#ruining your day with angst because i was too lazy to add on to this
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chivgf · 5 months ago
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chill out
Riri x reader angst!!
Ring, ring.
Your vibrating phone lit up in your lap, interrupting the music playing in your earbuds. You took a quick gander before declining and swiping the call from your girlfriend, Riri, out of the way, and unpausing your song. Before you left the house, you'd been in an argument about her suit. There were many malfunctions and it wasn't nearly fixed yet, but she insisted she go on an important mission anyways. Foul words were exchanged, and “I'm sorry's” weren't. You stormed out of her messy garage and took a break for a while, before hopping back on the subway before it got too dark. And there you sat, anticipating coming back home to her and making up. Your sealed eyes kept out the straining green-ish train lights, & the migraine you'd had all day started to soothe. It almost seized completely until--
Ring, ring.
Again? An irritated groan escaped your body as you finally picked up and spoke into your earbuds microphone. “What, Riri?” you grumbled, knowing full well you couldn't wait to hear her voice again.
There was an uncomfortable silence on the other end before shaky breath could be heard. In the background of the call, your perked up ears picked up strong winds and glass shards crunching, along with faint pained whimpering. “Riri?” you said again, a tinge of concern in your voice.
✧⁠ ✧⁠ ✧⁠
“Y/n..?” Riri groaned hoarsely as she squeezed your hand slightly. The air caught in the back of your throat as you pulled away from her grasp and ran out of the room. The blinding hospital lights glistened from the floors and reflected even brighter in the teary water line of your eyes. “Doctor! Doctor? She's awake!” you huffed, out of breath. You guided the man to the room where Riri was lying weak and bruised. Her breathing was labored and sharp; you could see the pain flicker across her face every time she inhaled. “It's okay, Ri,” you assured her, walking over to her bedside and placing a hand on her cheek.
The doctor pulled out his notepad before adjusting his glasses and taking a deep breath to speak. “Glad to see you're awake, Ms. Williams. If you're in a decent enough state, we can start going over what we're dealing with here.”
Riri immediately nodded her head. “I'm good, Doc, what is it?” Her face was blank, almost stoic, as if she only changed expression when her broken bones started to ache through the painkillers. Your heart, on the other hand, was pounding out of your chest. It seemed that you cared more about her condition than Riri did herself.
“Wait-” you interjected. “Don't you think we should wait until she's entirely stable? I mean, she just woke up.”
“It all depends on what the patient or their guardian wants, and since you are neither, you have no say, Ms. Y/n.”
Folding your arms and having a seat in the chair beside the bed, you listened impatiently to everything the doctor had to say.
“We're working with 3 broken ribs. We're also having a procedure to remove all of the glass--we couldn't remove it until you were stable. You also have a bruised wrist and a fractured shin, which will both need casts, and lastly, we need someone to donate two or possibly more pints of blood. Are you aware of anyone who shares your blood type, Ms. Williams?”
You did. You both had an O-positive blood type, and the both of you knew it. Before you could speak, Riri cleared her throat, grunted at the pain it caused, and let out a simple, “Nah.”
You looked at her in bewilderment, expecting a glance back, but she took no acknowledgement to her lie.
“Actually, I do,” you corrected her.
“No, you don't.”
“How are you gonna tell me my blood type, Riri?” you scoffed.
“Y/n.”
You turned to the doctor. “I'm already a donor. Take all the blood you need.”
“Drop it, Y/n,” Riri grunted, speaking firmly through her pain.
“I'm not gonna fucking drop it, Rihanna.”
“You are not drawing blood for me. Okay? Drop it.”
For the first time, you could see the emotion in her eyes. You lowered your head into your hands and rubbed your face, tired of arguing with her. “Why not? You need it.”
“I'll be okay, I'll get somebody else.”
“No! Just let me do this one thing for you. Why won't you let me do this for you?”
“Because there's fifty-billion people who have the same blood type as me! I'll be fine,” she raised her voice. Her fiery eyes were practically burning holes into yours. The flames danced inside of her pupils violently as she spoke to you this way. You hated when Riri raised her voice at you, it was the thing that hurt most about her. She could be the sweetest, but once her tone gets louder than normal, it all fades away.
“Please baby, I don't wanna be selfis-”
“But that's exactly what the fuck you're doing. You're being selfish, Y/n.”
Selfish. Riri's favorite word.
✧⁠ ✧⁠ ✧⁠
“So? It's just a few malfunctions, ain't nothing I can't handle,” Riri scoffed, while motioning for you to strap her into her suit.
“I just don't want you to get hurt.. I really think you should let somebody else handle this, baby, sincerely.”
You inched closer hesitantly and observed the suit, trying to stall to avoid giving her what she wants. “It's literally overheating right here,” you whined, and placed her hand on the hot area. “Just stay home. For me?”
“For you? Those people need me, and you're telling me to leave them in danger for you? That's just fucking selfish, Y/n.”
Your worry faded into sadness and confusion as you dropped her hand and backed away. “I'm selfish for looking out for you?”
“Don't try to twist my wor-”
“No, you're twisting mine! You make stupid ass life or death decisions and expect me to think about the greater good. I don't give a fuck about the greater good, Riri. It was never my dream for you to be this big-time hero that can't make time to actually care about herself and her life. That was your dream. If it were up to me, Ironheart wouldn't even fucking exist. So forgive me for caring about Riri Williams, my girlfriend, and not some robot in a fucking Ironman suit.”
You were out of breath and pacing back and forth in her garage, and she was silent for a few moments. After a long while of thinking, all she had was:
“Ironheart and Riri Williams are the same person. If you can't handle that, I don't know what to tell you. I'm out.”
Your heart sank to your stomach while you watched her struggle to strap herself in before leaving, clanking metal crunching as she powered up to blast off. Maybe you could've uttered a “be safe,” but you both know you're too stubborn for that..
But a “be safe” couldn't change the fate. Now here you were, sitting staring at the waxy shimmering floors of the hospital where she lay. A “be safe” couldn't prevent that crash. And a “be safe” definitely couldn't stop this doctor from nagging you every moment.
“Ms. Y/n? Ms. Y/n? Are you choosing to donate or not? If you're unsure about your blood type we can test you before considering you for the transfer.”
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jasntodds · 4 months ago
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Penance [3]
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Pairing: Jason Todd x Fem!Powered!Reader
Words: 10,943
Chapter Warnings: Swearing, a little bit of angst, some fluff, mentions of death, mentions of injuries, the case jason is working is a reference to red hood: lost days
Summary:❝Thesus: Stop. Give me your hand. I am your friend. Herakles: I fear to stain your clothes with blood. Thesus: Stain them. I don’t care.❞
It’s been a month and a half since Crane’s reign of terror was stopped, leaving Gotham to finally return to normal. But, what is normal? After everything Jason and you have been through, it seems normal might be some unobtainable dream state. But that’s not going to stop either of you from trying and maybe, you’ll get lucky in the end. At the end of it, the two of you have suffered enough, right?
Right?
A/N: I'm so sorry for the late chapter!! I had family from out of town here that I haven't seen in like 15 years lol and then I was sick lol You can add yourself to the tag list below, ask me to be tagged, or you can follow my library blog @jasntoddslibrary  and turn on notifications if you prefer that!! I love feedback, I swear it keeps me posting on a weekly basis 😭
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You head home, the smile not leaving your face. Despite your thing for running, you've been doing better. You got better about it before Jason died. And you're choosing tonight, to not run from it. A part of you thought maybe you would because Jason deserves better. But your heart beats to the sound of his name. And there is nothing you’ll ever be able to do about it. He has ruined you for anyone else and you can’t even be mad because you only ever want him anyway. Even if that means friends. So, instead of running and punishing yourself tonight, you let the smile plaster itself over your face and you let your heart beat wildly while your stomach spins with butterflies.
Molly’s attention is pulled to the door as you lean against it, closing it.
“Hey.” Moly chimes. “How’d it go?” She asks, seeing the lazy smile across your face, gathering hope for her friends.
“Good.” You push off the door before you kick off your shoes. “Tim suspects nothing. I’m sure he will at some point and we’re gonna start tomorrow.” You explain, noticing the laptop open in front of Molly but seeing Goodreads open instead of anything of importance, immediately telling you Molly's been waiting for you.
“Oh, we’re?" Molly beams with a teasing grin. "So you guys talked?” Molly's eyes track you as you walk over to the sink.
“Yes.” You answer and the smile doesn't budge. “We train Tim tomorrow.” You state casually as you grab a small bag of Cheetos from the cabinet beside the sink.
Molly eyes you as you jump onto the counter, sitting to face Molly before opening your bag of Cheetos. You offer no other explanation. No part of Molly should even be surprised because of course, you aren't going to give her any detail unless she asks specific questions.
“You haven’t spoken to him in a month and a half. You’ve been asking about him at least every other day. And that’s it?”
You sway your feet, not quite letting your heels touch the cabinet below you as you shrug. “It’s kind of weird. I don’t know.” You shake your head before eating a Cheeto. “It was really nice to see him though.” Your voice is soft as you divert your eyes to the bag in your hands, a tender smile on your lips.
Molly's chest warms with your response. It's not that you've been miserable or even all too unhappy over the last month. It's just that it's very clear something is missing. It's clear that it's been hard for you and some of that is your own doing to yourself. Tonight, you seem calm, not as on edge as you usually are. Before tonight, it was as if you were just anticipating something horrible to happen at any second but now you're sitting peacefully on the counter, your face clear of any worry lines and your brows aren't tugged together in thought. It's a bit of a relief from where Molly is sitting.
“Are you done punishing yourself?” Molly asks.
You snap your attention back to Molly before you scoff. “What?”
“You’re punishing yourself for what happened." Molly states simply. You won't explain hardly anything about your own blame. Molly isn't sure if it's just the death of Jason or if it's the whole fallout after, maybe both. But, Molly does know you and she knows you've been punishing yourself, regardless on if you'll ever talk about it. "Are you done? Now that you got to talk to him. I told you, he’s doing okay.”
“You always said you’re worried.” You point a Cheeto at Molly, intentionally avoiding the question.
“There will never be a point in time I’m not worried about him. He's Jason. Red Hood, Robin, just Jason. He’s always up to something.” Molly states with a soft laugh.
“Yeah, yeah, he is.” You let out a sigh. “I just…I really didn’t think he wanted to talk.” You shrug your shoulders. “I didn’t want to intrude on his space and ruin something for him, ya know? I mean…he died and he was really getting help and trying to get better, I didn’t wanna call and ruin that for him.” You shake your head as you chew the inside of your cheek.
That is not the full reason but it is the reason you're willing to say. You know if you tell Molly everything, Molly will tell you that it’s ridiculous. She’ll say it’s been forgiven. She’ll tell Jason and Jason will feel guilty, probably. Jason will bring it up so it doesn’t eat you alive. It's not something you want at all right now. So, you stick with half the story.
“I get it.” Molly nods her head. “At least you guys are talking now.” Molly smiles softly. "I could have told you he wanted to talk though if that was all you needed to know."
"Did he say something?" You question almost a little too quickly, making Molly laugh.
"No." Molly shakes her head. "But he always asked about you. He was asking Gar, too." Molly explains simply as she watches your brows furrow. "He wouldn't have if he didn't want to talk. You two have got to learn how to communicate."
"You're talking to Gar?" You ask, bypassing the entire point of Molly's explanation.
"Yeah?" Molly questions easily but she takes a page from your book and offers no other explanation. "Don't change the subject."
You let out a chortle. "Pretty sure all of our problems would be solved if we communicated." You scrunch your nose before finishing off your Cheetos.
"Okay, so we're in agreement. So, tomorrow, you're gonna see him and tell him that you still think about him all the time and this time a part was a huge waste of time?" Molly gives you a cheeky grin.
You nod quickly before flipping her off with the raise of your brows, making Molly just laugh in response. “I’m gonna shower and head to bed though. I will update you when there is something to be updated on with the Jason front.”
“Thank you.” Molly beams with sarcasm.
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Meanwhile, Jason is with Tim. Tim has a lot of questions, that’s for sure. You said he was insistent but Jason had no idea. Tim has been asking questions ever since you left and it’s not even annoying. He just wants to know things about Robin and Batman, being a vigilante, stuff about Jason. Jason finds it a bit funny because it's very reminiscent of his early days as Robin, filled with questions and hope. Tim wants to know about Red Hood but he avoids asking about his death. It’s mostly what he’s doing now and how it all works. He asks about his Robin days. Jason doesn’t talk a lot about them but he tries to offer something that isn’t bitter or sad or discouraging for Tim.
“Think I’ll find Venta?” Tim asks, changing up his line of questioning for a minute.
“Don’t know.” Jason shrugs before he takes a squig of his beer. “If y/n can’t figure it out with you, might not even be in the city.” Jason lies with ease.
“What do I do then?” Tim is desperate for this mission to go smoothly. It's his first time as Robin and he doesn't want to let Dick down.
“Go back to Metropolis.” Jason states.
“Yeah, I guess.” Tim lets out a defeated sigh.
If anyone knows what it's like to not want to disappoint someone like Dick, it's Jason. It's hard and he doesn't fault Dick for this plan. Jason will give it to him, it makes sense, it's a good idea. But, Tim isn't going to find Venta and Jason feels for him.
“Boyfriend, huh?” Jason changes the subject in hopes of taking Tim's mind off of Venta for at least a second.
“Uh, yeah.” Tim nods his head, shifting in his seat. “Bernard.” Tim's heart weighs heavy in his chest.
Jason nods once. “How long has he been in the coma?”
“A while.” Tim says sadly.
Jason watches Tim fiddling with his half-empty water bottle in front of him. All things considered, Jason thinks Tim is handling everything well, at least on the outside. Jason is certain if you were the one in the coma, Dick wouldn't get him to leave under any circumstance. He'd be fighting tooth and nail until you were out of the coma, even if that maybe would not be the smartest or best route.
Usually, Jason is really good at compartmentalizing, partially through training with Bruce and partially due to trauma. But, anytime it ever came to you, it got a little muddied. He could still be Robin, no problem but in a situation like Tim is in, Jason isn't so sure he'd be able to work anything else until he knew you were okay. Tim seems to be able to put his emotions, his anger and care for others, aside for what must be done. Dick still isn't always the best at it.
Jason thinks this might make Tim a better Robin.
“Hey, the Titans will figure out. Always do.” Jason assures him.
"Yeah." Tim lets out a sigh with a soft nod, hoping he's right. “Can I ask you something?”
“You’ve been asking me shit.” Jason quips back.
“How’d you do it?” Tim asks bluntly. “Y/n said she’s been hurt a lot. Doing this. How’d you deal with it?”
Being here is not as easy as Tim is making it seem. The excitement of this is definitely helping but Bernard is still in the back of his head. Every time Gar or Dick or Conner text him, he almost has a panic attack, terrified it'll be bad news about Bernard. He feels like he's not helping and if anyone should be helping his boyfriend, it should absolutely be him. But, Dick is the leader and he can't just go against him. Tim still needs to prove that he can be a good Robin. It's as if he's being torn in two and maybe Jason isn't the best person to ask given everything but Jason is at least very honest.
“Cuts and bruises are different than a coma." Jason states, unsure how else he's supposed to answer.
"You know what I mean, man." Tim almost groans with a plea.
Jason pauses for a few seconds, knowing he doesn't exactly have an answer. The person he should be asking is you because if you can get up and continue this after everything, anyone can. For Jason, it's always been that he has no choice. It's always been about survival, it's still about survival. He can't just sit around and hope for the best. Jason's never been sit around and wait person anyway. Something has to be done. Unfortunately for Tim, that's about all the advice Jason is going to be able to give him.
“Just do it.” Jason answers. “Moping about it isn’t going to help. You get up and do something.”
“I’m here.” Tim states.
“Because Dick needed you to do something. That’s still doing something, right?” Jason raises though he does understand Tim's argument.
“Yeah, but shouldn't I be there to help?” Tim asks. “This is great, ya know? On my own, being Robin! It’s like the coolest thing ever. But, why couldn't this wait?” Tim shakes his head with a soft scoff.
“I’m sure he’s got his reasons.” Jason assures him. "Look, man, Dick's doing what's best for you to be Robin and you know they're trying to figure it out. This is still helping." Jason tries to offer some reason to Tim before he gets to his feet. “Come on. I’ll show you your room.” Jason jerks his head towards the door. “Don’t sweat it, alright? Dick’s got it handled.” Jason states and it’s still a little weird having a little faith in Dick but given all of the events that happened, Dick hasn’t given Jason too hard of a time when they’ve talked.
Jason shows Tim to a room. It’s not much. A TV and a couch, that’s mostly it but it’ll do. Tim won’t be in Gotham long anyway. Jason fetches him a blanket and tells him he has free reign of the place, just don’t break anything and then he’s off to his own room.
He’s switched rooms since the last time you were here. The mattresses is sat up against the north wall but he has an ensuite bathroom. The door to the ensuite is a few feet from the mattress, the head of the mattress and the doorframe on the same wall. Two dressers stand on the wall opposite. He has a turn table and some vinyls. A bookshelf stands tall, loaded with books right next to the bedroom door. It is not much, especially compared to the Manor and the Tower but it’s his. And it’s the things he likes.
Jason heads for the shower, expecting to get it done and over with before trying to get some sleep. But, despite feeling fine all day, something starts feeling wrong. He thought he felt fine, all things considered, but as he tugs his hoodie and shirt over his head, his hands start to shake. They’re practically vibrating right off on his wrists and his heart starts to thunder in his chest. Something in his body feels wrong, like something is going to melt out of his ears. It gets harder to breathe and his head gets dizzy. There's a feeling like maybe his eyesight might start to go next while his hands grip the edge of the sink to stabilize himself. Every muscle in his legs starts to feel numb and weak while the shaking has moved up to his elbows. His arms feel like cinderblocks so he slams his eyes shut and tries to breathe.
He doesn’t know what this is. It doesn’t feel quite like a panic attack. Those always felt explosive. They are loud in comparison. But this? This feels quiet and it feels sharp, deafening. It creeps on him and then hits him in full force when he’s not looking. It always passes but it scares the shit out of him that this might not just be a bad panic attack. What if the Pit is calling him back? He hates the thought but he knows it has to, right? Because being alive doesn’t feel quite right either. Nothing feels quite right anymore.
The feeling starts to pass in a few minutes while Jason looks to the mirror. He hates that white streak. Dick didn’t even get it. Jason gets dunked in the Pit and Jason comes back a monster with a white streak of hair, feeling like he’s going to be ripped back to his own grave in a matter of time. Dick on the other hand seems fine and his hair is fucking normal. What the fuck is even up with that?
There aren’t any bruises decorating his face and he can’t help but think you might have been relieved. You always were. But, you don’t see the y scar staring back at him in the mirror or the red and black bruises over his torso from the other night. He is thankful for that. They hurt. Jason doesn’t waste much more time on it before he gets in the shower. He has to get up early, an appointment with Leslie and all.
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By the time the next day rolls around, you pick up Tim from Jason's, Jason nowhere to be found. All you got was that he had left early and he said he'd be back later. Very Jason not to give out any form of detail. And maybe you're a little disappointed you missed him. But, you don't show it as you and Tim head off to Harbor, Tim hoping to find Venta while you're just playing along. Mostly, you want to see how he interrogates people, see if he's any good at it. Tim has never seemed the violent type but you're thinking him as Robin might surprise you since he's so dedicated to the cause.
So, the two of you go and you spend a few hours doing this. You take a backseat, watching as Tim tries to get answers. You give out pointers whenever he lets someone go because he's not the best at it. He's not bad but you feel like he can do better. He can figure out anything, he just needs to get better at threatening people even though you know these people are in fact innocent so you're not actually inciting violence this time. Innocent people don't need to get hurt just so Tim can learn how to be Robin.
After a few hours, you suggest you head back, clearly you aren't going to find anything out. And you're hungry. Tim reluctantly agrees, mostly because you suggested you visit his parents really quick, grab some food, and head back. So, you do, making casual conversations on the way.
By the time you get back, you find Jason in his own training room, the room you were in last night. He's at the monitors working on something but spins around in a chair once you and Tim walk in, Tim holding a take-out bag.
"Got you food." Tim states, digging in the bag for Jason's.
Jason's eyes dart to you as you take your mask off and offer him a soft smile. "I'm gonna change. Don't touch my food..." Your eyes narrow at Jason. "Jason."
"I don't eat your food." Jason snarks back as he takes the container from Tim.
"The fuck you do." You quip back before you spin on your heels, heading to the bathroom down the hall.
You change quickly, ready to just eat your lunch. You still go to Excellent Gotham a few times a week and you're still not bored of it. Once you're in your street clothes, you head back to the room to find the boys practically scarfing down their food with Jason still sat by the monitors and Tim at the small table.
"Where were you this morning?" You ask as you take a seat beside Tim.
"Busy." Jason answers, mouth full of food. "Something for Babs." Jason lies, keeping it casual.
It's not that he cares if you know he's going to see Leslie again or that he cares much if Tim knows. It's that he doesn't want to get into it. There's still a lot of work to be done and it's his work to be done so he keeps it close to his chest.
"Right." You nod your head, eying him carefully before you open your own take-out container.
"She's got you working something, right?" Jason asks, careful not to make it seem like he's brushing you off entirely.
"Yeah, seems like it's just the one guy running shit but there might be more to it." You explain as you eat.
"So you guys just work with the commissioner?" Tim asks as he looks between the two of them.
You and Jason glance between each other before you both shrug your shoulders.
"Kind of." You answer.
"Basically." Jason answers. "There's some shit the GCPD can't do because of red tape or legal reasons so she sends us."
"We have to make money somehow." Sam says sarcastically.
Tim shakes his head. "Do you ever get used to it? I mean this has been awesome over the past few weeks."
Jason looks down at his food. He would not say someone just gets used to it, not really. There is always some form of excitement that takes over when he puts a suit on and he goes out. There's always some form of excitement facing off with people who can kill him and who want to kill him. That part is slightly different now, he almost feels just the tint of anxiety. Death became a reality and he is not invincible but he goes out. It's still something he genuinely feels good about. It's different and there isn't this huge sense of pride with it anymore but he still likes it. It's not so much that someone just gets used to it.
"Not really." Jason answers softly.
You don't think you'll ever be used to it. It's a routine, sure. That part of the job you're used to but everything else? Not so much. You still absolutely love doing it but it's different than before. It almost felt somewhat of an obligation then, living with the Titans and then Batman and Robin. But now, it's entirely your choice. This is your choice to do this and that is cathartic in a way. You're taking control of your life but that doesn't mean you're used to going out and willingly putting yourself in front of gunfire and a bunch of people who want to kill you. You aren't used to the pain that comes with it. Maybe going out every night to protect people is something someone gets used to but possibly dying for other people with such violence is not. Losing people to this life is not.
"I don't think so." You answer honestly.
The three of you continue your meals, Tim finishing first. He's back on his feet as soon as he's done, rushing to throw away his takeout dish as Jason and you watch him. He's still got the suit on and he doesn't look like he's going to change. Something about it makes you think this is probably how Jason was when he first got the suit. He probably slept in it.
"I'm gonna go back out there." Tim declares to the room.
Jason looks to you and you look to Jason. Are either of you supposed to stop him? He looks pretty determined. Stopping him might seem suspicious. Stopping him might be worse off for his training.
"You think you'll find anything out?" Jason questions.
"I have to. It's my job." Tim states and that's when you know you should let him go alone.
"Call if you need anything. Keep your phone on and I'll have Molly track it in case you get into any trouble like you did last night." You offer a simple smile.
"Right...yeah okay, thanks." Tim gives you a sheepish smile before he darts right out of the room, the bo staff in hand.
"He's gonna get his ass kicked." Jason mutters.
"Definitely." You nod your head.
"Why'd you let him go then?" Jason nearly chortles as he takes another bite.
"Why didn't you stop him?" You chortle right back. Tim is also Jason's job. "He has a job to do and we'll never be able to train him in any of this if he actually thinks he can do it. I get Dick is building confidence or whatever but Tim's detective skills will only get him so far." You state.
"That's why I didn't stop him." Jason laughs with the shake of his head.
The room falls silent as you both continue your food. You text Molly letting her know about Tim and just to keep an ear out in case something hits the fan and you and Jason need to go help him. Tim is only supposed to be asking questions, he should be fine until he gets back so you aren't too worried and neither is Jason.
"Still the Shimmer case?" You ask as you toss your takeout away.
"Uh, yeah and another one." Jason states, turning back to the monitors, pulling up a few missing posters for kids.
"More missing kids?" You question as you take a seat beside him.
"Nope." Jason starts, shaking his head in annoyance. "We know where most of them are which is the problem." Jason huffs.
"Do I even want to know?" You ask cautiously with a grimace.
"They've got them spread out across the city but anytime anyone gets close, they move. I think it's someone in the department running it." Jason explains, glancing to you. "Made a whole fucking business of selling kids."
"Fucking gross." You grimace as you tug your sleeves over your hands. "Are they keeping them in Gotham though?"
"These ones." Jasn pulls up about ten posters as he gestures to the screen. "We haven't gotten a sighting or word about in about two weeks so I don't think so. But the others we've seen here and there or heard something. Babs wants me to be careful, track who I can until I find the one running it. Then let her take it from there." Jason lets out a bitter scoff, still hellbent on fighting Babs tooth and nail over this one.
"Right, but you're Jason Todd who doesn't do that. So what are you actually going to do about it?" You ask with hope Jason will take it into his own hands. Anyone who's willing to just sell kids for who knows what, shouldn't be able to get locked away and then let free to do it all over again in a different city.
"Scare him out into the open and then kill him. Selling fucking kids. No one gets to just go through the fucking justice system that'll let them out to do it all over again. Babs is gonna be pissed but I don't fucking care." Jason huffs, determination written over every line of his face.
"Good, fuck that guy." You scoff and you'd be lying if you didn't want in. "Need any help?" You ask, keeping your eyes on the screen to not seem too eager about offering help.
Jason laughs softly. "I thought you didn't team?" Jason quips, looking back at you with the raise of his brows. It's the same look he always gave you when he just wanted to watch you squirm, the question at hand not even being a real question.
Your heart starts to thunder in your chest again and maybe sitting so close to him was just your subconscious because you swear you didn't do it on purpose. It's the way he grins back at you just as he always did whenever he was trying to fuck with you. Before, before things got all messy and real, he'd scoot closer to you and wiggle his brows. But, he doesn't. He keeps his signature smirk as your eyes are locked on his. You forgot how much you love the color green.
"That wasn't a no and I thought you didn't team anymore." You quip back, leaning your elbow on the table, resting your head on your hand as your brows raise at him.
He'd always team with you if you asked.
"Could make an exception." Jason raises back.
"Aw, just for me?" You scrunch your nose at him.
"Could be fun." Jason teases as his heart erupts into pooling lava.
"Could be." You nod your head, chewing the inside of your cheek. "Loser."
Jason lets out a laugh. "Actually, yeah, I think you can help." Jason cuts it short pulling a mug shot of a woman you helped last week. "Know her right?"
"Yeah, she was one of the women I got out of the ring I'm working. She flipped." You state.
"Rumor has it, she was working with my guy first." Jason explains.
"Right, and he got bored as they do, recruit someone else." You state.
"Think you could talk to her?"Jason asks. "She'll know, at least, who he is, could fucking help."
"She wouldn't give us any names." You shrug before your brows furrow. "You said you guys think he's working for the department?"
"Yeah, why?"
"Well, she bypassed the whole system and clearance Babs set up. She's not in the program either. I checked. Babs said it was some sort of glitch or something but I don't think she believes it." You explain.
"Well, what about her friends? We can try to find her but until then, what about her friends?" Jason asks, knowing someone had to slip at some point. The more people involved, the harder it is to keep secrets. People love telling secrets.
"Yeah, yeah, uh...we have a few we're watching and one in our program. I can try." You offer with a simple nod.
"Thank you." Jason offers a subtle, closed-mouth smile.
"Of course, happy to help." You offer the same smile back.
The room falls silent between you while you watch Jason look over his monitors. He really has the whole setup now. Scans over the city, security system, alerts. It reminds you a little of the Batcave and Titans tower. You and Molly don't have quite the extensive system Jason does but it works for you. You're happy he's got it all laid out though. It makes her feel like he might be being a little safe out there, maybe taking a little extra caution for his life.
Jason glances at you and he wonders how this would be different if so much time hadn't passed, if things were different between you. He wonders if you'd be more of a team, working these missions together. He wonders if you'd be here with him or if you'd still live with Molly. Would you still take up a different part of the city? That actually would make more sense. Three vigilantes spread out can cover more ground but he thinks about it anyway. Would you be training together still? Would you meet up halfway through patrol for a quick snack by his favorite gargoyle or the roof near the wolf enclosure at the zoo? Too much time passed and he really wishes it wouldn't have.
