He smiles like he’s just helped you, and you turn pointedly away.
‘I’m sorry,’ you apologise again to Junwoo. ‘I’m his court appointed guardian. It was this arrangement or prison, wasn’t it, Jungkook?’
Instead of looking put off, Jungkook’s date looks even more intrigued.
Junwoo, bemused, says, ‘Don’t worry about it. Should we get dessert?’
You split up with Jungkook after dinner when Junwoo suggests a nightcap at a bar nearby.
Jungkook assures you he’ll go straight home.
Looking at the way he and his date are draped over each other, you don’t doubt it. Thankfully, your apartment building was built pre-war and the walls are decent quality.
Junwoo ushers you into the bar, and, alone together with him for the first time all night, you feel your self-consciousness return.
You catch him looking at your thigh where your skirt’s ridden up and when he sees you’ve noticed, he smiles smoothly like it’s no big deal.
He orders another bottle of wine and you let him drink most of it because your tolerance is low.
His tendency towards pretentiousness is more pronounced when he’s tipsy, and it’s when he’s telling you about how you should try to experience genuine Lyonnaise cuisine that you decide you’ve had enough for now.
‘I should go,’ you say, smiling at him. ‘Thank you for a lovely evening.’
‘I’ll escort you home,’ he says. ‘It’s late.’
He pulls on his coat and offers his arm, and you take it because you’re three blocks away from home and you can walk it in under ten minutes.
When you reach your door, you turn and hold out your hand.
‘Thanks again, Junwoo, it was really kind of you to walk me home.’
He takes your hand and shakes, but doesn’t let go.
‘Aren’t you going to invite me in?’ he asks.
‘Not tonight,’ you say firmly, trying to pull your hand away.
‘I paid for dinner, and drinks,’ he points out, like that’s going to convince you.
‘You insisted,’ you counter. ‘Anyway, good night.’
He’s about to say something else but you don’t hear it because the lift dings and the doors slide open, and Jungkook steps out.
His shirt is half undone, and there’s a big-ass hickey on his neck, but you’ve never been so glad to see him.
‘Ah Jungkook,’ you say. ‘Did you have a good night?’
Jungkook pauses in front of you and Junwoo, eyeing the way your hands are still entwined.
‘Yeah, I did. How about you?’ he asks.
‘We’re doing great, bro,’ Junwoo says.
‘Yeah?’ Jungkook asks, eyes on you.
You swallow your pride. ‘Not great, JK.’
‘Yeah,’ Jungkook agrees. He makes eye contact with Junwoo. ‘You should get going, bro.’
Junwoo’s hand tightens around yours. ‘Yeah, bro?’
Jungkook shrugs. ‘You know why she’s my court appointed guardian? I’m not going back to Cheonan.’
At the mention of the notorious maximum security prison, Junwoo’s eyebrows rise.
He squeezes your hand again, hard, then lets you go.
Jungkook stares at him the whole way as he leaves.
As soon as the lift doors close behind Junwoo, you sigh and slump against your door.
‘Thanks, Jungkook.’
‘No worries,’ Jungkook says. He runs a hand through his dishevelled hair. ‘Guess my date went better than yours, huh?’
‘I shouldn’t have let that asshole pay. I knew he’d take it as an invitation,’ you say, ruefully.
Jungkook looks at you. ‘Is that what he said? What an asshole. Jangmi told me not to expect anything.’
You look pointedly at the hickey on his neck, and he laughs but doesn’t say anything else.
You fish your keys out of your bag. ‘Anyway, thanks. Your timing was pretty good.’
‘Yeah I waited in the car outside for you and saw you guys arrive,’ Jungkook says.
You stare at him. ‘What?’
‘Wanted to make sure you got home ok,’ Jungkook says, yawning.
He’s already heading to his own apartment.
‘Hey,’ you call. ‘I didn’t know you were in Cheonan.’
Jungkook laughs. ‘Youth detention centre, not the prison. Spent four months there when I was 14.’
He’s reached his own door.
‘Good night, Y/N. You looked really pretty tonight.’
He smiles at you crookedly and goes inside.
***
Six months earlier
You have no idea why you’ve been summoned to Jeon Mido’s office, and waiting outside in her secretary’s workspace isn’t helping your nerves.
You’ve been working for Albion for two years, and in that time you’ve never met her.
Why would you?
She’s one of the founding partners of Albion, the biggest law firm in the city, and you’re a relative newbie hired straight out of law school two years ago.
You’ve never had cause to venture beyond the tenth floor of this Albion-owned building, and now you’re in the penthouse.
The doors open, and Jeon Mido steps out.
‘Ms L/N,’ she says. ‘Please, come in.’
You take a seat in front of her sleek modern desk and wait.
‘Park Sejun tells me you worked extremely hard on your last case,’ she says, gazing at you. There’s a shrewdness in her eyes that reminds you that she built this law firm from nothing, despite her soft demeanour.
‘Thank you,’ you say.
‘You did an excellent job.’
You thank her again, wondering where she’s going with this. Is she about to dismiss you? Surely Park Sejun could have done that for her.
You haven’t done anything to warrant a promotion.
‘I’m sure you’re wondering why you’re here,’ Jeon Mido says.
She sets her hands on her desk gracefully.
‘I heard what you said about the defendant on your last case. He has a record, he’s been in and out of trouble since he was a teenager. Our client was the plaintiff and you did enough to ensure the win but you didn’t go for the jugular like some of your colleagues would have.’
You get a sinking feeling. Is this why you’re being fired? Because you didn’t completely annihilate your opponent?
She seems to be waiting for a response, so you compose your thoughts.
‘I knew we had enough to win,’ you say carefully. ‘I didn’t want to waste my efforts completely destroying the defendant’s credibility when his only mistake was that he relied on his staff instead of verifying things for himself.’
‘That’s not what you said, though,’ she prompts.
You think frantically but can’t remember anything you said that would have stood out, particularly.
You sigh. If you’re going to get fired, you might as well come clean.
‘My brother Jin got in trouble when we were teenagers,’ you say. ‘He got mixed up with a gang and he was too naive to get out before the gang leader got busted.’
You’ll spare her the details. ‘Anyway, he’s got a criminal record now, and because of it he can’t get a ‘respectable’ job. He couldn’t be a lawyer like me and he’d be a hell of a lot better, if I’m being honest.’
You shrug. ‘He made a mistake but he’s still the best person I know. I guess the defendant reminded me of him.’
Jeon Mido’s looking closely at you, but hasn’t said anything.
‘Thank you for hiring me,’ you say. ‘If you want my resignation —-‘
‘You’re mistaken,’ Jeon Mido says, finally. ‘I don’t want to dismiss you. I wanted to ask for your help.’
Which was how you ended up in a coffee shop with Jeon Mido, waiting nervously to meet her son.
Jeon Jungkook.
She’d filled you in on the details. He was her younger son, and he’d been in and out of trouble with the law since his teenage years for various things. Fighting, stealing cars, and even, hilariously, once for posing as a valet at a high society event and parking all the cars at the foot of Mount Samo for the illegal drag racers to take their pick.
After his most recent infraction she and her husband had sat down with Jungkook and given him an ultimatum to clean up his act or be cut off from his family’s fortune.
You were to be an additional factor to tip the scales in his favour.
Her proposition that you be Jungkook’s unofficial guardian and try to keep him out of trouble had sounded ludicrous at first, you were barely responsible enough to look after yourself. You certainly weren’t responsible enough to become a glorified babysitter to a grown man with a history of getting his own way.
The only reason you hadn’t disagreed to this insane-sounding plan outright was that Jeon Mido had built the very building you worked in, from the ground up, off her own intelligence, strength and force of will, at a time when successful self-made women in South Korea were virtually unheard of.
Additionally, Jungkook had agreed to meet you so he must be somewhat willing to comply with his parents’ ultimatum.
You’d been expecting a degree of charm and good looks in her son, Jeon Mido was an attractive woman, but you still had to stop yourself from staring when Jeon Jungkook arrived.
Tall, broad-shouldered and built like an athlete, he’d smiled at you and offered his hand, and you’d shook it praying your own weren’t clammy with nervousness.
He was so good looking he made you want to throw up.
If this was what a life of crime made Jeon Jungkook look like, it certainly suited him.
He flicked his tongue out over his lip ring, dark eyes on you, and you wondered what that tongue would feel like on your skin.
Fuck.
Fuck.
You were fucked from the moment you saw him, and it was only much later that you realised how bad the damage was.
It’d started off innocently enough. He’d moved into the apartment next to yours.
You’d hung out together a bit to get to know each other, and that first week had been fine.
Then he’d said, casually, one evening, that he was popping out for a cigarette, and he’d be back in fifteen minutes.
It was three frantic days before you found him, in some seedy pool hall, drunk and blazed with a new tattoo and the keys to a Maserati he didn’t own in his front jeans pocket.
He’d made you fish the keys out yourself, and he’d giggled like a schoolgirl the entire time.
After that, you’d been more insistent about sticking to the stipulations his parents had laid out, and had accompanied him everytime he left the apartment after dark.
You’d realised what a mistake that was when he offered to buy you brunch and paid all in unmarked bills out of a duffel bag filled with stacks of cash.
Jeon Jungkook didn’t confine his criminal activity to night times.
Fuck that shit.
Then there was that time he’d offered to pick you up from work in a new car you’d assumed was his parents’. The penny had only dropped when the police sirens had sounded behind you and you’d asked, nervously, if he should pull over.
Jungkook had taken one look in the rearview mirror, and said, dismissively, ‘It’s only one patrol car. I can lose them, easily.’
He’d proceeded to do just that in a high-speed car chase in a stolen car that spanned the busiest road in the city.
It’s the first and only time you’ve been on the seven o’clock news.
On the plus, you’d found out that he really was as good a driver as he’d claimed.
You’d gone to see Jeon Mido in her office as soon as your legs stopped feeling like jelly, ready to apologise and say you weren’t able to do the job you’d agreed to do.
To your surprise, she’d just encouraged you to carry on.
For his part, Jungkook’s always treated you with an irreverent kind of tolerance. He’s annoying as hell and you’ve learned not to trust most of what he says, but for all his sexual innuendo around you, he’s never once crossed the line you’d drawn in the sand at the beginning.
He’s danced along it a few times, though.
By the time you’re six months into your year-long arrangement, you’ve reached an uneasy stalemate with Jungkook.
Sometimes, you almost like the guy.
Annoyingly, he’s also stayed as hot as the day you met him.
***
Present day
You haven’t seen Jungkook in a few days, so you text him to check on him.
You’re already trying to remember how to get to the strip club you found him in the last time he went missing when he texts back.
Jungkook: I’m dying
He’s fucked with you enough times that you’re not all that concerned yet.
Y/N: Yeah? How?
Jungkook: The plague
You consider this as you plate your lunch. You lift a forkful of greens to your lips, then hesitate, and sigh.
Five minutes later you’re knocking at his door.
He answers so quickly you wonder if he was waiting on the other side of it.
He does look like hell, to be fair.
His nose and eyes are red, and he looks pale under his golden tan. He’s wrapped up in a duvet from chin to feet.
‘I’m dying,’ he tells you, melodramatic as fuck.
‘Do you have a cold.’
‘It’s way worse than a cold,’ he insists.
You shake your head, but he does look worse than you’ve ever seen him.
You sigh. ‘When did you last eat?’
Jungkook’s already looking at you so hopefully you haven’t the heart to say anything as you turn back around and let him into your apartment.
‘Try not to infect me,’ you tell him, as you lay a place setting in front of him at your kitchen island.
Jungkook replies, ‘I got my regular tests done last week, all negative.’
You look at him in disgust. ‘With your cold, asshole.’
He leers at you, but it lacks his usual panache.
You serve out the food and sit down opposite him to eat.
‘I always use condoms, anyway,’ he says, after a moment. He winks at you, but it’s still half-hearted.
You pass him a glass of water.
‘Drop the sex pest act for a few minutes,’ you advise him, helpfully. ‘No one’s fucking anyone in the state you’re in, anyway.’
He looks at you, and you can almost see him clicking through the repertoire of innuendoes he has in his head.
Finally, he says, ‘Thanks for this. It’s delicious.’
You tilt your head, pretending to be confused.
‘Did you just say something without sexual connotations, Jeon Jungkook?’
His smile is crooked.
‘Don’t worry, I’m still thinking sexual things about you in my head,’ he assures you.
You laugh. ‘Shut up and eat.’
***
Jungkook starts to look a bit less like death warmed over after he’s eaten, but the clingy asshole’s parked himself on your sofa and shows no sign of moving.
You shrug and put on the TV. At least if he’s with you, there’s less chance of him being in that strip club where there’s no parking outside. What a ballache that had been.
You put on the latest episode of your drama and he perks up.
‘I haven’t seen this episode yet,’ he tells you.
His duvet’s slipped lower, and you’ve yet to see anything but his skin.
‘Please tell me you’re dressed under there,’ you say, warningly.
‘Yeah but I can take it all off,’ Jungkook offers.
You don’t dignify that with a response, just pass him some flu meds and a bottle of kombucha and settle in to watch the show.
After the episode ends he still shows no sign of moving, so you put on a movie and pass him some snacks.
By the time the movie ends it’s dark, and when he asks you what you want for dinner you let him order takeout for both of you.
You eat sitting alongside each other on the couch as the next movie plays.
After a while you realise he’s fallen asleep, and that this is the most male company you’ve had in a while, and that you don’t hate it.
You don’t hate him.
In fact, in the dim light from the TV and with his mouth closed and his hair rumpled over his relaxed sleeping face, he looks…..
Tempting.
Like the boyfriend you could have if you could ever get over yourself enough to date someone seriously.
For some reason that makes you feel a little sad.
That you’re so starved for male company you’re longing after your neighbour who’s only hanging out with you because you’ve made an arrangement with his parents.
If you’re being honest with yourself, he’d probably have never shown an interest in you otherwise.
You pull the duvet over his shoulder, switch off the TV and top up his water and meds before heading to bed.
***
The banging on your door startles you and your elbow jostles the glass on the edge of your kitchen counter. It drops to the floor and shatters, and you think dryly that it’s a metaphor for how close you are to the edge of killing Jeon fucking Jungkook.
You yank open the door with a scowl.
‘Yes, Jeon Jungkook?’
He looks a little edgy himself. ‘I want to show you something.’
‘Is it your dick?’ you ask, tiredly, letting him in.
‘Always, but it’s something different today.’
You glance at the clock. It’s six in the evening.
‘Watch out,’ you say, as he passes the kitchen. ‘I dropped a glass.’
He doesn’t even blink.
There’s a nervous energy about him today, he looks like he’s buzzing out of his skin.
You follow him warily to the window that overlooks the street behind your building.
‘Are we looking out for the police?’ you ask, in a dramatic whisper.
He gives you a half-smile. ‘There were two plainclothes cops staking out the place all of last week. I think they’re dealing out of apartment 4B.’
You stare at him. ‘Are you serious?’
He scoffs. ‘How do you not notice these things?’
‘I never really have to worry about the police coming for me,’ you say, straightfaced.
‘Sucks to be you,’ he says, without his usual conviction.
He reaches down towards his jeans and your scowl returns. ‘Jungkook, I really don’t want to see your dick.’
‘Stop lying,’ he says, but what he takes out is a small black rectangular plastic object.
It’s about the size of half of his outstretched palm.
You wonder where he’s going with this.
He says, ‘Look.’
You both watch as a man in a business suit pulls up to a parking spot on the street, gets out and locks his car. The headlights flash, twice.
He heads into the apartment building opposite yours.
As soon as he’s out of sight, Jungkook hands you the tiny black rectangle.
‘Press the button.’
You press the small grey button, and to your surprise, the car headlights flash again.
The car’s unlocked.
‘What the—-‘
‘It’s a car key cloning device,’ Jungkook says.
He takes it back from you.
‘All I have to do is press it at the same time as the person locking the car presses their own key, and it clones the signal.’
He says, with more than a hint of wistfulness, ‘I could steal any car on this street.’
You’re shaking your head. ‘Where did you get this?’
‘I made it,’ he tells you. ‘I didn’t invent the tech, my friend did, but I made this.’
His eyes meet yours.
‘Can you keep it?’
His words hang in the air between you.
He mistakes your silence for hesitance.
‘I just — ‘
He clears his throat and starts again. There’s pleading in his voice, a wild kind of spark in his eyes.
‘Can you keep it? I don’t want it to be this easy to steal a car tonight.’
You swallow past the lump in your throat. He’s never asked for your help like this before.
He usually goes ahead with whatever impulse he has and you’re stuck playing catch up.
Today, he’s given you a head start.
You take the device from him and stick it in your bra.
‘Don’t try to seduce me to get it back,’ you warn.
He’s already eyeing up your tits.
He clears his throat again.
‘Actually, I’m surprised you managed to fit it in there. Are you on your period? Your tits look huge.’
As usual, you don’t deign to respond.
‘I was going to make dinner,’ you say. ‘Do you want some?’
‘You can cook me dinner,’ he agrees, like he’s doing you a favour.
‘But wait. Let me clean up that glass first,’ he says.
‘It’s fine,’ you say.
He stops you. ‘Nah. Look at your hands.’
You hold a hand out, palm up, and he traces a callused finger along your life line.
Warmth unfurls along your skin, following the path of his finger.
You look up to see him looking at you, heat in his eyes.
Your heart pounds, slow, and his tongue flicks along his lower lip.
When he speaks, his voice has dropped, low.
‘You’ve probably never even changed the oil in your car,’ he says, but he sounds affectionate, almost.
‘I wouldn’t want you to cut yourself.’
He smiles, and lets go of your hand.
Your skin feels like it’s crackling with electricity from his touch, and god help you, you want more.
You don’t trust yourself to speak.
Jungkook says, very quietly, ‘You’re doing something for me, let me do this for you.’
Your eyes meet again, and you find your voice.
‘The oven needs a clean, too, if you’re offering.’
He laughs, and just like that, whatever that moment was, ends.
‘I’ll clean your oven,’ he says, waggling his eyebrows suggestively. ‘Put a bun in it too.’
‘You’re disgusting,’ you complain, trying to punch him, but he’s already too far away.
***
You’re balancing on the back of the couch on your tip toes, trying to reach the lamp shade so you can change the blown lightbulb in your hanging lights, when the now familiar banging starts on your door.
You turn too quickly, lose your balance and fall headlong onto the floor.
The resulting crash against the parquet flooring is all the louder because Jungkook’s stopped banging on your door.
You roll onto your back, groaning a little as the wrist you held out to protect your face flares with pain.
Jungkook’s started banging again, and your phone, out of reach on the coffee table, starts ringing.
You can just about make out his name on the screen, and the ridiculous selfie he took of himself shirtless that he put in as his profile on your phone.
All the racket is enough to make you sit up and hobble to the door.
‘Shit, are you ok? I heard a crash,’ says Jungkook, wide-eyed.
‘I’m not good with blood,’ he warns, but he’s checking you over gently anyway.
‘What was so urgent you needed to bang on my door?’ you ask, grumpy.
He presses your sore wrist, gently, and you wince.
‘I got pizza and wanted to know if you wanted some,’ he says. He ushers you to your couch.
‘I’m getting ice,’ he calls over his shoulder.
‘You could have texted to ask if I wanted pizza,’ you call after him.
He emerges with a bag of frozen peas you didn’t know you had.
