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patrophthia · 1 year ago

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attention is what i want! | theo. nott

pairing: theodore nott x fem!reader

genre: pining, one sided crushes, angst !!, complicated feelings, theo is a dick tbh, humor (my attempt at it), reader embarrasses herself (multiple time), girls girls pansy, reader are friends with the golden trio but isn’t a gryffindor, cursing, drinking, a bit suggestive in the end hehe

wc: 4.3k (idk how it got this long, i planned to write sth with like 2k at most but it kept going)

note: i wrote this while listening to attention by new jeans for two hours straight (yay pining!) i have very mixed feelings for this fic but here it is anyways!

summary: it’s no secret that you have a crush on theodore nott, theo knows it, hell the whole school knew it; maybe if they didn’t then it’d be easier for you to get over him after you embarrassed yourself in front of the whole school. at least you got a new friend because of it.

To say you had a crush on Theodore Nott would be an understatement. You never actually confessed to the Slytherin but it's as clear as days that you were into him.

And when he was as good looking as he was, could anyone really blame you?

Not really, not when most of Hogwarts found your attempt at shooting your shot with him the most amusing thing ever.

"Good morning, Nott." Your hand shot upwards the second the Slytherin enters the classroom. His eyes settling on you whilst his friends bickers behind him. "I saved you a seat."

There's snickering from behind you, hushed whispers as your classmate gossips about your pathetic attempt at getting with Theodore once more.

His eyes scans the room, finally settling on one of the two empty seats behind the class and B-lining towards it. Zabini, having lost to Malfoy at grabbing the seat next to Theodore smiles at you kindly. Maybe even apologetically as he sits next to you.

"Better luck next time?" He offers, trying to lighten your mood and you smile back, nodding. "You'll get him eventually."

And though your voice is low, barely audible and muffled; Zabini still manages to hear you huff out a: "doubt it."

"Do you think he'd pay attention to me if I dyed my hair green?" You ask, playing with your hair.

Sure, your hair would end up damaged but if it meant Theodore would spare a glance your way then you'd take it.

Harry looks at you as if you'd grown an extra head, green eyes enlarged as he tries to gauge whether you were serious or not. "Excuse me?"

"I think I could pull of forest green hair."

Hermione rolls her eyes. "No, you can't." She doesn't really mean it though, she does agree that you'd probably pull off forest green hair but she'd rather you do it for your own personal wants rather than to gain someone else's attention. "And you won't."

You only huff at her words. "Why not?"

"Because, it's stupid. You'd look stupid doing so." Mione doesn't bother sugarcoating it, she doesn't need to when you've known her as long as you have. "If you need his attention so badly then ask him out, just drop the question and get it over with."

"I'm trying to!" You groan, passing your plate with leftovers over to Ron who accepts it gladly. "I could walk naked in front of him and he wouldn't even bat an eyelash."

Ron face scrunches at the idea, finding the prospect of a naked you disgusting. "You could put up a banner," he suggests through a mouthful of food. "I'd notice someone if they put up a banner with my name on it."

And when Hermione's whacked Ron at him encouraging what she deemed was self destructive behavior, the conversation shifts to something else completely.

You're huffing and puffing when you straighten up, showing your three closest friends what you'd been working on for the last two days. "What do you think?"

Ron gasps loudly, eyes wide as he takes in the imagine in front of him. "You're crazy."

"If you'd just—" Hermione, as if it was second nature, reaches up and smack at his arm. "—learnt how to shut up, this wouldn't have happened."

It's only natural for you to frown at their reaction, brows knitted as you asked them. "Is it too much?"

Harry, and his sweet sweet soul tries his best to not hurt your feelings as he nodded. "Maybe?" He tries to soften the blow, adding on: "I think it's brilliant, it's just ... a lot."

You look over your masterpiece. Reading out the glittering paint, letter by letter and watching it as it takes shape into one of the biggest banner you've seen at Hogwarts by far.

Written in shining green paint were the words:

A-T-T-E-N-T-I-O-N, attention is what I want. Nott, go out with me?

"I mean, if anything you'll definitely get his attention with that," Harry says, blinking rapidly at the banner. "It's pretty hard to miss."

"Let's hope so."

The dining hall is louder than normal, it has always been noisy; having seated thousands of teenagers who had little to none supervision during their breakfast, lunch, and dinner.

But like Theodore has noted earlier, it's noisier than normal. And the drop of voices is significant when he steps through the large doors, loud gossips turns to hushed whispers; eyes roaming between him and a figure by the Gryffindor table.

It doesn't take him long to notice why, a dust of glitter falling down on him from above. He glances up, eyes squinting as he reads out the banner before him.

A-T-T-E-N-T-I-O-N, attention is what I want. Nott, go out with me?

The letters are bright, glinting under the candle light as if it was taunting him, pushing at his buttons for a reaction. And though, there was no name written on the banner to indicate who'd made it; he knew that it was you.

Dark eyes narrows as he zones in on you. You dressed up nicely, watching him with a pretty smile on your waiting face.

And when all he did was roll his eyes and turn towards the Slytherin table, without sparing you another look. You all but deflated in front of everyone's eyes.

You knew it was stupid, and that it was all your fault to make your love life so public for everyone to entertain themselves with, but you can't help but feel hurt at the laughter bubbling through out the hall.

You're scrambling out of your seat, rushing out of the hall when a voice shouts out. "Serves you right, pick me!"

Oddly enough, it's Pansy who speaks up; her voice loud and clearly irritated when she shouts back, telling them to go and: "Fuck yourself."

Why the Slytherin threw a dirty glare at her friend and ran after you despite the two of you not being friends —let alone having been seen together before, was a mystery to everyone.

And since Hermione loves you too much for her own good, she’s quick to scramble out of her seat, casting a spell to set the banner up in flames as she rushed after Pansy and you.

There’s a sort of guilt that Hermione feels when she finds you hunched over with Pansy’s hand running up and down your back. The two of you weren’t friends, neither is Hermione and Pansy but when a girl’s in need of comfort, it’s only normal for them to be there for her.

“I don’t get why you’re into him, honestly,” Pansy grits out, “out of all the boys in Slytherin you just had to choose the dickhead, didn’t you?”

Hermione can hear you sniffle out a laugh as she takes a seat on your other side. “Out of all the boys in Hogwarts you just had to choose the dickhead, huh?”

Pansy and Hermione are sharing a grin as you lift your head up slightly, a small smile tugging at your lips. “It’s not like I wanted to like him, you know?” You say with a small laugh. “I guess I’m just attracted to an asshole.”

“You’re guessing this now?” Pansy says with a roll of her eyes, there’s no venom in her tone, only playful annoyance. “This isn’t the first time he’s treated you like this. I’ve heard all about your … attempts, you know?”

“Really?” You’re laughing and the hurt in your tone is clearer than ever. “How embarrassing.”

“It’s not,” Hermione reassured you, “if anything I think it’s endearing.”

“Me making a fool of myself for a guy is endearing to you?”

Pansy giggles at your words. “I’ve done worse, maybe just not so publicly.” Her voice is playful when she adds on, “but this should be the final nail in the coffin right? Finally getting over that asshole after this?”

“That asshole is your best friend,” you remind her and she looks to her side bashfully.

“That doesn’t excuse him for being horrible to you,” she mumbled. “And I thought Draco was bad.”

“Malfoy is bad,” Hermione chimes in. “He just didn’t humiliate you like Nott did her.”

Pansy tilts her head to the side in thought. “Maybe. Or maybe we should just stop dating Slytherin guys over all.”

Hermione only smiles fondly at her words. “Maybe.”

You’re doing fine. Or as fine as one could be after a publicly humiliating confession. You’re still very you, smiling at Theodore every chance you get even though you’ve told your friends (now extended to Pansy) multiple times that you were getting over him.

The only BIG difference that anyone noticed after your rejection was that you no longer attempted to get closer to Theodore. You don’t save him seats, you don’t tell him good morning, and they’d be lying if they said it wasn’t weird.

“Is this seat taken?”

You look up, eyes widening at the person in front of you and nodded. “I’m saving it for someone.” You pray to Merlin that he doesn’t hear the waver in your voice as you did so. “Is there something you needed?”

He doesn’t answer you, instead placing his book bag on your desk. You try to control the butterflies caged in your stomach, fluttering at the sight of his forearm flexing as he did so. “You’re saving it for me? Like always?”

You blink at him. “… no. I’m saving it for Blaise.”

“Huh,” he hums thoughtfully, “you’re in first name basis now?”

You move to your right when he takes his seat to your left, trying to distance yourself from him. “What do you want?”

He looks at you and your pretense of being over him crumbles all over, tumbling as he nearly knocks you off your feet just how intense his gaze is. And though you’ve always wanted his attention, for him to look at you back like he’s doing now. You can’t help but feel sick to your stomach with how much you still liked him.

“Attention is what you want, right?”

What is he playing at? “Not anymore.”

“Shame.” There’s a slight smile at your answer. “I was finally ready to give it to you.”

“He said that?” Pansy repeats your words back to you, her hand moving away from your face as she dips it back into the face mask she’d mixed up. “That’s weird.”

“That’s what I thought,” you murmur, feeling Hermione kick her feet into your lap. “I’m so confused right now.”

“Maybe he’s playing hard to get?” Hermione suggests. “Even if he is I hope he knows the only hard thing he’s getting is a rock thrown at his face.”

It’s clear that she’s taken your rejection harder than you did, grumbling at the thought of him. “A text book if he’s lucky.”

Pansy finishes up your face mask and sets the bowl down. “I told him to apologise to you, not to go and bother you," she says, frowning slightly.

“You told him to apologise?” The tone of the conversation shifts, downing just the slightest bit.

Pansy avoids your eyes as she nods, “I just wanted him to say sorry for how he treated you, you didn’t deserve that. But that fucker decided to go and do something weird, I’m sorry, lovely.”

When she’s taken up the nickname lovely for you, you don’t know. But you’re too much into your head to say anything about it. “Please don’t do that. Don’t meddle with this just because you pity me. I can handle this by myself.”

“I don’t—” Pansy pauses, realising the weight of her actions “—I’m sorry, I promise I’ll leave you be.”

You’re nodding when you tell her: “thank you.”

Trying to jot down notes does nothing to soothe your nerves, and it definitely doesn’t distract you from the fact that Theodore Nott is sitting so damn close to you. So close that your thighs were touching, and that with any small move you made, your shoulder brushes against his.

Moving your chair to the right is no use, not when he’d move his just so he’d be closer to you. You’re so close you could practically hear him breathe.

It’s when your quill slips off of your desk that you have to confront him about it. You nudge at his thigh with yours, forcing them to his left only for him to look at you curiously. “Can you move?”

“Why?” He asks instead, planting his thighs where they’d been.

“My quill fell, I need to get it.” You explain, avoiding his eyes as best as you could. His attention is not good for your heart, maybe it two weeks ago, but it definitely wasn’t now.

Theodore is uninterested and unmoving when he quipped back. “And you can’t get like this?”

Not if you didn’t want to plan your face on his lap and be so terribly close to his— yeah no. You sigh, leaning forward to tap at the person’s in front of you shoulder. “Would you mind getting my quill for me please? It’s bit hard for me to reach.”

The person in front nods and leans down to get it for you with a smile. And when they hands it to you, their finger brushing against yours, you distinctly feel Theodore press himself closer to you.

“You could’ve borrowed mine,” Theodore says lowly, eyeing you from above.

He’s slightly taller than you, even when you’re both sat. Trying to prove to him (and yourself) that you were over him, and that this close proximity did not matter to you; you strain your neck up to glare at him. “You could’ve moved.”

“Maybe,” he concurs. “And you could’ve just asked for me to get it for you.”

“Like you’d do that,” you murmur with a roll of your eyes. “For me of all people.”

“For you of all people,” he repeats.

You hate how you instinctively break away from his gaze, looking at your notes as you try to calm your beating heart. Two weeks is nearly not enough to time to get over a crush you’ve been harboring for the longest time, not when you liked him so much you didn’t bother to keep it a secret to anyone and he knows it.

He knows it and he’s using it as an advantage, for what exactly you don’t know. What you do know, is that you need to get away from Theodore Nott. Or kiss him. Whichever works.

You sigh, glancing at your hands and hope that your voice doesn’t tremble when you quietly ask him. “What are you playing at Theodore?” You’re exasperated and he can hear it, he can hear the exhaustion in your voice and he tries his best not to let it get to him. “I know Pansy told you to apologize but you’re not apologizing, you’re just making things worse.”

He doesn’t say anything, though you can still feel his eyes on you. “Excuse me, Professor,” he says suddenly, his shoulder knocking yours as he stood up, “I’m feeling a bit under the weather, would you mind letting me slip to the infirmary?”

His hands are on you, holding firmly onto your wrist as he speaks. “It’s best if I had a friend to help me.” The professor doesn’t get a chance to respond before Theodore is pulling you away from the class.

Your words are jumbled, flailing as you try to match up his pace; you’re confused and against your better judgement, you trust that he wouldn’t hurt you —even if he’d done so many times before.

He comes to a halt by a hallway, it’s quiet still; students having yet left their classes.

He looks at you, dark eyes clouding with emotion and tries to get you to look at him. Practically begging for you to give him your attention before speaking. “How am I making things worse? It’s what you wanted isn’t it?”

“It is,” you say after a minute. “It’s just— this isn’t how I wanted it.

I like you, Theodore. A lot and I’ve made it so clear so many times and you always made it clear that you didn’t like me back. I finally try to get over you and you do this? What even is this? What are you trying to get at, Theo?”

He doesn’t answer you, his hand finally releasing the grip on your wrist to rest by his side.

You scoff, noting how he falls back to his pattern of not speaking to you when you’re practically pouring your heart out to him.

“Why did never ask me out?”

Your expression is puzzled, and he knows that he needs to explain himself, for him to tell you exactly what he meant but can’t bring himself to. Not when he wants to keep his pride in check.

“I did ask you out,” you tell him slowly. “In front of everyone.”

“Exactly,” his reply is breathless as if he had been pondering over this for ages, “in front of everyone. Why didn’t you tell me you like me? Why didn’t you ask me when it’s just you and I?”

“Are you serious?” You let out a ridiculing laugh. “You never wanted to step a single foot next to me and you expected me to ask you when it’s just me and you? Are you kidding me?

Did you ever wonder why I wrote ‘attention is what I want’?”

He’s speechless. And screwed. He can sense that you’re growing agitated with him, and he hates it.

“Would it have changed anything if I had asked you out between you and I?”

His silence is loud enough for you to understand his converted answer.

“Merlin, why did you bring me out here, Theodore?”

Theodore is bad at emotions. He’s bad at feelings, he’s bad at love and everything alike. He doesn’t like you and he’s pretty sure of it. Then why does it bother him so much to know that you no longer wanted anything to do with him.

“I don’t know.”

“Of course you don’t.” You meet his eyes and he knows that this is the end, you’re done with him for good. “Out of all the boys in Hogwarts you just had to be the one I liked, huh?”

“And that’s it?” Ron ask curiously. “You’re finally getting over him?”

“Mhmm,” you hum, waving at Pansy who waved at you from the end of the dining hall, her Slytherin friends pointedly looking between you, Pansy, and Nott. “Finally am.”

Ron doesn’t need to know that despite your mind being set on getting over Nott, your stomach still did somersault every time you see him —even in your peripheral vision.

And when you smile at him, much like you did to everyone else and he doesn’t smile back at you; you feel your heart break all over again.

It’s your own fault though, falling for a mere stranger who you’d only ever spoken to in classes —all of which having been conversations about school.

“Do I get reward?”

Hermione rolls her eyes. “A reward for doing something we’ve been telling you to do for ages? You wish.”

“I’ve been wishing for something else.” The mischievous look on your face is enough to clue her in on where your mind as gone, scrunching her face as she scowls at you. “Gross.”

“Are you okay though?” Harry asks you lowly. “I know it can be hard to get over crushes.” Take him and Chang for example. “So if you need anything we’re here for you.”

“I’m okay,” you tell him. “Or at least I’ll be.”

Harry offers you a smile, as kind as always. “That’s good then.”

It’d only be weird for you to visit the Slytherin common room often (courtesy of Pansy) and for you to not run into Theodore at least once.

You’re standing outside the common room, waiting for Pansy to come and get you when the door swings open and he stands there in front of you. He’s in his pajamas, an oversized sweater pooling at his hands.

“What are you doing here?”

Though you’re also in your pajamas, you feel slightly underdressed under his eyes. Only having worn a loose T-shirt and shorts for girls night.

You want to ask him what he’s doing here but it is his house’s common room so you withheld your question to yourself. “Pansy.”

He gives you a once over before glancing back into the common room, it’s roaring with laughters; a bunch of the Slytherin boys deciding to play card games as they indulge themselves with the alcohol they bought with their father’s money.

“Let me walk you in,” he offers, already turning back into the common room; expecting for you to follow after him.

“You don’t need to—” you don’t get to finish your words when Theodore throws you a sharp look. As if he was asking you to protest him on this. You sigh, following after him.

Theodore stays a good distance away, hiding you and your bare legs from the other Slytherins. He doesn’t really have to though, most of them minding their own business until Blaise chirps up to say hi.

“Hello,” you greeted him back, waving at him. Crabbe, now noticing your interaction lets out a low whistle at the sight of you. And Theodore moves closer to you, almost possessively. “I’ll see you in the morning?”

“Mhmm,” Blaise says, humming before turning his attention back to Enzo. “Goodnight, princess.”

There’s a snicker from Goyle, smirking as he says. “You’re stealing Nott’s girl now?”

You only offer him a smile, feeling Theodore come in over closer to you as he hurries you up the stairs. There’s a thump! from behind and you knew, without seeing, that Blaise threw a pillow at the bastards face.

Theodore doesn’t try to hide his amusement when you curse a hex in Crabbe and Goyle’s way, not when Mattheo’s laughter roared across the room at your spell.

“Thank you,” you tell Theodore, and you noticed that his lips are curled; why exactly, you don’t want to know. “Goodnight, Theodore.”

You’re halfway up the stairs when he calls your name, you turn to him. “Yes?”

“Goodnight,” he says, turning on his heel to leave.

You turn back up the stairs, only to pause and look back at him once, twice; before setting off to find Pansy.

It’s two weeks later when Theodore bumps into you again, this time; quite literally. His hands are on you, stilling you so you wouldn’t fall flat on your ass.

The dance floor is crowded, but it’s to be expected when one of the most popular students at Hogwarts (read: Blaise Zabini) is throwing a birthday party.

You’re —by extension through Pansy, a friend of his which means you needed to be there or he’d be pretty (very) sad about it and pester you about it for the rest of your life.

“Woah!” Your hands lay awkwardly on his chest, trying to push him away whilst trying to balance yourself still. “Watch where you’re going.”

Theodore straightens you up, hands lingering a little too long before letting you go. “Sorry,” he murmurs, “I’m sorry.”

And though you promised yourself to let go off Theodore months ago, you can’t help but feel your heart twist at his words. Skin burning where he’d touch you mere seconds ago.

“It’s fine,” you wave him off, “just be more careful.”

“Yeah.” His tone is breathless, blinking at you slowly as if he couldn’t believe you were so close to him. “You look nice.”

You better hope so, it’s not like you spend an hour getting ready to look anything but nice. And despite your better judgment, you feel butterflies setting off in your stomach once more. But that could’ve also been caused by the mixed concoction you downed five minutes ago.

“Thank you,” you murmur. “You too, Theo.”

“Mhmm,” he hums nodding, his expression is hesitant. “Thank you,” he says, turning his head to the side and under the clubbing lights, you can easily spot the tinging redness at the top of his ears. “Do you want to get out of here?”

“What?” It’s not that you didn’t hear him, it’s that you didn’t want to hear him. Because you knew, damn well, that if he’d just repeated himself you would agree within a heartbeat.

He gulps, and repeat himself. “Do you want to get out of here?”

Maybe your heart is weak, maybe it’s the alcohol, or maybe it’s just Theodore that gets you out of there with him attached to your lips.

His hand pressing into the small of your back as you leaned against the wall, a small groan slipping from his lips when you nipped on it.

Theodore pulls back, eyes wide and roaming your face as he takes your features in; memorising the slope of your nose, the plumpness in your lips, and the apples of your cheeks as if this was the last time he’d be able to do so. And presses his lips to yours once more.

He calls out your name, a free hand reaching up to cup your jaw so you’d look at him. For you to give him the attention he so desperately wanted from you. “I’m sorry,” he says, “I know you probably hate me and I’m so sorry but give me a chance, please.”

His tone is desperate, almost begging as he did so and you wonder if he knew the impact he still had on you. He lets go of your jaw, arm wrapping around your waist, bringing you impossibly closer to him.

“Give me a chance to make it up to you,” he asks of you, mouth pressing wet kisses down your neck as he repeats himself. “Please, please, pretty girl.”

“Theo.” His kisses doesn’t stop, much less falter at your words. “Theo.”

“Mhmm?” He hums against your neck, pulling back to give you his full an undivided attention. “Yes?”

He’s a bit taken aback when you kiss him quickly, chasing your lips as you pulled back. “You have a lot to make up for.”

“I know.” The curled smile of his returns, dark eyes glinting as he looks at you. “But for now let me give you all my attention.”

— from bee: i guess reader got what she wished for at the end lol, feedbacks and reblogs are greatly appreciated!! (๑>◡<๑)

p.s this pic of mingyu is so (my) bf i love him!!

#theodore nott x y/n #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott x you #theodore nott angst #theodore nott fluff #theodore nott scenarios #theodore nott imagines #theodore nott headcanons #theodore nott fanfiction #theodore nott fanfic #🧳: my writing #Spotify

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back2bluesidex · 1 year ago

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Fool's Gold - JHS

Pairing: Idol!Hoseok X Staff!Reader

Theme: Angst, Unrequited love au

Wordcount: 865

Summary: Falling for Jung Hoseok is.. Fool's Gold.

Warnings: Angst, unrequited love, loving somebody who can't be yours. That's all.

Minors are not allowed in this blog!!

A/N: I promise I had absolutely no plan of writing this one. But Hoseok came home and made me an emotional puddle. so I had to get things off of my chest.

Your eyes find him readily across the room as if those were made to spot him in a room full of blood and flesh.

He shines.

Just as always, Jung Hoseok shines the brightest, dimming everyone’s aura completely.

Your grip on the camera goes tight as he smiles fully at Namjoon, who seems to say something pleasant in his ears.

He doesn't see you. He obviously does not. Why would he?

While he is the main focus of everyone’s attention, everyone is proud of him for showing excellence in the military just as he did in Bangtan… You are nothing more than a lowly photo and videographer. You are someone who runs behind them to document their every possible move with a stupid inanimate device in your hands.

Just as today.

There are times when you hate your job, especially because it lacks the hierarchy and authority that you would like to have in order to shut some mouths.

But on days like these… you love it.

If it’s not for the nature of your job then you would not be allowed to enter this dining room of your company to capture Hoseok and his members having dinner with some of the most important people of Hybe.

If it’s not for your job then you wouldn’t have the fortune of witnessing Hoseok being more beautiful than you can ever remember. His cheeks are fuller, lips plumper, shoulders broader, chest buffer but his eyes… His eyes carry the same kind gaze, same warmth, same twinkle that made you fall for him long ago.

Your chest tightens when he looks away from Namjoon, attempting to reply something to Jimin, and his eyes fall on your figure, awkwardly standing at the door.

Then he smiles at you.

And your world seems to start dancing in the rhythm of destruction. You feel high and low at the same time. You feel happy and sad all at once.

He still looks at you, he still smiles at you but not the way you want. And it will never be the way you want.

“Hey, Y/N! How have you been?” he chimes in. his voice sounds like honey in your ears. You find yourself smiling automatically.

“Just getting by. What about you?” You ask softly. I miss you, the forbidden words linger on the tip of your tongue but you know you can’t say it. You won’t dare to.

“Doing better than I thought. Why-” Hoseok gets cut off as one the managers start speaking.

“Okay everyone. Let’s sit straight for a moment so that Y/N can click a picture and leave. It’s getting late, she needs to wrap it up.”

And that’s your cue to leave. No matter how sugarcoated the words are, those translate to “do your work and leave. It’s not the place you belong.”

So you do as you are told.

After clicking five pictures and checking if everything’s alright, you take one last look at Hoseok only to find him smiling kindly at you.

You bow a little as you get ready to leave. You can’t even wave him goodbye without making yourself look like a desperate staff trying to throw herself at an idol. Sucking in a deep breath along with all the pain and heartbreak your unrequited love has brought forth, you leave.

You are halfway through the corridor when you hear your name being called from behind.

Fuck! It’s Hoseok.

When you turn around, he is already quite close to your form. So much so that you have to take a step back to maintain a staff-idol distance.

“Hoseok..” you mutter.

He lifts up a box, which you assume to be full of macarons.

Wiggling it in front of your face he says, “You love macarons, don’t you? I remember you gobbling these during our snack times.” he laughs a little and your heart fills with liquid emotions ready to spill out of your eyes.

“I picked some up for everyone on my way here. Take it.” he takes hold of your free hand and transfers the box into your grasp.

“Th-Thanks.” the words choke on your mouth. You feel like screaming at the top of your lungs and tell him that you love him, tell him that you have been missing him. But again, you can’t.

“No need. Enjoy the weekend.” he places his palm flat on your shoulder and sets your skin on fire, heart in erratic motion.

“Yes, you too.” you manage to voice out.

And then within a blink he is gone.

You see him running back in the room just where he belongs, as you stand there in the corridor, just where you belong.

As soon as his body disappears from your view, your eyes get blurry and tears run down your cheeks. You are, once again, aware of the difference that persists between you and Hoseok. Two of your worlds can never collide. He can never be yours even when you have been his, only his, for a long time.

You knew it all but you still let yourself fall for him and you don’t regret it.

Because falling for Jung Hoseok is.. Fool’s Gold.

Taglist:

@phenomenalgirl9 @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @sukunabitch @chimchimmarie @coffeedepressionsoup @meowstake @vonvi-blog @nochuel @chimmisbae

#bts angst #hoseok angst #jhope angst #bts x reader #hoseok x reader #jhope x reader #bts x you #hoseok x you #jhope x you #bts fanfiction #bts oneshot #bts drabble #bts imagines

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biasbuck · 4 months ago

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BiAsBuck’s ficrec Fridays

I actually did start drafting this yesterday but then my day got derailed by moustacheddie. Back again with another round of the fic I've been reading this week! You can find previous rec lists here.

27 July 2024

if you leave the light on by cloudydaisies is a post-canon fic that skips the messy bits and goes straight to a place where Buck and Eddie are free to be with each other. Though of course nothing is ever that straightforward, and here the speedbump comes in the form of an extended jeep engine light metaphor that works so beautifully. A delicious slow burn, in which Buck trusts Eddie when he says he can fix his truck and it's best to just stay with him and carpool until it's ready. Some really really lovely romance.

loves a game, wanna play? by @exhuastedpigeon have I ever seen a single episode of Love Island? No! Did that stop me enjoying the heck out of this wonderfully indulgent and fun fic. Absolutely not. In an effort to get Eddie out of his post-canon summer without Chris funk, Buck convinces him to sign up to Love Island with him. Has Eddie seen Love Island? No. Will that stop him from finding the love that's been right in front of him all along (and get a tan whilst he's at it?) Absolutely not! So funny and playful. A genuine and utter delight.