It's for the best, he tells himself over and over to try and convince himself it is. He wants you so bad still that it is killing him but he can't let you down like he did before. That is not fair and he's worried he's not ready. And this is the second time you've spoken in a month and a half. That doesn't seem fair to even spring it on you. But you should know, right? Jason wonders if you should or maybe too much time has passed there, too. Maybe you think his feelings have changed with the lack of contact.
They haven't. They never could.
He just wants you to be happy even if it's not with him.
Jason clears his throat. "How have you been anyways?" Jason answers, trying to ease his own thoughts. "Molly and Gar said you're okay." Jason says softly and he says it on purpose, testing the waters.
Your brows pull together, watching as the corner of his mouth pulls up just slightly. The honesty of him asking your friends is new. "You asking about me, Jay?" The sarcasm isn't as strong as it normally is as if you're genuinely surprised he's being blunt about it but you aren't mad. Molly mentioned it last night but you didn't press, thinking it didn't mean much but with Jason stating it, it has to.
Jason shrugs. "I know you ask about me." Jason quips back grinning back at you, taking a shot in the dark with his assumption. If he's been asking, he's hoping you were, too.
Of course, you do but you want to know how he knows that. And then you remember. Jason Todd knows every single thing about you, inside and out. Even in his worst mental health days, somewhere deep inside his guarded heart, he knows you always loved him. Of course, you've asked about him. You have to. You don't want to live in a world where you don't check on him. It would be a dull and grey world and that's just not one you want to live in.
You suck your teeth, an uncontrollable smile coming to your face. "I always have to check on you." You say quietly, looking to the screens. Jason wants to combust. "I, uh, yeah, I've been okay." You pull in a breath, not letting your words linger in the air for too long. "Living with Molly is different but it's nice." You nod your head quickly. "How are you?"
"Good." Jason answers. "Yeah, it's uh, it's cool being away from Bruce and being able to do my own thing." Jason nods his head.
You tilt your head, narrowing your eyes. "Why are they worried about you then?" You question carefully.
"They're always worried, like you." Jason quips.
"Because you always give us reason to be worried." You widen your eyes at him.
"I don't fucking know, honestly. Think they just are." Jason clears his throat again, desperately wishing people didn't worry so much about him. It makes the guilt heavier. "After everything."
"Yeah, that's, uh, yeah, t-that makes sense." Your face falls as Jason watches the sadness rip itself across your features.
"What about you? They're worried about you, too." Jason nods his head up at you.
You pull in a breath. "Uh...yeah it's just...I don't know." You shake your head. "Same reason maybe and uh, just...being out there." You nod your head, omitting the parts about some nightmares and some reckless tendencies that were not there a few months ago.
"You sure you're alright?" Jason asks as his eyes narrow slightly as if he has some sort of sixth sense always telling when something's going on with you.
There's a single second where you almost bear it all to him. You almost tell him why you picked a fight last night and why you never called. You almost tell him why you patrol more than he does -- according to Molly. There's a part of you that almost wants to tell him because you would have before. But that was before, this is now. It's different now. He doesn't have to carry it for you anymore. It's not fair to him.
You nod. "Yeah, are you sure?" You point a finger to your head.
"Yeah, yeah, uh I've been seeing Leslie." Jason admits despite him wanting to keep it close to his chest. He can always tell when something is picking at you, he considers this an olive branch, an offering of acknowledgment that he's still here. He watches you take a breath, relief almost washing over your face. "It's helping a little." Jason nods his head. "Maybe you and Bruce were right about it." Jason lets out a soft chuckle.
"I'm usually right about most things." You smirk right back at him. "I'm glad you're going and that it's helping." You smile softly at him, genuinely relieved he decided to go back. "You look really good, Jay."
"So do you." Jason whispers softly.
The words "I miss you" choke through Jason's throat, shredding the flesh into pieces. They get stuck and seep into the open wounds, reabsorbing themselves right into his flesh as the blood drowns them from ever coming to the surface. Before, you always told each other you missed each other but something about the words now feel too weighted. There's too much emotion tied to them. There are too many feelings tugged onto every single letter. The words will never be simply platonic again because how can they be?
He misses the way your hand would run through his hair after he's had a nightmare. And the way you'd kiss his head lazily before you'd eventually fall asleep. He misses the way you'd tell him you love him as if it's the only words you'd ever known and how even when they were said lazily and with sleep still in your eyes, they all weighed the same. It always meant the same. He misses being able to tell you everything and being able to expose his worst parts to you without ever being judged. And how your hand fit perfectly in his and the way you'd warm up her hands with her powers before rubbing out the knots in his back. He misses how you'd kiss him and immediately start smiling as if it is the one thing that would make you happy even on your worst day.
He misses the way you were allowed to love each other.
You almost pick up your hand and run it through the white streak of hair just to mess with it. You almost do but catch yourself. Maybe if you were still friends who had talked over the last month, you would have but not now. You don't want to invade his personal space. Jason has always been a bit skittish. You remember some of the first times you stepped into his space, touched him in ways he didn't seem to expect. He'd freeze, his entire body would tense as if you were going to hurt him even if all you did was rest your hand on his cheek. Over time, he'd relax but you remember that and it breaks your heart. You wonder if he'd freeze like that again or if he'd relax eventually.
"So," You pull in a breath. "This is officially your new place?" You ask as you look around the room.
"Yeah," Jason chuckles, his eyes still locked on you. "Did ya want a tour?" Jason offers.
"Yeah, actually that'd be cool." You laugh softly as Jason stands up.
He shakes his head and then offers you his hand on purpose. "Come on." Jason jerks his head.
You look at his hand and then back his eyes. Your hand goes into his as you get up. He drives you crazy and maybe this isn't the cat-and-mouse game you always played but you offer it anyway, for old times' sake.
"Shithead." You mutter once you're to your feet and your hand is back at your side.
Jason laughs this soft laugh that feels the way the first 'I love you' does. "Babe." Jason says back, for old times' sake.
The two of you start the tour. It's not a house. It's an orphanage that closed down years ago. You find it a bit ironic this is one of the places he picked but you keep it quiet. So, Jason leads you around, showing you some of the rooms and explains some of the things he wants to do. He wants one of them to be a library because of course he does. Another room he wants to dedicate solely to a kitchen and another to a training room, weight room, monitor room like the Batcave. There's another one he wants just for a shooting range to keep it all contained. You swear he has it all figured out. And then you get to his bedroom, last on the tour because it was furthest away from where you started.
You nod your head, looking at the bookcase. "Makes sense." You point to it. "I'm glad you don't have to hide it." You nod your head at him with a soft smile, the scrapbook page you made him for his birthday does not go unnoticed on top of the bookshelf.
Jason looks to the floor, stuffing his hands in his pockets. "Yeah, it's nice." Jason looks around with a subtle smile.
"I really like it, Jay." You say honestly. "Do you like it?"
Jason looks around some more feeling a sense of warmth and and pride in his chest. "Yeah, I do." Jason nods. "It's not the manor or anything."
"You always said the manor wasn't the real you anyway. This the real you?" You ask.
Jason pulls in a breath, his eyes still scanning around the room. He isn't sure if it's all him, really. It's hard to tell these days what's really him and what's leftover from his previous life. It's hard to tell if those two things can bleed into one or if the past him died with the crowbar. He likes to think this will be the real him. Better. But, you always knew him better than anyone, sometimes better than he knew himself.
"You tell me." Jason shrugs softly as his eyes land back on you.
"I think so." You give him a tender smile. "Simple, repurposing something left to rot. Making it into something good. I think it's very you. And I do not think it is a coincidence that there are empty rooms." You offer him a cheeky smirk with a soft laugh. "Expecting guests at some point."
Jason chuckles as his cheeks start to burn. "Shut the fuck up." Jason glances to the floor and then back to you before he gestures a hand out. "You planning on needing a place to stay?" Jason quips.
"If you're offering." You quip back and you watch him shift his weight to his right leg before rolling his shoulders.
Jason's heart skips a beat right into his throat. "What? Bored of Molly already?"
"Nah, just fun to fuck wit you, still." You tease him with a toothy grin.
"Right." Jason scoffs but a smile is on his face, maybe his heart sinks a little even if he knew it was a joke to begin with.
The room falls silent and something about this doesn't feel right. It's weird not living together with no thought of ever living together again. You've always been just fine on your own and you love living with Molly but it's always Jason you wish were there when you get home. Missing him has become routine but not in a way you ever get used to. Missing him is just there, all the time. It's exhausting missing him.
"Might have to take up the offer though when I get hurt." You clear your throat, tugging your sleeves down. Jason's brows furrow at you. "Molly fusses over it."
"You planning on getting hurt anytime soon?" Jason asks as concern washes over his face.
"No." You scoff. "I just mean...ya know?" You shrug your shoulders.
Molly isn't squeamish. She never has been, not from what you remember prior to your mom dying. But, you got hurt your first week living with Molly and it really wasn't anything. It was just a long cut, not too deep, won't even scar. But, Molly fussed over it and there was a lot of blood. You aren't too oblivious to know why Molly suddenly fusses over blood. You just can't tell Jason that, it's not fair to him.
"It's Molly, she worries." You brush it off.
Jason nods his head with understanding, sensing there's something more but he chooses not to dig. "You're always welcome to stay." Jason pulls in a soft breath with a subtle smile.
"Thanks, Jay." You give him a small and shy smile.
"Of course." Jason says softly and he decides to leave it there. "Wanna keep waiting for Tim? Check on him?"
"We should. If something happens, Dick will kill us." You laugh softly.
"Yeah, we aren't fighting for once, don't wanna get back there." Jason chuckles as the two of you head back to his current training room.
The two of you take your seats beside each other. You get a text from Molly letting you know everything with Tim seems okay from where she's sitting. So, the two of you wait on the monitors, figuring he'll be fine. Nothing too bad has been going down around Harbor anyway.
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A few hours later, Tim comes back looking quite a bit defeated. He greets the two of you before he heads off to change. Jason and you actually feel bad for him. He has so much hope of getting this done when there isn't anything to get done. You both entirely understand why Dick sent him on a fake mission. It makes perfect sense and in a way, it's teaching him he is not perfect. He won't win all of them and he can ask for help. That's when you both realize that is likely Dck's real point. You both can step it up.
Tim walks back in a few minutes later still looking a little defeated. The case is in one hand and his bo staff is in the other. He puts the case down against the wall and takes a place on the mat in the middle of the room. You let out a soft laugh. Apparently, part of being a vigilante is needing to train in order to work out frustration.
"Follow my lead." Jason whispers to you right before he gets up and heads over to the fridge while Tim is moving his staff through the air and between his hands.
"I asked everybody down on Harbor about this guy, Venta. And nobody's heard of him." Tim states in frustration, watching as Jason grabs a beer from the fridge.
"Must be in deep cover." Jason states, popping the cap from the beer, the cap clanking on the floor. You get up from your seat, moving to lean against the table that sits off to the side but in between the boys. "Or dead." Jason suggests before taking a sip from the bottle. Tim offers a simple glare to him, not liking the answer as he continues with his Bo staff. "You like that thing?" Jason asks, closing some of the distance between the boys. "Can you actually use it?" Jason stops about two feet in front of Tim.
Tim holds the staff over his right shoulder, facing Jason. This is his chance. "Why don't we go a few rounds and I'll show you?" Tim asks, almost seeming confident in his ask.
Jason looks to the floor, eying his beer and then he looks to you, a smirk on his face. Jason knows without a second thought that this is going to be fun for him, not so much for Tim. He raises his brows quickly before taking another sip on his way over to the table to put the beer down.
"You're going to regret asking that." You quip and you'd be lying if you said you didn't admit his confidence, even if unwarranted.
"What?" Tim asks, trying to conceal his sudden concern.
"You'll see." You laugh softly, crossing your arms over your chest.
Jason walks back over, the boys locking eyes on each other the whole time. You can't tell if Tim asked because Jason was Robin and he thinks it'll be fun and cool. Or if he asked for some training and now is regretting it because Jason was Robin and now Red Hood and he knows this will only end in pain.
Jason nods up at Tim. "One round." Jason states.
Tim takes up the challenge, taking a step back as he points the end of the Bo staff as Jason's chest. There's a very small and subtle smile trying to make its way onto Tim's face. Jason gives it a few seconds before smacking the bo staff right out of Tim's hands, sending it to the ground. Tim lets out a breath with a sudden jolt, almost defeat and even a little embarrassment covers his face.
Jason grins more to himself than anything. "Maybe two rounds." Jason states before looking over to you. "You wanna try?"
You push off the table, switching places with Jason while Tim picks up his staff. "Cool?" You ask Tim.
Tim nods a few times, trying to hide his excitement of getting to train with the both of you. "Yeah, we're good."
Tim takes a step back and this time, he holds the staff closer to himself, his grip tighter. His feet are planted better on the ground but you know he doesn't stand a chance. Tim doesn't expect sparring to be mean. But you trained with Jason who would kick someone while they were down just to make sure they're prepared for everything.
The staff is pointed at you and then Tim pulls it to the side quickly, about to use it to smack you with it in order to make the first move to not make the same mistake as last time. But you grab the end of the staff before it can even come close and in a quick and fluid motion, you yank it right from his hands, flipping the staff in your hands and pointing it right at his head.
"Alright." Tim lets out a sigh as you hand the staff back over.
"You need some help." Jason states, walking back over to you and Tim. "You're never gonna get this Venta guy if you can't even last a few seconds between us."
"There hasn't been a lot of time to train." Tim almost groans with the shake of his head.
"Yeah, I heard." You nod your head. "Gar told me. Well, you're here." You shrug your shoulders.
"Been a while since I sparred with anyone." Jason looks between you and Tim, something menacing behind his eyes.
"What'd you say, Tim?" You ask with a taunting grin.
"Wait, really?" Tim asks as his eyes go wide. "You guys will help?"
"Well, I don't want you to get killed." You state.
"Yeah, we're not trying to watch you sign your death certificate while you're here."
"Yeah, yeah, thanks." Tim beams with a large smile.
"I'm gonna change real quick, warm him up." Jason nods at you before he walks to the door.
"You guys are gonna help me?" Tim asks. "This is really cool. Thank you."
"You're a dork." You state, watching Tim chew his cheek. "It was so cool being trained by Robin though." You gush. 
"He's not gonna go easy on me, is he?" Tim asks as he nods his head, realizing who he just signed up to train with.
You let out a cackle. "Fuck no. Jason doesn't go easy on anyone." You let out a laugh as you sit on the floor and start stretching.
Tim joins you and starts stretching. "How is this going to work with your combat thing?" Tim asks.
"I try to ignore it. It's actually a little easier to ignore now, like sparring with people I trust."
"You can ignore it?" Tim's brows furrow at you. "How's that work?"
"Eh, kind of it. It's not really ignoring it as just pretending like it isn't there. It's kind of hard to explain. I just noticed, even back at the Tower, it just wasn't as strong training with everyone. I don't know." You shrug softly.
Jason comes back a few minutes later, going to the back room where there's a jukebox. While Jason gets some music going, you and Tim get to your feet. Tim grabs his bo staff, moving it around again as if he's preparing. You watch over your shoulder at Jason.
He's gained a bit more muscle over the last month and a half. The shirt he's wearing fits him well, cutting just below his waist. The sleeves hug his biceps that you swear are bigger and it's tighter around his chest. Your eyes trail down to his sweatpants. There's no difference there but there was something about Jason in sweatpants that you found to be the most attractive.
Jason turns back around, catching you staring. Heat runs over his cheeks as he smirks back at you. It's cheeky and arrogant, just as it always is. You roll your eyes, turning back around. Jason walks over to you and Tim gets ready.
"Okay, give me what you got." Tim says with confidence, swinging the bo staff around fluidly.
Jason doesn't even let him finish the sentence before he yanks the bo staff from Tim with almost no effort and then smacks Tim on the side of the head, making him fall to the ground. You burst out laughing as Tim looks up at Jason with surprise.
"You rely too much on your toys." Jason states sternly. Tim gets back to his feet, holding his head. "Okay." Jason says calmly and he's starting to feel in his element again. "On three, I'm gonna attack. You ready?" Jason asks.
Tim gets his stance ready, a little wobbly on his feet. "Ready."
"One." Jason says and then immediately goes to smack Tim again but this time Tim blocks his arm only for Jason to kick Tim in the back of the knee, sending him right back to the ground.
"What the fuck." Tim says, quickly getting back on his feet. "You said three!"
"Yeah! The Riddler's not gonna count." Jason strikes right back.
Tim looks to you for help. This is completely different than how he's been training with Conner and Gar. With Gar, they count off and spar, Gar definitely seems to go easy on him with TIm's lack of experience. And to be fair, a lot of the training with Conner is Tim just hitting him with no effect at all. But, Jason really isn't going to play fair. Tim's only hope is that you will.
"No one out there is going to tell you when they're going to attack. You just have to know." You state, not willing to help. "You're a Titan today and we're here but you're gonna be on your own. You're going to be helpless one day. Learn today never to be helpless." You nod your head, taking your turn with him.
The two of you get into your stances. You know you won't be nearly as ruthless as Jason. You only have a few days to get Tim in shape to fight a demon but that doesn't mean you and Jason both have to be completely ruthless the whole time. You'll cut Tim some slack. He can take it anyway. He'll be fine.
You go to take a single step forward, making Tim try to attack and block first. But, you never finish the step. Instead, it only makes Tim come closer to you which makes you grab his arm and spin the two of you around, pinning his arm behind his back. Tim lets out a yell and you let go, going back to your stance.
"Ow." Tim groans at you.
"You're fine. It'll feel better in a minute." You smile back at him. "Come at me."
Tim does as told, trying to land a hit to your head but you block him before he ever gets close and then you kick him in the knee, just hard enough to send him to the ground. You look to Jason. Oh, Tim needs help.
"You told me to come at you." Tim groans. "I thought you were just gonna block."
"Yeah, no." You laughs softly. "Not happening."
"Because the Riddler's not gonna block." Tim almost mocks Jason.
"None of them are going to just block." You correct him. "Your turn, Jay."
Jason takes over again while you grab a Gatorade from the fridge, pulling out one for the boys, too. Jason actually starts teaching now, showing Tim how to properly block and when. He shows him different ways and the best ways. Tim does know some of the blocks, he's just not used to them quite yet which is a relief.
Once Tim seems steady there, you switch with Jason and instead, you block Tim. You show Tim how you do it and how quick it is for you. The thought behind it is that you're not the only one with this. If Tim runs into someone with this power, he needs to know how he's supposed to land a hit. So, that's his job. Watch you, and learn how you block and find a weakness in order to hit. That's what Jason did. Tim only gets somewhat close a few times before Jason and you switch again.
This time, Jason starts teaching Tim how to make contact. Again, Dick has shown Tim some defense which is a help but he hasn't had much time to practice. So, the boys work on that for a few minutes before Jason shows him a few more things. After a few minutes, you switch with Jason. You and Tim go back and forth for a few minutes before Jason decides to up more. You only have a few days to get Tim ready. Now, it's two against one.
"Come on, me against you two?" Tim groans.
You and Jason look between each other and you both shrug as if sharing the same brain.
"No." You both say.
"We're all against each other." Jason answers casually.
"You have to watch what we're both doing not only against each other but when we come for you. No teams. Every man for himself." You state.
The three of you take your positions before Jason gives the go-ahead. The three of you lunge for each other. You hit Jason first, knowing Jason would likely go for Tim first. Is it going a little easy on Tim? Sure. But, you know going all out isn't going to help him, not right now. So, you kick the back of Jason's leg first, giving Tim the opportunity to get one hit to his head. Jason is quick to fight right back, knocking Tim in the face before he turns around, nearly kicking you before you jump out of the way and land a second hit to Tim's chest.
The three of you keep this up for the next half hour. You and Jason try to divide your time between each other and Tim, making sure he's getting plenty of chances to not only try to take you both down but also block the both of you. You're both being careful not to go too hard but make sure you aren't going too easy either. The more you all go, Tim gets tired but he never gives up. About halfway through, Tim gets into his own rhythm, able to block more of you and Jason. He lands a hit to you once while you hit Jason and he hands just a handful of hits to Jason. It builds his confidence anytime he lands anything and blocks one of you.
After a half hour of sparring, the three of you take seats on the floor, bottles of Gatorade right beside all of you as your chests heave. Jason's eyes land on you with your messy hair and the bruise of your eye fading. You have the Gatorade to your lips and he sees the silver chain peaking out from the collar of your t-shirt. There's a bruise on your right bicep, that's more recent but it's not bad. And he watches as you smile and then laugh at Tim as Tim lays back, complaining that he might be dying. There's been something about your smile and your laugh that could make Jason smile even on his worst days. Maybe you are doing better. He really hopes you are. You look so happy.
You get up, Jason unable to peel his eyes away from you. He always loved the way you looked in sweatpants. You have on black joggers that hug your thighs just a little bit and pinch right at your ankles. Your t-shirt is shorter, cutting right at your waist and Jason can't stop staring. He swears you're fucking stunning.
You grab all of you a few of Jason's granola bars and when you turn around, Jason is staring at you. So, you look at the granola bars and then at Jason before you throw one right at his head. It bonks him, causing Tim to burst out into a fit of laughter.
"Something about needing to block or something?" Tim quips, barely finishing his sentence before you and Jason throw a granola bar at him. Tim flails trying to block them unsuccessfully.
You grab a few more before you take your seat back beside Jason, giving him a few granola bars, keeping some for yourself while Tim snacks on the ones the two of you threw at him. It's nice being able to get a little bit of a break. Jason is actually really enjoying this. It feels like old times and he's actually helping. Dick is trusting him to work with you and help make sure Tim is prepared to fight this big bad. That's a big compliment as far as Jason is concerned. And Tim seems to be enjoying himself even if you both are going hard on him. Jason always liked helping train the others and this is throwing him right back but in a good way where he's not bitter about it. He's just glad to help. He feels needed.
And it doesn't hurt that you're here and you're getting along. It feels different than it did before. But, it's really nice. You're both still laughing and you still think the same way. You're still on the same page with everything. It's just nice to be able to spend some time with you and check in on you. Jason has missed you more than words could ever describe and he wonders if you'll be able to keep this going once Tim leaves. He really hopes you can. And he watches you toss another bar at Tim with a smile and he decides, he will try. He'll try to keep this up after Tim leaves.
Just because Tim will leave, doesn't mean you and Jason have to go back to not talking. The not talking was the hard part but now that you are, it feels easy again. It feels like you don't have to give each other space the size of half the damn city. You can do this without having to sacrifice having each other in your lives. Jason decides as he watches you laugh, he's going to keep trying to have you in his life and he hopes you'll have him, too.
The three of them spar for another half hour before Jason teaches Tim more about his staff. Dick was the one who liked the bo staff and Jason wasn't much to rely on it but Bruce made him learn. Jason always thought it was because of Dick but he's realizing it was just preparation to be able to use anything and everything as a weapon just in case. So, you sit back and watch the two of them go back and forth.
Once they're done, Jason sends Tim off to shower first. Jason plops down in the chair beside you as you give him a soft laugh. He's been thinking through this whole training session that maybe you both can step up your game. Tim is going to need to experience based on what Jason has heard about Brother Blood.
"So," Jason clears his throat. "Penguin has a shipment of guns coming in tomorrow night." Jason states.
Your eyes narrow slightly, knowing Jason has an idea of some sort. "Does he?"
Jason nods his head as casually as he can. "Shouldn't be too hard. In and out kind of thing. Grab and leave."
"Uh, huh." You nod, turning to face him with a teasing grin. "Where ya going with this, Jay?"
"Could take Tim." Jason offers, casually before a smirk crosses over his lips as he crosses his arms. His eyes lock on yours. "Wanna?"
"You want us to take Tim on a mission to steal Penguin's guns?" You ask but you think it's a great idea. What better training than an actual mission of some sort?
"Good training. We can watch him and he can watch us. See how it's really done. Especially if he's going to be Robin." Jason offers with ease but he's thinking he really doesn't need to convince you.
A crooked smile creeps on your face. "You know I'd never turn down an opportunity like this." You laugh softly.
"Yeah?" Jason asks, hope in his voice.
"Hell yeah. It'll be fun anyway. I helped you and Bruce with Penguin a couple of times and like once it got a bit dicey. We'll be fine." You beam at him. "I miss fucking with Penguin."
"You would." Jason tilts his head back with a booming laugh and the void in his chest starts to not feel as hollow.
Your smile turns soft and warm with his laugh. You remember back at the tower and how he was treated. There was a lot going on that was bigger than him, bigger than you. But, you think about that and the general disdain everyone had for him at the time and you're watching him laugh now. You always wondered how anyone could feel anything but love for him. How could someone not be completely in love with him? Because you're sitting here feeling just as you always did around him.
You read once that studies suggest it takes three to six months to get over someone, which sounds a little miserable. It has not been even three months but it's been a month and a half and it feels like nothing even wavered in your feelings for him. You're just as in love with him today as you were sitting on the floor of the training room in San Fransisco and maybe that doesn't have to be a bad thing.
"You're having fun, aren't you?" You ask.
Jason grins back over at you. "It's not horrible."
"Uh-huh." You laugh as you shake your head. "Well, you look like you're having a good time." You shrug your shoulders at him as you chew the inside of your cheek. "And thanks to you, Tim will be great."
"Stroking my ego?" Jason quips back. "You get hit in the head too hard?"
"Shut up." You groan as you give him a gentle shove.
"Thank you." Jason laughs softly. "He'll be great because of you, too though, ya know?" Jason questions.
"Awww, now look who's being nice." You tease with the scrunch of your nose.
"I can be nice." Jason smirks right back at you.
"Yeah..." You let out a soft sigh. "You have your moments." You laugh softly as you check your phone. "Hey, uh.." Your brows furrow. "If we were done for the day, I was gonna head out." You pull in a breath, not really wanting to leave quite yet. "There are some people I wanna check up on before patrol tonight." You explain.
"Yeah, of course." Jason feels the disappointment cloud his chest. "I'll, uh, I'll call you if something goes down and text you the time." Jason nods, careful to let his disappointment show.
"Okay." You smile softly, ready to get the rest of the day over with so you can see him tomorrow. "I'll see you tomorrow, Jay."
"See you tomorrow." Jason smiles softly before you leave the room, allowing Jason to himself for the night.
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series masterlist | masterlist | tag list
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Tag List: @fairyofshampoo // @italiana-20 // @jasontoddsmentaldisorders // @purplerose291 // @lovelessamai  //
@makaelaseresin // @lenidaslenchen // @mayfieldss  // @ghostkingblake // @im-done-with-this-im-out //
@velvetskies // @lilylovelyxo // @cryinghotmesss // @yesimwriting // @vivian-555 // @stainedstardom //
@baebeepeach // @legend-o-zelda // @harleycao // @somehow-lovable-trash  // @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx //
@deyja-the-duck // @jasontoddslover //  @captainmarvels-blog // @totallynotkaibiased // @scarlovesyou //
@whydoyoucare866 // @littlemeowmeow1000 // @ginger24880 // @urmomsgayforme5 // @septixtrash //
@kplatzman // @killxz // @lovefks // @laurelthesimp // @strawberryforks //
@mxtokko // @kolpvii // @adorabluesposts // @jasontoddthings // @bbiaa420
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nessietessie · 1 year ago
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RULES: answer all questions, add one question of your own and tag as many people as there are questions.
thanks for the tag, @menkhu!
coke or pepsi: i don't like soda lol
disney or dreamworks: disney i GUESS but like specifically pixar just because as a kid i watched both toy stories and also the incredibles over and over again
coffee or tea: i don't like either. i'll take milk though
books or movies: i guess movies, though i should read more.
windows or mac: unfortunately i'm a mac guy. it's what my family used when i was growing up and it's what i know how to use.
dc or marvel: neither lol. though i guess gun to my head i'd choose dc. i liked shazam.
x-box or playstation: playstation of the two of these, but i'm more of a nintendo guy
dragon age or mass effect: i haven't played either of them, nor do i have any desire to
night owl or early riser: kinda neither? i'm at peak power midday. but i do like to stay up kinda late sometimes. if 11:30 counts as late lol
cards or chess: cards. i'm not smart enough for chess, but i LOVE me some solitaire
chocolate or vanilla: tough choice. kinda depends on how i'm feeling but i do tend to lean vanilla more often
vans or converse: chacos. i love sandals
Lavellan, Trevelyan, Cadash, or Adaar: idk what this is lol
fluff or angst: i don't really have a strong opinion on this one
beach or forest: maybe beach, if only for the novelty of it. landlocked gang rise up!
dogs or cats: dogs! i haven't had many good experiences with cats
clear skies or rain: clear skies these days
cooking or eating out: depends on the mood. oftentimes i'm too lazy to cook lol
spicy food or mild food: i'm kind of a weenie when it comes to spice, so mild. but i'm getting better!
halloween/samhain or solstice/yule/christmas: christmas, just because i have the opportunity to hang out with my fam and not be at work for a little while
would you rather forever be a little too cold or a little too hot: a little too hot
if you could have a superpower, what would it be: like. shapeshifting. or teleportation.
animation or live action: animation for the most part, HOWEVER the live action one piece slaps so. points for that i think.
paragon or renegade: assuming this is one of those games i didn't play. so idk
baths or showers: showers
team cap or team ironman: don't care. i don't like marvel
fantasy or sci-fi: fantasy
do you have three or four favourite quotes, if so what are they: i have no idea at the moment. trying to think of what i frequently quote. a lot of opla these days. one of my faves is luffy's little "mutiny..." in the beginning of episode one lol.
youtube or netflix: well. i'm pretty selective either way. so both and neither i guess.
harry potter or percy jackson: percy jackson, though i only read like. the original five books and half of the first book in heroes of olympus
when do you feel accomplished: uuuuh don't ask me that lol. felt pretty good about getting 100 notes on a drawing i posted a few days back lol
star wars or star trek: don't care really
paperback books or hardcover books: prob hardcover because of my careless ass. harder to ruin a hardcover
to live in a world without literature or without music?: writing and reading are neat and all, but i think i would literally lose my mind if i had to drive the 5 hours to my parents house without music.
who was the last person to make you laugh? probably kat
city or countryside? small city? does that count?
favorite chips? sour cream and onion lays
pants or dresses? shorts, but also pants.
libraries or museums? libraries, because i respect what they do but also museums are really neato
character driven stories or plot driven stories? character driven
bookmarks or folding pages? bookmarks
Dream job? voice actor. i would also love to get paid to play video games, which i guess can happen if you're a letsplayer or a twitch streamer or something
What gives you comfort? recently, watching one piece lmao. also sorry i guess for all the one piece on this blog but it's my house.
what are some of your favorite song lyrics? i don't often listen to songs with lyrics so this is kind of a hard question lol. but how about all of the lyrics in "We Can" which is team Sonic's theme in Sonic Heroes. Love that. lol
favorite video game?