‘But then I wouldn’t get to see your face,’ he protests. ‘Also, you never answer my video calls, not since I saw you in your underwear that time.’
You don’t bother correcting him.
He wraps the peas in a towel and passes the bundle to you.
‘Your wrist looks bad, you should get it checked out,’ he advises.
You grimace. ‘I have a case coming up,’ you tell him.
‘Just tell them it was a sex injury,’ Jungkook suggests, helpfully. He offers you a hand to get up. ‘Come on, I’ll take you to the hospital to get checked out.’
‘Fine,’ you say. ‘Grab the pizza.’
***
You’re waiting to see the doctor with Jungkook and trying to ignore the fact that he’s pulled a burner phone out of his back pocket.
He glances around furtively and you’re craning your neck to look at the screen when your name is called.
The doctor who’s said your name looks at Jungkook.
‘Mr Jeon,’ she says. ‘What is it this time? Another broken metacarpal from fighting?’
Jungkook’s face creases into a smile and you can almost hear the adoring sighing of men and women around the room.
‘Dr Lim,’ he says. ‘You know I don’t break my hand anymore since I started winning all the time.’
You gag at his corniness, but Dr Lim just smiles back.
‘Well, you’re always welcome to get checked out for any injuries,’ she says. ‘You have my number.’
‘Did you save it on your burner?’ you ask loudly, but they both ignore you.
By the time you’ve had an X-ray and been told your wrist is just sprained, not broken, you’ve heard enough of Jungkook’s smarmy flirting that your ears are burning.
‘Yeah, I’m still going to the gym every day,’ you mimic, flexing your bicep as you get into Jungkook’s car. ‘Want to feel?’
Jungkook rolls his eyes. ‘I don’t talk like that.’
You give him your sleaziest grin. ‘Wow you have your name embroidered on your white coat? Amazing!’
Jungkook starts the car. ‘Still don’t talk like that,’ he mutters.
‘Yeah, let me take you for a spin in my Skyline sometime,’ you say, puffing out your chest and deepening your voice.
‘Seatbelt,’ Jungkook says.
When you reach for the seatbelt and wince because you forgot about your wrist, he sighs.
You press back into the seat, startled, as he leans over you to fasten your seatbelt for you.
He pauses with his face directly in front of yours.
He’s so close you can feel his breath on your cheek.
He leans forward and kisses you.
It’s a peck, and over before you know it, but it’s enough to shut you up.
‘Stop being cute,’ he says. ‘Or I’ll kiss you again.’
He throws the car into gear.
‘Besides,’ he adds. ‘The only woman I’ve tried to impress with this car is you.’
You’re staring at him, still trying to process, when he adds, thoughtfully, ‘then again, I haven’t had this car very long….’
***
You’re trying to get your suitcase down from on top of your wardrobe when there’s a blur of movement in the periphery of your vision.
You scream and hightail it off the ladder you’re on.
The spider you saw stops right above the corner of the ceiling where your suitcase is.
You’ve already dialled Jungkook without even thinking about it.
He answers with a lazy, drawled, ‘yo’, but his tone sharpens quickly when he hears your voice and panicked breathing.
‘Jungkook. There’s a spider holding my suitcase hostage,’ you whisper, dread in your voice.
‘Why are you whispering?’ Jungkook asks. You can hear the amusement in his voice, and for once you don’t care that he’s laughing at you.
You fight to regulate your volume. ‘It might hear me and attack,’ you say.
It seems completely reasonable to you.
Jungkook laughs so loudly you have to hold the phone away from your ear.
‘What does he want with your suitcase?’ Jungkook asks, when he’s re-composed himself enough to speak.
He’s definitely laughing at you rather than with you, but you’ll take any amount of taunting if he deals with the spider for you.
‘Please,’ you plead, ‘can you get rid of it.’
Jungkook yawns. ‘Ok. But don’t expect me to put on a shirt.’
A moment later he’s in your apartment, looking up at the ceiling at the spider.
‘Just grab the suitcase please,’ you say. ‘The spider can have this room from now on.’
Jungkook snorts.
He grabs the suitcase and places it next to you, then, before you can work out what he’s going to do, he taps on the wall next to the spider and it runs down to the floor.
You scream and jump into his arms.
He really did come over bare-chested, the asshole, and the sweatpants he’s barely wearing are low on his hips, so it’s a little more indecent than you’d like, but there’s no fucking way you’re sharing the floor with a spider that can run faster than you.
Automatically, like he’s done this a lot, Jungkook’s big hand reaches down to support your ass.
He’s still laughing. ‘Is this like, do you want to see my cat, but it’s a spider instead?’
You ignore his taunts and bury your face in his shoulder.
His laughter fades.
‘Shit. Are you crying? Listen, don’t worry. I’ll get rid of it, ok?’
You’re too scared to look at the floor.
‘You don’t even know where it is now,’ you sob.
‘I know exactly where that fucker is,’ Jungkook assures you.
He’s probably lying but you don’t want to check for yourself.
He deposits you onto the bed and tries to peel your legs off his waist.
‘As much as I want to fuck you, let me deal with this spider first, ok?’
At his words, you loosen your legs from around him and he pats your thigh.
‘Stop crying. Stay here and I’ll get rid of it,’ he promises.
It’s several long minutes and muttered curses later before he returns, a little sweaty but with a glass of water for you.
He hands it to you and brushes your hair back from your face as you drink.
‘I didn’t know you were that scared of spiders,’ he says. His tone is gentler than you’ve ever heard it.
‘They bite,’ you say.
‘They bite—-‘ Jungkook trails off, shaking his head.
Jungkook sits next to you on the bed. ‘I’m sorry I laughed at you.’
‘It’s ok,’ you say. You swipe at your tearstained face. ‘Did you get it?’
‘Promise I did,’ Jungkook says. ‘Cross my heart. That fucker isn’t bothering you again.’
‘Where did you put him?’ you ask. ‘In the bin?’
‘Nah. Chucked him out the window,’ Jungkook says. ‘Fuck Spiderman.’
‘Fuck Spiderman,’ you echo.
‘Listen, if you have a spider problem again just call me, ok? Or you can text if you’re worried the spider’s going to hear you. I’ll take care of it.’
Jungkook grins. ‘I won’t put a shirt on either.’
He leans back onto his forearms, and the way his abs stand out make you feel pretty tingly, you’re not going to lie.
‘I don’t mind you staring,�� he tells you. ‘I know I look good.’
You roll your eyes, but he’s been so decent about helping you that you’ll let him have that.
‘What’s the suitcase for, anyway?’ he asks.
You sigh. ‘It’s my annual family get together this Saturday,’ you tell him. ‘My entire extended family go to this beach house and we have dinner together and hang out. It’s been a thing since I was a kid.’
‘Sounds nice,’ he says, but his tone is incredulous.
‘It is nice,’ you say. You smile a little. ‘My grandma cooks and my brother Jin goes fishing and I have so many little cousins now.’
You get up. ‘Of course, there’s the usual round of relatives asking ‘why aren’t you settled down and having babies?’ And my cousin Binna’s a pain, but it’s only once a year.’
‘It’s too bad Junwoo was such an ass,’ you say. ‘I was hoping if I came with a date this year that it’d take some of the pressure off.’
‘I can help,’ Jungkook says.
‘For the last time, Jungkook,’ you say, ‘we are not having a baby together.’
‘Firstly,’ Jungkook says, ‘our baby would be so good looking. But that’s not what I meant.’
He looks tentative for the first time since you met him.
‘I can go with you, if you want.’
***
Your suitcase is by the door, ready to go.
You’re waiting for Jungkook to come by so you can leave together for your family retreat.
You’re not sure what to expect, if you’re being honest. It had felt like a good idea having Jungkook come with you at the time. After all, with the amount of time you’ve spent together over the last few months, he knows recent you as well as anyone.
He’d promised on pain of death and dismemberment that he would refrain from excessive sexual innuendo in front of your elders, but that was all you’d managed to get out of him.
You’re almost afraid to look at him when he knocks on your door.
You start from his feet, in the boots he’s favoured lately, to jeans with no visible rips that you can see in the front, to his fly which is done completely up, to his belt and then a white wife-beater over which he’s layered a black shirt.
When you get to his face he’s smirking at you.
‘Spent a long time checking out my dick,’ he comments.
‘Just checking your fly was done up,’ you say, semi-truthfully.
He lifts your suitcase for you.
At your expression he says, ‘Don’t worry, you can pay me back by giving me a blow job whilst I’m driving us to the coast.’
‘Sounds dangerous,’ you reply.
‘Jagiya,’ he says, smarmy, ‘Danger is my middle name.’
‘Don’t ever call me that again,’ you threaten.
‘Princess?’ he wonders.
‘Shut up and drive, Jeon Jungkook.’
***
Jungkook’s driving is so steady that you fall asleep and wake only when he stops for petrol.
You look around, disoriented, and see him looking at you through the glass of the rear passenger window.
He opens the door. ‘Want anything from the shop?’
You yawn. ‘No thanks.’
When he gets back in the car, you say, ‘Hey, let me know what I owe you for gas.’
He snorts as he drives out of the petrol station. ‘You know my family owns the biggest manufacturing company in Busan, right?’
You shrug. ‘Money ain’t everything.’
He nods. ‘Yeah, money ain’t everything, if you’re just normal rich. I’m fuck you and all your ancestors rich.’
You say, lightly, ‘I’m never paying my share of takeout again.’
He laughs. ‘That’s what I like about you. You don’t give a shit.’
‘That’s not true,’ you protest. ‘How many people would have chased you across town to track you down when you stole that French ambassador’s diplomatic car?’
He’s quiet.
The road stretches out in front of you.
‘I’m seeing someone, you know,’ he says.
‘What?’ you scoff. ‘Who’s dating you?’
‘Not like that,’ he tells you. He glances at you in the rearview.
‘I don’t want you to have to be a crutch for me forever.’
Now it’s your turn to be quiet.
Since that time when Jungkook came over to hand over his key fob cloning device, he’s dropped various things over at your apartment for various periods of time.
A pen drive.
The keys to his Skyline.
His burner phone.
Once, a black jewelled thong, but you think he was just fucking with you that time.
You cleared a drawer in your hall table for him, and things appear and disappear.
He doesn’t always talk about it, not like that first time.
‘I’m glad you’re working on it,’ you say, sincerely.
You lean back in your seat. ‘You know you can always drop stuff off in the drawer if you need to.’
‘Oh in the drawer?’ he says, feigning surprise. ‘What about your spare room wardrobe? I left weed and maybe a couple of stacks in there.’
‘Fucking hell,’ you grumble, ‘No wonder all my linens smell like a college dorm.’
You’re both smiling.
‘Thanks for helping me out with this,’ you say. ‘I appreciate it.’
‘How come you couldn’t get one of those Yonsei dipshits to take you?’
You roll your eyes. ‘Firstly, you asshole, I went to SNU.’
Jungkook snickers.
‘Secondly, sad as it is, you’re the only man I’ve spent any time with lately.’
‘That’s what I mean,’ he says. ‘You’re hot, you put up with a lot of shit and you have an ass that won’t quit. How come you’re not dating anyone?’
You look out the window. ‘You’re right, I’m such a catch, why am I single?’
Jungkook asks, ‘Are you really bad in bed?’
You’d laugh if the turn of conversation wasn’t so depressing.
‘Yeah. I’m really bad.’
‘I wouldn’t mind if you were a pillow princess with me,’ Jungkook says. You think he means it as a compliment.
You say, just to move the conversation on, ‘Did you bring any snacks?’
‘Yeah,’ Jungkook says. He reaches into the center console and tosses you a pack of corn chips. ‘Please feed me too.’
You spend the rest of the drive placing corn chips into Jeon Jungkook’s filthy but admittedly beautiful mouth.
***
You and Jungkook are one of the first to arrive at the beach house. Your parents and Jin are already there.
You’re worried Jungkook might be nervous about meeting your parents, but he surprises you again.
Once introduced, he chats easily with your dad about cars, and you can tell from your dad’s reactions that he likes Jungkook.
Jin nudges you as you follow your parents and Jungkook into the house.
‘Binna’s going to be all over him,’ he says.
Your cousin is beautiful, sexy and could flirt with a rock.
You shrug. ‘Don’t worry, Jinnie. You’re still the prettiest around.’
Jin says, crossly, ‘I wasn’t worried about that.’
You’re both distracted by the arrival of your cousin and her children.
The minivan pulls up almost to the entrance of the beach house, and your cousin Daeun jumps out.
‘Dasom superglued her hand to Jinah’s face,’ she announces grimly.
She hands you baby Taehyun. ‘Can you watch the baby? I’m taking them to the drugstore to see if they can give us anything to get this shit off.’
‘Mama said a bad word,’ chants Dasom.
‘I’ll drive you,’ volunteers Jin.
He ushers Daeun and the girls into his car.
You look for someone to help.
‘Need a hand?’ Jungkook asks, popping up from behind you.
You huff. ‘Can you sort this car out?’
Jungkook appraises the minivan in silence for a moment.
‘Yeah,’ Jungkook replies, serious. ‘It probably won’t sell for much as it is. I’ll have to take it apart to sell it for parts.’
You glare at him. ‘I meant park it, Jungkook, not sell it on the stolen cars black market.’
Jungkook laughs incredulously. ‘Stolen cars black market? What even is that? Have you learnt nothing from the last year?’
Taehyun, in your arms, giggles along with Jungkook.
You can’t believe you’re being ridiculed simultaneously by both a baby and the grown-ass man you’re babysitting.
Jungkook’s still chuckling to himself as he maneuvres the minivan expertly into the space beside his car.
You can see him through the window, the asshole.
***
Jin hadn’t been wrong about Binna being interested in Jungkook. To be fair, even happily married Daeun had given him a second look.
Even your conservative grandmother had looked past all his visible tattoos and piercings and declared him a good boy.
You’re pretending not to notice as Binna, sitting on the other side of Jungkook at the dinner table, leans into Jungkook’s arm as she reaches for the green beans.
Your Auntie Rina fixes you with a look.
‘I’m so glad you finally found a man,’ she says. ‘We were so worried you’d be single forever.’
Beside you, Jungkook stiffens.
‘I wasn’t worried,’ says your mother from opposite Jungkook. ‘Better no man than the wrong man.’
‘It’s true,’ sniffs Auntie Rina. ‘Who was that awful boyfriend of yours who kept asking if you really wanted more helpings? As though there’s anything wrong with your weight…’
You resist the urge to roll your eyes. She isn’t saying anything she hasn’t said before, to be fair.
Jungkook, beside you, nudges his full glass of soju towards you.
‘Is your car the 2019 model outside?’ he asks your aunt. ‘I know a man who can fix it for you.’
‘Fix it?’ Auntie Rina asks.
‘Yeah. Looks like it has a flat tire,’ Jungkook says, wide-eyed, all innocence.
Your eyes meet his, and you choke back a laugh.
As soon as the conversation moves on you turn to Jungkook. ‘Does it really have a flat tire?’ you ask, under your breath.
Jungkook leans so close his lips brush your ear, making your skin prickle.
‘I’ll make sure it does,’ he promises.
After dinner, you excuse yourself to get some air and find Jungkook sitting on the steps leading down to the sand, behind the house smoking a cigarette.
You sit next to him.
‘Thank you,’ you tell him. ‘I hope this isn’t too awful.’
He just smiles, exhales.
‘I’m enjoying it,’ he says simply.
There’s a breeze blowing in from the sea, ruffling his hair.
He’s so pretty like this you’d take a picture if you weren’t worried he’d never let you hear the end of it.
Jungkook reaches out, curls a finger in a lock of your hair.
He opens his mouth like he’s going to say something, but he doesn’t get a chance to.
You lean forward, close your eyes and kiss him.
It’s short and it’s lovely.
You start to pull away, but he cups the side of your face and kisses you back.
His lips are soft, and he kisses you slow, like he wants to learn the shape of your lips with his own.
He hums, deep in his chest, as his lips meet yours.
For all the crass sexual comments he’s made to you over the last year, Jeon Jungkook’s kisses are undemanding, sweet.
When he pulls away, you’re both breathless.
His cigarette glows on the step next to him, forgotten.
‘I knew I’d like kissing you,’ he tells you.
You look down at his hand, somehow entwined with yours.
‘Are you holding my hand?’ you ask.
‘Yeah. You’re a little sweaty but I don’t mind,’ he tells you.
He laughs when you try to pull away.
‘Do you want to come to my room?’ you ask.
He hesitates.
‘I’d like to, but you know, I’m really good at fucking, are you going to be able to keep your voice down?’
‘Shut up, I’ve changed my mind,’ you say, getting up.
He tugs you back down. ‘Hey.’
He waits until you’re looking at him.
‘If you really want me there, I’d love to go to your room,’ he tells you.
For once, he sounds completely serious.
‘Yeah. Come.’
***
You’d been a bit worried it might be awkward, but true to form, Jungkook jumps into your bed and pats the covers like he’s the one inviting you into your own bed.
‘It’s my bed,’ you grumble, but he just laughs.
He kisses you again, his mouth warm over yours. He tastes like the soju he’d been drinking, and he hums when you part your lips to taste more of him.
His tongue licks into your mouth, and when you run your hands over his shoulders he slips his shirt over his head.
He stops you when your hands go to the hem of your top to do the same.
‘Can I?’ he asks.
You nod, and raise your arms to help.
‘Fuck,’ he murmurs. He’s staring at your breasts. ‘I’m going to need to cum on your tits as my last dying wish.’
‘Jeon Jungkook, shut the fuck up.’
‘Screaming my name already,’ he teases, but he starts kissing down the curve of your neck and the whine that falls from your lips is involuntary.
He hums approvingly as your arms tighten around his shoulders.
He dips his head between your breasts and then nips over the curve of your left breast.
He reaches around your back to unhook your bra, waits until you nod to undo it.
‘Pretty,’ he says, then he’s sucking a hickey into your skin, laving with his tongue when you whine in protest.
He’s hard. You can feel him even through the layers of clothing as he grinds his hips on yours.
You tuck the tips of your fingers into the waistband of his jeans and tug. He kisses you again, then pushes up onto his knees on your bed.
He unbuttons, slips his jeans down, and holy fuck, it’s not like you haven’t seen him in his boxer briefs before, but it’s a whole different ball game when he’s looking down at you, heat in his eyes and his dick so hard your mouth waters at the sight of it.
No pun intended.
Jungkook pushes your hands away when they go to your own waistband.
‘Let me do it,’ he says.
He tugs your jeans down over your ass and thighs.
‘Fuck,’ he breathes. ‘These silky panties look even better on you.’
You press a hand over his open mouth.
‘Shut up and fuck me,’ you say.
You trail your hand over the length of him in his briefs, and then he’s moving fast, fumbling with his jeans.
He pulls out a strip of condoms and catches your eye.
You giggle at how ridiculous he looks, and a moment later, he’s laughing too.
‘How many times —‘
You’re cut off by his mouth on yours.
‘Many. I’ll fuck you as many times as you want,’ he tells you, breath hot on your cheek.
He nudges your thigh with his. ‘Spread.’
He fits himself between your legs and kisses you again.
The blunt head of him nudges you, and you don’t realise you’re holding your breath until he’s in you all the way and you’re dizzy with pleasure.
He buries his head in your neck.
‘Fuck. You feel so fucking good,’ he groans.
He moves, a slow stroke that makes you arch into him.
You moan his name, and he moves again, rocking his hips against yours, deep, hard.