Drink in Hand by EiraLloyd a Hen POV Eddie coming out fic, with bonus Karen. In which Eddie kisses a guy at a bar and likes it:

She asks, “How bad is this going to be?”

Eddie holds out the bottle he’s carrying so she can read the label. “I brought mezcal.”

Translation: I’m having an existential crisis.

How is Hen supposed to turn him away? He brought mezcal.

so much left in store by @lesbianrobin in which Eddie is a single Dad in college, and Buck is the adhd punk kid at the back of the class, but of course he's an absolute baby whisperer. As they quickly become best friends and each other's support systems, Buck lets Eddie into a way to blow of steam...but a small disaster might accidentally lead to firefighters showing up.

all your letters in the sand (cannot heal me like your hand) by @dadbodbuck ok a sharp left turn into some hard angst here, so heed the trigger warnings and make sure you're safe when reading, this explores an on the page suicide attempt and subsequent recovery. In the wake of his mistakes and struggling with Chris' absence, Eddie's mental health rapidly declines. Buck and Tommy are there to catch him and offer a safe space to land. Not sugarcoated, this is crunchy and painful to read at times, but the love shines through, and though it's not a simple or easy journey, Eddie finds the support he needs to let professionals help him.

With a Friend in the Dark by Uncertainty_Principle and apparently I was in an angsty mood whilst fighting off this stupid cold because I also really loved this S3 post lawsuit, nobody is speaking to him, 'what if Buck found out his clots were lukemia' fic. Poor Buck just can't get the words out when he needs them, stuck in a miscommunication nightmare, and with a childhood secret about to blow up in his face. Maddie and Chim step in and soon the 118 realise just what the price is of holding on to anger. Just so much emotional whiplash. Whilst part one is complete, the follow up fic is a wip in progress now!

Maybe We're Strong by @ponyregrets finally it's time for some buddie meets The Good Place crossover fic, in which Bobby is Michael and Buck and Eddie are trying to figure out how they ended up in the good place when they've barely even lived their lives yet, Eddie's still in the army and Buck has been travelling but was thinking about maybe being a firefighter. Putting the firefam in this dynamic just works so well!

#biasbuck recs #911 fic #911 ficrec #buddie fic

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space-mermaid-writing · 8 months ago

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The Vamp and the Were [IronStrange]

Summary: Tony would mark the day he met a vampire that did not immediately jump at his throat. Just for once – that would be a nice change.

Relationship: Werewolf!Tony Stark / Vampire!Stephen Strange

Tags: hurt/comfort, idiots in love, angst, fluff

Chapter 6: Wong isn’t surprised nor concerned

Tony couldn’t believe he was here. He should avoid this place. Never come back here. Or better; burn the whole thing down.

But Tony needed answers. God, he had so many questions.

He swallowed the boiling anger and knocked on the door of the sanctum. After a few seconds, it was Wong who opened.

He looked coldly at Tony. “Are you here to kill Stephen?”

One trait Tony appreciated in the man was that he was always straight to the point. No sugarcoating involved.

“Haven’t decided yet. Not before I talk to him.”

Wong nodded, deemed his decision fair. He walked away and left the door open for Tony, who followed inside.

“Are you also a bloodsucker?” he asked the sorcerer.

“No.”

“Prove it.”

“No.”

It sounded more like he didn’t care enough to do so. It could be exactly what a vampire would say. Wasn't it convenient that magic helped mask his smell? He could be anything; vampire, demon, ghoul… okay, no ghoul. Those were pale and rather bloated. They really looked the undead part. Like zombies.

Wong reached the big staircase and turned towards him. “Look, some sorcerers are vampires, some are human. We can co-exist if we really try. But I understand that your experience with vampires in the past hasn’t been the best.”

That was probably the longest Tony had ever heard Wong talk, so he didn’t quite know what to say. But the man was right that Tony was biased in his opinion about Vampires ever since they killed his parents and kidnapped him in Afghanistan.

Wong continued talking, walking upstairs. “Stephen is sulking in the library. Please don’t damage any books should you choose to fight him.”

The nonchalant way Wong talked about it made Tony wonder if he just didn’t care or if he didn’t think that Tony could actually hurt Strange… wait, sulking?

The Were made his way to the library. He was by now used to the unnecessarily long and weird hallways of the Sanctum. The maze-like paths were different every time he walked them, but he mostly ended up at the right place – sooner or later.

Only now did he realize that the building was perfect for housing vampires. No matter the temperature outside, it was always slightly too cool inside. And the windows showed different scenery, but there was never direct sunlight pouring in.

There was so much about the doctor's behavior that only now made sense. During the day, they had only met indoors when Tony was visiting the Sanctum. And their missions were always scheduled for the nights. Sometimes in the late evening or early morning, but especially those morning meetings the sorcerer had always kept quite short.

Stephen never ate any food Tony brought. He always had a plausible excuse at hand: he had just eaten, or wasn’t hungry.

Tony had been blind not to see the clues. Blinded by his crus-… friendship.

But that friendship was based on lies.

He finally entered the library. Stephen was reading, but had noticed his arrival, for he had lowered his book and fixed his gaze on Stark. His posture was tense.

Tony stopped in front of him and crossed his arms. “So?”

“So what?” Strange didn’t move. He was perfectly still, like a statue.

“Don’t you have anything to say? Like an apology for deceiving me?”

Stephen clenched his teeth. He was sure there weren’t any words that would help his case. “I have nothing for you.”

Tony’s anger flared up. “Really? Nothing? You lied to me!” he accused the sorcerer.

“I did not. I corrected you when you called me a witch. But you never once asked me if I was a vampire.”

The Were emitted a low growl, mostly in annoyance. “That’s a technicality and you know it.”

“What do you want me to say?” Strange asked him angrily. “Sorry I didn’t tell you I was a vampire the first time I met you – Tony Stark, Vampire Hunter? You would have killed me immediately.”

“You kinda saved my life so I would have at least waited a minute or two.” At least Tony liked to think that. But fact was that regarding the undead he usually shot first and asked questions later.

He growled again and this time Stephen hissed back, suddenly on his feet with his fangs out and his eyes flaring red.

The tension in the room was palpable as they faced each other – but nobody leaped forward. Nobody attacked first.

“Why did you come here?” Stephen asked.

“I don’t know…” Tony deflated visibly, his shoulder sagged. He had already wondered about the same question. “I just…” Realizing that he wasn’t about to kill Strange, that he didn’t want to do that, he flopped on the couch and looked at the sorcerer with his big brown puppy eyes. “Why did you take the bullets for Peter?”

Stephen too sat down. Albeit a little slower, on an armchair. His posture still was anything but relaxed, but he seemed less wary than before. He interlocked his fingers.

“The same reason why I protect the world from evil. And the same reason why I saved you from that rogue vampire all those months ago: I’m a doctor. I save lives.”

Tony snorted. “Last time I checked vampires had to drink human blood in order to survive. I don’t think there’s a vegan option here.”

“Blood bags.”

“Huh?”

Stephen looked up from his hands at Tony. “I haven’t taken blood from a human in a long time. Blood bags are sufficient.”

Tony didn't seem convinced. “Where do you get them?”

The Vamp looked at him as if it was obvious. “I used to work in a hospital and I still have a lot of connections.”

Tony stored that information away for later. The finger of both of his hands touched at their tips, his gaze fixed on them without really seeing them.

Nobody said anything. They both weren’t entirely sure where they stood with each other.

Finally, the Were sighed and rolled his shoulders. “Can I have a coffee?”

It made Stephen relax visibly - even if his posture still remained all proper - because he realized that if Tony asked for a drink, things would turn out okay.

“Of course.”

With a motion of his hand, Tony’s favorite mug appeared on the small table. Gratefully, the Were reached for it.

He still had a lot of questions. Like when did Strange get turned? According to reports, it was a painful and unpleasant procedure. Did he undergo it voluntarily?

Most Vamps did not – who would want to be a monst-… hunted by the government and society?

How had he achieved such good self-control?

And, “Does that mean you finally start eating in front of me? Or more like drinking. I was starting to think you had some kind of eating disorder. Not that I would judge that…”

Stephen's eyebrow wandered up. How could someone undead act so alive in his facial expressions?

“What I’m saying is,” Tony continued, “I wouldn’t mind if you drink your juice boxes in front of me.”

“They are not juice boxes,” the Vamp insisted.

“They are if you stick a straw in them.”

Stephen looked like he wanted to strangle him.

But he didn’t. He was perfectly in control. Probably more than some Weres Tony knew. Actually, he could never imagine Stephen attacking him.

___________

Tony: "I could never imagine Stephen attacking him." Me, the author of this story: "Yeah, well…about that…"

Tag list: @jekyllhydetrash @goopierthenyou Tell me if you wanna be added/removed

#ironstrange #doctor strange #tony stark #Vampire Stephen Strange #Werewolf Tony Stark #stephen strange #marvel #mcu #strangeiron #The Vamp and the Were #spacemermaid writes

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ashiemochi · 2 years ago

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anubussy - xii (ii)

✠ Anubussy ↳ sorry, i don't want your touch ↳↳ it's not that i don't want you

➶ pairing: OC x Leon S(exy) Kennedy. ➶ genre: fluff, more angst, gore, longer smut/suggestive themes ➶ word count: no

NOTE: ✠ = time skip ✠✠ = switching povs/characters

Rose Guidry belongs to @the-resident-vampire!!

prev -> next

Speeches time was – if not – the one thing So Ah was worried about; and not in a bad way. She really didn’t want to test the limits of her mascara.

Chris, surprisingly, had a speech prepared but he didn’t write it down. He started out simple and lighthearted, ending it with a little inside joke. The guests laughed but those who knew shared looks whilst muffling their snickers.

“First, I’d like to congratulate my two dear friends – actually, only one. I don’t know about Leon, he smells weird. I’m only kidding. Congratulations you two. The venue is really beautiful and judging from the plants and the artistic themes, I think we all know who did most of the decor choices. Lastly, Leon, hope you’re ready for the chase of your life. Cheers.”

Then was ChoHee who actually brought a small piece of paper with her. Her speech was a bit longer but sweet to the newlyweds. Of course, a best friend wasn’t a best friend without some playful jokes.

“I’m surprised So Ah got to marry first – and now I owe her dinner at Congdu. I remember the first time she told me about Leon, and something in me knew that she was already head over heels for him. When I met him, I just thought to myself ‘it’s gotta be that goddamn hair’. I love you, So Ah. Sharing my bento with you was the best decision I’ve ever made. And Leon, take care of her or I’m getting the scissors. Cheers!”

Michael went third and Jaehyun instantly gave So Ah a good luck look, reminding her that their dad truly had not a single emotion in his bone. He was always the stoic kind and straight to business. Sugarcoating was not his forte.

“Thank you all for attending my daughter’s and my now son-in-law’s wedding. As some of you may know about the incident several years ago, he was the one who kept her safe throughout it all. My family’s safety was my top priority too, so it felt good to see that he thought the same. If it weren’t for him, I wouldn’t know what I would’ve done if something were to have happened to my dear So Ah. So, congratulations and welcome to the family, Leon Kennedy.”

Okay, Jaehyun looked surprised, earning a faint giggle from the bride at his face. Leon had nudged So Ah’s shoulder with his, grinning as he gently tapped his wine glass with hers.

Lastly was Sena. How So Ah felt after she was done didn’t need to be said.

“This might be a little long, so please, forgive me – but I’m not truly sorry. It seems like yesterday where So Ah was just a little girl drawing how she’d wish her wedding to be with her little Prince Charming. And now, it’s all come true because Leon’s here to treat her like the princess she is.”

“You have no idea how utterly proud I am of you for being so strong and so kind – and know that Minji would’ve been just as proud, if not more. I only wish I would’ve been there for you more when you were young as I feel I have missed watching you grow into the woman you are right now. To my eyes, you’ll always be my baby. My sweet little Soo. Here’s to Leon and So Ah, wishing nothing but the most beautiful days for you two.”

Leon comforted So Ah when she started crying a little, rubbing her back and tugging her close to kiss her temple.

And that concluded the speeches.

✠

It was time for their first dance – So Ah was about to vomit as Leon was fixing his suit whilst the DJ started the next song.

“I don’t think I can dance, Leon.” She whispered to him, catching his attention, “It’s difficult with the heels on.”

Leon glanced down then at her, pushing his chair back “So, take them off.”

Her eyes widened a bit, clearly shocked, “What?”

“It’s not like anyone would notice with your dress being that long.” Leon pointed out with a chuckle.

Her blush was soft as she rubbed her arm, admitting, “I never really learned how to slow dance.”

A gentle smile reached his lips as he stood up, offering his hand, “Just follow my lead.”

She set her hand on his and Leon caught her legs shuffling a bit underneath her dress. When she stood up, she was noticeably shorter before she got on her tiptoes to make it seem she was still wearing them. God was she too endearing.

The lights had dimmed down, leaving the soft glow only on the dance floor when he led her to the centre of it. The floors felt cold beneath her toes but it slipped her mind when Leon stood in front of her.

With the hand he was leading her, he put it on his shoulder before grabbing her other. His free hand went to her waist, slowly moving her and himself to the melodic song. With his azures on her, hers were on the ground at his feet.

Faint gasps would escape through her parted lips when she’d accidentally misstep, earning a small laugh from her husband. Leon tugged her close, his hand sliding down to the small of her back whilst caressing her other hand to calm her down.

“What’s wrong?” He asked lowly, his lips brushing her forehead as he spoke.

“I don’t want to mess this up…” She answered, swallowing thickly when she let her eyes dart to the guests, “They’re all watching.”

“Let them watch. You?” Leon released her waist to tilt her chin up with his two fingers, gazing into her eyes, “Keep your eyes on me. Watch me.”

With the lights dimmed, it was only them in the room.

This all felt like one big dream. Leon never truly thought he’d find someone to settle down with. Chasing after a woman on the run for years was draining him. On any other day, he would’ve enjoyed the chase but with no end game, it bugged him. With the endless assignments from his division to the constant paranoia about any sudden outbreaks, he fully believed that was his whole life.

But then he saw her.

A certain sunny day in August was all it took to weaken his walls. It was still fresh in his memory, seeing her standing on her lawn with her potted plant and an anxious but excited smile on her face.

A couple of days later, he counted the constellation of stars adorning her cheeks and nose bridge ever so faintly. Under the pale lights of that neighbourhood, his heart was stolen before he could even realize it.

It took months to break his walls down but honestly, maybe they were already crumbling for her. Days and days later, she entered his bubble, soaked to the bone from the rain storm. It was unintentional, but since then, Leon was more than willing to pull her soso close till there was no space in between.

He was in denial for the longest time, filled with guilt of lost opportunities when she slipped through his fingers into the endless void. Seeing her again spread something hot throughout his chest. Kissing her for the first time was forever embedded into his core memory.

The girl he met on that day was finally his, and his only. He was never planning on letting that go.

The Han brother narrowed his eyes a little at the dancing couple before leaning towards his tearful mother, muttering, “Is it just me or did she get shorter?”

Sena blinked at him from behind her napkin, looking back at So Ah. She was clearly shorter than her previous height.

“That girl,” She groaned, shaking her head, “She must’ve taken off her heels again.”

Jaehyun snickered, taking a sip of his wine with a subtle shrug, “She never liked them anyway.”

“It’s fine, my dear.” Michael grasped Sena’s hand, patting it gently with a tender look, “She still looks like our pretty little angel.

Jaehyun tore his eyes away from his parents and to his side at the empty chair. Despite it being a long while since she was gone, the Hans couldn’t help but reserve an extra chair. It was where Minji was supposed to sit.

A sad smile reached his lips, his heart hurting at the realization that she wasn’t around to witness the wedding. Without his eldest sister around, who he was supposed to make jokes to about the event?

He could only pray and hope that she was in a much better place – but in his own selfish ways, he preferred her with the family.

Back to the main show, So Ah gazed up at Leon with such adoration that her pupils would’ve dilated into hearts and comical pink bubbly hearts popped above her head.

Leon grinned down at her, releasing her hand to set it on her waist. With both hands, he lifted her up, twirling them around. A gasp of surprise emitted from her when her feet were no longer touching the ground. Her hands shot to his shoulders, giggling childishly at being up in the air.

By the time he set her down, the song had ended and Leon pulled her close to kiss her deeply – distracting her from the applause from the guests.

Piers grumbled, giving Chris twenty dollars reluctantly, “I didn’t know he’d be that extra.”

Chris took the money with a tilted smile, “It’s his wedding, what did you expect?”

So Ah pulled away from the kiss with a soft smile, “I love you.”

“I love you too.” Leon returned the smile, brushing her strand of hair behind her ear.

“You surprised me.”

“With that spin at the end?”

“Yeah, but the music too,” She giggled, “I didn’t know you knew some slow songs. I fully assumed Backstreet Boys or something.”

Leon shrugged with a tick of his head, a cheeky grin coming to his lips as he nodded at the DJ, “Well…”

So Ah blinked at the new but familiar music playing, giving Leon an incredulous look, “You didn’t.”

Backstreet’s back, alright!

Leon tugged her close, winking at her as several guests got out of their seats to join the dance floor, “Oh, but I did.”

✠

“Hey, Leon! So Ah!”

Leon looked away from his wife who was tugging and fixing the plants on their table where the eaten cake was. She followed suit, turning to find Chris approaching them with a gorgeous girl in hand.

“I’d like you to meet someone. This is Rose.” Chris introduced the girl who already had a gentle smile on her lips.

Her brown hair was neatly curled and pulled over to her shoulder. The dress she wore was a pretty lilac colour with low and sheer sleeves, ending on a sweetheart neckline. It was long, draping over her form just perfectly.

“Nice to meet you.” Leon shook her hand with a kind smile.

So Ah went second, a timid look on her face as she was always shy about meeting new people, “Hi, it’s nice to meet you.”

Her eyes snapped to the gorgeous silver ring around her finger with a beautiful green gem in the middle. It took her mind a couple of seconds when she connected the dots, finding a similar ring band on Chris’ finger.

“It’s nice to meet both of you too, finally.” Rose nudged Chris’ side playfully, “He rarely lets me meet his friends.”

So Ah and Leon shared a look, knowing the other have noticed the rings.

“I let you meet my friends,” Chris defended, “Just not these kinds of friends.”

Rose rolled her eyes, a faint smile on her face as she spoke, “He thinks it’ll keep me safe or whatnot – as if I don’t know what you do for a living.”

“The further away you are from this part of the world, the better.” Chris wrapped an arm around her waist with a tender look on his face.

“Say,” Leon cleared his throat, nodding his head at their hands, “Is there something you’re not telling us?”

The couple looked down at their rings in unison then at each other before Chris piped up, “We all gotta tie the knot in the end.”

“No way!” So Ah gasped, surprised, “When did you even do the wedding?!”

Chris barely shrugged, “Back in 2009. It was a small wedding within the family – we didn’t want it too big.”

His wife snorted, “Small wedding.”

He was never the kind to talk much about his personal life, so it didn’t come much of a shock to know that he was married. The fact he never showed it, even for just a second on any day, was what surprised her the most.

Rose showed her ring with a grin, “Goodbye, Rose Guidry and hello, Rose Redfield”

Another alarm rang in the Han girl’s head. She heard that name before; Guidry. It rang numerous bells at the memory. It was only one day when she was young – she had long forgotten about it.

“Wait… Guidry?” So Ah took a step forward, realization slowly washing over her, “We’ve met before, didn’t we?”

“Yeah, we did.” Rose answered, nodding as she laughed, “I was wondering when you were going to remember me.”

Leon furrowed his brows, “You two know each other?”

“Yeah!” So Ah beamed at the memory, “My parents initially wanted me to study in, uh… What was it called?” She turned to Rose for help.

“Georgetown University,” The girl added, “It’s in DC.”

“That’s it! My parents changed their mind and took me back to Seoul.” So Ah snapped her finger before letting out a happy sigh, “It’s been so long!”

“It’s a very beautiful university. It honestly made me a bit sad when you left.” Rose commented with a subtle pout, “What changed their mind? Should I have shown them around too?”

“Well…” So Ah trailed away with a nervous giggle, darting her eyes to Chris for a split second who only shook his head.

Okay, right.

“It was a family emergency, nothing serious.” She resorted to saying, hiding every single thing that had gone wrong.

Chris didn’t want Rose to be involved with the BOWs? Then he got it.

“Ah, well, it would’ve been fun.” Rose smiled, “I think you would’ve really liked it there – I could’ve shown you around town too!”

“Maybe next time,” So Ah laughed before leaning against Leon, earning a tilted grin and an arm around her waist, “We’ve got a trip planned in a few days and then it’s back to work.”

Rose blinked, “Oh? Where are you going?”

“Hawaii.” Leon answered, sighing as if exhausted, “Not by choice but she always wanted to visit it, so…”

“Hey! You came to me all excited first!”

“No, I didn’t.” Leon pinched her side playfully.

Chris gave Rose a knowing look, “Told you they’re like children.”

“I think it’s endearing!” Rose shot back and she faced So Ah, “We spent our honeymoon in this gorgeous cabin in Montana and he was in charge of chopping wood. Every day, I’d hear him whining about splinters. Every. Day.”

“I never whined. I was complaining.” Chris corrected.

“Should’ve worn gloves.”

“I did.”

“Fingerless ones don’t do crap.”

So Ah gasped faintly, “That’s what I always tell Leon!”

As the two girls laughed, Chris and Leon looked at each other, almost exasperatedly.

Chris sighed, his hand going to Rose’, “We’ll leave you two to your cake. I believe my wife owes me a dance.”

So Ah giggled, “It was nice to meet you again!”

“It was!” Rose exclaimed as Chris began pulling her away, “Congratulations on the beautiful wedding, by the way!”

Leon hummed as his wife waved at the woman, turning to So Ah, “I can’t decide whether I’ve met her before or maybe I’m a bit too tipsy.”

“Well, did you ever go to that uni?” So Ah asked, going back to pick up her drink from the table.

Leon thought about it, leaning one hand on the table with furrowed brows, “Maybe. I’ve been to a lot of places – but mostly for the DSO.”

So Ah blinked at him as she took a sip and he sighed, shaking his head and looking at the cake. With one finger, he scooped some of the whipped cream up and mindlessly stuck it into his mouth. All while she couldn’t tear her eyes away from the gesture.

It was strangely enticing.

“Mmh, best dessert.” Leon smacked his lips with a smirk easing into his lips, having noticed her gaze, “Right after you.”

Her cheeks turned rosier, heat filling up her chest and lower stomach before she smacked his arm.

“Leon, behave!”

“Fine, I’ll save it till tonight.”

✠

A blur of red went past her peripheral vision, freezing the bride in her spot. The words from one of her family members went deaf to her ears, eyes finding Leon looking at her. He too saw the colour. While many of the guests could be wearing red, something about that shade was raising suspicions.

“And then–”

“Excuse me,” So Ah interrupted with a polite smile, “Just for a moment.”

Picking up her dress, she basically skipped out of the venue – which was massive. She was vaguely aware of Leon following her as she stood out in the hallway, turning her head left and right. Again, she saw something red turn the corner and she followed it. The shining clean floors felt cold under her feet, having left her heels behind once again.

The breeze along with the calming scent of the garden surrounded her, grass tickling her skin once she stopped.

So Ah breathed softly, her eyes widening slightly at the woman in front of her, “Ada?”

There she stood; the infamous lady in the red dress. The dark wine maxi gown would’ve made her stand out had she mingled with the guests. It featured a halter neckline with the side and back exposed, held up by thin straps.

Of course, an Ada dress wasn’t an Ada dress without the long side split reaching her upper thighs.

A tilted smile appeared across her redred lips, “Beautiful dress, Han – or should I say, Mrs Kennedy?”

The Han girl giggled bashfully, “Well… Still a Han if we’re talking about this country’s laws.”

Similarly to her parents, Sena didn’t change her surname and kept it Kim when she married Han Michael. Besides, it saved a lot of time with changing documents.

Did So Ah have the choice to change her surname? Yeah.

But was she?

“Still,” Ada gave her a knowing look, “Feels freeing from Han, doesn’t it?”

She did think about it. Having spent most of her life in her home country, it was a little difficult to come to a decision.

Leon jogged to a stop beside So Ah, brows already knitting in the middle, confused, “Ada? What are you doing here?”

Ada pulled out an invitation card from the pouch she had hidden under her dress’ split with a subtle pout, “I got invited though I’m feeling a bit sad to have missed the main event.”

Her sultry eyes turned to Leon’s, “Nice spinning at the end there.”

Leon scoffed, opening his mouth to retort but So Ah butted in, “Can you say longer? I’d love it if you could.”

Ada hummed thoughtfully, eyeing the fancy card and flipping it with her two fingers. It was clear she had already made her choice.

“Hm, sorry, Han – I would but I’m on a tight schedule.”

“Nothing that involves BOWs I hope?” Leon raised a brow, folding his arms against his chest.

He earned a chuckle but she didn’t answer. A rumbling sound seemed to grow louder and nearer and So Ah gasped under her breath at the helicopter showing up. She brought up her arm to shield her face from the rushing wind, feeling a hand press against the small of her back when she stumbled.

A ladder dropped down, swinging next to Ada and she grabbed onto it, climbing the first step. Leon narrowed his eyes at her under the wind.

“I’ve left a little gift in your room! I think you’ll love it,” Ada called out over the sound of the propellers, a sly grin on her lips, “See you around, you two!”

The helicopter went higher and away, leaving them behind. So Ah lowered her arm, staring up at the distant helicopter with a subtle not surprised tick of her head.

“She never changes, does she?” Leon shook his head with a huff.

“It would’ve been weird if she actually stayed.” The girl added.

They laughed together at that. So Ah trailed her eyes up at Leon with a curious look and he returned it.

✠

The door to her room burst wide open, revealing a panting married couple. Right on the vanity was a small gift box with royal red wrapping and next to it was a potted plant with a similar coloured bow wrapped around it.

So Ah walked up to her vanity first, gazing at the plant and picking it up gently to observe it up close. The smell of the fresh bunch of leaves eased her up. A certain memory made its way to her head, making her giggle at the small card attached to it; Leon.

“It’s for you.” She offered it to Leon who instantly recognized the plant, rolling his eyes.

“When is anyone gonna listen to me?” He grumbled, taking the potted Fittonia though his blues grew soft, “I’m not a plant person – especially for this dramatic kind.”

So Ah patted his shoulder with a giggle, “It’s the gesture that matters, Leon.”

She returned her attention to the box, carefully untying it as Leon stared at the plant with a suspicious look on his face. Once the wrapping fell off, she opened the lid and her eyes widened, freezing.

Leon noticed her tensing, looking at her then he darted his eyes down, “What is it?”

He set the plant aside when she reached inside to pull out the picture. It was taken at the Watergate Hotel gala; after six months of being apart.

Her heart melted at how young both of them looked, standing next to each other for the photo. Leon had his arm around her waist, settling his hand on her hip with his usual cheeky smirk. The girl was leaning towards him with a softer smile, her cheeks tinted red at the close proximity and her hands holding onto a single lilac anemone.

Back then, Leon not-so-sneakily took the flower out of the many assorted bouquets around and gave it to her.

A faint giggle emitted through her lips, truly thinking this photograph was long gone. Leon couldn’t help but smile, wrapping his arms around her torso from behind His lips brushed the crown of her head. A gentle kiss.

“Maybe not all her gifts are strange.” Leon mumbled against her hair, his smile widening when he felt her lean against him and he moved his head so it was resting next to hers.