Tagging: lol. uh. anyone who wants to do this? i don't actually interact with people much on here, but if you see this on your dash and would like to take part, i say go for it!
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extravaguk · 4 years ago
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pairing: jungkook x reader
summary: But above all things, the last thing you expected to happen when you came back was to show your tits and get pierced by none other than motherfucking Jeon Jungkook.
Jeon Jungkook. Guk. Gukkie. Jeongukkie.
wordcount: 15k
genre: summer!au, ex high school classmaters, kinda frenemies to lovers, tattoo artist!&piercing artist!jungkook, popular!reader
rated: m (fluff - smut - angst)
warnings: you broke jungkook's heart you bitch!! , oral sex (m&f), protected sex (shocking tbh), CL as your bestie it doesnt get better than that! idk i dont wanna spoil too much
author's note: fucking finally dude!! i've been writing this since february but school was kicking my ass. now that i finished my exams and mercury is in gemini i was able to finish it. if you read this, i hope you enjoy it!
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Inkphoria
You've been standing outside the shop re-reading the word for fifteen minutes, although it definitely feels like it has been longer. You're gripping the flyer too tightly, rumpling the paper in your hand until you're pretty much sure it's ruined. It's the first day of June, and it's already too hot. The sun and humid weather are causing beads of sweat to form in your hairline and your white tank top to stick to your skin. Your jean shorts didn't feel this uncomfortable a few hours ago and you're sure the heat is causing your mascara to transfer to your eyelids and lower lashline. You've never needed a slushie and a smoke this bad in forever, even if you knew the later would make your parents lose their shit.
Inkphoria
You read it again. Your brain is trying to guess what font its written in, an excuse to try to steady your heart beat until your nerves ease a little and you can finally gather the courage to step into the damn shop. You've noticed a few people passing by giving you strange looks because maybe it hasn't been fifteen minutes. Perhaps you've been unmoving like an idiot in the middle of the street for longer than you want to admit.
Chaelin's voice echoes inside your head.
'Its not that much of a big deal. It's not even that painful, trust me.'
You wish you could trust your best friend, but your best friend is also the same woman who assured you Cats was the movie of the year. Yes, not 'Cats: The Musical'. 'Cats', the movie.
'And this could be a great start to get out of your comfort zone and start living your life exactly the way you want to, not the way people expect you to. Not the way your family wants you to, not the way Adam wanted you to.'
But although her credibility could sometimes be questionable - like that time she also told you she'd tried marmite and 'honestly, it's not as bad as people make it out to be'-, you also didn't trust anybody in this world as much as you trusted her. She had always been your entire support system, the only one around you who never sugarcoated, who always treated you as an equal, who was always there for you to help you discover yourself and, at the same time, remind you of who you were.
'And it's gonna look so hot, too.'
That's it. Sticking the wrinkled flyer on your back pocket, your feet finally start moving. It doesn't take longer than three strides and you're pushing open the door.
The first thing you notice is that, thankfully, the shop is empty. The second thing you notice is the bright sky blue walls, a green undertone peaking through. Your eyes scan nervously the interior. Frames with tattoo designs and people modeling other different designs decorate the walls, some skateboards also hanging from the ceiling. A few plants in the corner, and two leather couches on either side of the room. Your scanning stops on the counter, where a girl with short, platinium hair and -what you guess is- the eighty percent of her body inked. Face included. She's been looking at you, a smirk tugging at her lips. Her tone is amused when she speaks
"Hi." she says. "You can come closer, you know? We don't bite."
Great. As if you couldn't feel more out of place, apparently you also couldn't look more out of place.
"Sorry." you gulp as you walk forward. "It's my first time doing anything like this."
She laughs this time, but it's not mean. It's not mocking, thank God, and the smile she sends you is as warm as the weather, friendly, luckily helping you calm down a bit. "A virgin, huh? JK's gonna love this." your eyes jump in surprise, but she's fast to wave her hands in front of you. "Just a joke. So, first time getting a tattoo. You have something in mind, honey?"
"Um, no. Not a tattoo. Not yet, I think." you wet your lips, regretting not reaplying chapstick before stepping inside. "A piercing."
"Oh! Cool!" she claps her hands, too excited for your own taste, pulling from under the counter a catalogue. "So, where will it be? Cartilogue? Nose? A lot of people are getting their septums pierced right now, though, so you might-"
"Nipples. Like, one of them."
Her gaze finds yours in surprise, although her face swiftly transforms again into an amiable expression. "Now, that's badass. Alright!" she skims through the pages of the catalogue until she finds the nipple piercing collection. You scratch your head before wiping your forehead sweat-free. "You can pick either barbells or hoops, although barbells heal faster and they don't move around as much. There's different kinds of metal, too. Gold or platinium. If your skin is sensitive, I recommend titanium. It's hypoallergenic and not as problematic."
The blonde keeps talking as you nod your head, a smile making its way into your face while silently thanking her for her easygoing personality. It quickly makes you feel comfortable and stupid for being so terrified of doing this.
Once you decide, settle on the cost and sign the papers, she stands up from the stool she'd been sitting on. "Ok, I'll go tell my coworker. He's been sketching tattoos all morning, it's time he gets to work!" she laughs, but suddenly your smile banishes and your throat shuts down.
"He?" your alarmed tone halts her motions and she looks back at your frightened expression.
He? A he is going to pierce your nipple? You're about to let a random stranger, a HE, see and touch one of your boobs and then pierce a needle through one of your nipples?
"Oh, baby, don't worry. I'd do it myself if I knew how to, but I only do tattoos. Most of our staff are on summer vacation so it's mostly just him and I. If you don't feel comfortable, which is totally understandable, you can wait until september when Minzy comes back and she can do it for you." It's her turn to scratch the back of her head as she adds: "but trust me, we're professionals. He's not a creep or anything like that. He's been doing this for a long time. He won't cross any boundaries."
September? You won't even be here in september. Fuck.
Sure, you could do it when you move back into the city. But this summer was supossed to be the summer. You already decided after your breakup with Adam that there would be no trace of the old you. That it was time to push yourself, to do the things that you've always wanted to do, unapologetically. To find the new you, the real you. To stop being scared.
So after going through you options for a few seconds and taking a deep breath, you make up your mind.
"It's fine. I can do it."
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"JK, sweetheart!"
Jungkook is finishing drawing a Chinese dragon when Mijoo opens the door without knocking. Again. He puts the pen down, rubbing his eyes. It's monday, a slow monday, not much work, and he had hoped it would stay that way until closing time. It's summer and Jungkook hates summer. He hates the heat, he hates being drenched in sweat, and he hates the fact that he can do nothing about it. Because working in the summer is terrible. Summer makes him lazy, makes him want to bathe in a tub full of iced water and not get out until he turns into a raisin and october comes. It makes him irritable. Summer makes him annoyed by people -like Mijoo, even if he loves her to death- and himself.
"I got a girl here who wants a nipple piercing, her first piercing by the way, so get your shit ready and bla bla bla. Straight titanium barbell. Also, don't flirt and don't be creepy. She almost ran away when I told her a male was going to be touching and piercing her tit, be mindful of that. She's too cute, if you want to get her number you should wait until it's done. I think that's it. I'll bring her in in a minute."
Mijoo leaves as fast as she talks, but Jungkook is already used to it. He's already used to the headaches her mouth causes too. He sighs before standing up, tying his too-long raven hair into the best bun he can manage. He washes his hands, sets the table up, sits on the chair and puts the gloves on. He's too busy sterilizing the jewerly when Mijoo comes back with you.
"Alright, my babies. I'll leave you to it." she turns to you. "He'll explain everything, from how the process will be to how to take care of it after it's done." she leaves before saying bye, closing the door behind her, and then he finally turns to you.
Your eyes meet and suddenly everything stops. He almost drops the sterilizing machine, his whole body tensing, going into panic mode as he recognizes you immediatly. His hands shake.
Of course he does. Of course he recognizes his high school crush. The too goody two shoes, too pretentious and too rich, too good for everybody and, most importantly, 'too good for Jeon Jungkook' girl of his high school dreams. Of course he recognizes the girl he had confessed his stupid crush to when he was sixteen. Of course he recognizes the girl who rejected and broke his young and foolish heart when he was a dumb teenager.
It doesn't matter that six years have passed ever since. He still knows every lock of your hair like the palm of his hand. He still remembers the shape of your lips and the exact shade of your eyes. He can still identify the body he fantasized about -and jacked off to- when he was a hormonal teen, now filled in all the right places. Now a grown woman.
Just one look at you after years and years of pining is enough to almost make him faint. And grow a boner under his jeans.
And by the look on your face, your eyes wide and your mouth agape, you recognize him as well.
Dammit.
He schools his features and clears his throat. Forces his body to relax and compose himself, because he's not a teenager anymore. He's also a grown man, who has matured, who now has much more experience with women than he did back then. He had already embarrased himself enough when he was sixteen to be doing it all over again. You're just another attractive girl in a sea of attractive women.
He turns to you. You still haven't said anything. Neither has he.
"Um, you can sit on the table." he manages, motioning to the set up in front of him. He watches you taking doubtful steps until you're sitting down, your eyes avoiding his gaze. He almost forgot you were here to get pierced. Holy shit, you were here to get pierced. To get your nipple pierced.
You're a professional, Jungkook. You can do this, Jungkook. You've seen boobs before, Jungkook. You've pierced nipples before, Jungkook.
Clearing his throat again and forcing his hands to stay by his side, he speaks. "The... The top." your gaze finds his, like a puppy about to get scolded. You look at your top, realization dawning on you. "You don't have to take it off. You can just pull it down."
So you do, pulling the straps of the white tank top down and dragging the fabric down with trembling fingers. No bra. Jungkook gulps as your breasts comes into vision. As perfect as he had imagined years ago. His cock twitches. Round, full, perky and so damn inviting he has to hold himself back from latching onto one nipple with his mouth around it and swirling his tongue over the nub until you're a pretty, moaning, little mess on his piercing tabl-
He closes his eyes for just a second before reminding himself to act like the 23 year old Jungkook he's tried so hard to become. The confident, assured Jungkook he is.
"Okay, this is how it'll go. First I'll clean it and scrub it to get rid of any bacteria." he's so glad he hasn't stuttered yet. 23 year old Jungkook doesn't stutter like 17 year old Jungkook. He's also glad he can pick the alcohol bottle and the surgical scrub without trembling. When he faces you again, you're watching his motions with your lip caught between your teeth. That has him swallowing the lump in his throat.
Making eye contact with him again, you take a deep breath and offer a small nod, so he gets to work. He can show you and himself he's a grown man. A grown man who can pierce a nipple without appearing like it's the first time he's seen a boob in his life. The sooner he does it, the sooner it's over.
Jungkook wets the paper towel with alcohol before carefully wiping over your nub with it. Your back arches, probably from the cold feeling, he guesses. He rubs it a few times before throwing it in the trash can nearby. He avoids looking at how enticing the soft peak is salluting him when he reaches for the marker. He doesn't say anything when he dots it with it, jaw clenched and his dick painfully stiff.
"Lay back." his voice low as he commands, turning away to get the clamp. When he slides closer, he tries to ignore the view: you, with your hair sprawled and your sweaty, shiny skin and your eyes focused on the cieling, nipple fully erect, like the star of one of his most erotic dreams. He extends his free gloved hand before he can stop himself, fingers carefully working the nub until he's sure it's painfully hard. Almost as hard as he is.
You gasp, your back arching again. He stills and looks at you, your cheeks flushed pink. Probably from the heat, he guesses again. Or at least that's what he tells himself. He can't stop himself from wondering how responsive would you be in a different setting, most likely his bed while his teeth play with your breast and his cock dives into-
"You okay?" he studies your face, your eyes not meeting his and instead still focusing on the white ceiling.
"Mhm." you reply with a small voice.
"Relax, alright? It'll be over soon." his voice is as gentle as he can, his fingers mindlessly caressing your breast to try to soothe your nerves. Or maybe it's just because he's a selfish bastard. Whatever it is, he forces himself to bring the clamp to your nipple, securing it around it.
"Take a few deep breaths. This will only take a second of pain and then it will go away." He misses the way your mouth falls open, but he doesn't miss the way your eyes squeeze tight as the needle goes in.
"Ah!" he definitely doesn't miss that either. He goes rigid for a second, because that didn't fucking sound like a cry of painfulness. It's breathy, and whiny, not too loud and, for fucks sake, if that's how you sound when you're getting fucked, he swears to God-
He feels your heartbeat under his hands when he puts the barbell in and then the bandage over it. He takes a look at you, chest moving up and down. And then you take a look at him and what he sees is almost enough to take you right there.
Reddened cheeks, drops of sweat framing your face and those eyes glazed with something he's seen too much in the women he's fucked throughout his life. They're half lidded, mascara adorning your long lashes and almost smudged, looking right through him.
"Jungkook..." and your voice, as you say his name -acknowledging him for the first time since you stepped into his shop, for the first time since you were sixteen-, it's hoarse, almost inaudible, like you just came all over his-
He's on his feet in an instant like he's been burned. "It may bleed for the first week, and it can be really sore. The swelling will eventually come down." he's quickly tidying up the table, a bottle in his hand that he hands to you without looking directly. "Wash it gently with this soap and warm water once per day. Don't touch it. Wear a comfortable...bra. If it gets crusty, clean it with saline. Not alcohol or any other thing you might clean a wound with. The soap I just gave you or saline. Nothing else."
He's pacing around the room as he takes his gloves off and throws them in the trash bin, too agressively maybe, then he keeps rambling, like he's hurriedly trying to make you leave as soon as possible. "Avoid pools and the sea. It takes about six months to a year to heal, so don't... don't touch it, don't play with it or..." he clears his throat, "don't let anyone else play with it. And if it gets infected, come back immediately and I'll take a look at it." which he honestly hopes it won't happen. When he faces you, your top is back on and you're getting off the table.
"Alright, um...I'll do that." clearing your throat, your hand gripping the doorknob. "Thank you."
But right before you can exit the room, Jungkook says your name.
"_____." when you turn around to face him, it takes a few seconds for him to make eye contact from across the room. "It was good to see you."
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"Let me see!"
It's the first thing Chaelin says when she opens the door to her appartment. It's on the second floor, small enough to compare it to most expensive appartments you'd stayed in throughout your life, but big enough for Chaelin, her cat and her -impressive- collection of acrylic nail kits and pairs of high heels. It's also big enough for her to offer you the only guest room until summer is over so you didn't have to, one, stay at your parents' place, and two, find an appartment in a short period of time for a short period of time.
When you left years ago, you did so with the thought of 'never looking back'. You never really expected to return here, of all places. Maybe visit your best friend for a weekend at most, have dinner with your parents on a saturday and then go back to the new life you'd made for yourself on a sunday.
But that was before you'd caught Adam cheating.
Tale as old as time: childhood sweethearts get engaged, move in together, son of a bitch sleeps with the assistand he told his girlfriend not to worry about, and then the brokenhearted girl packs her bags and leaves the cheating bastard begging for her to come back.
You'd be lying if you said you were surprised.
Throughout your life, you'd learned to expect many things, regardless of being sheltered and babied by your family since you were born. Watched too much Maury and Dr.Phil. Too much Gossip Girl to know what the deal with life really is.
So, thankfully, you'd only shed a few tears, mostly because your ego and self steem were slightly triggered. You'd realize long before that your feelings for Adam started to disappear once he popped the question and you said yes. Your love story began as teenagers but soon after graduating, the two of you went on different paths: you'd matured, grown into your twenties while he got stuck at 17 and never stopped acting as such.
So yeah, whatever, break ups are hard. But they're not as hard when the love is gone and the sole reason to stay with your partner is to please your parents. You were also right when you expected your mom to tell you to 'forgive and forget' because 'those things just happen, it's not a big deal, honey'.
But above all things, the last thing you expected to happen when you came back was to show your tits and get pierced by none other than motherfucking Jeon Jungkook.
Jeon Jungkook. Guk. Gukkie. Jeongukkie.
The lanky nerd with braces, glasses and an anime obsession much bigger than his hentai obsession, which is saying a lot. The shy, awkward classmate who'd stuttered his undying crush for you when you were just kids. That one who you had rudely rejected like the bitch you used to be in high school.
But my God, Jeon Jungkook was anything but a kid now.
You were shocked. You were gagged. Couldn't seem to fathom what was happening and what your eyes were seeing. It took you a while to close your mouth when you realized JK was Guk. Gukkie. Jeongukkie.
With messy black hair, a smoldering gaze free of glasses, piercings adorning both ears, and his right eyebrow,, the braces long gone showing perfectly straight - but still bunny like- teeth. The clothes he wore were loose, all black, but it was impossible not to notice the muscles of his back and arms, covered with tattoos from his hands to his forearms. You'd bet there were more of them underneath the fabric.
It was awkward at first. You didn't know what to do, or what to say. Didn't know if he rememberd you. So you chose to stay quiet while your body chose to react like it had never been in the presence of an attractive young man in it's entire life.
And oh, did it react.
He was reluctant, his old timid demeanor peeking through his newly adopted persona. But as soon as those hands came in contact with your skin, your whole body was lit on fire. Like you were 16 and losing your virginity over again and it was the first time a dude touched your boobs.
There shouldn't have been anything erotic about it -besides the fact that your entire breasts were exposed-, it should've been just a professional procedure. But those gloved fingers touched and pinched and suddenly you were too aware of Jeon Jungkook and the way you were starting to sweat profously, not due to the heat of the season.
You tried to distract yourself by looking at the cieling and not at his gorgeous face. Tried to avoid thinking about Jeon Jungkook and how his mouth would feel wrapped around you. Tried not to think about the way your panties were a second skin to your folds, and how tempted you were to grind your hips until you recieved some sort of friction with the jean fabric of your shorts. You wonder if he noticed you squeezing your thighs together. You hope not.
And then the needle happened. You never thought of yourself as a particularly kinky person. Sex with Adam was boring for the most part and you'd lost your libido for a long time. Stopped thinking about sex altogether. But the pain. The pain mixed with his hand rubbing soothing circles on your breast and his voice, as sweet as honey, guiding you through it. It made you reconsider a lot of things you'd once dismissed as 'weird' or 'deviant'
You swear you almost came right on his table.
And then your eyes connected, you made the mistake of calling his name like a satisfied woman who still needed more, and it was all gone. He stood up like a scared cat, gave you a bunch of explanations about the aftercare that you barely grasped without even looking at you and pretty much rushed you to leave.
So you walked, all the way from the tattoo parlor to Chaelin's appartment, mortified, and completely humilliated.
"Are you gonna let me see or not?" your friend says expectantly as you finally sit down after chugging a glass of iced water. You sigh, placing the glass on the table before carefully pulling down your top. "Oh my God, it looks so cool!" she gasps and you can't help a smile while she studies it in amazement. "Did it hurt?"
"Um, I guess." you keep out the part where you almost orgasmed, obviously, stopping her hand from touching when she reaches towards you. "Wait, no. He said something about not touching it for like six months or a year, I don't remember."
At that, Chaelin's eyebrows quirk up. "He? It was a he? Was he cute, at least?"
"You won't believe this..." looking away for a few seconds, you take a deep breath. "It was Jeon Jungkook."
There's a pause, a silence that fills the room when Chaelin's jaw drops. "Jeon Jungkook...pierced your nipple?"
You close your eyes, bracing yourself for what you're a hundred percent sure is coming.
"Ha..." there it is. "Ha ha..." you still know there's more. "Ha ha ha..."
Chaelin laughs hysterically for about God knows how long, while you keep drinking your glass of water unfaced, your mind drifting back to Guk. Gukkie. Jeongukkie, his tattoos and his stupid gloved hands.
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You know he's here.
Everything was cool, you were doing alright, having a great time with your vodka sprite in hand and your cute white bikini on. Chaelin was by your side, the guys were excited to have you back and thankfully, you'd avoided most questions about Adam and they'd avoided digging too deep into the topic. You'd sunbathed the whole afternoon, kept away from the water like he'd told you and ate the Hawaiian pizza Yoongi insisted on ordering despite Namjoon's and Jimin's complaints.
It's at night, when you're a little tipsy and your cheeks are flushed, that you feel it. You'd barely noticed Taehyung disappearing to let in a new guest.
You don't see him, but you feel him.
You're sitting on the pool tile steps, legs dangling and the water baely reaching your belly to make sure it doesn't touch your very sensitive and newly pierced nipple. Your back is facing the sliding glass doors of Hoseok's house, but the moment you hear his voice, smooth but animated as he converses with Taehyung, your body wakes up immediately, back straightening, goosebumps forming on your arms and nipples tightening against the fabric of your two piece.
You don't turn around, instead opting for downing the remaining of your drink and coming to the realization that, of course, Taehyung, social butterfly who'd always got along with everybody and remained friends with most people from high school, still keeps in touch with Jungkook.
You ignore him when he enters the pool, still peering from the corner of your eyes while pretending to be engaged in Chaelin's and Jihyo's conversation. Your mind sabotages you by taking you to that day a week ago at the tattoo parlor.
To the warmth of his hand, to the few strands of hair that his small ponytail couldn't keep together, to the way his eyes focused on such an intimate part of your body, to the endless ink decorating his skin, to-
Great. Now your bottoms are wet and not due to the water.
You don't miss Chaelin supressing a laugh and her not so subtle elbowing. You glance at her in warning and try to keep calm for the next fifteen minutes until Jin proposes moving to the living room to watch a movie.
"I'm gonna stay here for a little longer, guys." you say, after clearing your throat. You needed some time to gather yourself before being in a confined space with Jungkook.
"Are you sure?" Jin stops by your side to place a hand on your shoulder as everybody starts exiting the pool. "It's Mean Girls! You love Mean Girls! You never miss a minute of Mean Girls!"
Rolling your eyes, you wave him dismissively. "I know every dialogue on Mean Girls like the back of my hand, I think I'll be alright, Jin."
When everybody finally leaves, you take a deep breath, covering your face with your hands in an attempt to get him out of your head. Damn Jeon Jungkook and his irresisitble glow up.
"You okay?"
The unexpected voice startles you, a gasp finding its way out of your mouth and causing you to jump on your seat, heartbeat erratic as you instantly recognize who it belongs to. Your hand grasps your chest as if that would do anything to protect yourself against him.
"Shit, don't do that!" you say, the words almost getting stuck in your throat as you see him approaching you, still submerged in the pool. The more he nears you, the less water depth there is and the more visible his torso comes into view. Wich was exactly what you'd been avoiding.
Because Jeon Jungkook was ripped, as you'd imagined when you first encountered him.
Broad shoulders and strong biceps and chiseled abs and veiny forearms. Drenched hair, a full sleeve of tattoos and water dripping from delicious tan skin and all just so very hard. That paired up with a loopsided smile that does nothing but make you shudder.
"Sorry." he doesn't sound apologetic at all when he says that, the smirk adorning his features telling. "You just seemed a little off." you advert your gaze when he pushes his hair back.
"I'm fine, just...just wanted to be by myself."
"Oh" Jungkook's smile disappears. "I can leave, if you want me t-"
"No!" you're not sure where that comes from and neither does he, judging by the look on his face when your eyes find his. Eyebrows raised and mouth slightly parted, he's as surprised as you and there's an awkward silence for a few seconds. "Um, you don't have to. I mean, it's not my house, you can do whatever you want." you sniff and tame your voice, trying to seem cool and collected like you didn't just practically beg him not to go.
Ironic, considering this was exactly what you had been fearing for the past thirty minutes.
And then he smiles. A knowing smile. A smile that says 'you just totally checked me out and now you don't want me to leave'. A smile that you would have never associated with Jeon Jungkook of all people years ago. A smile that makes you want to look away but still keeps you in place.
"Sure." he says, closing the space between the two of you slowly but still leaving enough distance. "So, how's it going?"
You clear your throat, head high and determined not to let this man, or any man for that matter, turn you into a trembling mess. You're still you and you're not easily shaken by the opposite sex. Or at least that's what you helplessly chant in your head.
"Everything's cool. I'm on summer vacation now," a little white lie, "so I decided to-"
"The piercing." he says, the smile never leaving his face. "I meant how's the piercing."
"The pier- right." you almost miss the step he takes forward, all too aware of his height over yours but thankful for the centimeters that being propped on the stairs added to yours. "It's-" you almost, almost miss his knee touching your knee and him slightly separating your legs with his own inch by inch. Or how your thighs open unvoluntarely to welcome him in and how you can barely find coherent words to speak. "It's doing-" or the way his smile disappears and is instead focusing his dark stare fully onto yours.
"It's doing well." you finally say in a whisper, not being able to bring yourself to be louder.
He hums. "May I see it?" Jungkook wets his lips with the tip of his tongue and the action and his voice is enough to make you nod your head, bewitched.
His movements are unhurried, his hand coming up to tentatively come in contact with the flesh of your clavicle. His fingers skim through your skin upwards, his touch is feather-like when it wraps around your throat. You pant, and he stops but he doesn't move away, his eyes still focused on yours, studying you, daring you to pull back, to tell him to back off. But just a simple touch of his and you're fully under his control. It reminds you too much of the day you got that damn piercing.
Your lips are parted and for a moment he stays just like that. His body so close to yours but not close enough, and his hand slightly gripping your neck. Your pussy clenches around nothing and you can't wrap your head around the fact that something so simple sets your entire being alive and leaves you aching.
Then, as slow as he started, his hand travels from the front of your neck to the back, pushing your hair aside to carefully untie the straps of your bikini. He breathes through his nostrils, doesn't make a sound. He seems so collected it's starting to annoy you.
Instead, your breathing is ragged when the top falls down, exposing both your breasts to him. That's when he removes his eyes from yours and his jaw clenches. Your nipples perk up under his gaze, like they remember him and the effect he had on them just a week ago. You're at least glad you're not the only one affected but he seems to be a master at keeping it under wraps.
Then, his hand moves again, leaving goosebumps on your skin as it goes south. Jungkook takes his time, so deliberate you want to scream, until he's cupping your pierced breast, keeping away from the nipple just like he'd advised you a few days prior. You can't look away from his face, from his eyes observing you like you're a full course meal and he's been starving for days. You feel drops of water falling from his hair to your thighs, his thumb caressing your skin so delicately as it faintly nears your still tender nipple. Just nearing it, never touching it.
