#not even like oh he doesn’t reply for months on end sometimes i just mean like you randomly hit me up i’m not bound to return this

[2amriize]

˚⟡˖ RIIZE angry confessions

ᡣ𐭩 masterlist genre angst, fluff pairing riize x reader

ᯓ★ SHOTARO

Shotaro had been in love with you for a while, but he always felt that you only saw him as a good friend. Because of this, he decided not to confess his feelings. You two had known each other for years, and although he only realized his feelings a few months ago, he had always felt a bit strange when he saw you with other guys. Back then, he didn't admit it, but he was jealous. He couldn't understand why, despite laughing with him more than anyone else, you still seemed to prefer other guys. Deep down, he felt like he wasn't enough.

Since he realized he was in love with you, you hadn’t mentioned liking any other guys, so Shotaro hadn't felt jealous in a while—until it happened.

One day, while you were having an afternoon snack at a café with Shotaro, something you did often, you spotted a guy from your class who you thought was really cute entering the café. You couldn’t help but feel nervous.

"Oh my god..." you murmured, trying to look away.

“What’s up?” Shotaro asked, turning to see what had caught your attention.

“It’s that guy from my class… He’s…”

“Oh, do you have a crush on him?” Shotaro glanced at the guy for a few seconds before turning back around and letting out a small sigh. “He’s not good for you.”

“Huh? Why do you say that?”

“He looks like trouble. And I don’t think he’s right for you.”

Shotaro had never said anything like that to you before, and it made you a bit angry. What was he implying?

“Since when do you care about what's good for me, Shotaro?” you asked, giving him a serious look, clearly upset by his words. He looked back at you in silence for a few seconds.

“Since I…” He bit his lip and shook his head. “Nevermind.”

“Since what, Shotaro? Why do you suddenly care about the guys I like? It’s none of your business…”

“Because I’m in love with you, Y/N!” Shotaro cut you off, standing up and looking at you intensely. “That’s why, alright? Are you happy now?” He grabbed his things and stormed out of the café.

ᯓ�� EUNSEOK

It was the way Eunseok looked at you that made everyone else realize how much he liked you. Well, everyone except for you. From the moment he met you, Eunseok knew he had feelings for you, but there wasn’t much he could do about it because at the time, you were dating someone else.

When you broke up with that guy, Eunseok was there for you whenever you needed him, supporting you. But that was all he could do—be by your side—because he felt like you didn’t see him the same way he saw you. Even though everyone always mentioned how Eunseok looked at you, you would always reply with, “I don’t know why everyone keeps saying that, Eunseok looks at everyone like that…”

To be honest, sometimes you had thought about it—whether Eunseok really had feelings for you like everyone said—but it didn’t make sense to you, so you would quickly brush it off. On the other hand, Eunseok was finding it harder and harder to contain his feelings. It never seemed like the right moment to confess, especially since you had been going through an on-again, off-again relationship with the same guy for a while, something Eunseok couldn’t stand.

“You got back with him again?” Eunseok asked with a sigh as you both sat on the grass at a friend’s birthday party. You had stepped outside to get some fresh air.

“Yeah… I feel like it’s what I should do.”

“Why, Y/N? Sometimes you make the dumbest decisions…”

“Excuse me?” You looked at him, surprised by the way he spoke. Eunseok had always supported you, and this was the first time he sounded frustrated. “It’s not dumb…”

“Isn’t it? To keep chasing after someone who doesn’t treat you the way you deserve?”

“What do you mean, Eunseok? He treats me well… we just have a few little fights sometimes. Besides, I go back to him because he’s the only one who cares about me at the end of the day, because…”

“Oh my god, Y/N, how can you be so blind?” Eunseok interrupted, looking at you with clear frustration.

“What…?”

As he stood up to go back inside, he murmured, “I don’t understand how you can’t see that the person who loves you the most is right in front of you…”

ᯓ★ SUNGCHAN

Sungchan had been looking out for you since day one. You had known each other since elementary school, and ever since then, you had always been together. He was always by your side, making sure you were okay and safe. You two spent so much time together that people who didn’t know you well often thought you were dating, something you always denied immediately to avoid awkwardness.

Sungchan never took it personally when you denied it—he tried to brush it off quickly—until it happened in a situation unlike any other before. You had never had a boyfriend, mostly because you hadn’t really been interested in any guys… until now. There was this one guy you’d been noticing lately, someone you found intriguing, but you hadn’t told anyone about it because it made you a little shy.

To your surprise, your friends invited this guy to a lunch gathering that you and Sungchan were also attending. When you saw him approaching with your friends, you couldn’t hide your nervousness, which Sungchan immediately noticed. And, as usual, the guy asked how long you and Sungchan had been together.

“No, him and me? We’re not a couple. Not at all. Never,” you said quickly, letting out a nervous laugh.

Sungchan stared at you in silence. He couldn’t believe what you had just done. Normally, you would simply say, “No, we’re just friends,” but this time, it felt like you had overreacted, and it hurt him. As you continued talking more with the guy, Sungchan started to feel left out (and jealous), so he let out a small laugh and walked away to another spot.

It took you a few minutes to realize Sungchan was no longer there, behind you, where he had always been. Confused, you quietly excused yourself from the group to go find him. After searching for a bit, you finally found him leaning against a tree, sipping his drink. You approached and touched his shoulder, and he looked at you with an expression you had never seen on him before.

“Why did you leave, Sungchan? Did something happen?”

“It seemed like you didn’t need me there anymore,” he said, turning his gaze away from you.

“What do you mean?”

“I didn’t know you hated the idea of people seeing us as a couple… or rather, that he saw us as a couple.”

“Sungchan, you know that’s not it. We’re not dating, you know? I always say the same thing. I don’t get why you’re acting like this now…”

“I’ve been following you around like a lost puppy since the day we met, yet you couldn’t see?” Sungchan turned to face you, locking eyes with you for a few seconds.

“What… what do you mean…?” you murmured, feeling your cheeks heat up.

“It’s… nevermind,” he said, walking away.

ᯓ★ WONBIN

Wonbin was a friend of one of your friends, and although you had met him several times before, you didn’t really start talking until a few months ago. To both of your surprise, you had a lot of common interests, which meant you had been talking more and more lately.

Whenever you hung out with your group of friends, it wasn’t unusual for you and Wonbin to spend the entire time together, which led to people starting to suspect there was something going on between you two. However, everyone knew that you had been interested in another guy for a while, a guy who constantly gave you mixed signals. But you were so blinded by the way he treated you that you couldn’t see he was just playing with your feelings.

This was something Wonbin knew, and it was starting to bother him more and more. At first, he didn’t care much, but the more he got to know you, the more frustrated he became with how this guy was treating you. And that’s when he realized that maybe he didn’t see you just as a friend anymore. The moment he came to that realization, he regretted it, knowing that you only had eyes for someone else, and he felt like you’d never notice him.

One evening, you were hanging out with your friends, and for some reason, you all decided to drink. Wonbin wasn’t very good at drinking, so it didn’t take long for him to get tipsy, his cheeks flushed. When Wonbin got drunk, he became even more affectionate than usual. You had also been drinking, but it didn’t affect you as much.

At one point, Wonbin went outside to get some fresh air because he was feeling a bit dizzy, and you followed him to check if he was okay. While outside, you started talking about the guy you liked, and unlike usual, Wonbin didn’t respond or pay much attention. When you noticed he was staring off into the distance, you looked at him.

“Wonbin? Are you okay?”

He stared at you for a few seconds, and just when it seemed like he was about to say something, he sighed and buried his face in his hands, muttering, “Do you like that guy so much that you can’t see what he’s doing to you?”

“Huh? What are you talking about, Wonbin? He treats me really well…”

“Yeah, that’s what you think…”

“You don’t have the right to talk about him like that when you don’t even know him,” you said, getting annoyed at how Wonbin was speaking badly about him.

After a few seconds of silence, Wonbin looked at you and shook his head.

“…This is why I knew I shouldn’t have gotten close to you.”

“What are you talking about, Wonbin?”

“I just… wish you wouldn’t keep seeing that guy.”

“You don’t have the right to say that.”

“I wish I did.”

ᯓ★ SEUNGHAN

Everyone, even you, knew how much Seunghan liked you. But you always ignored his feelings because you preferred not to face that reality. You had been friends for so many years that you didn't want to risk your friendship over it. Still, you couldn't deny that you treated him differently from everyone else, being much more affectionate and always relying on him when you needed someone. Seunghan was always there for you, no matter what. It didn’t matter if you were on the other side of the city and only needed a pen—he would come and bring it to you. That’s how much you meant to him, and everyone could see it.

That’s why, when he heard from others that you were starting to get to know another guy, he felt his heart break a little. He knew you two weren’t a couple and that he had never confessed his feelings, but it still hurt to find out from someone else, especially when you knew how he felt. The thought of you with another guy was something he couldn't stand.

He tried to distance himself from you for a while after hearing the news, but he just couldn’t. He couldn’t say no when you asked him to pick you up from class to take you home, even though he knew you probably had an important date. Despite knowing this date might be with the other guy, he couldn’t bring himself to refuse, so he picked you up just as you had asked.

The whole ride, he was quiet and serious, something you found odd since Seunghan had never behaved like this around you. He was always so sweet and cheerful when he was with you.

"Seunghan, is something wrong? You seem really serious," you asked when he parked in front of your house after the silent ride.

"No, don't worry," he murmured without looking at you.

"I know something’s bothering you…"

"Don't you have to go get ready for your date?"

The way Seunghan looked at you and the tone he used when mentioning your date made you realize he knew about it, and he seemed quite upset.

"Seunghan, you know I care about you a lot, but it’s just…"

"You know. You know I love you and took full advantage of the fact that I'd do anything for you. And I know that. I just kept at it, hoping that one day you'd value me just as much."

You froze after hearing Seunghan’s words. You couldn’t help but feel bad for making him feel this way, though it was never your intention. Before you could even respond, Seunghan spoke again.

"Just… get out. You’re going to be late."

ᯓ★ SOHEE

There had always been a sort of romantic tension between you and Sohee. Both of you were playful and touchy with each other, but that was all—just tension. Even though you both probably had feelings for each other, neither of you had confessed.

In fact, you were always waiting for him to confess, but that moment never seemed to come. The longer you waited, the more tired you grew of holding onto hope. Yet, despite that, you couldn’t seem to let go of the idea of him.

Knowing all of this, you still couldn’t ignore the guy who approached you at the party. You had come to the university party with Sohee, but he had gone off to talk to his friends. The guy, someone you hadn’t seen before, wasted no time approaching you once he saw Sohee wasn’t by your side.

You two talked for a while, and the guy even brushed your arm occasionally while locking eyes with you. You couldn’t deny feeling a bit nervous around him. He was charming and very attractive. After chatting for a bit, you excused yourself to go to the bathroom, promising you’d be right back.

You didn’t expect to find Sohee waiting for you outside the bathroom. You quickly noticed he’d had a few drinks.

"Sohee, have you been drinking?"

"Who was that guy?"

"Are you talking about the one I was talking to earlier? He’s a new guy at our faculty. He’s pretty nice. I was about to go back and talk to him."

"Don’t go back to him," Sohee muttered, lowering his head.

"Sohee, you can’t decide what I do."

"I know I can’t, but I don’t want you to talk to him again."

"Sohee, you’re just drunk and saying things that don’t make sense," you said, walking past him, heading back to the party.

"Y/n, I love you," you heard Sohee murmur as he grabbed your wrist, only to let it go after a few seconds. You looked at him, stunned, for a moment. "Is that what you wanted to hear? Are you happy now?" he said before walking away into the party, leaving you standing in the hallway, unsure of what to say or do.

ᯓ★ ANTON

You and Anton had been best friends for as long as you could remember. You went to the same school, and your mothers were close friends, so you spent many summers together. Even after graduating, you both ended up attending the same university, so you still saw each other daily.

It felt like you two were inseparable—until you started getting to know another guy. It took you a while to tell Anton about him since you’d never really talked about that kind of stuff before. When you finally did, you thought he took it well at first, but you noticed him starting to act strange, becoming more distant.

Although he said nothing was wrong, he always had excuses to avoid walking home with you, claiming he had plans to study with classmates in a café, something you found odd since he didn’t like studying in public. Even so, you decided to trust him and give him the space he seemed to need.

One day, as you were heading home, you spotted Anton walking in the distance. It had been a while since you’d seen him in person, so you decided to catch up with him. He smiled briefly when he saw you, but then quickly looked away and started walking faster.

"Anton, I feel like you’ve been acting weird these past weeks. Is something wrong?"

"Huh? No, you know… exams, new people… It’s just that. Nothing’s wrong."

"Are you sure? I feel like you’re pulling away from me, and if I’ve done something wrong, I want to know."

"Nothing’s wrong, y/n. You’ve just got other friends now, and I get it," he mumbled coldly. You stood there, thinking for a moment. In high school, you’d made new friends, and yet you and Anton still acted like you always had. Why was this time different?

"I feel like you’ve been off ever since I told you about Ricky…"

"Y/n. I just… don’t want to talk about it."

"Well, I do, Anton. I feel like you’re being selfish, only thinking about how you feel and not about how you’re making me feel," you said, frustrated, stopping in the middle of the street. Anton turned to look at you, serious.

"Well, I’m sorry I fell in love with you, okay? But it happened, and I can’t do shit about it."

"You… what?"

Anton stared at you for a few seconds, pressing his lips together before turning his back on you.

"Forget it, y/n. I’m just tired from all the studying."

ᡣ𐭩 masterlist taglist: @regularsuh @gacktsa @totheseok @kkumistars @taroddori

[lilgynt]

people will talk to me, i will be me, and they are shocked what am i DOING

[vngelicc]

w e c a n ’ t b e f r i e n d s

⋆ TAGS — ANGST like rlly bad, toxic relationships, oc and jk dated since they were young, canon au but the boys don’t go to the military, arguing (lots), protected sex, cowgirl styleee, jk’s a little mean, dirty talk, jk’s slightly possessive(?), pussy eating under the sheets, slight face fucking and cum swallowing, bad ending oop, hinted cheating but not between oc and jk, does it count if they weren’t together ur honor, making out, jk’s a really bad bf, oc’s also quick to jump to conclusions sooo toxic combooo

⋆ WORD COUNT — 9.8 k

It’s the same thing (over and over) where you fight and break up, then kiss and make-up. The cycle’s everlasting and it feels like you’re just going in circles.

The littlest things were enough to set either one of you off. It could be that Jungkook looked at you some type of way, or that you used a tone he didn’t like. You fought over the dumbest things but somehow always ended up back together?

Childhood sweethearts, they called it. You started dating all the way back when you were just teens, Jungkook was a bit awkward around the edges but the sweetest boy ever. It was a miracle your relationship survived after he left to train and then you did too.

But as the years went on it seemed sometimes like the love was fading. It just wasn’t the same anymore (evident in your frequent fights). What felt like love once now felt stagnant, like you two just existed in each other’s world and co-existed together.

Yes he was your boyfriend, and you his girlfriend but that was all. Just y/n and Jungkook. It didn’t feel special anymore. When did the love start to die out?

You’ve been thinking about it for a while now in between your breaks from the relationship, and the very thought terrifies you.

“I thought you and Eunwoo were going out?” You softly asked, a bit surprised to see Jungkook still here in the living room.

“Change of plans.” Jungkook shrugs, “Something came up.” He’s curt and brief, doesn’t even look at you when he’s talking which annoys you a tiny bit but for your sake and his you don’t comment.

“Oh, that sucks,” you softly say and slip onto the couch opposite of him, “did he cancel on you or was it just not a good time?” You’re sitting on pins and needles watching him and his reactions closely.

“I dunno,” Jungkook sighs like he’s exasperated by the conversation, “he didn’t tell me.” You know he’s starting to get annoyed when he does that thing with his tongue inside his cheek.

“You wanna watch a movie?” You quietly ask. You’re worried Jungkook didn’t hear you at first but a couple of seconds later he’s nodding and holding out the remote to you.

It doesn’t feel right. It makes you feel like he’s generously giving you the light of day to entertain your “silly ideas”. You don’t like it.

You go about picking a movie, not even bothering with asking him what he wanted to watch. You doubt he’d even reply to you, maybe if you were lucky he’d just say “Pick whichever one.”

“I heard this one’s good.” A hum, “Came out—I think, last month..? Yeah.” Another hum, “Should I bring snacks?” Head shake.

You kinda get the memo and shut up after that, the ache you’re feeling still lingering in your heart. The credits roll in and the movie’s starting, you look out of the corner of your eye to get a look at Jungkook. He’s just sitting there quietly, eyes focused on the TV screen.

It feels normal—looks normal, but you know and feel that it’s really not.

After arguing with yourself in your head, you finally muster the courage to slip off the couch and into Jungkook’s side. You hide your face in his shoulder and lean against him comfortably. Jungkook doesn’t respond for two seconds before he’s casually slipping his hand over your knee.

It feels..good again. You, Jungkook, and his thumb that caresses your knee ever so gently like you’re made of glass. Maybe you really were worried about nothing. It was probably your head messing with you again and making you think things that weren’t true.

Are they though? I don’t know.

“Oh how prettyy,” you softly marvel at the white dress the actress on screen was wearing, “I wanna have one like that when we get married.”

Jungkook doesn’t utter a word and at first you’re like okay, it’s whatever he’s been doing this already anyways. You don’t really begin to think about it until you feel gentle caresses come to a stop. You turn to him to ask what’s wrong but you think you have your answer.

“What, you don’t wanna marry me?” You softly joke but you’re met with silence. He looks troubled, like he wants to say something but can’t get it out, “.. Jungkook? What’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing.” Jungkook shakes his head, “I was thinking.”

Your stomach does that weird thing again where it feels like it’s dropping. You can hear your own heartbeat ringing in your eardrums too, “About?” You whisper.

Jungkook finally meets your eyes with a pinched expression, “I don’t know if I’m sure about marriage yet, I don’t think I’m ready.” He quietly explains, “I don’t feel ready. I feel like there’s so much more I can still do before settling down.” With you…?

Your eyes almost water but you refuse to let them, “So..you don’t want to marry me?”

“What–no, I said I wasn’t ready,” Jungkook blinks rapidly, “I.. I didn’t say that.” He says once he recovers from the initial shock.

“Then what did you mean?” It comes out snappier than intended, “Because to me it feels like something else.”

Jungkook grows visibly irritated, “y/n you’re blowing shit out of proportion again, I didn’t even say anything about you specifically, why the hell are you twisting my words?”

“You make it sound like I’m being weird about this, you were the weird one when all I said was a tiny joke. You’re the one taking it some type of way.” You’re trembling with adrenaline.

“I was just telling you how I feel,” Jungkook stands up and paces back and forth, “why are you being like this? You always wanna say it’s me who starts arguing but look at you!”

Hot tears of anger well in your eyes, “Because it is always you! You give me weird ass attitudes when I’ve done nothing to you, I barely even talk to you!”

Jungkook pinches the bridge of his nose and closes his eyes, “I’m not doing this again with you. I just fucking can’t, I mean fuck, look at us! All we fucking do is fight, fight, fight and you expect me to wanna marry you? To be stuck with this? No thank you!”

You wipe your tears and stand up, “And there it is, at least I know how you really felt. Saved me my time too.” You glare as you pass by him in the direction of his room.

Jungkook shakes his head, “Where are you going? It’s late.” He calls out loudly, “y/n, answer me.”

“I’m going home Jungkook, it’s fine we’re done. We don’t have to keep doing this anymore.” You look back with dry tears, “I’m done too, I’m tired of pretending everything’s okay when it’s not.”

He doesn’t respond to that, he knows it’s true. “At least let me walk you out to the car.” He quietly murmurs.

“No.”

“y/n, don’t–”

“Leave me alone.” You whisper and storm out of his apartment, away from your home without your heart.

+

It takes three weeks for you to realize that he’s not coming back. He hasn’t texted or called and suddenly it feels real. You were in deep denial the entire time thinking maybe he’d come around and you could talk it out like you always do. He never showed.

You don’t like this, it hurts like a deep ache you can’t seem to get rid of. You find yourself choking up every time you think about him, you don’t want this. You never wanted this.

“Fuck, please,” you whisper shakily. A few rings go by and then you finally hear him.

“..y/n?”

“Jungkook, I need you.” You softly whisper into the phone, “Please..?” He goes silent on the other end and with each passing beat you’re more worried and anxious.

“Where are you?” He softly replies.

“Home.” You quietly croak, the relief filling you in an instant.

“Okay, stay right there I’m on my way. Please just—just sit tight okay?”

You nod like he’s right here in the room telling you face to face, you don’t even know why. He stays on the phone with you in comfortable silence, you hear when he leaves his apartment, when he starts his car and when he finally pulls into your parking garage.

“Is the door the same code as before?” Jungkook asks quietly.

“Yeah..”

“Okay, I’m here outside.” He hangs up the call briefly and then you hear the beeping noise of your front door unlocking.

The sight of Jungkook has your heart breaking into millions of pieces when you realize he’s not yours. Not anymore. You blink away the fresh tears welling up, he visibly softens and holds his arms out for you.

“Come here.” He softly murmurs. You don’t waste a second and cross the living room into his arms in an instant.

Jungkook wraps his arms around you tightly and holds you against his chest. He shushes you softly and sways side to side while you softly cry into his chest. He whispers everything’s going to be okay but it’s not—not with him not by your side.

“Sit, I’m gonna go bring you some water.” Jungkook softly says as he leads you over to the couch.

You nod quietly and watch with red rimmed eyes as he walks off into your kitchen. There’s a million things running through your head right now but you were more concerned with Jungkook. You hated how distant he was, it felt alien-like and weird.

“Here,” Jungkook murmurs as he comes back with the glass of water, “I brought some tissues too.”

You quietly accept with a soft thanks as you wipe your nose and take a tentative sip of water. He watches you with pity in his eyes, and you don’t want him to look at you like that. It makes your skin crawl and leaves you frustrated because you didn’t want his pity.

You just wanted him.

“So what happened?” Jungkook quietly asks after a few minutes of letting you gather yourself.

“I miss you and it just hurts so bad the way things ended. I’ve been regretting it and it hurts–” You can’t even finish because you’re already tearing up again and Jungkook hushes you softly.

“I know,” he solemnly says, “I know it does. Trust me you’re not the only one feeling like shit about this, you think it’s easy for me to let someone I’ve loved walk away after years? It’s fucking hard.”

He sighs shakily, “But I know that if I truly did love you and wanted the best for you, I’d do this. I just can’t keep up anymore, all the arguing is just not good for us y/n and you know it.”

“I know, I know.” You say into your hands with a sniffle, “But I don’t feel like letting go.”

“Me neither,” Jungkook gently brings your hands into his and looks into your eyes, “but we can’t keep going like this. We tell ourselves it’ll be fine but it’s not, it never is.”

You stare silently into eachothers eyes until Jungkook finds his voice again, “Which is why I think we should just take a break for I don’t know how long but we need to work on ourselves. If you truly loved me like I do to you, you’ll let me go and work on myself. You’ll want me to get better.”

And it’s true. You’ve only ever looked out for his best interest and wanted nothing but good things for him. But is it so bad to want to be a little selfish?

“I know.”

“So you understand we have to actually put in the effort if we want this to work out in the future? We can’t half ass this and rush into things anymore, that’s not how I want it to be between us.” He whispers softly.

You look at Jungkook miserably, “Yeah, I get it..” You quietly say, “I just..just promise me you’ll still be here in the end.”

Jungkook cups your cheek gently and smiles which doesn’t look genuine, it's a more sad bittersweet smile. “I’ll be here.”

“Okay..”

“Okay.”

+

You’re not together but it doesn’t feel like you’re not together? You don’t know how to explain it but it’s weird.

Before it was obviously a shitshow with all the arguments and whatnot. Several things actually like Jungkook’s attitude and his weird bipolar moods, and then you with your misinterpretations and spiteful words. It’s different now.

It almost feels like you’re happier with him now than before when you two were actually together. It’s funny that it takes a break up for you two to start being civil and loving—more than before actually. You don’t act like exes, and you both know you don’t.

Exes don’t call each other every night to ask how their day went, neither do they sleep over or cook for each other. It’s one thing to call up your ex from time to time but everyday? Were there no boundaries because you two clearly needed to set some.

Your friends tell you they’re proud but you don’t feel so good knowing you’re still going back to him every night. Sometimes you fuck, sometimes you don’t, most days he’ll just want company or someone to come with him to shop for groceries. You do all these things telling yourself you’re just here for support, nothing wrong in that right?

There’s nothing wrong with being friends with your ex, right? That’s all it is, just friends.

“Hold on, I'll be back, I got a call.” You excuse yourself from the table and head into another room for more privacy. “Hello?”

“Hey, are you doing anything right now?” It’s Jungkook again and it makes your tummy flutter with butterflies at the sound of his voice.

“Uhh, not really? I’m just having some dinner with friends, why?”

“No reason I just wanted to see if you could come over and maybe we can watch a movie or somethin’. I also realized I might have ordered a little too much fried chicken, old habits die hard I guess.” He jokes softly.

You think it’s a little cute and you can’t help but say yes right away, “Let me finish up real quick and I’ll head over in a bit.” You’re smiling like an idiot right now.

“I can come get you..? Only if you want me to though.”

“That sounds good to me, text me when you get here then.” You softly say, “Bye.” It’s a little awkward not saying ‘love you’ but then you remember you’re not technically together and your entire mood is soured a little.

Shit, what are you going to tell the girls? Something came up and you have to go? No, they’ll ask and you’re a horrible liar. Plus you’re stressing out a little over how you’re going to leave undetected, what if Soyeon tries to walk you out to the car or something? You don’t drive but Soyeon has a habit of walking you out whenever you leave her house (god bless).

It’s moments like these that make you wish Soyeon wouldn’t offer, just for today.

“Hey what’s up?” Soyeon says when she sees you re-enter the room, “Everything good?”

“Yeah but I forgot I had a meeting coming up, it’s about a comeback coming up soon and they need me for creative directing or something. Point is I gotta go guys, sorry.” You don’t like lying to them like this but they’re gonna give you shit and right now you don’t want to hear it.