“Maybe.” She repeated as she reached for his arm to grasp onto him, flipping the picture around to see the writing on the back.

Transparency leads to intimacy in marriage, don’t you agree? X

In an instant, her whole body stilled and the picture almost slipped from her fingers. The tracker within her nape blinked at the indirect mention, sending her skin crawling with goosebumps.

Leon leaned down a bit to read the text, scoffing in disbelief, “Yep. Never changes. Always so vague.”

She chuckled at that, setting the picture down as a feeble attempt to calm her nerves. There was barely a thing that can be hidden from Ada. She had sources anywhere and from anyone – of course, she knew about the chip.

So Ah may not trust her that much because really, you can never trust a Wong, but she trusted her enough to not say a word. Judging from the little message she left behind, she was leaving it up to the Han girl to clean up her own mess.

She turned around to face Leon, hands reaching up to fix his tie, “Mhm, she’s as mysterious as one can get.”

Leon’s lips twitched, gazing down at her, “Penny for your thoughts?”

She blinked, looking up at him and smiled softly, “Just you, only you.”

Her hand felt delicate on his cheek and he found himself leaning against it, grasping her hand to keep it there. A lovelove glint was in his azures, making them seem bluer.

“Funny, I can tell you what’s on my mind, but it’s better if I show it.” His voice dropped a tone, nodding his head at the circular beige couch.

Heat rushed to her cheeks as she grew flustered, catching on. Instead, she tilted her head to the side, “Uhm, I think it’s better if I show you later at home.”

It was his turn to be intrigued, asking, “Show me what?”

“What’s under this dress,” She mumbled, dusting away invisible dirt off of his blazer whilst attempting to be seductive, "You know how Minx's Body is."

His eyes boggled open, already darting down to her gown as if he'd see what was underneath. With her dress being off-shoulder, the only thing he could assume was that whatever was under didn't have straps.

A low groan came from him, narrowing his eyes a bit at her teasing, "Jesus Christ, sweetheart."

She laughed shyly under his intense gaze, glancing over at the clock on her vanity, "Only two more hours left."

Leon let out an exasperated grumble, "Could just send them home now–"

"Leon!" So Ah gasped, interrupting him but he continued.

"So I could have my way with you."

Did he have to be so blunt about it?

He wasn't even trying to be seductive but it was just tempting at this point. Still, she stood her ground.

"We won't end the reception early just because you're too excited to go home." She practically scolded, making him shrug lazily with an equally lazy smirk.

"Can't help it," His hands went down to her waist, pulling her close with his lips barely brushing hers, "You look goddamn stunning, did I ever tell you that?"

Her blushing intensified, her heart rattling at his not-so-subtle enticing ministration. A loving and timid smile reached her lips.

"Maybe like ten times." She whispered, wrapping her arms around his neck.

He chuckled lowly, nose bumping against hers as he maintained eye contact, "I'll keep saying it ten more times then."

Okay, he knew what he was doing. So Ah reluctantly pulled herself away from his arms, holding his hand instead when he reached out to her with a surprised look on his face.

"Later, Leon." She reminded, leading him out of the room before she'd do something that would embarrass her forever.

Leon scoffed light-heartedly, firming up his grasp on her hand, "You're gonna drive me crazy."

"Well, better get used to it." She cheekily shot back, looking at him over her shoulder, "We're married now."

Leon smiled toothily at this, "Yeah, we are."

He sped up to be next to her, pulling her hand up to plant a kiss on the ring. Her whole soul melted at the intimacy and the love in his blueblue eyes when he finished.

"Best decision of my life."

#canon x oc #oc x canon #resident evil fanfiction #resident evil vendetta #leon s kennedy #resident evil #leon kennedy #resident evil fandom #leon kennedy imagines #leon kennedy fanfic #leon scott kennedy #leon scott kennedy smut #oc x leon kennedy

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extravaguk · 4 years ago

Text

pairing: jungkook x reader

summary: But above all things, the last thing you expected to happen when you came back was to show your tits and get pierced by none other than motherfucking Jeon Jungkook.

Jeon Jungkook. Guk. Gukkie. Jeongukkie.

wordcount: 15k

genre: summer!au, ex high school classmaters, kinda frenemies to lovers, tattoo artist!&piercing artist!jungkook, popular!reader

rated: m (fluff - smut - angst)

warnings: you broke jungkook's heart you bitch!! , oral sex (m&f), protected sex (shocking tbh), CL as your bestie it doesnt get better than that! idk i dont wanna spoil too much

author's note: fucking finally dude!! i've been writing this since february but school was kicking my ass. now that i finished my exams and mercury is in gemini i was able to finish it. if you read this, i hope you enjoy it!

Inkphoria

You've been standing outside the shop re-reading the word for fifteen minutes, although it definitely feels like it has been longer. You're gripping the flyer too tightly, rumpling the paper in your hand until you're pretty much sure it's ruined. It's the first day of June, and it's already too hot. The sun and humid weather are causing beads of sweat to form in your hairline and your white tank top to stick to your skin. Your jean shorts didn't feel this uncomfortable a few hours ago and you're sure the heat is causing your mascara to transfer to your eyelids and lower lashline. You've never needed a slushie and a smoke this bad in forever, even if you knew the later would make your parents lose their shit.

Inkphoria

You read it again. Your brain is trying to guess what font its written in, an excuse to try to steady your heart beat until your nerves ease a little and you can finally gather the courage to step into the damn shop. You've noticed a few people passing by giving you strange looks because maybe it hasn't been fifteen minutes. Perhaps you've been unmoving like an idiot in the middle of the street for longer than you want to admit.

Chaelin's voice echoes inside your head.

'Its not that much of a big deal. It's not even that painful, trust me.'

You wish you could trust your best friend, but your best friend is also the same woman who assured you Cats was the movie of the year. Yes, not 'Cats: The Musical'. 'Cats', the movie.

'And this could be a great start to get out of your comfort zone and start living your life exactly the way you want to, not the way people expect you to. Not the way your family wants you to, not the way Adam wanted you to.'

But although her credibility could sometimes be questionable - like that time she also told you she'd tried marmite and 'honestly, it's not as bad as people make it out to be'-, you also didn't trust anybody in this world as much as you trusted her. She had always been your entire support system, the only one around you who never sugarcoated, who always treated you as an equal, who was always there for you to help you discover yourself and, at the same time, remind you of who you were.

'And it's gonna look so hot, too.'

That's it. Sticking the wrinkled flyer on your back pocket, your feet finally start moving. It doesn't take longer than three strides and you're pushing open the door.

The first thing you notice is that, thankfully, the shop is empty. The second thing you notice is the bright sky blue walls, a green undertone peaking through. Your eyes scan nervously the interior. Frames with tattoo designs and people modeling other different designs decorate the walls, some skateboards also hanging from the ceiling. A few plants in the corner, and two leather couches on either side of the room. Your scanning stops on the counter, where a girl with short, platinium hair and -what you guess is- the eighty percent of her body inked. Face included. She's been looking at you, a smirk tugging at her lips. Her tone is amused when she speaks

"Hi." she says. "You can come closer, you know? We don't bite."

Great. As if you couldn't feel more out of place, apparently you also couldn't look more out of place.

"Sorry." you gulp as you walk forward. "It's my first time doing anything like this."

She laughs this time, but it's not mean. It's not mocking, thank God, and the smile she sends you is as warm as the weather, friendly, luckily helping you calm down a bit. "A virgin, huh? JK's gonna love this." your eyes jump in surprise, but she's fast to wave her hands in front of you. "Just a joke. So, first time getting a tattoo. You have something in mind, honey?"

"Um, no. Not a tattoo. Not yet, I think." you wet your lips, regretting not reaplying chapstick before stepping inside. "A piercing."

"Oh! Cool!" she claps her hands, too excited for your own taste, pulling from under the counter a catalogue. "So, where will it be? Cartilogue? Nose? A lot of people are getting their septums pierced right now, though, so you might-"

"Nipples. Like, one of them."

Her gaze finds yours in surprise, although her face swiftly transforms again into an amiable expression. "Now, that's badass. Alright!" she skims through the pages of the catalogue until she finds the nipple piercing collection. You scratch your head before wiping your forehead sweat-free. "You can pick either barbells or hoops, although barbells heal faster and they don't move around as much. There's different kinds of metal, too. Gold or platinium. If your skin is sensitive, I recommend titanium. It's hypoallergenic and not as problematic."

The blonde keeps talking as you nod your head, a smile making its way into your face while silently thanking her for her easygoing personality. It quickly makes you feel comfortable and stupid for being so terrified of doing this.

Once you decide, settle on the cost and sign the papers, she stands up from the stool she'd been sitting on. "Ok, I'll go tell my coworker. He's been sketching tattoos all morning, it's time he gets to work!" she laughs, but suddenly your smile banishes and your throat shuts down.

"He?" your alarmed tone halts her motions and she looks back at your frightened expression.

He? A he is going to pierce your nipple? You're about to let a random stranger, a HE, see and touch one of your boobs and then pierce a needle through one of your nipples?

"Oh, baby, don't worry. I'd do it myself if I knew how to, but I only do tattoos. Most of our staff are on summer vacation so it's mostly just him and I. If you don't feel comfortable, which is totally understandable, you can wait until september when Minzy comes back and she can do it for you." It's her turn to scratch the back of her head as she adds: "but trust me, we're professionals. He's not a creep or anything like that. He's been doing this for a long time. He won't cross any boundaries."

September? You won't even be here in september. Fuck.

Sure, you could do it when you move back into the city. But this summer was supossed to be the summer. You already decided after your breakup with Adam that there would be no trace of the old you. That it was time to push yourself, to do the things that you've always wanted to do, unapologetically. To find the new you, the real you. To stop being scared.

So after going through you options for a few seconds and taking a deep breath, you make up your mind.

"It's fine. I can do it."

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"JK, sweetheart!"

Jungkook is finishing drawing a Chinese dragon when Mijoo opens the door without knocking. Again. He puts the pen down, rubbing his eyes. It's monday, a slow monday, not much work, and he had hoped it would stay that way until closing time. It's summer and Jungkook hates summer. He hates the heat, he hates being drenched in sweat, and he hates the fact that he can do nothing about it. Because working in the summer is terrible. Summer makes him lazy, makes him want to bathe in a tub full of iced water and not get out until he turns into a raisin and october comes. It makes him irritable. Summer makes him annoyed by people -like Mijoo, even if he loves her to death- and himself.

"I got a girl here who wants a nipple piercing, her first piercing by the way, so get your shit ready and bla bla bla. Straight titanium barbell. Also, don't flirt and don't be creepy. She almost ran away when I told her a male was going to be touching and piercing her tit, be mindful of that. She's too cute, if you want to get her number you should wait until it's done. I think that's it. I'll bring her in in a minute."

Mijoo leaves as fast as she talks, but Jungkook is already used to it. He's already used to the headaches her mouth causes too. He sighs before standing up, tying his too-long raven hair into the best bun he can manage. He washes his hands, sets the table up, sits on the chair and puts the gloves on. He's too busy sterilizing the jewerly when Mijoo comes back with you.

"Alright, my babies. I'll leave you to it." she turns to you. "He'll explain everything, from how the process will be to how to take care of it after it's done." she leaves before saying bye, closing the door behind her, and then he finally turns to you.

Your eyes meet and suddenly everything stops. He almost drops the sterilizing machine, his whole body tensing, going into panic mode as he recognizes you immediatly. His hands shake.

Of course he does. Of course he recognizes his high school crush. The too goody two shoes, too pretentious and too rich, too good for everybody and, most importantly, 'too good for Jeon Jungkook' girl of his high school dreams. Of course he recognizes the girl he had confessed his stupid crush to when he was sixteen. Of course he recognizes the girl who rejected and broke his young and foolish heart when he was a dumb teenager.

It doesn't matter that six years have passed ever since. He still knows every lock of your hair like the palm of his hand. He still remembers the shape of your lips and the exact shade of your eyes. He can still identify the body he fantasized about -and jacked off to- when he was a hormonal teen, now filled in all the right places. Now a grown woman.

Just one look at you after years and years of pining is enough to almost make him faint. And grow a boner under his jeans.

And by the look on your face, your eyes wide and your mouth agape, you recognize him as well.

Dammit.

He schools his features and clears his throat. Forces his body to relax and compose himself, because he's not a teenager anymore. He's also a grown man, who has matured, who now has much more experience with women than he did back then. He had already embarrased himself enough when he was sixteen to be doing it all over again. You're just another attractive girl in a sea of attractive women.

He turns to you. You still haven't said anything. Neither has he.

"Um, you can sit on the table." he manages, motioning to the set up in front of him. He watches you taking doubtful steps until you're sitting down, your eyes avoiding his gaze. He almost forgot you were here to get pierced. Holy shit, you were here to get pierced. To get your nipple pierced.

You're a professional, Jungkook. You can do this, Jungkook. You've seen boobs before, Jungkook. You've pierced nipples before, Jungkook.

Clearing his throat again and forcing his hands to stay by his side, he speaks. "The... The top." your gaze finds his, like a puppy about to get scolded. You look at your top, realization dawning on you. "You don't have to take it off. You can just pull it down."

So you do, pulling the straps of the white tank top down and dragging the fabric down with trembling fingers. No bra. Jungkook gulps as your breasts comes into vision. As perfect as he had imagined years ago. His cock twitches. Round, full, perky and so damn inviting he has to hold himself back from latching onto one nipple with his mouth around it and swirling his tongue over the nub until you're a pretty, moaning, little mess on his piercing tabl-

He closes his eyes for just a second before reminding himself to act like the 23 year old Jungkook he's tried so hard to become. The confident, assured Jungkook he is.

"Okay, this is how it'll go. First I'll clean it and scrub it to get rid of any bacteria." he's so glad he hasn't stuttered yet. 23 year old Jungkook doesn't stutter like 17 year old Jungkook. He's also glad he can pick the alcohol bottle and the surgical scrub without trembling. When he faces you again, you're watching his motions with your lip caught between your teeth. That has him swallowing the lump in his throat.

Making eye contact with him again, you take a deep breath and offer a small nod, so he gets to work. He can show you and himself he's a grown man. A grown man who can pierce a nipple without appearing like it's the first time he's seen a boob in his life. The sooner he does it, the sooner it's over.

Jungkook wets the paper towel with alcohol before carefully wiping over your nub with it. Your back arches, probably from the cold feeling, he guesses. He rubs it a few times before throwing it in the trash can nearby. He avoids looking at how enticing the soft peak is salluting him when he reaches for the marker. He doesn't say anything when he dots it with it, jaw clenched and his dick painfully stiff.

"Lay back." his voice low as he commands, turning away to get the clamp. When he slides closer, he tries to ignore the view: you, with your hair sprawled and your sweaty, shiny skin and your eyes focused on the cieling, nipple fully erect, like the star of one of his most erotic dreams. He extends his free gloved hand before he can stop himself, fingers carefully working the nub until he's sure it's painfully hard. Almost as hard as he is.

You gasp, your back arching again. He stills and looks at you, your cheeks flushed pink. Probably from the heat, he guesses again. Or at least that's what he tells himself. He can't stop himself from wondering how responsive would you be in a different setting, most likely his bed while his teeth play with your breast and his cock dives into-

"You okay?" he studies your face, your eyes not meeting his and instead still focusing on the white ceiling.

"Mhm." you reply with a small voice.

"Relax, alright? It'll be over soon." his voice is as gentle as he can, his fingers mindlessly caressing your breast to try to soothe your nerves. Or maybe it's just because he's a selfish bastard. Whatever it is, he forces himself to bring the clamp to your nipple, securing it around it.

"Take a few deep breaths. This will only take a second of pain and then it will go away." He misses the way your mouth falls open, but he doesn't miss the way your eyes squeeze tight as the needle goes in.

"Ah!" he definitely doesn't miss that either. He goes rigid for a second, because that didn't fucking sound like a cry of painfulness. It's breathy, and whiny, not too loud and, for fucks sake, if that's how you sound when you're getting fucked, he swears to God-

He feels your heartbeat under his hands when he puts the barbell in and then the bandage over it. He takes a look at you, chest moving up and down. And then you take a look at him and what he sees is almost enough to take you right there.

Reddened cheeks, drops of sweat framing your face and those eyes glazed with something he's seen too much in the women he's fucked throughout his life. They're half lidded, mascara adorning your long lashes and almost smudged, looking right through him.

"Jungkook..." and your voice, as you say his name -acknowledging him for the first time since you stepped into his shop, for the first time since you were sixteen-, it's hoarse, almost inaudible, like you just came all over his-

He's on his feet in an instant like he's been burned. "It may bleed for the first week, and it can be really sore. The swelling will eventually come down." he's quickly tidying up the table, a bottle in his hand that he hands to you without looking directly. "Wash it gently with this soap and warm water once per day. Don't touch it. Wear a comfortable...bra. If it gets crusty, clean it with saline. Not alcohol or any other thing you might clean a wound with. The soap I just gave you or saline. Nothing else."

He's pacing around the room as he takes his gloves off and throws them in the trash bin, too agressively maybe, then he keeps rambling, like he's hurriedly trying to make you leave as soon as possible. "Avoid pools and the sea. It takes about six months to a year to heal, so don't... don't touch it, don't play with it or..." he clears his throat, "don't let anyone else play with it. And if it gets infected, come back immediately and I'll take a look at it." which he honestly hopes it won't happen. When he faces you, your top is back on and you're getting off the table.

"Alright, um...I'll do that." clearing your throat, your hand gripping the doorknob. "Thank you."

But right before you can exit the room, Jungkook says your name.

"_____." when you turn around to face him, it takes a few seconds for him to make eye contact from across the room. "It was good to see you."

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"Let me see!"

It's the first thing Chaelin says when she opens the door to her appartment. It's on the second floor, small enough to compare it to most expensive appartments you'd stayed in throughout your life, but big enough for Chaelin, her cat and her -impressive- collection of acrylic nail kits and pairs of high heels. It's also big enough for her to offer you the only guest room until summer is over so you didn't have to, one, stay at your parents' place, and two, find an appartment in a short period of time for a short period of time.

When you left years ago, you did so with the thought of 'never looking back'. You never really expected to return here, of all places. Maybe visit your best friend for a weekend at most, have dinner with your parents on a saturday and then go back to the new life you'd made for yourself on a sunday.

But that was before you'd caught Adam cheating.

Tale as old as time: childhood sweethearts get engaged, move in together, son of a bitch sleeps with the assistand he told his girlfriend not to worry about, and then the brokenhearted girl packs her bags and leaves the cheating bastard begging for her to come back.

You'd be lying if you said you were surprised.

Throughout your life, you'd learned to expect many things, regardless of being sheltered and babied by your family since you were born. Watched too much Maury and Dr.Phil. Too much Gossip Girl to know what the deal with life really is.

So, thankfully, you'd only shed a few tears, mostly because your ego and self steem were slightly triggered. You'd realize long before that your feelings for Adam started to disappear once he popped the question and you said yes. Your love story began as teenagers but soon after graduating, the two of you went on different paths: you'd matured, grown into your twenties while he got stuck at 17 and never stopped acting as such.

So yeah, whatever, break ups are hard. But they're not as hard when the love is gone and the sole reason to stay with your partner is to please your parents. You were also right when you expected your mom to tell you to 'forgive and forget' because 'those things just happen, it's not a big deal, honey'.

But above all things, the last thing you expected to happen when you came back was to show your tits and get pierced by none other than motherfucking Jeon Jungkook.

Jeon Jungkook. Guk. Gukkie. Jeongukkie.

The lanky nerd with braces, glasses and an anime obsession much bigger than his hentai obsession, which is saying a lot. The shy, awkward classmate who'd stuttered his undying crush for you when you were just kids. That one who you had rudely rejected like the bitch you used to be in high school.

But my God, Jeon Jungkook was anything but a kid now.

You were shocked. You were gagged. Couldn't seem to fathom what was happening and what your eyes were seeing. It took you a while to close your mouth when you realized JK was Guk. Gukkie. Jeongukkie.

With messy black hair, a smoldering gaze free of glasses, piercings adorning both ears, and his right eyebrow,, the braces long gone showing perfectly straight - but still bunny like- teeth. The clothes he wore were loose, all black, but it was impossible not to notice the muscles of his back and arms, covered with tattoos from his hands to his forearms. You'd bet there were more of them underneath the fabric.

It was awkward at first. You didn't know what to do, or what to say. Didn't know if he rememberd you. So you chose to stay quiet while your body chose to react like it had never been in the presence of an attractive young man in it's entire life.

And oh, did it react.

He was reluctant, his old timid demeanor peeking through his newly adopted persona. But as soon as those hands came in contact with your skin, your whole body was lit on fire. Like you were 16 and losing your virginity over again and it was the first time a dude touched your boobs.

There shouldn't have been anything erotic about it -besides the fact that your entire breasts were exposed-, it should've been just a professional procedure. But those gloved fingers touched and pinched and suddenly you were too aware of Jeon Jungkook and the way you were starting to sweat profously, not due to the heat of the season.

You tried to distract yourself by looking at the cieling and not at his gorgeous face. Tried to avoid thinking about Jeon Jungkook and how his mouth would feel wrapped around you. Tried not to think about the way your panties were a second skin to your folds, and how tempted you were to grind your hips until you recieved some sort of friction with the jean fabric of your shorts. You wonder if he noticed you squeezing your thighs together. You hope not.

And then the needle happened. You never thought of yourself as a particularly kinky person. Sex with Adam was boring for the most part and you'd lost your libido for a long time. Stopped thinking about sex altogether. But the pain. The pain mixed with his hand rubbing soothing circles on your breast and his voice, as sweet as honey, guiding you through it. It made you reconsider a lot of things you'd once dismissed as 'weird' or 'deviant'

You swear you almost came right on his table.

And then your eyes connected, you made the mistake of calling his name like a satisfied woman who still needed more, and it was all gone. He stood up like a scared cat, gave you a bunch of explanations about the aftercare that you barely grasped without even looking at you and pretty much rushed you to leave.

So you walked, all the way from the tattoo parlor to Chaelin's appartment, mortified, and completely humilliated.

"Are you gonna let me see or not?" your friend says expectantly as you finally sit down after chugging a glass of iced water. You sigh, placing the glass on the table before carefully pulling down your top. "Oh my God, it looks so cool!" she gasps and you can't help a smile while she studies it in amazement. "Did it hurt?"

"Um, I guess." you keep out the part where you almost orgasmed, obviously, stopping her hand from touching when she reaches towards you. "Wait, no. He said something about not touching it for like six months or a year, I don't remember."

At that, Chaelin's eyebrows quirk up. "He? It was a he? Was he cute, at least?"

"You won't believe this..." looking away for a few seconds, you take a deep breath. "It was Jeon Jungkook."

There's a pause, a silence that fills the room when Chaelin's jaw drops. "Jeon Jungkook...pierced your nipple?"

You close your eyes, bracing yourself for what you're a hundred percent sure is coming.

"Ha..." there it is. "Ha ha..." you still know there's more. "Ha ha ha..."

Chaelin laughs hysterically for about God knows how long, while you keep drinking your glass of water unfaced, your mind drifting back to Guk. Gukkie. Jeongukkie, his tattoos and his stupid gloved hands.

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You know he's here.

Everything was cool, you were doing alright, having a great time with your vodka sprite in hand and your cute white bikini on. Chaelin was by your side, the guys were excited to have you back and thankfully, you'd avoided most questions about Adam and they'd avoided digging too deep into the topic. You'd sunbathed the whole afternoon, kept away from the water like he'd told you and ate the Hawaiian pizza Yoongi insisted on ordering despite Namjoon's and Jimin's complaints.

It's at night, when you're a little tipsy and your cheeks are flushed, that you feel it. You'd barely noticed Taehyung disappearing to let in a new guest.

You don't see him, but you feel him.

You're sitting on the pool tile steps, legs dangling and the water baely reaching your belly to make sure it doesn't touch your very sensitive and newly pierced nipple. Your back is facing the sliding glass doors of Hoseok's house, but the moment you hear his voice, smooth but animated as he converses with Taehyung, your body wakes up immediately, back straightening, goosebumps forming on your arms and nipples tightening against the fabric of your two piece.

You don't turn around, instead opting for downing the remaining of your drink and coming to the realization that, of course, Taehyung, social butterfly who'd always got along with everybody and remained friends with most people from high school, still keeps in touch with Jungkook.

You ignore him when he enters the pool, still peering from the corner of your eyes while pretending to be engaged in Chaelin's and Jihyo's conversation. Your mind sabotages you by taking you to that day a week ago at the tattoo parlor.

To the warmth of his hand, to the few strands of hair that his small ponytail couldn't keep together, to the way his eyes focused on such an intimate part of your body, to the endless ink decorating his skin, to-

Great. Now your bottoms are wet and not due to the water.

You don't miss Chaelin supressing a laugh and her not so subtle elbowing. You glance at her in warning and try to keep calm for the next fifteen minutes until Jin proposes moving to the living room to watch a movie.

"I'm gonna stay here for a little longer, guys." you say, after clearing your throat. You needed some time to gather yourself before being in a confined space with Jungkook.

"Are you sure?" Jin stops by your side to place a hand on your shoulder as everybody starts exiting the pool. "It's Mean Girls! You love Mean Girls! You never miss a minute of Mean Girls!"

Rolling your eyes, you wave him dismissively. "I know every dialogue on Mean Girls like the back of my hand, I think I'll be alright, Jin."

When everybody finally leaves, you take a deep breath, covering your face with your hands in an attempt to get him out of your head. Damn Jeon Jungkook and his irresisitble glow up.

"You okay?"

The unexpected voice startles you, a gasp finding its way out of your mouth and causing you to jump on your seat, heartbeat erratic as you instantly recognize who it belongs to. Your hand grasps your chest as if that would do anything to protect yourself against him.

"Shit, don't do that!" you say, the words almost getting stuck in your throat as you see him approaching you, still submerged in the pool. The more he nears you, the less water depth there is and the more visible his torso comes into view. Wich was exactly what you'd been avoiding.

Because Jeon Jungkook was ripped, as you'd imagined when you first encountered him.

Broad shoulders and strong biceps and chiseled abs and veiny forearms. Drenched hair, a full sleeve of tattoos and water dripping from delicious tan skin and all just so very hard. That paired up with a loopsided smile that does nothing but make you shudder.

"Sorry." he doesn't sound apologetic at all when he says that, the smirk adorning his features telling. "You just seemed a little off." you advert your gaze when he pushes his hair back.

"I'm fine, just...just wanted to be by myself."

"Oh" Jungkook's smile disappears. "I can leave, if you want me t-"

"No!" you're not sure where that comes from and neither does he, judging by the look on his face when your eyes find his. Eyebrows raised and mouth slightly parted, he's as surprised as you and there's an awkward silence for a few seconds. "Um, you don't have to. I mean, it's not my house, you can do whatever you want." you sniff and tame your voice, trying to seem cool and collected like you didn't just practically beg him not to go.

Ironic, considering this was exactly what you had been fearing for the past thirty minutes.

And then he smiles. A knowing smile. A smile that says 'you just totally checked me out and now you don't want me to leave'. A smile that you would have never associated with Jeon Jungkook of all people years ago. A smile that makes you want to look away but still keeps you in place.

"Sure." he says, closing the space between the two of you slowly but still leaving enough distance. "So, how's it going?"

You clear your throat, head high and determined not to let this man, or any man for that matter, turn you into a trembling mess. You're still you and you're not easily shaken by the opposite sex. Or at least that's what you helplessly chant in your head.