"Beautiful." his murmur is almost imperceptible and for a moment you think you've imagined it. Your back arches on its own, breast pushed against the palm of his hand, almost like your body is begging him to come closer, to touch you more, to feel you all over. He meets your eyes briefly, gauging your reaction, before going back to your chest. Suddenly, the grip on your breast tightens, fingers ever so softly squeezing your flesh. From your throat comes a mewl, your eyes shut and your legs close around his waist.
"Jungkook, please..." you whisper when you open your eyes. He looks at you, unvertainty written all over his face, lips bruised as if he had been biting on them too hard, gaze as glassy as yours. And just like that, the spell is broken. He blinks and his expression changes completely. Lips forming a straight line and jaw tight. His hand retracts, fixing your bikini top over your breasts before tying it around your neck like it originally was. Meanwhile your eyebrows crunch in confusion. But when you're about to start asking questions, he clears his throat.
"It's healing okay." he steps back, avoiding your eyes. "I'll see you inside."
Jungkook leaves the pool like nothing happened.
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Jungkook is fiddling, fixing the position of his glasses and combing through his straight hair with shaky hands, habits he's tried so hard to get rid of in his sixteen years of existence but still finds impossible to.
He can't help it. He's always been like this: the quiet and awkward kid in class who sits in the back, a misunderstood puppy in a sea of stronger dog breeds that could eat him alive. An outcast. Too geeky for his own good. Notebokes full of Dragon Ball doodles on the margins of the pages, the shelves in his room stacked with Marvel figurines, and a closet filled with outdated clothes that he has been inheriting from his older brother.
He has never been the type to stand out, always being overlooked by people like he's invisible. He doesn't mind though. He'd much rather be ignored than getting picked on by bullies like he used to in elementary school.
He never gets invited to parties. Ever. He's a nobody who barely speaks, and when he does he either stutters or manages to embarrass himself in one way or another. He's seen the look on people's faces when they look at him. Their eyes seem to scream 'weirdo' everytime he gets acknowledged.
So obviously the only reason he was invited to this particular party had a first and last name: Kim Taehyung. The only kid in Jungkook's entire life who didn't look at him in a funny way, the only kid who took the time to entangle in a random conversation with him after class and who seemed geniune enough to make Jungkook feel comfortable.
He's not sure how it happened, since Taehyung mostly hangs out with the cool kids. But somehow it did, and now Jungkook is uncomfortably standing in a living room full of drunk teens, looking directly at you.
You, the one girl Jungkook had been pining on for God knows how long. You, who are obviously too pretty, too popular, and way out of his league. You, with your plaid skirt and your polo shirt and those legs that never seem to end. You, who are sitting with your friends in a couch, drink in hand and visibly tipsy. And yet, he doesn't think he's ever seen anyone pull of the 'drunk-rosy-cheek' look better than you.
He can hear your laugh through the music and he already thinks it sounds better than whoever is playing in the background.
"Come on, Gukkie! Her friends are leaving and she's all by herself now! It's your chance" Taehyung's obviously drunk too because it took Jungkook a while to decypher his exact words. He'd disappeared for a while and now that he's back, he's pushing Jungkook in your direction.
"This was a mistake, Taehyung." Jungkook shakes his hair and steps back, quickly glancing at the front door to prepare his escape. But his new friend's grip on his hoodie keeps him in place.
"Guk, listen. The only thing you have to do, is walk up to her, and say 'hey I think you're, like, really pretty. Just letting you know. Bye!' That's it. Jung- Dude, Guk, seriously, look at me." Taehyung grabs Jungkook's cheeks, squishing them between his hands and forceing him to face him. "You've been crushing hard on her for years, my man. We're graduating and you won't see each other again. What's the worst thing that can happen? Getting rejected?"
Jungkook's eyebrows draw together. "Um, yeah?"
"Exactly! Getting rejected is not the end of the world, bro! It just means keep trying on other girls!" Taehyung releases his hold on Jungkook's cheeks. "I just think you're going to regret not telling your crush she's your crush. Who knows? Maybe in the future you two will get married."
Jungkook snickers, muttering a 'yeah right' under his breath. Still, he can't help the smile that Taehyung's words always seem to pull out of him.
"Now," Taehyung playfully slaps Jungkook before turning him in your direction again. "Go get 'em, tiger!"
"Okay," Mijoo's voice slices through Jungkook's memories. She's sitting on Jungkook's desk, munching on her brownies and looking at her coworker expectantly. "And then what?"
He sighs, running a hand through his hair, sits back on his chair, already feeling the effects of Mijoo's baked goods. "And then I walked up to her, like a damn fool, stutter and all. And I say:" he clears his throat, making an effort to do his best teenage Gukkie impression."'Hey, _____, um, so, I think you're beautiful and I've had a crush on you since seventh grade, haha, just wanted to let you know.'"
Mijoo rolls her eyes, still chewing. "And then what?"
"And then she looked me up and down, giggled, fucking giggled, Mijoo, and said 'Who are you, again?'" Mijoo gasps and Jungkook closes his eyes, trying to force that recollecion out of his head.
"What a bitch." she can't help but laugh before apologizing. Jungkook merely shrugs his shoulders and takes another bite of his brownie. "She didn't say anything else?"
"She said something along the lines of:" he clears his throat again, this time, doing an impression of you. "'That's sweet and all but, you and I... we're not the same. And I have a boyfriend, so...' She said that like I didn't know, like I wasn't aware of the school's it couple! Like I was dumb!"
Mijoo nods. "And now you want to fuck her even more than you did in high school."
"I- No! Well, yes. Fuck, of course I want to sleep with her! But I just... can't."
"Why not?"
"Did you hear anything about what I just told you or were you too concentrated trying to get high?"
It's Mijoo's turn to roll her eyes. "I heard everything you just told me. I just don't understand what the problem is. You two were sixteen. Sure, she was a bitch about it, but Lord knows I've been a bitch my entire life and now I'm not anymore." Jungkook raises an eyebrow at that. "Okay, sometimes I can be nice. But the point is..." Mijoo finishes her piece of brownie before getting off of Jungkook's desk. "It's been, what? Nine? Ten years? People change, JK. You're the best example of that. You want to fuck her and she obviously wants to fuck you too. You're both adults." she wipes her hands on her shorts. "I think it's time you fulfill that high school fantasy of yours."
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You've made up your mind.
And by you, it means Chaelin has made up your mind.
It didn't take long to convince you though. That last interaction with Jungkook cause too many emotions stirring within you. It left you hot, it left you bothered, it left you confused. Sure, it also left you a little bit embarrassed like the first time, but above everything else, that interaction with Jungkook left you absolutely livid.
Because who the fuck did Jeon Jungkook, formerly known as Guk, Gukkie, Jungukkie, and currently known as JK, think he was to come near you, speed your heart rate's up, and then runaway like that?
You've spent days thinking about it. About that face, about that body, about those hands and- shit. You're doing it again.
You've spent days trying to push those intrusive thoughts. Spent days trying to bury what happened. You've spent days trying to keep quiet, not telling anyone about it and just wishing that stupid spark of desire simply went away.
But it has just been simply unavoidable. You haven't been able to ignore the sleepless nights with your brain drifting back to that night and forbidding your hand from slipping under your panties. Or the excessive amount of time during the day where images of him suddenly popped in your head and wouldn't go away, even with you squeezing your thighs to try to make the ache go away.
So you ended up ranting and ranting and ranting to the only person you could confide on, who is obviously your best friend. Your best friend, who's too smart for her own good and knows you too well for your liking. Because apparently your moodiness and snappy remarks couldn't go unnoticed.
And after explaining the fiasco over a bottle of wine -and minutes of endless laughing on Chaelin's part because, again, it's Gukkie you two were talking about and, according to her, this was "the most karmic thing I've ever seen"-, she gave you the best advice an older sister could ever give.
"Fuck him."
"I know right? Fuck him!"
"No. I mean, fuck him."
And now here you are. Right inside that room you stepped in weeks ago, confronting the man in question with the same confidence that has always distinguished you from others and trying to act like the fluttering inside your belly wasn't nauseauting.
"A date."
"Yes."
"You want to go on a date with me." this wouldn't be so hard if Jungkook didn't look so delectable in a plain white t-shirt and ripped jeans. You cross your arms over your chest, doing your best to not look down at the exposed skin of a man who obviously worked out a lot and apparently, never skipped leg day. "What's the catch?"
He's sitting on his chair, back resting comfortably and legs spread, narrowing his eyes at you and probably wondering why the girl at the front desk let you in without an appointment. Also, probably wondering if there was a catch to all of this.
"There's no catch. I just want to go to the fair this weekend. I'll ask Taehyung for your number and text you the date and the exact place we'll be meeting. Unless..." your quirk one of your eyebrows. "Unless you're already planning on how you'll chicken out this time."
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Of course, Jungkook says yes to going on a date with his high school crush but spends the following days overthinking every single thing.
He can't help but feel like it's kinda sketchy. What if you're planning your vendetta on him? What if you don't even show up and he ends up there looking like a damn idiot? What if you hate him and are just messing up with him? What if that incident in high school is going to repeat itself?
"If she doesn't show up, you simply move on and never speak to her again. It's that simple. She can't have that much power over you to cry about something like that." Mijoo had said that same day she let you in the tattoo parlor after you'd asked to see Jungkook. Jungkook's coworker hadn't even question you and just motioned you to Jungkook's room with a knowing smile on her face. Later that day, Jungkook had scolded her about it and she'd simply shrugged.
He considers cancelling, eyes reading the 'won't be able to make it, sorry (sad face emoji)' over and over again and fingers hovering over the send button so many times he's lost count. But then he remembers that comment of yours about him chickening out and Jungkook starts seeing red.
How couldn't you understand he's just terrified of you rejecting him one more time? Sure, Jungkook is now an adult who doesn't get butthurt over stuff like that. He's experienced too much after graduating from high school and he's a much stronger individual than his fragile self back was back then.
But something about you just makes him feel so... weak.
He still finds it impossible to concieve where he got the courage to approach you like that at Taehyung's pool, or how he brought himself to touch you for longer than a minute without coming in his pants. He'd enjoyed it too much. Allowing him to see you so exposed, just for him. He'd be so tempted to kiss you right there and then, to run his hands up and down your thighs and fully wrap your legs around him to let you known how much you'd affected him. Once you called his name, it was like he'd finally snapped out of it and backed away like he'd been burned by you. He spent the next twenty minutes trying to keep himself from pulling down his pants and jerking off in his friend's bathroom.
It's terrible. Because he feels like the teenager he used to be when you're around. Shy, insecure and overall a mess. You showing up in his life after so many years and now apparenly being interested in him seems like a dream that he's not sure he wants to keep being in or wake up from before it's too late and he falls back into that tumoltuous longing that will inevitably end up in heartbreak. His heartbreak.
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It's saturday night, he's standing by himself in the crowded fair at the spot. You're fifteen minutes late and he's already about to turn back and dip out. He feels too awkward and the nerves are eating him alive.
You're not going to show up. You're not going to show up and now he feels and looks even dumber than the time he told you he was crushing on you. You're not even going to show up and now he's going to come back home, get drunk by himself and curse your name for-
"Hey!" he turns around to the sound of your voice and sees you running towards him. "Sorry I'm late! I couldn't find my phone and spent like thirty minutes looking for it. Turns out, Sharon Stone, was taking a nap on top of it and I didn't even notice."
"Sharon Stone?"
"Chaelin's cat."
To be honest, he's too surprised to process your explanation right away. He might also be a little speechless because that sky blue sundress looks too good on your skin and your eyelashes are so long, framing your beautiful eyes, and your lips are all glossy and kisseable that it takes him a while to find his own voice.
He clears his throat. "It's alright." scratching the back of his head, he momentarely adverts his gaze from you in an attempt to not get distracted by how soft your hair looks and how much he wants to wrap it around his hands in a ponytail. "Um, where do you want to go first?"
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Almost an hour and a half later, when the sun has already disappeared and you're both surrounded by colorful lights, Jungkook decides to buy the both of you hot dogs and a drink and you both settle down on a bench.
You've been walking all over the fair, going from booth to booth, playing any game in sight Jungkook dared you to -he obviously had a competitive streak-: from the ballon and dart games, to the shooting games, to the bumping cars, to the ball-in-basket one. To say you were having fun was an understatement.
You'd almost regretted setting the date up. You were sure he wouldn't even show up and if he did, you were scared of how awkward things could get between the two of you. And if things were awkward, you were sure it would only take less than thirty minutes for the both of you to part ways and never talk again about such failure of a date.
To your surprise, none of that happened.
The conversation was flowing, both of you acting like you were strangers on their first date getting to know each other, which, to be fair, that's exactly what it felt like. There was a slight banter, teasing each other when one of you lost in whatever game you were playing while the other was obviously winning. There were laughs and a funny feeling in your tummy whenever you'd walk side by side and his arm brushed yours.
There was no stiffness on his shoulders, no mention of the past or your previous encounters, no acknowledgement of the blatant sexual tension you'd experienced before, not an ounce of avoidance whenever your eyes met his and he was even sure of himself enough to place a hand on your lower back or briefly interwine your fingers with his to guide you through the mass of people.
It felt like you'd both unspokenly agreed on making each other feel comfortable enough to have a good time.
"I didn't think you were going to show up, to be honest." you suddenly say, taking a sip of your strawberry juice and thankful to finally let your feet rest for a while.
Jungkook looks at you, hot dog mid air and eyebrows almost disappearing into his hairline. "You didn't think I was going to show up? I didn't think you were going to show up." you simply shrug, lowering your gaze seepishly, the beginning of a smile on both your faces. He surprises you by tilting your head in his direction with his forefinger. You watch him watching you, a little dazed, a little lost in how his dark hair messily falls over his forehead and his equally dark eyes study your face, his thumb swiping over your lower lip. "You um... There was ketchup right there." he lies.
"Oh" you say, feeling your face heating up. "Thanks. Red doesn't really match this dress." you manage a smile and tuck a lock of your hair behind your ear.
At that, he eyes your dress for a moment, mouth slightly ajar. He's debating on whether or not to say something but you beat him to it.
"I'm sorry, by the way."
"For being late? I already told you it's fin-"
"No." you shake your head. "For... that time when we were young and I was such a concieted brat." you say, looking away , trying to find anything else that's not his pretty face. "I thought I was a queen bee back then. I was annoying and rude, specially to you. I..." you lick your lips. The cherry glittery gloss was already gone. "I thought it was cute, what you said. There was no reason for me to act like that. I know this doesn't make anything right but..." when you turn to face him again, there's still the same expression on his face. "I'm sorry."
A few seconds go by before it's him who's shaking his head. "It's okay. It was a long time ago, anyway." he smiles at you, although it doesn't reach his eyes and seems sorta forced. You sigh, and he takes your hand. "Let's go to the ferris wheel."
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tell you're tense. You're sitting right beside him in the ferris cabin, your back is all straight, you're facing forward and he believes you haven't blinked for what feels like an eternity. He thinks it has everything to do with your conversation a few minutes ago. You were probably not content with his response but what could Jungkook do? There was really no point in apologizing for something that happened years ago, but at the same time, he didn't want to hold anything against you like a resentful asshole because it was really not who he was. But there was still a little bit of stingyness inside of him and he didn't know how to make it go away.
At the end of the day, here you were, on a date with him that you'd asked for, getting along and asking questions about him and laughing at his jokes and trying to start all over again.
But then the ferris wheel starts moving, and he finally understands why you look so uncomfortable.
It's the way you immediately grip his forearm, nails digging in his skin and he swears he hears the smallest gasp forcing itself out your throat.
"Are you... scared?" he tentatively asks.
You say nothing for a while, not moving an inch. He would laugh if you didn't look so pained about it.
"I don't like small confined spaces nor rollercoasters." you finally say through gritted teeth.
"It's not really that small and ferris wheels are not rollercoasters. " your nails dig deeper and he winces. "Okay, okay. You don't like small confined spaces nor rollercoasters, and that includes ferris wheels. So why didn't you tell me?"
"I don't know. I've never liked ferris wheels but you seemed excited about it, so..."
There's a silence after that in the environment, neither of you exactly sure of what to say or how to act. Until Jungkook moves one of his hands hands until it's resting on the one who's holding onto him for dear life, fingers caressing yours. The warmth of his hand spreads through yours and although it's almost July and you can already feel your sweaty back staining your dress, it's oddly comforting. What's more comforting even, is him twisting his body towards you and talking with the calmest and most soothing tone you've ever heard.
"Look at me." you do instantly, unwillingly, and kinda wish you hadn't. It's almost as if your body will do anything he says without question. Like he has some sort of power over it to just react however he wants. His eyes bore into yours and suddenly the cab doesn't seem so suffocating. "It's just you and me right now. We're not even on a ferris wheel." the corners of his mouth turn slowly upwards. You zone out the environment, suddenly too aware of him and how close he is and how loud the beating of your heart is to your own ears.
"Jungkook."
You swallow the knot in the back of your throat when he removes his hand from yours. It almost makes you protest, - now realizing you've losened the tight grip on his arm- , before it craddles your face, keeping you in place while bringing his body closer.
"You have to stop saying my name like that."
With his thigh touching your thigh, your whole demeanor melts. When he leans closer, and you feel his breath fanning over your lips, your eyes shut closed.
"Tell me I can-" he starts to say.
"Yes." you finish for him. He doesn't doubt on closing the distance between you two. His lips touch yours and your body shakes in excitement. It's just him lightly skimming your lips with his but it's already too much and at the same time, not enough. It has you deepening it, yourself moving closer when he kisses you again. It has you relaxing against him, the tenseness prior disappearing and making you arch your back when his tongue asks for permission.
But it's exactly then, the moment you open your lips to him, that has you losing your mind.
The sparks fly, traveling from your head to your toes and then settling on the pit of your stomach as soon as the kiss starts to turn desperate and rough. When he nibbles your lips with his teeth, it makes you mewl and whine and your nipples tight against the cotton of your dress. It makes the metal barbell to feel uncomfortable, slightly painful. And when he goes back to being messy and filthy with his tongue tangled with yours, your thighs close on their own.
He forces himself to pull his hand back and bring it down, finding the parting of yd opening them for him. "Wait," you say, your fingers wrapping around his forearm as you try to catch your breath."The ferris-" he shuts you up with another kiss.
"We're not on a ferris wheel." he reminds you, a soft whisper against your mouth. And for whatever reason, you believe him.
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"He fingered you on the ferris wheel."
"Yes."
"And you came before the ride was over."
You take a small sip of wine, your eyes focusing on the TV where a rerun of the Golden Girls is playing, although, to be fair, lately you haven't been able to pay much attention to anything else but a certain brunet with doe eyes and kisseable lips. "Yes."
She hums, stealing a handful of popcorn from the bowl between your thighs.
"How long did it took? Like five minutes?"
There's a pause in which you clench your jaw, your fingers twitching around the glass in your hand, and then you answer. "Probably less."
There's another pause, and then-
"Ha...Ha ha...Ha ha ha-"
You let her laugh. It's okay. You knew you had it coming.
Chaelin knows the pillow you throw right at her face is also something she had coming.
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It's not that you're mad.
Jungkook and you had a great time on that fair date, he made you laugh, bought hot dogs and drinks for the two of you and got you off inside the cab of a ferris wheel on record time with those magical, long fingers of his. Technically, there shouldn't be anything to be angry about.
Except it's been a week and you can't stop thinking about him, about wanting more, and about those words that he left you with after the ferris wheel ride ended, when you had tried to return the favor.
'Next time, maybe.'
And there hasn't been a next time.
The thought of texting him or giving him a call to ask for another date is persistent in your mind. It remains while you do the laundry or wash the dishes, while you shower, while you eat or while you spend your days at the beach with Chaelin. There's always the incessant desire to reach out towards your phone, unlock it and dial his number to beg for more.
But you'd never been one to beg, so you resist the urge everytime that feeling starts to creep up on you and it washes over you like a wave. You silence your phone and try to concentrate on making the most out of your summer.
It's one random night, when you're tiredly dragging your feet across Chaelin's apartment's carpet, yawning and ready to succumb to a well needed slumber, that you see your phone screen's lighting up with a message.
Your heart pathetically leaps inside your chest when you read his name.
'you free on saturday?'
You wish you could say you ghosted him, ignored his text and moved on with your life until it was him who begged you for another date. But the truth is you opened it in a matter of seconds and typed 'i'm free, why?' back in a rush with trembling fingers.
So now you're on the passanger seat of his car while he sits on the driver seat, the first saturday night of July, like he's Danny Zuko and you're Sandy Olsson, watching a vintage movie in a drive-in theater which plot you don't give a shit about, even if Jungkook's date plan idea made something inside of you churn with adoration.
And the only reason why you don't give a single damn about the movie playing in front of your eyes, is because you're hot. Way too hot. And the reason and cause is none other than the boy-now-turned-man sitting on your left.
You barely exchanged words when he picked you up, just rode in silence until you got to your destination and you bet he can feel as well as you do the tension in the air.
You've surveyed him a few times from the corner of his eye, noticing him fiddling with the rings around his fingers and shifting in his seat from time to time. And if the sight of his fingers bring memories that you've tried to bury to keep yourself from lunching towards him, a brief glance at his forearms, adorned with ink drawn through his golden flesh -doing a poor job at concieling the veins running underneath- and his skin-tight jeans wrapping those muscled thighs of his is enough to have you be the one squirming in your seat.
A woman can only endure so much, and you come to that realization thirty minutes into the movie.
"I want to suck your cock." you say, a stern expression on your face as you turn your body in his direction.
Jungkook frozes as your voice slides over him. It takes him a couple seconds to look at you, shock widening his eyes and parting his lips.
"Huh?" he manages, his grip on the steering wheel turning his knuckles white.
Without separating your gaze from his, you gather your hair and tie it in a ponytail with the hair tie previously around your wrist. You don't miss the quick glance he sneaks into the curvature of your neck and the valley between your breasts.
Inching forward, closing in on him, you place one of your hands on top of his thigh, the action making his whole body tense. "____..." he whispers your name in a warning that doesn't sound convincing even in his own ears.
You smile, your eyes never wavering from his as your hand inches upwards, slowly caressing over the fabric of his jeans until you finally come across what you were looking for.
His hand flies to your wrist, stilling your movements. "____, this is not-". He starts, but his voice gets stuck inside his throat when you palm his undoubtly growing erection.
"Shh." your shaky breath fans over his cheek and you force yourself on your knees on the passanger seat in a more comortable possition to stop the trembling to reach them.
You fumble with the belt holding his pants in place, then with the button and finally with the zipper. He helps you by lifting his hips to pull his jeans and boxers to his thighs and you have to bite back a mixture between a gasp and a moan at the sight below you. You haven't even seen Jeon Jungkook naked all the way, but the mere sight of his hard cock with pre-cum glistening on his crown is probably the sexiest thing you've ever had the pleasure of appreciating.
It gets sexier when you wrap your hand around the base and his body melts in the driver seat, throwing his head back with his eyes shut. It gets even sexier when you finally lower your head, swirling your tongue over the head before finally engulfing him fully in the wet warmth of your mouth.
"Shit." his voice is tight, uneven as his hand loosely grips your ponytail, as if careful not to accidentally hurt you and break the glorious moment.
Although you wouldn't mind at all. Because the moment your hands are on him, and your tongue is on his shaft, that's the only thing you care about. Your belly is twisting, an undeniable wet spot on your panties as the fabric sticks to your folds, and the more you suck Jungkook, the more you want from him. His earthy taste is addicting and the soft little whimpers he occasionally can't prevent himself from are making you want to milk him until he can't take it no more. There's this desire within you to whorship him and his cock like you had been dreaming for the past weeks.
"This is s-so fucking h-hot." he rasps between ragged breaths, the bobbing of your head, sliding up and down his dick as your hand works the centimeters your mouth can't take is about to make him faint.
"Getting a blowjob?" you joke, your throat starting to feel sore as you kiss his leaking tip.
"N-no." he draws in a rough breath when you take him all of him again. "You giving me a blowjob... T-the f-fact that anyone c-could see us..." he darts a quick glance at your body, your ass up in the air and your dress sliding down, almost exposing you completely. "The fact that-ah! Shit..." he squeezes his eyes when he feels a glob of your spit lubricating him.
There's a sudden need to make you feel the same, to touch your skin and have you shaking the same way you have him. So one of his hands travels from your spine, to your perked ass, finally dragging the cotton of your dress to allow himself to see your thin white panties. "The fact that anyone could see you l-like this," he murmurs, regaining a little bit of control when he squeezes one of your cheeks. "letting t-them see you s-sucking my cock and..." he smirks when he feels you gasping around him, his fingers trapped between your thighs and pushing them inside your heat easily "and letting them see me fingering this pretty little pussy."
Soon after that he's cumming in your mouth while you're cumming around his fingers.
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At first, it's mostly on weekends when you see each other. Weekends of stolen kisses and soft sighs and whispering against each other's lips. Then weekends turn to week days, sitting on grass while sipping on refreshing beverages, drawing each other laughs, elbows touching as you walk around the park side by side because the both of you are too scared to interwine your fingers together.
Jungkook feels content like this: sitting on the sand with you between his thighs, admiring the sunset while nuzzing your neck and inhaling your scent every now. He likes waching you enoying your strawberry ice cream, almost forgetting the chocolate chip one already melting in his hand.
"If you were an ice cream flavor,which one would you be?" you ask him, relaxing against his chest.
"Rocky road."
"Why?"
He shrugs behind you. "Everyone likes rocky road."
You hum, playfully rolling your eyes. "What about me? Which ice cream flavor would I be?"
"Lemon sherbet, in the summer."
"Lemon sherbet? Out of all of the flavours out there, you're rocky road and I'm lemon sherbet?"
"Lemon sherbet, in the summer." he corrects.
"Okay, fine. Why?"
"You're boring and basic."
You gasp, trying to feign outrage but not being able to repress the laugh that escapes your throat. You elbow him, his laugh mixing with yours while taking the time to wrap his arms around your form, the breeze blowing your hair allowing him a spot between your neck and your shoulder. "You're boring and basic, but once you have a taste..." he presses a small kiss on your skin, causing the tiny hairs on the nape of your neck to rise. "Once you have a taste, specially on the hottest day in the middle of summer, you can't stop tasting and licking until there's no more lemon sherbet left."
You suck in on a breath when he craddles your jaw to face him. "It's been my favourite flavor since I was a kid." he kisses you immediately after, his lips swallowing the small whimper now stuck in your throat.
You close your eyes as his tongue opens your mouth, arousal blasting your insides and something much, much deeper that you fear to even name shredding your chest.
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The beginning of august comes faster then you two realize, but what you both do realize is how hard it's becoming to stay away from each other.
It's been thirty days of dates happening almost everyday, sharing high school memories and anecdotes of the time you spent away from each other. Hours of getting to know each other and opening up to each other. From failed relationships to new friendships. Of park dates walking side by side and fingers now interwined because you both realized one day that, fuck it.
It's difficult to sleep when you realize you're starting to catch serious feelings for somebody who was just supposed to be a fling. It's hard to sleep when his face, his voice and his touch and thoughts of missing him when you don't see each other start haunting you at night.
It's hard for Jungkook to focus on work when you're everything that's occupying his mind. Because he has a hundred sketches to make but he's too busy thinking about the hundred different sketches he would make of you.
It's hard not to send him a goodnight text, just like it's hard for him not to reply in a matter of seconds, almost as if he was already waiting to recieve it.
Jungkook thinks of you at night. Of how pretty and absolutely perfect you are for him. Of the taste of your lips, the way your hair feels between his fingers, or the flush on your cheeks when he makes you cum as droplets of sweat accumulate between your breasts. He thinks about your voice. He also thinks about the amount of hours left to be able to listen to it again.
But mostly he thinks about how ridiculous this situation is. Because he was stupidly crushing on you when you were only teenagers, daydreaming about a chance with you. And now his crush is long gone and he's starting to realize that he's falling, and falling fast.
You, too, think of Jungkook at night. Of his ability to bring a smile out of you, to soothe you with just a few words and filling your belly excitement, happiness and feelings you're sure you've never felt before.
Jungkook's managed to imprint himself in your dreams, and you, in his.
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Getting drunk with Jungkook is fun and messy.
It's fun because he lets loose, he stutters a lot like he used to do when he was a teenager and he makes you laugh louder than ever before. It's messy because he has no control over his hands as they explore your body, clumsily taking your clothes off as his mouth laps at the breast he's allowed to touch.
He's more forceful and dominating too, pinning your hands above your head, and commanding you to keep them right there, on the pillows of his bed. When you rebel against it, your fingers finding the hard planes of his chest, he pulls away from you and places them back where he left them. "Don't make me tie you up." he threatens, and your body shudders beneath him.