You close your eyes but realise what a mistake that was when you open them again and see how beautiful Jeon Jungkook looks when he’s fucking you.
He hooks a forearm around your thighs and drags you to the edge of the bed so he can stand and fuck you.
Fuck, how have you never realised how strong he is?
He smirks at you, and you’d want to slap it off his face except he’s doing something with his hips now that’s making the pleasure spiral and you’re two short steps from —-
He lowers his mouth to yours again and then you’re coming, legs wrapped around his hips, his chest flattening yours, his sweat all over you.
He murmurs what sounds like approval as he fucks you through it.
You gasp his name and he groans, fucking you harder, speeding up and then slowing until he comes, buried deep inside you.
He pulls out, yanks off the condom with a whine and ties it off, dropping it on the floor carelessly. He collapses down next to you, panting.
For a moment you’re both quiet.
Then he says, ‘Shit. That was way better than jerking off with those panties I stole.’
You slap him on the chest. ‘Shut up, asshole.’
‘Stop flirting with me. I need a minute before we can go again.’
Jungkook grins at you but he’s still got an arm around your hips and his thigh slotted between yours so you can’t be too mad.
***
You wake up to bright sunshine right in your face even though you drew the drapes last night before you went to bed because Jeon Jungkook is halfway in your open window.
You sit up, confused as hell.
‘What the fuck—‘
You can’t work out if he’s coming or going.
You get your answer then he drops into your room with a thud.
‘Sorry,’ he says. ‘Forgot to slash those tires last night.’
‘You didn’t?!’
‘Keep your voice down,’ he advises. ‘We don’t want her to know it was me.’
You’re speechless.
‘Did you seriously just —‘
‘Don’t finish your question so I don’t have to answer it,’ Jungkook tells you.
He’s getting undressed again, kicking off his shoes, staring hard at your bare chest half covered by the duvet.
He jumps back into bed with you and you greet him with another kiss.
His hand trails over the curve of your breasts.
‘Let’s not talk about it again,’ you say.
‘Yeah,’ he agrees.
‘Do you want to come on my tits?’
Jungkook groans. ‘Fuck, yeah.’
***
You’re back at home in your apartment unpacking when the familiar banging on your door starts.
You yank the door open. ‘You literally just left, Jeon Jungkook,’ you complain, before you realise he’s not alone.
Jeon Mido, Jungkook’s mother and your boss, is standing outside your door and you’ve still got sand in your hair from fucking Jungkook on the beach before you left the beach house.
Jungkook adjusts the collar of his shirt in a vain attempt to hide the hickey you gave him.
‘I’m sorry,’ you apologise. ‘I wasn’t expecting you.’
Jeon Mido smiles graciously at you.
‘Jungkook tells me he met your parents over the weekend,’ she says.
‘They liked him a lot,’ you tell her, wondering where she’s going with this.
She nods. ‘Good. I thought maybe you’d like to come to dinner with us tomorrow night. My husband would love to meet you.’
You’re so surprised you can’t do anything but accept.
Jeon Mido smiles at you and takes her leave.
You turn to Jungkook. ‘What was that?’
Jungkook shrugs, shaking sand out of his jeans pockets.
‘She’s always said she wants to meet my girlfriends.’
He’s not looking at you directly, and the tips of his ears are red.
‘What?’
‘I don’t know,’ he says, finally. ‘I’ve never had a girl I’m dating meet my parents before.’
‘We’re not dating!’
He’s looking at you now. ‘Aren’t we?’
The way he’s looking at you gives you pause.
‘We see each other every day. We hang out at each others’ places. You help me with my problems and I help you with yours. I’ve met your family.’
He smiles. ‘And you’re the most fucking amazing girl I’ve ever met.’
You stare at him.
‘Unless,’ he continues, ‘you just want to be fuck buddies. I’m down with that too.’
He looks like he’s about to turn away so you grab his arm and tug him towards you.
‘Ok, Jeon Jungkook, I’ll date you,’ you say.
He nods. ‘I thought so.’
He leans down so you can kiss the smug smirk off his face.
©hamsterclaw 2024
With thanks to bloviating-vy for introducing me to the phrase 'fuck you rich' and the works of Smashy for the immortal phrase 'Yonsei dipshits'.
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
i love you, i’m sorry
— m.s
in which . . . matt accidentally confesses something he shouldn’t have in the heat of an argument.
genre/trope . . . enemies to lovers, angst. (resolved)
warnings . . . arguing, kissing & more.
written by . . . @delilahsturniolo. do not copy, steal, or re use my works. do not take inspiration without asking permission first. happy reading! :)
“lay on the horn to prove that it haunts me.”
“i love you i’m sorry.”
you and matt have known each other your entire lives, which was unfortunate for the both of you. you may be asking yourself, if you’ve known each other for so long shouldn’t you be best friends?
well, it was quite the opposite actually. you and matt have hated each other for whatever reason, it was a rivalry between you two. you guys couldn’t even be in the same room without bickering, when your family and matt’s family hung out it was absolute hell for you.
all you wanted was to avoid matt at all costs, no matter the circumstances. however, you always got along with matt’s brothers.
you and matt never had a reason to hate each other, in fact you tried being nice to him sometimes. you both just never got along, bickering and complaining about each other 24/7. if you got a dollar for how much you both piss each other off everyday, you’d be filthy rich.
but, matt wasn’t a complete jerk. he didn’t completely despise you, sometimes he held the door open for you. other times, he would slam it shut in your face. matt absolutely adored teasing you, and doing small gestures just to make you annoyed at him. that was something he never failed at.
you had sort of a mixed and unsure feeling about matt. you were confused, you didn’t know how he felt about you. did he hate you, or not? even better question, did you truly hate him?
yes, of course you did. you were supposed to, you can’t love him. but…you felt something different over the past few weeks. as much as you hated to admit it, nowadays you didn’t mind his presence. just a few months ago, you’d rather get hit by a bus than be near him. but other days, he pissed you off more than anything. you hated him…but you didn’t at the same time.
you didn’t know what this feeling was, it made you sick. falling for your childhood enemy? it was impossible, it couldn’t happen. you hated it, you couldn’t make it stop. all you could do was push down your true feelings, and keep pretending.
so now here you were, in the present. it was pretty late in the night. you were at the triplets house, in the kitchen. nick was out for a space camp photoshoot, while chris was sleeping in his room.
you leaned against the counter, scrolling mindlessly on your phone as you popped a potato chip in your mouth, feeling the salty sensation sink on your tongue. quietly humming to yourself, you took in the peaceful silence. that is, until you heard the front door open.
matt walked in the house, going right into the kitchen. he huffed as he saw you, rolling his eyes. you bit your lip, not even acknowledging him.
matt walked over to the counter, shoving you over with his body so he could get by. you grunted, your phone clattering to the floor.
“dude, can you not?” you scoffed, pissed off as you picked your phone up from the floor. matt turned on the sink, beginning to wash the dishes.
“can you not with the attitude?” matt mocked you, not even batting you an eye. usually you would just flip him off and leave, but you didn’t this time. you wanted to confront him, show him that you weren’t a pussy.
to the both of you, arguing was a competition. you would just keep going on and on until one of you backed down, and usually it would be you. however, not this time.
“i don’t have a fucking attitude.” you crossed your arms, the back of his head facing you as he aggressively scrubbed a plate. you were testing his limits, and you found pleasure in that.
“whatever floats your boat.” matt shrugged, laughing to himself. “do you always have to be so annoying?” he continued, which only provoked you more.
you rolled your eyes and sealed the bag of chips shut. “do you always have to be so mean to me all the time?” you shot back at him. matt turned off the sink water, wiping his hands before turning around to face you. “i’m not mean, sweetheart. come on, is that all you got?” matt teased you, knowing it would make you annoyed.
“shut up!” you raised your voice at him slightly, making him scoff in disbelief.
“what the fuck is your problem?” matt raised his voice back at you, you weren’t in the mood for this right now. your frustration was building up by every passing second.
“you, matt! you’re my problem!” you shouted back at him.
“my fucking goodness, y/n. you’re always starting shit, aren’t you?” matt complained, throwing his hands up in the frustration. you simply said nothing.
“what? cat got your tongue?” matt darkly chuckled. you rolled your eyes, starting to walk away. matt only followed after you.
you stomped outside into the driveway, it was the dead of night. you suddenly felt matt grab your arm, turning you around to face him.
“let me go, matt.” you spoke fiercely, trying to yank away from him. his grip only grew tighter, he completely ignored your protests.
“y/n, stop it. listen to me.” matt told you, you only shook your head.
“get away from me, matt. i hate you.” you remarked, matt shook his head. “no you don’t.” he pulled you closer.
the cold wind blew in your hair, matt’s eyes pierced into yours. “what are you talking about?” you questioned him.
“you don’t hate me.” matt shrugged, you weren’t even trying to pull away from him anymore. something was drawing you to him, and you didn’t mind it for once.
“yes i do! you don’t care about me!” you argued back, matt completely snapped at you.
“of course i care, y/n! how could i not care? i care more than anything in the world.” he shouted.
“since when did you start caring about me!?” you scoffed in disbelief.
“since fucking forever, you idiot!”
and those exact words, the moment they came out of his mouth silenced you. which by the way, was a rare occurrence. your lips parted slightly. “what?” you murmured.
matt let go of your arm, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “i love you, okay? i love you so fucking much, goddamnit! i’m sorry i fell in love, i can’t do shit about it and…i didn’t want it to happen, y/n.” matt blurted out. what? this was the absolute last thing you were expecting.
“you…what?” you spoke softly. your mind was racing with a million thoughts at once. matt was in love with you? your heart began to beat faster as you looked into his eyes.
“you think i wanted this to happen? trust me, i’m just as confused as you.” matt’s voice broke. you both stood across from each other, goosebumps raising onto your arms.
“i love you too, matt.” you whispered. matt’s gaze immediately softened.
“but…the thing is i can’t. i can’t love you. it won’t work out. we can’t be together and you know that.” you muttered, looking away from him as you said that.
“you don’t get it. it’s not that easy to lose feelings for you, if i could i would. i can’t lose feelings for someone i’ve loved for so fucking long.” matt’s voice came out shaky as he expressed all of his emotions.
you sighed, stepping closer to him. he looked down at you, his eyes growing glossy. your hand traveled up his chest and to the side of his neck, matt’s breath hitched at this action.
before he even knew what was going on, you leaned in, pulling him in for a kiss.
both of your lips connected, your heart felt full, as if you had been needing this your entire life. matt groaned against your lips as the kiss grew more and more passionate, more hungry.
you both wanted this badly, you craved each other more than anything. this felt so wrong in your brain, but yet so fucking right in your heart.
matt’s hands gripped your waist tightly as you wrapped your arms around his neck, your lips continued to dance with his, you felt his soft and supple lips crash against yours once more.
matt pulled away from the kiss, not letting go of you though. you looked up at him, a smirk creeping up on your face.
“mmm..you’re not so bad after all.” matt hummed, his finger lifing your chin up with dominance.
“i’m gonna murder you, sturniolo.” you teased, matt only chuckled, his hand moving to your cheek, caressing the skin gently.
“you wouldn’t.” matt smiled down at you, before leaning into your face once more, his lips colliding with yours again.
maybe loving him wasn’t so bad after all.
© delilahsturniolo
join the taglist here! ✉️
#sturniolo triplets#the sturniolo triplets#matt sturniolo#sturniolo fanfic#sturniolo x reader#matt x reader#matt sturniolo x reader#matthew sturniolo#sturniolo#matt sturniolo fanfic#matt sturniolo angst#matthew sturniolo imagine#matt sturniolo imagine#sturniolo angst#sturniolo fandom#fanfic#sturniolo x you#angst#sturniolo imagine#Spotify
422 notes
·
View notes
Text
When You Know You Know — Quinn Hughes
Summary; In which you, Quinn and your loved ones recount the early days of your relationship
Content Warning: wedding ceremony inaccuracies, fluff
You laughed into your palms as Jack took the microphone and grinned sheepishly, “Hey guys! I’m Jack, the cooler of Quinn’s brothers.” You turned to your husband, “How bad are we expecting this to turn out?” Quinn laughed, “Almost as bad as Trevor standing up after the minister said ‘speak now or forever hold your peace’ and saying ‘don’t nobody say nothing’.” Jack grinned as you turned to face you and his brother, “I have one text from a Quinn Hughes, dated December 9th 2018. Jack no joke, I just met my wife. She’s perfect.”
Jack turned to face your wedding guests, “It should be noted that the first two weeks of December that year there was a horrendous snow storm in Vancouver so I initially didn’t believe him. Until he FaceTimed me the next day trekking through the snow holding a bouquet of lavenders that was bigger than his head, which is ideally a huge thing of flowers. He told me he was going to meet a girl for dinner. He called me again the next day, this time he was demanding to speak to our mom to learn how to make pasta as he was having someone over for dinner.”
Jack’s story earned laughs from the guests. Jack smiled at you and Quinn as he continued, “This continued through the remainder of December and the majority of January. It was nearing a month he’d been needing dating advice. So he called me once again trekking through the snow, but that time he wasn’t alone.” Jack turned to face you with a smile, “I was complaining about whatever stupid crap a 17 year old boy would. And then I saw Quinn get pelted in the face with a snowball. Then I heard Y/N squeal as she and Quinn ran through the snow covered streets of Vancouver throwing snowballs at each other and giggling.”
You laughed softly as you melted into your husbands side into a warm embrace, “I quickly learned that Y/N was perfect for my brother which was unexpected because Y/N is classy, kind and beautiful and Quinn is not. But after meeting her I have never had to question or wonder if my brother made the right choice. Because from the moment I met her, Y/N has shown nothing but grace, love and support for not just Quinn but my entire family. I could not be more proud to say, welcome to the family sis.” Your eyes welled with tears as you stood to go hug Jack, “I always wanted a little brother to annoy.” Jack smiled as he hugged you, “I always wanted a sister.”
You returned to your seat next to your husband as your best friend, Gracie stood up with the microphone, “I hold here a hot pink notebook sheet of paper dated April 13th 2006, it reads ‘GG I have a secret. I have to tell someone so your my friend now that I told you. Mrs Tkachuck’s son is cute. He is always skating at recess. I think he has really nice hair, maybe my husband will too. Anyways I got peanut butter sandwiches for lunch what did you get?’ This was the first note I ever received.”
You covered your face with your hands as you heard your husband whisper, “Please tell me it wasn’t Brady.” You laughed as Gracie continued, “The boy in the note did have really nice hair. Matthew Tkachuck everyone. That note would be seen as two 7 year old girls agreeing that a 9 year old was cute and bonding over lunch. But for me that singular note written in real glitter pen by the 7 year old who had no friends because she didn’t let anyone say anything mean to her. You, Y/N changed my life at just 7 years old.”
Quinn squeezed your hand reassuringly as you blinked back soft tears as Gracie continued, “You wouldn’t know this, because I never told you. But on Friendsgiving in 2018, when I pulled the longer side of the wishbone. I wished for you to find someone who would alter your life the way you altered mine. And then 13 days later I got a voicemail from you at 3 am. You had claimed you found the love of your life and his name was win. I unanimously decided that his name probably wasn’t actually win but more likely Quinn.”
You felt your gaze soften as Quinn pressed a kiss to your temple as your best friend finished her speech, “To my beautiful, perfect, amazing and wonderful best friend. To the rest of your life with a guy who treks through the snow a day after meeting you. PS your husband did end up having good hair.” You and Quinn erupted into soft giggles as you looked at each other. You smiled up at Quinn, “I so would have written love notes to you in teal glitter pens.” Quinn laughed, “I would trek through a million snowstorms to bring you flowers.”
You melted into a kiss as your mother in law took the stage, “My biggest baby. In your entire life I have only seen you love three things. Your family, hockey and the beautiful woman that is sitting next to you. And none of those things are in order. From the moment I met Y/N it was clear to me that you loved her more than anything else in the world. It’s in the eyes. You, Quinn Hughes have very telling eyes. I could tell by your eyes when you pushed Jack face first down a slide when you were 5 and he was 3. I knew from the look in your eyes the first time you snuck out. And I knew when I saw your eyes light up when Y/N offered to take Jack and Luke to hockey practice so me and your father could have a break.”
Ellen continued as she smiled at you, “I knew that you were long gone, there was no coming back. You were head over heels for her and honestly I think I was a little bit as well. For as long as I remember you and your brothers never liked each others friends or associates. Don’t get me started on girlfriends. But Jack and Luke came home and would not shut up about how much they liked Y/N. I knew then that she was perfect for you and she fit like a missing puzzle piece of our family. So it didn’t come as a shock to me when you called me less than a year later asking me to help you pick out engagement rings.”
Your jaw dropped, you hadn’t known that Quinn had thought about marrying you so quickly. Ellen smiled at you and her eldest son, “To my beautiful son and his even more beautiful wife. Watching you two navigate life together has been one of the most gracious gifts I’ve ever received.” You smiled warmly at your mother in law as you rested your head on your husbands shoulder, “So I’m picking up on the fact that apparently everyone around us including us knew from the beginning of our relationship that we’d end up here. Is it just me?” Quinn kissed your cheek, “Nope, definitely not just you.”
#hockey player x reader#fanfic#hockey#nhl#nhl fanfiction#vancouver#vancouver cancuks#vancover canucks#quinn hughes x y/n#quinn hughes x you#quinn hughes x reader#quinn hughes#Quinn Hughes fics#wedding
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
𝐈 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔, 𝐈'𝐌 𝐒𝐎𝐑𝐑𝐘, bradley bradshaw
♡ ✈︎ authors note: guys i'm attempting to write again! this is gonna be so sad or not necessarily sad I guess? idk lol - also this is based on the song "I love you, I'm sorry" by gracie abrams.
♡ ✈︎ summary: you and bradley had been in a semi-serious relationship, at least it was to you. that was until you asked him about you and his future. he decided to end it that day. completely breaking your heart. you wanted to settle down and he wanted to fly. communication was completely cut off after the breakup. that was until bradley almost gets shot down by an enemy aircraft. his mindset changes.
♡ ✈︎ pairing: bradley bradshaw xf! reader
♡ ✈︎ warnings: lots of angst. mentions of a near death experience.
────୨ৎ────
it has been three months since you've talked to bradley bradshaw. three months since you've seen him. he's blocked you on all social media, but of course that's never stopped you from reaching out to phoenix to ask her how he's been. even if he completely broke your heart over wine and reality tv.
you still loved the pilot.
you were sitting on the ugly jean blue couch that once belonged to you and bradley but its just yours now. you were curled up on the couch reading another sappy romance novel, light music playing in the back. it was a regular saturday night. you would usually be at the hard deck bar with bradley's all- so -familiar arm around your shoulder as you laughed at something stupid with pheonix and bob.
you miss the feeling of his arm around you. his smile when he'd talk about his mom with you. or his stupid dancing in the kitchen. the scars on his face and neck. everything about the man.
however, he didn't want you anymore. he left you. he didn't want the pickett fence and the golden retriever with the two kids. no, bradley wanted to fly. he wanted the rush of dogfights and the pride of fighting for the country he loved more than he wanted a family with you.
and that hurt. you knew you couldn't ask him to give that up. of course not, he loved flying with his entire heart. you wouldn't ever ask him to give that up, but just the fact he didn't want to give up a little bit of that for you that hurt. you realized the night he broke up with you his heart wasn't all for you the way you're heart was all for bradley.
you sighed as you went back to reading your novel, until your phone dinged on the coffee table. you weren't expecting anyone to message you, especially not at 1:18am.
you assumed maybe it was your best friend ranting about her new situationship of the month. bradley hated her drama.
what you didn't expect was for your heart to completely drop when you saw bradley's caller I.D to show up on your screen.
what you really didn't expect was the message he sent.