“Oh cool, okay then we’ll hang some other time then yeah?” Soyeon smiles as she begins pushing her seat back. Oh no.

“Stay here it’s fine, the car’s almost here anyways and it’s a bit chilly outsideeee so stayyy.” You whine while pushing her back into her seat, “Also Miyeon’s literally here, keep her company don’t be rude.”

Both girls look confused as Soyeon raises a brow in question, “Miyeon’s fine she sees me almost everyday. Just let me walk you out weirdo.”

“You’re not even wearing shorts Yeon, just sit this one out I’m good. I’ll text you when I get in the car and stuff okay?” Soyeon doesn’t look convinced but she nods anyways and agrees to let you go reluctantly, “Bye!” You wave and hurriedly make your way out after Jungkook texts you he’s here.

“Byeee.” Once you’re out the door you let out a sigh of relief you didn’t know you were holding in. Why was that girl so damn stubborn? You love her to death but now was NOT the time.

jk: outside

You hurried down the hall and to the elevator. Jungkook was waiting for you in the parking lot outside of his car, just leaned back against the hood of it with his hands in his pockets. “Are you cold?” He asks as soon as you come in front of him.

“A little bit,” you smile and sink into his warm and welcoming embrace, “you’re super warm though.”

Jungkook chuckles quietly and strokes your hair, “Here I’ll give you my sweater.” He shrugs it off and holds it out to slip you in it, “You look funny.” He laughs.

“Your face is funny.” You stick your tongue out meanly meanwhile he laughs, “Alright hurry up, I’m cold and hungry.” You pull away from him and head to your side of the car, happily sighing as the warm air from inside hits you.

“I thought you ate already.” Jungkook snorts in amusement as he slips into the car.

“Well I’m hungry again.” You grumble.

He doesn’t respond verbally at least, he shifts the car into drive with a tiny smile on his face. You find yourself leaning back into your seat with a soft smile of your own. Times like these you were able to just sit back and forget about everything and anything. The only thing that mattered right now was you and Jungkook.

That’s it.

.

The movie ended up becoming background noise over the soft sounds of Jungkook’s lips meeting your own over and over again. The food lays discarded on his coffee table, half-eaten with a couple of soju bottles littering around the boxes.

It feels good like this with Jungkook’s hand tangled in your hair and his other settled over your hip. You’re sitting halfway in his lap, the angle a bit awkward but doable nonetheless. You hear him release a low grunt in his throat, lips smacking wetly over your own as he tightens his fingers on your hip.

You thread your fingers through his hair, stroking over his head gently pretending to not notice how he leaned into your touch eagerly. You barely even notice when he impatiently drags you onto his lap and sits you firmly over his thighs, your own bracketing his hips and closing him in.

“Jungkook,” you quietly sigh while bearing down on him and grinding over the thick bulge in his joggers.

“Yeah..?” He replies through a quiet sigh as his half-lidded eyes watch down below between you two where your clothed cunt is pressed tight to his hard cock.

You can’t reply because you’re caught off guard by a bubbling moan in your throat. You find yourself gripping the collar of his shirt tightly between nimble fingers when he suddenly bucks his hips up sharply. The print of his dick presses tighter against your slick folds, the head messily bumping into your throbbing clit.

Jungkook lets out a ragged groan as he tilts his head back and parts from the messy kiss, a string of saliva connecting your lips. He guides your hips with both hands as he rolls you over his cock and holds you down to keep you in place. It makes your breath hitch and a stuttered moan slip from your lips.

“Fuck..” You pant softly as your toes curl, “Need you so bad.” You whisper in between the short rough grinds.

He bites his lip harshly and reaches down to unbutton your jeans, you help him slide them off as he hooks his fingers under your panties and tugs them to the side. You feel his fingertips slide through your messy folds, circling over your swollen bud and pressing down with the pads of his fingers.

The slide’s pretty slippery, you barely feel his touch but the pleasure bubbles over and leaves you tingly and hot down there. Jungkook teases you by dipping his fingers low against your fluttering hole that greedily squeezes around nothing. “Don’t tease,” you mutter softly and lean forward to press kisses against his jawline.

“Fuck, wait.” He reaches over and blindly pats the sofa for something you can’t really be bothered to look at. A low hum leaves him when he finally finds what he was looking for: condom.

You watch him bite the foil open and reach down to shove his sweats off, the way his dick slaps against his stomach has you squirming in anticipation. He hisses low through his teeth as he strokes the tip slowly before rolling the condom on. You watch hungrily as his cock’s engulfed in the thin rubber, standing hard ‘n tall with a beady pearl of precum getting trapped within the condom.

“Good?” He mumbles once he positions his cock under you, the tip’s barely brushing over your hole before you’re whining at him for more.

“I’m good,” you wrap your arms around his neck and tug him closer, “now fuck me..please?” You say after a couple of seconds of silence.

Jungkook huffs out a breathless laugh and shakes his head, “You’re cute.” His amused tone dissolves into a low moan when you start pushing his cock in, inching yourself down until your perk ass meets his thighs with a low pap noise.

Fuck you forgot how full he makes you feel when you ride him, your poor little cunt’s all stuffed up with his fat cock. It doesn’t help that there’s a little sting from the stretch with the way your pussy hugs his cock tightly. Jungkook though looks blissed out, he bites his lip and watches through hooded eyes, he’s moving his hands to grip your hips tight.

“Feels so good,” you slur out and start bounding idly, not too fast or slow, “feel..full.” Your tone comes out lewd and borderline pornographic. Can he blame you? His dick always fucked you stupid, turned you into a little yapper too.

Jungkook grunts quietly, “Yeah? You’re gonna be a good girl and ride me like you mean it baby?” The words slip out of his filthy mouth like nothing, you almost forgot the nasty shit he used to tell you when he was plowing your brains out on a Tuesday night.

“Y-Yeah,” you gasp softly as your eyes flutter shut when he hits that one spot you like, “so, so good Jungkookie,” you whine quietly while rocking your hips back and forth, your cunt greedily swallows him up through every push and tug.

Jungkook groans low and moves his hands to settle over your ass cheeks, he grips each cheek in his hand and squeezes, kneading the flesh under his palms. “Shit–like that,” he huffs softly as he guides your hips in smooth fluid grinds, “so fuckin’ good.” He groans again and tosses his head back.

You bite on your lower lip to supress your whimpers, your hips bounce lightly in his lap with a low fopping sound as Jungkook’s cock coaxes more slick out of your pussy. You’re dripping through the sides as a low squelch emits from your sopping cunt. Through the soft moans and grunts you there’s a skin on skin slapping sound your ass makes when they meet his thighs.

“Oh, fuck.” You whisper, breathing picking up as your hands slide down to settle over his abdomen for purchase.

Jungkook’s lips part, eyesbrows pinching together in concentration as he watches you fuck yourself languidly on his cock. His body lightly rocks upwards from your eager bouncing, the slapping noises only get louder the more you grow desperate. He can’t help but land a hard smack on your cheek, watching in satisfaction as you mewl from both pain and pleasure.

“You like that baby?” He breathlessly asks, “Like being slapped around like a slut? Hm?”

“Y-Yeah,” you gasp shakily and throw your head back, “love it so much Jungkookie,” you mewl.

Jungkook moves one hand from your ass up to your head, fisting the back of your hair and forcing you to expose your neck for him. “How much?” He grunts low, “Whose cock makes you scream like this?”

You swear the ache in your skull from him yanking on your hair makes you even wetter. The throbbing in your pussy has you wildly grinding against him for more, you can’t even reply because of the uncontrollable moans you’re letting out right now.

“Answer me,” he hisses with another smack to your cheek.

“You do! Only you,” you softly sob as he stops you and holds you in place, “please ‘m so close, wanna cum.” You try to bounce, move, anything—but he’s not letting up as he holds you in place and leaves you squirming all over his cock.

“Cum.” Jungkook darkly murmurs as he begins fucking into you from below, his sharp thrusts send you flying into his chest as you cry out.

He drives his cock right up against your g-spot with each hit, the living room quickly fills with the sounds of his balls hitting your ass and the couch creaking from the weight. He doesn’t hold back on his moans either, he’s cussing and groaning under his breath as he uses your pussy to his liking. You on the other hand..

“Jungkook..!” You feel your pussy clamp down and you reach down to rub at your clit in fast circles, trembling and whining as your orgasm approaches fast.

He grips your cheeks tighter and spreads you open as he fucks his cock in and out of your sloppy cunt. Your mouth falls open as the wind is knocked out of you, you’re coming fast and hard as stars explode behind your eyelids. You feel like a ragdoll in his hands as he fucks away into your oversensitive cunt.

“Shit—nearly there baby,” he whispers as his eyes flutter shut in pleasure, “oh fuck.” He grits his teeth and bucks up hard until his hips are stuttering in their pace and he’s groaning loud.

You wish he wasn’t wearing the condom as you feel every little throb and twitch inside. It makes you drool at the thought of his hot thick cum filling your ruined little pussy, it’d probably drip afterward too..

“Good?” He quietly asks as he tries to catch his breath.

You end up laying your head on his shoulder for a couple of seconds, enjoying the way he rubs your back gently in a comforting manner. “Yeah, ‘m okay.” You softly reply while clinging to him like a koala.

Jungkook hums, you don’t go home after that, or the day after.

+

“Damn when did it get so hot?” Taehyung complains under his breath, “Swear it feels like the weather was cooler yesterday, don’t tell me summer’s already coming.” He groans.

Jungkook hears Hoseok grunt in agreement, “Can you believe spring’s almost over though? We’re like a month away from summer starting.”

“What? No way.” Jungkook frowns, it can’t be, the last time he spoke with you was—

“You realize we’re in the last month of spring right?” Taehyung looks at him weirdly with a snort, “Have you been living under a rock or something?”

Hoseok joins in on the teasing but Jungkook doesn’t think it’s so funny anymore. Not when he realizes it’s been almost two whole months since you and him decided to take a break. He hasn’t really kept up with your life like that, the last time he spoke was when he asked if you were home and then he did go over and you guys ended up—

Holy shit.

“Jungkook,” Hoseok calls out, “your phone’s ringing.” By the looks on their faces they know who’s calling right now. Hoseok looks mildly disappointed and Taehyung just seems tired of it.

“Are you gonna answer it?” Taehyung asks tentatively.

Jungkook looks at your caller ID and then silences his ringer, “Nah, I’ll see what’s up later. Where do you guys wanna go next?” They look at him like he’s crazy and Jungkook sighs, “What?”

“We didn’t know you guys were still together, thought the breakup was for good.” Hoseok quietly admits.

Oh. Right, Jungkook’s been talking about how you’ve both been separated for a cool minute now. Of course they would naturally think that you’ve both finally realized you’re no good and left each other the fuck alone. He’ll never forget their proud faces when Jungkook admitted he walked away from it.

“Look, she’s a good person and all that but is it really worth it if all you do is fight and tear at each other? I mean it’s not like this is the first time.” Taehyung rambles slowly as Hoseok nods along to every word, “Don’t you think that maybe answering her would fuck up all the progress you’ve made so far?”

Will it? Jungkook likes to think that maybe he’s doing a good job but clearly not if Taehyung and Hoseok are calling him out on it. Of course they want the best for him too, they’ve been his hyungs since forever (but you were his forever too).

“Look I know it’s bad,” Jungkook sighs, “but I just can’t leave her like that either, it’s wrong. She’s been in my life since we were kids Tae, I’m not gonna just ditch her like that.”

“And nobody’s mad at you for it but Jungkook c’mon, you need to set some boundaries for your sake man. You can’t fall back into this nasty habit, not when you’re doing so good for yourself right now.” Jungkook knows Taehyung’s referring to his upcoming Golden album release.

“Listen, we’re not gonna police you because you’re a big boy and you can deal with your own shit but I’m just telling you right now it’s not a good idea whatever you’re doing with her right now. The sooner you begin to pull away, the easier it will be when you two finally decide on the future of your relationship.” Hoseok finishes quietly.

They’re right and Jungkook hates that they are. As unsettling as the truth is, that’s just what it is and Jungkook can’t change that.

You’re broken up but why does he still go over? Why does he cook for you two, watch movies in bed like a couple and then fuck you to sleep before the cycle repeats over and over? Did you ever break up to begin with?

“If you want this to work you need to let go.” Taehyung’s hand comes up to squeeze his shoulder, “Some things were not made to be forever, and unfortunately this is one of them.”

Jungkook looks up at the two men in front of him, they’ve each got reassuring smiles on their faces and for the first time he feels good about his decisions. He makes a mental note in the back of his head to speak with you later on, for now he’ll just enjoy this.

+

“I didn’t know you and Jungkook were still together.” Soyeon comments upon seeing a sweater she knew was too big to be yours and quite frankly wasn’t something you’d personally go out and buy yourself.

“Oh, that—we’re actually not.” You chuckle under your breath, “He left it here the other day–”

“The other day?” Yuqi frowns, “What do you mean? I thought you guys haven’t seen each other in two months?” You can tell they’re equally confused about the situation.

“We aren’t together-together, we’re just kinda hooking up here and there whenever we feel like it.” You shrug.

“Uh-huh, and he just leaves his clothes too?” Soyeon raises a brow, “y/n—babe, I love you but what the hell? I thought you and him were completely done already?” She says, Yuqi nodding along in agreement.

Now it’s your turn to look at them confused, “What? We’re just hooking up, it isn’t anything bad either I mean we’re doing better now than before.”

Soyeon sighs deeply and sits down, “Have you maybe thought about why things are better now? Because you’re not together y/n, you’re only doing ‘better’ now because you don’t have a label to the relationship because you’re both pretending shit’s okay.”

“This can’t be good either y/n, it’s not healthy it’s just gonna lead you both down the same path as before. You guys think that because you’re happy now, the issues aren’t gonna be there.” Yuqi shakes her head.

Of course you knew they were gonna start with this but your pride was too strong to admit that they were of course right about this. It’s something you’ve been intentionally ignoring, kind of like if you don’t think about it, it’s not true type of thing. Which in itself was a pretty bad mindset.

“But we’re gonna fix things.” You softly reply.

“Are you?” Soyeon looks like she doesn’t believe you, you don’t even believe yourself.

Yes, yes, yes—

“I don’t know.” You find yourself saying without thinking, that’s the truth right? Right..?

Yuqi sighs sympathetically and shakes her head, “It’s time to let go, it’s over y/n—for good. I know it’s hard love but you have to do it.”

“I’ll…talk to him later about it, can’t guarantee this but I’m going to try to break things off permanently.” You’re just tired of this back and forth with yourself wondering if Jungkook and you are truly going to be okay.

You know you both will be okay…just not together and that’s what hurts the most to think about. They don’t push the topic anymore, something you’re thankful for. The entire time you’re with the girls you’re stuck thinking about Jungkook.

you: come over

You spent at least ten minutes with your thumb hovering over the button before you actually pressed it. It shouldn’t be so fucking scary but you’re just extremely nervous right now. Your friend’s words ring in your head over and over again like a mantra and you feel like you’re going mad.

jk: rn?

you: yea, really want to see you

jk: me too.

read.

It’s the shit like this that makes you question everything. You hate how weak you are because Jungkook can sweet talk his way into your head and you wouldn’t be able to stop him. It’s not like he does it intentionally but still the power he holds over you, it’s stupid.

After the girls left you ended up cleaning the living room a bit, stopping in your tracks when you came across the sweater he left behind. You stare at it for a couple of seconds before slipping it on finding it much more comfy wearing his clothes. You hear the front door keypad beeping before it unlocks and Jungkook’s slipping in.

“Hey.” He greets quietly and shuts the door behind him.

You smile up at him and tug on the sweater paws, taking note of the sweaty state he was in, “You coming from the gym orrrr…?”

“Oh yeah,” he laughs, “I just got finished with working out when you texted me. Look at that,” he flexes his bicep to show you, “hot huh?” He grins.

“Ew no as if, go take a damn shower you probably stink.” You pretend to cover your nose and gag, giggling when he rolls his eyes at you.

“Yeah, yeah whatever.” He walks over to tug you into his arms, “This my hoodie?” He mumbles, “Looks good.”

You let him lay soft kisses over your pouty lips until you’re pushing him away with a low grumble, “Go shower now, I don’t wanna stink of sweat in your hoodie.” You snort.

Jungkook lays one last kiss over your forehead and walks in the direction of your room, “So mean and for what? It’s literally my hoodie who cares if it stinks? I’m gonna be taking it off anyways.” He smirks deviously.

You follow with a unamused look, one that leaves no room for anymore arguments. “I’ll wait for you out here,” you flop on the bed and turn on your TV, “go on, shoo.”

“Meanie.” Jungkook mumbles but makes his way into your bathroom nonetheless.

You catch up on some of your shows you were watching at the moment while waiting for Jungkook to come back out. You’ve long made yourself comfortable in bed, curled up under your soft comforter with the remote in hand. He doesn’t come out for at least fifteen minutes or so, you don’t really mind because it feels oddly domestic.

“You’re watching this too?” Jungkook breaks the silence in the room, “I’m on the last episode.”

You barely look at him as he walks over to the bed in nothing but his towel wrapped around his waist. “Yeah, I started this like a week ago I think.” You murmur distractedly as he flops in bed with you, “Don’t get my pillows wet,” you whine with no real bite to your tone.

“It’ll dry.” Jungkook snorts as he lays his head over your blanket covered lap. The two of you fall into silence afterwards with him loosely wrapping an arm around you.

Nothing happens after that, you lay together quietly while the episode runs in the background. Occasionally Jungkook turns to hide his face in your lap, you can’t help but slip your hand in his wet hair and gently comb over it, lightly scratching at his scalp.

“Wouldn’t it be funny if I spoiled it?” He pipes up out of nowhere.

“Do it and I’m throwing you out towel and all.” You glare as he starts giggling in amusement, “I’m serious, do it and you’re out.”

“I won’t, I won’t.” He says as he lifts his head up, “But I’m a little bored,” he pouts and draws circles over your thigh, “I already watched these episodesss.”

“I dunno do something. Go order food or find some in my fridge, I don’t know.” You sigh.

Jungkook doesn’t reply and instead nuzzles into you, “I have something else I can do in mind..” He trails off and slips his hand under your comforter to stroke your thigh.

You don’t say anything, instead you part your thighs for him as a silent ‘go on’. He takes the bait easily and slips under the comforter with a devious grin, “Jungkook– ow, don’t bite me you ass. Why did you do that?”

Instead of answering you he just reaches under for the waistband of your shorts, peeling them off alongside your panties in one go. You can feel his hot breath hovering over your pussy, his tongue dips low between your soft folds as he licks a stripe up your cunt.

He circles his tongue around your clit, swiping from side to side and front/back. It’s enough to have your knees buckling weakly as you reach over the comfort to place your hand where his head would be as you sighed in pleasure.

“Like you better when your mouth’s full.” You find yourself mumbling.

Jungkook grunts in affirmation, he wraps his arms around your and tugs your hips closer to his face. He’s literally buried in your soft cunt, nose poking at your clit while he licks over your slick lips, sucking on your soft fold with a pleased hum.

You push up with a low moan and angle your hips down so that he’s licking over your swollen clit. “Shit, jus’ like that,” you tilt your head back and close your eyes enjoying the sensation of his tongue.

He lays one hand flat over your pelvis and holds you down while he sucks on your clit feverishly. It sends your back arching off the bed from the sudden spark of pleasure. “Fuck..!” You hiss out when he engulfs your tiny bud between his lips and sucks.

Jungkook doesn’t disappoint. He slurps and licks like no tomorrow while he prods his fingers against your pussy. You’re literally scrambling to get a grip on him, your pathetic little moans and whines spurring him on as he finally slides his fingers deep.

“More, gimme more please,” you mewl.

You hear him shuffling around down there so you naturally take a peek out of curiosity. The sight has your mouth dropping in awe when you come across him fisting his cock from under the sheets while he eats you out like you’re the best meal ever.

“Coming,” you gasp softly as your fingers tangle themselves in his hair.

Jungkook sucks harder with a hint of teeth, he curls his fingers at the same time and fucks them right up against the roof of your cunt. It has you crying out his name and pushing his head away as your pussy clenches tight and then suddenly you’re gushing all over him.

“Jesus,” he whispers and covers your cunt with his hot mouth, licking up the entire mess you made all over yourself.

“Come here.” You dryly whisper after noticing he didn’t cum.

He obeys without hesitation, he knows what you want so he climbs up and kneels beside you with his weeping cock over your lips. “You sure? I don’t mind.” He murmurs.

“I want to.” You softly reply and part your lips, “Don’t want you to be gentle with me.. I can take it.” You murmur as you engulf the head of his cock slowly.

Jungkook hisses quietly and guides your head until your nose is meeting his groin. You gag around him with the saliva quickly building up in your mouth. He doesn’t mind though because he absolutely loves it when you slobber all over him.

“Don’t you look pretty with a mouth full of cock?” He grins teasingly despite being minutes away from coming, like he wasn’t edging himself before when he was eating your cunt.

You moan unabashedly as tears spring in your eyes. He doesn’t waste anymore time after that and begins fucking into your mouth unapologetically. He doesn’t even start off slow, he’s desperate to cum and you get it. You’re salivating at the thought of his cock filling your throat and leaving you sore.

He grips the headboard above to stable himself as he slides himself in and out of your mouth. Jungkook moans under his breath as he bucks his hips rather harshly, just listening to the sound of your gags and saliva dripping.

“So fuckin’ good,” he mutters, “you take it so good for me.”

You know he’s getting close when he starts getting quieter and instead puts his attention on his pleasure. The only noise around is the sound of your gagging and his labored breathing. You feel his cock start twitching and throbbing until he’s shouting from the pleasure and coming down your throat.

“Shit—stop, stop, stop.” He sighs as he gently pulls you off his cock, “Fuck.” He says after catching his breath.

Cleanup is fairly quiet, he helps you change the sheets and get dressed into comfier clothes before you’re both climbing back into the bed and sitting side by side, body to body. It feels all too real and suddenly realization is hitting you hard.

The silence is comfortable between you two, the scene feels a little familiar (you, him, a movie and your head on his shoulder) but you don’t comment because it makes you feel a little uncomfortable. Like before, Jungkook caresses his hand over your thigh gently with a comforting grip after.

“Why did we ever fall out?” You quietly pipe up, “Like where did it all go downhill?”

He stops in his tracks, he doesn’t look mad or upset that you brought it up out of the blue. He looks..at ease. “I don’t know, but I think it has to do a lot with the fact that we slowly grew out of each other? Kinda like we just lost the love and it wasn’t the same anymore, and instead of trying to fix it we just acted like our problems weren’t there.”

Jungkook calmly continues after taking in your reaction, “I love you don’t get me wrong, you’ve given me the best years but I just think we finally grew apart. Think about it—the fights, the breakups and make ups? We got to a point where we just didn’t care anymore.”

“I know, but it still doesn’t change the fact that I want you forever.” You softly admit.

���No you don’t y/n,” he replies equally softly, “you don’t want us—this, forever.”

It’s like a punch to your gut, why is he saying this? Why is acting like he knows what you want? You know what you want, and you want him. Is he trying to call you a liar? A saner part inside of your head eerily tells you he’s right, you don’t want that. You want happiness.

“I do know what I want actually, why are you thinking otherwise? You’re making a decision for me without even asking me how I feel about this?” You frown and push yourself off his shoulder.

“y/n,” Jungkook pauses briefly before shaking his head, “trust me I know you don’t want this. It’s not hard and it doesn’t take a fucking rocket scientist to see we’re not made for eachother. I’m sorry I need to tell you like this but whatever the fuck we had is something I sure as hell don’t want.”

It literally crushes your spirit because you knew what was coming, you KNEW he was going to tell you the cold hard truth sooner or later. It’s all everyone's been warning you about and now you have no room to cry about it. You had nobody but yourself to blame for your heartbreak. Not Jungkook, not Soyeon, not Yuqi.

Just you.

“You know what Jungkook, fuck you.” You fiercely whisper and push yourself off of him, “No actually, fuck you. You don’t get to tell me what I want and don’t want–”

“Because I know what the fuck I want and it’s not you! As fucking sad as it is y/n I can’t do this shit anymore,” he stands up too and begins hazardously dressing himself in his clothes again, “I know what I’ve done is shitty and I hope you can forgive me for it but I’m not willing to stick around anymore. Not after this.”

You watch in silence as he picks his things up off the floor and storms out. Not one word is spoken throughout the entire ordeal. Jungkook gets his shit and leaves like nothing ever happened, like you didn’t tell him to fuck himself and he didn’t respond by saying he didn’t want you.

When he finally leaves with a loud slam, your resolve crumbles and soft sniffles begin to fill the too empty apartment. You look around the room with red-rimmed eyes, now what are you gonna do?

You fucked up, again.

+

Jungkook doesn’t talk to you—doesn’t even text—for a total of two weeks and counting. You tried distracting yourself with work and your upcoming comeback but it was hard to focus. Not when your mind keeps going back to him and what happened that night.

“You don’t look so good, you sure you’re okay?” Your manager says with a look of concern on her face, “I can wrap things up and we can get you home if that’s what you want.”

“Please,” you find yourself nodding, “I’ll um let you know later on how I’m doing and stuff, for now I just wanna be alone.”

They understand you’re not doing well emotionally as of lately so they don’t question it when you request to be left alone. They simply wrap it up and call for your driver to take you home. A few staff send you off with tiny gifts and comforting hugs but none are enough to take away from the misery you’re feeling right now.

You make a quick stop at the store on your way home, you’ve never felt more dead in your entire life than right now. Even buying groceries proves to be a hard task but you somehow push through it and buy what you need.

The entire time you're there you think about Jungkook, should you call him to clear things up? Apologize for the shitty things you’ve ever said and for how you’ve acted towards him over the slightest inconveniences?

‘The phone’s right there,’ a little voice inside your head whispers, ‘just open up and click on his name, he’s right there.’

Do it, do it, do it, they chant.

Before you even realize it you’re dialing his number, the phone pressed tight against your ear as you wait with a bated breath for him to pick up. Three rings go by until finally Jungkook picks up with a quiet ‘hello’. “Hey,” you quietly mumble, “what are you doing?”