He sucks, and bites and leaves marks all over your skin, grunting in response to your moans. Creating a path of kisses from your lips to your stomach, his shoulders separating your knees, opening you up only for him. And thankfully, when you reach down to tug at the strands of hair framing his face, he lets you, because he knows you need something to hold on to the moment his tongue eats you up. He leaves his fingertrips on your thighs as he keeps you in place, not allowing you to runaway. Just forcing you to take it as he takes from you.
And when you cum, he doesn't back away. He keeps sucking, and licking and punishing you with his mouth until you're cumming over and ove again, screaming and begging for his cock.
Having Jungkook over you, both completely naked, skin to skin and only sweat in between is more than you could've ever fantazised about. He slurls your name when he puts the condom on. He would do anything to feel you raw, but he also knows he wouldn't be able to last a minute. The sight of you spread open, with your cheeks darkened by a crimson blush and your hair tangled all over his pillow is a picture he wants to keep forever.
He enters you when you call his name, your voice dripping with need. He stretches your warm and wet felsh, slowly easing himself into you at first, until he's fully inside and your bodies are completely in union. A shiver runs down Jungkook's spine when he looks at your contorted face in pleasure, your lips forming an 'O' and your pussy clenching around him.
"Oh, my God." you moan into the dark of Jungkook's room, and even then, he can clearly appreciate every curve of your body lifting off the mattress to connect with his. He lowers himself on his elbows on either side of your head, caging you in and capturing your mouth with his.
"I know, baby." he murmurs. It's hot, in the middle of August but suddenly Jungkook doesn't hate summer as much as he used to. Not with you sharing the heat with him. "It's way beyond what I could ever imagine." You nod hurriedly against his lips, your arms finding their way around his neck as he starts rocking in and out of you.
"It's too good." you cry, when he hits a particular spot that has you rolling your eyes in bliss and gripping his waist tighter with your legs against you. Your fingers thread through his hair, not bothered by the beads of sweat gathered on the nape of his neck.
"Too good..." he agrees, not missing the shiver that's shaking your own frame when he picks up his speed. "You have no idea what I would do t-to fucking feel you with n-no barriers between us," his movements become frantic as his hips slap against yours, his jaw clenched as he keeps talking, "to s-stuff you full of my c-cum over and over again until it won't stop d-dripping."
Jungkook's voice against your ear has you trembling and your orgasm nearing closer, your nails scratching down his back as his thrusts overpower your form. "Would you like that?" he asks with his voice strangled.
"Y-yes. Anything y-you want."
"You'd take all of my cum like a good cum-slut?"
You hate the fact that that's what makes you come undone. The twisting and knotting in the pit of your stomach finally snapping until you're holding on to him like you never want to let him go and he's following soon after.
Because if Guk, Gukkie, Jengukkie was not only able to make you come in less than a few minutes with his fingers or his tongue, but he was also able to make you cum instantly just by calling you a good cum-slut, that means you're fucked. Like, really, really fucked.
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There's a knot in Jungkook's stomach and a suffocating grip around his vocal chords as he caresses your skin. The sun is rising in the distance with the first rays of light entering his room through the window. Your shamphoo is intoxicating him, numbing him and enticing him to bury his nose in the tangled curls pressing against his chest. Your arm is thrown across his stomach, your breathing leavig goosebumps all over his body.
"It's too early. Go back to sleep." you mumble against his heart. He wonders if you can feel it dangerously speeding up.
"I can't." he says, voice struggling to stay balanced. "I have to tell you something."
You hum in response, sleep still interwined with your body, your arm tightening around him. You sigh in content, expecting him to elaborate.
He wets his suddenly dry lips. "I don't want this to end. In fact, ____.... I want more. Need more."
"Jungkook..." your whole body goes rigid right away, untanglling your bodies from each other and sitting up on the mattress.
"No, listen to me." he mimicks your movements, rapidly grabbing your hands to make you look at him. His eyes are expressive, a mixture of fear and hope swirling in his dark irises. "I wake up everyday, and you're the first thing I think of. I go on about my day, and I keep thinking about you, wondering what you're doing and counting down the hours until I get to see you again. I spend every night dreaming about you, and when we'e together, the only thing I can think about is how I wish I could stop time so I don't have to say bye to you the next morning. ____, I-"
"Jungkook, stop please." you shake your head, pushing away from him and in desperate need of air. You press a hand against your chest, beating back the throb of pain while the other curls in a tight fist, the feeling of your fingernails digging into your palm less painful than the ache inside your heart. "This... This wasn't supossed to happen, Jungkook." you start pacing around the room, as if trying to find an exit while avoiding his gaze. "This was just a summer fling. That's all it was, I'm supposed to come back to the city in two weeks and-"
"A summer fling?" a sardonic sneer comes out of him. "Oh my God, I can't believe this is happening again..." he mumbles to himself before rising from the bed. You stop immediately, a shiver quaking through you as his impressive frame intimidates His eyebrows are drawn together and his dark eyes are void of any prior emotion. "You're going back to the city in two weeks? And you didn't care to tell me until now, after I just spilled my guts to you?"
You eyes fill up with uncomfortable tears, reaching one arm towards him. "Jung-"
He flinches, taking one step back. "A summer fling is all I mean to you?"
"Ju- "
"Look me in the eyes, right now, and tell me that's all I mean to you. A summer fling." panic crawls up your throat. There's the need within you to confirm, to stare into his beautiful and stern eyes and tell him that, yes, that's all he is to you. But you've never been a good liar. So nothing comes out. You opt for wrapping your ams around yourself wishing they were his and lowering your eyes to the ground. "I think... I think you should leave."
Those are the last words he says to you, and the last thing you see when you turn around one more time after gathering your clothes, is his back as he looks out the window.
You allow yourself to cry the exact moment you step into Chaelin's apartment. Your friend is sitting on the couch, bowl of cereal in hand and a fresh cup of coffee sitting on the livingroom's table.
"Hey, you're early tod- Baby, what's wrong?"
"Please, don't laugh."
That morning, you lay down for hours on the couch with your head on Chaelin's lap while she softly brushes your hair as you cry, hiccup, fight through the pain in your heart and relate to her as best as you can the latest events.
She doesn't laugh at all.
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"She'll come back." Mijoo's slurred words do nothing to put Jungkook's state at ease that night. He simply shrugs, fingers clenching at his sides, frowing into his drink before gulping down the bitter taste of vodka in one shot. "Seriously, I think she's just afraid. My ex was the same."
"Comparing her to your ex is not the analogy you think it is."
"Ugh, shut up. Things didn't work with my ex because she was a bitch." Jungkook gives Mijoo a pointed look which she responds to by rolling her eyes and sipping on her rum coke. "Your girl is not a bitch. She used to be a bitch. What she did this morning was bitchy, but, like I said, she's just being a pussy. If she only wanted sex with you, she wouldn't have been doing couple stuff with you the entire summer."
"Whatever. I don't care." he lies and Mijoo knows he's lying but decides to drop the subject fo now.
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"We can't keep spending our days smoking weed." Chaelin speaks over Blanche's voice on the TV.
"I know. I'm just sad."
"You have to come back and tell him how you feel."
"I know."
There's a beat of silence before your friend kicks your thigh with her feet.
"I know and I will." you mumble through red eyes and smoke clouds.
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It's September first and it doesn't feel like Jungkook's birthday at all. He's been trying to focus on his work, alternating between isolating in full hermit mode and hanging out with friends to drink away his sorrow. The days have gone by and before he could realize it, he woke up today with over twenty text messages wishing him a happy day and a throbbing hangover.
He dresses up on autopilot. First a cotton shirt, then a pair of jeans and lastly, his Nike's. He doesn't bother tying his sneakers just like he doesn't bother taking a shower. He smokes a cigarette for breakfast, the death stick making him feel nauseaus on an empty stomach. And then he goes to work.
He's been repeating the same routing for the past weeks and he's not thinking of changing it, not even on his bithday.
He spends hours drawing, tattooing and drawing some more between yawns. He ignores texts an phone calls and simply waits until the day is over to go home, go to bed and forget about the fact that you're probably on your way to the city and that he hasn't crossed your mind not even once.
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Inkphoria.
You've been standing outside the shop re-reading the word for fifteen minutes, although it definitely feels like it has been longer. You're gripping cup of ice cream as it melts down your fingers the more you wait. The shop is already empty and it's starting to darken out side, and still you're so hot. Your shorts are heavy and your tank top is sticking to your skin. You didn't even bother to put on any make, although your eyebags definitely needed some concieling and your lashes some dimension to hide the fact that you'd been crying for the last few days.
'You're crazy about him.'
Chaelin's voice echoes inside your head.
You've lost count of how many times your best friend has given your advice, or simply encouraged you to do something you've been too scared to try.
'And he's cazy about you too.'
Chaelin might be wrong about marmite and the movie Cats, but she's definitely now wrong about anything regarding your and Jungkook.
That's it. You briefly close your eyes, inhale a deep breath then release it slowly. You start walking. It doesn't take longer than three strides and you're pushing the door open.
The tattoed blonde looks up from the counter the second you come into view. She smiles at the distance between you two. "You can come closer. I won't bite."
You clear your throat, stalking closer to her. "Is he-"
"He's in the back." she replies before you can finish you question. You close your mouth, clear your throat and nod your head.
"Thanks, Mijoo." she gives you a small wink, her smile easing your nerves like she had three months ago.
She watches you disappear. She shakes he head, her smile meeting her eyes. "I told him so."
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Jungkook ignores the knock on his door at first. It's almost ten and the parlor is about to close. He just has to finish this last fucking sketch so he can grab his shit and go the fuck ho-
Knock knock.
He growls, exhasperation cursing through him. He runs a hand through his messy pile of hair, his rings tangling between the strands, making him wince in pain. "Come in." he grunts under his breath. The door opens. "Mijoo, I really have to finish-"
He stops dead in his tracks as soon as he sees you.
"Hey." you say after a moment of hesitation.
"Hey." he replies and although there's something inside, deep in his chest, shouting at him to stand up, run up to you and kiss your face while he tells you how beautiful you look right now and how happy he is to see that you're still here, he decides against it. "Listen, ____, I'm pretty busy-"
"No, you listen to me." you cut him off abruptly. He looks taken aback and is already opening his mouth to say something, but you're not having it. "Please, just... Let me talk."
Silence looms between the two of you for a while, a staring contest defying each other to back down. When you take one step inside and close the door behind you, he sighs and leans back against his chair.
You move towards him slowly, your lip caught between your lip going through your mind for the speech you'd been preparing the last few days. Your hands are sticky due to the the sugary treat liquifying in your hand. "I know there's no reason you should give me another chance after rejecting you in high school, and there's definitely no reason why you should forgive me for the way I shut you out a few weeks ago. You've been confessing your feelings to me since we were teenagers, and now it's my turn to tell you exactly how I feel about you."
"Jungkook, the truth is... I like you so much. I like you more than I've ever liked anyone. Ever. I said this was just a summer fling, and I was lying. I was lying because there's no way a simple summer fling could make me feel the way you do. There's no way a simple summer fling could make me want not just summer with you, but also fall and winter, and spring and every summer that comes next."
You hadn't realize when your eyes filling up with tears until the sight of him starts blurrying in front of you. His fingers reach yours, his thumb comforting on your skin. "____, it's okay-"
"I'm not done yet." you sniffle, gathering enough courage to continue. "I brought you a lemon sherbet because you said it was your favourite. But you also implied I was your favourite, and I want to keep being you favourite, but now it's already melted and-"
The corners of Jungkook's lips start pulling upward as he tugs you towards him, his heart loudly jumping inside his chest. "Shhh, come here."
He takes the ice cream from your hand and places it on his desk. Then he's helping you onto his lap, your head tucked under his chin and your arms wapping on their own around his neck.
He doesn't care about your sticky fingers or the wet stains of your tears in his shirt. The only thing he cares about is the fact that you're right there, letting him engulf your frame and drown in the scent and warmth he'd misses so much.
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The first day of June has Jungkook sweating and wishing for a haircut. Jungkook usually hates summer. He hates the fact that he has to shower at least twice a day, and the fact that the heat is almost unbearable to sleep in and also the fact that he's easily sunburnt.
This year, however, Jungkook likes summer a little bit more.
"Excuse me, miss. Do you have an appointment?" it's the fact that you're starting to wear those summer dresses he loves so much, and the fact that your skin glows under the sun like glitter, and also the fact that he can lick ice cream off of it whenever he desires.
"I am the appointment." your giggle is almost childlike, playing with Jungkook's heart strings. You shut the door behind you, nearing him. You also seem to always have that flush on your cheeks. Although he likes to think part of it is due to him. He doesn't say anything else as he puts his pencil down and instead turns around in the chair to have you immediately on top of his thighs.
Yeah, he also likes the path your lips trace from his cheek, to his jaw, ending at the juncture between his neck and his shoulder. It still makes his body quaver to this day.
"Let me see." he murmurs against you forhear, his hand already working on unbottoning the front of your dress.
"Mijoo hasn't left yet." you whisper back, your smile impossible to supress and the faint whimper impossible to hide when his fingers expose your breast and tug at the titanium barbell adorning the already hardened nub.
Jungkook loves knowing he was the one to do that, and also the only one to play with it. He doesn't hesitate when he dips his head. "As if we'd ever cared about that." he adds, wrapping your sole point in his mouth.
He fucks you on his studio table with your legs around his waist and his tongue playing with both your breasts, the tattoo sketches long forgotten, scattered on the floor as he whispers against your flesh something that sounds a lot like 'I love you'.
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f1nalboys · 3 years ago
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Okay, okay! So I love your poly!Ghostface dark/angst, but I wanna see you do some poly!Ghostface dark/fluff too(if that's a thing?)! Still unhealthy/toxic relationship, but one where their feelings are at least actually true and genuine. Trio vs the World shit. Best Friends to Lovers blah blah blah cause you know Im a slut for that lmao. NSFW too if you're willing 👀
AHH so glad I finally got to this request I'm sorry it took me so long :(( HOWEVER i had fun writing it!! i really hope you enjoy (ps, no smut unfortunately i tried to add it and it was coming out wrong ahhh) flashbacks are italicized! 
WORD COUNT: 2352
WARNINGS: toxic relationship, kinda cute moments between the three of you, cursing, little bit of stalking, threats of violence, no nsfw because i was a little lazy sorry :,(
Had someone told you five years ago that you'd be dating not only Billy Loomis but Stu Macher as well, you’d have laughed straight in their face. And yet here you were, curled up on the couch between the two, your legs thrown over Billys and your head resting on Stu’s shoulder, watching a horror movie. You smile softly as you feel Billy’s hand grip your thigh slightly. He never seemed to realize he was doing it which made it even cuter.
“Remember the day I met you guys?” You question, head moving off of Stu’s shoulder when he turns to look at you. He gives you a goofy grin and nods, kissing the tip of your nose. “Sure, baby. Why?”
“Did you think we would have gotten together? Like, back then?”
“Definitely,” Billy says, poking his finger into your side. You raise an eyebrow at him, catching his hand and holding it in your lap. He sighs, grinning slightly. “Alright, maybe not the day we met, but I knew pretty soon. Why? What’s got you thinking about it?”
You shrug, not really sure yourself. Something about the situation you three were in at the moment made your mind drift to those few awful god damn weeks. “You two really sucked then, you know? Honestly, I’m surprised I didn't kill you both.”
Stu gasps, throwing himself back with a hand on his heart. You roll your eyes; ever the dramatic. “You would have hurt us? I can’t believe this… the betrayal!” You elbow him and he sits back up, laughing, and wraps his arms around you, planting a few sloppy kisses onto your neck.
“We weren’t even that bad, babe.” Billy says, eyes widening as you glare at him.
“Not that bad? Do I need to remind you of the first thing you said to me when we met?” You shoot back, sitting up closer to Stu. You had already forgiven the two for how they acted then, but that doesn’t mean you can’t give them a hard time.
The first day you met Billy and Stu, it had started out good. You still didn’t have many friends but that was perfectly okay with you. You were sat in the grass outside one of the buildings where your next class was held, waiting. Thirty more minutes and you got to go to math; yay. You were leaned up against a tree, headphones in, trying to relax, when two men stood in front of you. They were pretty cute. One was tall, wearing a thin sweater and a goofy grin, while the other was shorter with dark hair and a smirk. The tall one's mouth moves and you pull your earbuds out, about to apologize for not hearing him, when the shorter one speaks.
“Pretty stupid to wait for someone to talk to you before taking your headphones out.” His smile was still there but it was clearly masking his annoyance. Your eyebrows raise in surprise at the gall of this dude. You don’t even know him and he thinks he’s owed a conversation?
“Excuse me?”
“What? You’re deaf and a bitch?” The taller one slaps the back of his head immediately and he grumbles, rubbing the soreness. You scoff, shaking your head, fuming. Was it just this dude or were most people here dicks? You didn't want to find out.
You stand, grabbing your bag and pushing past the two, heading towards the building. Your eyes instantly roll into the back of your head when you hear the sound of footsteps behind you. “Hey, I’m sorry about him, really. That’s how he jokes and sometimes it comes across as mean. I’m Stu and he’s Billy.”
Stopping in your tracks you turn to face Stu, the taller one, and take a second to think of a response. Glancing over at Billy, who had finally caught up with you, you can see what resembles regret on his features. “Well, he didn’t come across as mean, he came across as an asshole.”
Stu laughs, nodding. Billy shrugs, giving you that same weak smile he had shown when he approached. You shrug your backpack up higher onto your shoulder, the weight of it starting to get to you, when Billy grabs ahold of it and yanks it off of you. “What the hell? Give me my shit back!”
“Least I can do is to carry it for you. You going to class?” He asks. It’s like he wasn’t taking no for an answer. You give a large sigh and nod, silently thankful for the weight off your shoulders. “Which building?”
“Sycamore.” He nods and begins to walk there, you and Stu trailing behind him. “Is he always so...?” You ask Stu under your breath, trailing off, unsure of a word that could describe the man. He grins and nods. “Annoying? Mean? Stubborn? Yes, yes, and yes.”
Billy groans at the memory, annoyed. He hated when you brought that up. “I told you I was just having an off day! Come on, you’re acting like Stu didn’t offend you too! Do you not remember when you got food with us, like, that night?” Stu punches Billy in the shoulder hard, pissed that he had brought it up.
“Oh yeah! I kinda forgot about how much of a dickhead Stu was,” You say, leaning back against the couch. It really was a shock your relationship with the boys got to where it was now.
Billy and Stu followed you around all day. It seemed they were trying to apologize for Billy’s attitude earlier but, if you were being honest, it was kind of unnerving. After your math class, where they had walked you inside the building and only left when the professor came in, you saw them waiting outside under the tree you had been at.
“Can you guys stop following me?” You had told them the third time you noticed them, this time at the small diner you stopped by after your last class. Stu’s face turned red and he looked behind him as if there was someone else you could be talking about. “Yeah, you two.”
“We wanted to apologize for earlier,” Billy said, motioning for you to join them at their table. You had to choose which one to sit next too and, after your not-so-pleasant meeting with Billy that morning, you sat next to Stu. He sticks his tongue out at Billy who rolls his eyes.
“You already apologized. It’s getting kind of creepy.” You say, placing your elbow on the table. Before the boys could respond, the waitress walks over, placing down their drinks. She flashes you a smile and takes your order, walking off with a sway in her hips, much to the boy's enjoyment.
Stu throws an arm over your shoulder and you shrug him off, ignoring the pained look he gives you. “We just wanted to make sure you really knew we were sorry! Billy here never acts right around a hottie,”
“Stu you fucking idiot.” Billy spits, throwing something at him. Stu laughs, holding his hands up in mock surrender. Billy looks at you and gives you what looks like a real, genuine smile. “Sorry about him; he can’t seem to think with his upstairs brain.”
“Don’t need to when my downstairs one leads me to be sitting next to a smoke show,” Stu says, holding his hand out to you for a high five. Your face flushes and you ignore him, scooting away from him slightly. He was cute, sure, but way too forward. “What? Can’t compliment people anymore?”
“Not when your compliments are preceded by stalking.” You mutter, a part of you hoping he doesn’t hear it. Unfortunately, he does. You see his face change in your peripheral vision and your eyes flick over to Billy. He grins at you, sitting back in the booth, and taking a sip from his drink. He was enjoying this.
“Stalking? You’re fucking with me, right?” His rant is cut short by the return of the waitress who hands you your drink and places the food the boys had ordered onto the table, completely oblivious to your discomfort. She leaves and Stu grabs a fry from his plate, chewing loudly. “We’re not fucking stalking you - trust me, there are better ways to spend our time.”
Billy throws his balled up straw wrapper at Stu, catching his attention, and you let out a soft sigh of relief when Stu’s demeanor changes. He was back to smiling and laughing as if he hadn’t just been attempting to tear you to shreds. “Sorry about that… I’m pretty tired, that’s all.” Stu says, playing with his fingers.
“S’okay, I guess.”
“Why don’t you let us take you on a date? You know, as an apology?” Billy chimes in and Stu grins, nodding. A large part of yourself was screaming no. There was something off about these boys, something dark just under the surface, but you were intrigued. And so you smile.
“Yeah, I guess you two can do that.”
Billy had his arms wrapped around you, laughing at the excuses Stu was stammering out. He was obviously getting frustrated at the memory and you opened your arms to let him join in on the cuddling.
“You know, I really am glad we stuck together. I don’t know what I’d do if it were for our nightly cuddle sessions,” You say, your words muffled by Stu’s sweater. He pulls back and gives you a kiss, Billy swooping in to take one from him as well.
“Yeah, I don’t know what I’d do without our fuck sessions,” Stu hums and you groan, punching him in the shoulder. What a way to ruin the moment. “Wait, let’s not act like you were a saint in all of this! I remember you being pretty awful at one point.”
“What?! No way!”
Billy nods, tickling your sides for a second. “Sure were, babe.”
Two months into the relationship was your breaking point. You really did like, if not love, the boys and yet you were still an outsider. Walking into the shared apartment just for their whispered conversations to stop. Late nights spent in the living room with hushed voices while you tried to sleep. You felt as though you only knew a portion of the two people you had come to like; no, love.
You admit it was petty. It wasn’t the right thing to do in any circumstance, but you did it because you knew it would get a reaction. You had packed a bag and sat in the living room. You wanted them to see you leave. Wanted them to see how much their secrecy had taken. You had been together only a short while and yet you felt so at home with them that the idea of actually leaving, of breaking it off, nearly tore you apart.
The door opens and in enters Billy and Stu, wrapped up in their own conversation. Stu waves at you, carrying on before realizing what he had just seen. “Babe? What are you doing?”
“I’m leaving.” Your voice was confident, not a waver in sight, and you knew it was because you weren’t planning on leaving. Some would call it manipulation, sure, but you were backed into a corner. Stu’s mouth drops open and Billy stares at you, his eyes narrowed.
“What? What do you mean you’re leaving? What’s wrong? Did something happen?” Stu rushes to sit down next to you on the couch, not wanting to accept the idea that you were leaving them on your own volition. His arms wrap around yours and you shove him off. “Babe?”
You shake your head, standing from your spot on the couch, grabbing ahold of the bag. Billy was still standing near the door, his arms crossed, watching you. “Don’t call me that. The two of you… It’s like I’m not even in this relationship. I’m an outsider with the two people I love and there’s not a damn thing I can do about it.”
“Where the hell is this coming from?” Billy questions, grabbing ahold of your arm when you try to walk past him. His voice is thick and you could see the vein in his forehead throbbing. He was angry and you hate to admit it but that’s exactly what you were hoping for.
For the next two hours the three of you talk about your relationship and the future of it. Stu cried, you cried, Billy sniffled a few times, and then you came to an agreement. No more secrets. They told you things that they hadn't told anyone before that they hid behind a vague threat of ‘once you hear this you’re stuck with us,’ and you told them things you had planned on taking to your grave. To say you weren’t shocked at what they told you would be a lie.
Murder wasn’t what you thought they were capable of and especially not murder so gruesome. But, oddly, you felt better about being with them. They trusted you, loved you, enough to let you know their biggest and darkest secret. And you loved it.
Knowing they wouldn’t hesitate to kill for you was a major turn on, which they soon found out.
“Wow, I really was kind of horrible, wasn’t I.” You mutter as Billy recounts the memory with a few interruptions by Stu. You didn’t remember it that way but the more they talked the more you could tell they were being honest. “Well, good thing we stuck together, hm? Would have been pretty bad if we hadn’t.”
“Yeah because we would have killed you,” Billy whispers into your ear and you shiver. He’s telling the truth and that’s what makes the relationship the way it is; they choose to be with you, to keep you around, to love you. “Yeah, we would have given you a call a while ago,” Stu says, his finger making a slicing motion across your neck.
You roll your eyes not because you don’t believe them but because you do. And you wouldn’t have it any other way.
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wutheringmights · 3 years ago
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Can I be greedy and ask for all of the boys ? And any characters you have strong opinions on? Pretty please? With lots of cherries and chocolate on top? ( for the ask meme ofc)
Anon, I'll finish up all of the boys in the Chain just for you. And trust me, I have an Infinite Amount of Strong Opinions. You have no idea how Opinionated I Am.
If anyone is coming in late to this, here are the boys I have done already and a short summary of my thoughts (click the hyperlinks to get the full Opinion):
Warriors: he's best when he's the trashy anti-Link, and I like him so much
Twilight: kind of boring, but I have a soft spot for him anyway because you never forget your first
Wind: should have been aged up a little so that he can have that identity crisis I'm craving
This... gets long. Really long. 3-hours-of-work-long. Before you read, please note that even when I speak negatively about something, it’s not to diss anyone who does like the thing. I’m not vague posting or being passive aggressive. This is all written in good humor and good faith. 
That being said, let’s a-go!
-Sky-
What I love about them: He has one of the best character arcs of all the Links. I love that he starts off being lazy and kind of a jerk, but grows as a person because he wants to save his friend. And I love that he's truly the most courageous Link. He has no other successful hero of past or legacy to lean back upon to reassure him. He walked into that fight with Demise with no assurance from anyone that he would succeed. Yet, he does it anyway. Because he's a true hero and someone had to be one. And he's rewarded with a curse that he does not initially take seriously. He thinks he's saved everyone, yet he's cursed his spirit, possibly his bloodline, and his entire legacy of the kingdom of Hyrule into a doomed cycle of destruction. All because he dared to face evil incarnate. I love him.
What I hate about them: You know how I called Twilight boring? I should have saved that critique for Sky. LU Sky is actually the most boring interpretation of his character. All of his negative traits? Gone. All of his positives? Also gone. He's the blandest version of himself, and like Twilight, I now feel like I gotta add some spice to him to make him more interesting while still keeping him recognizable. Even so, he's still one of my favorite Links.
Favorite Moment/Quote: When he kicks Twilight's ass at sword fighting. That's stuff is *chef's kiss*
What I would like to see more focus on: You would think that there would be more angst out there about him realizing that he's actually been cursed, but it's still kind of hard to find. He's the Cursed Knight! The beginning of a terrible legacy! Imagine meeting a bunch of heroes for the first time, and instead of being relieved at having someone who understands your experiences, you're filled with horror at realizing that your victory was a false one. You didn't win. Your spirit will never be at rest. Imagine dealing with that realization for the rest of your life. You could never be at peace.
What I would like to see less focus on: I love that he loves his wife, but he's more just the fact that he's married, y'know? I would like to see a little less blind devotion to Hylia and Zelda, and more complicated feelings about being manipulated into being the hero.
Favorite pairing with: Sun/Link/Groose OT3! I have no reasoning behind this other than I like Groose and Groose definitely had a crush on SkSw Link.
Favorite friendship: I won't answer Groose again even if I want to, so I'll say Warriors. I cannot begin to describe how elite this friendship would be if you gave it a chance. They're just two boys dealing with unique positions of leadership and responsibility. They would probably even bond over being shitheads at different ends of the shithead spectrum. It's so good, okay?
NOTP: Ghirahim. I'm not too adverse to this one, but the ship hinges on whether you can redeem Ghirahim or not. In my opinion, Ghirahim is awesome because he's such a fun villain. Redeeming him ruins the fun.
Favorite headcanon: I have a whole life story planned out for Sky. Basically, he lives to be close to 500 years old by the power of the Triforce. He is the Link throughout the Era of Chaos who banishes the Dark Interlopers to the Twilight Realm and seals the Triforce in the Sacred Realm. He actually seals himself in the Sacred Realm as well to keep the Triforce safe, and he fought Ganondorf in when he broke in. Sky, like Time and Wind, does not get a happy ending.