I know this is sudden. I almost died today. I don't want to get into the details of it. It made me realize that I've been such a coward and I want what you want now y/n. I can't imagine my life without you. I love you, I'm sorry.
is this real? you thought as the book that was in your left hand dropped to the soft carpet that you and bradley have too many times danced on.
you feel tears brim your eyes as you put the phone on the coffee table and contemplate if you message him back. is he okay? is he hurt? is he realizing that he actually loved you? these thoughts ran through your mind.
nobody could fake the way he looked at you, not even him. cause you sure didn't fake the way you looked at him.
what do I say? what do I say? the four same words raced in your mind. do you text your best friend? your mother?
what? > sent
that's all I could come up with? you mentally scolded yourself for the pathetic, boring response. but then again, what were you supposed to say? this was the same man who walked out of your life just as quick as he walked in.
your phone rang the familiar text tone;
I miss you y/n. I miss us. and I just now realized that and I'm so sorry. being in that cockpit today not knowing if I was going to make it made me realize how much I loved you and that I want that pickett fence and even the stupid dog. It changed my perspective on everything.
tears fell down your face as you stare at the message.
come over. let's talk.
you sent without even thinking of the response twice. is this a bad idea? probably. you quickly stand to your feet and try to clean up the fact you've been sitting on this couch for at least 5 hours. you wipe your face and run to the bathroom to brush your hair before bradley shows up. what if he doesn't? is this a joke?
I'm on the way.
what am I thinking?
────୨ৎ────
♡ ✈︎ authors note: SO what do we think? let me know! part two?
#top gun maverick#bradley bradshaw#miles teller#bradley bradshaw x reader#bradley bradshaw x female reader#bradley bradshaw angst#bradley rooster bradshaw#rooster bradshaw#rooster bradshaw x reader#bradley bradshaw fluff
299 notes
·
View notes
Text
──── IN BETWEEN
ETHAN LANDRY x reader
#SYNOPSIS: based off of in between by gracie abrams; he wants it more than everything in between #CONTAINS: best friends to lovers, mutual pining, fluff!!! #AUTHORSNOTE: my first fic ever so pls be nice, any constructive criticism welcomed! 1.8k word count.
There was something going on between you two, the entire group could feel it- see it. Nobody could come between you, it was almost electric, the chemistry. You've got your own thing; they wish that you two could see it.
It started at a frat party to kick off the upcoming Blackmore school year. It was huge, far too many people were crammed into one space, and inevitably, you bumped into him.
"Oh!" you gasped as you practically slammed into him, spilling the contents of the red solo cup in your hands, making you curse under your breath. "I'm- I'm so, so sorry!" your words slur a bit, you've already had a little too much to drink, and your hands immediately moved to grab his arm to stabilize yourself.
"Let me fix it!" You don't even give him a chance to respond, you're already tugging him through the crowd and into the crowded kitchen, grabbing napkins and pressing them into the wet stain on his shirt.
"It's- It's okay." He tries to say over the music, but it falls on deaf ears, as you speak over him. "What's your name?"
The question catches him off guard for a second, and he can't help but glance around for his much more outgoing and social roommate as he speaks over the music. "Ethan."
"What?" You respond dumbly, leaning closer to him to hear him better.
"Ethan!" He tries again, speaking a little louder this time, his cheeks burning from the alcohol in his system and the proximity.
"Evan?" You say, brows stitching in confusion. Ethan shakes his head and leans in a little closer, a small smile forming on his face as he stops your hands movements with his own to get your full attention.
"It's Ethan." He corrects loudly this time, taking the napkins from your hands to dab at his shirt himself. You absentmindedly nod your head, mouth opening in a soft 'ohh' that tells Ethan you definitely didn't hear him still, and he can't help the way he grins and throws his head back in a laugh.
And you can't help the way you smile at the sound, laughing alongside him, even though you didn't find it all that funny, his joy was infectious to you, almost magnetic.
The rest of the friend group knew you two had something special, from the way Ethan dropped everything when you called, stopping mid-conversation if the phone rang with your caller ID like he couldn't stand the idea of letting you wait, or god forbid, missing your call.
"What if it's important?" He'd say when someone questioned him, they wished he'd stop pretending he wouldn't let his phone ring for more than a couple of seconds, maybe two.
Just two hearts falling in and out of love for something new.
The rest of the group wished that you could see it, the way you both light up the room with your smiles alone when you're together. They wished that you could see it, the spark in his eyes when he talks about you, or the way he looks at you when he thinks no one is looking.
Not that you were any better, of course.
There was one day when the group was hanging out in the Carpenter sisters' apartment, it was supposed to be a quiet movie night, you were all wearing matching pajama pants, there were snacks surrounding the coffee table, and they were all piled onto the furniture, and you and Ethan had squeezed into an armchair together.
It was the best seat in the house, you'd both said. Nobody argued or complained, allowing you both to cram into the armchair together despite the ample space on the couch, sharing knowing looks as you and Ethan fought over the blanket you were sharing.
About halfway through the film, Ethan had maneuvered himself to be leaned across your lap, laying his head on the armrest as he made himself comfortable. You tore your attention away from the movie, glancing down at him, expression softening as your hand moved to his head, absentmindedly playing with his hair, gently moving it out of his eyes so he could still see the television.
"Look at them," Tara whispers to Mindy from her spot on the couch, gesturing towards the unassuming pair. "They're so... domestic."
"they're so obvious-" Mindy says, but she's cut off by Chad's snickering. "The other day, Eth asked me if I wanted a peanut butter and y/n-ly sandwich."
"Who do you think will make the first move?" Tara asks quietly, turning her attention towards the two, who were, by now, curled up around each other, fast asleep as the rest of their friends placed their bets.
Ethan never was the party type, but for you, he'd go.
He'd go just to see that tipsy, lopsided smile on your face as you mingled in the crowd, he'd endure the loud music just to hear your voice, just barely over the music, calling out to him as you stumbled over to him.
He'd always imagined that it'd be one of these parties that he'd confess to you since this is how you two had met. There was something… romantic about seeing you in low, neon lights. He can't help the way his eyes soften as you stumble into his awaiting arms, he'd always be there for you.
"Ethan!" You say over the music, hands on his arms to stabilize yourself. "Dance with me!"
"What!" He responds, a grin plastered on his face. "No way!"
"Come on!" You plead with him.
He shakes his head again, still grinning at you, he's too busy admiring your eyes under the lights to bother indulging you. "Fine," you huff. "I'll dance with someone else."
His heart drops at your words, but he's left letting out a sigh of relief when it's Tara that you go to, who, bless her heart, is just as drunk as you are. Ethan can't help but laugh at the sight of you two dancing in each other's arms, carefree and drunk well off your asses.
He does that often, he realizes. He laughs so often with you, it's like everything about him is so much brighter in your presence, you light a fire within him, and he doesn't know how to put it out, but he doesn't think he wants to.
Ethan feels two hands gripping his shoulders, jolting him out of his daydreams as he turns to face who it is, coming face to face with Chad, who gives him a slight shake, before leaning in to talk into his ear.
"Just talk to her man!" He says, jostling him further as he grinned at him.
"Who?" Ethan replies, but he knows who, he hasn't been able to take his eyes off said 'who' all night.
"Don't play dumb with me." Chad scoffs, and Ethan finally peels his attention away from you to roll his eyes at him and respond, except he's interrupted by yelling cutting through the loud music,
He turns immediately, eyes searching for you in the crowd, and he spots you just in time to watch you get a drink thrown in your face, instantly wiping away the apologetic look you had on your face, leaving you standing there, sopping wet.
Shame and embarrassment flood your system, sobering you up in an instant as people whisper amongst themselves about your misfortune. Your eyes search for Ethan amongst the crowd, making eye contact with him before you bolt out of the party with tears in your eyes.
Ethan doesn't hesitate to call after you, following you out before you can spend another second alone.
He catches up to you about half a street down from the frat house, calling out to you, which, for the first time, you ignored. You wrapped your arms around yourself, the cold night air chilling you through your soaked top.
"Just- slow down!" He says finally, grabbing your arm and pulling you back to him.
You're spun around to face him, and he almost falters at the sight of your tears, your makeup staining your tear-stricken face. You shake your head at him before a sob rips through you.
He hates it when you cry, the way your sobs rip through his heart. He hates it when you frown, and your features contort so painfully. It makes him ache, it breaks his heart into pieces.
He pulls you into his arms, not caring about the way your makeup smudged onto the fabric of his shirt as you buried your face into his chest. He rubs your back in soothing circles.
"This party was lame anyway." He whispers. "Let's get you home."
It's late, you two are curled up on your couch, your head on his chest and his arms wrapped around you as he whispers into your ear to try and cheer you up, his fingers are messing with your hair.
"You're... you're beautiful, and funny, and smart like nothing I've ever seen." He murmurs, loose-lipped from the alcohol he'd consumed not even an hour prior.
You loved how he talked late at night when it was just the two of you, like you were the center of his universe, saying things nobody had ever said to you before.
"You think so?" You asked, voice soft and still disheartened.
"Yeah." He says, not skipping a beat. "Yeah, I know so."
You sit up, leaning into him to press your forehead against his, a smile playing on your lips as you cheekily respond.
"You're not too bad yourself" You murmured.
"Yeah?" He grins.
"Yeah." The sight of his grin made your eyes soften, a soft grin on your lips.
Hesitantly, he raised a hand to cup your face. There's a slight tremble to his hand, like he's nervous. This was it, he tells himself. This was it.
"You... you know you're my best friend, right?" He asks you quietly. "I mean-- I know you know, but like, do you? Do you know how important to me you are? Because you're super important to me."
"I mean, there's... there isn't anyone who even comes close to you in my eyes, you're like-" He's cut off by lips crashing onto his, stopping his rambling with a gentle kiss.
It feels like there's holy ground beneath them, and Ethan swears there are sparks flying as he kisses you back. The kiss is clumsy, but it's sweet, slow, and full of unspoken adoration.
Ethan pulls back with a fond expression, you're both red-faced and grinning like fools, and you lean in to kiss him again, but you're interrupted by the door to your apartment opening.
"I owe Tara so much money now." Chad groans, the rest of their group behind him, while their friends whooped and hollered.
"Get out!" You grabbed a throw pillow from the couch and threw it in their direction, Ethan just laughed, his hand finding yours.
He loves you more than everything in between.
#ethan landry#scream x reader#ethan landry x reader#ethan landry x y/n#ethan landry imagine#ethan landry fanfiction#scream 6 imagines#ethan landry x you#scream fanfic#scream vi imagine#scream vi imagines
76 notes
·
View notes
Text
You're Not Just My Best Friend
Gracie Abrams x Reader
Word Count: 1,505 words
Trigger Warning: miscommunications, public displays of affection
Synopsis: 1) Guys, I had to turn to ChatGPT for some writing ideas because I'm head empty from midterm season soooo please request. 2) Here is the angsty fic idea it gave me. In which the pressure of tour and her feelings for the R becomes overwhelming, Gracie decides to talk to R about it. Only, the conversation leads to a misunderstanding and fallout. R still can't help but go to Gracie's show after a message from her brother and the two confront each other and their feelings.
Requests are open. < Please guys, on my knees begging.
Gracie Abrams handpicked (Y/n) (L/n) to be her friend of their first day of kindergarten. On that same day, they held a wedding on the playground and Gracie kissed (Y/n) and told her she'd love her forever. From that day on, she kept her vow to always love her, it being a sacred promise that she held to her chest. Their bond could be categorized as intense and passion, even when they tried to date other people. Truth be told, no relationship between them and anyone else could last since they were always on a collision course to this exact moment in time. Now, Gracie was standing in front of (Y/n), ready to pour her heart out and put their friendship on the line. If only she hadn't started it with "I can't be your friend anymore."
The statement sounded like glass shattering into a million people, scattering around her. It made (Y/n) afraid to move, to stand, to say anything as she processed Gracie's words. Due to Gracie's silence as she picked the words carefully in her head, not communicating them out loud, (Y/n) took this as a statement that solidified the end of their decade long friendship. She always thought that they would end up more, not just end entirely. Apparently that feeling wasn't shared, as it seemed that Gracie was just dumping her onto the curb while in a city far from home.
A million thoughts hit her simultaneously, making her spiral. Couldn't Gracie have thought of this sooner? Where was she going to stay tonight? How was she going to get home? She had, after all, quit her part-time job to be one of Gracie's social media organizers. It was really just Gracie's way to bring her on tour, putting her on her payroll. It took forever for Gracie to even convince her, and now she was just dropping her. Was there someone else? Had she done something wrong? Her head began to hurt and she grew nauseous, and she finally stood right when Gracie was finally finding her words, thoughts finally connecting together.
"So, you mean to tell me that you convinced me to come on tour with you just for you to tell me you can't be my friend anymore?" She hated the way her eyes welled up with tears, causing her to take a sharp intake of breath. (Y/n) couldn't allow herself to cry in that moment. She bit her lip to stable her wobbly lip as she cleared her throat, trying to find the right words. But there was no words, and Gracie couldn't respond quick enough. "God, Gracie, I left a stable job to come here with you. I dropped everything for you. We're in New York fucking city… I can't even look at you right now."
Gracie's eyes were wide as she watched (Y/n) make a break for her tour bus door. She quickly caught her wrist, brown eyes pleading for her to stay. Her words were caught in her throat, blocked by a sob due to (Y/n)'s retreating figure. Why couldn't she just confess her love right then and there. All she wanted to say was that she had always loved her and she will always love her. Nothing had changed from their kindergarten wedding. But, somehow, she managed to ruin it. "No, (Y/n), please. I was trying to-"
"Trying to what, Gracie?" There was her opening, the opportunity needed to get her thoughts out. But she didn't take it. (Y/n) shook her head, tears finally spilling over her tear line. Yanking her wrist from Gracie's tight hold as she silently begged her to stay, (Y/n) headed out the door into the New York streets. She, unfortunately, had the pleasure to be met head on with fans who recognized her from Gracie's lives and Instagram posts, and they attempted to ask for photos. (Y/n) had to wade through them, trying to remain polite as she made her way to a hotel, her phone battery a little too low for her liking. Thankfully, the girl at the front desk let her borrow a charger before she booked a room. Once her phone was in significantly better health, she made her way up to her room, allowing herself to finally breakdown and grieve what had just happened on the bus.
She wasn't expecting a call to wake her up in the late afternoon. Blinking away her sleepiness, her brows furrowed when she saw it was from Henry, Gracie's older brother. She let her brain process for a moment before answering. "Hey, (Y/n), sorry to call you so randomly. I.. I heard about you and Gracie, and I know this isn't my place, but you should go to her show tonight." He said solemnly, as if he just lost her, too. In a way, he had. If she wasn't friends with Gracie, there wouldn't be a real reason for her to come to the Abrams home anymore.
(Y/n) let a hand run down her face. She couldn't believe Henry was actually trying to find himself in the middle of this. Ever the diffuser, she found herself realizing this was kind of his niche. With that said, it wasn't any of his business. "You're right, Henry, this isn't your place. So, please, just fuck off." She groaned, ending the call and closing her eyes. She looked at the time and knew that Gracie was at soundcheck. She had missed over twenty phone calls from her from last night and this morning, and she had a dozen texts. Maybe Gracie regretted it. She shook her head. Gracie didn't deserve any grace from the situation. She had pulled (Y/n) all the way across the nation just to end their friendship. Still, for one final goodbye, she was going to go to this stupid show and rebreak her stupid heart.
She adorned her outfit from last night, jeans and a hoodie with 'The Secret of Us' on it. It was exclusive and made for just Gracie's team. She pulled out her pass, thankful she still had her wallet because of her other belongings were on the bus. She didn't have an actual seat, usually sitting behind stage, so she leaned on an entrance way. After Role Model's performance, Gracie came on. Admittedly, she did look a little disheveled, not that the fans would notice these little quirks that made Gracie look unlike herself. (Y/n) didn't have time to dwell on it as Gracie started speaking.
"Okay, so… I was going to sing Close To You first, but… I've changed my mind. There's this girl that I've loved since kindergarten. We got married the day we met and I kissed her. I told her I loved her, but when it mattered most, I couldn't tell her I still love her in the way I meant it when I was little. The innocent kind of love, only it's now more passionate." Gracie swallowed, looking at her deep blue converse. (Y/n) was watching with fresh tears, and when Gracie looked up, their eyes met. "Here's I miss you, I'm sorry." She announced.
(Y/n) wiped tears from her cheeks as she listened to Gracie sing, her heart racing. At the end of the song, Gracie passed her guitar to one of the people on stage before getting off the stage. Everyone's eyes were on her as she almost ran to (Y/n). As she made her way to her childhood best friend, their lips crashed. It was a movie moment, where the camera would spin around the couple and emotionally charged music would play. It was their moment as their tears mingled into the kiss, the taste of salt on their tongues. The crowd was cheering but it was drowned out. When the two finally parted, a silent message passed between them. They were going to be alright, and yeah… They couldn't be friends anymore because they weren't just friends. "(Y/n), you're not just my best friend. I love you."
(Y/n) felt her breathe hitch as she nodded softly. Her head was spinning from their intense kiss and she connected their lips again. "I love you, too," she said, looking up at Gracie. Worry was still ever-present in her eyes and she smiled softly. "We're okay. We're girlfriends now, or whatever." She said in a soft whisper, both chuckling. Then, they both remembered where they were. "Go, Abrams, I'll be right here, cheering you on." She nodded. Gracie smiled a bit, kissing her again on the lips and once more but on the forehead this time before returning on stage. Everything was different, their collision course causing their universes to come together as one. Then again, when had it ever been two separate universes. They've always been just one entity, in the long run. It was always going to be (Y/n) and Gracie together, just as they had promised the day they met.
92 notes
·
View notes
Text
too much ✩ kylian mbappé
KYLIAN MBAPPÉ X NON FAMOUS! READER
you get a lot of hate online and kylian is tired of seeing you suffering
faceclaim: gracie abrams
Liked by k.mbappe, ethanmbappé, and 5,626 others
ynusername today was such a good day 😄👍🏻
View all 517 comments
ynhater1 whore
ynhater2 wtf 🤣 why are u so fckng ugly
mbappefan1 don’t worry about the bad comments, y/n!! you are pretty and an amazing person.
ynhater3 how can kylian date someone as weird as you?
ynhater4 💩💩☠️
ynhater5 we don’t want kylian dating you 🤮🤮🤮
Liked by k.mbappe, neymarjr, and 6,727 others
ynusername date night 💗
View all 345 comments
ynhater1 you are so ugly omfg
ynhater2 we hate you
ynhater3 you just want kylian’s money
ynhater4 i hope kylian cheats on you ☠️
mbapperfan1 why are you mean to her? I can't understand, she never did anything wrong.