"Everything's cool. I'm on summer vacation now," a little white lie, "so I decided to-"

"The piercing." he says, the smile never leaving his face. "I meant how's the piercing."

"The pier- right." you almost miss the step he takes forward, all too aware of his height over yours but thankful for the centimeters that being propped on the stairs added to yours. "It's-" you almost, almost miss his knee touching your knee and him slightly separating your legs with his own inch by inch. Or how your thighs open unvoluntarely to welcome him in and how you can barely find coherent words to speak. "It's doing-" or the way his smile disappears and is instead focusing his dark stare fully onto yours.

"It's doing well." you finally say in a whisper, not being able to bring yourself to be louder.

He hums. "May I see it?" Jungkook wets his lips with the tip of his tongue and the action and his voice is enough to make you nod your head, bewitched.

His movements are unhurried, his hand coming up to tentatively come in contact with the flesh of your clavicle. His fingers skim through your skin upwards, his touch is feather-like when it wraps around your throat. You pant, and he stops but he doesn't move away, his eyes still focused on yours, studying you, daring you to pull back, to tell him to back off. But just a simple touch of his and you're fully under his control. It reminds you too much of the day you got that damn piercing.

Your lips are parted and for a moment he stays just like that. His body so close to yours but not close enough, and his hand slightly gripping your neck. Your pussy clenches around nothing and you can't wrap your head around the fact that something so simple sets your entire being alive and leaves you aching.

Then, as slow as he started, his hand travels from the front of your neck to the back, pushing your hair aside to carefully untie the straps of your bikini. He breathes through his nostrils, doesn't make a sound. He seems so collected it's starting to annoy you.

Instead, your breathing is ragged when the top falls down, exposing both your breasts to him. That's when he removes his eyes from yours and his jaw clenches. Your nipples perk up under his gaze, like they remember him and the effect he had on them just a week ago. You're at least glad you're not the only one affected but he seems to be a master at keeping it under wraps.

Then, his hand moves again, leaving goosebumps on your skin as it goes south. Jungkook takes his time, so deliberate you want to scream, until he's cupping your pierced breast, keeping away from the nipple just like he'd advised you a few days prior. You can't look away from his face, from his eyes observing you like you're a full course meal and he's been starving for days. You feel drops of water falling from his hair to your thighs, his thumb caressing your skin so delicately as it faintly nears your still tender nipple. Just nearing it, never touching it.

"Beautiful." his murmur is almost imperceptible and for a moment you think you've imagined it. Your back arches on its own, breast pushed against the palm of his hand, almost like your body is begging him to come closer, to touch you more, to feel you all over. He meets your eyes briefly, gauging your reaction, before going back to your chest. Suddenly, the grip on your breast tightens, fingers ever so softly squeezing your flesh. From your throat comes a mewl, your eyes shut and your legs close around his waist.

"Jungkook, please..." you whisper when you open your eyes. He looks at you, unvertainty written all over his face, lips bruised as if he had been biting on them too hard, gaze as glassy as yours. And just like that, the spell is broken. He blinks and his expression changes completely. Lips forming a straight line and jaw tight. His hand retracts, fixing your bikini top over your breasts before tying it around your neck like it originally was. Meanwhile your eyebrows crunch in confusion. But when you're about to start asking questions, he clears his throat.

"It's healing okay." he steps back, avoiding your eyes. "I'll see you inside."

Jungkook leaves the pool like nothing happened.

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Jungkook is fiddling, fixing the position of his glasses and combing through his straight hair with shaky hands, habits he's tried so hard to get rid of in his sixteen years of existence but still finds impossible to.

He can't help it. He's always been like this: the quiet and awkward kid in class who sits in the back, a misunderstood puppy in a sea of stronger dog breeds that could eat him alive. An outcast. Too geeky for his own good. Notebokes full of Dragon Ball doodles on the margins of the pages, the shelves in his room stacked with Marvel figurines, and a closet filled with outdated clothes that he has been inheriting from his older brother.

He has never been the type to stand out, always being overlooked by people like he's invisible. He doesn't mind though. He'd much rather be ignored than getting picked on by bullies like he used to in elementary school.

He never gets invited to parties. Ever. He's a nobody who barely speaks, and when he does he either stutters or manages to embarrass himself in one way or another. He's seen the look on people's faces when they look at him. Their eyes seem to scream 'weirdo' everytime he gets acknowledged.

So obviously the only reason he was invited to this particular party had a first and last name: Kim Taehyung. The only kid in Jungkook's entire life who didn't look at him in a funny way, the only kid who took the time to entangle in a random conversation with him after class and who seemed geniune enough to make Jungkook feel comfortable.

He's not sure how it happened, since Taehyung mostly hangs out with the cool kids. But somehow it did, and now Jungkook is uncomfortably standing in a living room full of drunk teens, looking directly at you.

You, the one girl Jungkook had been pining on for God knows how long. You, who are obviously too pretty, too popular, and way out of his league. You, with your plaid skirt and your polo shirt and those legs that never seem to end. You, who are sitting with your friends in a couch, drink in hand and visibly tipsy. And yet, he doesn't think he's ever seen anyone pull of the 'drunk-rosy-cheek' look better than you.

He can hear your laugh through the music and he already thinks it sounds better than whoever is playing in the background.

"Come on, Gukkie! Her friends are leaving and she's all by herself now! It's your chance" Taehyung's obviously drunk too because it took Jungkook a while to decypher his exact words. He'd disappeared for a while and now that he's back, he's pushing Jungkook in your direction.

"This was a mistake, Taehyung." Jungkook shakes his hair and steps back, quickly glancing at the front door to prepare his escape. But his new friend's grip on his hoodie keeps him in place.

"Guk, listen. The only thing you have to do, is walk up to her, and say 'hey I think you're, like, really pretty. Just letting you know. Bye!' That's it. Jung- Dude, Guk, seriously, look at me." Taehyung grabs Jungkook's cheeks, squishing them between his hands and forceing him to face him. "You've been crushing hard on her for years, my man. We're graduating and you won't see each other again. What's the worst thing that can happen? Getting rejected?"

Jungkook's eyebrows draw together. "Um, yeah?"

"Exactly! Getting rejected is not the end of the world, bro! It just means keep trying on other girls!" Taehyung releases his hold on Jungkook's cheeks. "I just think you're going to regret not telling your crush she's your crush. Who knows? Maybe in the future you two will get married."

Jungkook snickers, muttering a 'yeah right' under his breath. Still, he can't help the smile that Taehyung's words always seem to pull out of him.

"Now," Taehyung playfully slaps Jungkook before turning him in your direction again. "Go get 'em, tiger!"

"Okay," Mijoo's voice slices through Jungkook's memories. She's sitting on Jungkook's desk, munching on her brownies and looking at her coworker expectantly. "And then what?"

He sighs, running a hand through his hair, sits back on his chair, already feeling the effects of Mijoo's baked goods. "And then I walked up to her, like a damn fool, stutter and all. And I say:" he clears his throat, making an effort to do his best teenage Gukkie impression."'Hey, _____, um, so, I think you're beautiful and I've had a crush on you since seventh grade, haha, just wanted to let you know.'"

Mijoo rolls her eyes, still chewing. "And then what?"

"And then she looked me up and down, giggled, fucking giggled, Mijoo, and said 'Who are you, again?'" Mijoo gasps and Jungkook closes his eyes, trying to force that recollecion out of his head.

"What a bitch." she can't help but laugh before apologizing. Jungkook merely shrugs his shoulders and takes another bite of his brownie. "She didn't say anything else?"

"She said something along the lines of:" he clears his throat again, this time, doing an impression of you. "'That's sweet and all but, you and I... we're not the same. And I have a boyfriend, so...' She said that like I didn't know, like I wasn't aware of the school's it couple! Like I was dumb!"

Mijoo nods. "And now you want to fuck her even more than you did in high school."

"I- No! Well, yes. Fuck, of course I want to sleep with her! But I just... can't."

"Why not?"

"Did you hear anything about what I just told you or were you too concentrated trying to get high?"

It's Mijoo's turn to roll her eyes. "I heard everything you just told me. I just don't understand what the problem is. You two were sixteen. Sure, she was a bitch about it, but Lord knows I've been a bitch my entire life and now I'm not anymore." Jungkook raises an eyebrow at that. "Okay, sometimes I can be nice. But the point is..." Mijoo finishes her piece of brownie before getting off of Jungkook's desk. "It's been, what? Nine? Ten years? People change, JK. You're the best example of that. You want to fuck her and she obviously wants to fuck you too. You're both adults." she wipes her hands on her shorts. "I think it's time you fulfill that high school fantasy of yours."

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You've made up your mind.

And by you, it means Chaelin has made up your mind.

It didn't take long to convince you though. That last interaction with Jungkook cause too many emotions stirring within you. It left you hot, it left you bothered, it left you confused. Sure, it also left you a little bit embarrassed like the first time, but above everything else, that interaction with Jungkook left you absolutely livid.

Because who the fuck did Jeon Jungkook, formerly known as Guk, Gukkie, Jungukkie, and currently known as JK, think he was to come near you, speed your heart rate's up, and then runaway like that?

You've spent days thinking about it. About that face, about that body, about those hands and- shit. You're doing it again.

You've spent days trying to push those intrusive thoughts. Spent days trying to bury what happened. You've spent days trying to keep quiet, not telling anyone about it and just wishing that stupid spark of desire simply went away.

But it has just been simply unavoidable. You haven't been able to ignore the sleepless nights with your brain drifting back to that night and forbidding your hand from slipping under your panties. Or the excessive amount of time during the day where images of him suddenly popped in your head and wouldn't go away, even with you squeezing your thighs to try to make the ache go away.

So you ended up ranting and ranting and ranting to the only person you could confide on, who is obviously your best friend. Your best friend, who's too smart for her own good and knows you too well for your liking. Because apparently your moodiness and snappy remarks couldn't go unnoticed.

And after explaining the fiasco over a bottle of wine -and minutes of endless laughing on Chaelin's part because, again, it's Gukkie you two were talking about and, according to her, this was "the most karmic thing I've ever seen"-, she gave you the best advice an older sister could ever give.

"Fuck him."

"I know right? Fuck him!"

"No. I mean, fuck him."

And now here you are. Right inside that room you stepped in weeks ago, confronting the man in question with the same confidence that has always distinguished you from others and trying to act like the fluttering inside your belly wasn't nauseauting.

"A date."

"Yes."

"You want to go on a date with me." this wouldn't be so hard if Jungkook didn't look so delectable in a plain white t-shirt and ripped jeans. You cross your arms over your chest, doing your best to not look down at the exposed skin of a man who obviously worked out a lot and apparently, never skipped leg day. "What's the catch?"

He's sitting on his chair, back resting comfortably and legs spread, narrowing his eyes at you and probably wondering why the girl at the front desk let you in without an appointment. Also, probably wondering if there was a catch to all of this.

"There's no catch. I just want to go to the fair this weekend. I'll ask Taehyung for your number and text you the date and the exact place we'll be meeting. Unless..." your quirk one of your eyebrows. "Unless you're already planning on how you'll chicken out this time."

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Of course, Jungkook says yes to going on a date with his high school crush but spends the following days overthinking every single thing.

He can't help but feel like it's kinda sketchy. What if you're planning your vendetta on him? What if you don't even show up and he ends up there looking like a damn idiot? What if you hate him and are just messing up with him? What if that incident in high school is going to repeat itself?

"If she doesn't show up, you simply move on and never speak to her again. It's that simple. She can't have that much power over you to cry about something like that." Mijoo had said that same day she let you in the tattoo parlor after you'd asked to see Jungkook. Jungkook's coworker hadn't even question you and just motioned you to Jungkook's room with a knowing smile on her face. Later that day, Jungkook had scolded her about it and she'd simply shrugged.

He considers cancelling, eyes reading the 'won't be able to make it, sorry (sad face emoji)' over and over again and fingers hovering over the send button so many times he's lost count. But then he remembers that comment of yours about him chickening out and Jungkook starts seeing red.

How couldn't you understand he's just terrified of you rejecting him one more time? Sure, Jungkook is now an adult who doesn't get butthurt over stuff like that. He's experienced too much after graduating from high school and he's a much stronger individual than his fragile self back was back then.

But something about you just makes him feel so... weak.

He still finds it impossible to concieve where he got the courage to approach you like that at Taehyung's pool, or how he brought himself to touch you for longer than a minute without coming in his pants. He'd enjoyed it too much. Allowing him to see you so exposed, just for him. He'd be so tempted to kiss you right there and then, to run his hands up and down your thighs and fully wrap your legs around him to let you known how much you'd affected him. Once you called his name, it was like he'd finally snapped out of it and backed away like he'd been burned by you. He spent the next twenty minutes trying to keep himself from pulling down his pants and jerking off in his friend's bathroom.

It's terrible. Because he feels like the teenager he used to be when you're around. Shy, insecure and overall a mess. You showing up in his life after so many years and now apparenly being interested in him seems like a dream that he's not sure he wants to keep being in or wake up from before it's too late and he falls back into that tumoltuous longing that will inevitably end up in heartbreak. His heartbreak.

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It's saturday night, he's standing by himself in the crowded fair at the spot. You're fifteen minutes late and he's already about to turn back and dip out. He feels too awkward and the nerves are eating him alive.

You're not going to show up. You're not going to show up and now he feels and looks even dumber than the time he told you he was crushing on you. You're not even going to show up and now he's going to come back home, get drunk by himself and curse your name for-

"Hey!" he turns around to the sound of your voice and sees you running towards him. "Sorry I'm late! I couldn't find my phone and spent like thirty minutes looking for it. Turns out, Sharon Stone, was taking a nap on top of it and I didn't even notice."

"Sharon Stone?"

"Chaelin's cat."

To be honest, he's too surprised to process your explanation right away. He might also be a little speechless because that sky blue sundress looks too good on your skin and your eyelashes are so long, framing your beautiful eyes, and your lips are all glossy and kisseable that it takes him a while to find his own voice.

He clears his throat. "It's alright." scratching the back of his head, he momentarely adverts his gaze from you in an attempt to not get distracted by how soft your hair looks and how much he wants to wrap it around his hands in a ponytail. "Um, where do you want to go first?"

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Almost an hour and a half later, when the sun has already disappeared and you're both surrounded by colorful lights, Jungkook decides to buy the both of you hot dogs and a drink and you both settle down on a bench.

You've been walking all over the fair, going from booth to booth, playing any game in sight Jungkook dared you to -he obviously had a competitive streak-: from the ballon and dart games, to the shooting games, to the bumping cars, to the ball-in-basket one. To say you were having fun was an understatement.

You'd almost regretted setting the date up. You were sure he wouldn't even show up and if he did, you were scared of how awkward things could get between the two of you. And if things were awkward, you were sure it would only take less than thirty minutes for the both of you to part ways and never talk again about such failure of a date.

To your surprise, none of that happened.

The conversation was flowing, both of you acting like you were strangers on their first date getting to know each other, which, to be fair, that's exactly what it felt like. There was a slight banter, teasing each other when one of you lost in whatever game you were playing while the other was obviously winning. There were laughs and a funny feeling in your tummy whenever you'd walk side by side and his arm brushed yours.

There was no stiffness on his shoulders, no mention of the past or your previous encounters, no acknowledgement of the blatant sexual tension you'd experienced before, not an ounce of avoidance whenever your eyes met his and he was even sure of himself enough to place a hand on your lower back or briefly interwine your fingers with his to guide you through the mass of people.

It felt like you'd both unspokenly agreed on making each other feel comfortable enough to have a good time.

"I didn't think you were going to show up, to be honest." you suddenly say, taking a sip of your strawberry juice and thankful to finally let your feet rest for a while.

Jungkook looks at you, hot dog mid air and eyebrows almost disappearing into his hairline. "You didn't think I was going to show up? I didn't think you were going to show up." you simply shrug, lowering your gaze seepishly, the beginning of a smile on both your faces. He surprises you by tilting your head in his direction with his forefinger. You watch him watching you, a little dazed, a little lost in how his dark hair messily falls over his forehead and his equally dark eyes study your face, his thumb swiping over your lower lip. "You um... There was ketchup right there." he lies.

"Oh" you say, feeling your face heating up. "Thanks. Red doesn't really match this dress." you manage a smile and tuck a lock of your hair behind your ear.

At that, he eyes your dress for a moment, mouth slightly ajar. He's debating on whether or not to say something but you beat him to it.

"I'm sorry, by the way."

"For being late? I already told you it's fin-"

"No." you shake your head. "For... that time when we were young and I was such a concieted brat." you say, looking away , trying to find anything else that's not his pretty face. "I thought I was a queen bee back then. I was annoying and rude, specially to you. I..." you lick your lips. The cherry glittery gloss was already gone. "I thought it was cute, what you said. There was no reason for me to act like that. I know this doesn't make anything right but..." when you turn to face him again, there's still the same expression on his face. "I'm sorry."

A few seconds go by before it's him who's shaking his head. "It's okay. It was a long time ago, anyway." he smiles at you, although it doesn't reach his eyes and seems sorta forced. You sigh, and he takes your hand. "Let's go to the ferris wheel."

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tell you're tense. You're sitting right beside him in the ferris cabin, your back is all straight, you're facing forward and he believes you haven't blinked for what feels like an eternity. He thinks it has everything to do with your conversation a few minutes ago. You were probably not content with his response but what could Jungkook do? There was really no point in apologizing for something that happened years ago, but at the same time, he didn't want to hold anything against you like a resentful asshole because it was really not who he was. But there was still a little bit of stingyness inside of him and he didn't know how to make it go away.

At the end of the day, here you were, on a date with him that you'd asked for, getting along and asking questions about him and laughing at his jokes and trying to start all over again.

But then the ferris wheel starts moving, and he finally understands why you look so uncomfortable.

It's the way you immediately grip his forearm, nails digging in his skin and he swears he hears the smallest gasp forcing itself out your throat.

"Are you... scared?" he tentatively asks.

You say nothing for a while, not moving an inch. He would laugh if you didn't look so pained about it.

"I don't like small confined spaces nor rollercoasters." you finally say through gritted teeth.

"It's not really that small and ferris wheels are not rollercoasters. " your nails dig deeper and he winces. "Okay, okay. You don't like small confined spaces nor rollercoasters, and that includes ferris wheels. So why didn't you tell me?"

"I don't know. I've never liked ferris wheels but you seemed excited about it, so..."

There's a silence after that in the environment, neither of you exactly sure of what to say or how to act. Until Jungkook moves one of his hands hands until it's resting on the one who's holding onto him for dear life, fingers caressing yours. The warmth of his hand spreads through yours and although it's almost July and you can already feel your sweaty back staining your dress, it's oddly comforting. What's more comforting even, is him twisting his body towards you and talking with the calmest and most soothing tone you've ever heard.

"Look at me." you do instantly, unwillingly, and kinda wish you hadn't. It's almost as if your body will do anything he says without question. Like he has some sort of power over it to just react however he wants. His eyes bore into yours and suddenly the cab doesn't seem so suffocating. "It's just you and me right now. We're not even on a ferris wheel." the corners of his mouth turn slowly upwards. You zone out the environment, suddenly too aware of him and how close he is and how loud the beating of your heart is to your own ears.

"Jungkook."

You swallow the knot in the back of your throat when he removes his hand from yours. It almost makes you protest, - now realizing you've losened the tight grip on his arm- , before it craddles your face, keeping you in place while bringing his body closer.

"You have to stop saying my name like that."

With his thigh touching your thigh, your whole demeanor melts. When he leans closer, and you feel his breath fanning over your lips, your eyes shut closed.

"Tell me I can-" he starts to say.

"Yes." you finish for him. He doesn't doubt on closing the distance between you two. His lips touch yours and your body shakes in excitement. It's just him lightly skimming your lips with his but it's already too much and at the same time, not enough. It has you deepening it, yourself moving closer when he kisses you again. It has you relaxing against him, the tenseness prior disappearing and making you arch your back when his tongue asks for permission.

But it's exactly then, the moment you open your lips to him, that has you losing your mind.

The sparks fly, traveling from your head to your toes and then settling on the pit of your stomach as soon as the kiss starts to turn desperate and rough. When he nibbles your lips with his teeth, it makes you mewl and whine and your nipples tight against the cotton of your dress. It makes the metal barbell to feel uncomfortable, slightly painful. And when he goes back to being messy and filthy with his tongue tangled with yours, your thighs close on their own.

He forces himself to pull his hand back and bring it down, finding the parting of yd opening them for him. "Wait," you say, your fingers wrapping around his forearm as you try to catch your breath."The ferris-" he shuts you up with another kiss.

"We're not on a ferris wheel." he reminds you, a soft whisper against your mouth. And for whatever reason, you believe him.

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"He fingered you on the ferris wheel."

"Yes."

"And you came before the ride was over."

You take a small sip of wine, your eyes focusing on the TV where a rerun of the Golden Girls is playing, although, to be fair, lately you haven't been able to pay much attention to anything else but a certain brunet with doe eyes and kisseable lips. "Yes."

She hums, stealing a handful of popcorn from the bowl between your thighs.

"How long did it took? Like five minutes?"

There's a pause in which you clench your jaw, your fingers twitching around the glass in your hand, and then you answer. "Probably less."

There's another pause, and then-

"Ha...Ha ha...Ha ha ha-"

You let her laugh. It's okay. You knew you had it coming.

Chaelin knows the pillow you throw right at her face is also something she had coming.

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It's not that you're mad.

Jungkook and you had a great time on that fair date, he made you laugh, bought hot dogs and drinks for the two of you and got you off inside the cab of a ferris wheel on record time with those magical, long fingers of his. Technically, there shouldn't be anything to be angry about.

Except it's been a week and you can't stop thinking about him, about wanting more, and about those words that he left you with after the ferris wheel ride ended, when you had tried to return the favor.

'Next time, maybe.'

And there hasn't been a next time.

The thought of texting him or giving him a call to ask for another date is persistent in your mind. It remains while you do the laundry or wash the dishes, while you shower, while you eat or while you spend your days at the beach with Chaelin. There's always the incessant desire to reach out towards your phone, unlock it and dial his number to beg for more.

But you'd never been one to beg, so you resist the urge everytime that feeling starts to creep up on you and it washes over you like a wave. You silence your phone and try to concentrate on making the most out of your summer.

It's one random night, when you're tiredly dragging your feet across Chaelin's apartment's carpet, yawning and ready to succumb to a well needed slumber, that you see your phone screen's lighting up with a message.

Your heart pathetically leaps inside your chest when you read his name.

'you free on saturday?'

You wish you could say you ghosted him, ignored his text and moved on with your life until it was him who begged you for another date. But the truth is you opened it in a matter of seconds and typed 'i'm free, why?' back in a rush with trembling fingers.

So now you're on the passanger seat of his car while he sits on the driver seat, the first saturday night of July, like he's Danny Zuko and you're Sandy Olsson, watching a vintage movie in a drive-in theater which plot you don't give a shit about, even if Jungkook's date plan idea made something inside of you churn with adoration.

And the only reason why you don't give a single damn about the movie playing in front of your eyes, is because you're hot. Way too hot. And the reason and cause is none other than the boy-now-turned-man sitting on your left.

You barely exchanged words when he picked you up, just rode in silence until you got to your destination and you bet he can feel as well as you do the tension in the air.

You've surveyed him a few times from the corner of his eye, noticing him fiddling with the rings around his fingers and shifting in his seat from time to time. And if the sight of his fingers bring memories that you've tried to bury to keep yourself from lunching towards him, a brief glance at his forearms, adorned with ink drawn through his golden flesh -doing a poor job at concieling the veins running underneath- and his skin-tight jeans wrapping those muscled thighs of his is enough to have you be the one squirming in your seat.

A woman can only endure so much, and you come to that realization thirty minutes into the movie.

"I want to suck your cock." you say, a stern expression on your face as you turn your body in his direction.

Jungkook frozes as your voice slides over him. It takes him a couple seconds to look at you, shock widening his eyes and parting his lips.

"Huh?" he manages, his grip on the steering wheel turning his knuckles white.

Without separating your gaze from his, you gather your hair and tie it in a ponytail with the hair tie previously around your wrist. You don't miss the quick glance he sneaks into the curvature of your neck and the valley between your breasts.

Inching forward, closing in on him, you place one of your hands on top of his thigh, the action making his whole body tense. "____..." he whispers your name in a warning that doesn't sound convincing even in his own ears.

You smile, your eyes never wavering from his as your hand inches upwards, slowly caressing over the fabric of his jeans until you finally come across what you were looking for.

His hand flies to your wrist, stilling your movements. "____, this is not-". He starts, but his voice gets stuck inside his throat when you palm his undoubtly growing erection.

"Shh." your shaky breath fans over his cheek and you force yourself on your knees on the passanger seat in a more comortable possition to stop the trembling to reach them.

You fumble with the belt holding his pants in place, then with the button and finally with the zipper. He helps you by lifting his hips to pull his jeans and boxers to his thighs and you have to bite back a mixture between a gasp and a moan at the sight below you. You haven't even seen Jeon Jungkook naked all the way, but the mere sight of his hard cock with pre-cum glistening on his crown is probably the sexiest thing you've ever had the pleasure of appreciating.

It gets sexier when you wrap your hand around the base and his body melts in the driver seat, throwing his head back with his eyes shut. It gets even sexier when you finally lower your head, swirling your tongue over the head before finally engulfing him fully in the wet warmth of your mouth.

"Shit." his voice is tight, uneven as his hand loosely grips your ponytail, as if careful not to accidentally hurt you and break the glorious moment.

Although you wouldn't mind at all. Because the moment your hands are on him, and your tongue is on his shaft, that's the only thing you care about. Your belly is twisting, an undeniable wet spot on your panties as the fabric sticks to your folds, and the more you suck Jungkook, the more you want from him. His earthy taste is addicting and the soft little whimpers he occasionally can't prevent himself from are making you want to milk him until he can't take it no more. There's this desire within you to whorship him and his cock like you had been dreaming for the past weeks.

"This is s-so fucking h-hot." he rasps between ragged breaths, the bobbing of your head, sliding up and down his dick as your hand works the centimeters your mouth can't take is about to make him faint.

"Getting a blowjob?" you joke, your throat starting to feel sore as you kiss his leaking tip.

"N-no." he draws in a rough breath when you take him all of him again. "You giving me a blowjob... T-the f-fact that anyone c-could see us..." he darts a quick glance at your body, your ass up in the air and your dress sliding down, almost exposing you completely. "The fact that-ah! Shit..." he squeezes his eyes when he feels a glob of your spit lubricating him.

There's a sudden need to make you feel the same, to touch your skin and have you shaking the same way you have him. So one of his hands travels from your spine, to your perked ass, finally dragging the cotton of your dress to allow himself to see your thin white panties. "The fact that anyone could see you l-like this," he murmurs, regaining a little bit of control when he squeezes one of your cheeks. "letting t-them see you s-sucking my cock and..." he smirks when he feels you gasping around him, his fingers trapped between your thighs and pushing them inside your heat easily "and letting them see me fingering this pretty little pussy."

Soon after that he's cumming in your mouth while you're cumming around his fingers.

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At first, it's mostly on weekends when you see each other. Weekends of stolen kisses and soft sighs and whispering against each other's lips. Then weekends turn to week days, sitting on grass while sipping on refreshing beverages, drawing each other laughs, elbows touching as you walk around the park side by side because the both of you are too scared to interwine your fingers together.