-Four-
What I love about them: Four is origin of the heroes of Hyrule being known for being children. What a legacy to leave behind. He's such an interesting case of an incarnation of the Hero's Spirit, too. He fought Vaati, and he did his job so well that Demise's next incarnation had to be Ganondorf. Four did his job the best out of everyone, and it came at the cost of creating a magic sword that changed him permanently. I like to think that the Four Sword was not meant to split him, that it was a mistake he made with the design. And it's sad, isn't it? You made a defective sword, and like any good sword, it has a symbolic double edge. It gifted you with so much, and yet he can never be the same again. And his story is never well-remembered because it is overshadowed by the Links who fought the King of Evil. He's does so much, yet his legacy is underappreciated.
What I hate about them: I want to prepare you for this Opinion, because I know it's unpopular. Are you ready? Okay. I don't like the Colors. I'm sorry. I want to like them, but they don't interest me at all. Because they are parts of Four’s personality, they have to be one-note archetypes which does not make for exciting storytelling. I also haven't found a fic yet that has been from Four's POV that did the internal monologue of the Colors in a way that wasn't a pain in the ass to read. Maybe if someone can figure out how to do the Colors in a way that doesn't feel like a drag, I would like them more. But in the end, I think Four himself is more interesting than the Colors.
Favorite Moment/Quote: The fact that he didn't want to touch the Master Sword because he doesn't trust magic swords. That is every I need to know about his opinion on his own adventures.
What I would like to see more focus on: I want more of Four as Four. It's getting harder to find content of Four being his own person first and the Colors second.
What I would like to see less focus on: Four being the Colors first and his own person second. There is something about viewing Four as this cover identity for the Colors that doesn't feel right. There's a balance that needs to be strike between his ability to split, how that affects his every day life, and his own identity of being Four. I think I may have read one fic that hit that sweet spot for me, but still.
Favorite pairing with: Shadow. I'm such a sucker for befriending and falling for the enemy. That is all.
Favorite friendship: Dot! Their friendship is super cute. I like the idea of them being super close when they were younger and struggling to keep the friendship going as they age due to how much their paths in life diverge.
NOTP: This isn't necessarily a Four or an LU problem, but people who ship the Colors together? Bro. C'mon.
Favorite headcanon: I'm torn between two different Four and the Master Sword headcanons. On one hand, Four thinking that the Master Sword is just legend until he meets Sky and everyone else is just a fun idea. He sees the legendary sword for the first time and his mind is blown. On the other hand, I also like my Four with a side of hubris. What if he had the option on his quest to draw the Master Sword himself? What if he could tell that if he did that, the consequences would be terrible. He's not sure what would happen, but he knows it would be terrible. So he decided to make his own sword instead to disastrous results. Wouldn't that be tragic or what?
-Time-
What I love about them: Last winter, I did a two hour powerpoint for my friends about the Legend of Zelda timeline. During that powerpoint, I was rating every iteration of Link. What I said about the Hero of Time then holds true to my thoughts of LU Time now. Time is the original Link, more so than Sky in the lore and Legend/Hyrule in real life. Every other hero is a reflection of him. So the fact that his story is about the loss of childhood and the tragedy of that is incredible, and you can see those themes reflected in every other game. Moreso, he’s the only Link with a confirmed tragic ending. Not only does he end his life unsatisfied, but his adventure is failure on every timeline. In the adult timeline, Hyrule is swallowed by the sea. In the child one, Ganondorf returns again. In the fallen timeline, Hyrule fell. I like the idea since that the games themselves are the legends that are past down about each hero, Hylians have also remembered Time as a tragic figure. Yet, they also remember that the happy moments for his life come from small acts of kindness. Even someone as sad as him finds joy in helping others, even if it’s just to small deeds that will not be heralded as grand heroic quests. It’s beautiful.
What I hate about them: This is more about Mask than Time, but Mask is not an adult in a child’s body. He did not rewind time in Termina enough to be considered mentally an adult. He’s a young teenager at best, and that’s me being generous. He is a child who was forced to be an adult and despite the gods being done with him, he cannot conceive of ever having a childhood again. So he can say all he wants that he’s an adult, but he is not. That’s just what he thinks he is.
Favorite Moment/Quote: Anytime we get a flashback to him being a younger adult is great. I want to see more of his in this his early adulthood.
What I would like to see more focus on: I think I just want more of Time being... not a bad leader, but being an imperfect one. I honestly think he’s only the leader because he’s the oldest and enough of the heroes recognize the title of Hero of Time. But he is not the leader type, and he is struggling to keep it together and has to defer to Twilight and Warriors for help a lot. 
What I would like to see less focus on: I’m not the biggest fan of Dad!Time for any of the Links. He’s not emotionally ready for it. And I think he defaults to treating the boys like adults because that’s how he wanted to be treated when he was their age. 
Favorite pairing with: Malon. He has this great partnership of equal respect with her and it’s just. So good.
Favorite friendship: Linebeck. I know. This exists only in my head. But if these two ever meet, you cannot convince me that they would not get along swimmingly. It would be so good (once Linebeck gets over his crush on Time and stops hitting on him, of course).
NOTP: Child Timeline Zelda. Let me explain: I fully believe in Bi Time supremacy, and when in OoT, he definitely had a crush on Sheik. However, one of the worst parts of rewinding time and being in the child timeline is that Zelda is a completely different person now. They may have been friends in the other timeline, but her life experiences are completely different now. She is not the same person as he once knew. And it’s tragic to know someone as who they could have been, not as they are.
Favorite headcanon: After Termina, Time spent a lot of time with the Nabooru because out of everyone he knew, she’s the only who took him seriously even as a child. She has big older sister energy, and he considers her a part of his family. However, being treated as such made it easier for him to ignore his issues and put off his healing process by a few years.
-Legend-
What I love about them: Veteran of Heroes! What a freaking title. I love that he keeps on finding adventures, and that he keeps hustling. Even if he complains about never getting a break, you can tell that he loves helping others. He loves being on the road, never settling down, and finding adventure after adventure. Honestly, if any of the Links had a calling to be a hero, it’s him. Is he tired? Sure. Is he a little jaded after having saved Hyrule and a bunch of other kingdoms multiple times? Yes. But at the end of the day, he likes being a hero. This is who he is. His complaining is not genuine; he just plays the martyr because, at this point, he’s earned the right to.
What I hate about them: If you can’t tell by now, I have a, uh, different interpretation of Legend from popular canon. Fandom Legend is not right to me. He is unrecognizable. It is hard to write him because I feel like I have to balance what other people think Legend should be versus how I think he is. The people who are big Legend enjoyers probably feel the same way about my version of Warriors, and that’s fine. I’m not going to gel with every character and I don’t expect everyone to gel with how I see characters either. It’s goes both ways, y’know.
Favorite Moment/Quote: I like how subtly he tried to approach the Wolfie problem at first, trying to ask questions and get more proof before confronting Twilight. It’s a good touch.
What I would like to see more focus on: If I had to choose one thing, it’s this one throw away line about him never wanting to settle down. I’m telling you, folks! He likes his lifestyle! And did you see him when he does presenting the origins of the hero? He’s not bitter about being a hero! Legend is moody, but he is not angsty about the whole hero thing. Have fun with him please!
What I would like to see less focus on: If you can’t tell by now, Legend is my least favorite Link. There is a lot I want to see less of, but just to name one thing, it’s the headcanon that Fable is his sister. I live and die by common born Link, and whether he’s a legitimate heir or the royal bastard, I am more than bored with the persistent Prince!Legend content.
Favorite pairing with: Marin. It’s a good tragic story and I like it well enough. She’s cute, and he’s cute with her.
Favorite friendship: Warriors. I’m with everyone else on these two have peak sibling energy. They tease and pick on each other, but only they are allowed to mess with each other. They’re each other’s bully, and it’s always good to see.
NOTP: I do not have enough energy to have a lot of strong opinions about Legend’s romantic relationships, but I will mentioned that I have lost a lot of love for Ravio recently and am liking seeing him with Legend less and less. I have no better reason for this than the fact that I finally played ALBW and hate how many of my hard earned rupees he’s taken from me by withholding important, lifesaving items. Rat bastard.
Favorite headcanon: Remember my headcanon about him being the coolest bad boy folk hero on the block because everyone thinks he kidnapped Zelda? Yeah, I still stand by that one. I did good there.
-Hyrule-
What I love about them: If there is any Link that I would call a gutter rat, it is this one. I struggle a bit to talk about Hyrule since his games gives us so little, but in the end, I always fall back on him being a hero of the people. He is the one who has nothing and relates the best to people who are at their lowest. Yet, he is still a hero. He earns the right to be a hero because he helped Impa in her time of need. He’s selfless and competent. Even if he never got a traditional education, I bet he’s wicked smart too. He is the Link that symbolizes all of the parts of the Triforce the most. And, god. I cannot talk about him without mentioning the blood sacrifice part of LA. It’s such a cool concept, and I cannot imagine what it must be like to go from being the rough and tumble, win-at-all-costs fighting to protecting yourself first because if you don’t, the consequences are disastrous. It’s paradoxical, and it must be such a different mindset to fall into. But it must also be a blessing in disguise since now he has a reason to finally care about himself.
What I hate about them: Who started the Hyrule is innocent headcanon? Come over here because we need to exchange some words. If there is anyone who would be a realist and know how the world works, it’s this guy. And while we’re here, who came up with the Hryule is always lost headcanon? I also have some words for you. And you know what? WHILE WE’RE HERE, who let him be named Hyrule? I’m have more than choice words for you. His name scheme is the bane of my existence and the express reason why I don’t write him more. God.
Favorite Moment/Quote: That one panel where he takes utter delight in Warriors hiding from his scorned lovers? That is a central pillar in my understanding of Hyrule.
What I would like to see more focus on: Again, his relationship with other people. Even if his games are lacking in NPCs, we know from lore that he’s a good guy who will jump in to help others. He must know plenty of people, and I want to see who exists in his world with him. 
What I would like to see less focus on: I have an on-going joke with my brother that certain characters are Catholic, even if Catholicism does not exist in the world of the thing we’re watching or playing. Of course, we’re not being serious. we’re just joshing around. So imagine the gut punch I feel whenever I see people say Hyrule is Christian and realize that they’re being serious. I just can’t take it seriously.
Favorite pairing with: Aurora. It’s cute and I’m a sucker for that hero and royalty dynamic, especially when the hero is a peasant. It’s so cheesy, but I love it.
Favorite friendship: Legend. But not the way everyone else pairs them up as the grumpy one and the sunshine one. I think of it more as them being the pinnacle of boys being boys. They’re shitheads. They do stupid shit together. They both have a dark sense of humor. They joke that they’re practically the same person sometimes.
NOTP: uhhhhhhhhh.... Is he paired with anyone else?
Favorite headcanon: I love the idea that he just likes his way of life and refuses to accept anyone saying otherwise. Legend wants to teach him to read? Sorry, but he’s never had to read before in his life so he’s pretty sure he’ll never need it anyway. Want to participate in the treasured Hylian tradition of piercing your ears when you come of age? Why would he ever do that when a monster could rip those earrings off? He’s stuck in his ways and it frustrates everyone else to no end, but he has no interest in ever changing.
-Wild-
What I love about them: When I was 9, I spent my time online on Legend of Zelda forums. I remember one of my forum friends saying that they wanted a Legend of Zelda game where Link lost. And I think of that friend whenever I think about Wild. BOTW Link is the best Link that has ever been. He is the epitome of every trait we associate with any Link. He’s smart and sassy. He’s hard working and kind. But underlining all of that is the fact that he’s still the one who failed. If Demise’s Curse in SkSw is the set-up, the Great Calamity is the payoff. And I haven’t even talked about how confirming him as being non-verbal before the Calamity does so much for his characterization. I don’t even know where to start or how to articulate it. By game storyline alone, Wild is one of my favorites.
What I hate about them: You guys knew this one was coming, but I’m going to have to say it anyway. Fandom Wild.... not good. I’ve said it for half of these boys so far, but god is it true. I have a way I see Wild that is rarely done in the fandom. Fandom Wild has a lot of the traits I also see in Wild, but to all of the extremes. I will mention one thing in particular as being a pet peeve, and it’s how some people headcanon him as always being nonverbal. I know what they’re trying to do, and I think they’re on to something, but they’re also missing the point of what BOTW Link’s character arc is. I just wish more people would forget fandom and work more off of the games for how to characterize him.
Favorite Moment/Quote: Weirdly enough, my favorite moment is when he got mad at everyone for making fun of his Gerudo outfit, so he dumped Goron Spice in his cooking. It’s encapsulates a part of his character I think a lot of people forget about.
What I would like to see more focus on: I think he has a really complicated relationship with his past. He said himself that his old self felt like a different person, and I think that should be explored a lot more. That idea actually fascinates me so much that instead of CTB, I almost wrote a character study fic about Wild. His emotions are not as simple as feeling guilty about letting his friends die and not preventing the Calamity. His emotions would be so complicated and because I don’t have the time to explore it, someone else needs to do it for me.
What I would like to see less focus on: There is a weird fascination with Wild having memory loss and essentially being like a kid again. And this feels infantilizing to me. It honestly bugs me a lot every time I see it.
Favorite pairing with: I can’t decide between Zelda, Mipha, and Revali. They’re all different dynamics and they’re all good.
Favorite friendship: Paya. I firmly believe that Paya is Wild’s best friend. I am the only one in the world who believes this. But I am also the only one in the world who is correct. 
NOTP: Wild is good with everyone. Good for him!
Favorite headcanon: An essential scene of my Wild character study I will never write is one where his horse dies. He goes into shock and walks back to Kakariko to talk to Impa. But once he goes to her, he breaks down in tears and has an absolute melt down over the horse. And Impa sagely says, “It’s not about the horse, is it?” She’s implying that he’s actually mourning the loss of his friends, Hyrule, his life, everything-- but through his tears, he keeps tell her that she’s wrong. He barely remembers them. He doesn’t know them. He doesn’t have any feelings about them. He just really loved that horse. But Impa refuses to listen to him, just repeating over and over again: “it’s not really about the horse.”
And that’s it! That’s all of my opinions! I know a lot of my opinions are polarizing, but everything I said is in good faith, and I am not trying to diss anyone for how they approach these characters.
I welcome you to send me your Opinions on the Links, even if it’s just to disagree with me. I’m cool with it, and I like knowing what everyone else thinks!
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stompinapuddle · 3 years ago
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long way home
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Warnings / Content - Smut(NSFW), mean, angst, profanity
Synopsis - Evan ends up taking you home. Both of you aren't too fond of each other. You have a big fight and end up in his room, then one thing leads to another...
Evan Peters / fem!reader
A / N - I couldn’t find a picture of him appropriate to the story so have this. Also, this has a kinda long plot making it pretty long.
The day started really well because you had gotten accepted to your dream school. That happy feeling lasted until your last class of the day. As you walked to the classroom you only hoped he wouldn't be there. Evan was the first person you saw. You took your seat next to him still trying to not let anything ruin your mood. Which was so hard while sitting next to Evan. You guys never got along, mostly because he's one of your brother's friends. You always thought they were rude.
“You're late.” Evan looks up at you with a smirk on his face. You brush it off and take your seat. You both get to work on your project that's due at the end of class. All you have to do is add some finishing touches for your part. You can see him out the corner of your eye not doing anything
“Could you please work on your slides?” You're trying your best not to sound demanding. He lets out a long, unnecessary groan, but starts actually working. You just roll your eyes and get back to work.
“Some of my slides aren't finished. Could you do them for me?” He shows you all the incomplete, messy slides. This sets something off in you.
“No, I can't do your fucking slides for you. I swear, you're so lazy and irresponsible.” You felt your blood boil. You’re really going to fail because this dumbass can’t do his part on a project, you thought.
“You could've just said no.”He lets out a frustrated sigh. “Fuck, I'm sorry. I got busy, okay?” He sounds sincere. But you still can't stand the fact that he’s going to be the reason you get a bad grade. Class is just about over. You just turn it in as it is. 
After class, you call your brother to come to pick you up. He tells you he won't be there for another hour. As if your day couldn't get worse. You sit on a bench outside of the school. Waiting impatiently. You see Evan walking and realize his car is parked right in front of you. Fuck.
“Isn't your brother supposed to pick you up? He unlocks his car. He's the last person you want to see. 
“He's gonna be late, why do you care?” That came out less hostile than you wanted it to.
“Let me take you home. Or would you rather sit out here all alone? He stood in front of you. 
“I’d rather be alone, thanks” You glared at him.
“Come on, let me make it up to you, I really am sorry. He was practically pouting when you looked up. Honestly, you didn't want to sit there another second. 
“Fine.” You let out an irritated sigh. You both get into the car and he begins to drive. You tell your brother you found a ride. “You could drive yourself if you’d just get your license. But you’d probably be a danger on the road” He let out a small chuckle. You weren't that bad at driving just not all that good.
“Not having my license is a choice, it's also none of your business.”��It's not long until you get a text from your dad telling you he's at your house and wants to talk. You don't know why your mom let him in. It seems like nothing can go right today.“Actually, can you take me to your house? My brother can pick me up from there, I just really don't want to go home.”
“Well, uh sure.” He stutters. It's not like you've never been to his house before. Your brother has taken you there plenty of times. He starts going in the direction of his house. He hits a speedbump a little too fast and his hand immediately grabs your upper thigh. “my bad, I didn't mean to do that.” You knew it was probably just instinct so you didn’t get mad. 
“No, it's okay.” You said in a soft tone you’d never expect to take with him. The moment was quick but you can’t help but remember the feeling of his hand gripping your thigh and you wanted it back. You haven't had sex in so long. All you could do was cross your legs tight enough to feel even a little stimulation. 
“You alright there? You seem tense.” He chuckled. You felt your cheeks get hot, you thought you were doing a good job hiding it. You 
“What do you mean?” You stumble on your words. You decide to uncross your legs in case he catches on. He just shrugged and put his focus back on the road. You remain as hot and bothered as before. You try and roll the windows down.
“No, I'm cold.” He rolls it up again.
“Well I’m hot, you can't even feel it on your side.” You roll it down again.
“We’re practically there, and it's my fucking car. I swear you are such a brat.” He takes a strict tone. He pulls up in his driveway. You both get out of the car and he slams his door. He walks past you to his room. You decide to follow him which may not have been the best idea. No one’s home but the two of you.
“You didn't have to yell at me. All I wanted was to let some air in.” You thought he was being unreasonable, maybe you could've handled it better but his reaction was uncalled for. You stood in the doorway and watched him set his things down. He’s obviously trying to ignore you.
“No, you are such a pain in the ass. I tried to be nice to you and you couldn't let that last 10 minutes.” He stood in front of you now. He has a point. But you were filled with rage at the way he spoke to you. That rage mixed with the sexual frustration from earlier made you lose control. You rush in for a kiss. Why the fuck did I do that? You thought to yourself as soon as you pulled away. Evans's actions surprised you. He didn't pull away like you thought he would, but he kissed back. 
“I'm really sorry, I don't even know why I did that. Fuck, I’ll just see myself out.” You seriously don't know what came over you. You turn and try to exit his room. You felt a large, firm hand grab your arm and you get turned back around. 
“And where do you think you're going? What even was that?” His tone was so strict, you felt like you were about to be lectured. Your lips being only inches away from making contact again made your cheeks hot. 
“I'm really sorry, I know I shouldn't have.” You stammered. He still had a firm grip on your arm. This definitely wasn't helping your sexual frustration though. 
“You just fucking kissed me? He didn't sound mad but confused. “What the hell was that for?”
“Well, you kissed back.” You just wanted to leave at this point. “You know what? I'm just sorry. I’ll just go home and I’ll leave you a-” Before you could finish your sentence he pulled you closer and kissed you again. Of course, you kissed back.
You start feeling each other everywhere. You run your hands up and down his chest. You start tugging lightly on his shirt as a signal that you want it off. He lightly chuckles against your lips.
“Eager, are we?” He pulls it over his head and throws it somewhere on the ground. Then he does the same with yours. His hands caress your face. You bring your hands down to unzip his jeans. Evan breaks the kiss for a moment to slide them down. You take yours off too.
Evan sits on the edge of his bed and guides your hips to straddle him. You both are grinding on each other in just your underwear. He's kissing your neck which makes you even more desperate.
“Evan, p-please touch me.” You plead through soft breaths. You felt so needy. He knew and took full advantage of that. He took one hand off your hips and began to rub your clit over your [REDACTED].
“Like this, [NAME]?” He teased. He knew exactly how you wanted it.
“God, you're so frustrating.” You said breathily. You took this opportunity to take out his [REDACTED]. You rub your thumb over his tip smearing the precum leaking from it. He let out a low hum.
“Is this why you’re so bitchy, hm? Just need to be put in your place?” He taunts. “Do you want more, [NAME]?”
“Yes, I want more.” You groan softly. You couldn’t even think of anything witty to say back. It’s embarrassing how bad you wanted it. He slips his hand in your [REDACTED] and rubbed a finger between your folds. You were soaked.
“All this for me [NAME]?” He plays with your swollen clit. “Such a fucking mess.”He fakes a concerned look.
“You seem to be enjoying yourself too.” You refer to his [REDACTED] that was hard as a rock by now.
“You wanna taste it, princess?” You nodded eagerly. “Take your panties off for me first.” You climb off his lap. He takes his boxers off. You start by sliding your panties down slowly, turned to face away from him to give him a good view of your ass. You turn your head and see Evan stroking his cock while watching you. Your panties pool at your ankles and you kick them off somewhere. 
You face Evan and get on your knees, then you start to stroke his cock in one and start playing with his balls in the other. He places a hand at the back of your head. You take it as a sign to take him in your mouth. Shallow at first, then you take him deeper. He starts to buck his hips.
“This is all you needed to shut the fuck up for once, huh?” He starts to buck his hips. “Fuck princess, you can be such a good girl when you want to be.” You gag at his cock hitting the back of your throat. Profanities fall from his lips. He continues to fuck your face as you drool all over his cock. 
He grunts with every thrust, enjoying the feeling of your contracting throat. His thrusts become faster, he tells you how close he is. But he stops you by pulling you off by your hair. You give him a confused look
“Lay on the bed.” You feel butterflies in your stomach. You nod and do what you’re told. He swipes your lip with his thumb. “Open.” He commands. You comply. He slips a finger in your mouth. “Get it wet.” You swirl your tongue around it. Looking him in his eyes. “What a dirty slut you are.”
He takes his wet finger and slides it between your folds. You let out a soft whimper. He lowers his head to your aching pussy. He leaves wet kisses on the inner part of your thighs. He starts slowly licking your clit. Your hands tangle in his hair. He brings two fingers up and runs them between your folds. 
“Please?” You beg. He lets out a smug chuckle and slides the fingers into you. Your moans get louder as his strokes speed up just a little and his fingers curl inside of you. 
“You like that? You like using my fingers to get off?” His words make your walls tighten. 
“Oh, yes-oh my god” You are too lost in pleasure to feel embarrassed for enjoying it so much. You feel your climax creeping up on you as he continues sucking and licking your clit. “Please Evan, I'm gonna cum, please” You stumble on your words. 
“Cumming so soon?” He faked a concerned look. “Go ahead, I want to watch a bratty little bitch cum on my fingers and face.” He attaches his lips to your clit once again. You can't even say anything back because before you know it a wave comes crashing over you. 
The next moment you're squirming and whimpering. He continues though. You try and squirm away from him, only for him to pull you back and continue to devour you as he was before. You cant even form a sentence to try and beg him to stop. 
Luckily he stops and comes up to kiss you. You taste yourself on his lips. You get a second to cool down. He hovers over you while stroking his cock. You get the idea that it's your turn to torture and tease him.
“Lay down.” You say as less of a demand more of a request. 
“Oh, now you're giving orders?” He smirked.
“Just lay down” You climb on top of him grinding your bare pussy on his cock. he’s still very hard, you take his cock and play with it at your entrance. You slid his thick cock in your still sensitive walls and let out the most pornographic, shameful moan. He lets out a throaty moan as you take the rest of his length.
“Shit, you like taking that cock?” You nod enthusiastically. You start to move slowly, he tightly grips your hips. You lean down to his neck, trailing kisses, and bites. You go faster and his breathing gets heavy and he lets little moans slip. 
“Aw.” You giggle. “I guess you like the way I ride you.” He smacks your ass and you yelp from the impact. His fingers find their way to your clit and you clench tightly on him.
“Keep this up and you're gonna make me explode, princess.” You like the sound of that so you pick up the pace and clench even more. “I don't think I'm gonna last much longer baby.” 
“Yeah?” You tease breathily. You decide to slow down your movements making him groan. 
”Dont fucking do that to me baby.”he groans before grabbing your ass and fucks up into you. “I'm gonna fuck you how I want... and you're gonna take it.” His words make you quiver and he rutts into you going deeper inside of you with every thrust.
“F-fuck, I'm sorry.” The room fills with squelching as he pounds your warm, wet, clenching walls. You rest your hands on his chest. Pornagraphic moans and whines fall from your lips. He kisses you once more, probably to shut you up, you think. You feel your high approaching once more. 
“I'm close, god I'm so close.” You whine.
“Yeah? Then fucking cum baby, cum on my cock.” With that, you are hit with a second wave. You start convulsing while your hole is still being fucked. You arch your back from the overstimulation and your nails grip his thighs, sure to leave marks to which he lets out a gruff moan.
“I w-want to taste you” You stutter. 
“You wanna taste me?” He let a cocky chuckle. Then, takes his cock out of you and starts stroking it. You whine at the loss of contact. He climbs off the bed and stands next to it waiting for you. You get on your knees in front of him, looking at his cock. Still slick from being inside of you. 
You rub the tip lightly on your tonge. Evan gets impatient and bucks his hips lightly. He holds the back of your head to start fucking your face, throaty moans escaping his lips. He takes his cock out of your mouth and strokes it in front of your face. 
“You look so cute, all fucked out and on your knees just for me.” He strokes his cock even faster, his moans getting more needy. “Open.” He commands before cuming over your face and in your mouth, commenting on how pretty you look like this.
“Could I get a towel?” you chuckle.
“Sure thing, princess.” When he comes back with the wet towel you wipe your face and body clean. 
You are wrapped in his arms being held close, forgetting the reason you were even fighting as he plays with your hair and you both drift to sleep.
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luc606 · 3 years ago
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An Autumn Morning
(by @luc606) Saeyoung feels like he doesn't deserve the life he's built, so you pull him out of it with warm fall drinks and some light yard work.
Saeyoung x MC (MC is referred to as "you" but never by name) 1649 words, FLUFF, a little sadness but not enough to call it angst, just domestic Saeyoung with domestic brother-in-law (to be) Saeran, takes place like a year after SE, roughly based on this ask
also technically goes for mystictober day one: favorite character
Saeyoung was not accustomed to paying attention to the changing seasons.
Before, there were only days, months, and years that were spent mostly in the bunker, the time passing carefully, but not precisely measured, like sand through an hourglass. Saeyoung was used to that kind of life, and once he met you, he had found new insecurity in how well that kind of life had seemed to fit him. Now that he was with you, finding his way into a normal life little by little, there were days where it was all he could do not to retreat back into his dark office and wait for you to inevitably get tired of acclimating him to being average.
Today was one of those days.
He’d woken up before the sun, though he could only tell this by the time programmed sun lamp you had asked him to build. He’d installed them all over the bunker, and it only somewhat made up for the complete lack of windows.
Inexplicably, you’d made the bunker almost cozy. Especially now, as summer turned to fall, you’d gently folded throw blankets over the back of the couch and bought seasonal candles for the kitchen and living room.
On days like this, these touches made Saeyoung’s heart ache. Couldn’t you see that this wasn’t right for you? His love deserved a sweet suburban house or a cheerful cottage with a bay window in the dining room, not a windowless bulletproof box that had once been home to daily illegal activity.
You stir next to him in bed.
“Saeyoung?”
On days like this, he doesn’t think he deserves that name.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you up,” he says, rolling over to face you. To make himself face you.
“You didn’t,” you say. And then after a pause, “Are you okay?”
Saeyoung knows that he should tell the truth, tell you that he’s having one of those days where he feels like he doesn’t belong in your light. He doesn’t want to, he wants to lie and say everything is okay.
He says nothing, but his hesitation is enough for you. You’ve spent three years with the man now, you know how to tell when he’s feeling this way.
“Baby,” you say, pulling him into you. “Go back to sleep.”
Despite himself, he does.
In the morning, when the sun emulating lamp has begun to turn subdued shades of orange and pink, he finds that he is alone in the bed. You’d let him sleep in, which he almost never does. He lays for a moment, feeling foggy, but soon the door opens to reveal you in your robe with two cups of coffee. He almost smiles, smelling the pumpkin spice creamer you’ve sweetened the coffees with.
“Good morning,” you greet him with a careful smile, handing him his sweet seasonal drink.
The coffee is in a set of matching mugs that had been an engagement gift from Jaehee. His is red and yours is pink, and there’s a curve in both of them that forms a heart when they’re placed together. He loves that you go out of your way to use these mugs more than any others you own.