⤷ mbappefan2 i can’t understand either, she makes kylian so happy.
ynhater5 🤮🤮🤮🤮
Liked by k.mbappe, antonelaroccuzzo, and 4,627 others
ynusername fun day at the park :)
View all the 537 comments
ynhater1 even the cat wants to run away from you
ynhater2 how do you manage to look ugly in every single picture? ☠️
ynhater3 kylian deserves better
ynhater4 💩☠️🤮
ynhater5 #freekylian
mbappefan1 if you guys really like kylian you wouldn’t be saying things like that about his girlfriend
ynhater6 🖕🏻🖕🏻🖕🏻🖕🏻
mbappefan2 what’s y’all problem? omg, poor girl!
Liked by k.mbappe, antonelaroccuzzo, and 2,737 others
ynusername special day <3
View all 398 comments
ynhater1 you are so ugly, hope you know that
⤷ ynusername you guys never let me forget that, thank you :)
ynhater2 you so close to another man, aren’t you ashamed??? 🤮
⤷ mbappefan1 it’s her cousin, dumb ☠️
ynhater3 i hate you
ynhater4 kylian is ashamed of you
ynhater5 kylian doesn’t love you
Liked by k.mbappe, ethanmbappe, and 8,828 others
ynusername loving being around people who make me happy :)
Comments on this post are disabled
Liked by neymarjr, antonelaroccuzzo, and 2,345,628 others
k.mbappe The most beautiful girl with the purest heart I have ever met in my entire life. I really can't understand why such a nice person is treated so poorly by some of you, please don't say you are my fan if you treat the people I love in the most insensitive and ridiculous way possible. I don’t even have words to define the way this woman shows her love for me, the way she makes me feel like the luckiest man in the world, and the way she made me feel truly understood for the first time. I just want to ask you to see what an amazing woman I have by my side, I am sure that if you get to know a little bit more about her, you will know the reasons why i fell in love. And finally, Y/N, I love you even without love, as if this is all so big, so great, so absurd, that it almost isn't. I love you in such an impossible way.
View all 30,547 comments
ynusername thank u for making me feel loved and comfortable with myself, i love you forever and ever.
antonelaroccuzzo 🥰❤️
mbappefan1 you are amazing, y/n!!!! 💗
mbappefan2 stay strong, y/n. kylian loves and cares about you!
ethanmbappe proud to have you as my sis 😍 @ynusername
neymarjr don’t pay attention to the comments of haters, y/n. we all know what an amazing woman you are ❤️
mbappefan3 it’s so important that kylian talked about it, very happy for them both 🥰
antogriezmann 😍👏🏻
notes: hope y’all liked it!! 🫶🏻
#kylian mbappe x reader#kylian mbappe fluff#kylian mbappe#kylian mbappe x you#kylian mbappe imagine#kylian mbappe fanfic#football one shot#football x reader#football fanfic#football instagram au#kylian x reader#kylian imagines#football imagine
706 notes
·
View notes
Text
lover | calum hood.
calum hood x reader.
summary: calum takes his girl to the eras tour.
calum was always private when it came to his relationships. although he loved and appreciated each and every single one of his adoring fans, he never liked to be bombarded with taking pictures while out with his love. he never wanted to put her in a position to receive heavy amounts of hate just for being with him. when going out, he liked being low-key just for her protection. but tonight, he had high driven anxiety. tonight, he would be taking his beloved girlfriend to the eras tour.
calum knew how much his girlfriend loved taylor swift and her music. he knew it was a dream of hers to see taylor live. so, being the great boyfriend he is, he surprised her with tickets for her birthday and now the day had finally come. calum knew without a doubt that he and his love would be spotted by fans and that made him nervous. he didn’t want anyone to be mean to his girl or give her dirty looks as some had in the past. he just wanted her to enjoy this long awaited night and all he could do was hope for the best.
when the two arrived at the venue, they were lead to an open tent by security. the tent was mainly for celebrities and taylor’s family. calum was more than happy for his girl when she got to take a photo with taylor’s mother who also handed her, her first friendship bracelet of the night. a few minutes later, calum was enjoying drinks with his love and listening to the opening act, gracie abrams, another one of her favorite artists. he noticed how a few fans noticed them and tried coming over to the booth. “calum! I made these for you guys!” a girl yelled.
calum walked over to the fan, keeping a smile on his face. the girl handed him two bracelets. one with his initials and one with his girlfriend’s initials. “these are very nice, thank you so much!” calum smiled. he took a look back, checking on his girl who was simply singing along to the song that gracie was performing. “can i take a photo with the two of you, please?” the girl asked. that simple question made calum smile, it was the first time a fan wanted to take a photo with y/n as well. “of course” he smiled at the fan as he motioned for y/n to come over to him.
he didn’t miss the nervous expression on her face. “oh my god! you’re so gorgeous!!” the fan squealed towards y/n. a smile instantly crept upon her face as she thanked the fan. calum took the photo of them three and handed one of the bracelets to y/n. “that made my entire night, she was so kind” y/n spoke. calum smiled and kissed his love’s forehead. by the time taylor was on stage, y/n had both arms filled with friendship bracelets that fans had given to her. fans were so kind to her, begging for photos with both her and calum.
calum was more than relieved at the positive attention his girl was getting after being given nothing but hate for so long. it was definitely the best night he’s had in a long time. he sang along to songs with his girl, held her as she cried to different songs, danced with her, and carried her back to the car when she was so exhausted. as the two were back home in bed, calum scrolled through his twitter timeline and saw that fans had filmed them holding each other and slow dancing as taylor performed lover.
he smiled at the videos, watching his love look at him with so much admiration and love. slow dancing with him so carefree in a room full of so many people. he looked over at her exhausted figure, holding his hand as she was falling asleep. “i love you, cal” she mumbled before fully falling asleep. oh yeah, he was definitely marrying her.
#calum hood#calum hood x reader#calum hood fluff#calum hood x fem!reader#calum hood fic#calum hood imagine#calum hood fanfiction#calum hood x y/n#5sos#5sos x reader#5 seconds of summer#5sos x fem!reader#5sos imagine#5sos fic#5sos blurb
325 notes
·
View notes
Text
never enough - j.m x fem!reader
posted nov 2nd, 2023 12:16 am
hey, sorry i ghosted, I'm not doing to hot but here's something, I'm trying a little November challenge where i try and cope with life things where i write an imagine/blurb inspired by something that happened during my day, here's an argument i had with my mommy in a jj fic lol this isn't my best work but i hope u like it :3
this includes wording stating that the reader's hair is a texture that is easy to play with and the use of y/n and probably inaccurate JJ but i needed his comfort sue me
summary: How do you deal with having to have the very same (or at least very similar) conversations with your loved ones that involve what you're currently going through? Because that's the exact problem you’ve been having with JJ. angst to fluff??? kinda? hurt/comfort? idk
masterlist
wordcount: 1k
“You never do anything to show that you love me, JJ! You throw your arm around my shoulder and call it a fucking day”
Eventually what once was calm and civil and even mature conversations turn into screaming matches.
“I don’t know what else you fucking want from me, Y/n!” JJ’s voice bounced off the walls of the chateau which was luckily empty due to the small fire in the back.
“JJ, I expressed what I needed, I used my words and my actions to show and tell you exactly what I needed and you still couldn’t do me one small favor? I just wanted you to run your fingers through my hair a few times is that so fucking hard?” Your own voice was wavering in volume, sometimes louder and sometimes quiet, defeated even.
“I listen when you vent, I do better when we have a problem, I even fucking cancel my plans to spend time with you, nothing I do is ever fucking enough for you!” and there it was, the words slipping out of your dear boyfriend’s mouth before he could even think about it, the words that thrown in your face so very often, the words that made you question everything about yourself
He was trying, he was listening and he was being incredibly patient and understanding with you.
The look of regret from his words alone was enough to realize that.
Until that gross feeling of pride came onto you, possessing your entire being with the rage you’ve had building inside of you for months.
“Fuck you, JJ. fuck you, because I got upset with you and when I tried to walk away and blow off steam you got pissed and bitchy and didn’t fucking let me, and then when I explained my issue to you, you gave me a fucking attitude.” Your words were fast now, spewing out like a soda when you shake it too hard.
“I needed you! And I told you that! Just like you asked me to! How am I supposed to properly communicate with you when you tell me one thing and then turn around and do the fucking opposite!” it was less of a question and more of an accusation but at this point, it was hard to care.
You had tried responsibly talking to him, getting to a better place with him, but it wasn’t getting anywhere. Your relationship with JJ getting heavier on your shoulders and piling what smelt like loads of shit onto what you’ve already been struggling with.
“Y/n, baby-” JJ started but you were already out the door, feeling the guilt from ignoring him as you walked away yet still ignoring his calls even as your friends called out at the sight of you leaving what was supposed to be a night of freedom for the pogues.
When the next day came around the avoiding calls started, when JJ and Y/n got into a fight it caused tension in the entire friend group. There's a reason “pogues don’t date pogues” is such a big rule for you and your friends.
It wasn’t a rift it was just a fear, a fear of losing everything you all had,
all that you guys had.
But you couldn’t deal with the confrontation today, so you turned off your ringer and went about your day as normal, morning routine, work, go home, homework.
5 pm rolled around and you thought that maybe they had given up (feeding your delusional anxieties and fears at no fault of the pogues but still)
Then there was the knock on your door, and then another after you ignored the first,
This pattern repeated until eventually, you sighed, getting up from your bed to go down the hall and answer who you knew was your impatient boyfriend at the door.
“Hey, beautiful!” JJ’s voice was quiet as if he was astonished at the fact that you actually opened the door. The array of flowers sat loosely in his hands before he watched you look down at them and back up at him, wordlessly.
“Oh! This is for you, I uh, wanted to apologize.” JJ was almost stumbling over his words as he went to hand you the flowers, carefully examining you as you took them and moved back into your home,
He followed, mumbling more apologies before you set the small bouquet on the kitchen counter and turned to him.
“Listen, Y/n, You were right, I did ask you to be more clear on things you need from me and you were, and I, I dismissed you completely, I was just drunk and all over the place and I’m overworked like hell lately but these aren’t excuses and I’m sorry, my sweet girl, I really mean it” JJ’s words were calculated, he had thought about them all day and he did mean it,
despite this, there was still an aching feeling in your chest,
and the confusion and guilt you felt for still being upset about this stupid mistake caused the recurring tears to well up in your eyes as you stared at JJ’s chest, avoiding his eyes.
“Oh, baby” he whispered, quiet and delicate like if he spoke any louder you’d fall apart in front of him.
Carefully, JJ pulled you into him, not knowing what else to do but you let him, grabbing fistfuls of his shirt as sobs wrecked through your body, broken apologies barely being heard through your tears and shaky breaths but JJ still held you,
Playing with your hair and shushing you and whispering “It's okay, baby” to every little apology that slipped past your lips.
You stood with each other like this until you eventually calmed down, JJ had managed to lean against the counter and in turn, get you to lean on him.
“I’ll do better baby I promise” He whispered into your hair, hoping you could hear it through the small pains of your hiccups from crying.
“I’m sorry there's always something wrong with me” you mumbled back, the soft laugh from JJ catching you off guard as he pulled you back just enough to hold your tear-stained cheeks in his hands.
“There’s always somethin’ wrong with us, we’re pogues.” He teased, earning a quiet scoff from you before he shut you up with a soft kiss pressed to your swollen lips and then one on your nose, and another on your forehead.
“We’ll be okay, pretty lady, we’ll get through it,”
#jj maybank x you#jj mayback x reader#jj maybank x y/n#jj maybank x reader#jj maybank x pogue!reader#jj mayback imagine#outer banks imagines#jj maybank#jj maybank imagines#jj maybank x fem!reader#jj maybank angst
372 notes
·
View notes
Text
Fall From Grace
Gracie wasn't sure how she got to this point.
She was sitting on her couch, wearing a skintight bodysuit, accentuating every single detail of her curves - and making her recently-bought implants pop out like they were begging to be squeezed. Her face was covered in makeup that, in the past, she'd be hesitant to wear to a club. And she was horny. Oh my god she was so horny. The vibrator she was told to put in underneath her outfit has been teasing her for the entire day now. She couldn't think anymore. She'd do anything for her mistress to just finally come home and use her.
In the past, she'd have wondered how did she let herself fall so low. She might have wondered why did she let this woman control her orgasms, her wardrobe and, now that she had the size of her tits doubled at her request, her body. Her thoughts were too clouded by her need to be the perfect toy to question anything, though.
Maybe when mistress came home, she'd finally let Gracie eat her out. Finally put her mouth to use. Or at least squeeze her new tits, slap her ass or maybe just comment how much of a beautiful toy she is. Anything. Back in the day, she may have hoped to be eaten out herself, to come from her touch, but today she knew that good toys didn't orgasm. So she kept herself horny, hoping that today, she'd be used.
Finally, she heard the doorknob turning. A shiver went down her spine, she hasn't been this horny since she agreed to have her tits made better. That was the last time she came too. Maybe she'd get to make them bigger for another orgasm someday again? Maybe today?
"Hello, Gracie!" her voice cooed, as she entered. It was like honey to her ears. "My, you were good today, weren't you?", Gracie did not respond, she just pierced mistress' eyes with a stare hornier than anything she has seen before, "Oh, I might have overdone it with the vibrator a little… then again, you look like such a good toy right now, love". She locked eyes with her and squeezed her silicone tits. Gracie's mind was a sliver from exploding at that moment.
The mistress paused for a second, taking a long look at Gracie. It was hard to discern what exactly was going through her mind at that moment - and it wasn't exactly within the capabilities of the edged-out-of-her-mind girl to try and found out.
Finally, she spoke, turning the vibrator that's been teasing Gracie's clit for the past several hours to a higher setting, "You've been a really good toy recently, Gracie. I think you deserve a reward", Gracie's eyes lit up at the mention of the word "reward", "I think I'll be making you come today, sweetie…", she turned the vibrator yet another level higher, "…you just have to promise one thing to me, okay?"
"ANYTHING! PLEASE!", Gracie nearly screamed in return, teetering on the edge of an orgasm. "Okay, calm down a little honey", mistress said, lowering the vibrator's setting to what it was before she entered, giving Gracie the most desperate and frustrating edge of her life, "I'll let you come, but your name isn't Gracie anymore, okay? You're going to forget it", the girl nodded furiously in return - she didn't need a name, she needed to come, "From now on, you're Toy. You're not allowed to call yourself anything else. If anyone else calls you your old name, you're going to politely correct them, alright?".
Toy kept nodding, keeping eye contact, while the most furiously horny and blank expression occupied her face. She didn't need a name. Good toys didn't have names. Her vibrator didn't have a name, why should she? She wasn't going to let a vibrator be a better toy than she was!
"Okay, very good…", mistress turned to contemplation for one more moment, turning the vibrator up again, "…introduce yourself, Toy, and I'll let you come".
"M-my name is T-Toy…", she could barely speak in between her moans, "…I'm, uh, not a p-person, just, um, a Toy…'", the vibrator turned to the max setting, "…and I l-love being used…", she could feel the orgasm building, "…could you please use me however you'd like?"
"Good job, Toy. You made a big step today. Now be good and come for me"
The moment mistress uttered these words, Toy exploded with pleasure, moaning so loud it could probably be heard in the block on the opposite side of the street. She came harder than ever before, even harder than when she agreed to have plastic put inside her tits. She was writhing, shaking, and it wasn't stopping. Every time it felt as if she stopped coming, another orgasm began, a cascade of pleasure, each stronger than the last. Her mind was going blank from the pleasure, lost in the moment that seemed to last forever.
And then, mistress turned off the vibrator. The rush started to slow down. Her head was spinning from the intensity of the experience. And when she reached back into her mind, she couldn't remember what her name used to be. She was Toy.
--- --- ---
Normally I'd put my new stuff on Patreon, but I'm looking to move my horny stuff here from deviantart, so look - here's a brand new hot shiny story!
38 notes
·
View notes
Text
the pages are turning~
a months old pic of my desk
29th august 2024
day 4/50 - productivity challenge
🕒 6:00 a.m.
sleep deprivation is hitting. eating leftovers and coffee for breakfast.
checked notifs
actually ate some goddamn breakfast
not me realizing that i barely eat 2 meals every school day..
revised psychology: ch-1: what is psychology
here's a (self) reminder to actually go study instead of procrastinating 30 mins by watching study motivation videos.
also i recommend listening to non-lyrical music while studying. i personally listen to classical piano music. this is what i was listening to today morning.
showered
morning skincare
extended duolingo streak
aaand off to school. thought i would be late but honestly i've been reaching at the correct time all these days. if i leave my house by 8:05 then i'm good.
at school i first had physics and then 2 continuous chemistry classes (the teacher is good but her classes are so draining ugh).
completed physics classwork (the stuff i missed when i was absent on tuesday)
did the OCEAN test in psychology class! idk why but i love personality tests. i'll discuss my results with my teacher tmr hopefully but what i gathered is that i'm an ambivert leaning to introversion and ok emotional regulation & stability. my other classmate was very much an extrovert with higher tendency to take others' words to heart. we bunked the last 2 english classes together in the library lol. also want to say that i'm so ashamed for having formed an image in my mind of her, without really knowing her that well. i cruelly judged her prematurely and though we didn't really talk about our lives and stuff, we did get closer (maybe even friends?) today and i regret my judgments. ik i would be crushed if someone thought up an image of me in their head like that and i try not to do the same but sometimes i make mistakes. i'm trying to be more aware of that.
studied psychology ch-6: human memory (in the library when i skipped english)
lightly rained the entire trip home and got much louder as i ate a hearty lunch 😋
started a word doc for biology investigatory project
started a word doc for chemistry investigatory project
me and my bestfriend have been much more honest with our feelings recently. the saying "distance makes the heart grow fonder" was actually made for us. she's in a new college all popular with new pretty friends and boys probably crushing on her and she says i'm her favourite person. i'm at a new school slowly making new friends and she's my favourite person. i told her i love her. she deserves to know that. and i meant it totally platonically and that doesn't make it any less. if anyone ever asks, "who's your first love?" i'll say her name. it'll always be her.
practiced playing keyboard 🎹
read newspaper 📰 (some of those cases make me feel sick)
post for studyblr weekly prompt
dinner. yum. noodles and cake.
made notes psychology ch-1: what is psychology?
night skincare
🕒 nope! pulled an all-nighter.. yes i have school tmr 😃 listen i do not recommend doing this shit at all. why did i do it you may ask? i don't really have any crushing deadlines as such, but i've tricked my mind into thinking my own plans are deadlines. this week my sleep has been astronomically fucked up. the weekend will be a reset (i have school on saturday 😭) and i will prioritze sleep. i need to at least manage 6-7 hours everyday.
edit: actually i fell asleep around 2 a.m. and did no other studying..
🎧 i love you, i'm sorry by gracie abrams
her songs are actually just excerpts from my journal but minus the romance unfortunately like where's my gf ugh we're wasting time
a months old pic of my desk
#mithistudies#study space#studying#academics#student life#student#studywithme#studystudystudy#studyspiration#studyinspo#studyspo#studyblr community#studyblr#study with me#study tips#study notes#study motivation#study inspo#study inspiration#study hard#study goals#study desk#study blog#study aesthetic#study#new studyblr#cbse#mithi's own#fifty fixing
37 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hi Gracie! I have a quite specific request, so of course, whether you accept it or not is up to you 💖
I would love to see a romantic Sirius x fem!Reader where she is of the alternative kind - short hair in unnatural colours, school uniform skirts enchanted to be cargo pants, heavy boots (can you tell I kin Tonks?). However, behaviour-wise, she's more like Remus - quiet, smart, but heavily intolerant of people's prejudices and not shy to defend those who need it.