Jungkook feels content like this: sitting on the sand with you between his thighs, admiring the sunset while nuzzing your neck and inhaling your scent every now. He likes waching you enoying your strawberry ice cream, almost forgetting the chocolate chip one already melting in his hand.

"If you were an ice cream flavor,which one would you be?" you ask him, relaxing against his chest.

"Rocky road."

"Why?"

He shrugs behind you. "Everyone likes rocky road."

You hum, playfully rolling your eyes. "What about me? Which ice cream flavor would I be?"

"Lemon sherbet, in the summer."

"Lemon sherbet? Out of all of the flavours out there, you're rocky road and I'm lemon sherbet?"

"Lemon sherbet, in the summer." he corrects.

"Okay, fine. Why?"

"You're boring and basic."

You gasp, trying to feign outrage but not being able to repress the laugh that escapes your throat. You elbow him, his laugh mixing with yours while taking the time to wrap his arms around your form, the breeze blowing your hair allowing him a spot between your neck and your shoulder. "You're boring and basic, but once you have a taste..." he presses a small kiss on your skin, causing the tiny hairs on the nape of your neck to rise. "Once you have a taste, specially on the hottest day in the middle of summer, you can't stop tasting and licking until there's no more lemon sherbet left."

You suck in on a breath when he craddles your jaw to face him. "It's been my favourite flavor since I was a kid." he kisses you immediately after, his lips swallowing the small whimper now stuck in your throat.

You close your eyes as his tongue opens your mouth, arousal blasting your insides and something much, much deeper that you fear to even name shredding your chest.

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The beginning of august comes faster then you two realize, but what you both do realize is how hard it's becoming to stay away from each other.

It's been thirty days of dates happening almost everyday, sharing high school memories and anecdotes of the time you spent away from each other. Hours of getting to know each other and opening up to each other. From failed relationships to new friendships. Of park dates walking side by side and fingers now interwined because you both realized one day that, fuck it.

It's difficult to sleep when you realize you're starting to catch serious feelings for somebody who was just supposed to be a fling. It's hard to sleep when his face, his voice and his touch and thoughts of missing him when you don't see each other start haunting you at night.

It's hard for Jungkook to focus on work when you're everything that's occupying his mind. Because he has a hundred sketches to make but he's too busy thinking about the hundred different sketches he would make of you.

It's hard not to send him a goodnight text, just like it's hard for him not to reply in a matter of seconds, almost as if he was already waiting to recieve it.

Jungkook thinks of you at night. Of how pretty and absolutely perfect you are for him. Of the taste of your lips, the way your hair feels between his fingers, or the flush on your cheeks when he makes you cum as droplets of sweat accumulate between your breasts. He thinks about your voice. He also thinks about the amount of hours left to be able to listen to it again.

But mostly he thinks about how ridiculous this situation is. Because he was stupidly crushing on you when you were only teenagers, daydreaming about a chance with you. And now his crush is long gone and he's starting to realize that he's falling, and falling fast.

You, too, think of Jungkook at night. Of his ability to bring a smile out of you, to soothe you with just a few words and filling your belly excitement, happiness and feelings you're sure you've never felt before.

Jungkook's managed to imprint himself in your dreams, and you, in his.

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Getting drunk with Jungkook is fun and messy.

It's fun because he lets loose, he stutters a lot like he used to do when he was a teenager and he makes you laugh louder than ever before. It's messy because he has no control over his hands as they explore your body, clumsily taking your clothes off as his mouth laps at the breast he's allowed to touch.

He's more forceful and dominating too, pinning your hands above your head, and commanding you to keep them right there, on the pillows of his bed. When you rebel against it, your fingers finding the hard planes of his chest, he pulls away from you and places them back where he left them. "Don't make me tie you up." he threatens, and your body shudders beneath him.

He sucks, and bites and leaves marks all over your skin, grunting in response to your moans. Creating a path of kisses from your lips to your stomach, his shoulders separating your knees, opening you up only for him. And thankfully, when you reach down to tug at the strands of hair framing his face, he lets you, because he knows you need something to hold on to the moment his tongue eats you up. He leaves his fingertrips on your thighs as he keeps you in place, not allowing you to runaway. Just forcing you to take it as he takes from you.

And when you cum, he doesn't back away. He keeps sucking, and licking and punishing you with his mouth until you're cumming over and ove again, screaming and begging for his cock.

Having Jungkook over you, both completely naked, skin to skin and only sweat in between is more than you could've ever fantazised about. He slurls your name when he puts the condom on. He would do anything to feel you raw, but he also knows he wouldn't be able to last a minute. The sight of you spread open, with your cheeks darkened by a crimson blush and your hair tangled all over his pillow is a picture he wants to keep forever.

He enters you when you call his name, your voice dripping with need. He stretches your warm and wet felsh, slowly easing himself into you at first, until he's fully inside and your bodies are completely in union. A shiver runs down Jungkook's spine when he looks at your contorted face in pleasure, your lips forming an 'O' and your pussy clenching around him.

"Oh, my God." you moan into the dark of Jungkook's room, and even then, he can clearly appreciate every curve of your body lifting off the mattress to connect with his. He lowers himself on his elbows on either side of your head, caging you in and capturing your mouth with his.

"I know, baby." he murmurs. It's hot, in the middle of August but suddenly Jungkook doesn't hate summer as much as he used to. Not with you sharing the heat with him. "It's way beyond what I could ever imagine." You nod hurriedly against his lips, your arms finding their way around his neck as he starts rocking in and out of you.

"It's too good." you cry, when he hits a particular spot that has you rolling your eyes in bliss and gripping his waist tighter with your legs against you. Your fingers thread through his hair, not bothered by the beads of sweat gathered on the nape of his neck.

"Too good..." he agrees, not missing the shiver that's shaking your own frame when he picks up his speed. "You have no idea what I would do t-to fucking feel you with n-no barriers between us," his movements become frantic as his hips slap against yours, his jaw clenched as he keeps talking, "to s-stuff you full of my c-cum over and over again until it won't stop d-dripping."

Jungkook's voice against your ear has you trembling and your orgasm nearing closer, your nails scratching down his back as his thrusts overpower your form. "Would you like that?" he asks with his voice strangled.

"Y-yes. Anything y-you want."

"You'd take all of my cum like a good cum-slut?"

You hate the fact that that's what makes you come undone. The twisting and knotting in the pit of your stomach finally snapping until you're holding on to him like you never want to let him go and he's following soon after.

Because if Guk, Gukkie, Jengukkie was not only able to make you come in less than a few minutes with his fingers or his tongue, but he was also able to make you cum instantly just by calling you a good cum-slut, that means you're fucked. Like, really, really fucked.

≿━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━༺❀༻━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━≾

There's a knot in Jungkook's stomach and a suffocating grip around his vocal chords as he caresses your skin. The sun is rising in the distance with the first rays of light entering his room through the window. Your shamphoo is intoxicating him, numbing him and enticing him to bury his nose in the tangled curls pressing against his chest. Your arm is thrown across his stomach, your breathing leavig goosebumps all over his body.

"It's too early. Go back to sleep." you mumble against his heart. He wonders if you can feel it dangerously speeding up.

"I can't." he says, voice struggling to stay balanced. "I have to tell you something."

You hum in response, sleep still interwined with your body, your arm tightening around him. You sigh in content, expecting him to elaborate.

He wets his suddenly dry lips. "I don't want this to end. In fact, ____.... I want more. Need more."

"Jungkook..." your whole body goes rigid right away, untanglling your bodies from each other and sitting up on the mattress.

"No, listen to me." he mimicks your movements, rapidly grabbing your hands to make you look at him. His eyes are expressive, a mixture of fear and hope swirling in his dark irises. "I wake up everyday, and you're the first thing I think of. I go on about my day, and I keep thinking about you, wondering what you're doing and counting down the hours until I get to see you again. I spend every night dreaming about you, and when we'e together, the only thing I can think about is how I wish I could stop time so I don't have to say bye to you the next morning. ____, I-"

"Jungkook, stop please." you shake your head, pushing away from him and in desperate need of air. You press a hand against your chest, beating back the throb of pain while the other curls in a tight fist, the feeling of your fingernails digging into your palm less painful than the ache inside your heart. "This... This wasn't supossed to happen, Jungkook." you start pacing around the room, as if trying to find an exit while avoiding his gaze. "This was just a summer fling. That's all it was, I'm supposed to come back to the city in two weeks and-"

"A summer fling?" a sardonic sneer comes out of him. "Oh my God, I can't believe this is happening again..." he mumbles to himself before rising from the bed. You stop immediately, a shiver quaking through you as his impressive frame intimidates His eyebrows are drawn together and his dark eyes are void of any prior emotion. "You're going back to the city in two weeks? And you didn't care to tell me until now, after I just spilled my guts to you?"

You eyes fill up with uncomfortable tears, reaching one arm towards him. "Jung-"

He flinches, taking one step back. "A summer fling is all I mean to you?"

"Ju- "

"Look me in the eyes, right now, and tell me that's all I mean to you. A summer fling." panic crawls up your throat. There's the need within you to confirm, to stare into his beautiful and stern eyes and tell him that, yes, that's all he is to you. But you've never been a good liar. So nothing comes out. You opt for wrapping your ams around yourself wishing they were his and lowering your eyes to the ground. "I think... I think you should leave."

Those are the last words he says to you, and the last thing you see when you turn around one more time after gathering your clothes, is his back as he looks out the window.

You allow yourself to cry the exact moment you step into Chaelin's apartment. Your friend is sitting on the couch, bowl of cereal in hand and a fresh cup of coffee sitting on the livingroom's table.

"Hey, you're early tod- Baby, what's wrong?"

"Please, don't laugh."

That morning, you lay down for hours on the couch with your head on Chaelin's lap while she softly brushes your hair as you cry, hiccup, fight through the pain in your heart and relate to her as best as you can the latest events.

She doesn't laugh at all.

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"She'll come back." Mijoo's slurred words do nothing to put Jungkook's state at ease that night. He simply shrugs, fingers clenching at his sides, frowing into his drink before gulping down the bitter taste of vodka in one shot. "Seriously, I think she's just afraid. My ex was the same."

"Comparing her to your ex is not the analogy you think it is."

"Ugh, shut up. Things didn't work with my ex because she was a bitch." Jungkook gives Mijoo a pointed look which she responds to by rolling her eyes and sipping on her rum coke. "Your girl is not a bitch. She used to be a bitch. What she did this morning was bitchy, but, like I said, she's just being a pussy. If she only wanted sex with you, she wouldn't have been doing couple stuff with you the entire summer."

"Whatever. I don't care." he lies and Mijoo knows he's lying but decides to drop the subject fo now.

≿━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━༺❀༻━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━≾

"We can't keep spending our days smoking weed." Chaelin speaks over Blanche's voice on the TV.

"I know. I'm just sad."

"You have to come back and tell him how you feel."

"I know."

There's a beat of silence before your friend kicks your thigh with her feet.

"I know and I will." you mumble through red eyes and smoke clouds.

≿━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━༺❀༻━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━≾

It's September first and it doesn't feel like Jungkook's birthday at all. He's been trying to focus on his work, alternating between isolating in full hermit mode and hanging out with friends to drink away his sorrow. The days have gone by and before he could realize it, he woke up today with over twenty text messages wishing him a happy day and a throbbing hangover.

He dresses up on autopilot. First a cotton shirt, then a pair of jeans and lastly, his Nike's. He doesn't bother tying his sneakers just like he doesn't bother taking a shower. He smokes a cigarette for breakfast, the death stick making him feel nauseaus on an empty stomach. And then he goes to work.

He's been repeating the same routing for the past weeks and he's not thinking of changing it, not even on his bithday.

He spends hours drawing, tattooing and drawing some more between yawns. He ignores texts an phone calls and simply waits until the day is over to go home, go to bed and forget about the fact that you're probably on your way to the city and that he hasn't crossed your mind not even once.

≿━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━༺❀༻━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━≾

Inkphoria.

You've been standing outside the shop re-reading the word for fifteen minutes, although it definitely feels like it has been longer. You're gripping cup of ice cream as it melts down your fingers the more you wait. The shop is already empty and it's starting to darken out side, and still you're so hot. Your shorts are heavy and your tank top is sticking to your skin. You didn't even bother to put on any make, although your eyebags definitely needed some concieling and your lashes some dimension to hide the fact that you'd been crying for the last few days.

'You're crazy about him.'

Chaelin's voice echoes inside your head.

You've lost count of how many times your best friend has given your advice, or simply encouraged you to do something you've been too scared to try.

'And he's cazy about you too.'

Chaelin might be wrong about marmite and the movie Cats, but she's definitely now wrong about anything regarding your and Jungkook.

That's it. You briefly close your eyes, inhale a deep breath then release it slowly. You start walking. It doesn't take longer than three strides and you're pushing the door open.

The tattoed blonde looks up from the counter the second you come into view. She smiles at the distance between you two. "You can come closer. I won't bite."

You clear your throat, stalking closer to her. "Is he-"

"He's in the back." she replies before you can finish you question. You close your mouth, clear your throat and nod your head.

"Thanks, Mijoo." she gives you a small wink, her smile easing your nerves like she had three months ago.

She watches you disappear. She shakes he head, her smile meeting her eyes. "I told him so."

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Jungkook ignores the knock on his door at first. It's almost ten and the parlor is about to close. He just has to finish this last fucking sketch so he can grab his shit and go the fuck ho-

Knock knock.

He growls, exhasperation cursing through him. He runs a hand through his messy pile of hair, his rings tangling between the strands, making him wince in pain. "Come in." he grunts under his breath. The door opens. "Mijoo, I really have to finish-"

He stops dead in his tracks as soon as he sees you.

"Hey." you say after a moment of hesitation.

"Hey." he replies and although there's something inside, deep in his chest, shouting at him to stand up, run up to you and kiss your face while he tells you how beautiful you look right now and how happy he is to see that you're still here, he decides against it. "Listen, ____, I'm pretty busy-"

"No, you listen to me." you cut him off abruptly. He looks taken aback and is already opening his mouth to say something, but you're not having it. "Please, just... Let me talk."

Silence looms between the two of you for a while, a staring contest defying each other to back down. When you take one step inside and close the door behind you, he sighs and leans back against his chair.

You move towards him slowly, your lip caught between your lip going through your mind for the speech you'd been preparing the last few days. Your hands are sticky due to the the sugary treat liquifying in your hand. "I know there's no reason you should give me another chance after rejecting you in high school, and there's definitely no reason why you should forgive me for the way I shut you out a few weeks ago. You've been confessing your feelings to me since we were teenagers, and now it's my turn to tell you exactly how I feel about you."

"Jungkook, the truth is... I like you so much. I like you more than I've ever liked anyone. Ever. I said this was just a summer fling, and I was lying. I was lying because there's no way a simple summer fling could make me feel the way you do. There's no way a simple summer fling could make me want not just summer with you, but also fall and winter, and spring and every summer that comes next."

You hadn't realize when your eyes filling up with tears until the sight of him starts blurrying in front of you. His fingers reach yours, his thumb comforting on your skin. "____, it's okay-"

"I'm not done yet." you sniffle, gathering enough courage to continue. "I brought you a lemon sherbet because you said it was your favourite. But you also implied I was your favourite, and I want to keep being you favourite, but now it's already melted and-"

The corners of Jungkook's lips start pulling upward as he tugs you towards him, his heart loudly jumping inside his chest. "Shhh, come here."

He takes the ice cream from your hand and places it on his desk. Then he's helping you onto his lap, your head tucked under his chin and your arms wapping on their own around his neck.

He doesn't care about your sticky fingers or the wet stains of your tears in his shirt. The only thing he cares about is the fact that you're right there, letting him engulf your frame and drown in the scent and warmth he'd misses so much.

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The first day of June has Jungkook sweating and wishing for a haircut. Jungkook usually hates summer. He hates the fact that he has to shower at least twice a day, and the fact that the heat is almost unbearable to sleep in and also the fact that he's easily sunburnt.

This year, however, Jungkook likes summer a little bit more.

"Excuse me, miss. Do you have an appointment?" it's the fact that you're starting to wear those summer dresses he loves so much, and the fact that your skin glows under the sun like glitter, and also the fact that he can lick ice cream off of it whenever he desires.

"I am the appointment." your giggle is almost childlike, playing with Jungkook's heart strings. You shut the door behind you, nearing him. You also seem to always have that flush on your cheeks. Although he likes to think part of it is due to him. He doesn't say anything else as he puts his pencil down and instead turns around in the chair to have you immediately on top of his thighs.

Yeah, he also likes the path your lips trace from his cheek, to his jaw, ending at the juncture between his neck and his shoulder. It still makes his body quaver to this day.

"Let me see." he murmurs against you forhear, his hand already working on unbottoning the front of your dress.

"Mijoo hasn't left yet." you whisper back, your smile impossible to supress and the faint whimper impossible to hide when his fingers expose your breast and tug at the titanium barbell adorning the already hardened nub.

Jungkook loves knowing he was the one to do that, and also the only one to play with it. He doesn't hesitate when he dips his head. "As if we'd ever cared about that." he adds, wrapping your sole point in his mouth.

He fucks you on his studio table with your legs around his waist and his tongue playing with both your breasts, the tattoo sketches long forgotten, scattered on the floor as he whispers against your flesh something that sounds a lot like 'I love you'.

#jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook smut #bts fanfic #jungkook angst #jungkook x reader #bts #bts fic #bts smut #jungkook fic

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ashwhowrites · 2 years ago

Text

Back with more Fletcher!

( I have around 11 fics in my drafts right now and most are requests so I promise I am writing them. I just want to make sure you guys are getting my best work so I can only write them when I feel motivated. Thank you so much for your patience. Here's an angst fic to hopefully hold you over!)

Master-list

It's like, being on the outside of an inside joke

It's like, when they only got Pepsi and you really want Coke

It's like, finally get a text back and it's just your mom

It's like, when you just broke up and they play your song

… I know I said it's kinda stupid

But it's just the way I'm feeling right now

And I hate that I can tell that someone's probably in my shoes

By now, right now

Y/N hated the fact that whenever her phone went off, she prayed it was him. only to feel the sting of bitterness when it was just her mom.

She hated it even more when she sat at a bar, trying to move on with the cute guy next to her, and their old song played. The feeling of bitterness sets in her bones, and she feels the need to escape immediately.

He had no problem replacing her by this point.Some girl in a tight dress was probably moaning his name. Anyone could easily be filling her shoes, and she fucking hated it.

I know she thinkin' now she found herself a winner

I know you fucked her on the counter

Right before you cooked her dinner, yeah

I know you think about me when you kiss her

I left a taste in your mouth, can she taste me now?

That you threw out all our furniture and pictures

I bet you sugarcoat the truth, I bet you're real sweet with her, yeah

I know you think about me when you kiss her

I left a taste in your mouth, can she taste me now?

I'm bitter

… I'm bitter, I'm bitter, I'm bitter, I'm bitter

She could just imagine the girl thinking she had found herself a winner. He probably was fucking his new girl on the same counter he used to fuck her on, right before they cooked dinner. He probably made the same joke about needing an appetizer before the main meal.

His body may be moving on, but she knows his mind hasn't. She wasn't that easy to leave behind, like he had hoped. She knew that even as he kissed his new girl, flashes of her face were popping up, reminding him of what he had chosen to lose. She made sure to leave a taste of herself in his mouth. something to constantly be reminded of their love. She knew that her taste overpowered this new girl's tongue. He may be kissing someone new, but he is still tasting her. She hoped this new girl could taste her too.

He probably threw out every picture of them together and bought all new furniture. There's nothing to show where their love used to be. She can just imagine how he's so sweet with his new girl. probably sugarcoating all of his issues.

She was bitter, and she hoped they fucking knew it.

Hearing 'bout your new life and a brand new you

It's like, heard you got a new job but I heard you moved

It's like, I don't wanna hear it, don't wanna hear 'bout you

It's like I don't give a fuck

Yeah, I do

She heard all about the new Eddie Munson. The rockstar, the heartbreaker, and every girl's wet dream He wasn't the old boy she fell in love with. He didn't live in a trailer park anymore. He didn't get excited over the little things. He was new now. And the new him didn't have room for her anymore.

She heard he moved out to California, heading straight to the record labels. She knew he'd always find time to leave; he hated everything in this town, including her.

She doesn't want to hear anything about him. She hates hearing his name, his music, and all about how his life is so much better without her.

But a part of her did want to hear it because she still gave a fuck.

You're still in my head but

You're not in my bed now

He was fucking everywhere but where she wanted him the most. He lives in her head but his side of the bed stays empty. She wished when he walked out, he took the memory of them with him.

Oh, you know I'm bitter

(I'm bitter, I'm bitter, I'm bitter)

He gets to live out his dream with no baggage left behind. No care in the world for the plans they made together.

He got to live freely and she is stuck in the past. And for that- she was bitter.

Tags

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson

@sage-the-z0mbie @michaelfuckinglangdon

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson angst #eddie stranger things #eddie munson angst x reader #eddie x y/n #eddie munson x female reader #Spotify

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the-slasher-madame · 2 years ago

Text

Bo Sinclair Angst//Comfort

Well gang, this might be a bit of a doozy. I’m not the only one, and it ain’t all that big a deal, but there’s definitely stuff that people have said/done that sticks with me and I believe is a little traumatizing. One of those memories has been bouncing in my head, so I thought I’d write what I wish could’ve happened, or just a way I’d like to be comforted. I still have troubles like, I guess properly giving credit to this kind of stuff. Like I call it sugarcoating, I just tend to underexaggerate stuff to protect people’s feelings or keep them out of trouble (them being my parents) and I do not support comparing trauma but I know this stuff isn’t as up there as what other people have experienced. Either way, it hurt, and I’m still trying to think through different thoughts and feelings I have. So there’s my piece of vulnerability for the day, and this is a way I’m trying to learn to use to help work through some of this <3

TW/Notes: heavy content, Bo being aggressive and scary, reader remembering stuff from their past, angst then comfort, fluffy ending, kind of a panic response/anxiety attack sort of deal, Bo yells at reader, gender neutral reader, reader likes stuffed animals, canon typical violence, as always let me know if I missed something

Also while this is based on a memory, it wasn’t quite as intense as this story

// Shit shit shit shit. The victims that ran through Ambrose today had been a lot to handle. Almost too much, but only almost. They had started by being rude to Lester, commenting on his appearance, his job, and his truck decorations. He’d given Bo a look when dropping off the tourists that had told your lover everything he needed to know. Despite his personal feelings, he tried to pour on the charm, but the group was just as snobbish to him as they were to his brother. Bo managed to get some of them to head towards the wax museum, taking care of the one that remained at the stations before radioing towards Vincent. All hell broke loose from there, and this group of asshats put up a fight. You had been in Ambrose long enough to form an attachment to the brothers, particularly Bo, and once the carnage started he always made sure you were safe in the house while he took care of the dirty work. You’d paced while the twins took care of their latest victims, but Bo absolutely hated whenever they got a group that tried to fight back. Sure, he loved a good struggle, but this group had gotten a couple of scratches and kicks in which only pissed him off beyond belief. You loved him, but you knew exactly how short his temper was. He’d yelled at you before, lashed at you with his rage when he couldn’t hold it anymore, but he tried his best to spare you from all that. He remembered how it felt getting yelled at as a child over nothing, and he knew you were a sensitive individual. He actually loved that about you, how emotional you were and how honest you were about it. But...it wasn’t always best when it came to his volatile anger.

You were sitting at the kitchen table, the slightly yellowed lights above you keeping you company with their constant hum as you sipped at your water. Night had fallen maybe an hour ago, maybe two: long enough that you were beginning to worry more than usual. You almost dropped your mug when the front screen door banged open and slammed shut, all the while with your lover letting out curse after curse. You set your mug down carefully on the table, starting to shake with the anxiety that sprung from Bo’s anger. You never delt with other people’s anger very well, especially when it came to those that were intimidating in their rage. Your head was lowered, staring at the mug grasped between your trembling hands. Bo stormed through the kitchen, heading straight to the fridge and it made you jump again. You hoped he hadn’t noticed, especially as your anxiety grew. Oh, he had unfortunately noticed. Bo was already in a foul mode, and he didn’t want to have to worry after you (and he felt guilty that you looked so shaken, knowing he’d done that to you).

“The fuck you lookin like that fer? I just walked through my own goddamn kitchen,” he hissed at you from his place next to the fridge, a beer already retrieved and held to his lips. You looked up at him, quickly moving your eyes back to your hands that had retreated into your lap. He didn’t like this, feeling like you were ignoring him and his rage was reaching a breaking point. Bo’s voice started barking out to you, getting louder and more aggressive as he went on, “fuck off, it’s not like you do a goddamned thing around here. YOU CAN’T EVEN FUCKING LOOK AT ME HUH? BRAT, I’LL FUCKIN SHOW YA-” He pushed away from the counter, his bottle left on the countertop. Whatever courage you had fled when you saw him move, and you were thrown back to a memory of your father, one you had been thinking about for the last few days. He never beat you per say, but you had been spanked a fair amount as a child and had more than a fair share of arguments and fights from your parents. It left a lot for you to work through, but you were trying. You were trying for Bo, just as you knew he tried to be more patient for you.

All that was gone from your mind as adrenaline pulsed through you, feeling more like pure fear racing through your arteries. Coherent and reasonable thought left you, sending you into fight-or-flight mode. Your body chose flight, and you quickly scooted out of your chair to shove it in Bo’s path before darting out of the room. You were starting up the stairs while he moved the chair aside, swearing at you. You knew, you knew that he wouldn’t hurt you, but all you could feel was fear. Your mind was sticky with it, heightening your senses while dulling your thoughts. He was moving after you, fast, his mind still on the idea of a chase. He didn’t even know what he was chasing you for, you had run and he had followed on instincts left over from the previous activities of the night. You were jumping off the top step towards the hallway while Bo was halfway up, sweating and trying to gain on you. Your body somehow found a way to push forth another burst of speed, racing forward and lunging into the guestroom and shoving it closed. You locked the door and ran to hide under the desk in the room, a place you had taken to using as a studio for your own crafts. You never really knew why, but you tended to like hiding under desks and the likes when you were distressed (though it was most definitely an unconscious decision at the moment).

You had your hands over your ears (another default position of yours) and were shaking worse now than you had before. Bo slammed in the door, hard, cursing more as he tried to shake the handle open. Each word, each shake of the door made you sink in on yourself, and your heart was beating like you were in a horror movie. The banging stopped as Bo’s footsteps stomped off, and you took a few deep breathes that almost started to take the fog out of your mind; however, Bo was starting to bang back towards the room, and you swear your heart stopped when you heard the lock click. Fuck how could you forget he had a key to every room in his room? You shrieked when the door opened, and tried to shove yourself harder under the desk. Bo stopped for a moment, still seething, but that’s when he started to notice exactly how bad you were freaking out. He turned towards you and your desk, and you let out that horrible shriek again. It was pure pain, animalistic fear. Bo hadn’t heard that sound from you since you first came to Ambrose, and it stopped his rage in its tracks. He ducked to get a glimpse at you under the desk, and you started sobbing loudly. You’d had tears falling down your face since you had made it under the desk, and the whimpering had started as soon as the first scream had died on your lips. You saw him peering under the desk and you were sobbing, really sobbing. You tried to quiet down, whimpering out apologies to him about the noise and whatever had happened, but what really hurt him was hearing you say, “please don’t hurt me, I’m so sorry.”