Saeyoung takes the coffee from you and takes a sip, it’s warm and almost too sweet. He knows you put just a bit more sugar in his coffee because he likes it better that way, even if he should learn to drink it more plain.
“I hope you slept well,” you take a seat next to him on the bed. “We have some yard work to do.”
“Yard work?” he asks, his surprise coming out as a laugh.
Before, the land surrounding the bunker was unruly. The trees and tall grass camoflauged the entrance, so he’d never felt the need to trim the grass or leaves. Now, though, the yard – he had a yard now – was fully under the jurisdiction of his brother. At the recommendation of his therapist, Saeran had begun the project shortly after you’d moved in as a way to redirect anxious energy. He’d planted flowers and shrubs all around the bunker and had laid a garden path around the front leading around to a small herb and vegetable garden in the back. It was Saeran’s pride and joy, and Saeyoung had stayed mostly out of it. He’d only mowed the lawn once, and even then Saeran had complained about the lines he’d made with the mower not being straight.
“It’s fall,” you say, emphasizing this by raising your mug of pumpkin spice flavored coffee. “The yard is covered in leaves, so you should rake them.”
“Isn’t that Saeran’s job?” Saeyoung asks, incredulous. “I mean he never lets me do anything in the yard, I really shouldn’t–”
You cut him off, “I told him you’d do it for him, I’ll help.”
Saeyoung knows what you’re doing here, you’ve done it before. When he gets down, you’ve found that keeping him busy and out of his thoughts helps him overcome the feeling faster. But yard work? This was a new low.
“It’ll be fun!” you add, taking his silence as dissent.
Saeyoung sighs, but nods. Success.
You and Saeyoung finish your coffees in relative silence, you sit perched in your robe reading something off your phone while your fiancé shivers against the cool morning air, bundled in your large comforter as if it’s a shawl. When he finally finishes his coffee (you suspect he’s sipping extra slowly, putting off getting out of bed) you take the mug from him and tell him to get dressed. He makes no move to get up, but he’s miraculously clothed when you return from the kitchen.
He looks good, it’s not often that your nerdy Saeyoung looks like this – rugged, a little messy. He’s wearing jeans and an old red flannel with the sleeves rolled up to expose his forearms. He’s pushed his hair back, as he’s accustomed to wearing it now, but without any product, a few of his curls are stuck up in the air while a few fall back onto his forehead.
You kiss his cheek gently as you slip past him towards the closet and he offers a small smile.
“Give me just a second and I’ll be ready,” you say, already slipping off your robe in the closet entrance.
Saeyoung pretends he isn’t looking as you change into a pair of jeans.
“Can I wear this?” you ask, holding up a long-sleeve red t-shirt of Saeyoung’s that he normally wears to work out or clean.
“I’m surprised you’re asking,” he jokes.
You do usually steal his clothes without permission, he doesn’t ever mind.
You shrug. “You’re right there, I’m just being polite.”
He laughs, and his face turns just a bit pink.
Once you’re dressed, you take Saeyoung’s hand and pull him out the door, through the living room, and all the way out to the small garden shed he’d built for Saeran as a gift on the twins’ last birthday.
From the shed, in which Saeran has lined up every tool neatly on pegs along one wall, Saeyoung retrieves the rake.
“How are you supposed to help if there’s only one rake?” he asks you.
You laugh, “I’m here for moral and emotional support, of course.”
Saeyoung, feeling lighter already, whips the end of the rake towards you and gently taps your backside with the handle.
“Lazy~”
“Hey!” You laugh, lunging towards him and catching the rake in your hands and pulling your fiancé towards you with it. “Saeyoung!”
Saeyoung laughs easily, and you can feel the waves of his bad mood melting off. His moments of sadness, depression from a life’s worth of grief and anxiety pushed away for years, are fewer and further between now. He’s seen a therapist a few times, a colleague that Saeran’s therapist recommended, but most of his healing was done by seeing his brother survive and learn to thrive outside of the harsh conditions of their childhood and his time spent in Rika’s misguided care.
“And it’s not that much,” you say, “I’ll put all the leaves in Saeran’s mulch pile while you’re raking and we’ll be done in no time.”
You pull the rake towards yourself again, this time catching Saeyoung’s hip to steady him while bringing him in close.
“Are you feeling better?” You ask, voice low. “You look like you’re feeling better.”
Saeyoung startles, like he didn’t expect you to acknowledge out loud that he was feeling any kind of way at all, but quickly recovers before saying, “Yes, actually.”
He smiles as you pull him down into a gentle kiss, you feel him fail to keep the smile off his face as he kisses you back. His face is warm from the last little bit of summer sun that’s pouring down on you both.
“I love you,” you say, finally pulling away.
His eyes are intense as he pulls back to look at you.
“I love you too.”
Later, after the fallen leaves have been relocated to Saeran’s compost and are no longer threatening to ruin the lawn, Saeran thanks his brother for raking the yard, not with words, but with a warm cup of hot chocolate and a soft grin.
Saeyoung’s heart soars when he sees that Saeran has made a cup for you, too. He thinks he’ll never get tired of seeing his two favorite people continue to love and accept one another as family. It’s everything he’s ever wanted.
He finds himself in a completely different state now than when he had awoken this morning. He settles into the couch next to you, able to appreciate the cozy autumn decor that you’ve adorned the bunker with. He no longer feels like this place is stifling you, he understands that you’re grateful for the security the home provides you, and he feels grateful too.
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sunaswife · 4 years ago
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Summary: It’s been five years since you’ve seen your ex, Rin. He’s still not over you and you’re not over him. When he finds out you have children he thought he didn’t have a chance. Then he finds out they’re his? All of a sudden you’re teaching Suna how to be a single dad.
🔪: sorry this chapter is so shitty
Warnings: Fluff, angst I guess, drama, and cuteness twin overload
⚠️: smut included in this chapter
Previously Up Next Masterlist
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Chapter Fourteen
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“How much money did you give to Kita?” You asked, he looked at you for a brief moment before looking back at the road. “Enough for the food he gave us. Kita works hard to harvest and plant rice. He deserves to get paid at least something.” He replied and you slowly nodded your head in understanding. Chewy’s head popped up between you two and you rubbed under his chin with your free hand. Chewy’s tail wagged and he turned back around to join the kids.
The rest of the week was slightly better, Karin was still hesitant around you but you tried acting civilized the best you could. There was no more comments and she was grateful you changed the oil of her car and fixed her brakes. She also smacked Rin for being useless and not knowing how to do that but you waved it off and said that your older cousin showed you how to do it since you were alone at the time.
Now your little trip has ended and you have a a few more hours to go. You’ve allowed the kids to pick their songs during the journey but you desperately wanted to vibe with blink-182 and other classics. After a pit stop for a potty break for chewy and the kids you began your journey again. Once the beginning of I Miss You came on your kids whined, “But we wanted the moana soundtrack.” Akira whined. “You’ve chosen long enough, let us pick a few songs and then you can pick again.” You turned and they nodded with a small pout.
“Hello there the angel from my nightmare—“ you started off and Rin smiled softly. You’ve sang this song many times before when you both would go on dates, but your voice was always light so he could barely hear. But now you were more confident in your voice that you didn’t have a need to sing lightly. That’s another he loves about the new you. “I miss you, I miss you—sing Rin. This was one of your favorite songs!” You encouraged.
“I’m not gonna sing.” He immediately shook his head, “Come on don’t be a party pooper.” You shook his shoulder and asked again. “No I’m not gonna sing with yo—where are you, and I’m so sorry—“ he began to sing and you giggled.
“DONT WASTE YOUR TIME ON ME YOURE ALREADY THE VOICE INSIDE MY HEAD!” You and Rintarou belted out and Rini was bopping his head. Chewy was napping and Akira sighed and patted her tiny hands on her thighs to the beat. She didn’t wanna give in and vibe with the rest of the family.
Rini smiled softly as the next classic rock song came on and you and Rin bopped your heads to the beat. He was glad to know that Rin likes listening to old rock songs like how you do. This was exactly what he wanted.
Everything was going to plan.
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“Home sweet home!” Rin took a dramatic deep breath as Chewy began sniffing everything. You immediately began taking out the clothes from the luggage to wash the dirty ones. Rin made his way to his designated room and remembered that you offered up your old bedroom and used your office as your new bedroom. He objected and agreed to sleep on the couch and he even offered to share the bedroom (cheeky little shit) but you declined. When he made it to the room, the sheets were unmade and your clothes were tossed lazily in the hamper.
“Hey yn—“ he called, “Yeah?!” You replied from the living room, “We’re you using my room?” He asked and you wanted to slap yourself. You immediately stood up and made your way down the hall and almost slipped. “Yeah I’m sorry, I was just so tired so I just layed here since this bed is more comfortable then the couch and I was too lazy to pull out my couch bed—“ you began to ramble but was interrupted “yn, calm down it’s fine. I was just curious.” Rin chuckled and flicked your forehead. You rubbed your forehead with a small pout. “Out of curiosity what cologne do you use?” You asked and he turned with a smirk, “Why? Do you like the way I smell?” He asked and you squinted your eyes. “Obviously I like the smell of the cologne or else I wouldn’t be asking. The scent of the cologne lingered onto your pillows so I was able to sleep more at ease—” You bit back but stopped when you admitted your secret.
“Why didn’t you just say so? Ya know if we share a bed you can smell me all the time.” He said smoothly and you facepalmed, “Now you make it sound like I have a smell kink. I’m fine I just liked the cologne.” You said and turned around to continue washing the clothes. Rin frowned as he saw you leave, “Seriously Rin? You can smell me all the time? Your flirt game is way better then that.” Rin immediately scolded himself. After five years of not flirting with anyone, he’s lost his touch.
You made sure the uniforms for the kids were cleaned and you began making preparations for dinner. You were tired of all the traveling and you just wanted to rest, but mom duties never stop. “Hey don’t worry about dinner, I ordered takeout.” Rin leaned against the door frame. “You did?” You asked and he nodded. “From where?”
“Osamu’s.” “I knew it.” You chuckled and stretched your arms over your head. “Yeah, we definitely need to see a chiropractor.” You mumbled. “Next Tuesday when the kids are in school?” He asked, “Is this a weird way of asking me out on a date?”
“If I said date you’d say no, but it’s a...a parent hangout..day..?” He tilted his head and you patted his back. “Okay. We can go.” You nodded and he smiled. Little by little you’ll start to open up again.
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Rin did a peace sign and the kids followed suit while they were in the bus. Suna nudged you and you rolled your eyes and did a peace sign too as you saw the bus drive away. You and Rin both returned home after seeing them off and you both lazily sat on the couch. “Just an FYI, I’m finally going to start training with the team. Games will be coming up soon.” Rin said and you nodded. “What division?” You asked, “Division one.”
Your eyebrows widened and you smiled, “Wow look at you rockstar, you always used to slack off and now you’re in a division one team?” You said with a light punch and he smiled. “Yeah I took it more seriously my third year and I was scouted. Before I transferred I was in division one as well.” He explained. “Oh okay. That’s sick. Which team?” You asked, “EJP.” He replied and your mouth opened with a gasp. “With Komori Motoya? He’s one of my all time favorite players!” You exclaimed and his eyes squinted. Is motoya a threat?
“Don’t even give that look, I only appreciate him as a player. Even in highschool, I wished I could have saw him in person during nationals.” You admitted. “Whatever.” He sighed and layed back with his eyes closed. “I can’t get my hopes up that we’ll ever be together. I just hope you tell me soon because I don’t wanna hold on to us if you don’t even want me.” He mumbled. You frowned slightly, yeah you kinda seem like you’re leading him on. “It’s not that I don’t ever want us to be together. I mean I’ve been waiting this whole time. Deep inside I still love you after everything that happened but I’m scared Rin.” Your voice cracked and he immediately sat up and opened his eyes to see your figure. You were hugging your knees and your eyes were watery.
He scooted a bit closer, “What are you so afraid of?” He asked as he put some hair behind your ear. “I’m scared that the past will happen again. We’ll get into a fight and I leave, I don’t want the kids to go through that. They deserve loving parents and I like this system we have, we’re friends and cool co parents. If we add romance it’ll probably ruin everything.” You began to cry, Rin stayed quiet for a bit as you let it out. “But how will we know if we don’t try? I obviously love you—“ “And I obviously love you too but—“
You were silenced when you felt warm and slightly chapped lips against your own, just like back then. Your arms reached for his face and you deepened the kiss purely on emotion. Tears still streamed down your face and you missed this, you truly did. He may have seemed so bored and deadpanned back then but in privacy and in each others company he was a perfect Prince Charming, so gentle and soft when needed. His right hand was holding the back of your head and he felt your soft hair tangle between his calloused fingers.
He missed this just as much or if not even more. Eventually you both pulled away to breath but you initiated the next kiss, and the next one and next one. It’s been so long since you’ve kissed another person let alone made out, same with Rin. He’s just as touch starved. Your cardigan slid off your shoulders and soon enough Rin’s shirt disappeared but you stopped. You rubbed your eyes slightly and looked into his eyes, “Are you sure you want to try again?” You asked and he nodded. “Of course I do.” He said as he hand rested on your cheek. You leaned into his touch and he smiled softly. “You?” He asked, you bit your bottom lip and nodded.
“Yes.”
He pulled you to him, you sat on his thighs and your arms rested on his shoulders, his lips moved to your jaw down your neck to your collarbone. His large hands reached to your waist and under your shirt but you grabbed his hands and he stopped before he could even ask for permission. “Is something wrong?” He asked, “I’m just a bit insecure..I’m not that skinny girl from back then, I have stretch marks and my boobs are a bit saggy, I have a bit of fat and I don’t want you to be disgusted.” You said lowly. “Why are you ashamed? It’s normal. Don’t you see this?” He asked and pointed to his upper arm near his arm pit. “I get stretch marks too. You’re not the only one. And who cares if you gained a little bit fat? You’re still beautiful. Your boobs are beautiful. Everything about you is beautiful. I didn’t fall for you because you were hot or athletic or anything. I began falling for you because of who you are. Not because of your appearance. Also you’re still fucking hot, my own little milf.” He smirked and kissed your lips once more. “I hate you.” You mumbled against his lips.
“You won’t hate me after this.” He replied back and grinded you over his crotch, you moaned and he sighed. Your hands moved from his shoulders to his abs and you felt all his muscle. Compared to back then he was more of a noodle but now he’s really buff.
You slid your hand down past the waist band of his gym shorts, following his happy trail. It didn’t take long for you to find his cock and Rin leaned back with his eyes closed. “You certainly feel bigger, then the last time I remembered.” You said out loud and he released a small chuckle. You finally looked down and yeah, you could definitely tell the difference. His swollen red tip was already releasing precum and your thumb grazed over, earning a whimper from Rintarou. “Someone seems a little sensitive..” you hummed. “S-shut up.” He moaned as you pumped his cock. You looked up to see his face and you couldn’t help but giggle. “Wow what a switch from back then. Remember when I was a poor little virgin and so inexperienced? You took control and look at us now. You’re so sensitive when I’ve barley done anything.” You told him. “I haven’t had sex in five years.” He defended and finally opened his eyes, his brows were scrunched and you tilted your head to the side. “I haven’t had sex either but I’ve had my fair share of mommy time when I release my stress with the help of toys.” You replied and his hips arched slightly.
He could feel himself getting close with the thought of you touching yourself and saving yourself for him and only him. Nobody else has ever touched you. You’re perfect. “S-stop I’m close.” He warned but you continued and pressed your lips behind his ear. His grip tightened on your waist and he quickly pulled your hand away. Before you knew it you fell on the floor with Rin towering over you. Your hands were trapped over your head and you pouted. “No fun, you never let me be on top.” “I suggest you shut your mouth and let me fuck you stupid.” Your eyes widened at his choice of words and his hand slowly made their way under your camisole. He pulled the shirt up and saw your delicious breasts trapped inside your bra cups. Your face flushed as you saw his eyes darken. “R-Rin..” you mumbled and he looked up. “Take off my shirt.” He obeyed and pulled you up, the camisole came off with one swift motion and he pulled you close to unclip your bra. His lips kissed your shoulder, down your collarbone and between your breasts. “Lay down.” So you did. He pulled your tights off along with your underwear and finally you were completely bare beneath him in the middle of the living room. At least Chewy was outside. “Protection?” Rin asks as he slides off his shorts. “Birth control.” You replied and he breathed a sigh a relief. “Okay cool I don’t have condoms.” He said and you chuckled. Rin slowly opened your legs and drooled at the sight of you. “So fucking pretty I swear. How do you do it? You popped out two kids and you still take my breath away.” He said and kissed you before you could answer or process what he said.
His tip slowly moved up and down your slit, you weren’t wet enough and he’d rather die then hurt you so he slowly inserted two fingers causing you to gasp against his lips. His thumb rubbed your clit while his large and very long fingers pistoned in and out of your wet cunt. The pleasure you felt and loved he poured in made your eyes watery. You just love Rintarou so much. “Don’t cry love, am I hurting you?” He slowly stopped. “N-no, I just love you so much. Fuck I love you with my whole heart.” You said and he chuckled and increased his pace with his fingers, he saw your eyes clench and how your covered your mouth. He immediately pulled your hand away and you couldn’t help but cum when he told you to cum. “I love you so much that porn doesn’t work for me anymore. I always imagined you in order to get off.” He replied. “Always thinking with your cock.” “You love this cock.” “Hmm those toys I have are pretty nic—fuck .”
He bottomed out without going in slowly causing you to grip his upper arms. “Jerk—just cause you’re salty doesn’t give you a reason to treat me like a rag doll.” You looked down between your bodies where you both connected. “But you’ve been teasing me and need a punishment. Handle it like a good girl yeah?” He asked as he pulled out and slammed back in earning a loud moan from you. In all honesty he felt better then any toy you’ve used. People say missionary is overrated but they’re probably not doing it right. He left bruises down your neck and with each thrust his grip tightened on your waist. The rug beneath was hurting your back and you managed to flip Rin over, leaving him speechless. You slowly sat on his cock and he stayed silent watching you on top. You raised your hips and went back down, you leaned your head back as you slowly found a rythem and began bouncing on Rin’s cock.
Rin loved the view of you holding your breasts and squeezing them together while you bounced. Your little moans and whimpers will always be his favorite sound and it didn’t take long for him to grip your upper thighs and thrust himself up leaving you speechless (literally). Soon enough you both came and chewy was crying and scratching the outside of the sliding door so he can come inside. Rin held your limp body in his arms and helped you in the tub. Warm water surrounded you and Rin left to do something and after a good five minutes he came back. He slid in the tub behind you and immediately wrapped his arms around you. “I’m happy I can do this with you.” He spoke softly, “Me too...I’m sure the kids will be happy.” You leaned your head back on his shoulder and looked up. “Yeah, it’s pretty obvious what they were doing.” Rin said and you both chuckled. “They’re our little matchmakers.” You hummed and Rin nodded. You both heard Chewy barking and assumed it was just the mailman outside but all of a sudden the door of the bathroom flung open and there Hana and Jamie were looking at you both with such shocked expressions. You eyes widened when they gasped and Rin covered yourself with his arms. “I-I can explain—“ “FINALLY!” Jamie yelled but Hana rubbed her temples. “Is this just casual or a serious thing?” She asked, “Serious thing.” Rin spoke up and she nodded. “Um....I’ll go make some snacks since the kids should be coming home soon and we need to talk.” Hana said awkwardly and reached to close the door. You could both hear Jamie rant about how happy she was that you both were together. “Well that was awkward..” Rin said and you laughed, “Yeah they’re like that..” you said as you both began to properly wash yourselves. When both you and Rin changed and did an awkward walk of shame to the living room. The couple was waiting for you. You both sat on the couch and waited for what Jamie was about to say. Chewy jumped on the couch and rested his head on your thighs, “First off, I apologize for the intrusion. You weren’t answering your calls or texts so we immediately got worried and came over. And second, Rintarou if you break her heart I will break your face. Try to hurt her and I’ll get the best lawyers of Japan to go against you, okay?” She said. Rin gulped and nodded, “Yeah I get that..” he spoke up, “And third, I’m going to the US for about a month.” Hana said and you tilted your head confused, “But Jamie’s due date is soon.. you won’t be here when she goes into labor.” You said, “I know but...my next client is picky and important. I wanted to stay but even Jamie is pushing me to go.” “I just want an autograph. Our baby can wait till you come back.” Jamie said and you tried not to laugh. It was an obvious Jamie thing to say. “That being said, I don’t want her being left alone. We have midwives but they can’t be with her 24/7.” She said. “She’s more then welcomed to stay here, I’ll help her with whatever I can.” You said and then turned, “Sorry I forget it’s not just my home anymore. What do you think Rin?”
“It shouldn’t even be a question. I’m sure this is a scary thing and I’ll help too. Plus it’ll be good practice for when yn gets pregnant .” Rin sighed and wrapped his arm over your shoulder but you elbowed his stomach. He winced and the girls couldn’t help but laugh. “So it’s settled?” Hana asked, “Of course!” You smiled.
“I leave tomorrow.”
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Still Like the Letters in Your Name and How They Feel, Babe | Five Hargreeves
✦ pairing — Five Hargreeves x female!Plus Size Reader
✦ word count — 3.4k
✦ modern AU
✦ loosely based on the song Still Feel Like Your Man by John Mayer.
✦ summary — you get snowed in with your ex-boyfriend.
✦ warnings — angst, mentions of alcohol, language, fluff, dry humping.
✦ author’s note — the lovely @ohdangitsjay wanted me to write dry humping with Five for kinktober but the slot was taken already so I decided to add some of it here.
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Parties weren’t Five’s thing, much less work parties. He would have skipped the event if he hadn’t gotten a promotion less than four months ago.
He always sat on his own, not interested in his coworkers’ lives. He knew more than he needed already, not only because of their loose tongues but because they were open books.
He would’ve rather been at his place, alone like he had been spending his time for the past months.
“You know, I’ve always wanted to get close to you.”
Five lifted his head out of courtesy, he had recognized his coworker’s voice immediately. She was pretty, he could admit that, but he had read her intentions months ago and he wasn’t interested. “Mmhmm. I know.”
“I’d like to get to know you.”
“I’m good, thanks.”
He felt buzzing in his pants and he didn’t know whether to thank whoever was calling or kill them for bothering him now. Lifting a hand so the woman in front of him wouldn’t speak furthermore, he withdrew his cellphone from his pocket.
Vanya’s photo almost blinded him. He cursed — he hadn’t lowered the screen brightness like a fucking idiot.
Excusing himself, he pushed his way out of the venue. Letting the phone ring in his grasp, allowing himself to take in a deep breath of fresh air, he stood under the cold night.
Vanya insisted which confused him, she always knew when to stop bothering him. And that night, even his coworker insisted. He shook his head as he saw her walk out of the venue, wrapped in her coat.
Taking the call just to avoid her, he grunted, “What?” He pinched the bridge of his nose as Vanya explained that she needed him to pick you up from a bar. Thinking the worst, he exhaled, “I’ll be there in ten.”
“Leaving so soon?”
“Not soon enough, it seems.” He dropped his phone in his coat this time. His coworker’s expression of hurt didn’t faze him, but he still explained himself, “Look, you’re not the problem, it’s just that I know your intentions and I’m taken.”
Five had never wished a lie he had told was true until now. He wasn’t taken anymore, but he was still yours, at least he felt like that. He’d never find another you, and he wasn’t sure he was ready to start looking either.
Tugging his car open, he withdrew his cellphone from his coat and slid into the driver seat. Five introduced the key into the clutch, yet he didn’t ignite the engine.
He drummed his fingers against the steering wheel, considering the option of turning his phone off and coming up with an excuse days later. But he didn’t have it in him, not this time when he had a chance to see you — so many days after the morning you left.
The quicker he got it over with, the quicker he would be able to drown himself in alcohol to pretend it hadn’t happened.
His sister was already waiting for him near the entrance of the bar. Vanya turned her head to the side. Five followed the movement with his eyes and ultimately you came into vision. Only you would wear a dress in this weather, always claiming you never got cold.
He knew it wasn’t true, but you were stubborn. His siblings often said he wouldn’t have been so smitten if you weren’t as stubborn and they were right, he liked the challenge. And although he would never admit this out loud, he liked giving in to your stubbornness. He missed it.
You hadn’t realized he was there, head on your friend’s shoulder as they all talked. He could tell how drunk you were just by the lazy position of your hand on your lap.
“Why can’t you take her home?”
“No, God, no! You misunderstood what I said, Five. I need you to take her with you.”
Five gave his sister an incredulous look, hoping she was joking. When he realized Vanya was serious, he shook his head. “You know she hates me.”
“She doesn’t hate you. Besides, she’s drunk out of her mind, she might hug you instead of breaking your nose.”
He glared at her. Although his nose was more than fine, that punch hurt.
“Please? For me? I haven’t spent enough time with Sissy in weeks.”
“Too much information, Vanya!” he chastised, shaking his head as he walked past his sister.
It bordered on cruel, having you so close and knowing you would’ve been against it if you knew he was there.
Vanya placed a hand on his shoulder, not reassuring whatsoever as he defeatedly sighed. Only the two of you could convince him to do anything, and his sister still used it to her advantage.
He stood before you and your friends. Chatter died, you didn’t react. His eyes crossed your closest friend’s after Vanya, and as she nodded downward he understood that everybody thought you would be safer with him.
“Come on, (Name),” he said softly, hoping you wouldn’t make a scene.
You turned your head to the side, facing him. His breath faltered. Frowning, you just stared, mind too hazy to come up with a question to blurt even though a few crossed it.
How was work? Did Grace like the jacket you got for her? Are we going home soon?
He nudged his head to the side, signaling toward the exit. “Come on, you’ve got things to do tomorrow.”
Your friends tensed at his comment, but he didn’t think much of the gesture.
Sissy handed him your coat, watching him carefully. Five held the coat for you to slide your arms in, and out of habit helped you to fold it close and button it up.
You interlocked your arm with his, head lulling toward his shoulder. Vanya shoved your purse into his chest, prompting him to hold it in his hand as he gave her a final nod in goodbye.
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You woke up in an all too familiar room. Absolutely nothing had changed, the walls were the same blue walls you had stared at for hours as you waited for someone who cared more about their job than their girlfriend to get back from work.
By the looks of it, Five had been so busy that he didn't even have time to get rid of things you had gifted him. They were in the place they had been the last time you visited him — books stacked up, music records leaned against the other... the painting you had helped him choose still hung over his desk.
“Ah, you’re awake." His voice made you jump. "Coffee? An aspirin?”
You shuffled, pushing the duvet off your body in order to leave the bed. “Why am I here?”
The cold floor made you shiver. You searched for your shoes, looking down as you inwardly cursed yourself for wearing a dress when Vanya told you not to.
“You don’t remember going out last night? Vanya called me.” He tilted his head as he asked, frowning.
“Yes,” you deadpanned, slipping your shoes on before lifting your head to look at him. “But why didn’t you take me home?”
He winced. “Well, Vanya needed the apartment to herself.”
Dragging your eyes off him, not able to look at his face for too long, you whined, ”Unbelievable! She ditched me to get some pussy!”
Realizing your purse had been on the bed all this time, you popped it open and withdrew your phone. You looked at the time and your eyes widened. “Fuck, fuck. I’ll be late!”
“You’re not going anywhere.”
Your gaze snapped in his direction. He looked so serious that it made your blood boil. “Excuse me? Who do you think you are to tell me what to do?”
He groaned. “We’re snowed in, idiot.”
“No, no, no... this can’t be happening. Not to me. Not today.” You stood by the window and peered out. He hadn’t lied, the streets were covered in white as snow, which was still falling, piled up. You would’ve found the scenery gorgeous if you weren’t so stressed. “FUCK!”
Only you had such bad luck... getting snowed in with your ex-boyfriend today from all days.
“I’m sure your mom will understand,” he tried to assure you.
In any other instance you would’ve found it sweet that he remembered you visited your mom every Saturday, or that he was trying to comfort you.
You corrected him, “I have a date today.”
“Oh.”
Unlocking your cellphone, you scrolled down your contact list. Your finger hovered over the call button. What would you say? ‘Hey, I’m sorry I can’t meet up with you today, I’m stuck in my ex-boyfriend’s apartment’?
Seeing your exasperation as you went through your phone, he painfully said, “Don’t be dramatic, your date must understand you can’t control the weather.”
“We had been putting this off for a while,” you confided him like you used to when he was your best friend, back when he hadn’t broken your heart yet and he still had time for you. “He’s so nice and sweet... “ you trailed off before sighing, “I was hoping not to ruin it.”