“Nothing much, I was cooking about a minute ago. You?” He sounds distant, like he’s catching up with an acquaintance.

“Cool, and nothing either, I just went to the store and bought a few things I needed.” You play with a strand of loose hair, suddenly finding that much more interesting to look at.

“That’s good.” He murmurs and it goes quiet after that.

Neither of you know what to say right now, you don’t even know where to begin. What can you say? Hey I’m sorry I told you to fuck yourself? I’m sorry for my shitty ass attitude? I’m sorry for being a bad girlfriend? There’s so much to say but you can’t find the words for it.

“Jungkook,” you hesitantly say after finding the courage to speak, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry for everything, I know I fucked up over and over again but I want to let you know I’m sorry I treated you the way I did and for the things I said.”

Jungkook doesn’t say anything and for a second he scares you thinking that he hung up or something. “I know, and I’m sorry too for the way I acted and shit. I know we haven’t been the best but for what it’s worth none of this was ever your fault. Things just didn’t end up working out.”

You hate that this feels like a permanent goodbye, it must have really been the last straw for him the last time you spoke. You find yourself tearing up and there’s a heavy lump sitting in your throat. You don’t know whether you want to cry, scream, or run off.

“It’s just hard when I miss you this much,” you quietly reply despite the wobble in your voice.

“I know,” you hear him take a deep breath and before he can reply you hear it.

There’s a low shuffling noise in the back, at first you think nothing of it until you realize it’s a feminine voice asking Jungkook if he wants her to help clean up the mess.

Your heart rapidly beats in your chest, the pounding in your ears so loud you swear you feel like you’re going to have a heart attack with how fast it’s going. “Didn’t know you moved on already.”

“It’s not like that–”

“Then what is it like Jungkook? Because to me it sounds exactly what I’m imagining right now—don’t try and treat me like I’m fucking stupid.” You wipe your tears of frustration while pacing back and forth.

“Okay fine, you want the truth: I met someone and I’m getting to know them, I’m thinkin’ maybe she can make me happy too. Is that what you wanted to hear from me?” He snaps back.

“When.” You coldly demand, the anger you feel right now is astronomical.

Jungkook holds his breath for a few seconds, “A month ago.”

Your entire world stops then and there. So while you and Jungkook were doing these lovey dovey things and still seeing each other, he was already talking to someone new. All this and for what? He found someone new while still using you as an escape from reality (for fun really), and to know he was doing this while having someone on the side waiting?

It makes you sick to your stomach.

“D-Don’t you ever come near me. We’re done, so fucking done. How could you fucking do that to me? You knew how I fucking felt about all this and you went and pulled this? I hate you, I hate you.” You can’t even speak, it physically pains you to talk.

Through your sobs you manage to shakily hang up and head for your bedroom. You toss a bunch of clothes on the bed and drag your heavy suitcase out of the closet. You don’t know where you’re going, but at this point you’ll go anywhere if it means you can get away from this place.

All that’s left is the sounds of your sobs and clothes shuffling as you stuff them into your suitcase messily. You feel so alone and empty wondering what everyone else in the world is doing right now. Surely not getting their heart stomped on like you, right?

As you're finishing up with your closet, you hear the front door beep and buzz. No, no, no, he is not doing this right now you think while storming out to the living room. He’s already coming in as you’re stepping out.

“y/n–”

“What the fuck are you doing here? I told you to leave me the fuck alone!” You throw a vase in his direction watching him yell out in shock as he barely manages to dodge it.

“Fucking hell—calm down! You’re gonna hurt yourself!”

“And why do you care? You didn’t before so what’s fucking different now!” You wipe your face and stomp to your bedroom with Jungkook hot on your tail.

He tries to grab your arm but you rip yourself away from him in fury which makes him get the memo instantly, “I’m just trying to make sure you’re okay, I don’t want you to hurt yourself or do anything stupid.” He stops in his tracks when he sees the state your bedroom’s in.

“y/n..what are you doing?” He quietly asks, his doe eyes filled with surprise and a mix of fear.

You take a deep breath and hold it in for a couple of seconds, letting it out slowly when you feel calm enough to reply, “I’m leaving Jungkook, all this—I’m done. I had hopes that maybe we could solve things and make it work again but it looks like only one of us wanted this.” You smile sadly.

“I choose myself Jungkook, I did some petty shit and said dumb things and I’m sorry for it. Looking back on it, it was me who refused to move on. I was so hung up on making things work I just didn’t realize I was dragging you down and forcing you to be with me.”

Jungkook visibly deflates with hurt written all over his face, “I’m sorry too, I never meant to lead you on and if I did I’m so sorry for it y/n. You deserve someone who can make you happy, and I’m sorry that someone can’t be me.”

You stand across from each other in silence. Jungkook looks down at your luggage with his own sad smile, “Maybe..we could be friends?”

“No,” you softly reply and get back to packing, “we can’t be friends, but I’d like to pretend.”

“So this is goodbye then.” Jungkook’s got his own unshed tears ready to fall.

“Yeah, I guess so..”

He looks up at you and tearfully smiles, “Goodbye y/n.”

You match his smile with one of your own, “Bye, Jungkook.” Maybe in your next life you will both be happy. But not in this one.

For now, it’s only me and maybe that’s all I need.

+

One year later.

“It’s only gonna be for two weeks, you big baby. You’re acting like I won’t get on a plane and go see you.” You laugh softly and shake your head, “Besides, I thought you were taking me to the beach in LA?”

“I am! But I wanted you there with me,” Mingi looks at you with pursed lips, “wanted you to see me on stage.”

You can’t help but coo and squeeze his cheek, “You’re so cute, don’t worry I’ll make sure I don’t miss it.” He smiles happily and you can’t help but lean in for a smooch on the cheek.

“Oh wait, I saw a guy selling ice cream back there. Wait for me right here, I’ll be back.” Mingi heads back to all the food stalls leaving you there in front of this cafe.

You hum under your breath and check on your messages, replying to friends who slid up on your story asking if you were finally back. It felt good to be home after all that went down before, you really needed the break.

“Hold on, I got it, let me carry it for you.” You hear a familiar voice say which instantly has you turning around to look.

It’s Jungkook and he still looks the same as before minus the hair he’s cut short now and has it in an undercut. You feel weird seeing him again after all this time. Weird in a good way? You don’t know, but it isn’t bad either. You kinda don’t feel anything.

You curiously look over at his girlfriend(?), stopping in your tracks when you notice a pretty ring on her finger. It suits her. You look back up and come face to face with Jungkook who stands there in shock too.

There’s a million things you can say or do right now, but you don’t. In fact you’re happy for him.

“Did I take long?” Mingi suddenly pops up behind you holding two ice cream cones, “I got your favorite.” He grins foolishly.

You break away from Jungkook and look at Mingi, “Thanks, how sweet of you.” You grin and lean in to kiss his cheek again, “Ready to go? I’m kinda tired of being outside.” You complain softly.

Mingi lets you take the cones from his hands and instead wraps his arm around your waist leading you through the crowd of people. Your heart races as you two get closer to Jungkook and his fiancé. Just for a second you meet his eyes, and then you smile before turning your attention back to Mingi.

Jungkook smiles back and just like that, you move on with your lives.

My love, I won’t wait for your love.

TAGLIST: @fragmentof-indifference @jungkooksseuphoria @kooliv @angelarin @jjeonjjk7 @lilliankoo @pb-n-juju @ellesalazar @saweetspoiled @laylasbunbunny @prettyprincejk @cherrysainttt @hyunjinswifeee @joongraduatewithonor @hellbornsworld @leire-mia @m1sss1mp @lissful @winkii @lifeless-firefly @exactlygreatcoffee @taestoess @ayalies @floweryjeons @softtcurse @lilspinachwrld @tearyjjeon @littleobsessedkitty @lovelovelovebts @angeljmnie @rerefundslocals @bangtans-mama @thvhoe @maddkitt @tvse @ohjeon @teteswtnr @jkslovey12 @kelsyx33 @milfpo1ice @sluttydidi @ztyur @beomgyuult @shescharlie @sweet-sourhotcoco @lalita-7 @hazzzelsdimension @p34rluv @kook-net @bonita0-0 @vmapy @dahliadaenerys @frieschan @lilyflowerguk @sayokodiary @babycandy111 @looneybleus @ash07128 @gyukookswhore @rrosiitas

[fingertipsmp3]

I think one of my closest friends is pulling away from me and I’m like 70% sure it’s all in my head but that conviction is dropping day by day because all the evidence says she does not want to interact with me. And it is absolutely fucking heartbreaking

[skulla-rxcks]

A wolfs puppies

Paring: werewolf!chan x fem reader

Rating: explicit

Genre: smut

Warnings: cr3ampie, breedlng

Day 31 of k-tober

Taglist: @f3lix00 @channiesgoodgirl @mal-lunar-28

!THIS IS PURE FICTION, NOTHING IN THIS IS REAL ITS JUST A STORY!

A/n: sorta pt2 of werewolf in heat, it’s not needed to read it but you’ll understand what’s happening better if you do :)

P.s; i’m afraid kinktober has come to an end, thank you for all the new supporters and all of the reads on my stuff throughout this month, as much as it’s been tiring for me, i’m really fucking thankful for all of you <3

It’s been a while since I’ve been in the woods, after what happened last time I mean; a whole fucking werewolf fucked me against a tree, definitely something that wouldn’t happen on a daily day basis, hell. I didn’t even believe in myths like werewolves before then. Maybe I should go back and see how he’s doing, If I remember correctly Chan was his name.

Anyways I should probably head off now, maybe I’ll bring him some food too? Maybe I’ll meet others like him sometime. I sigh going to my fridge and grabbing a chunk of cooked beef, he’d eat that right? Either way, I slip on my boots and exit my house, as I shut the door I think about why the fuck am I going out at like 12AM again, but whatever I guess, it’s a full moon tonight so hopefully that’ll up my chances of him showing up.

I made my way to the path once again and begin to walk down it, a smile forming on my face as I see the familiar trees get closer and closer to me. I continue to walk down the pavement until I reach the lake, taking a seat on the log before frantically looking around if I can find the strange creature from about a week ago.

The stars are brighting so I pay my attention to them as I’m waiting for the man/werewolf thing to come out of the shadows. It doesn’t take long until I hear a rustle in the bushes, followed along with someone tapping my shoulder.

“Oh, you’re back” a voice says to me, I turn around. It’s Chan, it’s really him. “Y-yeah I uhm, wanted to see how you were doing.” I stutter as my cheeks become visibly flustered.

“Ah, I’m not too bad myself, what about you?” He replies. As I’m thinking of an answer I pull the slab of meat out from my bag and hand it to him. “I’m okay, t-this is for you, I sort of have an idea what you’ll eat but I also don’t..” I turn my head embarrassed.

“Oh thank you~ of course I’ll eat anything from you.” The creature smirks. “So why did you come here this late again? It’s pretty dangerous for a girl to be walking alone in the woods, or perhaps.. you wanted something from me” Chan whispers into my ear before pulling away to see my bright red face.

“I.. I told you, I just.. wanted to see how you’ve been and if you want anything else from me..” a splash of fear and lust runs through my veins, also being visible on my face too.

“Hmm? Only that? Fucking boring, well may I at least one thing. Has your body recovered from me breaking your pretty little cunt yet..?” He grins, taking my hands in his.

“C-chan.. why are you asking?” I question, feeling my cunt grow wet as I drip down my thighs.

“Because I want to fuck you again. I want to breed you, fill you with my puppies and claim you as mine.” He responds boldly with no hesitation at all, making me gasp in shock as I feel my body growing weak due to the slutty words he’s saying to me.

“Couldn’t stop thinking about how fucking good you felt around me. Please, may I?” Chan asks me, I nod in response letting the strange werewolf begin to strip me of my clothes, he unbuttons my jeans and slides my panties off, taking my shirt and bra off slowly after, he licks his lips at the sight of my tits, wanting to touch me, wanting to fuck me, but most importantly; Wanting to pleasure me until I can’t take it anymore.

“Channie… please.” Whimpers fell out of my mouth as he begins to make circular motions with his fingers around my clit, making me buck my hips for more. “Patience baby doll.” Chan chuckles, moving his head down between my thighs and taking my swollen clit In into his mouth and sucking on it lightly. “Mmgh.. more.. I need you inside of me..” I cry out. He thrusts two fingers into my cunt slowly changing the speed and pressure of the thrusts. “There you go, I’m inside of you now”

“N-no..” I whine. “No?”

“Dick.. I want your dick.. I need your cock in me..” I plead, needing more of him so fucking badly.

“You whine so fucking much..” he growls, positioning his tip at my opening before slowly pushing me open, I let out an airy gasp as he does so. It’s almost like I’ve forgotten how thick his cock is. “B-big” I moan, wrapping my legs around his waist as he begins to pound in and out of my tight, wet hole, stretching it really fucking good. Way better than last time we did this. “Yeah fuck.. god you’re such a good girl.” He praises me, this thrusts getting more and more rougher than ever before, making me squeal out in pleasure. “Shh” he chuckles, connecting his lips to mine making our mouths dance together, as well as our tongues.

“Chan..~” I moan into the kiss, feeling myself get tighter as I drive closer towards my orgasm, hoping he also is. “Mm, I wanna fill your pretty hole with my pups..” Chan teases, pulling away from the kiss to watch my face as he’s fucking me good, making my body into his property. “Please.. please” I answer him, wanting him to feel me with his seed until I can’t take anymore. “Yeah? You wanna get filled with my cum until you take all of my puppies?” He teases, a chuckle escaping his mouth as he hears how god damn eager I am for him to thoroughly breed my cunt until his balls are dead empty from spilling all of his semen inside of my hole. “Yes.. yes please, give me your babies.. please Chan..” I beg again, tears beginning to swell up in my eyes from how badly I want this.

“Mm, I’m gonna fill you up. You ready babes?” He smirks, holding my body still holding himself from releasing as he waits for my answer. “M-mhm, do it.. I want to carry your puppies.” I cry out, my pussy tightening around his cock as he finally, fills me up with his seed, not pulling out until he’s certain that all of it’s gone into my womb. I climax not long after, my nails scraping into his back as I cum around him. “Do you wanna come back to mine for a bit? So we’re out of this shitty looking forest?” I ask, blushing. “Of course babes.”

[eff4freddie]

2 Sweet 4 Me | Part Three

Dieter Bravo x AFAB Reader Words: 2.5k Minors DNI

Part One Part Two Epilogue

Dieter knows he fucked up, knows he lost you, knows it hurt and that he deserved it. But if its the way things had to be, the way they were always going to be, predestined as he is, apparently born under a vengeful and unforgiving star, then why does it still fucking sting so much?

This is a love story.

Warnings: Smut, vaginal sex, lots of swearing, angst

The thing about wrap parties is that if you never let yourself get attached to any of the people you work with, it doesn’t hurt when its time for everyone to go. Dieter hated wrap parties, mind already on his next project, if not his next score. He didn’t care to really know anyone, their hopes and dreams or whatever. The way people clambered over each other to feign sadness that their two and a half months together were over, the way they promised to stay in touch just to immediately lose everyone’s numbers, the way people looked through him, plotting how to get the dregs out of him, how to carve up whatever was left. He used to be able to stand it, when he knew he had you to go home to.

He hadn’t dared call you since his late-night Ambien confessions. Part of him wanted to see if you’d call him, if you’d miss him now that you’d heard his voice again, and a larger, wiser part of him knew you wouldn’t, that you shouldn’t, that maybe you and him could debate whether he was good enough for you, but there was no argument that he wasn’t good for you. He’d seen the way your eyes had hollowed out the longer you stayed with him.

Fuck, it still hurt though. He felt the fist clenched tight in his chest, always feeling breathless and slightly panicked at the idea of being alone. You. Without you.

Rudy convinced him to go to the wrap party anyway, that it was important to be seen, then basically held him hostage, refusing to come and pick him up for at least an hour. Dieter had downed one vodka tonic and watched the minutes tick by before he could slip away again. His next job started in three weeks, was shooting in LA, and the studio had let him keep Rudy. Dieter liked Rudy, his dad-vibes weirdly soothing at the end of a long night. Rudy judged Dieter, but only ever fairly.

‘You got a few weeks off from me, my friend,’ he said, from the front passenger seat, because he felt like either an invalid or 100 years old sitting alone in the back. Rudy had let him sit there so long as he promised not to fuck with the radio. Dieter had sat on his hands.

‘You going to keep yourself occupied, Sir?’ Rudy asked, and Dieter shrugged.

‘Might do.’

‘I mean, you gonna keep that nose outta trouble?’ Rudy asked again, and there was that paternal care Dieter realised he’d been missing for most of his childhood, soaked it up now in case Rudy ran dry.

‘Might do,’ Dieter replied, grinning.

He’d just learnt to carry on without you, he realised. Hobbled, but moving. He checked his phone less, sometimes forgot to even look at it for hours on end. He hardly ever cracked open your left-over shampoo just to pretend you were still in the room. He didn’t catch himself reaching for you over the cold mattress at 3 AM anywhere near as often.

--

He nearly dropped his keys. Rudy had dropped him off at his gate so that he didn’t have to back up the driveway, and Dieter had been staring at the night sky, his head fully thrown back as he walked up his garden path, so that he didn’t see you sitting on his stoop until he was nearly standing on you.

‘Baby?’ he said, and you lifted your face to him as he reached for you, pulled you up onto your feet and into his arms, your little coughing sobs reverberating up his neck and bouncing around his skull. ‘Oh, my sweet thing, what?’ he asked, and you cried harder into his skin, your fists raised to his chest, almost like you were trying to hold him away while he pulled you in.

‘It’sjustbeensuchashitday,’ you said, and he reached down to pull your face from his so that he could examine you, turning your face left and right in the porchlight.

‘Tell me,’ he said, and you sniffled, avoiding his gaze, staring instead at his hairline. You wanted to reach up and run your fingers through it, tug on it as he settled his head between your thighs.

‘I…’ you started, and you stopped, because you didn’t know where to start, how to explain, that you had just wanted him, that nothing even really all that dramatic had happened, just fucking Kevin in your fucking office fucking up the finance reports again so now your project was $60k over budget because he can’t add up tax despite being a fucking accountant, and the CEO’s EA had been a bitch to you about trying to get a report signed off after the deadline, and you’d had to settle a couple of bullshit microaggressions between your colleagues because they were incapable of communicating like fucking adults, and your boss had given you a weird vibe all day like she was waiting for you to fuck up just to point it out to you, and the fluorescent lights had given you a headache again but you weren’t able to get an appointment with the optometrist to get those blue light filtering glasses things you’d read about on Instagram for another two weeks, and God sometimes your body just felt fucking wrong and there wasn’t any reason for it, really, except that putting your body against his made it right again.

You paused for breath, exhaling slowly, looking up into his face. It took you a moment to realise you’d spoken it all, out loud. You felt the heat explode on your cheeks at the revelation.

‘Oh, baby,’ he said, and he held your face in his hands as he planted a warm kiss on your forehead.

‘Can’t turn my brain off,’ you said, miserable.

‘You want me to help you forget?’ he asked, heart racing, caught on your words like a rag on a barbwire fence; made it right again, made it right again, your body against his made it right again.

You stared up at him, your eyes red and bloodshot, skin wet with tears. He held you there, in his gaze and in his hands. You weren’t sure you could speak it into existence, if you should. You nodded your head instead.

And then you were in his arms again, wrapping your legs around his waist as he lifted you, carrying you over the threshold and down into the den, his sunken couch appearing beneath you both as he sat, placing you gently to straddle his lap, laving at the skin behind your ear with his tongue. You gasped, your skin on fire and your body shivering, your clothes too tight, his clothes in your way, as you scrabbled for the hem of his tee and pulled it over his head. There, the expanse of his warm, golden skin. The smattering of hair on his chest, his nipples straining in the cool air. You wanted to lie down on it, feel it under your cheek and your palms, taste every inch with your tongue. He was panting, sitting with you perched on his lap, leaning back and looking up at you, his eyes wide as he waited for you to tell him to stop.

You leant forward, biting into the flesh of his shoulder, the urge to mar the perfect landscape of his skin too great. He sucked a breath in through his teeth, his hands coming up to rest on your hips, pulling you down onto his cock, hard and straining under his light cotton pants.

‘Fuck, baby,’ he muttered, pushing you down harder onto his lap and dragging you across it, the heat of your cunt intoxicating. He could smell you again, your perfume and your shampoo and your arousal, your little gasps in his ear as your clit grazed his thighs. ‘You miss me this bad?’

You could only nod, the electric shocks between your thighs pushing the words from your head. You felt his hands travelling, coming around to your front, pulling your top off, lifting the cups of your bra to hold your tits in his warm palms. No one had touched you like this in so long, not since you’d attempted a one-night-stand to see if you could fuck Dieter out of your life for good, and failed at both that and achieving orgasm.

His lips on your collarbone, his cock pushing up against you pussy, your hands in his hair. You’d thought about it, remembered it, conjured it alone in your bed with your fingers in your cunt, and none of it had been anything compared to the real thing, to the smell of him, to his scraggy beard dragging across your skin as he kissed you, hissing in pleasure as you rutted against him. He moved his hands again, sliding them up your thighs as you sat perched above him, sliding them under your skirt and over the cloth of your underwear, groaning when he felt that you were already soaking the fabric.

‘Dee,’ you whimpered, and you moaned when he pushed it to the side, slipping a fingertip against your clit, rubbing tight little circles that he knew would set you on fire. He chuckled to himself, satisfied and impatient in equal measure, as you gasped, your cunt so hot under his touch. He wasn’t sure if this was a dream or not, if he’d finally cracked and was just straight up hallucinating. He wasn’t sure if he was alive or dead, couldn’t account for the events as they were unfolding but just going with them, the pull of his cock guiding him towards you without any consideration as to the consequences.

He didn’t want to give you a chance to reconsider. He slipped a finger inside, all the way to the knuckle, pulling you to him in case you slipped from his grip as your back arched. It was like when you’d first got together, when you were crushing hard on each other, before things had got complicated and sad and sour. Before he’d been neglectful, before the lies had doubled and tripled, before the house of cards he built for the both of you to live in came crashing down around you. He felt it then, the nostalgia and the belief that maybe if you just kept fucking like this, kept pawing at each other, kept up the desire and the need, that you could get back on track, that he could keep you, the idea of it spurring him to switch places, pushing you sideways and onto the couch beneath him as he fumbled to release his heavy, aching cock from his pants.

You lifted your bum as you swept your underwear off your skin, opening yourself up to him as he devoured you, brown eyes trained on your cunt and the need for him leaking out and dribbling into the fabric of the couch. He swiped it with his thumb, lifting it to his lips for just the smallest of tastes to tide him over. You closed your eyes, the heat of it so much you felt the need to turn away, and he reached out and pulled your chin towards him again, locking you into his gaze.

‘Don’t turn away from me, baby,’ he said, leaning forward and positioning himself at your entrance. You watched him, entranced, as he pushed. ‘Never turn away, want to remember your eyes on me, want to remember all of it.’ You gasped, the sharpness in Dieter’s eyes, the focus, reminding you of how present he could be in a moment he determined worthy of his full attention. A little bloom of hurt emerged, one you had carried for months, knowing that he could seemingly turn off his care for you on a dime. You wondered, briefly, fretted, why it was that you had started failing to win it, why he had looked at you this way less and less as time wore on, why he had given up on you, why you had let him, why you had stayed for as long as you had, and then he pushed fully into you, groaned as you took him fully inside you, pitching your hips to grind your clit onto his hipbone, and you forgot it all for a second, obliterated with just the feel of him surrounding and inside you, just the taste of his sweat and the curl of his hair around his forehead, a little crown of thorns visible only in the dark as he crouched above you.

‘Dee,’ you said, and you heard the heaviness in it, the sob of it, as he pulled out and crowded himself back inside, brought himself home and you with him, seated himself inside your flesh. He leant over you on his elbows, cradling your head in his hands as he examined your eyes, the pleasure coursing through him as he saw the catch of your bottom lip between your teeth, felt the weight of it between you, crushing you both as he eased you open, felt the quake of the foundations as you entwined yourself around him, fresh tears on your cheeks as you grabbed for him, drew him in tighter, gasped and groaned and stretched your spine to try and contain it, all that he was drawing from you.

‘Baby,’ he said, a choke in his throat as he caught something rough behind his teeth, recognised it as the loss of you, the grief, no more heard than felt the crashing wave threatening to wash you both away. ‘I know,’ he whimpered, resting his head in the crook of your neck as he continued to seesaw into you, the joy and the thrill of it mixing with the sadness, with the terror, with the pain. ‘I know, baby, I know, I know,’ he mumbled, feeling that you were right there with him, that you were both standing over the cliff edge, knew that once you pulled him over, that once he took you with him, there would no clambering back to the ledge, that this was a goodbye as much as it was a coming home, that he wouldn't get to keep you because you were never his to possess, that you were with him now but that it would be the last time, that you would be gone the second your body hit the ground.

You felt it coming and you did nothing to stop it. Neither of you did.

--

He didn’t watch you dress, couldn’t bring himself to. He tucked himself back into his pants and stopped there, unable to bear putting his tee back on, covering himself when he had bared it all for you so readily and so recently, wanted to expose the nerve to the biting air for just a couple of seconds more. The world had slotted back again, into misalignment, where he realised now it had always belonged.

You didn’t have words, slipping first from his arms and then from his home in silence. You didn’t want to savour the moment, didn’t want to look back to examine and imprint the details in your mind. It was over now, whatever had been crowning was birthed. Nothing now except for the cleanup, for the clearing away.

At his gate the weather turned, an unseasonably cool breeze pushing your hair into your face and teasing the skin where your tears had tracked just minutes, moments, a lifetime before. You felt the chill of it there on your cheek, something new blooming underneath, something worth protecting. You reached up to warm it with your own hands.