As for a scenario - I'm a sucker for hurt/comfort. Maybe she finds Sirius as he sits somewhere alone, quiet, but deep in thoughts. It's after another letter from home or a bad interaction with Regulus. They just talk about life and end up realising how much they care for each other. Throw in a comfy hug if you feel like it fits.
To be honest, the only thing I'm banking on here is seeing this kind of Reader being a shoulder to lean on for Sirius.
All in all, this is not a request per se, but a proposition! If it doesn't spark your interest - feel free to ignore.
Take care of yourself!!! You're wonderful, especially for allowing us to ask for use of your skills in the first place 💘
I am totally obsessed with your request, thank you thank you thank you, I really hope this met your expectations, read the end to tell you more!
⋆˙⟡ Sailor Song
Summary: Sirius spent his entire life blocking his emotions so as not to worry others, but one day he finally finds the comfort he was looking for.
Pairing: Sirius Black x fem!reader
Words: 2700
ⓘ Warnings: Mentions of dissociation, anxiety, Sirius' childhood, hurt/comfort, crying, feelings of guilt and self-hatred, no proofread, English isn't my first language srry! (I feel like I didn't do this request justice but I just didn't know what else to do, sorry if it's not good enough)
Sirius most days wished his life was different, wished too many things were different, he wanted to believe what everyone said, that you had to focus on the positive and everything would get better.
But Sirius was exhausted.
He had tried everything but when happiness seemed to come into his life, something seemed to ruin it, sometimes he felt guilty and ungrateful, he had good things in his life, he had James, his best friend, he had a great group of friends and above all, he had a girlfriend who was absolutely wonderful, you.
You were the one thing Sirius wouldn't change about his life, but sometimes he wished he could change himself for you, so that you would think him as perfect and never want to leave his side, so that you wouldn't abandon him like the rest.
Sirius could still vividly remember the first time he saw you, when you walked into the great hall and your colorful hair caught his attention, but it wasn't your hair that really made his heart pound, it was your smile, the one that seemed to light up the place instantly.
Sirius spent a good 10 minutes watching you, admiring your hair that was shorter than the rest of the girls and had an extravagant color, then he looked at your black jacket, which had something embossed on the back, it looked like drawings in colorful colors, he wondered if you had embroidered it.
Sirius' extroverted and flirty personality seemed to fade when he was with you, he became a stuttering mess and his cheeks turned flushed red, James couldn't help but laugh at the sight of him, acting so stupid in front of you.
It wasn't long before Sirius became close to you, starting to spend more time with you and soon asking you out on a date, which you accepted without hesitation.
Sirius loved you like no one else in his life, you were everything he had been seeking, he didn't need anything else in his life, or so he wanted to think.
But in the end, as it was dawn at Hogwarts, thoughts invaded him and he felt that nothing he had was enough, he wanted to be happy, he wanted it and longed for it like nothing else, but he never got to have it.
Sirius had been on the verge of becoming happy so many times, but in the end it was always taken away from him, and it hurt him to the bone.
Sirius hated the anxiety that invaded him in the dawn, the fear that everyone he loved would move away, he didn't want to lose you, he couldn't stand it, he just wanted to be happy, for once in his life.
But even in those early mornings he couldn't make the pain go away, he couldn't get rid of the anxiety that invaded him, he couldn't even cry to get it off his chest and he hated it.
Sirius couldn't remember the last time he cried, it must have been when he was a child and ended up with a red mark on his cheek thanks to his dear mother.
Since that day he never cried, he just couldn't anymore, even if he wanted to, even if he wanted to vent, he just couldn't anymore, his brain was completely blocked.
So when Sirius felt that immense pain in his chest and that pain that would make anyone cry, his brain simply shut down.
His face would become empty and suddenly he felt nothing, the pain was still there, but it's as if he couldn't do anything about it, he couldn't get it out, he couldn't even express it, let alone push it away.
Time stopped for him and in the blink of an eye hours had passed, hours where he had been on automatic without noticing it, hours he didn't even remember.
You had seen him a dozen times, many didn't even notice, to everyone he was still Sirius, he talked, moved, acted “normal”, but you knew he wasn't right, something in his eyes was off.
You had tried to talk to him, but you never got anywhere, he said that nothing was wrong, that it had been happening to him since he was a child and that he didn't know how to stop it, that you didn't have to worry.
But his explanations didn't make your heart hurt any less, seeing him move away from reality, blocking himself, it was painful, even more the fact that nobody noticed it, they didn't even notice that Sirius forgot things he had done or acted distant.
That day was no different, Sirius had had a miserable day, his heart ached hard in his chest.
After breakfast he had bumped into Regulus, for a while now he had been trying to strike up a conversation with him, but Regulus was completely closed to this, Sirius knew it was his fault, he had walked away, he had run away from home and left Regulus behind, but back then he was a kid, an idiot kid just looking to survive.
Every day he regretted not having been able to get Regulus out of that place, and every day Regulus took it upon himself to remind him of that.
Sirius tried to have a conversation with him, they both needed it, but it didn't go well at all.
“You've never cared about anything but yourself, all you do is ruin everything” Regulus said sharply before disappearing down the corridors.
At that precise instant Sirius' brain shut down, pushing all those painful emotions to the back of his mind, but this time it was different, that pain in his chest wasn't diminishing, it was increasing, growing more and more.
Sirius knew he had to go to class, James was waiting for him, but his feet wouldn't move, he couldn't, he was trapped, trapped in his own mind.
A few minutes earlier you had seen Sirius leave behind Regulus, you knew it wouldn't end well, but you also knew that Sirius didn't like people meddling in his family matters, but when you saw Regulus enter the classroom with no sign of Sirius, you knew something was wrong.
James said that Sirius had probably just gone for a smoke or skipped a class as usual, but something inside you stirred, a feeling. you knew something was wrong.
You tried not to care, you were about to enter class, but you just couldn't, you turned around ignoring the call of your friends, you needed to find Sirius.
After wandering around the castle for a while you finally found him, he was in a lonely corridor, sitting on the floor, staring at nothing.
Immediately you recognized that something was wrong, the glow in his eyes was off, you could tell instantly.
Without thinking you walked up to him, making your presence known so as not to scare him, but he didn't even move, his eyes were fixed on nothing, his arms were tightly wrapped around his legs, his hands had white knuckles from the strength with which he was holding the fabric of his pants.
You felt your chest tighten when you saw him like that, it was worse than you had ever seen.
In a moment you were already sitting next to him, you carefully took one of your hands to his, making him release his clothes and hold your hand, he interlaced his fingers instantly, holding your hand tightly, as if you were going to disappear under his touch.
“I'm here, you're fine, I got you” You said sweetly, giving caresses with your thumb on his hand, Sirius' gaze was still fixed on nothing, anyone would say he couldn't even hear you, but you knew he was still there, locked in his own mind.
You held his hand tightly, reassuring him, your cheek resting on his shoulder, waiting for him to calm down, you knew it wasn't a good idea to push him, the only thing you would do would be to make him collapse.
After a few minutes in silence, Sirius' hand seemed to relax on yours, for a moment he seemed to come back to reality.
“There's something wrong with me” Sirius said in barely a whisper, it wasn't a question, he was stating it, that something was wrong with him.
You immediately denied, giving his hand a light squeeze, trying to comfort him.
“There is nothing wrong with you, Sirius, there never has been, you know that” You said softly, lifting yourself from his shoulder so you could look at him, his gaze went to yours, analyzing your face, but in your eyes there was nothing but honesty.
“I know something is wrong with me, I feel it, inside me, it burns…” Sirius said, staring at you “I always end up ruining things, I hurt those around me, something is wrong with me and I don't know how to make it go away.”
Your chest tightened at the sight of his face, there were no tears but the pain was reflected in his eyes, your hand instinctively went to his cheek, holding it gently.
“There's nothing wrong with you, Sirius” You repeated again. “Regulus told you that?” you asked delicately, you didn't want to push him too far, all you got was a nod, Sirius was silent for a moment, holding your hand before he spoke.
“H-He said I don't care about anyone but me…that I always end up ruining everything” Sirius said in barely a whisper, feeling a knot form in his throat, the pain in his chest still growing.
“He's just annoyed, Sirius, he's hurt, he didn't mean it, you don't ruin things, you care about others more than anyone else, you've tried to fix things with Regulus despite everything, you always think about others before yourself, that shows what kind of person you are…. And even sometimes it's good that you think about yourself, you deserve to choose you sometimes” You said softly, feeling your chest hurt when you saw Sirius' face, you didn't understand how his own family could be so cruel to him, he was just a boy when everything happened, his whole childhood made him the man he is now, he just did what he needed to do to survive.
“I've seen you Sirius, when something hurts you you just block yourself from reality, it's like it's not you… You do it because you don't want others to worry about you, don't you?” you asked gently, to which Sirius nodded slightly, a little confused, you had had this conversation before so he didn't quite understand why you were bringing it up now, but you had a point to prove.
“I-I've been doing it since I was little, I didn't want my mother to be mad at me, she hated it when I cried...If I cried Reg cried too and she got mad at both of us…I always ended up making others upset or worried, like now, I d-don't—" Sirius's voice broke off, a lump formed in his throat, he didn't even know how to express himself, he didn't want to hurt, not the people he loved.
“Sirius, If you didn't care about anyone but yourself you wouldn't do that, you wouldn't block out your feelings so as not to worry others…you can cry, you can get angry, you can feel hurt by others, you don't always have to be strong.” You said quietly, for a moment you saw Sirius' eyes glaze over, though he immediately wiped away the tears, shaking his head.
“N-No, no, I have to be strong, for you, for everyone, I don't want you to have to deal with me and my…. pain.” Sirius said in barely a whisper, as if the very act of saying it would hurt him.
“Sirius, you've been through too much being so young, you have a right to feel bad, you don't have to suppress your pain, not when you have me, James, Remus, you have people who care about you, people who care about how you feel, none of them are going to get upset because you cry or because you need space, you are a person, Sirius” You said, holding sirius' cheek and stroking it gently.
“I know you want to be the best friend, boyfriend or brother, but you're not just that, you are a person and sometimes people do or say cruel things and you have a right to feel bad about it, you don't have to pretend that nothing is wrong.” You explained, feeling your own chest tighten, it was hard to keep your voice steady when you felt a whirlwind of emotions invade you.
At that moment you could see Sirius' eyes crystallize, for the first time a tear rolled down his cheek “I love you Sirius, I love how outgoing and attentive you are, I love all the energy you have, I love when you smile and your eyes light up, but I also still love you when you're sad, when you need to vent or when you need space, not for a second do I stop loving you”.
At that moment Sirius' tears began to flow without stopping, it was as if you had broken that invisible barrier that stopped him, that barrier that separated the two of you.
Sirius had spent his whole life wishing things were different, he changed himself, blocking his feelings, thinking that this way he would be loved, his mother had told him that no one wanted a crybaby, girls wanted someone strong and to hold on to.
But now Sirius knew better, that he could break down sometimes and you would be there for him when he was well again, he now understood that people could sometimes be cruel and he was not to blame, that he could feel hurt, that his feelings did not make him dramatic or weak as his mother had said.
When the pain invaded him he didn't stop being him, he was still Sirius, you were still there, people didn't move away, the world didn't stop, his pain didn't make him stop being Sirius, his pain didn't make him less lovable.
In a moment Sirius was in your arms, his tears soaking through your shirt, all those emotions he had been holding in for years were now coming out, and it felt… good.
Sirius felt himself crumbling, pain consuming him, but this time you were holding him, this time the voices of his family were fading in his head, this time, at last, he didn't have to pretend to be strong, not when he felt his pain drowning him out.
“I promise you'll be fine” You said softly, letting sirius hold you tightly.
You knew Sirius needed those words, at some point you needed them too.
Sirius hugged you as if he never wanted to leave, it was the truth, he didn't want anyone else, he wanted you.
Sirius wanted you, the girl who caught his attention in the first instant, with that colorful hair and those huge boots that Sirius wanted to steal from you, that girl who was sweet and kind and who always had something to say, that girl who understood him perfectly, you.
“I love you, I love you so fucking much” Sirius said in a whisper, hugging tightly, his words were genuine, totally.
You couldn't hide the small smile that appeared on your face, even with the simplest words you could feel Sirius' love.
Sirius kept sobbing into your chest, but this time the pain didn't overwhelm him, it felt good to let go of all those things he had been holding on to.
“Thank you” Sirius murmured quietly, after a while in silence. “For being here, despite everything.”
“You'll always have me by your side, I want to be with you when you laugh and when you make your stupid pranks, but I'll also be with you when you need to vent or when you just want a hug.” You murmured softly, holding sirius in your arms, stroking his hair sweetly.
Sirius swore he could melt under your arms, how come you always had the right words?
Sirius hugged you tightly, sinking his face into your hair, smelling your perfume, which he adored, enjoying the warmth your body emanated.
You held Sirius tightly, you wanted to show him what true love was, he deserved the safety and comfort he craved so much.
He deserved to be loved as much as you did.
I can't explain how much I suffered writing this story, the ideas didn't come out the way I wanted, I rewrote everything again and I'm still not 100% convinced, but I didn't want to keep waiting any longer and I didn't think I could write anything better, and I was already somewhat frustrated by not getting anything out, I hope you liked it and if you have any constructive criticism it is appreciated, I'm sorry if this isn't very good, xoxo
#⋆˙⟡ gracie's diary#⋆˙⟡ gracie's fics!#dead wizards from the 70#marauders#writters on tumblr#sirius black#regulus black#marauders x reader#sirius black x reader#sirius black fluff#sirius black hurt/comfort#hurt/comfort#short story#the maraunders map#sirius black x you
17 notes
·
View notes
Text
Where Do We Go Now
pairing: peter parker x stark!reader
synopsis: in which the death of y/n's father leaves her determined to bring him back and her boyfriend peter determined to save her
warnings: endgame aftermath, death, parental loss, isolation, suicide attempt (but magical?), it gets better - I promise
word count: 7.1k
masterlist
a/n: Hey guys. This is going to be a bit longer than my usual notes, but I feel like I should explain why I've been gone for so long and why this story is a lot sadder than my usual ones. My community has been riddled with tragedy recently as we've lost a lot of people to suicide this past year, some of which have been as young as middle school age. One of my friends died by suicide a couple months ago. I can't express to you guys how hard it's been trying to deal with the pain and the guilt his death has caused me and my loved ones. So many days have passed where I wish I could've been a better friend for him while he was here. It hurts more knowing that other people are hurting too. Writing this was the best way for me to cope for many reasons. I wanted to write about how I'm feeling and honor my friend in some way even if it's through a silly little fanfiction. I know I'm late, but I also wanted to honor one of my favorite characters, Tony Stark as he canonically died this past October. That being said, if you are struggling please, I implore you, talk to someone. There are so many people on this planet who would be so torn without you. My dms are always a safe space if you need anything at all <3
Also I'd like to thank Gracie Abrams for her music that I had on repeat the entire time I was writing this. I hope you like it!
“I am Iron Man.”
The words replayed in your head, over and over like a broken record with no one to turn it to a new tune. That’s exactly how you felt. So alone in your grief that even if miraculously every wish you'd ever made in the whole of your existence had been granted, it still wouldn’t be enough to make you happy again. To make you feel anything besides the constant regret and incessant grief that anchored you down as you wasted away in your bed.
It had been exactly a week since the passing of the great Tony Stark. Everyone else in the compound had mourned their coworker, riddled by a somewhat lesser version of your sadness for only a few days after his death. It’s not as if their grief had been washed away as if it never stained their cheeks with tears or weighed down their hearts with sorrow, but it eased much quicker than yours and before long they could continue their duties. Everything was so much harder for you because Tony hadn’t just been a coworker. He was your father.
You relieved every memory you had of him like bittersweet torture. You remembered when he held you as a little girl, wiping up a bloodied knee. When he discovered you had powers and helped you control them. Later on when he banned you from joining in on the Avenger’s Civil War and afterwards when he thanked you for sneaking in to help anyway. You could almost feel his comforting embrace as if it was only yesterday that he was assuring you before a failed battle against the mad Titan Thanos, the same one that left you dusted and missing your father’s last five years on Earth. And finally, of course, you remember his last moments all too well. It played out before you like the tragic ending of a stage play.
“Let me do it,” you shouted over the sound of war cries and carnage that surrounded you on the packed battlefield. “I can take it!”
You were almost certain that your power, your immeasurable magic, could handle the debilitating strength of the Infinity Stones making you the most reasonable choice for snapping Thanos and his army out of existence, but your father refused to risk losing his eldest.
“No,” he breathed, the metal plate shielding his chest rising and falling from the heat of the action. There was only one way to succeed, only one way to put a stop to the destruction of the universe. It had to be him. “I won’t risk losing you, not while you’re still so young. You have so much life ahead of you.”
“Not without you!” you cried, a tear streaming from your eye.
There wasn’t much time for your conversation as the world was moments away from being wiped of its human history, but despite the odds your father pulled you into a tight hug, as if he knew it would be the last. You both did.
“You are the strongest person I’ve ever known and I’m so proud of what you’ve become already.” he smiled when you finally pulled apart.
“I need you dad,” you sobbed, still reluctant to let him leave you. With the threat of his death, suddenly Thanos’ defeat didn’t matter anymore. Not nearly as much as having your father by your side. “I’m not ready.”
Your dad looked down on you with the saddest of smiles, but if any part of him was upset about his decision, he made no other hint toward it. He just held you close for as long as possible and comforted you in the way that you could always count on him for. In the way, it hit you, that you could never count on him for again. But yet, in the face of death, he cradled you close and spoke in his signature fatherly tone: assertive yet on the edge of softness.
“No one’s ever ready -,” he answered truthfully. “- but I know you can handle it. You always do.”
You looked up at him as he finally pulled away and headed towards the purple giant, but not before turning to you for one final declaration.
“I love you, junior, to the edge and back again.”
And then he was gone. You never got the chance to say it back.
Yours was the last name he uttered before his heart stopped beating and the light on his suit went out. By then Pepper had already said her goodbyes and you both were huddled close to his body, weeping as the other Avengers knelt around you in honor of your father. Peter was hunched behind you, one hand on your shoulder while the other worked to wipe away his own tears. Oh Peter, you had your father to thank for him.
It was Tony who was credited with setting you up with your long term boyfriend, Peter Parker, even if it was a complete accident. You two had gotten acquainted on a fateful plane ride to Germany and eventually ended up together after many failed attempts at confessing your feelings. There was something about him that had you smitten with him from your first encounter, your liking only strengthened when you learned that your father approved. He’d been with you through thick and thin and even now, Peter was the only person who could even remotely share your pain besides Pepper. Tony was like his father too.
He’d taken care of you ever since the incident. Brought you food and water, helped you dress in your black attire for the funeral, laid with you in your bed each night to calm you whenever you awoke in a nightmarish terror. He showed his love for you prevailing over his grief in the most selfless of ways and yet all you had managed to do since you father’s funeral was stand to use the restroom every once in a while. It piled on more weight that your poor soul could already take. You were nothing, but a miserable burden now.
The door to your room opened with squealing hinges as Peter stepped in, returning from school where he had spent the morning reuniting with your shared friends and finding out when the official return date was. You were supposed to join him, but instead you hadn’t moved an inch since he left. It wasn’t as if you wanted to waste the entire day in your lonely sheets again. You yearned for everything to go back to how it was; when Peter was happy and you could share it with him. When your father used to smile upon the two teens he didn’t mean to bring together. When your father was alive.