You were still trying to back yourself further into the wall, and Bo started to worry you’d end up making a hole in the drywall from how hard you were moving into it. With his anger evaporated and replaced with guilt, Bo backed away slowly and left the room to gather some supplies to try and calm you down. He hurried back down the stairs to grab a water bottle, then went back up to stop by your shared bedroom. He knew how much you loved your stuffies, how comforting they were to you, and grabbed two of you favorites: one that you had said was the perfect cuddle shape before, and one that held sentimental value to you. You were almost hyperventilating when he returned to the room, and your sobs picked up again as he moved past the desk. He sat about a [meter/yard] away from you on the floor, settling in to try and calm you down before you passed out. Bo had seen you have an anxiety attack before and thus had an idea of what to do, and he couldn’t even begin to think about exactly how guilty he felt that he had caused one. Bo loved you and trusted you, he’d accepted you as a Sinclair and sworn to protect you like one. His heart ached hearing your small wails and soft screams.

He sat there a few minutes, letting you adjust to his presence in the room. When your cries had slowed somewhat, he slowly slide your cuddly stuffie towards you, figuring you would need something to hold on to and ground yourself with. He was right, and you gripped the thing like a lifeline. He stayed where he was, watching your breathing slow ever so slightly. He started inching his way closer when he determined that your breathing was steadier and that you were now just crying instead of those gut-wrenching wails of fear. Your eyes locked on him, but you were regaining some sense of control over your own mind again and thus let him approach. However, you did not move to greet him, you were still wary of what might come next, your anxious side telling you to still be alert. Bo finally reached the desk, still sitting with you on the ground. He stayed still for a few minutes, once again letting you get used to his company. He felt relieved when your muscles relaxed, and slowly slid under the desk with you.

“Hey doll,” his voice let out softly, “could we maybe move out from under here? Can’t be comfortable sittin all cramped up like that.” You thought a second before nodding, and he started to move back out. You followed him, reappearing from your safe spot under the desk. The two of y’all were still sitting close together has Bo whispered to you once again: “Come ‘er darlin, it’s ok. Just let me hold you alrigh?” You nodded again and almost launched yourself into him, curling up in his lap. You had your one stuffie under your arm, and he placed the last one between the both of y’all’s chests before encircling you with his arms. Time passed like that, him crooning to you all the while.

Eventually you were back in control of yourself completely, and you too started to feel a bit guilty. You hated when you reacted badly to anything, when you got pulled in to a dark pit and felt like you were overreacting when you came out of it. You looked up to his eyes and started with, “I’m sorry Bo, I shouldn’t’ve-” “Hush darlin, it’s alrigh, I shouldn’t a run after ya like that. Shouldn’t a yelled at ya either,” he interjected, knowing exactly where you were heading with this. “But I-” “Nope, you jus reacted, an tha’s ok. I promise I’ll do better, yea? Ain’t gonna scare ya like that again, I promise,” he said, trying to reassure you that this was not something you needed to feel bad for, and that he would fix it. He would not let this happen again, he cared too much for you. Truth be told, he worried about you most of the time. He knew some of the things you had struggled with in the past, and he was terrified by the thought of losing you to them.

You leaned back into his chest, too tired to keep going with this train of conversation. Bo placed his arms around you so that he could carry you to bed. He sat you down, made you take a drink, and tucked you in carefully. He tugged off his boots and hat, climbing in to bed to hold you close to his chest (he was fond of being the big spoon, he felt like he had a living stuffed animal to hold and take care of). You fell asleep fast, drained from the wave of adrenaline and the emotional turmoil that had come with it. He placed kisses along your neck and behind your ear sporadically, almost as if he was trying to remind himself you were here. Vincent peeked his head in the door after you had fallen asleep, looking directly at his twin. Bo raised his hand to fingerspell ‘later,’ dropping it back to hold you around your waist. You turned over to nuzzle into his chest, stuffies still held tight in your arms. Vincent gave one last look before moving on to whatever he needed to do, and Bo eventually fell asleep looking at your face, swearing to show you how much he treasured you.

- Alrighty finite. This was more intense than the memory I have I think, I only remember getting in an argument with my dad and he chased after me to spank me. Not great, but could be a helluva lot worse. I want Bo Sinclair so bad, I just want him to sit and comfort me and hand me stuffies. Anyways, I hope y’all enjoy my late night angst/comfort lol

#slashers #slasher fucker #slasher lover #slasher x reader #bo sinclair #bo sinclair x reader #bo sinclair angst #bo sinclair angst/comfort #lil bit a therapy oops #i have been to therapy but we mostly worked on my anxiety and depression and self esteem issues #slasher angst #slasher hurt comfort #I love the sinclairs #my lil bo angst/comfort fic

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cahmilo · 2 years ago

Text

Ending Page ⁠— camilo m.

summary: not all stories end happily. oftentimes even the most popular fairytales are sugarcoated, the true dark endings are hidden underneath the flutter of the heart to fool even the most oblivious and in this story, camilo madrigal takes the hit as the ending page of his fairytale unfolds right in front of his eyes.

pairing: camilo madrigal x female reader genre: fluff to angst tags: 3.9 wc, requested, one sided love, childhood friends to strangers, cussing

a/n: icb its been a week and i come back with angst lmfao sorry yall

"So that's it? That's the ending page?"

A young boy raised up the book and flipped the page frantically, browsing each and every piece of paper before he's met with a blank page before the hard cover, "The princess doesn't even meet the prince at all?"

"Maybe there's another book to continue, Camilo" A younger girl from across him sighs as she fixed the book that got messed up. The boy, Camilo, exhales rather deeply. He stood up to look at Y/N, the little girl who was rather cozy on the floor, flipping the pages of the now-fixed book.

"Oh!" She squealed, "What if we make our own ending? Like, after the princess escapes from the dark bubble—" she pointed to the illustration, "She goes back to her horse and meets the prince in the castle?"

Camilo's eyes widened brightly, "That's perfect! Then they would get married and they become King and Queen!"

The two kids cheered in laughter, jumping up and down as their creative minds cleared up a missing fairytale that they couldn't understand. Though it seemed unclear on what the story offers, two 5-year olds don't even seem to bother when they can make up their own. In the mind of a growing child, imagination runs wild and in this case, Camilo is the one with lots to offer.

"Your gift ceremony is tomorrow, what do you think your gift will be?" Y/N asked enthusiastically, her words slurred but all understood for the boy in the yellow ruana.

"I can't tell" Camilo answered her, "But I want to have the gift where I could be anything and anyone!"

"You could be a prince! A prince with fire powers!" The girl cheered. Camilo smiled and changed character, suddenly standing straight up to act elegant. He held out his hand for her.

"If I could be the prince, you will be the princess" He spoke with an accent. Y/N giggled at his theatrical demeanor, standing up as well to do a curtsy. But before she was able to speak, a voice of a woman interrupts their moment.

"Camilo, it's time to go home now" Pepa, Camilo's mother entered the library, bringing her own book with her. Immediately Camilo's shoulders dropped and he pouted to Y/N.

"But it's still early!" The little boy whined in a rather loud voice.

Pepa hushed him immediately, giving a coy smile to Y/N who was looking at them. "You will see her at your gift ceremony, right niñita?

"Yep!" Y/N gave a toothy grin before she ran to Camilo and gave him a big hug. Pulling away, she said to him,

"Goodbye, my prince!"

—

Camilo was definitely the happiest during his gift ceremony. After the door revealed that his new gift was shapeshifting, he was over the moon. Like the outgoing and mischievous 5-year old kid that he was, he almost used up all his energy randomly transforming into different people the entire night. Not that it didn't bother anyone, all of them cheered at how fitting the gift was for a child as imaginative as Camilo. But after all the 'congratulations' he got from the people, there was one person he needed to see to show his gift to.

"Y/N!" Camilo repeatedly called out to her after he caught sight of the girl he was looking for. Turns out, she was at the Casita's dining area, stuffing her cheeks with more arepas thinking no one would notice. When the familiar call of the little boy was heard, she dropped everything to run to him.

"Camilo!" Y/N screamed, "You're a spashesifter!"

Too much happiness made her stumble upon her words. Camilo laughed too, he still couldn't name his own powers well. The two kids got their own tongues tied trying to pronounce the gift Camilo received.

"Y/N, look!" Camilo pulled away from the hug and dramatically spun his body, he shapeshifted into himself, but with a more fancy royal get-up, "I can be the prince now!" It was the power of his imagination that made it possible, though he never saw a prince in real life, his imagery was almost spot-on. Y/N now looked at his shifted form in awe.

"I wish I could be a princess" She trailed off sadly. Camilo jumped in front of her and called to her attention.

"You can! Look!" With the sudden dramatic swipe of his ruana, Camilo spun and shapeshifted into her. Y/N couldn't believe her eyes, there was an exact replica of her. She reached out to touch Camilo's face in her image, but he wasn't done with the transformation. Another spin and he shifted into the same girl, but now with a sparkling dress. It was Isabela's dress, the prettiest one Camilo could think of.

"See?" He beamed at her, "This is what you look like if you're a princess!"

The little girl laughed in awe, "I look beautiful!" Camilo smiled before he shapeshifted back to his original figure and said,

"You're always beautiful, Y/N!"

—

You're always beautiful, Y/N.

Camilo thought to himself. It was the same words he said to her since they were kids. Now he's a teenager, but he never stopping thinking about her. Camilo stood before his mirror, only that the reflection didn't show himself but rather, a shapeshifted image of Y/N. Obviously she looked more older, her features became more defined and mature. The same image Camilo loved to see everyday, from the earliest of dawn to the latest of dusk. From a pretty kid, Y/N grew into an attractive woman.

To Camilo, her beauty never changed. He still found Y/N a beautiful princess he wants to have. Now that he's older, his feelings became clearer. It wasn't puppy love anymore, nor a small crush, he was in love.

A rather harsh knock in his door interrupted his daydream. In panic he stumbled upon his feet, shapeshifting frantically back to himself. Camilo was alarmed, he recognized that pattern of knocking and he knew that him being seen in his her form staring at it in the mirror is that last thing he would want to be seen in.

"You're late!" A cheerful voice burst into his door. Camilo sneakily leaned on the mirror, acting as if he was fixing the strands of his curly hair. In the back of his reflection he could see Y/N jump to his bed whining, "I waited for so long, even Casita got impatient and dragged me here!"

Camilo let out a chuckle hiding his face while he did so. Y/N was slightly annoyed, but nothing to be worried about. She was too oblivious to notice from Camilo's lovesick grin that the thoughts of her in his head was the one that made him lose track of time. While Camilo knew he was sure of his feelings for Y/N, he wasn't confident that she felt the same. Sure, there were signs, but the back of Camilo's head was constantly reminding him that he might have misread a few signs. The last thing he would want is for his friendship with Y/N to be broken just by his feelings that seemed to grow more as he kept spending time with her.

The boy glanced at the girl that kept his heart at ease, and just from her smile, it felt like he was walking in the cotton skies of cloud 9. There was color, bright and vibrant like the fluttering of his heart. It felt like he was in Euphoria when all she did was just show her presence in the same room as him. Of course as much as he wanted to, he would never admit to it, at least not now. He could only widen his smile at her, and lovingly think to his head,

I love you, Y/N.

—

"I love you, Y/N."

The very words he thought to his head 2 years ago. This time, Camilo found the courage to say it out loud, in front of her in the grassy flower field just before the sun set. Y/N was over the moon and was just as happy as he is. Her smile brightened even more as she ran to his arms and repeated the same "I love you's" which made Camilo's heart pound louder, once with uncertainty, but now with ease. The moment felt like a dream he never wanted to wake up from.

"You don't know how long I've been wanting to say this to you" Camilo pulled away but kept a firm grip on her waist, facing her with such teary eyes and a wide grin that he could no longer hide. Y/N smiled back and shyly looked away, "Me too, Cami. I was only waiting to see if you felt the same.."

"Are you kidding me?" Camilo exclaimed with wide eyes, "You mean, all this time, we could have been together if I just wasn't so dense and cowardly?"

Y/N laughed as she brushed a strand of curly hair that covered Camilo's green eyes. She cupped the side of his jaw and stared deep into his eyes as she started to giggle, "Dummy, I was just as dense and cowardly as you!"

Camilo soon laughed along with her before he spun her around and slowly swayed her along the direction of the cold breeze of the wind. It was a perfect moment, the sky was golden, the birds were singing, the flowers were blooming, and their hearts were fluttering. Like a perfectly captured painting, Camilo hoped that this image would remain in his memories forever.

They danced along the wide grassy field to their heart's content. Camilo felt like he was the happiest man in the world. Who knew that one day, he would get his princess? And it wasn't just any princess. It was his long time princess, the girl that he had admired since they were kids. The girl he read fairytales with. The girl he was so certain, he would spend the rest of his life with.

Now that he was hers and she was his, Camilo practically leaped off the moon and rode along the shooting star that made his dream come true. Finally, he can dance alone with her, he can wake up to the sight of her, he can hold and kiss the back of her palm and most importantly, he can sleep soundly at night knowing that his heart was well rested now that he was reassured that all the anxious loud pounding and fluttering was worth it.

Before the sun bids goodbye, Camilo leaned close to Y/N's figure. Foreheads leaning and his nose brushed against hers. As he was just about to seal a loving kiss that he had been longing for, he softly whispered to her,

"I'll never let you go."

—

I'll never let you go.

The same words echo in Camilo's mind like a broken record. He didn't complain, he wanted it to last forever. Four years have gone by since he asked Y/N to be his, and his life has never been brighter. He looked forward to everyday to see her. At one of the times of the day where he has all the hours for himself, he decided to reminisce his long time memories with her as he opened a large box that contained tidbits of core memories he wanted to cherish for the rest of his life.

A dusty old story book finds itself on his hands. Suddenly like a flashback, all the childhood memories came falling back. Camilo smiled in glee as he blew away the spare dust to view the cover page better. It was the same fairytale that Y/N and him read and wrote together. It has been 20 years, yet they still haven't found the original ending of the prince and the princess, simply because he lost the will to do it. The ending that she and him came up with was already better than what the author could possibly think of. Camilo carefully flipped the page till the end, a light giggle escapes his lips upon seeing taped paper and childish doodles. It was Y/N and his planned ending for the two characters, the prince and the princess. Y/N drew them being married while Camilo drew them as a family in the next page.

He reached out to his pocket and grabbed a velvet box. Camilo's smile widened. Who knew that the story tale that they had been longing for was starting to unfold beautifully in his eyes in real life? He opened the box and immediately, the shimmer of the bright jewel glowed brighter as it hit the rays of the sun. Camilo picked up the ring, the engagement ring, and held it up to gaze at it lovingly,

"Soon, we'll be official"

—

"Soon, we'll be official!"

Y/N cheered brightly as she giggled to her friends, her loud voice echoing throughout the street. She was catching up with her best friends and flaunting to them about her getting to capture a Madrigal's heart and soon become a member of the beloved and well-respected family. But unbeknownst to her, her own lover was by the shadows of the nearby home, dragged unwillingly by his own sister with the gifts of super hearing.

"We shouldn't be spying on her" Camilo trailed off, "It's strange"

"What's strange is what I heard last night." Dolores, his sister, softly commented. "It's beyond what I ever imagined. I didn't want to tell you through me, but instead I want you to hear it from her as soon as ever."

Camilo crossed his eyebrows, weirded out by the behavior of his sister. "What do you mean?"

"You'll find out. I'll be back at the Casita if you need me" Dolores sighed, and gave her younger brother a sudden hug, "I'm sorry, 'milo."

Dolores suddenly bolted away sneakily, leaving an oblivious but curious Camilo. He didn't know what was happening, but it certainly wasn't the way he thought it would.

Y/N once again laughed that brought back his attention. She was crossing her legs and eating an arepa while oddly talking loud with her friends.

"You'll be a Madrigal soon!" Her friend told her. Y/N smiled even brighter, "I know! Just imagine me, Y/N Madrigal! Has a nice ring to it right?"

"It is, but are you willing to throw the rest of your life away just for—" Her other friend paused and looked around before finishing her sentence "—him?"

Him?

Camilo thought to himself and listened further, but it wasn't too clear on his ears. After a long debate with his conscience, he decided to shapeshift into a random villager and walked nearer to where Y/N was at.

"Please, Camilo is too in love with me to realize it" Y/N cockily argued, taking a bite out of her snack, "Plus, he's good at teaching acting. The entire time it really looks like I loved him back!"

"I know! At one point I actually thought you weren't faking it. But, did you ever have feelings for him?" Her friend asked.

"Never, why would I ever fall for him?" Y/N snorted out another obnoxious laugh, "I'm perfectly fine with just keeping my act anyways, I'm almost certain he's gonna ask to marry me soon. Once I'm wed to their family I'll be a Madrigal and show it off to everyone who doubted me"

Camilo choked out a sob. He couldn't take it anymore. Every word that comes out her mouth shoots daggers straight at his once fluttering heart. Now, anger overtook the feeling flowing in his veins. He couldn't dare to stand longer just hearing her backstab him and his family for longer so he ran away in such a fast pace that even he couldn't bother to notice.

Once he was out of their sight, he shapeshifted back to himself and let the tears flow before running back to the Casita, in his room. He jumped on to his bed and cried his eyes out. A glimpse of the box in the corner of his eye caught his attention. The souvenirs he stored, the memories he kept, he muttered to himself stuttering in tears,

"Was I a fool all along?"

—

"Was I the fool all along?!"

Camilo yelled at Y/N, something he had never done before. He was agitated, furious, and not to mention pissed. The fact that the girl he once loved, the girl he cared about, the girl he dreamed to spend the rest of his life with, was standing still innocently at his doorframe, putting on an innocent face as if nothing was wrong.

"What do you mean?" Y/N asked innocently, tilting her head in 'confusion', "Amor—"

"Dont amor me, Y/N. You know damn fucking well what I'm talking about!" Camilo screamed from his bed, standing up to throw a pillow down the ground in anger. He reached out for the roots of his curls and shouted loudly. Y/N just stood there, almost as if she was frozen on what else to do. She has never seen Camilo this upset, and it was because of her.

It took a few seconds for Camilo to regain his composure, standing back up and wiping the tears of his eyes aggressively. He looked broken, out of it, it was evident that this was turning into a scar that was hard to heal. Heck, even Y/N felt bad for once.

"Tell me," Camilo choked out in a sob, "Was any of 'us' real to you?"

Camilo stared at her eyes, his glassy and blurry sight was nothing compared to Y/N's clear cold look. He hoped that at least, she would say yes. Please, let me know if you felt something at one point. He repeated to himself. Hoping for at least her making up a lie just to salvage the remaining bits of his shattering heart. But,

"No." Y/N said honestly. She looked guilty, looking down at her foot that was tapping nervously. Where was the cocky girl he was too blind to see? Is she pitying herself as another act again? Or is she honestly remorseful?

"Camilo—" She exclaimed, "Let me explain"

"There's no need to." Camilo coldly said, for the first time. He was always soft spoken to her, now it all changed, "Leave, and never show yourself to me and my family ever again."

Could she just leave before he makes a fuss about it again? Y/N barely moved a heel. She stayed there, not listening to him.

"It was all a misunderstanding!" Y/N yelled out firmly, attempting to step closer to him.

"Don't come near me!" Camilo yelled out furiously, a hand slamming on his nightstand that made a loud noise that startled her. As much as he wanted to, Camilo wouldn't want to release his anger at her. He didn't want to lash out like this, but he couldn't help it. He wanted her to run to his arms and hope that this was all a nightmare, but no. The pain he physically felt unfortunately told him that it was actually happening. The least he could do is stay farther away from her. Because even if he was furious at her, he would never dare hurt her physically. He could only stare at her eyes. Y/N was speechless, her face barely had any emotion in it which all the more angered him.

"I was such a fucking idiot, to think that it was real?" He rambled out with sniffles, "Every moment, every story, every kiss, every dance, every promise, it was all an act by you! And for what? To soon marry into the family? To mess with my head only for the family name? Do you know how fucked up that sounds?!"

"And the fact that I didn't hear it by my own, my sister had to tell me because God forbid, I mistook the signs that you actually loved me back!" He raised his hands, mockingly. "You were my friend, Y/N! I knew you well since we were little, never did I once make you sad, angry even and here you are doing the opposite the entire time! Did everything mean nothing to you? Because for me, it didn't! Even the most out of nothing was everything to me. Turns out, it was the other way around in your side!"

"Camil—"

"I hoped you'd say yes." He cut her off. "I hoped that at least one of our memories meant something to you, but I guess it didn't"

Y/N stood quiet. Her hands fiddled with each other a she avoided his eyes. For the first time, Camilo stared at her with anger. His heart fluttered, but this time, with displeasure. There was adrenaline, but it was from rage. Days and years he prayed that this day wouldn't come, but to his dismay, it had to unfold.

"Leave and never come back." He coldly spat out. This time, Y/N finally listened, heavily walking outside his door and harshly slamming it, but Camilo didn't flinch.

Once she was out of his sight, Camilo started bawling out in tears. His breath staggered, shoulders shaking up and down while he tried to let it all out. He was heartbroken, devastated. As much as it hurt him, the look of her unfazed gaze was all he could think of. Camilo couldn't decipher it anymore. All the moments they shared basically meant nothing to her. But it was everything to him. He looked back at the box and heavily walked to it. He sat on the floor and harshly opened the box.

The fairytale book.

Was he a fool? That he dreamt of the ending that she made for him? That they were gonna get married together? Camilo thought it would happen that way, but Y/N had a much more different motive to it. Like the fairytale, Camilo wished he married her and start a loving family. But Y/N wished he married her so she can become a Madrigal, a family of high status that was well-respected by the community. How foolish of he that the hoped it would turn out the way he wanted it to?

Maybe he should have just looked for the original ending back then. Maybe he shouldn't have listened to her make up the ending in the first place. Camilo wanted to go back as a kid, to slap his past self for being so naïve, so open-minded, so carefree. The fairytale that he treasured, the story he hoped would turn out like his life, was now turning for the worst. He wished that the story stopped there, wishing that the princess never even met the prince after being cursed by the witch. He wished that he didn't meet Y/N at all. He wished that he never stumbled upon the library then, maybe in that way, he would have had his happy ending.

"So this is it?" He chuckled out a bittersweet laugh to himself,

"This is our ending page?"

taglist: @pochi-moochika, @carlosfruitsnacks, @thegirlwiththebangs, @mirabelleza, @carcat-02, @brushofease, @camilos-luna, @ducky-is-dead-inside, @elegantkidfansoul, @moon-cakiie, @justicehasaproblem, @nerdish-simp, @justzei, @try-cry-why-try, @kuhmeelo, @asockyoulostbeforelaundry, @alexxavicry, @ashirtyouforgotyouhad, @khayhuij

masterlist | taglist | gif source

#encanto #camilo madrigal #camilo x reader #camilo supremacy #camilo my beloved #cahmi fics #Spotify

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tomatoswup · 2 years ago

Text

phone calls

summary: two old rotary phones begin the connection between two souls. One from the past and another from the future.

warnings: angst, literally angst, sad vash :(, hurt/comfort but its not the comfort you think it is. kinda more like an acceptance comfort

pairing:vash x reader

-inspired by the movie "The Lake House"

A/N: am i a fiend for writing angst? yes. do I like reading it? NOPE. wanted to get this out before I hustled on school work hehe. But fun fact this was originally longer but I rewrote and condensed it b/c I thought it was too long for just a one shot lost media typa beat. honestly i don't think i wrote this right but fuck it we ball. I recommend reading this with the saddest song you have bookmarked. Enjoy!~

"Hmmm...Well you got some personality to you.” You mumbled, staring at the old red vintage rotary phone sitting in front of you. How did you come to achieve this old relic of time? Well in short terms, you liked to think about it like an equation.

Old attic + mischievous white cat = you adventuring to go find said cat and to your dismay, said cat scares the living ever hell out of you making you lose balance and fall backwards into endless towers of boxes.

Fun times right?

Those bruises weren't gonna be….

But that was the least of your problems at the moment. As expected, the rotary phone suddenly started to ring, shaking and clicking in itself, making you sigh in disappointment. Grabbing the phone, you yanked it up to your ear “Hey, yeah I don’t think this is gonna work.” You deadpanned “Now we know that we're always gonna be connected, what is this? The 5th time?"

"Damn and I thought you hanging up would’ve solved the problem. I don't think we could connect with anyone else though! I asked the farmer about it and he had no idea!" Chirped the male on the other side of the line.

Of course! It sounded like a normal conversation between two individuals but even Einstein himself would've been baffled at these circumstances. Imagine this, you find an old phone and you had been playfully talking into it until a voice actually responds without it being connected. Strange right? And no, you were sure you hadn't been seeing any strange figures on the sides of your vision.

Now here you were, trying to figure out what the fuck was going on alongside the man who had introduced himself as Vash The Stampede.

"21st century my ass, Google isn't doing shit!"

"Wait hold on now, did you just say 21st?"

"Yeah? Something wrong?"

"Uh well.. It's just that its actually the 32nd century."

You blink a few times "No, it's not. My calender literally says it's the 21st century. It's general knowledge."

"No I'm pretty sure its the 32nd century!" Vash snapped back.

Silence filled the air on both sides.

"WAIT A MINUTE-"

And thats how the unknown man from the future and you hit it off.

After this discovery, the two of you talked on the phone for a while, sharing things about each of your own time periods. And you slowly found yourself enjoying the conversations you would have with Vash who you soon found out, was pretty goofy in his own way, but kind. And unknowingly, Vash felt the same way.

What was an accidental and odd situation turned into practically an everyday thing for the both of you now.

After work, you always looked forwards to that red phone on your nightstand until one day, you decided to decorate it with cute little stickers because why not?

After all, it was fasinating to hear things about the future. Sometimes you'd laugh at the way Vash described it, like something out of an old wild west movie.

"It's all just desert! Really!" He groaned out as you chuckled, holding the phone to your ear with your shoulder as you put books and CD's away on your bookshelf "At least you can make some cool sandcastles or something!"

"With what water?"

"Your tears." Snorting, you listen on as he whined through the receiver. "Hey but just imagine me helping you build them! Makes it hurt less."

Vash let out a exaggerating sigh "But seriously, it's not always sunny were you live?" He asked curiously.

"Nope!" You smiled, slipping one of your favorite books into place "It changes every so often really. Depending on the season." You hummed out, looking out the window to your right to see the drenching rain down with its spring showers.

"Season?"

"Sometimes it rains and sometimes it gets super cold. Other days it just gets too hot and if we're lucky, we get days with perfect temperatures. Its never the same but I guess that's the beauty to it here. Every day is a new sight no one could really get tired of. "

Or a new headache.

Vash stayed quiet on the line, and you imagined how he looked like deep in thought. Eyebrows furrowed, his supposed pointy blonde hair messily spread out across his pillow, and eyes as blue as the sky looking up at the ceiling in concentration.

…Okayyy that’s enough out of you.

He didn't say the eye part himself but you liked to ponder on the idea.

"That sounds beautiful.."

And to that, you smiled. "Yeah, it kinda is."

But something in your head made you stop and look down at the book you had in hand, unsure if you wanted to say anything.

"Hey Vash.."

"Yeah?"

"I'm sorry that I'm the only person you could really reach with this thing. I know you really wanted to talk to your friends.."

"Why are you apologizing? It's not everyday I talk to someone from the past! From even before No Mans Land!”

You sigh and slip the final book away to which Vash adds in one more sentence. "And even if you weren't, I like talking to you."

You scoff in good humor "You're lying blonde."