Taglist (and massive thank you list!) @harriedandharassed @readingiskeepingmegoing @missladym1981 @misstokyo7love @ghostofzion @dieterbravobrainrotclub @the-feckless-wonder @swankyorange

[mykoreanlove]

Livin‘ together

„Whoa, this place is the definition of extravagance“, you muttered under your breath as you entered the apartment. Felix giggled and placed a sweet kiss on top of your head. „Bin and Jinnie definitely like the lavish life, princess.“

It was the first time that Changbin and Hyunjin invited you over to check out their new place. After moving in together they took their sweet time to make sure that every corner represents them both equally. This apartment felt like a copious mansion, not like a semi-spaced convo in the midst of Seoul.

„So? You like it??“, Hyunjin beamed at you expectantly. „Jinnie, I have no words“, you shook your head laughing. „Oh just wait, you haven’t even seen half of it!“ Hyunjin grabbed your hand and ushered you out of the room, eager to show you the rest of his carefully curated private universe.

„Ah, there goes my love“, Felix joked playfully as his hand grabbed his heart. Changbin handed him a cold beer before sitting down next to him. „Speaking of, how’s it going?“

Felix and you had moved in weeks ago. After dating for a couple of months you took a leap of faith and packed your bags, moving into his comfortable place. Even though things were still fresh, they were also chaotic and challenging at times.

„It’s going good“, Felix replied, trying his best to convince his older friend. „Lix, please. I practically raised you, there’s no fooling me. What’s wrong?“

Felix sighed and took a big sip of his beer. „It’s just… most of the times we’re good. Great, actually. I love y/n and being with her makes me so, so happy. But living together brought new problems, as well as highlighting existing ones.

„What do you mean?“, Changbin tried to follow. Felix was strongly focused on finding the right words to describe the dilemma you were in, he didn’t even notice you and Hyunjin coming back.

„Hanging up portraits of yourself is totally relatable, y/nnie. That doesn’t make me narcissistic at all. If any, it makes me royal!“ You bursted out laughing at his silly remarks but quickly lost your upbeat endeavour as you noticed the stern expression on your boyfriend‘s face. Quickly, you grabbed Hyunjin and hid behind the door, signalling for him to wait.

„Why are we eavesdropping on them?“, he asked bewildered. „Pssshht“, you asked him to be quiet which made him wince in annoyance.

You nodded your head in Felix‘ direction and asked him to listen. „I’ve lived in dorms with you guys for ages, right? I’m used to sharing a place but y/n, she’s new to this. She always used to live on her own, so we’re having trouble…adjusting to one another.“

„Oooooh, I get it. She’s messy!“ Changbin laughed giddily. Felix rolled his eyes, knowing damn well what his friend was referring to. Felix was the epitome of his star sign: known for being borderline neat and tidy.

„Hyung, it’s not that bad but sometimes she drives me crazy. Like when I’m coming back from work and our apartment looks like shit? Yeah, that gets me“, he admitted. „Lix, come on. She’s a girl. How bad can it be?“

Changbin opened another beer and handed it to Felix.

„Imagine coming home and finding worn clothes all over the place. All lights are on but there’s no one home. Imagine not being able to find a single cup because they’re all broken or dirty. Try brushing your teeth with an empty toothpaste because the last one had been emptied but never replaced. And then, once you make it to the bedroom you’re greeted with tousled sheets because nobody bothered to make the bed. Who lives like that?“

Hyunjin glanced your way and mouthed his visible disgust. „Ewwwwwww!“

„Oh, shut up“, you mouthed back and closed your eyes. Suddenly, you felt the room spinning. You’ve always been ashamed of your messiness but hearing the love of your life struggling because of it made you feel worse. You had had those conversations with him, he would explain his side of things and asked you to be more considerate and help out but those talks always ended the same way: you bawling your eyes out, fearing the worst.

„Damn, bro. Sounds tough“, Changbin remarked. „That’s not even the worst part“, Felix continued. „What is then?“ Felix took another sip before explaining further.

„Every time I try to talk to her about it, it ends up with her crying and questioning everything.“ Changbin had trouble keeping up. „Questioning?“ „Our relationship. Our love, even“, Felix explained, his voice tinted with sadness.

Hyunjin‘s eyes filled with tears which he quickly wiped away. He had no idea you were struggling like this. After all those years of being friends, why didn’t you talk to him?

Your head fell against the wall, defeated. It didn’t take you long to think back to the most recent argument.

„Lixie, how can you even love me??“, you shouted at him. This fight had been going on for hours but you weren’t thinking about stopping. „What?“, he asked in disbelief. „I mean it! I never put away my clothes, I always leave on all of the lights, break all our cups and never think of making the bed or buying toothpaste. Why would you want to be with someone like me? Clearly, I’m not good enough for you!“

There it was. The elephant in the room. Finally, you had articulated your deepest thoughts.

„Shit, really? I had no idea y/n felt that way about you“, Changbin replied shocked. „Yeah“, Felix sighed heavily. He had no problem arguing about chores, after all he was the most patient guy in the world. But arguing about you being worthy of his love truly gnarled at his soul. „So, did you talk it out?“

„I tried to. Tried to tell her multiple times that I love her for who she is, flaws and all included. Tried telling her that those things we argue about are minuscule and that we will find a way to make it work. Tried telling her how happy she makes me and she’s more than enough for me. I really tried…“

„But it didn’t get through to her?“, Changbin asked. „No, but I thought of another way.“

„Oh my god“, you muttered under your breath. Hyunjin looked at you expectantly. „What?“, he whispered. Panicked, you started rummaging through your bag, searching for the love notes Felix had left you the last couple days. „What are those?“, Hyunjin asked as he saw you pulling out blue post its. You handed them over without saying a word, too emotional because of your boyfriend‘s sweetness.

Honestly, if I had to pick up after anyone, I’m glad it’s you, y/n. Your clothes may be all over the place, but my heart is all over you.

„Lix wrote that for you?“, he asked impressed. You nodded silently. „That note was placed among my clothes. I found it when I wanted to do laundry“, you explained. Hyunjin nodded proudly, reading the next one.

You light up my life in more ways than one- though we might need to work on the electricity bill. But honestly, baby, I love that you leave a little brightness behind wherever you go.

Hyunjin gasped as he looked up at you. „Taped to the lightning switch“, you whispered. Eagerly, he read the next one.

With all the cups you’ve broken, I think it’s safe to say that our love is unbreakable. As for the remaining cups, you know I like it a bit dirty ;)

„Eeeeewwwww“, Hyunjin remarked as he kept on reading. „Always knew both of you were pervs“, he rolled his eyes judging. „Oh please, I caught you jerking off to your own pictures so spare me that talk“, you stuck out your tongue confidently. Hyunjin did his best to hide his smirk, but failed miserably.

„Anyways, let’s read the next one.“

You’re so good at getting every last drop of toothpaste, but I guess that just means I get the fun of picking out the next one <3

„Let me guess - taped to the toothpaste?“ You nodded eagerly. Hyunjin and you took another glance at Felix who was still deep in conversation. When you had found all those notes, you were thrilled, deeply touched by your boyfriend‘s love for you. But you would have never guessed that he did all of this to make a point. To finally make you realize how loved you were - even if you couldn’t love yourself.

„Okay, this is my favourite one“, Hyunjin smiled.

You might never make the bed but that’s just one more reason I love you - because you’re perfectly yourself, and that’s more than enough for me.

You shared a deep look of compassion with your best friend before entering the room your boyfriend was in, promising yourself to become the best version you could be. For him, for you and your blooming love.

[nhlclover]

𝐍𝐄𝐖 𝐘𝐄𝐀𝐑'𝐒 𝐄𝐕𝐄 | 𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐕𝐎𝐑 𝐙𝐄𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐒

word count: 1.39k

summary: on new year’s eve you finally decide to tell trevor how you feel

warnings: brief mentions of drinking + smoking, making out

I sat at my vanity, putting the final touches on my makeup for the New Year's Eve party I was attending that night. Tate, my best friend, was in the ensuite bathroom straightening her hair and my getting-ready playlist was blaring through a speaker.

“Please tell me this new year I'm not going to be spending midnight next to you?” Tate asked, poking her head into the bedroom.

“You don’t want to welcome the new year with me by your side?” I retort.

Tate rolled her eyes. “That’s not what I mean and you know it,” she said, pointing her flat iron at me. “I know you like Trevor.”

I made eye contact with Tate through the mirror at the mention of him. Trevor and I had only met in September but had become really close in the span of almost 4 months. Trevor never failed to make me laugh, and I never failed to cheer Trevor up, especially after a bad game. Sure, I found Trevor attractive. I maybe even wondered sometimes what it would be like if we were in a relationship. However, neither one of us had done anything to suggest we should be more than friends. And I didn’t like Trevor like that…right?

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I replied, continuing to apply my blush. “I don’t like him like that.”

“Bull fucking shit!” Tate countered. “You have such a fat crush on him.”

“I do not!”

“Y/n, be so for real.” she said, walking into the bedroom and standing next to me. “I think you should kiss him at midnight.”

“What?” I asked, slightly taken aback by her, almost out-of-pocket, suggestion.

“Listen, just ask him if he has someone to kiss at midnight and if he doesn’t you won’t either so boom!”

“That’s never happening.”

“Oh come on.”

I continued to apply my makeup, not fueling the conversation any longer. “Consider it.” Tate sang out, walking back into the bathroom.

I rolled her eyes but the idea of kissing Trevor at midnight stayed with me. When I thought about it, I got nervous. What would his lips feel like? What would he taste like? Would he be soft and gentle? Or passionate and strong?

I caught myself mid-thought and dispelled it. I didn’t like Trevor like that. End of conversation.

The two of us finished getting ready and ordered an Uber to take us the short ride to Trevor and Jamies’ home. When we arrived, there were already quite a few people there, spilling out onto the front lawn. We maneuvered our way into the home, pushing past drunk people and fanning away clouds of smoke, before finding ourselves in the living room.

“It is so hot in here.” I whined, fanning myself. The smell of the air was a combination of drugs and sweat, making my stomach turn.

“Look who I found.” Tate says, waving to someone behind me. I turn around, seeing Trevor walking toward us with a happy smile on his face.

It was clear he put effort into his look tonight as he donned a fresh haircut and a loose cream polo with dress pants. He looked good put together and I would be lying if I said my breath didn’t catch in my throat as I took in his look. He bent slightly, wrapping his arms around my torso, and giving me a soft squeeze. “Welcome, girls.”

“Thank you for having us.” Tate said, accepting a side hug from Trevor. “You look dapper tonight.”

Trevor chuckled, motioning to his outfit. “Thank you, I am in my new year's eve best tonight.”

I look him up and down, admiring the way his pants are snug around his thighs. The sleeves of his button-down are rolled up, exposing the intricate tattoo of an angel on his forearm. I go to look at his face, only to realize he is looking me up and down as well.

“Hey stop eye fucking each other in front of me.” Tate said, pulling our eyes off one another.

My eyes widen and I give Tate a smack on the shoulder, while Trevor laughs it off. “Listen, there are drinks in the fridge if you guys want anything.” He tells us, changing the subject.

“Trevor!” We all hear someone shout.

All of us turn and see Mason walking into the room. “Happy new years guys!” he shouts, pulling us into a group hug. It was clear Mason had already made his way through a shot…or four. “Trev, Matty just got here, I want you to meet him.”

Mason begins to pull Trevor away before he can protest. Before leaving the room, Trevor turned back to us. “I need to see you before midnight! Please find me!” he calls to me, just as he is dragged out of the room.

I turn to Tate, a mixed look of shock and realization on my face. “Oh my god, Tate. I’m in love with that boy.” I say.

“I knew it!” She squeals.

“What do I do?” I panic.

“You find his ass at midnight and kiss him.” She says.

“No, it’s not that easy.” I sigh. “What if he doesn’t share the same feelings?”

“After the way he looked at you there? No chance you’re just a friend to him.” Tate tells me.

I look back at the doorway he just left through, a smile coming onto my face. “Oh you’re so cute when you’re pining after someone.” Tate gushes. “Alright, let’s go get drinks.”

She drags me to the kitchen, finding drinks in the fridge for us. Trevors’ choice of words replays in my head. I need to see you before midnight. Please find me.

I can’t help but wonder what he means. Why did he say he needed to see me? What if he did want to kiss me at midnight?

These thoughts occupied my mind for the rest of the night. Each new room Tate and I walked into, I scan for his face, to no avail. About an hour before midnight, Tate’s boyfriend Eric arrives and suddenly I’m hardcore third-wheeling. I now get desperate in my search for Trevor, his words almost tormenting me now. For a little bit, they help me look for him, but eventually, I can tell they want some alone time, so I leave them and make my way to the backyard.

With less than 30 seconds till midnight, I found myself alone on the patio, looking out at Trevor and Jamie’s view of Anaheim. It was so beautiful, seeing all the lights, especially the moon bouncing off the water in the distance.

Behind me, I hear the door slide open and then shut, briefly letting out the sound of people counting down from 10. I looked over my shoulder, expecting to see a couple looking for alone time, but instead saw Trevor with grateful eyes. The butterflies in my stomach took flight, seeing him with the top two buttons of his shirt undone and his silver chain catching the moonlight.

Trevor walked over to me, a smile on his face. I tucked my hair behind my ears as he approached me, unsure of what was about to happen. As the people indoors reached the end of their countdown, Trevors' hands found my face, grabbing it and connecting our lips. It took me by surprise but by no means did I want it to stop.

He slowly separated himself from me, but not backing away more than a couple of inches. He stared into my eyes for a moment before catching himself.

“I am so sorry, it just happened I-I-”

I lightly grab his chin, causing Trevor to halt his rambling. “Please don’t ever apologize for kissing me.” I say.

I resume the kiss as Trevor, less tense now thanks to my reassurance, slid his hands down to my waist, finding a grip on my hips. My hands fell to the back of his neck, pulling him into me. I slip my tongue past his lips, deepening the kiss and sliding my hands up to his hair. We only broke apart when we heard the sliding door open. People streamed into the backyard, some jumping into the pool.

“Happy New Year.” Trevor said, tucking a piece of hair behind my left ear.

“Happy New Year, Trev.” I replied.

[earth616variant]

the send-off | s.r ; 4

summary | Being his best friend and assistant, Howard Stark asked you to be the first one to be tested on his time machine project. After some unexpected errors, you ended up stuck in the modern times of the 21st century. Where you meet the man you thought died years ago: Steve Rogers.

pairing/s | steve rogers x reader, avengers x reader

word count | 5k+

genres | angst, fluff, crack, time travel au, unrequited love au

warnings | mention of blood, idiots…

note | after months, here's a new update! finally found the inspiration to write again :)) I apologize for the long delay. anyway, let me know your thoughts on this one. enjoy reading!

series masterlist

 “Ugh… What to do? What to do?” you hummed.

It’s been days since your arrival in this era. And so far, everything is fine. Confusing but fine. You were still having nightmares that always woke you up. But you didn’t bother to tell anyone about it. It’s probably a normal reaction.

Since the superheroes in the compound have alternative schedules for their missions, you found yourself rubbing shoulders with whoever Avenger is in the compound. It’s obvious that they don’t want you to feel excluded and made it clear that they don’t mind you asking questions if you find something puzzling. 

You usually bond with the youngest one, Peter Parker, who is always around since he is, based on what he said, “a friendly neighborhood superhero”. It means that he doesn’t go out of the country, like Natasha or Steve, or even this state for a mission since he still has classes to attend and he explains that his aunt won’t let him go anywhere far and dangerous. Understandable, you thought. The kid is only sixteen. But for now, Peter is staying back with his aunt in their apartment while the others are on their missions. He has a schedule for staying between the compound and his aunt’s place. 

Clint is with his family, who you heard lived in this secret farmhouse. Tony is probably home too. You don’t really know. You kind of feel that he avoids being alone with you. Wanda is resting in her room. You don’t want to disturb her as you saw her coming home earlier, looking really exhausted. 

When he can, Steve also kept you company. Of course, you enjoyed talking to him about his life after the whole defrosting thing. But sometimes, you felt like a disturbance or a burden in his free time. You thought, maybe he just wants to rest. Perhaps he just feels bad for you. So, you try to not stay around him all the time if he’s home.

So, you really have nothing to do. You have books but you don’t feel like reading now. You have this novel that you liked so much, you just finished it today. The compound also has this large, flat television but you don’t feel like watching anything either. It’s not like you’re not used to being alone. You’re always alone before! But at least you have a job to take up all your time. With all this free time, you cannot help but miss doing something in the laboratory. Computing numbers or testing prototypes with Howard. You wondered if your best friend ever finished that flying car he kept on re-working. You figured, maybe not. You see that people in this modern time still use four-wheeled cars.

“Oh, hey, Doctor Y/N.”

Sometime in the afternoon, Bruce Banner went out to the kitchen to get himself something to drink. That is where he sees you, looking all bored and spacing out. You forced a smile at him and greeted him back,

“Hello, Doctor Banner.”

“Bruce. You can call me Bruce.” he smiled as he opened a can of rootbeer.

“Then, you can call me just by my name too,” you replied, tapping on the hardbound book you had with you. You tried not to be obvious as you examined his look. With his eyeglasses and white coat, you know he’s been working in his laboratory. 

After taking a sip from his drink, he spoke, “What are you up to in here, Y/N?”

Hearing that question, you instantly sighed heavily, making your shoulder slump, “Nothing really. I’ve been watching the paint dry, Bruce.”

Thankfully, the scientist caught on to your use of words. He chuckled before asking you, “Do you want to go to the lab?”

You swore you jumped from where you were sitting when Bruce said that. He took it as a yes and you two walked together back to his laboratory. Instantly, you were in awe of the place. There are screens and machinery everywhere. You don’t understand how these new gadgets work but you cannot wait to hear about them. This is like something you dreamed of.

“Here.”

Bruce handed you a white lab coat and you immediately grabbed it, wearing it excitedly. Damn, you missed wearing it. You stood next to him in front of his messy desk, which is pretty normal. Notes were everywhere. Even pens and crumpled papers. You’re starting to miss your own messy work table.

“Oh, I’m sorry about that,” Bruce spoke, referencing his desk.

You smiled, “It’s fine. It means you’re really working hard for something.”

Slipping your hands into the coat’s pockets, you wander around the spacious lab. You try to stop yourself from touching anything, fearing that you might mess something up. So like a little kid, your eyes just show your enthusiasm as you watch some type of liquid flow into a transparent tube.

“What are you working on?” you asked, turning your head to Bruce.

“Something that can help the world, hopefully.” he chuckled. He walked next to you, “It’s a serum that may help cancer patients.”

“That’s nice,” you whispered, eyes still distracted.

“Yeah. But it’s still an experiment. This is the first time I’m working on something like this again after I tried to recreate the super soldier serum.”

Your eyebrows raised as you looked at him, “You tried to recreate that serum?!”

Steve did not tell you about that. No one told you that someone in the compound tried to recreate it. You always wondered what Dr. Ernskine did to that serum since it seems very impossible to reproduce. But now that you’re in this modern era, people have more resources and findings. Maybe Bruce succeed.

Bruce stared back at you with a small smile, “It’s what brought me here, Y/N.”

“Cap. You okay?” 

Tony asked as soon as he made sure the auto-pilot was set on the plane. Instead of answering, Steve grunts while pressing a hand on the right side of his stomach. Blood was gushing out from the stab wound he got from this mission. Bucky, on the other hand, also earned bruises on his face and small cuts on his arm. The two admittedly underestimated this mission. They didn’t expect that a hundred members will show up in this cult-like mob they raided. Thankfully, Tony was able to answer an emergency call.

“Those guys really got you cornered. Whoever stabbed you would probably brag about the fact he got to stab Captain America. Too bad he died.” Tony quipped, trying to lighten the mood. He signaled to Bucky to pass him a bandage.

Steve listened with exhaustion running in his veins. He breathed out as he closed his eyes, leaning his head on the surface behind him.

“You know, you got to be more careful now…” Tony suddenly spoke, sounding a bit serious. Steve opened his eyes and look at his friend who was focused on cleaning his wound. It took minutes of silence– since Tony made sure that his wound won’t get infected– before he continued,  “You have a girlfriend waiting at home.”

“She’s not my girlfriend, Tony,” Steve replied sternly.

His best friend still managed to chuckle at that. Steve groaned when Tony slightly applied pressure to his wound. Not that Steve doesn’t like the idea of you as his romantic partner, he just doesn’t want to tolerate this kind of teasing from his friends. They might get used to it and make you uncomfortable whenever you’re with him.

Tony rolled his eyes, “Okay, whatever. But my point is you are Y/N’s closest friend in the compound right now and I don’t think she will like seeing you come back like this. I mean, you already died before and Dad told me a lot of things that happened.”

Steve tilted his head quizzically. He looked at Bucky who shared the same expression on his face.

“What–”

“There.” Tony got up as if he didn’t just say something. He pointed at Bucky. “And you too, buddy. Bring more backup next time. Something worse could have happened. You’re lucky I’m just another country away for a presentation.”

He walked back to his seat as the pilot, ignoring the confusion and curiosity from the two a-decade-old super soldiers.

“That was your last memory?”

Bruce sat in front of you, typing on his laptop as you nodded an answer. A couple of hours after inviting you, you two ended up just chatting in his laboratory. Bruce told you about the time he recreated the supersoldier serum. You learned his history and how he joined this league of superhumans. He was open to sharing his struggle in accepting his power and learning to control himself from being Bruce and the Hulk.

After that, he ended up giving you a tour of his laboratory. You would share how a gadget you had before evolved into what he has now in these modern times. Your curiosity about these said gadgets made his offer to teach you whenever he can and you happily agreed. Although you’re still unsure if you’re staying here for the rest of your life, you think that it will be good to adapt in the meantime.

“The time machine…” your voice trailed off as you brought up the topic. “How did you and Tony make it?”

You’ve been wanting to ask someone about their version of a time machine here. But since Howard’s son was a bit distant, you get to talk about it with Bruce now.

Bruce shakes his head, “It was unsuccessful.”

“It brought me here.” you countered, pursing your lips.

The air around you two was suddenly all serious and Bruce feels it. You were just wondering how they built their time machine. How did they make it work? It was seemingly more successful than Howard’s. Was it because of the current and upgraded technologies? Did they use different formulas than Howard? Did they make their own original version that was way different than what you and your best friend worked on in the past?

 

Bruce looked at you for seconds like he was contemplating if he should tell you. Then, he exhaled, removing his glasses.

“Tony brought the blueprint and basically the whole plan for it months ago. He said he found it when he was digging up in his dad’s office in their old house.”

“Wait.” your eyebrows scrunched together as you paused. You take your time processing his answer. You made sure you understood it by saying, “So… it was originally Howard’s… The blueprint for it?”

He nods, “Yes, Tony found it along with other plans his dad never worked on. We just used other materials than the outdated ones...”

You didn’t really listen to the rest of his words when you heard the first sentence. Your eyes stared at some space. Never worked on? He means, Howard made this plan and never worked on it? Does it mean that if your best friend just worked it, you could have been back earlier than this era? Your hand slowly pressed a hand on your chest and you felt your heartbeat getting quicker Bruce quickly noticed it and you looked up at him with your eyes screaming in confusion and surprise, hurt.

“When did Howard plan it?” you asked. Your voice was weak and you almost said it in a whisper.

Although confused, Bruce replied, “1977. It was written on the bottom of the blueprint.”

Your brain was quick in computing it. It was thirty years after your disappearance. You feel like shaking as you blinked away the tears that were blurring your sight.

“W-Where can I find this blueprint? I want to see it.”

The change in your tone and expression made Bruce ask, “Y/N, are you okay–”

“Where?” you asked again instead of answering.

“Uh, Tony has it.”

You ran your palms all over your face, calming yourself down. You breathe out. You knew you had to stop yourself from crying as you cannot stand doing it again.  It’s pointless. You’ve been tearing up ever since you came here and you have never been this vulnerable. You don’t like it. Before Bruce can repeat a word, you sighed heavily.

“I’m sorry,” you said, shaking your head. “I… I was just surprised Howard planned on building another time machine and never made a move on it.”

Bruce hummed quietly and replied, “It’s fine… Everything must have been a lot to you.”

You chuckled, trying to lighten up the atmosphere, “Yeah, it’s a real bummer and I think it makes me blow a fuse really easily. I swear I was never this emotional.”

If he did it, would I have come back earlier?

The question floats in your head as you set your eyes on the quiet lake just outside the compound. You pulled your knees closer to your chest and rested your chin on your knees. The sky was already dimming down as the sun already set. Nature was quiet and the only loud thing was your brain with all these questions you were asking yourself.

There was a part of you who wished you shouldn’t have just asked Bruce. Maybe you wouldn’t feel this way. But you were always curious about things, so you asked. And here you are, having this moment. As if knowing about Howard’s plans is not enough, you still had thoughts if you can ask Tony about it. You let out an exasperated, hopeless exhale. Maybe not.

“Dr. Y/N!”

You snapped out of your deep thoughts when you heard your name. Turning your head to your side, you spotted Peter approaching with a smile on his face. He waved his hand, and your lips form a small smile.

“Hey… I thought you were staying with your aunt tonight?”

He sat beside you on the green grass, “I’m just staying here until nine. Then, I’ll go back home. I dropped by to see if you’re baking tonight.”

You giggled, “Well, today’s not your lucky day, kid. But I think we still have a few brownies in the jar from the other day.”

“I checked. It’s already empty.” he feigned disappointment, holding his chest, and you two chuckled. “How was your day here, doc?”

“Boring. I haven’t really done much. Bruce saw me in the kitchen earlier and invited me to his lab. I just miss doing something again.“ you confessed with a hint of frustration in your tone. “How about you, kid?”

He shrugged his shoulders, “Eh, just school. I and my friend Ned ended up in detention because he cannot stop talking about this new movie during chemistry class. Then, our other friend, MJ joined us since she said she enjoys going to detention. We planned to eat something after but MJ has a part-time job to go to.” Peter shared and you feel that he was pretty satisfied with how his day went.

“Well, at least one of us got to bond with their friends,” you scoffed. “I have to get used to my friends being superheroes.”

“They are usually busy, aren’t they?”

You nod, “Yeah. It actually made me feel jobless.”