“Hey,” he said, softly as if not to startle you from your endless torturous pondering. He set something down on your dresser, a small stack of papers he must have gathered from the school, and removed his fall coat before sauntering over to you. The bed creaked and shifted under his weight as he took a seat next to you. “Good news, we don’t have to go back until the next semester so we get a break until January. Ned was asking about you. He wants to know how you’re doing.”
You turned your head to look at him, your eyes red-rimmed from all of your crying and your lips cracked and dry.
“What did you tell him?” you croaked, your voice hoarse from under use. There was little to talk about and no one else to talk to whenever Peter wasn’t around. Pepper had visited you once, but with Morgan to look after, she couldn’t spare much time for her late husband’s grieving daughter. You’d seen Happy a couple times as well, but he needed his own time to recover and reflect on his past time with his best friend.
Peter was gentle as he tucked some of the hair strands snot cemented to your jaw behind your ear and cupped your cheek in his palm. He was cold from the autumn chill outside, but his hand ignited the same soothing heat that his touch always brought forth.
“I said you were recovering,” he answered truthfully. “And that it’s different for everyone. And no matter how long it takes, I’m here for you every step of the way.”
The ghost of a smile graced your lips and had it not felt like it stopped beating after losing your father, your heart may have fluttered in its cavity in your chest.
“Thanks Peter,” you curled closer to him in the most sincere of ways. “But I’m afraid it’s going to be a while before I can get up to see Ned again. Give him my best.”
“Take your time. I’m sure he understands.” Peter assured before pulling off his flannel and laying down beside you to wrap you in his arms, allowing you to tuck your face in his chest. As unhappy as you were, all the swirling emotions of suffering were always suppressed by the sound of Peter’s heart and the feel of his body around yours. You stayed like that for a while, holding each other before Peter broke the silence as it neared time for your midday meal.
“I think you should come with me today,” Peter suggested, rising to run his daily lunch retrieval before running a loving hand through your hair. You couldn’t understand how he hadn’t gotten sick of you yet. You hadn’t been able to wash in over a week. “It’s not good for you to stay here all day long. You need to start moving.”
His voice was full of worry, though he wasn’t overbearing. He wanted the best for you, it’s all he ever wanted really.
“I don’t know Peter, I don’t think I can.” you sighed as tears started to fill your eyes again. How could anyone stand to be around you when you were being so pathetic. You wished there was a way to erase your pain, anything to bring you to your normal self again.
“It's okay baby,” Peter hugged you into a tight embrace, kissing your tears as they fell in slow salty streams. “I know it hurts, I feel it too. But I read somewhere that the best thing to do is keep a consistent routine. Maybe you should start today. Come get lunch with me.”
You wanted to agree, but there was no part of you that could move from the weight of your grief. It pressed you down, gravity multiplied by the mass of your sadness as it consumed you. It felt as if only a miracle could save you now.
“I’m so sorry.” you stated with remorse, but Peter made no move to share his disappointment if he had any at all. Instead he leaned down from his seated position and placed his lips on your forehead, a gesture as if to say that all was alright.
“Please don’t cry, y/n. It’s okay.” he assured you before standing to leave and get you something that you figured you probably wouldn’t even eat very much of.
“I’ll be right back,” he promised, turning the handle of your door to leave before looking back at you sprawled on your bed. Suddenly, as if he had recalled the cure to the rainiest of days, he expression shifted to one of great excitement as he stopped back into your room.
“I almost forgot,” he began. “Doctor Strange was here earlier. He wanted me to tell you he’s offering some meditation sessions for you if you’re interested. He said they’d be good for your powers and that they might help you feel better if you want to think about it. He’s free at 8 tomorrow.”
You nearly perked up at the sound of the man’s name, picking up your head to cast a last longing glance at Peter as he waited for a parting word.
“Thanks,” you managed. “I’ll let you know.”
And off Peter went to get you both something to eat.
You weren’t sure if he knew how dangerous it was for you to be left with your thoughts, how the mention of the magic doctor sprouted a myriad of mystical ideas all aimed at the same goal that would erase your eternal lonesome aching. How to bring your father back. By the time Peter returned with his hands full of two homemade sandwiches and more sweets than the two of you could ever finish in one sitting, your mind had been made up and you were ready to set the plan in motion.
The following evening was your first time out of the confines of your rooms for days. Peter had helped you greatly with all the tasks you did not have the mental power to do all on your own. He had brushed your hair and made your bed and before you left in one of the less expensive cars held on Avenger’s campus, he sent you off adorned with one of his favorite sweatshirts, a peck on the forehead and enough I love you’s to last more than a lifetime.
You pulled the sleeve of Peter’s sweatshirt over your palm as you drove off, using the cloth to wipe away fresh tears that had fallen after you left your boyfriend’s loving gaze. You’d always been an overthinker, but your bad habits crept up on you worse in your unbreakable stage of sadness. Especially in your father’s favorite car.
You didn’t understand why he hadn’t left you already. Maybe he would. Peter had offered to join you at Strange’s, but after you insisted you had to go alone, he made plans to go help his Aunt May figure out their apartment situation as the pair had been inadvertently kicked out after being gone for so many years. You’d almost forgotten he used to split his nights between the compound and his own bedroom. Recently he’d only stay with you.
He promised to be back before dinner so that the two of you could keep up your progress, but an unsolicited voice within you convinced you that he wouldn’t want to return. You weren’t good enough for him anymore, not like you used to be. Your plan was better for the both of you and as you pulled up to the familiar building on Bleecker Street, all the pieces started to fall into place.
You stepped up to the door, raising your fist to knock only for the door to crack open by itself as if to invite you in. You waited for the familiar sternness of Doctor Strange’s voice to greet you once you were past the stone floored foyer, but only wisps of the autumn breeze caught your ear.
“Strange?” you called, your voice still not stable enough to be louder than a whispery dialogue. You were met with no response. It was just like you had planned. The wizard wasn’t home.
You felt a strong tug towards the room of your desires, the forbidden library. It was as if fate was leading you or some other force from above, another sign that you were meant to do it.
Your steps were more sure than they had been in days as you made your way to the self, passing any magical fire walls with the sheer unfiltered strength of your powers. Strange once told you that they were guided by your emotion, the quintessential essence of every magic holder even to people like you and Wanda Maximoff who were outside of his world protecting wizard cult. It was easier than it should have been, like slicing paper with a katana, you broke each enchantment until all that was left was the cool leather cover of the book you were looking for. The book with every answer you needed inside its ancient yellowing pages, but you only needed the spell that would revive your father. Locating it near the middle of the book, your tore out the page and turned back to your car, leaving the Sanctum with the same unhurried pace you had entered it with. There was no stopping you now.
Peter was only an half an hour late for your agreed meet up time when he arrived at the campus. He expected you’d be in your room as per usual and as he made his way to your door, the excitement of getting to hold you and talk about your first day out of the campus since the funeral built up in his chest. He wasn’t sure if any accomplishment in the world could make him as proud as he was of you. With two brown paper bags of groceries in his hand, he couldn’t wait to shower you in the affection that you deserved with all of your favorite snacks, enough to share of course.
“Y/n,” he smiled, using his webbing to open your door handle only to find, much to his disappointment, that you were nowhere to be found.
He checked all over campus, leaving the bags by your bed. No one had seen you since you’d left and the spot where the car you’d taken was still empty, the normally pristine concrete covered in fallen crisp maroon leaves. It didn’t make any sense. Where could you possibly have gone?
“Y/n!” he called, circling the perimeter of the campus looking for you. There was still no sign of your reappearance. “Y/n- oh. Hi Ms. Maximoff.” Peter forced a strained smile as he nearly bumped into the woman.
“Peter, we’ve been over this,” Wanda answered, her voice calm. “You can call me Wanda.”
Like you, the witch hadn’t been doing the best in recent days as she had lost something just as valuable as a father: her partner. While she occasionally had days where the ground would’ve been lucky to feel the grace of her step, her superhero duties had kept her from spending each day hidden from society. She had a different way of coping, but like others, she seemed to start getting back into routine again.
“Right, sorry Wanda.” Peter apologized.
“What are you doing out here?” inquired the witch in her native Sokovian accent, always intuitive. “Is something wrong?”
“It’s y/n. I can’t find her anywhere and we agreed to meet back here nearly - an hour ago!” Peter pulled up his coat sleeve to check the time on his watch, the face of which bore a picture of him and your father from only a few months before the snap. It had been a birthday gift, one of his favorites in fact, though it couldn't top what you had given him the same year: a lego set and your first kiss.
“I didn’t know that she got out of bed. That’s a big step!”
“Yes it is and we were going to celebrate tonight, but she hasn’t come back yet which is really not like her.” worried Peter.
“Where did she go?”
“Strange’s. He was going to give her a meditation lesson for her powers.”
Confused, Wanda's eyebrow furrowed and she crossed her arms over her chest. “Doesn’t she know how to use them already?”
“Yes, but he thought it would help her manage her grief. Working out is a pretty common method, but she hates going to the gym so he figured some meditation would be better for her and -“
“Wait, hold on. Did she go to him this morning?”
“Yes and she was supposed to be back around noon, but it’s nearly six and she’s still gone.” Peter explained.
“Peter!” Wanda chided. She couldn't believe he could make such a grave mistake.
“What?”
“Strange hasn’t been at the Sanctum all day!”
“What?! Where is he?”
“Do I look like a wizard to you?" the witch gestured to her casual leggings and cardigan pairing that drastically differed from Strange's usual eccentric costumes. "How should I know?”
As if summoned by the topic of conversation, a figure appeared in the distant grass, hovering over the blades until he was close enough to be able to walk. His cape that flowed in the breeze like a blood red stream with a mind of its own was a dead give away. Doctor Strange had indeed arrived in the flesh.
“Parker,” he greeted, though he did not smile. “Is Ms. Stark ready for our lesson?”
Peter’s eyes went wide as he realized his mistake.
“Oh no.” he muttered, shaking his head in defeat. He was met with confusion from the wizard.
“No?” Strange repeated. “We agreed upon 8 didn't we? I know I'm a little early, but I assumed she wouldn't be busy. Didn’t you let her know I was coming?”
“Yes,” Peter confirmed. “I told her to be ready and then I sent her off to your place at 8… am.”
“What?!” Strange exclaimed as he summoned a portal to appear leading directly to his found home on Bleecker Street. He stepped through the fiery ring, a silent invitation for the others to follow as he hurried passed your car, up the steps, and into the door which did not part of him the same way it had earlier. Inside he was met with the most frightful of discovers accompanied by the looming feeling of doom as the situation became clear.
The Sanctum, unguarded with his absence, lay littered with books that had fallen from their homes on his shelf’s yet one stood out from all the others. It laid on the floor open with its pages to the ground while every other book was shut. Levitating it with the simple flick of his wrist, a horrifying sight awaited Strange as he turned it over. One of the pages in the sacred book was missing.
“Do you know how serious this is?!” Strange exclaimed and although Peter at first took it as a barbed criticism aimed directly at him, he was able to distinguish Strange’s tone from when he was reprimanding. This was a separate kind of worry, the sort of tone that he had used heavily on the fated spaceship you three had been stuck in until you landed on Titan, Thanos’ home world, nearly five years ago. Treachery was afoot and if your powers were involved, the whole fabric of your current reality could change.
“Which one did she take?” Wanda pointed to the book, clearly noticing the giant tear in its center.
Strange’s voice answered, heavy with concern. “The revival spell.”
“You don’t think she knows, do you? She can’t possibly know how to conjure it.” asked Wanda, the same concern for their future written all over her face.
“That’s exactly what I think.” Strange confirmed.
“What?” Peter asked. “What are you guys talking about?”
“There are many types of magic, Parker, and the Sanctum, the building where you sent your girlfriend, is full of all of them, good and bad alike. Every spell comes with a price, the bigger the spell, the bigger the price and the spell she took comes with one of the biggest prices there is to pay.”
“Think about it, Peter,” Wanda paled. “What does y/n want most in the world right now?”
It hit Peter harder than fresh fallen hail. You were going to try to bring your father back.
“We have to find her. Now.”
Strange tried to use his sling ring to appear wherever you were, but in your grief, the extent of your powers had grown massively. Intentionally or not, you managed to prevent even the most powerful of wizards from using his Sling Ring to access your location.
“She's blocked me out.” Strange frowned. “We’re going to have to track her on foot.”
“She can’t be far,” Peter agreed. “She always takes the shortest path whenever she wants something.” It was one of the many things he loved about you: your ability to turn any taxing task into something much simpler. You were one of the cleverest people he knew. He just hoped it didn’t work in your favor this time.
It was Wanda who had the idea of tracking your magic. She led them to the nearest withering woodland area, where trees with bare branches and dying leaves sprawled endlessly. It was the perfect place to perform dark magic, away from the unyielding eyes of society. The trio didn’t hesitate to run in.
The further they got, the closer you felt especially to Peter despite the fact that he was the only one without his own source of magic. If he lost you tonight, he feared he’d never feel any sort of magic ever again.
They were only half an acre in when Wanda and Strange called out in anguish, the witch falling to her knees while Strange stayed standing, pounding the air with his fist as his trying to break through an invisible barrier though it was to no avail. Whatever was holding him back, it wasn’t fading anytime soon.
“Keep going, Parker!” he shouted, urging Peter forward. “You’re the only one who can stop her. The spell will only allow that which she loves.”
“How do I do it?” Peter shouted. “How do I stop the spell?”
“The page,” Wanda replied, quicker than Strange could as his reply was easy for her to access. “You have to tear it apart.”
Without wasting a second more, Peter sprung back towards where he could feel you, running without fatigue as his superhuman endurance supplied him with plenty of energy.
It was only a minute later that he caught his first sign of you. There was a break in the tree line out of which a bright amber glow poured like an incandescent warning. It was a dramatic contrast from the normal comforting emerald greens of your magic, but it was you nonetheless and Peter didn’t stop until he was so close he had to shade his eyes from the light.
If it weren’t for the dark nature of what you were doing, Peter would’ve considered it one of the most beautiful events he’d ever seen take place. He wasn’t sure if the circle of trees that surrounded you had been a natural formation or one you made for the sake of the spell, but he was sure the way they seemed to bend to your will, despite the hard wood of their birch trunks, had to be because of your power. In the center of it all was you and the page you had stolen atop a pile of purple and golden leaves. You stood before it, eyes closed as you whispered some sort of incantation. Your powers spread above you in orange flickering flames as you outstretched your arms and summoned what looked like the beginnings of a portal, though it was hard to peer through like a bride covered in a veil of night black.
Peter shouted your name, screaming for you to stop, but you didn’t so much as flinch as the portal grew. You couldn’t hear him over the force of your will. He could start to feel what Wanda and Strange were trapped behind. There was some sort of invisible wall that threatened to push him back from you, but he couldn’t be defeated. He had to stop you. Step by step, he got closer and closer to you, watching in horror as your body was lifted from the ground and floated in midair. A new energy started weeping through the fabric that covered your chest, soft and white like a sheer glittering fabric. It drifted towards the portal and as Peter neared you he could make out the outline of a face forming from it in the black center of it. It started to take shape, growing a neck and a body and becoming more concrete than a fragmented part of your energy. He became more unmistakable as the color grew back into his face. Tony Stark, in the flesh. Peter hurried towards the page.
You opened your eyes to gaze into the face of your father, tears flowing down your face partially from the exhaustion of bringing him back and from being able to see him again.
You tried to say something, tell him how much you had missed him, but you were left rendered without a voice. Your words came out as mouthed nonsense, though it seemed he had regained his voice.
“Y/n,” he uttered, though it seemed more like a warning than a greeting after being torn from you for so long.
You mouthed something you knew he’d understand. I love you too, dad.
Some other force called your name, but you ignored it. You couldn’t focus on anything else, but the father you had lost regaining life right in front of you. With every part that he gained, you felt a part of your fade. It wasn’t painful, more numbing than anything like the final dose to end all your sadness. You couldn’t help but relish in it. You were bringing back one of the greatest men to ever live.
You were so distracted, you missed the web that landed on the page below you and pulled it away.
“Y/n,” your dad said again, nearly having enough of one of his legs to step out of the portal when suddenly, the inky blackness swallowed him whole again and dissolved in the forest light, taking back the only thing you ever wanted.
“NO!” you cried as your voice returned to you and you fell back down to the dry grass and dead leaves, crumpled on the forest floor as all of the magic you had summoned faded away save for the glittering cloud that returned to your chest with such force it made you cough. You had failed.
“Y/n!” someone called and you shuddered away from their hand on your shoulder as loud sobs erupted from you.
“Leave me!” you begged. “Just leave!” Peter refused to leave your side, tossing behind him the page he had shredded into tiny scraps of paper as he knelt beside you, careful not to touch you again. “Why did you have to do that? Why did you take him from me?”
“You were going to die! I couldn’t let you di-“
“I WANTED TO DIE!”
Peter froze as you whimpered, the truth spreading above the both of you in the cold air like storm clouds as you cried to him.
“I want him back. Everyone wants him back. No one cares about his depressed daughter and I don’t want to hurt anymore, Peter.” you paused to take a deep breath. “It- it hurts so much.” you could barely get the words out as you were choked by your sobs. “It hurts knowing I could’ve saved him. It hurts knowing it should’ve been me that snapped those stupid stones. And I don’t want to live with that anymore. I had to try to bring him back for the world. It needs him more than it needs me.”
You brought a hand to your face, wiping away some of your tears, though it was no use as more came pouring out.
“I need you.” uttered Peter, looking into your glossy eyes. The sight of your tears and the echo of your screams couldn’t deter him from you. You can’t be repelled from the ones that you love.
“But you miss him, don’t you,” you argued as hot tears coated your face. “You want him back too.”
Peter nodded in agreement.
“I think about him everyday. Our moments together. Like this one time he saved me from drowning in a lake. Or-“ Peter grinned. “- remember when he caught us making out that one time before we told him we were together. He was so mad.” Peter smiled to himself, looking fondly on the memory until he began again.
“I miss him so much and it makes me so sad that I'll never see him again. But I wouldn’t trade you for him. I wouldn't trade you for anyone. You’re worth more to me than anyone else in the universe.”
Your sobs slowed yet the tears did not cease as they still cascaded down your face.
“It hurts me so much.” you restated.
Peter opened his arms. “May I?” he asked. You nodded and before you knew it, you were engulfed by a warmth unlike any other as Peter hugged you tight enough to make sure you wouldn’t try to leave him again.
“I know you do,” he related. "And I wish I could take it away. I wish I could just bag all your pain and throw it all away. But it doesn't work like that. It's going to hurt. It's going to be painful, so much so that you won't move from bed for days and days. You haven't."
"But I feel like everyone else has already moved on. Why can't I?" you shivered.
"No one else was as close to him as you. Everyone else lost a friend. You lost a father. There's a big difference. You can't expect yourself to move on from it. That's not healthy. It's just like I said, I'm here for you no matter how long it takes. You have to take your time with it, don’t rush the process." Peter pressed the lightest of kisses to one of your dampened cheeks.
"I just don't know what to do."
"Breathe."