"NO I"M NOT!" Vash gasps out dramatically "Oh how you hurt me so!"

"Hardy har har." You chuckled, shoving a box of things you wanted stored away in the corner of your room. "At least I know I'm speaking to someone as beautiful as the nightsky!" He huffed out trying to sound manlier.

“Yeah? Now how could you tell that?"

"Because I know a pretty and kind soul when I hear it."

E-Excuse me?

Your face flushes red "Alright cowboy are you trying to soften me up?"

"Pftttttt nooooooo~"

Your conversations never ceased to end, and when talking to Vash about practically everything, it felt...comforting. To know there was someone to listen to your struggles, and listen to his own. It felt so intimate.

Sharing about your life on Earth, the things you do and him speaking about his own life and travels around his home planet.

One day, Vash and you had been talking for the night and he mentioned something that gave you a sense of familiarity.

PROJECT SEEDS.

A large project that's been reported on the news for more than a few months now so of course you caught onto that. You've watched their segment on TV before. Something about bringing life to other planets?

You knew the Earth was dying, scientists had announced that someday in the nearing future, the very sun that shone down on you, would destroy you. But did that really matter to you anymore?

The project had been accepting registrations for boarding their new ship incase it happened. Your sister got to register in time but you had been too late. All the slots were filled.

That was a very odd day to say the least.

But that didn't stop you from speaking to Vash.

"Vash, do you ever think you'll see me in the future?" You pondered one night as you were cuddled up in your blankets, the cold being unbearable this winter season.

"Well, I hope so. Sometimes it gets tiring speaking into a thing of metal and plastic hehe.." You could practically hear him playfully grin through the receiver.

You gripped the handle of the phone tight as tears threatened to leave the corner of your eyes.

"I hope I get to see you one day Vash.."

He went quiet for a moment.

"I do too.."

That night, you slept with the phone held to your chest as the fluttering feeling in your stomach never ceased. And you didn't want it to.

Vash had made it a routine to call you every night at exactly midnight to check in on how you were since he couldn't really do it in person either way. And every time he called, it felt as if he heard your voice for the first time all over again. The warmth in his chest made him smile when you answered the phone with the nervous pitch in your voice.

"Vash?"

He found it theraputic to listen as you talked about your day, the normalicy and peace No Man's Land and that his own life had lacked.

Hanging out with friends, reading in libraries, and more.

How he loved it.. Hearing you speak so fondly, so excited, it felt refreshing to Vash.

You were full of life

And Vash wouldn’t trade it for anything.

With every time you spoke his name, he felt like melting into a puddle. He just wanted to hear you repeat his name over and over again, and no, he'll never get tired of it. He could spend an eternity laying in the dusty bed of the farmer’s home just listening to your voice. Listening to your worries, your hopes, and the momentary jokes you would tell him.

But as the days passed, after one full year and a half of the two of you speaking over the old rotary phone, you answered the phone one night with a change clear to Vash. You sounded so weak, so sickly and out of breath.

"Are you alright?" He asked, hearing loud shuffling and things falling on the other line.

"I-I'm fine!" You coughed out as Vash peeked out the old wooden window in the room he was staying in, spotting Wolfwood and the broadcasting girls waiting for him to join them.

"Are you sure?" He breathed out in honest concern, feeling his fingers fiddling with the hem of his sleeve.

"I'm fine Vash, seriously." Your voice weakly echoed through the receiver "Just a little sick, that's all.."

"Please make sure to get some rest okay? I'll ring you when I come back."

"Promise?"

"I promise lov-" Vash caught himself, quickly shutting his mouth.

"Hm?" You hummed out in question.

"Sorry a fly got caught in my throat! Hahaha!" He played off before sighing.

"Take care of yourself, for me okay?"

"I will, I will.." Before Vash put the phone back onto the base, you said one more thing.

"Love you." And with that, the familiar ding of the phone receiver on the other line rang through Vash's ear, signifiying the end of the call.

And Vash was left in utter silence and awe. Love. Love you said. Him?

A fond expression instinctively grew on his face, yet the churning feeling in his stomach wasn't one of butterflies, but one of dread. He couldn't help but leave with the gut feeling that something was wrong.

When Vash returned back to his room and picked up the phone at the same time the two of you would call each other at every day, there was no reponse.

He called your name and no sound came out of the other end. So he put the phone back down onto the base and lifted it back up again to his ear as the same dread slowly seeped into his chest. The room was starting to feel a bit more heavier than usual.

"Hello?" He breathed out nervously as he felt his forehead start to sweat.

"Come on.." He muttered to himself worriedly. Maybe you weren't home in time and had gone to the doctor. Yeah, maybe that's the reason. So Vash left the phone alone for the night for the first time but the prodding feeling in his chest didn't leave.

He tried the next night.

No response.

Maybe you had stayed over your parents' for the day.

He kept the phone by him whilst he napped, waiting for the ring of the phone to wake him up like an alarm, but that didn't come.

He tried the next night, the next night, and continued for the next 3 months until finally.

One night, Vash just stared at the old red phone that hadn’t rung since that day, anticipating at least one final call, one last goodbye from you. Sitting on the bed side, he kept his eyes on the phone until finally Vash couldn’t hold it anymore and cried. Clear waters falling down his cheeks as he tightly held the phone to his chest in desperation.

Did you forget about him?

Did you find the love of your life and decided not to bother with him anymore?

'Come back.'

'Dont leave me please.'

'I love you."

'Please speak to me.'

The string of desparate thoughts ran through his mind as the burning sensation grew in his chest. He can't breathe. He gasped for air as his quiet wails filled the night.

Don't go.

The morning after Vash permanently left the farmer's residence. Of course, he took the phone along too, incase you ever decided to ring back but to Vash's dismay, it never did.

And Vash thought back to you, from time to time, stil wondering if you remembered about the red phone that sat in your room and the idiot blonde on the other side of it.

2 years had passed since that night, and both Vash and the gang found themselves in the city of Augusta for their annual merchant gathering, an event in which all the merchants from around the planet come and trade their valuables or tools in a big, single event.

Crowds of people flooded the streets as the stands were all surrounded to the brim. Vash had been walking beside Wolfwood, who was talking about some bounty hunters causing trouble around when something red caught his eye from an stand that they had walked past, causing Vash to stop in his tracks. Eyes widening in realization, he rushed over to the stall, leaving Wolfwood in the dust.

"H-Hey where are you going!?!" Wolfwood called out but Vash ignored him. His leather clothed hands slammed down on the stall table, the young man who managed the stall yelping in surprise.

"H-HOW CAN I HELP YOU?!" The man nervously shouted out as Vash reached over and picked up a very familiar red rotary phone "Where did you get this!?" He exclaimed in urgency. "How'd you get this!?"

"I-I-" The young man quickly cleared his throat and regained his composure at the sudden burst from the tall blonde-spiked haired man.

"It's a very old device! Back during the old days according to my great-grandmother!"

Vash looked down at the red phone, very dusty but he was able to make out the sticker decorations and doodles that were scattered around on it. Inspecting it more, he turned it around to the back and saw something melancholic.

"12:00 PM Midnight" was written on the back of the base with black marker. The time the two of you would call each other every night those years ago.

"Sorry, is.. is there anyone I could talk to about this?" Vash apologized, giving the young man a somber smile as he held the phone to himself, as if someone were going to rip it away from his grasp.

The man observed Vash for a moment, before nodding and giving Vash directions to his great-grandmother's home, right outside the border of Augusta.

"There you are!" Wolfwoods' voice rang out angrily behind him "The hell did you see now?!"

Vash turned to Wolfwood and simply gave him a smile "We're gonna be paying a visit."

It didn't take long to reach the old worn down home and greet the owner of the property, a small old lady to which surprised Wolfwood that she hadn't kicked the bucket yet.

Vash, of course, elbowed him in the rib for that one.

Seeing the phone in Vash's arms, the lady let out a small smile "My, I haven't seen that phone since I was a child..." She quickly showed Vash and Wolfwood inside, explaining how the phone came to be here.

"According to my grandfather, our lineage began with two sibilngs who were born and raised on Earth. When Earth neared its end, the daughter of the family was able to escape whilst the other sibling unknowingly stayed behind on Earth."

The old lady snapped her fingers to Wolfwood and waved him over "Be a dear for me and put this on the table."

Watching Wolfwood put a very old and deteriorating box on the table, the lady continued.

"Well, the sibling died before the daughter left Earth, so in attempt to preserve her family's memories, the daughter took some of her siblings' things, something to remember them by."

The old lady points to the phone in Vash's arm "That was one of them. And here-" The lady patted on side of the box "-are the things she was able to take with her. Check them out yourself." She softly motioned Vash to come closer with her frail, wrinkled hand.

Hesitating for just a second, he took slow and steady steps towards the box, biting the inside of his cheek in attempt to not just cry.

Damn, he sure felt like a cry baby these days.

Putting the phone down besides the box, Vash reached into the box and pulled out various things. Old shirts, CDs, a wallet, wired headphones, books, and something he never thought he'd ever see in fine print that made his breath hitch.

A colored photo I.D and on the side of it, your full name printed in black.

It was you.

These were your things, these shirts you've worn, the CDs you've listened to, the wallet you used in your day-to-day life, but he kept his eyes on the I.D.

Vash stared at your photo, the features you've described to him once were in his hands, proof of your existence.

He couldn't hold it anymore, how could he? Silent tears ran down his face as the small giggles he let out, turned into full on laughter.

He laughed and laughed whilst holding the I.D close to his heart.

You didn't purposely leave him.

You hadn’t meant to.

The same gracious laughter morphed into sobs as he grabbed everything he had taken out of the box, and enveloped them tightly into his arms.

This was the first time he was able to physically feel you, even if you weren't there yourself. He wished the smell of the favorite perfume you had gotten one day had still lingered onto your shirts, he wished he could've shared and listened to your favorite music alongside you. And he wished you were beside him, looking through all these things with him. He wanted to hear you reminsce your past and your present again.

Oh he wished.

Vash spent hours at the old ladies' home, looking and observing every single one of your belongings. There were some he remembered you talking to him about, and others he didn't recognize.

But it was time for him to leave and Vash knew it.

Looking up at the sky outside, he softly smiled, caressing the small compartment he had your I.D pocketed in.

"C'mon needle-noggin. Time to get your ass moving!" Wolfwood shouted ahead of him.

Letting out a large exhale, Vash muttered out a few words before running to catch up with the priest "Wait up!"

Behind him, two objects were left behind in the sand, placed neatly besides a metal nameplate.

The two red cherry rotary phones glistened in the sun, one filled with stickers and the other covered in dirt and scuff marks as your name plate, that had been cleaned of any dirt or scratches, continued to sit in peace as the windy breeze passed on by.

"I'll live on. For the both of us."

#but its ok yall together in the next life :D #i made vash cry too much but he's such a sweetheart im sorry #vash the stampede x reader #vash x reader #trigun imagines #nicholas d wolfwood #trigun angst #vash imagine #one shot #no sugarcoating straight angst half way through #trigun stampede x reader #was not physical comfort but instead acceptance comfort #was gonna write a bonus paragraph but my eyes burn i've reread this too many times #i have procrastinated on exactly 3 assignments that are due today #vash the stampede #trigun headcanons #i'll edit it later

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catxsnow · 4 years ago

Text

BACK TO YOU W.W.

Request: Could I be so bold to request a Wally fic? Where he comes back after his "death" (lets be real we all know he is not dead) and Y/N reacts to it? Could it be fluff, angst, a little of both, that's up to you.

P.s. I love you 😊😊

Warning: angst, mentions of death (wallace), fluff

A/N: hello, good evening, I’m tired as fuck.

I’ve been thinking about a taglist lately so if there’s interest I’ll start one. I always suffer when I make it for some reason but if the people are interested I will suffer for y’all.

Word count: 2.3k

Wally coming back from the dead seemed surreal.

The hope you had for his return never diminished, even if those around you gave up long ago. Wally wasn't dead, he was never dead - he was just stuck in a place that no one could save him. Not Barry, not Bart, Not even Jay. Wally was the only one that could save himself and he had done it.

Broken, battered, and barely breathing he had made it out of the Speed Force. He had made it back to you. It put everyone into shock to see him collapsed in the middle of the team's headquarters. His suit was barely hanging to his body, eyes sunken in with exhaustion. He barely looked alive.

It took weeks to get him nourished back to health. Weeks of him being in a coma, wondering how the hell he managed to get back home. Sleeping at his bedside every night because you were scared this wasn't real or that he would be taken from you again. Long nights of crying because even if he was back, was he even going to wake up?

By the time that he was back up on his feet and running around again, every single league member had come to see him. Those who gave up on him, those who never lost hope, even those who never knew him.

Wally West was back.

Unfortunately, it seemed that a lot of him was still missing. His smile that once never left his face hadn't resurfaced once. The laugh that you remembered so clearly that got you through so many hard days vanished. The light in his eyes when he was running or saving lives was dull. He wasn't the same man you knew.

He teetered around you like a stranger even though every night he told you how grand his love for you was. You noticed him bumping into furniture that had moved from his time away or looking at pictures of people he didn't know with tears in his eyes. He stood by the window, watching for nearly an hour, just staring into the void every other day.

Wally wasn't all back from the Speed Force. He had lost a part of himself in there that he could never get back. Dick tried to fill in the gap of time that he missed, catching him up on everything that he missed but the moment that he came back to you he seemed more zoned out than ever. M'gann excitedly told him about her engagement with Conner, Kaldur with his new position in the league.

Everyone tried to make him feel right back at home, but no matter how hard they tried it would never be the same. Wally lost that time, and he was never going to get it back. He could never make it up to his friends for missing so many important moments in their lives or the grief that he put them through.

No matter how fast he ran, how many hours he stayed up wondering if things would have been different that day, none of that would change the fact that he had been missing for five years. Guilt plagued him, fear of being stuck back in there, he was in a constant state of terror because it was so damn easy for him to be lost the first time.

Nightmares woke him up every night. Sometimes he would lay there staring at the ceiling for hours without you knowing, other times his screams would echo in your room and wake you. Tears streaming down his face, clinging to you like his lifeline. Horrible dreams filled his mind of being pulled back there - or seeing his friends taken instead.

Those moments were the only time that it seemed Wally was willing to open up to you. It was the only time that he treated you like a lover rather than a stranger. Only when he was most vulnerable did it feel like he was truly back home, safe and sound with you. Whatever was holding him back from being open to you, it broke your heart.

Wally was always the one that you could go to when you had your issues and now that you couldn't do the same for him... it was hard to accept. You didn't want to push him into relieving his memories where he was stuck or asking the wrong questions to get him upset. Saying nothing at all didn't seem to be working either.

Dick noticed it, Barry, Artemis, even Garfield was worried. No one knew what was going on inside that head of his and he refused to go to Dinah - or anyone - for help. Everyone was worried.

You told them of the times that you woke up to him vibrating the entire bed, still asleep and a pained look on his face. Or the time that he would be perfectly fine before suddenly speeding around the house like he had no control over his body. Wally had become unstable with his speed - and maybe his health too.

"Love you, baby," Wally mumbled out.

He had gotten back from his hangout with Dick to find you sprawled out on the couch. Whatever they had done must have put him in a good mood. The moment that he saw you, he sped over and practically dived into you. His arms kept him hovering over you so he could lean down and kiss you properly - something that he always seemed to avoid since being back.

He found himself cuddled into your chest, arms snaked around you. For the first time since his return, you saw a genuine smile on his face. It was a sleepy, half-smile, but nonetheless, you were excited to see it. His eyes drooped closed the second you started massaging his scalp. He hummed with content as you eased the tension that had been piling up.

Half asleep, shoulders loose after weeks of being tensed at every moment. His heavy breathing was audible and you could feel the warmth of it against your skin. It had been years since you had seen him relaxed like this and it quickly brought tears to your eyes. Wally had been through so much, he deserved happiness, he deserved to have peace in his life.

"I love you Wally, always," you whispered. Silent tears spilled down your eyes - you wanted him to find his joy again, no matter the cost. "I never gave up on you, my love. I knew you'd find your way back home. Fuck-" your voice cracked, "I was so lost without you. Having you back in my arms like this was the only thing keeping me going.

"You mean everything to me, Wally. I know that you did what you did to save the world but..." you sighed. It was impossible to say that you wished that he hadn't done it - or that someone else should have taken his place. "I'm so relieved that you're safe now. I know you've been going through a hard time, and I've been trying my best not to push you - but if you need anything you know I'm here."

You waited for him to say something - anything. Wally was struggling to open up to you but seeing him in a good mood like this may have been the best opportunity to get him to say what was on his mind. Unfortunately, his silence made you worried.

It wasn't until the sounds of a soft snore did you realize that he had fallen asleep on you. His body had become completely dead weight, arms no longer tense around you. The security he felt being with you had lulled him to deep sleep in a matter of minutes. Although you weren't in a comfortable position, seeing him at peace was well worth it.

"He's getting better."

It had been months since Wally had been home. The process of getting him back to his mental state before entering the Speed Force for years was going to take a long time - but he was well on his way. Being with friends, family - finally admitting that he needed to see someone to talk through all this - dramatically helped.

The original team decided to put together a little surprise birthday for Wally. He said he didn't want anything - but they had several year's worth of get-togethers to make up for. So, you and Dick plotted together to throw something, just with his closest friends. Nothing overwhelming.

Although he originally complained about the gesture, he quickly found himself appreciating the effort that had been put into that evening. The food, the people, he forgot how much these moments meant to him. Seeing the smiles on everyone's faces again, that was the best gift he could have asked for.

He stood on the other side of the room with Conner and Dick - all three of the men were laughing their heads off about something. Artemis stood by your side, watching the three of them just as you were. She handed over one of the drinks in her hand to you. Everyone in the room had been deep in conversation with someone - besides you. She noticed.

"He is," you agreed with her.

"Why're you by yourself?" She got straight to the point. Artemis didn't bother with the small talk or sugarcoating her question. She waited for your answer, watching as your gaze turned from Wally, to the now interesting cement beneath your feet. "(Y/N)."

"Everyone's helped Wally so much and I can't help but feel like... Like I haven't done enough. Wally was always the person that I could lean on and now that I'm the one that has to be strong for him, it just feels like there's more that I could have done to help him. I never had the same bond that you all had with him being on the team and risking your lives, I don't know what it's like enough to help him through this trauma.

"Wally deserves the world and a lot of the time I feel like I can't give it to him. I'm not a hero, I don't have powers, I'm just... normal. Maybe that's not enough for someone who can save the world before I even finish breakfast," Your fists tightened at your sides as the heavy realization that had been clouding your mind was revealed.

It was clear that you were the odd man out in the room. Everyone there had risked their lives to saved the world and what had you done? Wait anxiously at home for your friends to return? Grieve at the losses that you couldn't have changed? There was nothing that you could do in the hero-life besides sitting on the sidelines.

"You do a lot more than you make yourself believe, (Y/N)," Artemis placed her hand on your shoulder. She glanced over at your boyfriend, wondering how different it would have been if they ended up together instead. Wally would have been unhappy, he loved you from the beginning.

"Wally can't stop talking about the support you give him. He wouldn't be where he is today without you. Men are stubborn - especially speedster men - they won't always admit how much they need someone. He gets this look on his face when he's talking about you like you're the whole reason for his existence. Don't put yourself down for not being stuck in a hero life we are - your love for him is the only power he needs."

"Thank you, Artemis," you forced a smile at her. Although you didn't believe her words at the moment she was right. Your love for Wally was the most important thing that you could ever give him, and that was going to have to be enough for now. Every ounce of your love went to making him happy.

Before she could say anything else, a familiar breeze washed over you both. Wally was suddenly standing right in front of you - and as if Artemis wasn't even there, brought you in for a deep kiss. His lips molded to yours, hand pressed to the small of your back to keep you close.

"I love you, (Y/N)," Wally barely pulled his lips from you. Conner had heard everything that you were saying to Artemis, and although he felt as if it wasn't his place to tell, Wally needed to know. A need to be with you, to assure you that you had done more than enough to get him to where he was, filled him.

"Across every galaxy, every universe, the Speed Force, no matter where I will always find my way back to you. I'll love you through everything," Wally pecked you once more. "Thank you for never giving up on me, babe."

"I'll never give up on you, Wally West. Not even the Speed Force can keep us apart," you grinned.

"Get a room already," Artemis complained. You had forgotten that she was still standing with you. It wasn't just her - the entire room was staring at the both of you. Smiles on their face at how happy Wally was with you. His little move had caught the attention of everyone and he just adored it.

Wally laughed at her comment. He swooped you up in his arms and sent a wink your way. He was already gearing up to speed you both out of there before saying his last bit to Artemis - and everyone else in the room.

"Don't have to tell me twice."

#wally west #wally west imagine #wally west x reader #wally west fanfic #wally west one shot #kid flash #kid flash imagine #kid flash x reader #kid flash one shot #kid flash fanfic #young justice #young justice imagine #young justice one shot #young justice fanfic #dc one shot #dc imagine #dc #dc comics

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saintobio · 4 years ago

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━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

remember, forever. (16)

↳ kageyama tobio x f!reader

description: in which the boy you’ve loved for years unexpectedly becomes your baby daddy. the catch? he’s in love with someone else.

genre: angst, cheating, unrequited love

a/n: posting early today bc i can’t post it tomorrow :P

When Tobio said he had never been this happy in a long time, he really meant that. The words he said to you came straight out of his unfiltered emotions. No lies, no sugarcoating.

The trauma that he experienced during his childhood disallowed him to formulate his thoughts and handle his emotions coherently. He had a hard time communicating out of fear of being misunderstood and he brought that with him as he grew up.

He wouldn’t have figured out how to tell you how he felt, but the fear of losing you scared him more than anything else in his life.

He couldn’t lose you. Not now, not ever.

The feeling of getting it all off his chest was unmatched, like a huge portion of the weight on his shoulders were gone. He never saw that confession coming, still he was glad that he was able to conquer his inner struggles and just be honest with how he felt.

For him, he was the luckiest guy on Earth to have someone like you and he wouldn’t exchange you for anything.

He couldn’t even stop thinking about you.

Even in practice where he shouldn’t put his mind anywhere else but the game, he couldn’t help it. You lingered in his head.

That afternoon, the team took a fifteen minute break and everyone were in good spirits despite the heavy drills they did.

It was exhausting but he was pumped for the next game. Tobio knew he was in perfect condition—he was feeling like the best version of himself and that he was unparalleled. He was on top of his game like no one else could defeat him.

He took his water bottle and chugged enough of the energy drink he could intake before sitting on the bench. They weren’t allowed to use their phones during trainings but he tried to sneak one quick text to you.

Tobio: I miss you..

It had only been a couple of hours but he really did miss you. He just wanted to hold you again and feel his little boy’s tiny kicks.

The feeling of coming home to the woman he loved gave him a new sense of purpose. More than just volleyball, he now had other important things to look forward to.

As Kageyama’s teammates did their own thing during the short break, one of them suddenly sat next to him. He realized it was Hoshiumi.

“You’re in a good mood,” his teammate noted.

He blinked. “I guess.”

“Seems like your new girl really makes you happy, huh?” he casually asked.

Tobio gave him a wary look. Was this guy about to call you a side chick, too?

He just didn’t trust any of his teammates’ opinion about you after that last altercation he had with the jackass bench player.

“Just saying,” Hoshiumi defended, raising his arms in surrender. “I think she’s good for you. Besides, it was a good pay back.”

He looked at him. “Pay back?”

Hoshiumi looked at Kageyama with a perplexed expression. “Yeah. Didn’t you cheat on Lara to get back at her? Like some petty revenge?”

For what?

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

His teammate scratched his head in utter confusion. “I thought you knew that Lara slept with Hikaru a couple months back?”

...What?

“She even tried to get with Ushiwaka,” he spilled more. “Obviously, he rejected her.”

Tobio was raging.

He was fucking furious, not because he got cheated on, but because all this time he was made to believe that he was the only one at fault in their relationship.

He had been rough with himself for hurting Lara when it turned out that she had been sleeping around with his teammate before he even made a move on you.

He was so disgusted with how much of Lara he didn’t know about and at this point, he didn’t know what was real about her anymore.

On top of that, all the things that Jina said about her made him doubt if he really dated the same Lara he ‘fell in love’ with.

He was too blinded.

No, he definitely wasn’t trying to justify his wrongdoings because he still did cheat on her. Regardless if she cheated first, he shouldn’t have done it with you while he was still with her.

But right now, he didn’t really give a damn anymore. All he cared about was you. He just wanted to be a better man and take care of you. Start new. Fulfill his promise. Leave the unnecessary people behind.

———————————————————————

You couldn’t deny that there was a change of atmosphere between you and Kageyama after he had confessed his feelings. Right now, there was nothing else to question about how he felt and how you felt. He already made it crystal clear.

Of course, you still couldn’t believe it when he told you that he’d felt that way for you since high school. You never really imagined that he would be capable of loving you even if you wished for it your whole life.

His words that night of Jina and Iwa’s wedding kept ringing on your ears like a broken record, but you didn’t mind. They were music to your ears that you could listen to every single day.

You even got so excited when he came home from practice and he surprised you with a gorgeous bouquet of red roses. Honestly, it looked like you were teenage lovers with how the two of you were acting.

This love felt so young and fresh.

“You still haven’t given me my reward, you know,” he said, arm wrapped around you as the two of you were seated on the couch.

“Reward for?” You smiled.

“For the roses.”

You chuckled, grabbing his chin for a quick peck. “Thank you, daddy.”

You meant it as it is, not the other daddy he was probably thinking of but it was too late to clarify.

The corner of his lips had already formed a smirk before he leaned in again for a longer kiss.

It was just a light, wholesome kiss.

Not until he deepened it and soon enough, it was a full make out session.

You felt as if your body was on fire with how he was moving his lips against yours with so much love and passion. It was the same kiss he had given you that night at Jina’s party. You remembered that kiss so vividly and you knew how to discern his way of kissing each time.

While your thoughts distracted you, he shifted his kisses down to your jaw, and then to your neck. You instinctively gripped on his hair as he left kisses on your collarbone and back to your lips. He wanted to kiss every part of you.

Your eyes opened wide in realization.

“T-Tobio.” You pulled away, catching your breath. You felt weak at how sexy his stare was.

“Mm?” He wanted to go for another kiss but you placed a finger on his lips.

“We can’t,” you said, suppressing a chuckle. “I’m pregnant.”

He sighed in defeat, “I know.” He then pulled away, realizing that you two couldn’t go any farther than smooching each other’s faces. “Next time...”

The heat that you felt on your cheeks were so intense.

However, a sudden jolt on your belly shook you off from your thoughts.

“Oh, I... I think our baby wants attention, too.” You giggled, placing your boyfriend’s hand on top of your belly. “He’s kicking again.”

Tobio grinned at the feeling of his son’s movements. “Looks like he’s going to be mommy’s boy.”

“He definitely will,” you teased, sticking your tongue out.

“I can’t wait to see him,” he said, placing your head on his chest.

It felt nice. To be with him, to imagine a life like this forever. You could hear the beat of his heart knowing it was beating for you.

You truly wanted no one else in this world as much as you wanted him.

Even if you died and resurrected into another body, you would always love the same Tobio. In this life and in another, he was the only boy you could love this much.

———————————————————————

Perhaps you could say it was strange for Kageyama to suddenly take you out one Friday afternoon without telling you exactly where he was planning to go.