You two laughed at that. You resumed, “I can’t believe I finished two books in a short period– Speaking of books, I was wondering if you could lend me a hand.”

“For what?”

“Oh, you know that novel I’ve been reading these past few days?”

“Ah, the one with the whole time machine plot too?”

“Yes. I… I really loved the book. Is there any way I can reach out to the author? Maybe write them a letter? I just really want to let them know that it’s a good story.”

Maybe it’s because of a lot of free time on your hand. But you just really adored the plot and the novel itself. You found it in the new releases section of the bookstore you went to days ago. But the story was set around your time, in the 40s, and mainly revolved around time traveling, which initially pulled you into buying it. It was accurate by the era it was in, and it made you feel closer to where you came from. Now, you just finished it and it was beautiful even though it was left on a cliffhanger. It causes you something to look forward to.  

“We can try to reach out. Maybe they have e-mail. It’s faster than sending them written letters.” Peter suggests.

You cocked an eyebrow, “What’s an email?”

“Oh, it’s electronic mail. It’s like the modern type of exchanging letters with other people. Instead of asking for the person’s home address, they can just give you their email address. Then, you can send them a message with the computer or cellphone.” he explains and you nod.

“How about your laptop?”

He nods, “Yeah, we can also use that.”

You two ended up walking back to the compound. Peter helped you with creating your own e-mail address and typing your message to the author. You wanted to learn and get used to with using this gadget so you offered to type yourself. He was patient enough to teach you with the keys on the keyboard as you type. 

“So, it automatically saves itself as a draft?”

You moved the cursor on the screen as you glided your index finger on the touchpad of his laptop. It wasn’t a long message but it was genuine. You re-read the whole thing again before passing the laptop to Peter.

“Yeah, what’s the name of the author again?” the boy asked before opening a new tab in the browser.

“Oh, wait…” you reached for the book and read the huge, bold name written on the front cover. “It’s… Donald S. Burton.”

“Okay, we can look for his website. Maybe he has his contacts there.”

His voice trailed off when he began typing on the search bar. It never fails to amaze you how fast this thing can give you answers. It’s like all of the books in the library were compiled into this gadget. Peter input the name and a list of information about Donald S. Burton showed up. There were even images of the man. You cannot help but smile when the old guy reminds you of someone familiar.

“Here is his email!“

“I like these. What are these again?” 

Steve smiled at your curiosity, “Chicken nuggets.”

“Okay. Chicken nuggets,” you repeated. “I wished we had these in our time. I love these and these sauces. And of course, this sundae!” you exclaimed before taking a scoop with the tiny spoon.

Just a couple of days after you talked with Bruce in the lab and sent an e-mail with Peter’s help, you found yourself having a picnic with Steve just around the city. It was a quiet park in the busy city. It was a Tuesday so there were fewer people in the place. He invited you with it after he got home from his mission.

“Should I bake or make something?” you asked him.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to. We’ll be ordering food on the way to the park,” he replied.

“Are the others coming too?” you asked again.

He shook his head, “I… didn’t ask them.”

“Why didn’t you ask them?” you raised an eyebrow. 

Steve seemed to be caught off guard. Bucky, Sam, Natasha, and Peter, who were also in the living room when you asked, smirked and looked at each other knowingly when they saw their leader’s frozen reaction. He stood there awkwardly with his hands on his hips. Natasha was the first to break the silence.

“I’ll be training,” she said.

The others caught on to it and spew their reasons too. Peter chimed in, “I have a ton of homework to do, Doc.”

“I’m visiting my sister in Louisiana,” Sam explained with a scoff. That made you squint your eyes at him. Then you looked at Bucky, waiting for his reason. He seemed frozen like the gears in his head is turning.

“I… uhm… I’m…”

“He’ll help me with training.” Nat saved him. “We’ll do some planning with the next mission.”

So that’s how you and Steve ended up alone on this picnic, which you don’t mind. You had a fun ride going here. He lets you play songs by connecting your rarely-used phone to the car’s stereo.

“How did you learn about that song?” he asked when American Pie played.

You smiled, “Natasha. I heard it from her.”

You ordered food from a fast food chain through a drive-thru. It was exciting as Steve ordered meals you didn’t try before. When you arrived at the peaceful park, you insist on helping him with bringing stuff. He just made you bring the blanket while he carries all the other things. When you found a perfect spot, you laid the gingham blanket on the green grass. You sat comfortably in your casual floral dress before you two began eating.

“Thank you for this, Steve.” you smiled.

“You’re welcome. Thank you for coming with me. I haven’t been on a picnic with someone for a while.” he said.

“You know, before I got in the time machine, I went picnic with my neighbors.” you shared, remembering that day with the Smiths.

“Mr. and Mrs. Jones?!” he asked with surprise.

Your ears perked when you heard that. The Jones were your neighbors before the Smiths. They are the last ones Steve knew since he and Bucky would sometimes fetch you if you were hanging out somewhere. The said couple was a bit grumpy, to be honest. They can hear even the smallest noise you would make in your apartment and would always let you know they don’t like it. 

“Oh, no. They moved out months after you disappeared. Another family occupied their space. Susan and Robert Smith. They have this little kid named Donny. They are much nicer.” you joked.

“Well, that’s nice. I missed a lot of things while on ice.” 

“It was only two years, Steve. Nothing much happened.” you snorted, finishing your sundae.

“A lot of things can happen. I know Howard found the Tesseract while searching for me on the ice… Share some things that happened in those two years.” 

“Okay…” you exhaled. “I bet you already know that they tried making a series after Captain America vanished. You became an icon. Have you seen it?”

You laughed when you saw Steve hissed, “I didn’t like it.”

“Yeah, it was bad.” you cracked up. You only watched that once. You don’t like how they painted Peggy into a character named Betty who was always a damsel in distress. Peggy had complained about it too.

“Anyway, we– Howard and I– tried for like a year to search for you. But he would usually be the one to go on sites and I would always try to come with him. He needs more convincing but it always works.”

Howard often says that going in the field can be dangerous and you would fight back over and over again. You were glad you did because you were with them when they found the Tesseract.

“What convincing did you do?”

“Well, I would say that I’m his assistant. My job is technically following him around. Then when he says no, I’ll say that I am his best friend. I still do have my last reason if he denies me of coming with him.” you said.

“And what is it?”

You paused and just stared at him. Chewing on your bottom lip, you hmmed. It was like you were thinking if you should tell him the last reason for Howard to let you go with him. Steve waits. He tried to be comfortable as he leaned back with his arms resting behind him. He hoped he doesn’t look much curious or nosy. After what felt like an eternity, you spoke.

“It’s… It’s that I am the last one you spoke to while you were on that plane.” 

You looked away from him, avoiding his gaze. You tried to just look at the trees and people from the distance than just look at Steve. Your chest felt heavier when you remembered that time Steve fought that skull and had control of that plane. Steve didn’t say a word so you continued to explain more, just to get it off your chest.

“It would always work since he fully knows that I have guilt living in my system after the country lost you.” you chuckled bitterly. “I felt awfully bad that I cannot do anything to help you during that situation.”

When your voice shook uncontrollably in the last words of your sentence, Steve sat back up and you can see the sympathy in his blue eyes. He reached out for your resting hand, instantly caging it in his warm hands.

“Y/N… none of it was your fault. It was already a dead-end situation. I was the one who chose to crash it.” he tried to reassure you.

“I know, I know,” you mumbled, tears slipping from your eyes. “But I cannot stand losing another person in my life that time, Steve.”

Your tearful eyes met his concerned ones. “We just lost Barnes earlier that year. And I really just can’t lose you… I tried to think of something. Howard was in the same room while I was talking to you on the phone. We tried to make a plan but we don’t have any idea where the hell the plane was and it was moving really fast. It was really bad. I felt helpless. I thought I might have been able to do something to help you but we have no time. I hate that all I can do is talk to you on the phone, hoping that you won’t feel alone, while I prayed silently for some miracle to happen. And it was crazy because  I don’t even remember the last time I prayed before that moment.”

By the time you finished talking, you were full-on sobbing. Your chest heaved and your cheeks were damp from your salty tears. Steve held your hand. His thumb drew circles on it as he lets you cry for more. And when he felt you calming down, he uttered:

“Staying in that call with me until the end was enough for me. I appreciate you for handling yourself very well and being calm with me that time. You are amazing. And you don’t know how relieved I am when I knew you were the one who answered the call. Thank you.” Steve said softly, offering a small smile as he looked directly into your eyes. “You already did much more you know for me that time.”

2/19/1945

Y/N arrived with puffy eyes today. I knew it before she even removed the black sunglasses she had on. I already told her the day before that she have the choice of not going to the laboratory today. But she still did. It was quiet the whole day in the lab. We both tried to act busy like nothing much happened. Due to the events of these past two weeks, I’ve been getting telephone calls from a lot of people. I chose to ignore them because I know it has something to do with Rogers’ disappearance and I’d been hearing they want to make the serum like Ernskine’s. I honestly think that it would be hard to “remake” Captain America ever again. She didn’t eat anything for the whole day even a cup of coffee. I insisted on walking her home, saying I have to borrow her old research about the future of computers. She said she’ll just bring it tomorrow but I said I need it urgently even though I really don’t. In fact, I have nothing to do with her research. I just had to make sure she’ll get home safe. I thought it was a good idea to just walk with her instead of asking Jarvis to drive us. But boy, I was wrong. The loss of the nation’s superhero is plastered all over the place. I tried distracting Y/N by telling her about the funny encounter I had with a girl months ago. I never told her about it before because I know she doesn’t like that I cannot commit to a single girl. But I have no more story to tell at the moment. It was a relief that she let out small laughs and smile at it. Although the smiles didn’t reach her eyes, I hope she felt better for a bit. She was about to say some advice or something when she suddenly froze. Her lips formed into a frown and I see tears forming in her eyes. I follow where her eyes lay and it was the newspapers. WE NEED A NEW CAPTAIN. The headline was printed in big, bold letters. Eye-catching. “They cannot just replace Steve like that.” It was a whisper from her. I hate that all I can do is sigh. Two minutes later, we reached her apartment. She handed me her research and thanked me. She smiled. But it was forced, I know.

As I am writing this letter, I am thinking of leaving this city with Y/N for a vacation somewhere away from here. I don’t know if she will like that. Maybe she won’t. Maybe I’ll just settle on walking her home with another made-up reason from the back of my head. I don’t know. I just feel helpless seeing her like this again after Barnes’ and now, Rogers’ death. Even so, I’ll always make sure that she will be alright.

H.S. 

Tony removed his eyeglasses as he finished reading. His index finger traces the handwritten words by his father, sighing in the process. He can hear his father’s voice with each word in it. 

“Tony, we need to go. We should fly at six!” Pepper’s voice cuts off his thoughts.

He stretched his limbs before replying, “Okay, honey. Just getting my glasses.” 

Tony stared at the page again for a second before closing his father’s journal. He slid it onto one of the drawers on his nightstand and left.

THE SEND-OFF TAGLIST

@supraveng @sunflower-golden-vol6 @curi0usc4t @caitlyn-who @bitchy-bi-trash @stilltoomuchafangirl @matisse556 @ladybug05 @sunwoahkim @meanttobea @j69confessional2 @thenyxsky @swthxrry @justab-eautifulmess @7minutes-tomidnight @curlycarley @thefalconandthewinterwidowshield @wisepenguin @shatfairy @coffeeshub @stillthatbetch @cosmicgirls-things @mediocre-m @learning-howto-be-myselfx3 @mrsjaderogers @themerc-with-a-mouth @slutdreams @royalwritersoftheuniverses @yunloyal @avengersinitiative2012 @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 @madnessinwrighting @lilizia @saintmagx @saranghaey @elmphoenix17 @animegirlgeeky @t-stark35 @ameliabs-world @seijaelee @sully-stick-together @capswife @katdahlali @avengersgirllorianna

PERMANENT TAGLIST

@rosedpetal

[eddiediazismyhusband]

🩺!

🩺 - "Something Med School Didn't Cover" or the 'Nurse!Eddie' fic!

I'm FINALLY getting around to replying to some of these WIP asks (genuinely when I posted that ask game, I expected to have more time than I ended up having and here we are literally a month later oops....)

----------

“So, Eddie,” Chimney asked, his mouth full with a bite of lasagna as he spoke. “Got anyone special in your life?”

He waggled his eyebrows as Maddie shoved him in the shoulder.

“Stop talking with your mouth full,” she scoffed. “Are you six years old?”

“Sometimes we wonder,” Buck teased.

“Like you’re any better,” Chimney sassed back.

“I am,” Buck smiled, smug. “I always swallow first.”

Eddie choked on his water- as did Bobby and Ravi. Athena dropped her head in her hands, Chimney barked out a laugh, and Maddie rolled her eyes.

“Jesus Christ, Buck,” she said.

“What?” Buck asked, innocently, before he widened his eyes with a dramatic fake gasp. “Oh did you think I was talking about-”

“That’s enough,” Bobby said through barred teeth, giving a pointed look to Buck. “Some of us actually want to enjoy eating our meal.”

“Just trying to keep it entertaining,” Buck raised his hands in mock defense.

“If we wanted dinner and a show, we would’a gone to the drive in,” Athena said, raising an eyebrow at Buck- one of the many looks of hers Eddie has learned means ‘don’t fuck with me.’

“Yes, ma’am,” Buck grumbled, returning to his food like a scolded child.

He had no business being that cute.

Eddie was about to stab his eye out with his fork.

“Anyway,” Chimney said. “Eddie, you never answered my question. Got anyone special in your life?”

“Just Chris and Abuela,” Eddie replied, taking a bite of Bobby’s delicious food.

“So you’re single and ready to mingle?” Chimney asked, waggling his brows.

“What, are you gonna be his wingman?” Athena asked with a small smirk.

“I’m just curious!” Chimney defended. “Geez, let’s all gang up on Chimney today...”

“It’s easy to do,” Ravi said, timidly, earning a fist bump from Buck.

Chimney narrowed his eyes, looking between the two of them before returning his scrutinizing gaze at Ravi. “Are you almost finished with the buffering on the chrome?”

“Y- yes,” Ravi said, his ears turning red.

“Good,” Chimney replied. “You can do the rest the right way by using the buffering tool that Buck lied and said we didn’t have.”

“What?” Ravi exclaimed, his eyes growing wide.

“Have you thought about dating now that you’re starting to settle, Eddie?” Maddie asked, and Eddie felt his throat tighten.

“He doesn’t like to date because of Chris,” Buck answered for him, everyone’s heads turning to him.

“And how do you know this?” Chimney asked.

“Because everytime I try to set him up with someone, he never lets me,” Buck replied.

“Maybe you just suck at being a wingman,” Chimney pointed out.

“You got my sister pregnant before you told her you liked her,” Buck smirked. “I don’t think you have a great track record for setting people up when you couldn’t even set yourself up.”

“Hey, don’t drag me into this measuring contest,” Maddie rolled her eyes. “I have no interest in it.”

“Besides, I’m at an unfair advantage if it’s Maddie judging that contest,” Chimney said with a wink, and Buck choked on his drink.

“Can we not talk about this at the dinner table?” Athena said, giving both of them another look.

“No, but we can talk about it at the lunch tab-” Buck started, but was cut off with a slap to the back of the head by Bobby.

--------

[allwaswell16]

All the One Direction fics I read and enjoyed in December 2023. You can listen to my podcast to hear me talk about each of these fics as well as an overview of what was posted on ao3 including the fics on this month’s fic roundup which you can find here! Please let the writers know if you liked the fics by leaving kudos and comments! Happy reading!

Fanfictional Podcast #57 |  ko-fi | fic recs

— Louis/Harry —

⊹ Heart Beat by @allwaswell16

(E, 33k, kid fic) When Harry returns to start a music academy in his hometown, he finds himself face to face with his high school crush—and his charming daughter who wants to learn to play the drums.

⊹ Snow In Love by @lululawrence

(NR, 33k, fake relationship) An advent fic featuring childhood friends, fake dating turned actual dating, really horrible secret keeping, and a winter weather surprise.

⊹ You Ain’t Gotta Feel Fear Just Mingle by LadyLondonderry / @londonfoginacup

(T, 32, coworkers) Harry has been at his dream job for less than three months, and he knows two things for sure; first, his project manager doesn't know what he's doing, and second, someone in the office is apparently pure evil, and no one will tell Harry who it is.

⊹ 'tis the damn season by YesIsAWorld / @louandhazaf

(E, 17k, girl direction) Harry returns to her small hometown over the holiday season and starts to think about the road not taken.

⊹ The Lonely Dance of My Despair (series) by The_Halcyonic_Lachesist / @chai-hat-tea

(G/T, 11k, Eroda) Louis lives a lonely life until he might find something that shows him that he might not be alone in his misery. Or did he?

⊹ Ride My Sleigh Tonight by @kingsofeverything

(E, 9k, sugar daddy) In exchange for free food and drinks at Liam’s office holiday party, Harry pretends to be his boyfriend. But this is not that story.

⊹ You smile all the time ('cause how can you not show it?) by thebreadvan / @thebreadvansstuff

(E, 9k, dentist/patient) Harry never liked dentists, until now.

⊹ don’t let the fire die by @nouies

(E, 8k, fantasy au) Harry makes a long trip to take back what is his.

⊹ I've Got My Love to Keep Me Warm by @haloeverlasting

(NR, 7k, neighbors) Louis' heat is out, Harry's a terrible upstairs neighbor, and an empty Christmas tree is the perfect excuse to fall in love.

⊹ Unleashing Adoration by hazzahtomlinson / @itsnotreal

(E, 6k, songwriter Louis) Louis’ schedule has gotten a bit busy lately, so he trusts that Niall will find someone who can take care of his dog, Clifford, a few days a week.

⊹ I Want You to Linger by @insightfulinsomniac

(E, 6k, omegaverse) A friends-to-lovers fic in which oblivious alpha Louis courts his best friend, nests with the gifts he gets him, and is faced with the reality that sometimes telling someone you love them doesn’t go to plan (but turns out better in the end anyway).

⊹ Red by @disgruntledkittenface

(E, 4k, exes) Louis is wallowing after the breakup. He's never felt this kind of heartbreak before. All he wants to do is lie on his couch and listen to Taylor Swift alone.

⊹ Perfect, For Now by @parmahamlarrie

(T, 4k, omegaverse) Moving to a new city is always hard, being away from home, finding your new community - none of it is easy. Dealing with all of this while being touch deprived is even more difficult.

⊹ Oh Little Town of BATHlehem by LadyLondonderry / @londonfoginacup

(G, 2k, Christmas shopping) Louis Tomlinson needs a small pink bathtub. He needs it.

— Rare Pairs —

⊹ Jump! by @reminiscingintherain

(M, 15k, Louis/Tommy Longhurst) “I absolutely know what this means, lad,” he replied, his voice gentle and supportive. “The way you’re reacting to being out there? That’s exactly why I chose you for the support slot.” He gave a reassuring squeeze. “You deserve this, okay?” 

⊹ softer than satin by cinnamons / @sunbellylou

(E, 4k, Louis/Joel Miller) “Wanna go back to bed,” Louis whispered languidly, voice partly muffled by his boyfriend’s lips on his.

⊹ One by @allwaswell16

(E, 4k, Louis/Tommy Shelby) When omega Louis Tomlinson becomes pregnant after an unexpected encounter, he decides his only option is to flee his pack. But Tommy Shelby, pack alpha of the Peaky Blinders, might not be willing to let him go so easily.

⊹ Daydream by @allwaswell16

(T, 2k, Zayn/Louis) Every Thursday, Louis nods hello to her fellow regulars at Horan’s Cafe, one of whom is the woman of her dreams.

⊹ Baking Memories by @haztobegood

(T, 2k, Louis/Jack Cochrane) After a long day of songwriting, Jack convinces Louis to bake mince pies together.

⊹ Chaos by @haztobegood

(M, 100 words, Louis/OMC [bodyguard]) Against the barricade, it’s complete chaos.

[treedaddymcpuffpuff]

Beneath Miles of Stone - Part thirteen - John Wick x Plus Size Fem Reader

Summary: John has been in prison for nine months. He’s content to stay if it means appeasing the high table and keeping peace between the owners of each continental. However, he meets someone who erases that willingness. Peace be dammed.

TW: rape/non-con ; violence ; blood ; violence against women ; name-calling, bullying, and fat-shaming ; self esteem issues ; awkward, embarrassing situations

He doesn’t come back. From the time she wakes up at 5PM, she waits for him. Impatient, distracted, not knowing what to do to pass the time. Midnight peaks around the corner ominously, and she’s pacing back and forth in the living room when Michael walks through the door.

He smiles big, sets his bag down on the counter, and greets her. “What’s wrong?”

“I wanted to see him tonight,” she says, trying not to start crying like an idiot again.

“Oh, hun,” Michael sighs. He pulls her into a cold hug after hanging his jacket up. “Did he tell you you would see him tonight?”

She shrugs. “He said maybe.”

Michael motions for her to sit on the couch. His hair is still glittering with icy rain drops. “Well, at least he’s not lying.” 

“I’m just confused. I don’t even know if he actually likes me.”

“If he’s kissing you and introducing you to his friends, then he likes you. Men are stupid. They think that things can be simple and clear cut, but they don’t factor emotions into their master plans.”

“So you think I’m just a fling?” She asks.

Michael cringes. “Honestly, I don’t know. On one hand, he sounds like he wants you in his life, but, on the other, he seems distant and secretive.”

She nods. “But I haven’t told him how I feel, either.”

“That’s the other thing; most men, like I said, emotionally inept. They need it spelled out. Maybe try telling him or asking him?”

She almost bursts out laughing at that, but just ends up snorting and rolling her eyes. 

Michael laughs for her. “Why do you think I’m so bad at commitment? You tell a guy you really like him and suddenly you’re dog shit.”

“You tell anyone you really like them and suddenly you’re dog shit,” she clarifies.

“Men have broken my heart so much and disappointed me that I should be a nun,” Michael nods. “But, here I am, a slut.”

“You’re not a slut, Michael.” She glares at him. 

“Well, if I’m not then I should be. Seriously, how many guys have smashed your heart into pieces? I’m betting the number is one or more.”

“Honestly,” she replies, turning toward him, “my worst heartbreaks haven’t been through relationships. Family and friends have fucked me up worse.”

He pats her shoulder. “See, I envy you. You don’t need anybody. You’re strong.”

Now that, makes her burst out in laughter so hard she shakes with it. 

“I’m serious.” It’s Michael’s turn to glare. “You’re self made. No one helped you get here. You clawed and fought your way to the top despite being hindered every step of the way. For Christ sake’s, you put yourself through nursing school. You’re a tough bitch and you need to start acting like it.” He pauses, collects himself. “Sorry.”

Her mouth folds in, eyes looking down at her hands. “You’re fine,” she tells him.

“I’m just. Sometimes you talk so bad about yourself that it’s just kind of pissing me off.” Michael grabs her hand and squeezes. “I get that you think bad about yourself, and it sucks. But if you don’t value yourself, then neither will leather jacket man.”

Michael’s words sting. He makes her realize that she’s fallen into a pattern of feeling sorry for herself, and it’s sabotaging her life. The depressing epiphany would be helpful if she knew how to fix it.

“Let me help you get more confidence,” Michael asks. “Come out with me more often. Go shopping with me. Get your hair done just for the thrill of it. You just said the other day about how you wanted to get a haircut.”

All of that sounds truly wonderful in theory, but what about reality? What about the fact that she has no idea how to style her hair or act confident?

“When you were young, what did you do for fun?” Michael asks. 

“Went for car rides, read books, watched movies, walked.” 

“Did you ever play a sport, go to prom, have a shopping spree, go to parties?” Michael asks, eyebrows pulled down in concentration which probably means that he’s trying to fathom how anyone can not do those things when they’re  younger.

“No.” She looks away, embarrassed. 

“Get your nails painted, make out with cute boys under bridges?”

“Nope.”

“Jesus,” Michael sighs. “Then we have a lot to catch up on, don’t we? Oh-“ he puts his hand out to stop himself from talking. “My mistake. We can cross the making out off our list.” He grins. “Unless he isn’t cute.”

She drops his hand, laughing sheepishly. “He’s…” she struggles to find the right word, but gets upset just thinking of his absence. “Very cute.” She finds herself sinking into the memory of high cheekbones and woodsy eyes and thermal skin and hungry, rough lips. 

Michael waves his hand in front of the glassy look on her face. “Oh, god,” he murmurs. “You’re totally fucked.”

——————————-

Michael thrusts a lace babydoll into her chest so hard that it makes her stumble backward. “Here, is this your size?”

She looks around the room to make sure no one’s watching. Just other women minding their business and digging through racks of lingerie. 

She glares at Michael, because he promised that if she at least went in to Victoria’s Secret, he wouldn’t give her any suggestions on purchases. And here he is, handing her a piece of fabric that won’t cover her thigh let alone whole body. 

She sticks it back on the rack it came from. “I don’t think it will fit me.”

He sighs, rummaging through the underwear bin. “How do you know until you try?” 

She picks up a tiny, silk thong from the top pile and shows it to him. “How can you wear this stuff? Isn’t it in you the entire time rather than covering you?”

Michael takes the panties from her and examines them, chuckling. “No, see, you’re looking at them wrong. This one my ass would swallow.” He tosses it back, and holds up another in its place with seemingly better coverage all around. “This one would be cute yet practical.”

“Hmmm.” She tilts her head, trying to understand what he’s talking about. “I’m pretty sure my ass would swallow all of them.”

Michael sticks his tongue out at her. “No need to brag.” 

While Michael decides on underwear, she goes to smell the perfumes. Now this, she thinks, Victoria excels at. In fact, she just might buy a cotton candy scented bottle that’s half off and the lotion to match. She makes sure this is the one she wants, though, before taking it up to the counter and checking out. 

Michael is proud, grinning, patting her on the back as they walk the mall. “See, Vickie isn’t that bad.”

“Eh, she smells nice, I’ll give her that.”

They both share a giggle. 

She asks Michael if they can go into the book store, and he rolls his eyes. 

“Babe, no offense, but you go in without me and I’m gonna check out Sephora.” 