As silly as it sounded in its simplicity you did as he instructed and inhaled deeply, allowing the air to coat your lungs that hadn’t been exposed to so much fresh air in a week. As you exhaled, you let out another sob in his arms, but somehow it felt better than all the others. You were not rid of your pain by any means and sadness still corroded your core, but for the first time in so long, you didn’t feel so hopeless. Peter placed another gentle kiss on your cheek, encouraging you as you took several more slow breaths and quiet cries until you found the strength to speak again.
“Was it like this for you when your parents died?” you wondered aloud as you pulled away from Peter to look into his chocolate brown eyes that you almost forgot you loved so much, yet not so far that he couldn't keep his arms around your frame that was still bearing his sweatshirt. You hadn’t spoken much about them before and while you weren’t sure where the question had arisen from, it felt like the right thing to ask.
“I was so young when they passed, sometimes I feel like they were never mine to begin with,” he admitted. “I took a couple days off school when it happened, but I don’t remember crying all that much. It’s tragic and sometimes it makes me sad that they’re gone, but I’m glad that it does. It’s a reminder that they were there for me in the first place, that I knew them enough to miss them. The grief is proof that I loved them while they were here.”
You were both silent for a moment as you thought about his words in relation to your situation. All your pain was put into perspective. Everything you had been through since he died, all the days you wasted away in bed, it was all the proof that you had loved him so much when he was alive and that you were still carrying the love you had left for him. You missed your father so much you were willing to die to get him back and for a moment, you almost did.
You parted from Peter’s arms to stand though you still grasped onto his hands as you weren’t strong enough to be upright on your own. You closed your eyes again and listened to the sound of the forest, the swaying of the leaves that still clung to their branches, the faint twittering of birds, and the calm of the sky that was oddly cloudless for autumn. The sound of your name falling from your father’s reformed lips was still faint in the air and for a moment you felt as though you were with him again.
You remembered when he taught you how to ride a bike one evening when you were only four. You remembered the day he pulled you from public school and started teaching you at home. You remembered the look of shock on his face when you showed him your powers for the first time and even more, you remember his pride when you completed your first mission with the Avengers (that he'd approved ahead of time to avoid any more Germany -like surprises). He wasn’t there, but at the same time he was everywhere. And you missed him, but at the same time the absence he left in your life felt less empty.
The tears came out in slow smooth streams, flowing down in slow trickles as you finally sat back down. You didn’t say anything and neither did Peter, but you knew he could feel what you felt. He could feel your father too and minutes slipped by as you sat and cried together.
There was a sudden rustling in the distance and soon enough, Doctor Strange and Wanda had arrived at the scene, no longer held back by invisible barriers. They rushed to you bringing flooding guilt through your system as you began to apologize.
“I’m sorry,” you cried. “I’m so sorry.”
Strange opened his mouth to speak, but he had nothing to say. You could tell by his expression that he was disappointed, but there was more to it. He had empathy.
It was Wanda that leaned down to place a friendly hand on your shoulder.
“Let’s get you home.”
The months following were some of the hardest of your life. Every battle you faced was uphill, but you no longer felt like you were fighting alone. You started going out again, first to visit Pepper and your half sister Morgan who lived in their cabin home. Peter joined you of course, but he played with Morgan for the most part while you and Pepper talked. You cried with her, but you laughed a lot too. She shared with you so many of her own memories, times when your father didn't know what to get you for your birthday, when he had managed to mess up cooking dinner in the strangest of ways, and when he’d accidentally burned your favorite stuffed animal in the drying machine all of which Pepper had to remedy. Though she hadn’t raised you, she was the mother you never had and through her stories you learned that your father had been just as good raising Morgan with her as he had been with you.
You hung out with Ned and MJ again shortly after that. While Peter had suggested a brief check-in at a cafe so you could go home quickly to rest, you surprised him with a much more time consuming idea: laser tag. The four of you had the best time targeting each other, you winning more rounds than any of the others. You ended the day with smoothies, talking as you drank and making plans for the next time you would all see each other. MJ made you promise you would text her if you ever needed anything and Ned gave you a whole plate of his Lola’s ensaymadas, your favorite dish of hers.
Finally, though he was locked up in his house and avoiding humanity, you visited Happy. Peter offered to join you like all the other times, but you assured him it would be best if he stayed home, promising you would return later. Happy was in a similar state of dismay to you when you saw him and while he was able to care for himself and continue with his personal routine, you could tell he was hurting.
You didn't say much when you first entered his apartment, but there was comfort within the silence. You sat with him on his sofa and watched whatever mind numbing program he had turned on to distract his thoughts until you had both worked up an appetite for lunch. It was there, in the middle of a random Burger King in Queens over a plate of cheeseburgers that you both broke down. You told him what you had nearly done, trusting him with the sensitive information as he was almost a second father to you. You took your time telling him the story of how you had nearly died to bring back your father.
Happy cried as you did and when you were finished, he told you how much you meant to him. He traded your story for one from your father after he returned from Afghanistan where he had famously been kidnapped.
"You could tell he was shaken," Happy began. "He told me he wasn't scared to die, but he was scared of losing time with you and leaving you alone. Pepper and I had been so busy trying to get him back, he was worried you had been neglected while he was gone. But when he came home and he saw your room clean, your toys put away, and a fridge full of leftovers from meals you prepared yourself, he was so proud. You inspired him to turn his life around. It was after that he told me that he knew you'd be okay if he was taken from us one day."
You both cried after that.
Long after you had finished your food, Happy drove you to the Parker's new apartment with the promise that he would be okay too, eventually. He also admitted that he was starting to develop quite the liking for your faithful boyfriend after hearing all that he had done for you, though he’d skin you alive if you ever told Peter.
It was that night in Peter's new bedroom that you knew you’d be okay. It still hurt to think of your father and you knew you’d never entirely recover and that the pain would never fully leave you, but there was a certain comfort in it now. You knew Peter felt it too as he snuggled half asleep into your side, his arm slung around your body in a protective manner, but also to keep from falling of the twin bed you shared as he let you sleep on the side with the wall. There were still days when you didn’t want to leave your bed, but there were also days when you felt more elated than ever. You could feel your father in those moments the most, like the shine of his smile took form in the light from the sun. You couldn’t see him nor could you speak with him, but you knew he wasn’t really gone. It was love that kept him around. And it was the love you carried for him that would suspend you for lifetimes, through light and dark until the end of time.
“I hope this grief stays with me because its all the unexpressed love” - Andrew Garfield 💙
#tom holland x you#tom holland#tom holland x reader#tom holland x y/n#peter parker x you#peter parker x y/n#peter parker x reader#peter parker#mental health#suicide awareness#avengers endgame#tony stark#stark!daughter#stark!reader#fem!reader#you are loved
81 notes
·
View notes
Text
dark red. (grace clinton)
word count: 1.1k
couldn’t act like her accent wasn’t my fav thing ever anymore 🫣🫣
based on steve lacy’s song
You had no idea that Grace would be joining you at Bristol.
She had told your entire team but she intended to surprise you at training on the first day of her loan.
You were also a loan player, being brought up through the Arsenal ranks, but you had decided that going out on loan would be better for your career as you were only twenty.
i think of her so much it drives me crazy
“I miss you and I’ll see you soon Gracie,” you told the brunette at the end of your voice note, as you walked through the training grounds.
You hadn’t seen your best friend in over three months, due to both of your ever so busy schedules, that never seemed to sync up.
There were often times where you would find yourself going through your photo album, that was just photos of the two of you.
You always knew that the feelings you had towards Grace were different to the ones you had for your other friends.
Whether it was the slight blush that was evident on your face anytime she gave you a hug, or the way that your smile was just a little bigger than normal anytime she told you she loved you, maybe it was the lingering touches or the longing stares.
But all the signs were there, you were just waiting for her to notice them.
As you walked into the changing rooms many had snapped their heads up to look at you, before quickly busying themselves with something.
Making your way over to your cubby, you can feel the many pairs of eyes on your back.
“Why’s everyone staring at me? I’m not wearing different shoes right?” You whispered glancing down, you’re relieved to see a matching pair of shoes but you were still very confused. “You’ll see soon enough,” one of your teammates told you as she laced up her cleats.
Following suit you quickly laced yours up, before making your way onto the pitch.
Practice seemed to drag on for a significant amount of time before the head coach Lauren told everyone that the entire team needed to meet back out on the pitch in ten minutes so that she could introduce the newest member of the team.
Yet again many eyes danced straight over to your figure as you sipped on your water bottle.
Everyone’s mood seemed to have lifted drastically since the end of training and everyone was buzzing to meet the newest member.
Of course you were the only person who didn’t know who the newbie was, but you were blissfully unaware, as you gathered everything to put in your bag.
You were the second person to leave the changing rooms and as you made your way back onto the pitch, you see the gaffer make her way back onto the pitch this time occupied by a very familiar face next to her.
Your mouth almost drops to the floor in shock as you see the Grace Clinton standing in front of your very eyes.
“No fucking way,” you mutter under your breath as you try contain the urge to jump into her arms.
“Ladies I’d like to introduce you to our newest player, I trust you’ll make her feel very welcomed during her time here.”
Grace was instantly swept into chaos as everyone tried to introduce themselves to the girl at once, you hung back and patiently waited for her to introduce herself to everyone before she made her way over to you.
i belong with you, and only you, baby
Your arms circle around her waist as hers is thrown over your shoulder as she practically jumps into your hold, being in her arms felt like home.
“I’m so glad you’re here,” you whisper into her shoulder before stepping back.
“But you should’ve told me you were coming you twat, where are you staying while you’re here and how are going to get to training in the morning?” Your worries were quickly brushed off as she assured that she had everything under control.
Many of your teammates laughed at your worrisome behaviour but your attention was solely on Grace.
only you my girl, only you babe
“Come back to mine?” You questioned the brunette as you linked your arms with hers, the two of you were slowly walking through the hallway as you gave her a tour.
Glancing over at you a faint smile was placed on her face, “is that even a question y/n/n, we have so much to catch up on!” Her hand made its way to hold a firm grip on your bicep as you walked down the hallway.
The small action of affection sent your entire brain into overdrive as you tried to control your heart rate, you were more than sure that your entire face would be blushed a shade of pink.
After touring the training grounds you made your way back to your apartment.
Once the two of you had settled on your couch with a bowl of popcorn in the middle of you and a crappy rom com on, you finally got chatting.
“So… tell me what’s been happening since we saw each other last.” You questioned the brunette turning to face her.
Grace tiredly looked up at you from her position on the couch, she was sprawled out on the other side of linen couch while her arm hung off the side of it. “Well erm there hasn’t been much happening, besides I spoke to you everyday since you left. And now I’m here, and I’m not leaving you.”
only you darling, only you
“Yeah you better not leave me until we go back to united, assuming that you’re leaving here at the end of the season?”
She nodded and you took her silent answer as a yes while she closed her eyes snuggling into the pillows.
“Don’t eat dinner without me!” Was the last thing she said before her breathing evened out, which led to the conclusion she was asleep.
“Yeah yeah,” with a roll of your eyes and a small smile on your face you grabbed the book that was on the side table to catch up on some reading while the girl you loved ever so deeply was sleeping soundly beside you.
Your once empty apartment was now filled with light and colours as Grace often brought you bunches of flowers or decorations for the apartment.
This was something that you could get used to as it went from sleepovers here and then to her moving in permanently.
The once lonely empty apartment had become your safe haven and more importantly the reason that the two of you finally solidified your relationship.
170 notes
·
View notes
Text
Love of your life: Jily
based on 21 by Gracie Abrams
wc: 721
I missed your 21st birthday, I've been up at home
Almost tried to call you, don't know if I should
Hate to picture you half-drunk happy
Hate to think you went out without me
Lily was sitting on the kitchen floor staring at her phone that lied at her feet. The clock on the oven read 11:37 p.m. She has watched the numbers change for the past hour. With a sigh she closed her eyes. The 27th of march should be a day like any other: waking up, going to class, chatting with Mary, working her shift at the small secondhand-shop “The Valkyries”, coming home, making dinner and going to bed. But for the past 5 years the 27th of march has been so much more. James birthday was always a big occasion, as sunshine personified many people knew him and wanted to celebrate. Lily imagined that right know he was probably laughing, trying to drunkenly play darts with Sirius in some dingy bar. The entire day she has been debating if she should call. It would probably be weird to call your ex after 7 months to congratulate him on his birthday. She wonders if he wants her to.
I'm sorry if you blame me, if I were you, I would
Thought you'd see it comin', but you never could
I still haven't heard from your family
But you said your mom always loved me
After everything went up in flames at the start of last semester they haven't really talked. Remus has told her he is doing better as of late after she begged him to tell her how he actually is. Lily knows she should be happy to hear that but she can't shake the uneasy feeling. She wonders if James blames her the way she blames herself. If she could just love him the way he loved her. He could never understand her. When she closes her eyes she still sees his face when she told him they should break up. His open mouth, his glossy eyes. Him begging to give them another chance. How they have overcome so many obstacles already. She feels sorry for his parents. They were always kinder than her own. Since the break up she hasn't heard from them. She hopes they're well.
I see the look in your eye and I'm bitin' my tongue
You'll be the love of my life when I was young
When the night is over
Don't call me up, I'm already under
I get a little bit alone sometimes and I miss you again
I'll be the love of your life inside your head
Breaking up with James was one of the hardest things she has ever done. Staying would have been so easy. The perfect guy to marry. Her uni girl friends always told her how she hit the jackpot with a boyfriend like James. Sweet, kind James who is so in love with her. Her prince charming, the man of her childhood daydreams. On days like these when she feels alone at night she misses him and his arms who would hold her close. Then she remembers that she felt even more alone there. He always looked at her with so much love in his eyes but was he ever seeing her for who she was? The Lily she is today? It was like she looked in the mirror and suddenly saw someone completely different than the person James saw. He was so in love with 13-year-old Lily that he didn't realize that she didn't exist anymore and he was living with a stranger.
Just because you're hurtin' doesn't mean I'm not
If it doesn't go away by the time I turn thirty
I made a mistake and I'll tell you I'm sorry
Remus told her that Sirius was furious. How could she betray James? How could she hurt him so much? As if she didn’t cry for a week and had to call out from work because she got a migraine. It still hurts to think about them and she wonders in the darkness of her room if she made a mistake. Mary told her it would get better but what if it doesn't? What if she’s still here on her kitchen floor in nine years? Will she call him and tell him that she's sorry?
#gracie abrams#jily#jily fanfiction#lily evans#james potter#marauders#marauders fanfiction#the marauders era#jily angst
18 notes
·
View notes
Text
495. I watched Ghostbusters II, and I have questions
Hot take: I loved it.
When they fell on hard times in those five years, it made them more interesting to me. Although, it was never revealed what Winston did in those five years other than appearing at kids birthday parties with Ray. I know Red Letter Media didn't understand why Ray and Winston dances to the Ray Parker Jr. Ghostbusters theme, but I totally get it. My theory is that in the Ghostbusters universe, that song was totally a novelty song that only played on NYC radio stations. My theory is proven more after I saw Frozen Empire and Paul Rudd's character references it.
I do, however wonder why the kids wished He-Man was at their party instead .. I thought that Masters of the Universe/He-Man was more of a mid 80s craze?
I wanna know who Sigourney Weaver had 'dat baby with! Was it the guy who was jealous of Peter in the original film when he waited for Dana outside of orchestra practice? I bet it was him.
Egon wanting to do a gynecological exam on Dana as part of the investigation. Egon totally did it with that slime.
No more smoking! I kinda miss the smoking. I loved in the original that the boys pretty much welcome Winston in by lighting up a cigarette for him in the basement while they discuss Twinkies.
Peter MacNichol! I didn't even realize it was him until I was like forty minutes in. I love him, the only shining light from Ally McBeal! Did I miss why Dana was restoring paintings now instead of being in the orchestra? I guess it was because it was a day job so she could be with baby Oscar at night? I know at one point she tells Janosz that she'll be leaving soon since the baby is getting older?
They are cute as buttons in their suits fighting those death row ghosts in court.
Speaking of cute as buttons, Janine's glam makeover! She got that "return of Ghostbusters" paychecks now.
It's weird that New Years Eve is brought up, and is a giant part of the plot, but other than them wearing the Santa hats in the montage, and the aluminum tree in Peter's awesome apartment, that's all the Christmas we get. Did the entire movie take part in that week between Christmas and New Years? This video tries to figure it out.
Ooo the green dress. Winston saw it in a deleted scene, and said "[Peter's] not coming". Was that dress in the suitcase Peter brings over from Dana's apartment?
Speaking of the suitcase, that apartment scene before their dinner date, that scene felt like it was ten minutes long! I like Peter's apartment, so I'll let it slide.
Winston being scared of the ghost train is one of the best most overacted scenes ever. What was up with all the beheaded heads at the old Subway track?
Why did that scene involving Louis and Janine at Peter's apartment awake something in me? I do have a thing for guys like Louis. I need to put those feelings back away. Y'all know I gave up on dating!
I mean THIS?! With the earmuffs?! I need a minute. Even if Louis thought he had to save the Ghostbusters, I think him and Janine did some things first.
When that cop said "the Titanic just arrived", I felt the emotion in that line. He said it like it was real deal this really happened breaking news. Better Late Than Never.
Bobby Brown's sad cameo where he just opens the door at Gracie Mansion and asks the boys where he can get some ghostbusters stuff for his brother. Yes his song "On Our Own" (which I LOVE) is playing in the background.
I don't care about the Vigo stuff too much, the baby's acting makes the scene bearable however. Those twins who played Oscar were really good baby actors!
Them controlling the Statue of Liberty with the positive slime and the big flat Nintendo controller is silly as heck, and I am here for it.
Now, I know the movie got a cool reception when it came out in June of 1989, especially since it came out the weekend before the biggest movie of the year, Batman. Ghostbusters II made the biggest three day box office record at the time -- but Batman beat it the following weekend. I wanted to read some critic's initial reactions to the movie.
Vincent Camby of The New York Times almost gives away the entire movie's plot! I agree with most of his points, except for him saying the original was "overproduced and sloppy" the effects were made in 1984, what do you expect? On Christmas of 1988, NYT almost gives away the plot again in an article about the behind the scenes process of the film. (gift article)
I think Al meant a "junky" effect when he was referring to the Statue of Liberty walking around instead of a "junkie" effect, but I get what he's saying, even if I loved the scene for its silliness.
(My local paper ran this review too, so that's why you don't see one from my paper. ) I saw Ghostbusters: Frozen Empire the other day, and I feel like this was finally Ernie Hudson's chance to shine after being just the fourth Ghostbuster so so long. To me, each Ghostbuster has their own movie now: the original was Ray's, Ghostbusters II was Peter's, Ghostbusters: Afterlife was (ghost) Egon's, and Frozen Empire was Winston's.
I even found a newsgroup review from June of 1989. That is baby internet! Here is the archive, because I just feel like google groups is going to shut down the old newsgroup archives any day now. Wait, I just found another one (archive).
Here is an article about the press tour held at the newly renovated Plaza hotel in New York City. The press was already clamoring for a third movie. Of course, we wouldn't get that until 2020, 2021, of course.
In closing, never forget the Hardees promotion, with the noisemakers that were recalled almost immediately because lil kids ate the batteries. I remember being about six? and was terrified that my parents were going to take away my Ghostbusters noisemaker.
Facebook | Etsy | Retail History Blog | Twitter | YouTube Playlist | Random Post | Ko-fi donation | instagram / threads @thelastvcr | tik tok @ saleintothe90s
22 notes
·
View notes