Not only was it spontaneous, but the only thing he also told you was how he was going to fix his shit or whatever that meant. He didn’t say anything further.

You simply let him hold your hand as he drove the car to the city.

“You trust me, right?” he asked, pressing his lips on your knuckles.

You nodded. “Always... But, are you really not gonna tell me where we’re going?”

“I’m just gonna meet with someone for a minute.”

You felt uneasy because you had a theory on who that someone was and you weren’t prepared to see her again. Not when you’ve already settled your feelings with Tobio.

You couldn’t possibly let him go now and you didn’t know how to face her, because you’d only sympathize for the pain she was going to have.

“I’ll stay in the car,” you insisted, squeezing his hand. Whatever Tobio was planning to do, you didn’t want to be part of it. “Please, please don’t do something that can hurt her. You can’t hurt her enough.”

“I’ll try.”

———————————————————————

The reason why Kageyama chose the cafe to meet with Lara was because it was a public place and he knew she wouldn’t risk causing a scene.

It wasn’t like he was planning to do something terrible. He just wanted to formally give her the closure she deserved. At least, out of courtesy, he wanted to speak to her one last time and make it clear that he planned to move on with his life without her.

Lara seemed to have taken a hint on why her ex-boyfriend wanted to meet with her because she didn’t look pleased. From the moment Kageyama came inside the cafe, to when he sat in front of her, she had a look of anxiety displayed across her face.

“I know you brought her with you,” she snapped.

“I take her with me everywhere I go,” he answered, coldly. “Listen, I’ll make this quick since you didn’t give me the chance to talk last time.”

Lara looked at him in disbelief. She did kiss him that night at the fashion show in hopes of taking him back, but Kageyama was quick to push her off. It was the first time in her life that a guy denied her that way.

He continued, “I wanna say sorry for everything that I did. For hurting you and for causing you pain. I’m grateful for all the memories I have with you and I still think that you’re an amazing girl. There’s someone out there who will love you and treat you better than I ever did.”

He sounded like he was talking from a rehearsed speech and it probably hurt Lara to a great extent because it also stepped on her pride.

“Why are we talking about this?” She swallowed, tears threatening to spill from her emerald eyes.

“I love her,” Kageyama spoke without any trace of hesitation. “I’ve always loved her. I don’t ever plan to leave her side.”

Lara’s eyes began to water. “You jerk.”

He couldn’t even disagree. “I know.”

“You used me,” she snarled out of spite, trying to keep her temper under control.

“I didn’t use you. I did love you, but it’s just not...” He couldn’t choose the right words to use that wouldn’t hurt her like you told him. “We’re not meant for each other, Lara.”

Kageyama noticed how Lara’s hands were shaking out of rage.

“She’s not meant for you! She’s just an obsessive bitch who—”

“That’s exactly why I can’t be with you,” he cut her off before she could insult you further. “You slapped her even when I told you she had no idea I had a girlfriend. You insulted her and made her give up something that she worked so hard for even when I told you to direct all your anger to me. You treated her like dirt, made rumors behind her back, lied about how I see her, embarrassed her at her workplace, messed with her head so much to make her fucking insecure. I get your sentiments and I know I hurt you, but I can’t respect you the same way after knowing all that.”

Tobio could go on and on with how much information he found out about the way Lara treated you, but it was clear that she wasn’t going to take it with a grain of salt.

“And so what?” Her furious eyes stared at his soul. “So what if I did all that? I’ll slap her again! She still deserved it. You cheated on me with a bitch like her!”

If she was infuriated, so was he. It was the first time he had seen Lara’s true colors after a year of acting sweet and kind and loving to him.

He felt like he just met a whole nother person.

He clenched his jaw. “You can get angry at me all you want, but she doesn’t deserve that.”

“Yes, she does! She’s—What makes you choose her over me?” Lara was losing it. “You’re acting on guilt. You don’t love her, you love me! She’s not better than me! You’re just gonna end up running back to me!”

Kageyama furrowed his brows. “I’d rather die than to get back with you.”

“Fuck you, Tobio.” Tears finally spilled from her eyes at his harsh words. “Seriously, fuck you! You’re a fucking cheater and you’re acting like you’re so... you’re so righteous or something... God, I hate you!”

“You’re one to talk,” he retorted, unapologetically. “I know what I did wrong, but I had the decency to apologize to you. You slept around with my teammate behind my back and had the audacity to smile at my face every single day.”

Lara was at a loss of words just as he expected. The reason why she couldn’t direct all her anger at Tobio after he cheated was because she was guilty herself, too.

“Don’t worry, I don’t care about it. You can fuck who you want,” he clarified. “It just proves how we don’t really fit together.”

Her face was suddenly void of any emotion, but her voice reflected her agony.

“So you wanna leave me for good?” she asked, sounding in denial. Like it was finally hitting her that she would never, ever be with Kageyama again.

She already knew the answer to it and he didn’t have to explicitly say them. It did pain him that they had to come to an end this way—where one was hurting more than the other—but there wasn’t really any other way to end it.

“When you told her I’ll never love her like I loved you, you’re right,” he stated. “Because I’ll love her so much more.”

———————————————————————

You had no idea what they talked about, but Tobio promised you that he had completely ended his relationship with Lara and that you didn’t have to worry about it anymore.

You trusted him and his words.

However, it was innate within you to worry for Lara. You were surprised to hear that she had been cheating on Kageyama before but you still believed that they did love each other. No matter how imperfect their relationship was, there was no doubt that they brought each other happiness at some point in their lives.

The thought didn’t hurt you anymore. You already feel secure around Tobio that no negative thoughts could get to you.

“The stars look so beautiful tonight,” you wowed, looking up at the night sky.

Tobio had taken a drive up the hill and parked the car at the perfect spot where you overlooked the beautiful Tokyo. What a perfect view it truly was.

You, him, the place—it started feeling like you were a main character in the movie La La Land.

You laughed at the thought. Surely, Emma Stone had the talent to dance unlike you.

“What’s funny?” he asked, pulling you to him as he leaned at the trunk of his car. He made an effort to wrap his arms around your waist.

“Nothing, I just remembered something,” you replied, feeling his chin resting on your shoulder. “What do you think we should name our baby?”

He hummed in thought, intertwining your hands together. “Tomie?”

You tilted your face a little. “Isn’t that a girl’s name?”

“Is it?” He tightened his arms around you. “You pick, then. We’ll save Tomie when we have a girl next time.”

That made you chuckle. “You’re so firm about that ‘next time’. I have to give birth first, you know? Allow me to rest my body, mister.”

“So, one year in between?” he asked, already planning the whole thing and it was making you laugh. “Family planning is the best.”

He was very adorable.

“Hey, just two kids and that’s it,” you asserted.

He snickered. “No way, we’re gonna keep making babies until we create our own volleyball team.”

Oh, my goodness.

“You wish.” You shook your head.

He smiled and planted a kiss on your temple. You looked up at him and he started pressing his nose against yours.

“Stop...” You blushed.

“Say you love me,” he ordered, looking at you with eyes full of adoration.

He already knew you’d say it easily, but you wanted to tease. “I don’t.”

“Hah?” He made you face him. “You love me.”

“I don’t.”

“You do.”

“Fine.”

You both chuckled and turned to look at the blanket of stars that surrounded the luminescent moon. They were so pleasing to look at.

You have always dreamed of stargazing with someone and you finally managed to do it with the person you loved. The only one.

Suddenly, a thought came to your mind. “Have you heard about twin flames?”

His eyes searched the stars. “No, like soulmates?”

You shook your head. “It’s different.” It just came to your mind after remembering how you thought about Jina and Iwa’s relationship.

“I don’t know what that is, but it sounds nice,” he said, leaning his cheek close to yours.

“You should research,” you said. “Then give me an answer.”

After awhile, you both stayed silent and kept your thoughts to yourselves. All you had in mind was just how serene this night was and that there was nothing else that could take him away from you.

You never knew that the boy you met at the vending machine back at Kitagawa Daichi would be the man you’d wish to spend a lifetime with.

“Marry me.”

Your heart doubled a beat.

It was as if he heard your thoughts.

Your turned around as he stared at your eyes like you were the only person he could see.

“Marry me, for real...” he spoke again. “I don’t have a ring ready and this is probably the worst proposal and you deserve better but—”

You hushed him with a kiss.

When you pulled away, your thoughts were full of all the positive emotions that could exist in a dictionary.

There was a certain bond between the two of you that could never be torn apart. It was you and him, him and you. He knew that. You knew that. He was the person you’d like to spend your life with, in 10 years, 20 years, 50 years. You had no other desire to look at anyone's way because you had him and he had you.

“Yes,” you answered. “Yes, a million times yes.”

#tobio kageyama #kageyama tobio #tobio kageyama x reader #tobio kageyama x you #kageyama x reader #kageyama x you #kageyama angst #kageyama fic #kageyama #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you #haikyuu angst #haikyuu fic #haikyuu #haikyuu!!#haikyu

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littlemisspascal · 4 years ago

Text

Death and an Angel part 14.5

Death!Din x Cupid F!Reader

Summary: And it’s unbelievable, truly, that he’s found someone who makes him feel as though he’s flying and falling simultaneously.

Rating: T

Word Count: 3,701

Warnings: angst, dialogue heavy, language, angst, Violence, plot plot plot, did I mention angst? Cuz it’s here

Author Note: Texas weather is no laughing matter and never have I hated snow more than these last few days. This is definitely more of a transition segment so I wrote shorter snippets as a result, but there is some serious plot development nevertheless. The response to last chapter was so amazing I can’t thank everyone enough for all the love and support 💖💖💖

Links to Part 1 and Part 14 and Part 15

Cross-posted on AO3.

Photo Inspiration:

Ahsoka hijacks the Razor Crest as soon as Din teleports her aboard the ship. She pushes Din out of the cockpit, refusing to let him so much as glimpse the coordinates of the destination she inputs into the nav computer. The Oracle hadn’t been kidding when she said she didn’t trust him going alone to rescue his soulmate.

Bo-Katan hadn’t been phased by Ahsoka’s arrival, adapting to her presence with the same ease as a duck to water. However, Din couldn’t help noticing the moment her mask of cool indifference slipped when Ahsoka asked the reaper to stay in the cockpit with her, claiming they had important matters to discuss.

Din climbs down the ladder into the hull, recognizing that the conversation about to ensue is not one he needs to be involved in. Fingers twitching restlessly, he commits himself to checking each of the weapons in his armory, sharpening his vibroblades and loading a set of whistling birds into his vambrace. He’d made a promise to Ahsoka against killing Moff Gideon, but he’d made no vow against scarring the Seraph beyond recognition.

When Din’s finished with him, Gideon will be a warning to the rest of the galaxy what happens if you steal from Death.

He stills at the thrum of satisfaction that runs through his body at the thought of pressing Gideon’s eyeballs out with his thumbs. The darkness within him has grown stronger since he killed Hess and it’s becoming an increasingly harder challenge denying its craving for bloodshed. If not for Ahsoka’s intervention, he would have reaped Xi’an’s soul, breaking another sacred rule. He should feel grateful, but the darkness expresses annoyance instead, upset to have been denied its kill.

There is a thought that has been plaguing the back of his mind, shackled in the same corner as his other doubts and regrets. He once had iron control over his powers and emotions, but now he’s holding onto his human façade by a mere thread. So slowly he hadn’t even been aware it was happening, his darkness has usurped his morality.

He’s meant to be a neutral entity, but when he looks at his reflection in the fresher mirror all he sees is a weapon.

Obsidian orbs have replaced brown eyes. Flawless tan skin has become dissected by lines of ink that once were blue veins.

Darkness is corrupting him from the inside out, making him a slave to the power he once mastered.

And he doesn’t have a fucking clue how to stop it.

Bo-Katan joins him in the hull an hour later. She doesn’t say anything , just leans against the wall across from him, and Din continues cleaning the barrel of his amban rifle as if he doesn’t see her.

The silence isn’t tense or uncomfortable, but he feels her gaze trying to penetrate his helmet. He knows the reaper well-enough to tell there is a question on her mind, but her hesitance to voice it unsettles him. Bo-Katan rarely holds her tongue around him, preferring blunt honesty over sugarcoating, which means whatever is on her mind must be serious.

He bites back a sigh when she starts restlessly shifting in place and pauses his task. “Ahsoka told you,” he says at last.

“That Moff Gideon fucked with our lives?” Bo-Katan snorts humorlessly. “Yeah, she showed me everything.”

“I’m sorry about your sister.”

“Me too. But it’s...good not being in the dark anymore. I needed to hear the truth,” she replies stoically, but the pointless adjustment of her headband betrays her internal strife. There is a moment of pause before she looks at him again. “I heard about your promise,” she says, and it’s not really a question, except that it is.

Din’s fingers tighten around the rifle. “Did she make you swear the same one?”

“No.” Bo-Katan shakes her head. “No, she didn’t.”

He’s not surprised by the answer. He actually thinks he should have expected it, considering the universe has always held him to a stricter standard than other entities.

“Ahsoka made it clear to me that this is something between you, Gideon, and your angel alone. I cannot interfere just like you cannot kill him.”

There is bitter resignation in her tone. He recognizes it because he felt the same when he made his promise to Ahsoka. No one likes being told no when they want something. But this—knowing with absolute certainty Gideon is the one responsible for hurting their loved ones and being told you can’t do anything to avenge them? This is the kind of pain that will linger for years to come as an ache in their bones and a scar over their hearts.

It isn’t fair. But Din’s lived long enough to know the universe never intended life to be that way.

“Can I ask you a favor?” Bo-Katan asks, pulling him out of his thoughts.

He blinks at her, realizing this is the question she’d been withholding since she came down the ladder. Never has she asked him a request before. “What is it?”

“You must separate Gideon from the Darksaber,” she answers, expression one of absolute seriousness. “The Armorer warned my people if the Lightsaber was ever mishandled, it would turn against the wielder by transforming into the Darksaber. Instead of empowering you, it deceives you. Fills your head with delusions until you lose your grip on reality entirely.”

“And you want to spare Gideon’s sanity?” Din asks slowly.

“Of course not. The son of a bitch deserves to be punished for his crimes. Even if I did want to,” her lips curl into a snarl at the thought, “there’s no way of undoing the damage done to his mind. What I want is for the weapon to be returned to the Armorer. She’s the only one who can properly dispose of it.”

“Right,” he agrees quietly. Anything that comes out of the Armorer’s forge is built to last the length of eternity. He could toss the Darksaber into the center of a sun and it’d remain whole and unaffected, waiting to twist the mind of the next wielder. Nodding his head, he assures her, “I’ll take care of it, even if I have to cut off his hands.”

“Good.”

Din paces the length of the hull, each thud of his boots making contact with the metal floor blends with the low hum of the engines. Usually he’d ignore the creaks and groans of his home, but the metallic symphony is the only thing capable of drowning out the thoughts in his head urging him to storm the cockpit and retake control from Ahsoka.

“Pacing isn’t going to make us arrive any quicker,” Bo-Katan tells him, not even bothering to open her eyes as she lounges atop one of his storage crates. “Ahsoka said it will be another hour at least.”

He has a retort ready on his tongue when a voice calls out his name from somewhere beyond the Razor Crest.

“Din!”

Din freezes in place as unexpected, heart-wrenching hope slices through his chest. He knows that voice. It’s his favorite in all the galaxy.

“Death?” Bo-Katan asks, concerned by his stillness. “What’s wrong?”

He tentatively reaches out towards the bond, giving it the slightest of tugs. When he feels the distant flicker of a reaction on the other end from his angel he nearly forgets how to breathe.

“The bond,” he murmurs, voice thick with awe and relief. “I can feel it again.”

Longing fills his chest where the hollowness used to reside now that the invisible block separating them is gone. It wraps around his heart, squeezing so tightly he nearly falls to his knees. Din pulls at the bond again on impulse, possessed by the all-consuming need to see her, to have her at his side where she’ll be safe.

The bond protests the harsh treatment, too weak to physically bring them together across the vast distance separating them. He snarls a curse under his breath, hating being helpless to protect her. It’s unfair, he finds himself thinking for a second time. Unfair how it hurts more now being able to feel her presence compared to when he couldn’t at all.

A paper airplane flickers into existence on the horizon of his mind, flying straight into his hand when he reaches out for it. I can’t leave this place. Not yet, the note says. The words themselves are unsettling, but it’s the strength of the emotions she’s attached that has him reeling with shock. For one crazy, electrifying moment he thinks he’s passed onto the afterlife.

Another note arrives. I miss you, Din. I want to see you so much it hurts. And it’s unbelievable, truly, that he’s found someone who makes him feel as though he’s flying and falling simultaneously.

As he sends a message of his own, never has he been more certain that if anyone can put an end to the darkness inside of him—it’s her.

“The Moff is an expert when it comes to defensive warding,” Ahsoka says as the three of them stand looking up at a canyon wall that extends in either direction as far as their eyes can see. “But even he can’t hide from my sight.”

Din scuffs at the salt-covered ground with his boot, still coming to terms with the fact all this time Gideon’s been hiding out on Crait of all planets. As much as he wants to believe Ahsoka’s right, his powers can’t detect even the barest hint of the Seraph’s presence.

Bo-Katan’s eyebrows arch with skepticism. “You’re sure this is the right place? It’s kind of remote.”

“Perfect for building an army,” Ahsoka replies without missing a beat.

Din exchanges a look with his reaper, realizing this is the first time either of them are hearing about this.

“Gideon has an army?” he asks. “Who—”

“Mercenaries,” she interrupts, turning around to face them. Her blue eyes are distant and cloudy, entranced by a vision. “When I break the warding, all but one will meet the end of their mortal lives attempting to overpower us.”

“All but one? I don’t think so.” Bo-Katan rests her hands deliberately on her blaster pistols. “Anyone who works for Gideon is an enemy in my book.”

“Migs Mayfeld is not to be harmed.” There is steel in Ahsoka’s voice as she blinks back into the present moment.

Din nudges Bo-Katan with his arm when it looks like she wants to continue arguing. The reaper huffs a quiet breath of annoyance, but eventually jerks her head in the tiniest nod of compliance.

Ahsoka grabs her twin sabers from her belt and ignites their blue blades. She handles her weapons with deadly grace, altering her appearance from peaceful Oracle to fierce and cunning warrior. Turning back to the canyon wall, her gaze trails over the red-brown rocks only to pause and narrow at seemingly random points.

Bo-Katan tries and fails to follow her line of vision. “What are you—”

The Oracle leaps into the air with surprising agility, lashing out with her sabers against the rock. Blinding light bursts forth from the point of collision followed by a flickering glimpse of a gigantic metal door.

“—looking at,” Bo-Katan finishes quietly, watching Ahsoka swing herself higher to attack another portion of the canyon wall where the next segment of warding is hidden.

There is something undeniably satisfying about seeing the door materialize as the wardings cloaking it are destroyed. Every precise strike of Ahsoka’s sabers brings Din one step closer to reuniting with his soulmate.

As if spurred by the mere thought of her, fear ripples across the bond like a gust of icy wind, stopping his heart cold. His angel is terrified. Din reaches out as far as the bond will allow in its fragile state, trying to get her attention by pulling at it and shouting her name, but none of his attempts breach the storm of panic.

“She needs me,” he mutters to himself, stepping forward with clenched fists. His vision narrows until all he can see is the door in front of him, an obstacle that must be dealt with. “She needs my help.”

“Wait,” Bo-Katan calls out, but her voice sounds as if it’s coming from thousands of miles away. “Ahsoka isn’t finished with the warding yet!”

If he were capable of rational thought in that moment, he would have heeded her warning. As it is, he summons his power into the palm of his hand, the darkness inside of him crowing in wicked delight. He winds his arm back, preparing to slam his fist against the door, only for a whipcord to wrap around his wrist with an audible zip.

He’s pulled backwards onto the ground, breath knocked from his lungs as he lands with a heavy thud. Bo-Katan appears not a second later and pins him in place by straddling his waist. The darkness is demanding he push her aside, knowing with absolute certainty the reaper is no match against him, and it takes all his strength to wrestle the urge under control.

“Are you out of your fucking mind?” She glares at him, eyes resembling green flames eager to incinerate him.

“I—” he rasps, breathing heavily. His hand starts trembling, a burning itch under his skin. “I can feel her fear. She needs me.”

Bo-Katan blows out a long, frustrated breath. “Well, shit.” She jostles him then, forcing his head to momentarily clear as his helmet smacks the ground. “Look, soulmates are soulmates for a reason, right? I heard it’s like being two halves of the same whole. So if your soulmate is anything like you, she’s not going to give up without a fight. You have to trust she can take care of herself right now. That she’ll be fine.”

Din bristles. Trust is not the issue here. There is no one he trusts more than his angel—not Bo-Katan, not Ahsoka, not even Kuiil. The issue is he’s being asked to deny the instinct to shield her from danger which is woven into every cell of his being.

“She’ll be fine.” The words come out sounding sharp around the edges, cutting his tongue like shrapnel. “Everything will be fine.”

Bo-Katan disconnects the whipcord and rises to full height, apparently satisfied by his agreement. Din pushes himself onto his feet at a slower pace, his hand still shaking as if it's electric. He looks down at it, noticing for the first time the flesh is gone, replaced entirely by shadow. His expression tightens as he observes the change, realizing the black tendrils are slowly creeping up towards his wrist.

An alarm rings out, reverberating off the canyon walls like an explosion. Din’s gaze snaps up just as Ahsoka lands on the ground in a defensive crouch. Now that it's been fully unveiled, the door bears a striking resemblance to ones he’s seen at military fortresses across the galaxy, ridiculously massive to intimidate enemies and impenetrable from outside attacks. It makes sense, he thinks with a scoff, someone as power-hungry as Gideon claiming an abandoned base as their lair. Without the wardings, Din is able to detect the massive number of souls gathering on the other side, resembling vermin crawling over one another in their haste to arm themselves.

He searches for his angel’s soul, even just a glimpse of her bright light, only for his powers to instead encounter a massive cloud of dark, negatively-charged energy within a distant corner of the underground tunnel system. It fills an entire room, prohibiting him from sensing if anyone is inside. There is something strangely familiar about the energy, like he’s encountered its essence before, but he can’t recall the specifics of when or where.

“It’s time.”

Ahsoka’s voice reels his focus back to his physical surroundings. He notices the way her grip on her sabers tightens in anticipation and out of the corner of his eye Bo-Katan withdraws her blasters from their holsters.

The bottom of the door begins to raise with an earsplitting groan, but the mercenaries only wait the minimum amount of time it takes to pass under without hitting their heads to start charging forward.

Every mortal has a beginning and an end just like everything else in the galaxy. These mercenaries are no exceptions, having long sealed their fates when they agreed to accept Gideon’s payment. So when Din’s shadowy hand phases through a man’s chest and tears his heart out of its cavity, staining the white salt under their feet crimson as blood bursts from the vacant hole, Din tells himself he’s simply fulfilling destiny.

He repeats it when he discharges an assault of whistling birds, each one puncturing the throats of each target they encounter with a shrill warcry. And also when he rips a devaronian’s horn out of his head, a fragment of skull and bits of brain matter still gruesomely attached.

Again and again, with each permanently silenced voice and every shattered fragile bone, destiny is fulfilled.

Din would be lying if he said he’s never wondered what it would be like to die. To pass on from this world into a new realm for him to explore. He’s imagined the idyllic afterlife mortals have written poems and novels about, describing it as a blissful safe haven where sorrow and tragedy have no definition because they do not exist. He’s familiar with their opinions of damnation’s appearance, too, as an infernal place of fire and brimstone and screaming.

They were wrong about that.

Damnation is not a distant hell. It is found in an underground lair on Crait.

Instead of flames and sulfur, a Cupid’s blood is split and a soulmate bond is snapped in half.

Instead of screaming, a madman laughs.

“I’ve waited so long for this moment,” Gideon says through his chuckles, hauling himself onto his feet. His voice is an abrasive rasp, as if he’s shredded his vocal cords by screaming. “I’ve had to be patient, wait to find your weakness so I could catch your attention. It’s a shame, really, she had to be the one you fell for. She was quite the little spitfire.”

Din stares at his soulmate’s motionless body, frozen in place. Please, he pulls at his severed half of the bond, resolutely ignoring how cold it feels. Open your eyes, angel. Don’t leave me. Please.

There is no response. Just heartbreaking silence.

“I sense your anger, your hurt, and grief. Those are mortal emotions.” The Seraph grimaces in disgust, then lets out a low hiss when he agitates the wounds on his face. “By living amongst their kind you’ve forgotten your true potential. You are not their equal, Death. You are their superior. Immortals are meant to be better than them. To rule over every aspect of their pitiful lives.”

“I don’t want to rule anyone,” Din says, dragging his eyes away from his angel to glare at Gideon. Both his hands begin to shake as his mind plunges into a gaping abyss of remorse and despair. “I just want a life with her.”

“Even dead, she continues to blind you.”

Din snarls viciously in response. His control is pushed closer to the brink, holding on by mere fingertips, and darkness engulfs the entire room as a result.

The glow of the Darksaber persists, reflecting off his beskar and Gideon’s armor. It reminds him of moonlight, and he thinks for all that Bo-Katan warned him about the weapon’s sinful qualities, she did not mention its beauty. Even Ahsoka’s vision had failed to truly capture its radiance, just as a holovid can never compete with a face-to-face conversation.

His powers are drawn to the Darksaber. The energy it emits matches the one encountered earlier when searching the tunnels for his angel’s aura. This close, there is no ignoring its familiarity, not when his brain feels seconds away from exploding.

“I used to believe love conquers all,” Gideon prattles on, seemingly oblivious to Din’s torment. “I chose it as the Cupid motto because I thought there was nothing mortals cared more about than the health and happiness of their loved ones. Only after our fateful encounter did the Lightsaber reveal to me the truth.”

Lightsaber? Din’s head jerks up to stare at him, biting back a wince when the throbbing in the back of his mind intensifies at the movement. Does Gideon not realize the weapon has transformed?

By connecting Ahsoka’s claim that Gideon didn’t fully understand the consequence of corrupting the Lightsaber with Bo-Katan’s explanation that the Darksaber deceives its wielder, the answer is an obvious one: he doesn’t.

Gideon mistakes Din’s confusion for interest and his lips slowly curl into a smile. “Mors aeterna. It means—”

“Death is eternal.” The translation slips unbiddenly from Din’s lips before he even realizes his mouth has opened.

“There is no one more feared or respected than you. But for what reason? What have you done to earn your reputation?” Gideon demands, spit flying as his anger flares. “You are no more than the universe’s favorite puppet. Mindlessly obedient to its every demand.”

Hearing the truth always hurts, but hearing it from Gideon is especially torturous. Din’s creed to the universe has dictated his actions the entirety of his existence. He never fought against its orders, never thought of his own desires as more important than what it wanted.

Until he matched with his soulmate. She changed his priorities and shifted the center of his entire world by revealing to him even Death could experience love.

There had been no hesitation when he broke his creed for her.

And he doesn’t hesitate breaking Ahsoka’s promise now.

“I just murdered your soulmate right in front of you and you do nothing. Did you ever love her at all?”

“I do.”

Din summons every trace of power and darkness he possesses and combines them together within his core—a volatile, pulsating mass of pure chaos. His beskar armor starts to crack and chip away, unable to withstand the increasing pressure.

He thinks of his angel’s smiling face, the sound of her laughter, how bright her soul shines, and he thinks all those things are gone now. Not even a chance to say goodbye.

“More than anything.”

And Death lets go.

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