“Ah, that reminds me.” She taps her face. “When are you teaching me how to do winged liner?”

“As soon as you buy eyeliner,” Michael replies. “Which is why you should come to Sephora. I mean, not to sound like a vapid bitch, but.. the book store? Really?” He’s smiling, teasing her. 

“That’s why it’s here, right?”

They part ways. 

She didn’t want to tell him the real reason she came in, which is to get a present for John. If she ever sees him again. 

She goes right to the romance section and begins to peruse around for something he might like. 

The Jackal and the Cat, One Foot in Santa Monica, The Clandestine Candle . 

She tries to picture him reading any single one of these, but her mind comes up blank. Maybe he meant that he likes older romance books? She walks to the classical section. 

Two men in suits standing by Agatha Christie’s showcase catch her eye and remind her too much of a certain well-dressed gentleman she admires. Both are tall, well built, fancy and stoic, looking very out of place here in Books A Million. 

They unabashedly and suspiciously watch her, and it freaks her out enough that she ducks behind a case of Edgar Allen Poe and Shakespeare. Weird merging timelines, but a great safe haven. 

A small elder woman with white, wispy hair, dark skin, and sharp grey eyes smiles brightly up at her. She wears a black pant suit and smells like flowers. Tasteful jewelry adorns her neck and wrists. She has a copy of The Count of Monte Cristo in her hands, flipping it over to examine the shiny hardback spine. 

“Oh, excuse me dear, but could you do me a favor? I left my reading glasses at home and I’d really like to hear the summary on this. Can you read it to me?”

She smiles back and takes the book to do as requested. 

After she’s done stumbling over her words, the older woman looks entranced and astonished like she’s one of the best storytellers from this century. “Oh, that sounds wonderful,” she says, folding the book into her weathered palms for safe keeping. “Thank you so much. Have you read it?”

“Um, yes, I think in highschool?” Her cheeks get a little warm with embarrassment from being visibly uncultured in front of this sophisticated looking individual. 

“Ah,” the stranger muses, “and A Picture of Dorian Grey?”

“I, um, wrote my big book report on that one,” she chuckles, rubbing her arm. 

“Anything specific you’re looking for?” The woman asks, ready to return a favor. 

“Romance? Something cultured? Older?”

The woman puts a finger to her lips in thought, then her grey eyes light with an idea. “Come with me.”

She’s surprisingly light and quick on her feet for a woman of her age. She actually has trouble keeping up as the tiny woman floats through the store until settling at the back wall. A large sign above the shelves reads: ROMANCE. 

The older woman, knowing exactly what she wants, narrows in to the right handed corner. She fingers through some hardbacks, pulls out a plain blue novel, and hands it to the waiting person behind her. 

In Safe Hands by Jane Sanford. The inner synopsis promises a thriller romance with a great twist. Plus, it’s a beautiful book. Simple and hardbound, shiny Robin blue. Something that John would appreciate, hopefully. 

“Have you ever read this one?” Soft white hair floats into view as she examines the book. 

She looks up and smiles. “It’s not for me.”

The elder smiles and the devilish look makes her seem years younger. A certain knowing reflects in her face. “Ah.” Her tone is teasing. “A love interest, perhaps?” 

The accent wasn’t noticeable before, but now it’s apparent. Some kind of rich, articulated drawl that she thinks she’s heard before. 

Her skin heats. “Yes.”

“My, you live in this moment and love it no matter what hardship it brings.” Her crinkled eyes run up and down over the expansive shelves of paper before she looks back up at her and smiles. “Love is rare, you know. At least the good kind.”

She chews her lip. “The good kind?”

The woman chuckles. “I can tell you have the good kind. You’re buying them a romance novel. It can’t be anything else but the kind of love that makes everything else seem dull.” 

She wants to believe this desperately. The words resonate in her chest and pound true through the pulse of her arteries. Once again, she misses John violently. Misses the feelings he gives her. She rubs her fingers over the spine of his present and thinks of his wish to be a librarian. 

The old woman pats her shoulder. “You have a great day, dear.” 

Her attention is drawn back to the movement of her acquaintance. She never noticed the the two men from earlier standing behind, still staring daggers at her head. They tuck the tiny, waving lady between them, and disappear behind shelves. 

She meets Michael at a pizza place near the exit and tells him about the weird encounter while they eat. 

“You’re living in a romance mystery novel and you refuse to buy lingerie?” Michael rolls his eyes. “That checks out.” 

She shrugs. “It’s more pathetic than that.”

“I got you eyeliner,” Michael tells her, taking a bite of baked ziti. 

“Michael!” She admonishes. She grabs a bag from their feet and opens it to show him the eyeliner, lip gloss, and small eyeshadow palette that she purchased after leaving the bookstore. “Do you really have that little faith in me?”

Michael cringes. “Yes, but I’m surprised and proud.” 

She grins. “Thank you, I guess.” 

They take Michael’s car to a little coffee shop on Wall Street Court that Michael promises she’ll love despite the hustle and bustle at the heart of the city. He gets a big iced vanilla latte and she orders a smoothie. They sit next to floor-to-ceiling glass windows that give an amazing view of the lavish cityscape. 

Important men in business suits and beautiful girls in bodycon dresses flit in and out of crystal business doors. Expensive limos line the streets. It’s strange, to have this scene at her back door when she’s always felt so separate from it. She watches like it’s a movie. 

“Do you want to go to the theatre?” Michael asks, tapping at his phone. “Emily and Syreeta are going and want us to join.”

“They want you to join,” she corrects.

Michael glares at her. “Were we not just talking about this self pity thing? They don’t hate you.”

It stings because he’s right, but climbing out of a pit of despair is harder than it looks. Every time she tries to get a hand on the ladder rung above her, the hating darkness bats her away and keeps her stagnant.

“They just didn’t talk to me in the club,” she explains.

“Funny, they said the same thing about you. Just be yourself, like you were with me. When you actually talk, you’re the easiest person to get along with I’ve ever met.”

She sips her drink and thinks about it. “Thank you, Michael, but you’re pretty easy to get along with, too.”

He sighs, puts his phone down, folds his hands, and leans over. “You coming or not? It’s the Nutcracker. Uh, hello, earth to -“

Her attention is totally and suddenly taken by something on the other side of the glass window. Her eyes have that unfocused, enraptured look again, and Michael waves his hand in front of her face. “Babe?” 

John Wick stands on a street corner, waiting to cross, hands in his pockets. He’s dressed in a black suit and red tie, hair fluffed back, looking as good as ever. Michael glances over at her center of attention. 

“Oh my god, it’s him, isn’t it?” Michael is suddenly whispering as if this is top secret information. “Which one?” 

“Shhh,” she says, embarrassed, looking away, playing into the top secret thing despite no one in here caring about them or what they’re talking about. 

“Listen,” Michael tells her, pushing his coffee out of the way so he can lean over the table. “If you want to go after him and ask him what the hell is up, I don’t blame you. In fact, I support this cause and am here to help.”

“He might be working, Michael,” she says, looking away from John reluctantly. 

“Only one way to find out,” Michael grins. “Go after him. Show him that you’re serious.”

Michael’s suggestion is all too tempting. Mostly because she misses him dearly even though it’s only been around 24 hours since they last interacted. It’s obsessive behavior, borderline creepy of her. He’ll probably hate her if she walks up and talks to him, now, but on the other hand, he’s the one barging into her apartment without an invite and cornering her at clubs and waiting outside for her to get home. Isn’t it fair if she returns the favor, shows him she wants this just as much? She glances once more at his broad back while he walks down the opposite street and she makes a split second, dumb decision that she normally would never even think about making. 

She gets up, grabs her jacket, tells Michael she’ll be back, and slides her chair in. 

Michael yells after her as she walks out the door. “Don’t get kidnapped!! If you’re not home by midnight I’m calling the cops! You better text me! I’m drinking the rest of this smoothie!”

She’s too clumsy to be any sort of sneaky, but she doesn’t really care if he sees her walking behind him - trying to keep up - because he’s going to get a full view of her anyway when they’re face to face. 

The sidewalk and streets are blessedly clear of ice and slush and snow, and if she didn’t know better she’d say that divine intervention was on her side, because if she had to walk this fast on slippery ground, she’d already be K.O.’d by the earth. 

John turns a corner and she is practically running to catch up with his long legged stride. She murmurs sorry as she whizzes by nicely dressed street patrons a little too closely and receives glares and annoyed murmurs for her trouble. By the time he stops, she’s struggling to catch her breath. He stands on the steps of a large building constructed to take up two corners of the street. It’s center piece among the business district, white and huge.

A bellman dressed in silver and red stands at the door and waits patiently for the only visitor, John Wick.

Shes grateful that he’s stalled on the steps, staring at a phone that she didn’t know he had, too distracted to see her as she clears the busy street. Drivers lay on their horns, someone screams at her out of a passenger window, and, finally, when her feet hit the curb and she almost wipes out trying to get away from moving traffic, John turns. 

“Are you following me?” He wears the exact opposite expression that she wants to see; hatred and anger slash his angular features into something to be afraid of. 

She feels like a fox in a henhouse with the farmers gun pointed at her muzzle, head between her legs and automatically backing away from him. She misinterprets his own fear with disgust at her behavior and now she just wants to turn tail and leave, but the doorman sees her, and he undoubtedly notices her connection to John, and it’s far too fucking late for that. 

There is a point that needs to be made to protect the precious pumping blood inside her body and he can’t decide what to do to get that point across when adrenaline is binding fury and fear inside of him tighter and tighter. He feels the tick of his watch against his wrist and relates it to her dwindling innocence and safety. He stalks toward her, one step from him matching four of her own.

John grabs her up by the bicep and drags her along like a stuffed doll to his car that’s parked around the right side of the building. 

His grip is hard enough to sink bone deep and make her ache, but she shuts up and lets him take her where he wants, too ashamed to argue with him now.

She’s not even sure what’s happening when he hustles her into his backseat and makes her lay flat down on it with her legs curled up on the freezing bench.

He doesn’t bother telling her to duck into the safety of the vehicle, just handles her into a fetal position himself. “Stay,” he says, and the door shuts behind him, leaving her alone and shivering in the cold leather. 

She hears the click of a lock and buries her numb face into her jacket. 

Charon is waiting at the front desk to greet him with a placid smile. John flips him a gold coin in greeting. “Charon.” He tips his head as the man catches his bribe. 

Charon’s smile turns ardent. “Hello sir, nice to see you, what can I help you with today?” 

“I have a guest in my car. Could you take them somewhere comfortable, safe, secluded while I do business?” John’s voice is poised but his eyes are pleading. 

Charon slips the coin into his pocket. “Of course, sir.” 

His tensed body relaxes while one of the few people that he trusts to protect an innocent woman takes his keys and leaves the building. She still won’t be safe enough for him to feel entirely calm, and he only has a second to regret not putting her under his arm - the only place she will be completely protected - before he’s walking into the dining hall to meet Viggo and Winston. 

“John,” Viggo cries, standing and pulling him into his side for a brief embrace. “Three minutes late?”

Cool sweat forms under his collar at the comment while he tries to remain composed in the face.

Viggo looks suspicious. But John can’t decide if it’s because of a tell on his features or the fact that he’s never been late twice in his entire life. 

Viggo motions for him to sit, still cheery. Winston stays tight lipped, formal, poised. John envies him for the mastered skills. 

He’s so wound tight that he almost jumps when he feels the oncoming, light pressure of a hand on his shoulder. He’s never been like this in line of Viggo’s sight, and he knows that the man can tell he’s not himself, but he can’t seem to get the vision of her bloody, pulseless body out of his mind. And what he will do to everyone in this hotel as a consequence of it.

“Hello John, can I get you something to drink?” 

He turns to the waitress and tries a smile. “Hello Rachel, nice to see you. I’ll have a Blanton’s. Ice, please.”

“On the rocks,” Rachel winks at him. “Got it.” As she walks away, Viggo talks business. 

————————————————————

Charon is very nice. He introduces himself, assures her that she will be an “honored guest”, and lets her sit up front while he drives the car into the attached, Continental branded parking garage. 

The section they settle John’s car into is filled with other expensive-looking vehicles. She recognizes BMWs and Jaguars from TV commercials. Charon insists upon opening her door, much like someone else she knows, and then guides her to a big silver elevator with neon, red and green buttons blinking in sequence on an expansive wall panel tucked to the side. She thinks he’s going to press one, but instead, he pulls a key from his pocket and unlocks the plain metal door beside the elevator that she assumes, at first, is unimportant. 

The staircase is lined with soft blue paisley carpet and the walls are decorated with pictures of strange art pieces. She stares at distorted naked bodies and eyeless characters and blurred grey crowds and angels battling bloody demons on top of cotton candy skies as Charon leads her into the dim underbelly of the hotel. 

“They are all painted by former and current members,” he tells her. 

“They’re really amazing,” she says, not wanting to push questions in fear of offending the overly kind man guiding her to safety that she didn’t even realize she needed until she was being manhandled into John’s back seat.

If she lives through this, she’ll have to get permission to take pictures and show Michael. It’s strange, to not know if she’s going to be alive tomorrow or not. Fatality that seemed so fanatical and far away two weeks ago now stands at her doorstep waiting like an expectant courier and she’s starting to get used to its harrowing presence. 

Charon lands light on his dress shoes off the last step, and waits for her to catch up. She stumbles a bit on the rough rugs, and he reaches out a hand to steady her shoulder while she smiles apologetically. “I’m sorry,” she whispers.

“Do not be sorry,” Charon tells her, patting dust off her jacket. “These floors need a remodel. This is our old entrance: The only people that use it are the ones who can navigate it blindfolded.” 

He motions her into a doorway that leads to a drastic change of scenery. In here, everything is modern and brightly illuminated. There are grey leather couches seated around a large table in the center of the room. A bed with black, shiny sheets sits perfectly in the open floor plan, with bamboo plants flourishing on each side of the wide mattress. There is a room that she assumes to be the bath, because it’s the only part of this place with a door attached. Two glass coolers glow with rainbow assortment bottles of alcohol and seltzer waters. 

She blinks up at the high ceiling, too distracted by the view to hear Charon ask her if she would like something to eat. 

“Miss?” 

She stops and looks at him. “What? Sorry?” 

He repeats the question. Her stomach growls, but she tames it and tells him that she’s fine, not wanting to be a bother. 

“Help yourself to the beverages,” Charon motions, referring to the large coolers. “And feel free to use the room as you please until Mr. Wick retrieves you. This is a private, isolated suite we reserve only for select guests. No one will bother you, but if you should need something, please just pick up the phone and I will be waiting on the other line to assist you.” 

She nods at him, using the gesture of gratitude that John favors - already adopting his mannerisms - and gives warm thanks. 

“It is my pleasure,” Charon says, “any friend of Mr. Wick is a friend of mine.”

With that, he leaves her alone in the huge room.

She has a million questions, but none of them seem more important than keeping hold of John Wick, so she quells them and waits like an obedient dog for his return.

————————————————————

Viggo is leaned back, drinking sweet vodka, negotiating the terms of John’s re-employment.

“You were never fired, we held the position.” Viggo rubs the just-greying scruff on his chin, eyeing John. “Winston, can we still smoke in here?”

“‘Fraid not,” Winston replies, taking his own sip of sour scotch and pursing his lips as if in distaste. “Only downstairs.”

Viggo grumbles. “Gav-no. Why didn’t we go down there?”

“I figured it would be easier for you to run and get to your men if John decides to kill you,” Winston shrugs.

His dry sarcasm and witty grin has Viggo laughing. 

John says nothing and takes a drink, trying futilely to calm himself with liquor. 

“I think it was stupid that they put you in prison and didn’t expect this to happen, John.” Viggo bites into his ravioli, chews, swallows. “And if they want a war, I will give them one.”

“We did it to prevent a war,” Winston interjects.

“Bah!” Viggo spits. “The war is already happening - it has been for a long time - what’s a little more blood shed going to do?”

“A lot more,” Winston corrects. “Blood shed.”

Viggo comes forward, eyes determined, tosses the silk bib from around his neck onto the table. “So be it. I want you with me, John. And I will make sure no one makes one hair out of place on your head.” He leans back, done eating. “And your head too, Winston.” He nods at the older man. 

Winston raises his eyebrows and looks at John expectantly. “Your ball.” 

————————————————————

The bathroom is more of a sauna. Different height benches, numerous sprayers on the ceiling, vents that leak hot steam into the room at the push of a button. A toilet with a bidet behind another secret door. The sink is concave marble, adorned with freshly wrapped toiletries and beautiful smelling lavender soap that she honestly thinks about sticking into her pocket and taking home.

Just as she’s about to exit, she hears the loud slam of a door and laughing male voices clanking against one another. 

She freezes, turns the lock back, steps away, looks around for an escape which there is none of. 

Then, a female voice, pitiful and pleading. She presses her ear to the smooth wood, listening as the woman - language different from her own - becomes more distressed. 

Her heart rises from her stomach to her ribs and burns in anger and disgust as she tunes in to the exchange. 

“Look at her, all tied up and nowhere to go.”

“Fucking slut.” A hard slapping sound and then a scream of agony from the high pitched female voice. Then crying and more despicable taunting from the numerous male visitors.

She’s not thinking of anything but that gut-wrenching, memory triggering voice when she pushes through the door and steps out into the room. 

Five young men have a small Asian woman, completely naked and bound in rope, prone on the cold floor. Their hands bruise her skin as she sobs. 

As all their eyes turn to her, reality smacks her in the face like a burst of fire burning her eyebrows off. The woman’s eyes are red and sore, tears streaking down her face. One boot has her cheek pressed down while a hand grabs her hair and pulls taut. 

“Hey,” she says, voice filled with venom, adrenaline in her body fire that smokes her vision. “What the fuck are you doing to her.”

The only problem here is that she’s a lone woman in a hotel room with no weapons and these guys look automatically angry for the interruption. The one with the boot on the girl’s head gets to her as fast as John can, and grabs her by the collar. “Shloondra,” he spits, “tebya nikto nikogda ne uchil ne lezt' v svoi dela?”

Her heart plummets again and her angry glasses cloud with fear. She’s up on her tiptoes, choking at his grasp.

He pushes his face down to her own and she smells the potent liquor on his breath. “Davayte prepodam svin'ye urok.” 

One of his companions answers in English. “Tie her up and make her help.”

They all laugh.

She’s so tired of this shit. Men. Thinking they can do whatever they want with no consequences. Hatred tastes bitter in her mouth, so potent it hurts her teeth. 

And this guy is nothing like Benny. Benny who she couldn’t even fathom fighting because he was so massive. 

This guy is small, thin, barely taller than her. She knows she can hurt him, so she does, slams upward with her knee and makes squelching contact with his dying erection. 

He drops her and she falls back onto her ass.

As his companions laugh, he grabs his dick and moans through his teeth, eyes squeezed shut.

She smiles, but not for long, because now all these men are coming at her with wicked, delighted intent. 

The redhead gets in front of her and crushes her back against the legs of the more muscled member. She’s stuck sitting between them, but she still has her hands and feet, kicks and hits furiously at any soft body part she can find. Redhead yelps in pain as she makes blunt force contact with his balls and screams for someone else to get on her. 

Two grab both her arms and twist them at angles that make her screech in pain. It gets the point across, and she stills. Redhead and Russian guy have stepped away to lick their wounds, but two of the others still hold both her arms in a neatly breaking fashion and the other one has her neck in his hands. 

He pats her cheek and squeezes her trachea to play with how much air she’s allowed to have. 

“Ah, a wild bull.” His thick accent is hard to understand. “Maybe we should have some fun with you?”

“Disgusting,” the muscled one hisses. 

“No, she can clearly eat well,” redhead growls. “Make her eat pussy.”

“Would you like that?” It’s clear now from the combined smell that they’re all very drunk. “You hungry, little pig? Want to get all sloppy at the trough?” 

Her wild eyes catch the ones of her bound counterpart, and this woman almost looks bored in sharp contrast to herself. The agony is gone from her face and she’s watching this scene and practically yawning she’s so uninterested. 

She doesn’t have time to be confused before one man twists her arm back again, and she’s sure it’s going to break, so she screams. 

The Russian claps a hand over her mouth and tells her what she thinks is the equivalent of shut up. 

Charon opens the door, John catches her scared eyes, takes in the picture, and the last shred of his building anxiety snaps in half. 

First, he charges the one holding her throat, and a defensive hand doesn’t have time to raise before John returns the favor, grabs him by the neck, and tosses him into a wall.

He’s ready for the other ones before they have time to realize he’s an enemy.

She watches the unfair fight play out, not because she wants to, but because watching John move is like watching a captivating, bloody ballet, and it’s hard to look away. A big, dumb part of her feels bad for these stupid punks while he wrecks their shit.

He’s just so much bigger than them that it’s insane they think they can counter him. He looks like a giant being pounced on by miniature people. Maybe it’s just the way he doesn’t even try to hit them that makes him seem so massive in comparison. Flipping someone over his shoulder looks like playground antics.

Two by two they fall, until the last one pulls a gun from his holster and aims it at John’s chest. John moves an inch, the bullet hits him in the shoulder, and he simply grunts, inconvenienced, like a bear being shot with a paintball, knocks the gun out of his opponent’s hand, and moves forward, backing him up and glaring down at the man who is visibly shaking in fear, head down to submit, hands in the air to keep the massive predator at arms length.

He grabs him by the neck and this guy is thick but John’s whole hand covers his throat and turns him blue in the face. He lifts him completely off his feet with his right hand, and punches him in the face so fast and graceful that it doesn’t even look like it would hurt until she sees the blood fly out of his skull and his nose cave inward. 

He’s done with them, so he goes right to her, pulls her up and holds her at arms length to make sure she’s not hurt.

She pushes against him. “John.” Her urgent tone directs him to the woman bound Shibari style on the floor.

John releases her and they both go to help.

She starts working at the knot around her wrists and stomach while John cuts her ankles free

He moves her fumbling hands aside to slice through the rest of the half-assed binding job.

“Nǐ huì shuō Zhōngwén ma?” The free woman addresses her rescuers.

John stops. “shì.”

John and the woman have a full conversation that she can’t understand.  Catching any word is truly pointless.

The woman sits up and pats her on the shoulder. Then, she rubs her bare breasts and yawns. She tilts her head at John, questioning. 

The woman talks again, this time pushing perky tits out and pouting at him. 

John motions to her and replies. 

An unexpected spike of jealousy jabs at her nerves. Now that, she thinks she can ascertain the meaning behind.

“Can you tell me what’s going on?” She asks him. “Is she okay?”

“She’s fine,” John says. “They paid her to have sex with them.” 

“She was screaming.”

John shrugs. “That’s what they wanted from her.”

She feels so stupid it hurts. “I’m an idiot,” she whispers. 

“She doesn’t think you are,” John says. “She admires you.”

She resists the urge to ask him what she really cares about, which is what he thinks. 

They are all sitting on the floor criss cross applesauce like in 5th grade reading class when Winston and Charon enter scene.

“Jesus,” Winston says, looking over the mess. “Is anyone dead?”

“No,” John assures. 

Charon starts profusely apologizing to John, but John shakes his head at the repentance and looks, instead, at the naked woman, asking her to tell the newcomers what happened. 

Naked woman sighs, annoyed but agreeing.

Winston lays adoring eyes, flooded with realization, on the clothed woman sitting at John’s side, and smiles warmly. He comes and holds out his hand for a shake. 

She gives him her own hand and he flips it over and kisses the back. He looks at John while she warms with embarrassment. 

“You sure know how to pick ‘em..” Winston muses.

The muscled man tries to stand, but Charon pushes him back down with a Valentino heel. “Sir,” he alerts, motioning at the pile of men. “What should we do with them?”

“Probably something involving a doctor,” Winston says.

“Right away, sir,” Charon nods, pulling a phone from his pocket.

“Are you hurt?” Winston asks her, examining her closely. 

She shakes her head no, but points at John. “He got shot.”

Winston looks over and John pulls his suit open to reveal a clean white dress shirt free of bullet holes. 

She has to look twice and second guess her own eyes.

Winston sighs. “He wears Kevlar. Most bullets don’t pierce it. He’ll be alright. He’s taken worse than this, I assure you, my love.” He must see the worry on her face because his voice soothes and tames. 

She looks at John with a million questions in her eyes, but asks none of them, which he’s thankful for. 

Winston addresses the person in the room with the least clothing and they talk for a moment. 

John puts his hand on her shoulder and slides over to talk low in her ear. “Did they hurt you?” He asks.

“Not as much as you hurt them.” She tries to comfort him.

“I’ll kill them if you want me to.”

“No you will not.” Winston switches from Chinese to English, turning on his heel to point a warning look and finger at John. “I’m already going to have enough trouble trying to make it seem like this wasn’t business, Johnathan. Plus, I don’t think Viggo will keep you employed if you kill his son.” 

John sucks on his teeth and glares at the annoyance that is Winston’s rude interruption before focusing back on her. “My offer stands.”

“No,” she tells him, looking from him to Winston. “I don’t want you to kill anyone.” She grabs his hand and squeezes, pulling it into her lap. 

She sounds like she means that, so he stays put, but he hasn’t decided for himself whether they’re going to live or die yet. Especially when they leave Continental ground and hunting season opens.

A loud knock brings the conversation to a small Asian man in a white suit and slacks entering the room. He wears a stethoscope and carries a brief case. 

“John.” His set frown turns into a natural smile. “Long time no see.”

“Hey Doc,” John nods.

He sets to work like this is all completely normal. The smell of ammonia and iodine and salt is an affront to the senses as he opens his briefcase and begins waking the Russian up.

John tugs on her as if to escort her away, but Winston stops them. “Let me get you out of here so that no one sees her.” 

John settles, but he’s not taking chances, so he drags her into his lap with her head tucked under his chin and his tight arms wrapped around her protectively. Want her, go through me - the point is apparent 

“John,” she grumbles, squirming to adjust, embarrassed by his parenting behavior but clinging to him anyway. She’s just happy he doesn’t seem to be mad at her now.

Naked woman comes over and snuggles into John’s side, gripping his bicep to bulging, starring smugly at the groaning group of bleeding, bruised men. 

John side eyes her, but allows it, reasoning that she must be weary of them trying to get their money back, and not one to deny someone - who is seemingly vulnerable - protection. 

Jealousy rears its ugly head again and she resists the urge to glare at this beautiful girl pressing her bare breasts into John’s side.

Viggo’s son sits up, spits out blood, and looks their way. He opens his mouth to say something, but the look on John’s face makes his snarl falter. “John,” he nods in greeting. 

“Iosef,” John nods back. 

The braver Russian man starts with venom, but Winston interrupts him. “If you think I can actually keep him from killing you or worse, you’re very wrong.”

He closes his jaw.

She feels like they’re in kindergarten and they have all just gotten into a fight so the teacher is making them sit on the floor and have quiet time. 

Violent stares, instead of words, are shot back and forth until the doctor breaks a nose back into place. 

Then, the only voice that has occurred in a while is the scream of this man.

John wants to make them apologize, because he knows she’s hurt by the things they said about her, but he doesn’t know if it would actually help her self esteem or harm it, so he stays quiet and promises death with his eyes. 

“Now,” Winston addresses the room. “Unless you wish to forfeit the protection this hotel provides, you will forget this happened.”

“He beat us up,” the man with the thick accent argues. 

“And you broke into a private room and assaulted a woman,” Winston tells him. “Sounds like you started it. If he’s in trouble, you’re in it bigger. So, nothing happened, correct?” 

“We payed her,” Viggo’s son growls, starring at the naked woman who clutches John tighter.

“That’s not the woman I’m referring to,” Winston says. 

She looks up at John and it seems like he’s daringthe other man to say something. She pulls at his shirt to get his attention, and he looks down at her, misreading the worry on her face.

“We’ll leave soon,” he says.

She sighs and leans her head on his chest, giving up. 

Winston begins to say something, but interruption comes in the form of her phone’s vibrating ring. 

All eyes focus on her as she digs it from her pocket, puts it on silent, and texts the frantic Michael that she’s fine and she’ll explain later. 

John makes a mental note to beat the roommate into submission so that he’s a little less possessive. 

“Uh, sorry,” she tells Winston. 

“Quite alright,” Winston assures, smiling big at her like she can do wrong. 

John refuses to let her go until they’re in the back seat of an unlicensed black suv and being driven away from the building. 

Even now, he keeps her tucked under his arm. 

She looks up at him. “Sorry,” she says. 

He keeps his eyes on the window scenery to avoid making her feel awful with his uncontrolled, cold expression. 

He sucks on his teeth. “We will talk, not here.”

He pulls her further against him and she stays quiet. 

[vemaro]

alone again

[PART 3]

This is a link to PART 1 and PART 2.

Pairing: Astarion x Tav (female Tav)

Word count: ~2900

Notes: Sorry this took so long! I was just so unhappy with everything I wrote. I redid this part a handful of times. Honestly, I’m still not totally satisfied. Oh well! I finished this at almost 2 am and proofread really quickly before work so hopefully this thing is legible. Ngl, this song helped inspire me a little. I hadn’t heard it in a while and it fit the mood.

Here you go!

…

Tav is convinced she’s dreaming.

For years, she’s sent out letters inviting all of her friends to attend numerous affairs; grand openings, galas, holidays, even a simple meal. Most of the time, at least two of them would show up. Sometimes, if luck is on her side, three will appear at once. Never as many as today. Her and Terrick’s wedding ceremony was the last time she managed to persuade them all to come to the city, but even then Lae’zel was absent.

On occasion someone will pass through the Gate without having been directly invited, like when Astarion, Karlach, and Dammon showed up on her doorstep months prior. Although, that is an extremely rare occurrence. And again, never as many as today. She can’t help but wonder what prompted this mass visitation. Deep down, she knows (hopes) they care, but her intuition tells her this is no mere coincidence.

Despite Tav’s inner turmoil, the banter between her and Astarion comes as easily as it always has. His quips are semi-censored due to Callum’s presence, but other than that, it feels like old times. Well, that and the addition of the umbrella. She lets the nostalgia wrap around her like a warm blanket.

Not fifteen minutes into the journey home, Callum falls asleep. He’s nestled comfortably on her side with his cheek resting on her shoulder. Every few minutes Tav will turn her head away from the conversation to bury her nose in his hair or press a kiss to the crown of his head. Having her son so close helps stave off the negativity and paranoia, but it can only do so much.

Tav licks her lips. She might as well ask him now. Get it over with. “Astarion?”

He hums in reply. “Hm?”

She mentally braces herself. “How long will you be in Baldur’s Gate?”

Astarion keeps his voice nonchalant and his eyes trained on the path ahead. “Oh, you know, darling, just until the end of the month.”

Tav lets his words sink in for five long seconds. Then she gawks up at the vampire. “I’m sorry, did you say until the end of the month?”

He smirks, but still doesn’t look her way. “I did.”

“But—” She counts to herself, lightly tapping her fingers against Callum’s back. Then she counts again because that’s way too many days. Then once more for good measure. After checking, double and triple, she balks. “But that’s more than a tenday.”

He chuckles at her shock. “Yes. I’m aware. We rented our old suite at the Elfsong Tavern until—“

She halts in place. “We?” she parrots, voice bordering on shrill. “Who else is staying?”

Astarion internally smacks himself for the slip. Damn it all. He really needs to learn when to stop talking around the woman. “Don’t tell them I ruined the surprise, darling. The slash happy gith will take pleasure in gutting me if she found out.” She continues to stare up at him, waiting for him to elaborate. The vampire sighs. “All of us are staying for the remainder of the month. Even Halsin, Jaheira, and Minsc are supposed to pop in at some point.”

“Everyone will be in the city?” she presses. “Everyone everyone?”

He rolls his eyes in exasperation. “Yes, everyone everyone.”

The question slips out by accident. “Why?”

Astarion is taken aback and the mood is immediately soured. “What the hells do you mean why?”

Why are they here? What could have possibly brought them all together? Is there a new threat looming over them only she isn’t yet aware of? Is that why Gale suggested they spend the day together, to strategize? Is that why Halsin, Jaheira and Minsc will be joining up? Why are they here? She says none of this out loud. She says nothing at all.

He pulls his arm from her grip and takes a step back, exposing Tav to the sunlight. She winces at the sudden brightness. “You literally invited us. We’re here because you asked us to come.”

But why she wants to ask again. Why is this the one time they all decided to show up? Why now? Why not before? Why today? “I-I know that,” she stutters.

“Do you not want us here?” he accuses.

Her panic from earlier returns tenfold. “What? Of course I want you here!”

“Then what seems to be the problem?”

Yes, what is the problem? They’re here, aren’t they? That’s all Tav’s ever wanted. And yet she can’t ignore the nagging feeling in the pit of her stomach that something’s amiss. “There’s no problem, none at all,” says the druid, but even she can hear the lie as it passes her lips.

A frown forms between his brow. “Really? It feels as though there is.”

“No, I …” Her desperation for answers is being misconstrued for annoyance. What was she supposed to say? If she keeps talking, it’ll only make things worse. “I …”

“You what?” he snaps. “I can go if my presence is such a burden.”

“Don’t!” She instinctively reaches out to grab him, but aborts the movement at the last second. “I’m sorry, Astarion.” And she’s confused and she’s tired and she deeply regrets starting this conversation. “I didn’t mean to come across as ungrateful. I am happy you’re here. I just …” She stops right as her voice is about to crack. Tav swallows the lump in her throat and tries again. “I miss you.” The back of her eyes sting. To hide the tears building in the corners, she lowers her gaze down and away.

When he sighs, his entire body softens. All the tension melts again and he’s left feeling guilty for losing his temper. “I miss you as well.”

A sinister voice hisses something wicked in her mind. Does he? If he misses Tav as much as he claims, why not visit more often? A much more cruel voice provides a bittersweet answer; because she did this to him. Because he doesn’t miss her at all. How could he after what she’d done? After condemning him to a life in the shadows. Who is she to shed tears when the fault is her own?

She tries to take a deep breath, to steady herself, but the weight of Callum, the tightness in her throat, and the corset of her dress are making such a task seem nigh impossible. It shudders and breaks, coming out more like a sob. She slaps a hand over her mouth, cursing herself for losing her composure. There are people all around them. If they aren’t already watching, they will if she starts openly sobbing.

A cool hand touches her shoulder. “Tav?” He says her name like it’s the most precious thing in the world. It makes her want to openly sob.

She shrugs off the appendage and turns away. “I’m fine.”

His blood red eyes bore into her back. He wants nothing more than to comfort her somehow, the way she used to comfort him and the rest of their friends, but he can’t bear her rejecting his aid a second time. “Why don’t I believe you?”

“Because I’m a mess,” she says through choked laughter.

“Please tell me what’s going on.”

“Nothing is going on, Astarion.” But she can feel a tear trickle down her cheek. “Just go to the tavern. I’ll walk the rest of the way on my own.”

“Hold on—” Without thinking, his hand darts out to prevent a hasty retreat. However, he underestimates her speed, so his hand passes the outline of the darkness enchantment. “Fuck,” he growls when the sun burns his skin.

Tav spins back around, horrified. “Oh no. I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I didn’t think—I didn’t know you’d—I’m so sorry.” Why couldn’t she have kept her mouth shut? Why couldn’t she just accept things at face value? If she had, he wouldn’t haven’t gotten hurt. It’s her fault. It’s all her fault. It’s all her fault. It’s all—

“We need to leave now.”

Without warning, his hand is on her back, pushing her forward. Tav doesn’t fight it, drowning in remorse for what just transpired. He’s not leading her up the main road anymore. They twist and turn down alleys and side streets until she finds them outside an decrepit building. He makes quick work on the lock, throws open the door, and all but shoves her in first. She hears the door shut and the lock click.

A fresh set of apologies are ready to spew out of her like vomit. “Astarion. I am so—“

He’s quick to cut her off with the swipe of a hand. “Stop. It wasn’t your fault.”

She looks at him as though he’s grown a second head. “Yes, it was. If I hadn’t tried to walk away, you wouldn’t have tried to stop me.”

“I was the one foolish enough to lunge after you in broad daylight,” he argues.

“You only lunged after me because I’m on the verge of tears.” She is no longer on the verge, she is in tears, fucking hells. “So let me apologize properly.”

“Alright then. As an apology, I want a godsdamn explanation for whatever this is.”

She shakes her head. “This is nothing. For the last time, I’m fine.”

He throws the umbrella onto the floor. It clatters onto the dusty floor. “I’d be more likely to believe you if you didn’t have twin tear tracks running down your face.” He closes the distance, leaving a foot of space between them. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

She finally lets it explode out of her. “What’s wrong is that you abandoned me like everyone else in my life! And no matter how long you stay, you’re inevitably going to leave again!” Callum stirs in her arms. The little boy’s eyes flutter open and he mumbles something incomprehensible. Astarion backs off, giving Tav room to soothe him until he’s lulled back to sleep. She whispers sweet words of affirmation in his ear and bounces him like she used to when he was a baby.

It takes a few minutes until Callum is sound asleep again. Even then, the silence stretches on a little longer. Tav stands on one side of the room and Astarion stands near the middle, leaning against a ruined cushioned loveseat. They’re eyes are locked, expressions unreadable.

She breaks the silence first. “I miss you. I miss all of my friends. I hate being alone again.”

He cards his finger through his fine, white curls. “No one forced you to stay in Baldur’s Gate or told you to get married.” Most of them tried to convince her not to wed Terrick.

She frowns. “I didn’t have many other options.”

The vampire scoffs at that. “You could’ve left the city and not get married.”

“And go where?”

“Anywhere your heart desired.”

“The only place I want to be is with you—” Her cheeks burn with the confession, though it’s hard to distinguish with her face already flushed red from crying. “—or any of our friends.”

He pushes off the back of the chair to stand fully. “Then why didn’t you come with one of us?”

“No one wanted me to go with them.”

“What gave you that idea?”

She suddenly feels embarrassed and needs to look away again. “No one asked.”

One step forward. “I’m pretty sure any of our friends would’ve been thrilled to have you accompany them.”

“Any of our other friends, but not you.”

Another step. “And what gave you that idea?”

She narrows her eyes at him. “You know why.”

Two more steps. “Spell it out as if I don’t.”

Robby shuffles in place and adjusts her hold on Callum as a stalling tactic. By now, Astarion is standing right in front of her again. She’s too nervous to meet his eyes. “I’m the reason you’re stuck in the Underdark. It’s my fault you’re responsible for thousands of vampire spawn.” She pauses, debating whether she should say her next words. No, she will. “Stopping the ritual was the right thing to do and I don’t regret it. I would do it again, but … I also recognize you suffered for my decision. Why would you want the person who stuck you in that position around?”

Because he’s madly in love with her and nothing would make him happier than to have her by his side. “My life isn’t precisely as I imagined it would be, and yet I am still content with where I ended up.” As content as he can be without her there. “And you’re right. You would’ve been a reminder for the position I’m in; free and out of Cazador’s control.”

She finally feels brave enough to look into his eyes again. Unfortunately for her, the tears are back with a vengeance. “You don’t hate me, not even a little?”

He gently cups the side of her face and uses his thumb to brush away the fresh tears. She leans into his touch and thank the gods his heart doesn’t function properly or else she would’ve heard it pounding. A small smile finds its way on his lips. “No, not at all.” It’s quite the opposite.

“Then why do I see everyone, at most, twice a year?”

The smile turns wry. “Because we’re shit friends apparently.”

She grabs the wrist on the hand cupping her face. “And why is everyone suddenly so keen on staying in the city for more than two days when that’s never happened before?”

“We were trying to surprise you,” he says.

She gets that cute crinkle in her brow whenever she’s in disbelief. “That’s it?”

He shrugs. “That’s it.”

Tav’s eyes flicker between his, trying to determine if he’s speaking the truth. She so, so badly hopes he is. “You swear?”

He raises his right hand and draws an X on his chest. “Cross my heart, darling.”

And just like that, she relaxes. She releases the breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding and her shoulders droop. A few more tears leak out as she laughs. “Well, this is humiliating.”

His signature smirk is back in place. “I wont tell if you don’t.” He holds a finger up to his lips and winks. “I’d appreciate it if you pretended to be clueless about our long visit.”

Tav laughs some more. “Deal.”

“Deal.”

She pulls him into a one armed hug to seal the deal. “I’m sorry for being dramatic.”

He should be glad she’s moving past everything that just happened, but it breaks his heart that she’s taking the blame. However, it’s for the best that he leaves it be. “Melodrama is my thing.” He hugs her back. “But I forgive you.”

Being in his embrace feels right, feels safe. Tav pulls him in a little closer. “You know, Callum would love if you came by more often. It doesn’t have to be monthly, but once a season sounds fair.”

“Just Callum, eh?” he teases.

And she’s blushing again. “I wept over how much I missed you. It should go without saying that I also want to see you more often.”

“I could stand to hear you explicitly say—ow!”

Tav leans away and smacks him on the back. “Don’t be an ass, Astarion.”

He holds his hands up in surrender. “Just trying to lighten the mood, Tav dear.” Even with her leaning away, she’s still so close. She’s right there. All he would have to do is lean forward and … “Why, I believe it’s about time we get you home.”

“Yes. Right.” She reluctantly takes a couple steps back. “Don’t forget the, uh …”

The vampire holds back a grimace. “The magical prop that prevents me from burning alive, I know.” He goes and picks up the umbrella with a loud huff. “Let’s try this again.” He saunters over to the door, opens it, and bows lowly. “Lead on.”

Tav comes over and hooks her arm with his. “Okay.”

And they were off.

…

“Why aren’t we killing the bastard again?”

Gale pinches the ridge of his nose. “Because he’s a public figure,” he deadpans.

Astarion matches his expression and rolls his eyes. “So was Gortash and we still killed him.”

“Gortash wasn’t married to our friend.”

The vampire shrugs. “Semantics.”

“Astarion,” Gale hisses.

“What?”

He is well on his way to a migraine. Astarion is a (mostly) trusted friend, but he’s a lot to deal with at best and downright incorrigible at worst. Tav was always the one to steer him in the right direction. “I think we can all agree in our distaste for Tav’s choice in spouse, but it’s a delicate situation.”

“Distaste,” he repeats mockingly. “I fucking hate the man.”

Gale sighs. “I concur.” Astarion opens his mouth, probably to say something smartass, so the wizards beat him to it. “But you agreed to stick with the plan. A plan that I believe will leave Tav and Callum unscathed.”

His eyes snap to the woman he loves across the room. She’s smiling, glowing, as she watches Karlach and Wyll entertain her son. She doesn’t deserve what that monster is doing to her. Terrick doesn’t deserve to continue living. If it was his choice, Astarion would slit the man’s throat and be done with it, but apparently the public needs evidence of his wrong doings. “Fine …”

“Thank you.”

“If he steps one foot out of line though, screw the plan.”

Gale chuckles darkly and pats him on the back. “I know.”

[quiverwingquack]

to face unafraid, the plans that we've made

(My giftee for @duckblrsecretsanta2023 was @georgiarose! I hope you like it!)

Gyro and Fenton decide to head home together, and are greeted with the first snow of the season.

The lab is quiet. Manny went home hours ago, and Boyd and Huey took Lil Bulb back to the mansion for some kind of sleepover. That was… four hours ago? Five? Gyro’s been too wrapped up in his latest project to pay much attention to the clock. If he just adjusts this dial, and attaches the wiring to the panels just right, it might work better than last time. And Fenton’s part should be finished tomorrow, so they can start beta tests on this version, so–

“It’s, um, it’s getting late, is all,” Fenton stumbles through his sentences. “I guess–I, um, I just think you should get some rest too. And now would be a good time! I–I mean, if you want to, that is, I–yeah. Sleep?”

Gyro looks up from the gizmo he’s been tinkering with, catching a glimpse of a fading blush on Fenton’s cheek feathers. He hadn’t been listening, but the sight gives him butterflies–why, he doesn’t know, they’ve been together for a few months now–and he puts down his work. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t want to go home and get some rest now, anyway. They’ve had a lot of late nights in the lab lately, one too many projects in progress, and he knows they’ll both do better work when they’re well-rested, anyway.

“That sounds great, Doctor,” he replies, watching that blush blossom across Fenton’s face again. He’s usually not one to tease, at least not so affectionately, but Fenton’s a sweetheart, and he loves to see him flustered. “Maybe I’ll buy us something to eat, on the way.”

“Oh! I, um, yeah. I–yes! Food sounds great!” Fenton smiles like sunshine, lighting up the lab as he turns to leave. “I’ll, uh, I’ll get our coats!”

Gyro watches him go with a smile of his own. Sometimes it feels like they’re still learning how to be in love. He definitely is. But Fenton… he’s easy to love, with his nervous kindness and drive to help everyone he can and excitement for new, unknown experiences–Gyro really doesn’t know how he ever found Fenton annoying before. His boyfriend is everything he’s ever wanted.

When he returns, Fenton’s bundled up in a scarf M’ma insisted he wear and a pair of mittens gifted to him by a grateful citizen, and carrying Gyro’s coat. Ever the chivalrous gentleman, he helps Gyro into his own coat and scarf, and leads the way to the elevator so he can open the doors for them.

Gyro shuts off the lights, each bank of bright white lights turning inky black with a click. Then, he takes Fenton’s hand, and they head for the surface together.

The ground floor is quiet, a single row of lights left on when everyone else went home. Gyro’s used to leaving this late, if he leaves at all—usually he’d end up taking a quick nap in the lab or stay up until dawn without realizing it—but Fenton squeezes his hand nervously. Gyro draws circles with his thumb on the back of Fenton’s hand reassuringly, taking the lead toward the lobby.

The front doors are giant, with equally large windows looking out at the empty parking lot. The sky is gloomy and dark, even for this late hour, and as they approach the exit, it becomes obvious that it’s started to snow. The big windows reveal small snowflakes drifting down to the pavement in a silent, sparkling dance.

“It’s snowing!” Fenton chirps excitedly, pushing open one of the doors. “Gyro, look!”

“It sure is,” he agrees, pulling the collar of his coat up as if to hide from the snowflakes. “First of the season.”

“Yeah!” His partner looks to the sky with wide, wonder-filled eyes, then spins around slowly as he looks up. “It’s beautiful! I hope it sticks, we could wake up tomorrow to a winter wonderland!”

“Yeah, beautiful,” Gyro agrees. But he isn’t looking at the snow—he’s focused on Fenton’s hair, snowflakes clinging to it like glitter. Focused on his boyfriend’s bright eyes and wide smile, and his delight over something as small as the wintery weather. Fenton’s enchanted by the snow, and Gyro… well, he’s enchanted by Fenton.

Science can explain many things, Gyro thinks, watching him twirl a slow circle under a yellow parking lot light. Science can explain the way that light glows, and why the snow is falling slowly and softly, and science can even explain why his heart begins to race, watching Fenton pause and turn to look back at him. It takes Gyro’s breath away, looking at the way he’s standing, with a glowing yellow halo behind him and sparkly snowflakes clinging to his shoulders.

Science can do plenty, but this doesn’t feel scientific at all. Leaning in for a kiss, bathed in golden light and silent snow, it feels… magical, instead. Fenton’s warm hand caresses Gyro’s cold cheek feathers, and the world beyond this quiet, empty parking lot seems to fade away around them. Gyro closes his eyes, leaning into the warm embrace and pulling Fenton a little closer.

This moment is not science, but magic, and Gyro wants to remember this feeling forever.

[morganski-19]

I Don't Know Which Way's Home

Chapter 3: Awkward Fumblings

ao3 link, Part 1, Part 2

September 1985

Julie sits on one of the picnic benches in the community area of the trailer park. She has one of her many notebooks open to a page she’s been working on for weeks. It’s a pencil drawing of the short story she wrote a few weeks ago. An empty field with serene trees and clear skies. The perfect background for the forefront of her story, if she could just figure out how to draw it. 

One of the trailer doors slams and a girl around her age goes around her trailer, heading to the gate with a small food tray. Her name is Max, Julie thinks. She and her mom moved into the trailer down the street from her a month or two ago. 

She shuts her notebook, the ideas of how to depict the scene she was drawing not coming to her anyway. It’s weird how the scenes created in her mind can get twisted when she tries drawing them on paper. 

When Max is walking back to her trailer, now with an empty tray of food, Julie walks up to her. 

“Hey,” she says, interrupting Max’s movement. “I’m Julie, I live two trailers down from you.”

“Cool,” Max replies with a cold glare. “I’m Max.”

“Were you feeding your dog?�� Julie was never good at making friends, she doesn’t even know why she’s talking to Max at all. But she knows everyone else in the trailer park and they’re either too old to be friends with or too young. There’s just something about Max that she thinks might click. 

Max rolls her eyes slightly. Julie can’t tell if she’s annoyed with her or something else. “Yeah, he’s out back behind that fence.”

“Oh, I’ve seen him a few times. Wondered when he showed up.” They stand there awkwardly for a moment, Julie slightly swaying with the book held in front of her. “It was nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too,” Max says with an attitude that means she probably didn’t mean it. 

Julie gives her a tight-lipped smile before walking back to her trailer. 

She doesn’t talk to Max for a few more weeks. She sees her a lot, just from sitting out on park benches and sometimes at school. But she doesn’t go up to talk to her again, Max clearly didn’t like it the first time. Doesn’t blame her. She caught her at a bad time, probably, and that made her not want to talk to Julie again. It just happens sometimes, most of the time. 

The trailer door slams shut again after a screaming match Julie could hear between Max and her mom. Mainly Max screaming, but about what Julie doesn’t know. After living in a trailer park for so long, she got used to shutting out the noise of the other trailers. They all have the thinnest walls known to man and sound travels fast, but it’s better for everyone if they learn to tune it out. 

It’s bad enough living in a small town where everyone seems to know everything, they don’t need to be hearing what’s going on inside everyone else’s homes. 

Julie expects Max to go behind her trailer to where her dog sits behind the gate. That’s where she normally goes after slamming the door shut. But instead, the table creaks as Max sits across from her on the other bench. 

“What are you doing,” she asks bluntly. 

“Drawing a scene from one of my stories. I can’t seem to get the tone right.” Julie erases the people she had drawn in the foreground, they weren’t right. 

Max nods, looking unsure of why she’s even here. After their last interaction, Julie can’t help but ask the same question. “What is the tone supposed to be?”

“Tense. The story is about a family that seems normal to the reader, but there’s something off that they just can’t place. Until it ends and you find out that the dad was never actually addressed properly because he was a ghost the whole time.”

“Spoilers much,” Max jokes. It’s surprising, but not unwelcome. “That’s a cool concept though.”

“Thanks,” Julie puts her pencil down, deciding to try and figure out how to fix it later. 

“Did you hear anything before, when I was yelling at my mom?” Max blurts out, eyes darting away when asking the question. 

Julie shakes her head. “I try not to listen to what happens in other people’s trailers. You end up hearing things you regret. Like, a lot of sex.”

That makes Max snort. “I get what you mean.” There’s a comfortable silence that falls over them this time, like they bridged a gap that Julie hasn’t ever really before. “Could you show me your drawing, maybe I can help you figure out what to do.”

“Sure,” Julie shrugs. 

. . . 

“What the hell are you doing here, dingus,” Robin scolds him as he walks through the door of Family Video, head throbbing. “You said you had a migraine, get out of here.”

Steve winces when he fully opens his eyes to the bad fluorescents. “I called out last week for an obvious fake sickness, Keith won’t let me do it again, even if it’s real.”

“You look like you can barely stand, Steve. Go home. Actually, no, I’m calling Eddie to come pick you up.”

He waves her off. “No, no. It’s fine. I just need to drink some water and take more painkillers. I’m at the end of my last dose. And I drove over here just fine.”

Robin glares at him, her jaw clenched. “Fine. But if I see you pushing yourself too far across the limit, I am calling Eddie and helping him push you into his car to take you home.”

“I’ll be fine, Rob, promise.” He unscrews the cap of his water bottle and swallows two more pills. 

“And I’m turning off some of the lights, I don’t care.” Robin walks to the light switches by the break room and flips the switch where every other light turns off. Steve hates to admit it, but it did give him a little bit of relief. 

Compared to his other migraines, today’s ranks at about a three. He was able to get out of bed and stand, so that automatically puts it underneath an eighth. And when he takes his pain meds on time and makes sure to stay hydrated, he can make it through one six-hour shift. He probably would have called out if it was any longer, but he can do it today. 

And luckily for him, Thursdays tend to be slow so he’s able to lean on the counter for the majority of his shift while rewinding tapes. A tedious job that Keith would yell at him for not also doing returns while they were rewinding, but he left an hour ago so Steve could do what he wanted. Within reason. 

Halfway through his shift, there is a slight crowd of people as the school day ends always bringing in a few kids on their way home from school. The excess noise from the groups of teens makes Steve’s head throb more, or at least makes him notice it more. He takes a few deep breaths in between customers, trying to keep a less pissed-off face on. It might not work but he tries. 

As the crowd weans down, someone comes up to the counter, dropping a tape on it getting Steve’s attention. 

“Hey, Steve,” a familiar voice he can’t place says. “Don’t take this the wrong way but you look like shit.”

When he lifts his head, he sees Julie, staring at him with more concern than she probably wants to. They haven’t talked since last week when she showed up at his house. Not like he didn’t want to. But he didn’t have a number or an address to go to and waiting to see if he could catch her after school sounded creepy. So, he was waiting for her to come to him, but she didn’t, not yet. Maybe now he could say something, apologize for not trying to get her to stay more. 

“Hey,” he says, perking up a bit. “How are you?”

She shrugs. “As good as I can be. Uh, this might be insanely overdue. I was finally going through some of my old stuff and guess I never returned it.” She slides the tape across the counter. 

Steve picks it up, scans it, and immediately gets rid of the late fees. “You’re good.”

“What,” Julie looks at him confused. “I know I’ve had that tape for at least three weeks, there should be late fees.”

“For most people yeah, but the joys of knowing someone who is willing to cheat the system is no late fees.”

“And risk his job just to let the kids walk over him,” Robin interrupts, coming behind the counter. “Not you, the other kids,” she turns to Steve. “Go take your break, I got it.”

“There still a rush, Rob-.”

“And I can see you struggling from across the store. Go. Take. Your. Break. You absolute dingus.”

Julie looks at them confused. “I know I said you look like shit but are you ok?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he brushes off. 

“No, he’s not. He should be home but he’s an idiot who decided it was a good idea to come to work with a migraine.”

Steve rolls his eyes as he goes to grab his lunch from the break room. “I’m going to eat in my car, be back in fifteen.”

“Hey,” Julie calls out to him when he leaves the building. “I don’t mean to take up your break, but I just wanted to say that I’m sorry. I know you didn’t mean for last week to go like that. It wasn’t fair for me to lash out like that.”

“It’s ok. I’m sorry you couldn’t stay longer.” He sits on the hood of his car, motioning for her to sit next to him.

She does. “Me too. I really hate it at that house.”

“You know you’re not like banned from coming over. I mean you don’t if you don’t want to. But as long as you don’t stay the night and don’t break curfew, Hop said it was ok for you to come over.”

She takes a moment to think about it. “I think I would like that.”

“I would too. I always wanted a sibling,” he adds on, trying to show her that he cares. 

“I did too,” Julie smiles. “I’ll let you get back to your break, hope your head feels better.”

“Thanks. See you around.”

Steve eats his sandwich from his car, taking a moment to lie in the back seat, throwing an arm over his eyes to try and give them a break from the light. When he gets back into the store, it’s a bit better, but still there. It’s one of the many life adjustments he’s had to go through after four years of going through the same thing over and over again, but he’s slowly getting used to it. 

“I saw you talking to Julie on your break, you two good?”

“I think so, she said that she might come over sometimes.”

Robin smiles. “That’s good. She seemed like a good kid. We talked a little bit when you were having your absurdly long talk with Eddie and even though she was kind of reserved, I could tell. Like she just gave me that impression, both in the night before and in that morning. What’s wrong you’re giving me that look when you feel stupid asking a question.”

“I haven’t made a friend under normal circumstances in years, Rob. How do I even go about this?” Steve asks, suddenly hit with the realization that he knows so little about her.

“I don’t know, things. I mean I know you said you didn’t get to talk that much when she was there the last time, so maybe just use what you learned last time and go from there. Also, if you think these are normal circumstances then I hate to break it to you, but it is not. Bond over your shitty father. Get the awkward getting-to-know phase out of the way. Something”

Steve shrugs. “Maybe.”

. . . 

Julie knocks on the door of the Harrington house for the second time in her life, but this time she is supposed to. At least she hopes. All her life she’s felt that wherever her father fucked off, she would never be accepted. Especially when she learned the circumstances of how she came to be, there would be no chance. She half expected that when her case workers finally located her father, he would give up the rights so fast and stick her in the system for two more years until she ages out.

Which in the grand scheme of things, wouldn’t be the worst since she can leave in a few years. But she would do anything to get out of that house and can’t imagine that the next one would be any better.

But there was a small glimpse of hope that she couldn’t help but start to believe in. Steve genuinely seemed interested in knowing her, interested in trying to have some sort of relationship. And he wanted to try too.

It wasn’t surprising really, he was the only family she had that actually seemed interested at all. Someone she didn’t even know about until a month ago, and never met until the previous week. But in the short amount of time that they actually talked, she just had a feeling that this might work out.

“Give him some credit,” Chief Hopper said to her before dropping her off at the foster home. “There was nothing he could do to stop me from bringing you back. I’m not going to tell you what to do with your life because God knows that teenagers never listen to me, but just give it some thought.”

As Steve opens the door and invites her back into his house, she can’t help but think that what he told her was right. She wasn’t mad at Steve, and she should give them both a real chance to do something before jumping to conclusions. Both of them deserved that.

“So,” Steve starts, leading her to the living room. “This is going to sound really stupid.”

“Why do I not like the sound of that?”

He snorts. “I don’t really either, but it’s all I got. We don’t know that much about each other, so I figured we could speed run some of those really stupid icebreakers just to get it out there.”

“To get the awkward stuff out of the way and start to find things in common. I get it.”

“Yep, exactly,” he nods. “So, things about me. I just turned twenty back in August. I’m not in college and don’t plan to be. I work at the video store, as you saw. My favorite color is green, I told you some of my hobbies. And that’s all I got right now.”

“Very interesting information,” She says sarcastically. “My turn, I guess. I’m sixteen, my birthday is in January if you didn’t catch that already. Uhm. I don’t have a job, but I wouldn’t mind getting an after-school one soon to start saving up early. I would like to go to college sometime, but I’m not sure if that would be entirely in the cards right now. My favorite color is blue. And like I said, my hobbies are writing and drawing, but I also like to read a good bit too.”

“What do you want to major in, if you did go to college? Do you know yet?”

“Writing, I think. I’ve been doing it for a while now and I really like it, and English is my favorite subject so I definitely want to do something with literature.”

“That’s really cool. I wasn’t the greatest in school, I tried to pay attention but a lot of the subjects just were hard for me. But I always did the best in history for some reason. Or gym if we’re counting that as a real subject.”

Julie laughs. “Wow, you really were a jock.”

“I like sports and for a time, it was the only thing I thought I was good at.”

“And now? What else are you good at?”

Steve sinks back into the couch, taking a second to think. “I like to think I’m a good cook. I’ve been alone really since high school, so I learned how to cook. Probably not the best in the world, but I like doing it, and it’s fun.”

“What do you mean by really alone?” She asks. “I’m sorry, you don’t have to answer that if you don’t want to. I was just curious.”

He laughs, like what he just said wasn’t incredibly sad. “I forget that not everyone knows. My dad always went on a lot of business trips, but for the first few years since I was born, my mom stayed home. Then she found out about his cheating, and went with him. After that there were nannies, none stayed for more than a few years, my mom always found something about them that pissed her off. When I started high school, she stopped hiring them. Both of them agreed that I was old enough to be home alone.”

Not like she’s too shocked, but to hear that her suspicions were right about Steve’s parents never being home hurts. She can’t imagine what it was like living in a home where the two people who are supposed to take care of you are never there.

“When did your mom find out about the cheating?” She’s hit with the sudden thought that it might have been around the time she was born, and she couldn’t help but ask.

“I was four, maybe five.” It takes him a second, but his eyes widen, and he sits forward, mouth agape. “Holy shit.”

“That’s probably not a coincidence, is it?”

He runs a hand through his hair. “It would be insane if it was. I thought she wouldn’t have known, that he kept it from her too. She must have found out somehow.”

Guilt hits her. He lived an empty life because of her.

“I’m sorry.”

“Not your fault. It’s his fault, always was. He cheated on my mom constantly. On the rare chance that they were home, the screaming matches were intense. She knew of them, of course she knew about you.”

“I’m still sorry. You didn’t deserve to be left alone because your dad is a piece of shit.”

He huffs. “I’m sorry too.”

“How did you meet Robin? I never got to ask the other day.” She changes the subject to something different, hoping that it will bring them out of the weird mood that they landed in. 

“We worked at the same summer job. Scoops Ahoy, the ice cream place that was in the mall before it burned down. The one with the really terrible sailor outfits.”

Julie winces. “I remember those. They were pretty bad. And Eddie, when did you become friends.”

“Spring break, during all of the craziness that happened.”

She nods her head, letting him ask a question about her before they just start talking. It’s weird but nice at the same time. They strangely get along well and the conversations, while slowing at some points, keep picking back up. It’s feels natural, like it’s not forced. 

But then five o’clock hits and she has to head back to the foster home. He offers to drive her, and she accepts, loading her bike into the back of the car. The car ride isn’t awkward, even if they don’t talk the whole time. It’s comfortable, it’s safe. 

In the short amount of time that she’s known Steve, she can tell that he’s safe to be around. It’s just the feeling she gets from him. She’d be lying if she said it wasn’t surprising, but it’s not unwelcome. 

“Oh, I almost forgot,” Steve says, rustling in his trunk when he helps get out her bike. “I wanted to give you this,”

She takes the box. “A walkie-talkie?”

“Yeah. I use them to talk to the kids I look after and their range is like unbelievably far. So I figured you could use it to talk to me, if you wanted. Or to shoot a warning that you’re coming over. Just something.”

It’s weird, but she accepts it. “Ok, thanks.”

“Yeah no problem,” he shrugs. “I’ll see you around.”

. . . 

When Steve doesn't know how to feel about something, he tends to just not feel anything about it. Like this whole situation about his father, he doesn’t know how to feel about it. 

His father is a cheater and has been for pretty much Steve’s entire existence. There was no secret about that. He’s made his own opinions about that a long time ago, and just shuffled it all to the part of his mind that he doesn’t like to think about too much. Because it hurts too much to think about it all, so he’d rather not. 

But the truth about it was that Steve was used to how his dad was. He was used to the way he treated Steve. How there were barely any phone calls unless he did something that would affect his dad’s image. No birthday or holiday calls, barely even making an appearance during Christmas or Thanksgiving anymore. Just an empty house that was never really lived in enough to even have memories created, let alone any semblance of a life. 

It was just Steve, and he was fine with that. As long as he was the only person that got hurt. 

Even that logic was flawed as his mom has been hurt for years. But that was different, she was an adult. And even though Steve knows that there would be no way that his mom could leave without her reputation being ruined, she still has some responsibility for how he was treated. He never blamed her, but she wasn’t without blame. 

So Steve didn’t care that he was hurt, as long as he was the only child of Richard Harrington that was. And for the majority of his life, that was true. Except it wasn’t. 

And Steve had no idea how to feel about that. 

When Steve wakes up the day after Julie came over again, it’s like all of the hurt that he has tried so hard not to feel has come back to the surface. All of the hurt that he’s become numb to has festered enough to make his skin crawl again. The hurt that would make him want to act out and seek attention from people who never really cared about him, but he wanted them to. 

He stares at his ceiling, thinking about all of the times that he’s woken up just like this. Empty house, bare walls, not a soul other than himself to talk to. More mornings than anyone should have been able to experience. Where it happens enough that the numbers get so large there’s no point in counting them anymore. 

Steve knows that there are people out there that care about him. Knows that there are people that love him. His friends and the family he’s made through the past experiences of his life loved him and he loved them. But the fact that he had to make a family outside of his own just to be loved the way he wanted hurt. 

Parents are supposed to love their kids. At least that’s what it feels like. From what Steve’s observed through his friends and even in his job, families are supposed to love each other. Fathers are supposed to be there to play catch in the yard, moms are supposed to be there to provide a hug that cures all tears. They are supposed to be home, not shove their kids off on someone else. 

It took a long time for Steve to realize that his family was broken and he couldn’t fix it. That one more party wouldn’t get his dad to notice him, for his mom to come home. Making the team got him a phone call because it looked good on them, not because they were proud of him. Getting rejected from college hurt their image, so they cared. Their son refusing to get a job other than part-time at a video store hurt their image, so they cared. There was a scar on his neck that looked suspicious enough that it made people talk, even if it wasn’t true, but it hurt their image, so they cared. 

Not one time did they ever come to visit him during his many hospital stays. Not once did they even send a card. The birthday gifts stopped after the Beemer, and even then it was rare. They didn’t care about him, just what he could do for them. 

Steve was just so tired of acting how people who didn’t even really care about him wanted him to. So he wasn’t going to anymore. 

He gets up and ready, heading straight to his car without a second thought. Driving with a half-baked plan that is made out of a sense of rebellion and just generally wanting something. Steve wants something with someone for the first time in a long time, and he’s tired of holding himself back from it. Even if his dad would hate it, he’s stopped caring that he would. 

“Steve,” Eddie asks confused when he opens the door. “Everything ok?”

Steve nods, letting himself in. “Yep, everything’s fine. Great even.”

“You sure?” Eddie looks at him with a concerned face. “You seem really jittery.”

He is feeling a bit shaky but that’s not going to stop him. “I’m done doing things just because I think it will get my dad’s approval.”

“I thought you already were, but continue. This is good.”

“So I’m going to things that I want, even if I know my dad will hate it. I’m not going to hold myself back anymore.”

“Good, you shouldn’t.”

Steve walks up to him. “I’m going to do what I want, because I want it without thinking of what could happen if he finds out. He acts without thinking of me, why should I act with him in mind.”

“I really like where this is going, Steve, but you are still scaring me a little.”

He lightly grabs the sides of Eddie’s face, a shocked noise slipping out when he does so. “I’m going to do what I want to.”

Before Eddie gets the chance to say anything else, Steve kisses him. Harder than he should of but he doesn’t care. He’s wanted this for far longer than he’s realized and isn’t going to let that voice in the back of his head tell him that it’s wrong anymore. He already canceled their previous plans because of that, he isn’t going to do that again. 

After the shock, Eddie kisses him back, leaning into Steve’s touch and wrapping his arms around him, pulling Steve in closer. 

. . . 

Julie’s least favorite class is probably gym class. A bunch of kids wearing the same clothes, all of which have shorts that are way too short, playing some dumb sport that her teacher deemed important for them to learn. The only good part about the class is that it’s not co-ed, she can’t imagine the comments that would be made about her if the guys were in the class. 

But she has to do it, so she goes out to the gym, the cold air hitting her as she exits the locker room, clutching her middle and just begging it’s something easy today. She notices a girl in a wheelchair by the bleachers, another girl with short hair sitting next to her animately talking about something. It’s Max, Julie realizes. She hasn’t seen her in school since last year, or at all really. 

Not that they were ever really friends. They talked a few times, but never enough to form something real. And after a while, Max came outside in general less and less, always looking like something else was taking over her mind. Julie wanted to reach out and ask if she was ok, but never felt like it was her place to do so. 

And then something big over spring break happened that no one had a good explanation for, and Julie didn’t see Max again for a long time. 

“Do they really make you come to gym class if you can’t participate?” Julie asks, walking over to Max and her friend. 

Max’s eyes are slightly clouded over and she looks at Julie like she can tell that she’s there, but can’t see it. “Yeah, it’s pretty stupid.” Her friend leans over to tell Max who it is, a face of recognition forming. “Julie this is my friend Jane, she just moved back to Hawkins from California.”

“Nice to meet you. Odd to hear someone moving here instead of away.”

“We are happier here,” Jane supplies, speaking with certainty in her voice. 

“I thought you moved too. I haven’t heard anyone drive to your trailer in a few weeks. Thought you might have gotten out of that shit-hole.”

Julie clams up, debating whether or not to tell her. But she’d rather not get emotional in the middle of gym class. “I moved to a place on Cherry Street, that’s probably why.” 

Their conversation is cut short when the teacher calls everyone to the center of the gym to go over the rules. Her mind is everywhere but the gym. Racing thoughts of what could have happened to Max to cause her to be in a wheelchair and possibly blinded, from what she could tell. Only landing at the same spot all of her thoughts seem to end up for the last few weeks. 

She thought that maybe there would be a time when she could think of her mom without almost breaking down, but she couldn’t. It seems that every time someone mentions anything about her, all she can think about is the fact that she’s dead. That Julie is left alone without her mom, forever. 

All she wants is to remember her mom without crying for once. Think of the happy memories with that sadness old people seem to get when talking about their friends. A form of silent sadness that doesn’t cause her to want to rip her heart out. She seems to continuously wake up with sore, red eyes and a pain she has no way of stopping. 

. . . 

July 1986

A few different cars pull up in front of the Mayfield’s trailer, a bunch of kids around her age pouring out and going up the door. All of them cheering when it opens. She recognizes a few of them from her classes. They must have been Max’s friends. 

She hasn’t seen Max since spring break. The only answer that her mom could ever get from asking neighbors was that she was severely injured from the earthquakes and was hospitalized. For months, apparently. 

Max came home last week in a wheelchair. Some people had come over to help build a ramp to the trailer a few days before and showed up again when Max came home. She wanted to go over and say that she was happy to see her back, but it felt wrong for some reason. 

Julie doesn’t know a lot about earthquakes, but she knows that they don’t happen in the middle of America, let alone Indiana. And they don’t happen in the way that it happened here. The cracks in the ground weren’t on any fault lines, or near them at all. And for all of them to start from one location and hit city hall, wasn’t normal. 

Nothing that happened over spring break was normal. She had seen the same bunch of kids running around the trailer park a few days before the quake. And the string of murders that Eddie Munson was wrongfully accused of happened days before the quake. 

None of it made any sense, and Julie had no way of knowing what really happened. Some said this town was possessed by the devil, but that was evangelical Christian panic shit that claimed a board game was demonic. There was something wrong with Hawkins, and Julie wanted to know. But sometimes questions never get answered, and she had to accept that. 

Part 4

Tag list(let me know if you want to be added or removed): @homoerotictangerine, @mugloversonly, @thesuninyaface, @imyelenasexual, @anaibis, @ilovecupcakesandtea, @brainsteddielyrotted, @jackiemonroe5512, @eddie-munsons-missing-nipple, @goodolefashionedloverboi, @cinnamon-mushroomabomination, @lolawonsstuff, @writingandmushroomdragons, @stevesbipanic, @sierra-violet, @steddie-as-they-go, @dauntlessdiva, @mousedetective, @the-daydreamer-in-the-corner, @zombiethingy, @connected-dots-st-reblogger, @that-agender-from-pluto, @allyricas, @cheddartreets, @devondespresso, @crypticcorvidinacottage, @queenie-ofthe-void @chronicpainstevetruther, @cheddartreets, @theupsidedownrealestateagent, @acidbubblegummie, @sirsnacksalot, @l0st-strawberry, @helpimstuckposting, @strawberry-starss, @freddykicksasses, @italianwhore1, @i-threw-my-name-out-the-window, @rageagainsttheapathy, @nuggies4life, @ape31, @whimsicalwitchm, @chrissycunninghamfanblog, @michellegilligan, @hippielittlemetalhead, @bridget-malfoy-stilinski-hale, @jaytriesstuff, @confused-stripes, @faeb1tch42069, @marklee-blackmore, @hel-spawn, @genderless-spoon, @mamafaithful, @estrellami-1, @starryeyedpoet17 @i-amthepizzaman

[lemmetreatya]

Your local jojo simp sliding in once more :3

Dilftaro X black!fem reader NSFW👀

6789998212 — Dilftaro X Black!fem reader

contains: mentions of sex, breeding kink, pregnancy kink, penetration (f! receive)

YKW??? ik i can always count on you for these requests like you always pull through and tbh you’re an OG for that. I love u man Also: props to anyone who guesses the title’s meaning 😁

You weren’t really a late night call typa person, and in all honesty, neither was Jotaro. But there was something about hearing his voice so raspy and spent over the receiver in the latter PM hours that made you contemplate your innate dislikes.

“I want you here with me. Right now.”

You could practically hear him pouting through the phone. It was amusing because you know he’d never be brave enough to show you this side of him in person.

Rolling onto your back, you laid an arm over your forehead as the other held your phone to your ears.

“But Jojo, you know I have work early in the morning. I can’t just jump out right now.”

Without a beat, the man replied.

“Then let me come over. Jolyne’s fast asleep and won’t even know I’ve popped out. I won’t be gone long enough for her to notice.”

With a faux gasp at his willingness to disregard his parental activities, you giggled into the receiver.

“Jotaro! That’s not a very responsible adult thing to say.”

“Doesn’t matter.” There was the muffled crackling sound of movement on Jotaro’s end. “Right now, I’m not thinking of being a responsible adult, I just know I want to do adult things with you.”

If only the man could see your current expression. It was rare enough to get much out of the man about how he wanted to spend his time with you let alone words like these.

Let it be anybody else and it would have been classified as mild but the fact that it was him?

“Adult things?” You teased. “Like what?”

“Don’t make me say it. I’d rather show you than talk about it.”

His tone was gruff, as usual, but there was an edge to it that you couldn’t decipher. With a hum, you decided to test that edge.

“If you don’t say it out loud then how will I know you’ll actually mean it when you come see me? I need confirmation that you’ll keep your end of the deal.”

“Woman, I—” He couldn’t even finished his words. All he could do was sigh and it amused you because you could even imagine just how done he looked.

But for a few seconds, Jotaro didn’t say much else. You knew the things that made him tick weren’t necessarily the same as your own and sometimes were unexplainable. However, it’s when you heard him warmly hum underneath his breath, that you knew he wasn’t mad.

Oh no, Jotaro was anything but.

“I really want to make love to you but seriously make love to you.” His voice was low but in a very smooth and easy way.

With an upwards hum at his daring words, you encouraged his behaviour.

“Oh? Like ‘put a baby inside of me’ make love or ‘let’s keep going until the AMs’ typa make love?”

The man made an unsure sound.

“Both? I dunno. I just wanna be deep in you — Definitely cum inside you. I haven’t done that in a while.” Hearing him work through his thoughts definitely burned a fiery passion within your heart.

“No, you haven’t.” You softly clarified as you snagged your bottom lip between your teeth, your arm now coming from covering your head and just over your stomach on the blanket.

“In fact…” There was another shuffling sound on the other end of the receiver but this time it was the thick flickering of pages. “It’s been 9 months and 27 days since the last time we fucked raw.”

“You’ve been keeping count?!”

“No, I’ve been journaling it. But yes, I’m aware of how long since it’s last been.” He reinforced.

With a shocked but amused face, you couldn’t help but laugh at the bizarre notion of Jotaro having these intricacies about you archived.

However, it was nice to know he was getting more comfortable with telling you these things. Jotaro could be quite reserved at times, and say things in a way that seemed strange to you, but over the years he’s opened up to you a lot more. His tendencies were so recognisable to you now and if anything, they only turned you on more.

“What’s so funny?” The man asked. He must have heard you snickering.

“Nothing, Jojo.” You ensured. “I’m just thinking that’s the same amount of time it’d take to have a baby so if I wasn’t on anything at the time—“

“I would love to impregnate you multiple times over.” He darkly noted.

Now it was you who was stuttering to find the right words. With your skin growing hot, you tried to ask for clarification.

“Y-you… What, you want more kids?” You muttered.

Jotaro made a thoughtful hum. It was then followed by an even more thoughtful statement.

“No, I don’t think I do. I’d definitely like to see your belly swell with child and your breast leak with milk, but I don’t know if I want the repercussions of a child.”

Surprised at his new found bravery but enticed by his imagined plans for you, you continued to tread icy waters. Bringing your hands underneath the blanket, you probed the man.

“So.” You sultry purred. “You’re saying that if I let you come over you’d knock me up?”

With a deep chuckle the man disagreed.

“No. I’m saying that if you let me round then i’d come to fuck your beautiful pussy, split it open with my cock and then pour my semen into your womb with the intention to bear you with offspring. I’d plug your cunt with my fingers so none of my seed spills but I’d do all of that again and again and again and again till you’re so utterly spent and so full of my come that you wouldn’t even know which ways up — the only thing you’d know is that you’d have to wait those nine months until you see the fruits of our labour.”

Speechless at his words, you could only inhale deep unsteady breaths.

The lewd activities Jotaro had spoken out loud for you was driving you crazy. Knowing he must have been thinking about doing this to you for so long — enough for him to keep count of the days — sparked an unbridged lust within your chest.

Speaking up first, Jotaro broke the silence. His voice didn’t have a hint of amusement in but you knew he felt smug knowing he’d already won you over.

“So? If I knock on your door in 30 minutes time, you’ll open up, yes?” He deadpanned.

With a rather exasperated sigh you had to momentarily close your eyes in order to regather yourself. You know you had work in the morning and you really should advise Jotaro to stay home but there was just no way you could deny him this.

“Don’t worry about knocking.” You breathed. “It’ll already be open.”

A satisfied hum sounded from the other side.

“Good. I’ll see you then.” Jotaro’s voice was a lot more softer before he ended the call.

Removing the phone from your ears, all you could do was stare up at the ceiling in shock, albeit a shock that continued to flame the warm feeling that was circulating around your body.

You know he said to give him half an hour but you also knew Jotaro would find a way to make it in much less.

Finally deciding you should get ready for him, you slipped yourself out of bed and made your way to put something a bit more revealing on.

With a coy smile, your lips turned up at the corners.

Maybe late night calls weren’t so bad after all.