“Why didn’t Vanya call him if he’s so sweet?” he asked, voice laced with venom. He was challenging you to lie to him.
Honestly, you answered, “I’m guessing she doesn’t trust him.”
A shiver ran through you, prompting you to rub your arms.
Five walked toward his closet and opened the doors. “You left some clothes here, I’m sure you can find something in case you want to take a shower or get changed... ah! Your red sweatshirt is in the laundry room.”
Unable to keep it in, you shrieked, “You lent my clothes to other people?!”
“Don’t be stupid,” he said, no malice in his tone, “I wore it myself.” Turning around, finding it hard to read your expression, he blurted, “Once.”
You did find something to wear, and for the second time that day, you felt as though nothing had changed. Nothing made more sense than having a space for your own clothes in his closet.
You entrenched yourself in the bathroom as soon as possible. Being around him was worse than you ever anticipated, you wanted to be angry and hostile yet you were too emotionally exhausted for that.
Failed interpersonal relationships were your norm. The day you met Vanya you felt as though you were having a friend for the first time; then Five came around and became your best friend, your confidant. Having him around used to be easy, even when you developed feelings for him.
The day you left him was one of the hardest days of your life. You didn’t cry, only numbness enveloped you in a tight grip — a grip you had gotten free from a little too late.
Your friends tried introducing you to people multiple times, but it never worked. It wasn’t because of Five, not entirely, you simply weren’t good with new people. And you missed Five, but that was different.
Missing him had become an afterthought, work kept you busy in the same stupid way it kept him. Guilt never took over you, why would it when you hadn’t neglected anyone because of your job? In fact, you were sure you would get over him soon when work became your priority.
Until a few minutes ago, the illusion had been good. What a sweet lie you told yourself for weeks and weeks.
You regretted entering the shower the second you turned around to grab some shampoo. Tears prickled your eyes the moment they fell on a familiar bottle. It didn’t have any marks of use, not a single gram dripped down the bottle, dry product was nowhere to be seen around the cap.
You confirmed that the bottle was brand new when you tested its weight in your grasp. A sob escaped you. Why would he keep your favorite shampoo in his shower?
You couldn’t bring yourself to use it, so instead, you grabbed Five’s shampoo and squeezed some onto your palm.
After a tear-ridden shower, you quickly got dressed and stood behind the door for a prolonged moment.
A heavy silence greeted you as you stepped into the living room. You had expected the sound of fingers against a keyboard or page flipping, but instead, you found Five slouched over his stomach with a piece of red fabric on his lap.
Feeling your presence, he murmured, “Here.” Five offered you the sweatshirt which you took hesitantly.
“I don’t use that shampoo anymore,” you blurted before you could process the words your entire being was desperate for him to hear.
He hummed, avoiding your face at every cost as he stared past you. He really needed to decorate the living room, at least a little bit. “You found a better one?”
“No,” you mumbled. Sliding the sweatshirt on, you waited for him to say something. Five didn’t, he stayed in the same position until you sat down beside him.
As he twisted his body to face you and his eyes landed on your face, you were able to see he had been crying too.
“What did your date say?” he asked, ever the masochist one.
You shrugged. “I haven’t texted him.”
“You should at least call your mom. Tell her you’re safe.”
Nodding slowly, you then turned your face to the other side. He didn’t mean anything more than exactly what he said and yet your heart thumped in your chest at a rhythm you had forgotten it was able to beat.
“She misses you. The whole family does.”
“Tell them I miss them too. Please.”
You sniffed, bolting off the couch. Walking into his bedroom, you tried to ignore the strong smell of his cologne as you blindly palmed the bed in search of your phone.
“Are you okay?”
Tears didn’t allow you to see him properly, but you could tell he was leaning on the doorway.
“I don’t want to talk about anything,” you warned him, scared a fight would ensue if you spoke your mind. “My head hurts.”
You heard him move around the room, opening and closing a drawer. Then you felt him close, so close his breath fanned on the side of your face as he spoke, “It’s paracetamol, it’ll be gentler with your stomach.”
Blinking the tears away, you faced him — this time fully. Opening your palm, you waited for him to drop the pill onto it. Five looked down, softly placing the white circle on your palm.
Closing your fist around the pill, you threw your arms all over his neck. Taken by surprise, he felt his hands tremble as he placed them on your lower back.
Nothing extraordinary happened, and you loved it. He was just as warm as you remembered, and you were as comfortable in his arms this time as you had been before.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, careful not to move you too harshly as he pulled you onto his chest, “so, so, so sorry. You can’t even imagine how stupid I feel.”
“Shhh, it’s fine.”
“We both know it isn’t.”
“Don’t wanna talk,” you reminded him.
So he hugged you tighter. And once again, it felt like nothing had changed — because nothing had, because the idea of moving on was nice on paper and nothing more.
“I’m pretty sure the pill melted in my hand...”
He snorted, begrudgingly parting from you. “I’ll get you some water and another one.”
You stared at your reflection in the mirror as you washed your hands and immediately splashed water onto your face. It was cold, but that was exactly what you were looking for in attempts to make your face less puffy after all that crying.
Five watched you in silence, ready to give you the pill and the glass.
Drying your hands, you thanked him and then proceeded to take the glass from his hand.
“Don’t go out with him,” Five pleaded, unable to keep it in for longer. “I don’t deserve it, but please give me a second chance.”
You glared at him as you snatched the pill from his open palm. Instead of giving him an answer, you swallowed the pill.
He took this as a sign that you needed more convincing. “I promise I’ll spend every second of my free time with you.”
You lowered the glass before you could take another sip of water, scoffing as you walked toward the window once again. “Oh, come on, Five, I never asked for that. I just wanted you to put some effort.”
“I’ll do that, then. Anything.”
“Can you really do that?”
“Yes.”
You nodded, placing the glass down onto the bedside table. You were always so eager to believe in him... you could only hope this time your heart didn’t end up in tiny pieces. “It’s obvious that I don’t need much convincing.”
“That’s fine by me.” Five shrugged, looking down at his hands.
You grabbed his hands, making him look at you. He intertwined your fingers with his, biting his bottom lip as you lifted your eyebrows.
He huffed a laugh upon realizing you were waiting for him to kiss you and for a millisecond considered teasing you, but you knew him so well that you had seen through his nervous demeanor.
Leaning in, he stared into your eyes in search for permission. You tilted your head, brushing your nose with his, fanning your breath on his lips. Five’s mouth met yours in the middle, slowly at the beginning.
You let go of his hands, snaking your arms around his neck to bring him closer. His hands found home on your waist, just as he picked up his pace.
As a moan slid past your lips, he slipped his tongue in your mouth. Five moved one of his hands to the back of your neck, deepening the kiss.
Breathless, you were forced to barely push him away. You stared at his red lips as you gasped for air, ragged breath mingling with his own.
And then his lips were on yours again. The hand on the back of your head fell to your spine as he walked you backward. Five laid you on the bed, careful not to hurt you yet never taking his lips off yours.
Pressing kisses on the side of your neck, he roughly grabbed your hips, making you moan as his hard-on was pressed against your crotch.
Your hips worked against his in sync, so naturally that you still had half a mind to wonder how the fuck you had lasted this long without him all over you.
Five’s groans grew deliciously deep as his hands trailed down to massage your thighs. His mouth sucked on your neck as he pulled you flush against him.
You inwardly thanked whichever God existed for the cold weather. Not only did Five look amazing in sweatpants, but the soft material allowed you to feel the outline of his hard cock even through your leggings as he humped you.
“Would really love to fuck you,” you panted, “but there’s no way I’m taking my clothes off right now. I’m freezing!“
He laughed against your skin. One of his hands left your thigh and he tugged on the covers, draping them over both of you, covering yourselves from head to toes.
Five continued to kiss your neck, still moving his hips against yours albeit more slowly.
“I missed you,” he spoke before you could mutter a teasing comment about how desperate he was for you.
You played with the small hairs on the back of his head, humming as you rocked up against him. “I missed you too. But don’t let it get to your head.”
“Too late,” he said cheekily, letting his weight fall on top of you as he leaned into your touch.
You relaxed against the mattress as his warmth combined with the shielding covers seeped through you. Five slipped an arm under your head, fingers brushing your neck as his other hand came up to softly grip your face.
You hummed in acknowledgment, knowing he wanted to say something.
“We didn’t call your mom.”
You breathed out a small laugh. “I wasn’t supposed to see her today, don’t worry.”
He tensed over you, frowning as he processed what you had just said. Deciding to ignore the fact that you were probably planning to hook up with your date, Five slowly lowered his head so it would rest on your chest.
It didn’t matter what you had planned to do when you were there under him. He was still your man, he had felt as such ever since the day you met — and he wouldn’t fuck it up a second time.
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constancelaufeydottir · 3 years ago
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Help me, help you
Pairing: Bucky x reader
Word count: 3.1k
Warnings: Attempted suicide, mentions of mental illness and eating disorders, angst, fluff(?)
Summary: You seek help from the stranger who saved you the night you sought for an escape, maybe you weren’t the only one who needs saving.
A/N: This is my first ever fic here! I’ve never written anything before and I’m really anxious to put this out here, please bear with me if I make any grammatical mistakes and let me know what you think!
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You probably shouldn’t be doing this. They said you’d disappoint your family and people around you would be sad. But the water, it’s tempting. A dive, and your problems would be gone.
To be honest, you don’t think you family cares at all. They’ve got bigger things to worry about, you sister’s engagement, your brother’s enrolment in college. After all, you were the unwanted kid, an accident. The only time you caught your parents’ attention was when you butchered your job interview. You had prepared thoroughly but a stomach bug ruined it all and your parents blamed you for it, saying they always knew you were a failure, a disgrace to the family.
They didn’t even ask where you were going tonight. They never cared unless you had big achievements in your life or maybe when your failure was too huge for them to ignore.
The sloshing of the water is luring you to jump into it. The deep dark waters inviting you to join the others who had succeeded before you. You moved your feet a little towards the edge of the railings, embracing the chilling midnight wind as you closed your eyes. This is the end, you thought, your foot dangling over the railings ready to plummet into the river.
You felt an arm circling your waist and pulling you backwards until your back hit the ground, a palm caging the back of your head, preventing it from hitting the hard ground.
“Ma’am, are you alright?” You heard a deep voice coming from the right side of your body, hands were on your shoulders gently shaking. You blinked a few times, the blinding lights made you wince as you closed your eyes again with your hand shielding them.
The man who saved you helped you sat up, kneeling beside you to ensure your safety. You took time to have a close look at the good Samaritan. His hair was long, stopping a little lower down his ears. Eyes was the colour of the ocean, almost enticing as the water. His chin adorned with a scruffy beard, lips curving in a small smile. If it weren’t for your bad mood right now, you would have joked that he looked like a modern version of Jesus.
“Why?” You whispered, so quietly if not for his enhance hearing, the man wouldn’t have heard you. “Why did you save me?” You cried out, hands trembling as they grasped the collar of his bomber jacket. Your teary face surprised him and your sniffles made his heart tightened.
“I- I can’t let you die!” He exclaimed. The tears in your eyes spilled out again as you collapsed into the stranger’s chest, crying your heart out. He felt the vulnerability in your voice and hugged you tighter, palms meeting behind you and patted your back to comfort you.
You didn’t know how long you sat there crying in the man’s arms. Your tears soaked the dark red Henley underneath his jacket, causing it to stick onto his firm chest but he did not utter a single word, instead opting to calm you down.
You had no idea how you got home, except for the fact that you vaguely recalled ending up in the arms of a certain stranger, the rest was a blur.
You woke up on the couch the next morning, your phone alarm blaring. The hard rectangular metal was digging the soft flesh of your butt and you groggily dig it out of your back pocket turning the alarm off.
There was a sweet smell of pancake wafted from the kitchen and you sniffed at the smell, face scrunching when you didn’t remember having someone over. The thought of someone unfamiliar inviting themselves into your house alarmed you and your hastily got up from the couch, a pillow in your hand as you inched slowly towards the kitchen. Peeking your head around the corner, you found a tall and broad figure in the space, hands fumbling around with something. You couldn’t see clearly who that was, your glasses were in your bedroom the last time your saw it.
You knew the stranger in your house could never be your brother because one, he was an asshole who gave no fucks about his sister’s life and two, your both hated each other’s guts. Your breath quickened as the intruder suddenly turned his head towards your direction. You yelped as you threw the pillow at him, or the general direction where he was standing.
Of course, you missed the target when he walked towards you. “Shit, I’m gonna die, I’m gonna die.” You shut your eyes as you heard his footsteps getting closer and closer to you.
“Hey, you’re awake!” You squinted at the man, trying to make out the features of his blurry face. He looked oddly like the guy who saved you on the bridge last night. He moved closer to you when he realized you couldn’t see him clearly. Your eyes widen at the sudden close proximity, your lips were slightly parted. You could feel his breath against your face, his long lashes and that steel blue eyes.
“Y-you!” Instantly, you were conscious of your own appearance, your eyes must have been puffy from last night’s non-stop crying. There were probably still dried tears on your face. Adverting your gaze from his, you looked to the side as you slid out of the slightly awkward situation. Walking towards the counter, you pulled out a wet tissue and wiped your stiff face with it then retrieving the cold spoons you kept in the freezer.
He laughed when you put the spoons on your eyes, you sighed at the cool sensation soothing the puffiness of your eyelids. “Don’t laugh. It’s effective,” you glared at him.
“Alright, alright.” He threw his hands up. “I’m Bucky,” his hand extended outward, waiting for you to shake it. “Y/N.” He smiled, eyes crinkled as you reciprocate the gesture.
He cooked you breakfast, although it was a simple one, you were still grateful.
“Thank you for last night,” you gave him a genuine smile as he was seated across you on the dining table, stuffing his mouth with the pancakes. “It’s nice to see that someone cares.” This time you smile didn’t quite reach your eyes and he caught it.
Grabbing your hand across the table, he looked at you in the eyes with sincerity. “It’s the least I could do.” Taking a deep breath, cautiously he spoke up. “Y/N, I know it’s not my place to say this but seek for professional help if you aren’t feeling fine. Maybe just talk to someone or … go see a therapist.”
“Are you insinuating that I have depression?” You scoffed. Your eyebrows furrowed in annoyance as you snatched your hand from his grasp and crossed your arms in front of your chest defensively.
Depression? No, you couldn’t have had depression. It’s a sign of weakness, you father said. Depression is just a fancy term to describe one’s laziness, that’s what your mother told you.
“I’m not insinuating anyt-”
“Get out,” you interrupted, “get out of my house!” Enraged, you pointed towards the door while snapping at him. How dare he, a stranger suggested that there was something wrong with you.
Sighing, Bucky gave you a taut smile while nodding then placed a piece of paper on the coffee table on his way out. “Here’s my number in case you needed any help.” He paced towards the door opening it, giving you a last glance before leaving.
It’s been weeks now since you yelled at Bucky to get out of your house. You felt bad and deep down there you knew he was right, but the stigma surrounding mental illnesses was extremely terrifying to you. Not to mention what will happen if your family found out. You were a major disappointment in your household already and you definitely wouldn’t want to add a mental illness into the mix.
You were sitting in your office, typing on the keyboard furiously. Honestly you didn’t know why you were still here. This job sucks, even though the salary was high and you’d just been promoted to manager of the department. Chewing on your nails and bouncing your legs under the desk, you felt the need to just leave everything and go home.
The drive home was painful, you simply had no energy to do so but you still had to go home, your only safe place. Taking off your shoes, changing out your clothes, you lied on the bed. Your stomach grumbled, protesting at the lack of food in your system but you just couldn’t get yourself off the bed to make something for yourself. Your mind travelled back to the day you were on that bridge. You didn’t actually seek for death, all you sought for was an escape. An escape from reality, from your parents, from the constant judgements of people surrounding you.
As you closed your eyes, you wished that tomorrow never comes.
Another day, another disappointment. You were still alive, and the world seemed a wee bit duller than before. Skipping breakfast, you went to work as usual, plastering the faux smile on your face which everybody seemed to liked and expected from you. In this workplace, everybody’s gotta put on a façade and that included you but you dreaded the day where there would be a crack in your mask. Until then, you just had to work harder to reinforce it because according to your parents, nobody would want to see the real you, it was unpleasant … and ugly.
“I gotta say. Miss Y/L/N, you are spectacular. Being one of the Y/L/N, I bet it was a lot of pressure but you have done such amazing job, I think your parents would be so proud of you.” A client who was a family friend was seated across you, a wide grin on her face as her face crinkled rambling about how lucky you were being born into a family filled with successful people.
You smiled and thank her for her compliments, cutting the steak your ordered into bite-size pieces. Poking into one of the pieces with your fork, you lifted it up to your lips. Taking a deep breath, you put it into your mouth and instantly you felt like you were about to throw up. Fighting the urge to spit it out, you endured the taste of the meat as you bite at it mechanically. Looking down at your plate of steak, you no longer feel the appetite to consume any more of it.
Everyday you woke up, you wondered how long would it be until the colours faded into grey. Perhaps it was the only thing keeping you alive right now, counting the days until the beautiful hue of the sunsets no longer amazes you; the sight of puppies doesn’t excite you; the thought of having ice cream whenever you can no longer sounds appealing to you.
You should get some help, you really should. Your body was deteriorating, you could feel it. You weren’t in denial anymore; you knew there was something gravely wrong about you. Your body couldn’t afford being in denial. The loss of radiance in your face, the hair and weight loss and most importantly, you couldn’t put on a façade anymore.
Bucky rushed towards your apartment when you called, he could hear how shaky your voice was. He was extremely worried the past weeks even though he had only met you once. Maybe it was because he was in that dark place before and was able to relate or maybe he took a liking to you. He found himself constantly wondering whether you were well and how long would it take for your stubborn ass to call him.
He arrived at your place as fast as he could, probably drove past a few red lights but he couldn’t care less. He was more worried about you that the fine he would have to pay.
Bucky stormed past the hallway, straight to your unit and knocked on the door when he couldn’t open it. He received no response from you and his mind immediately went straight to the negative thoughts. His heart raced as he banged on the door, shouting your name several times.
He was about to break his way into your apartment when he saw the door opened slightly, your tired eyes meeting his concerned ones. He made his way into the space and immediately got the wind knocked out of him when you hurled yourself into his chest.
“Imsorryimsorryimsorry.” You kept chanting your apologies as you broke down in his embrace. You felt as if you were floating in the middle of the ocean succumbing into nothingness and he was the anchor, helping you to stay in one place. He was a mere stranger to you yet he witnessed every vulnerable side of you, if only your family could share the same level of concern as he did.
“Shh, shh. I’m here now,” he guided both of you to the couch with you still tightly in his arms, smoothing a palm on your back gently patting you. You hiccupped, eyes teary while you tried to calm yourself down. The tears however would not co-operate, it was like a broken faucet and no matter what you try it wouldn’t fix itself. “I’m really sorry for lashing out last time.”
He didn’t say anything, only wiped your tears with the sleeve of his sweater instead. Maybe it was the fatigue of crying too much or the absence of food in your body, you drifted into sleep in his arms while he hummed songs to you.
You woke up in the middle of the night when you heard the heavy breaths of the man. Half awake, you blindly reach out for your glasses on the night stand, vision clearer as you saw the door to your bedroom was wide opened. Getting on your feet, you moved towards the source of the noises carefully and realized it came from Bucky who was now thrashing on the couch in your living room.
He was groaning, clutching at his left arm painfully as if it was burned. A sheen of sweat could be seen on his forehead, strays of hair sticking onto the sides of his face. The front of his wife beater clung onto his chest soaked by perspiration. His groans soon turned into agonizing screams as he tossed and turned on your couch. You noticed webs of burn scars littering the expanse of his left shoulder to his arm and felt your heart tightened at the sight of it.
You hastily knelt in front of the couch, hand gripping on his shoulder and his face. “Bucky! Bucky!” His eyes shot open at your voice, flinching at the sight of you. Hands balled into fists in front of his chest, he was ready to take on any attack coming at his way. He visibly relaxed when he broke out of the haze, pushing his hair back with his hand with a bashful look on his face.
His muscles tensed when your hand reached out to his shoulder, but then slackened when you pulled him into a hug. His head fell onto your shoulder as you patted on his back like how he did for you just a few hours ago, ignoring the sweat gliding down his skin.
It must have been hours; the two of you sitting there in an embrace on your couch, not wanting to let each other go after what you both have been through. No one spoke a word and there was only silence in the large apartment of yours. The faint ray of sunlight peeked through the blinds, gleaming into your apartment reminding you to start the day.
He was the one who broke the hug, an awkward silence now surrounding the both of you. “Thank you … for helping me, even though I was supposed to be the one helping you,” his voice was raspy from the groans and moans. “It’s … uh nothing,” you shrugged, dragging your worn body to make some hot chocolate for him even though your body was screaming for you to lay in the bed, rotting your day away.
Your hands trembled as you passed him the mug. “Where’s yours?” Your head tilted at his question, not quite sure what he was asking about.
“Y/N, how long have you not eaten anything?” You turned your head away, not meeting his determined gaze. You wished he didn’t catch the glint of guilt in your eyes, but you knew he did.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He clenched his jaw at your statement.
“You called me, Y/N. You called me because you need help and I can’t help you if you’re not honest with me.” You gulped at his words. His eyebrows were furrowed and it triggered a fear in you; you didn’t want to disappoint him like you did to your parents.
Your lips quivered a little, eyes darting to the carpet. “I couldn’t find the energy to eat, it’s just too much work. These days it’s either eat or shower. Since I don’t have any appetite anymore, I dedicated all the energy to shower then. But I have a feeling that I might not even have the energy to drag myself to take a shower or even get up in the mornings soon. It’s just so tiring, where do people even get those energy from?”
“Well, we’ll deal with it one step at a time, okay?” Bucky tilted your chin up to make you look him in the eyes. You whispered a meek ‘ok’, suddenly tired at the lack of sleep.
He handed you the now warm hot chocolate, a stern stare on his face. “At least have some fluids in your system, please.” His gaze softened when he saw you gulping at the sight of the warm brown liquid, nose scrunched up in disgust.
He noticed your discomfort and gestured you to wait while he went to your kitchen and rummaged around the drawers only to return with a spoon.
“Baby steps, okay? Just 5 spoons of it then we’re done.” You nodded while he passed the spoon to you.
The whole morning was spent with Bucky in the living room, him giving your warm encouraging smiles whenever you managed to swallow a spoonful of the chocolate drink.
“Go get some sleep,” he gave your knee a few light taps before proceeding to pull you off the couch and guide you back to your room, then went back to the couch himself to get some shut-eye.
Sending a message to your assistant that you would have to take a few days off, you didn’t wait until you get a reply and plopped yourself on the bed, once again drifting into sleep hoping tomorrow would be better than today.
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metahigh · 3 years ago
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Rating: teen and up (READ THE WARNINGS FIRST, PLEASE)
Warnings (for the whole fic): The Angst, slow burn, pining, depression, mention of suicidal thoughts, a few curses, one (1) really vague reference to sex, my headcanon that everyone in SW is bi, canon divergences (Razor Crest and Amban Rifle, my beloved), reader has some background and hobbies (it’s spacious for almost anything, though), incompetent use of English, easter eggs and references (can you catch them all?), oh no there was only one bed.
NO y/n. NO physical specifics, details or gendered pronouns beyond only mentions of some basic human stuff. It should suit to the majority of readers. If I missed something, please, my asks are open.
More chapters
Side notes: big Thanks to everyone for reading and supporting my stuff! We keep kicking the big D not that d though  with a big wooden club! 
WC: 1939
“Not the best time for a middle-life crisis,” Paz said while standing behind the Armourer with folded hands on his bulky chest. He jerked his chin up in provocation. “Even if we don’t give a shit about that thing, it has potential to be used to lead and influence others who care.” He took a step closer and pointed a finger at the artifact and then at Din accentuating his statement, “That Kryze chick is the last person who should have it. If you met her, you know it better than anyone else! Between you two, you’re a far better choice. And that’s saying something since I admit that myself. And considering,” after that he made a broad hand movement over Din’s figure.
“Thanks,” Din snapped, which earned a lazy shoulder shrug and little defensive but satisfied “Just spitting facts here” from Paz.
“Maybe, I could find someone else among us who fits better for that role then,” Din suggested sincerely. Before the Armorer was able to answer, Paz intervened again not trying to conceal his enjoyment anymore.
“I’m glad to beat your ass any day for free but that thing requires too much talking and not enough real action afterwards for my taste,” the dark blue helmet turned its visor to the ceiling. “But I know this one dinii who just can’t shut the f…”
“You will go hunting,” she didn’t have to raise her voice to immediately stop Paz’s march of thoughts. Both men were surprised by a sudden change of the subject and waited for her to elaborate. When she had their full attention, the Alor spoke up again. “There is a deep canyon to the east from the city border called the Viper’s Bed. You will go there for a hunting trip.” She stood up and resumed her chores around the forge. “Do you still have the amban rifle you were gifted by your father?” Her words echoed around the room when she moved.
“Yes.”
As he answered, she looked back at him to add with firm but gentle finality leaving no place for arguments, “You will take it with you. Have a day to rest and go out before the dawn. I expect a trophy of a greater value than what you have brought here.” Her helmet nodded to the table before she locked her line of sight with him, “This is the Way”.
“This is the Way”, they both mirrored in unison.
He gathered the cursed weapon and followed Paz outside. While their paths coincided, the blue mandalorian picked up the conversation where it was actually left off, in his opinion. He proceeded to describe how he met said lunatic, how the candidate was the only one he could tolerate as a work partner, because they were nuts, had some “dank sense of humour”, and could talk anyone either to “sleep, self-combustion or both”. Paz considered himself lucky to witness the power in action, and it was the most entertaining and impressive thing he had ever seen. Used to their one-sided manner of talking, Din zoned out a bit thinking about his new task.
What kind of prey could be grander than an ancient and powerful sword? And how was he supposed to find it in the canyon on the planet with almost completely ruined biodiversity? Well, at least he had something to distract his mind from fruitless attempts of figuring out what to do with the damn thing and his life in general. Which reminded him of another object that was able to have the same effect on him. “I need to take my stuff from the ship,” he stopped in his tracks making his companion finally pay attention to him. “Are there any other ways to exit the place?”  
“Through the tunnels. Green’s for guests, works only after the midnight. White takes you to safe houses on the 8th, 23rd and 46th. Red is a backdoor to jungles outside the city. Others are traps.”
Din nodded quiet “thanks” and turned in the direction of the tunnel. When Paz pushed his shoulder with what the man thought was a playful amount of force, he faced the mandalorian to hear him say in a smug tone, “Suck it up, Djarin. Whatever you do, we’ll support you out of spite to annoy Kryze, don’t worry. Just don’t lose it to her. Can’t be that hard for you, heh?” Receiving the best “I’m so done with you” look Din could master with a bucket on his head, Paz erupted with a proud laughter and went back to where he was headed.
Choosing the shortest way to the Crest, Din covered it with ease, payed for the docking and returned to the covert with a duffel bag and the spear behind his back. When he found a vacant room in sleeping quarters, he released a loud groan at the sight of not only a real mattress with sheets, covers and pillows, but an actual fresher stall inside the compact bathroom. Not the sonic bullshit, a normal fresher with water and bubbly soap. It didn’t even matter that he couldn’t adjust the temperature. The liquid that balanced on the edge of chill soothed his tired body refreshing his skin and hair. Taking his time with the rare luxury, he trimmed his beard and moustache and ruffled his curls checking their length in a small mirror. They were a bit longer than he usually wore but after, probably, the longest shower he’d ever had, Din didn’t have the patience to cut them too, just dried with a thin towel and went to bed.
The part where he had to look at himself in a mirror was his least favourite but he never skipped it nonetheless. With age, at certain angles and lighting, there was a faint illusion, just for a second, of vague similarities with his parents who gave him life, which brought bittersweet fondness, and Din wasn’t sure how to address that yet. He was a two-faced creature – outside people saw the beskar, a mandalorian, a warrior, a bounty hunter, but in the secluded loneliness only a bare man with permanent eye bags looked at him from the mirror. Two images didn’t collide just layered on top of each other.
He rearranged pillows to his comfort and fully stretched on the bed with a satisfied sigh. His muscles singed with pleasure from finally basking in softness, warmth and safety of the home. It was probably not the best decision to read again, when he promised to take a day to rest and there were only few hours before the sunrise, but it would be just another little crime he kept to himself. “One more page and I’ll sleep as much as I need,” he compromised while digging up your journal from the bag.
The book was carefully packaged in a thick cloth, the last relatively clean one he could find in the ship, as a temporary measure of protection. Under better lighting, he was able to spot differences on the soft leather that stood out in colour and texture after friction, pressure from other objects, accidental folding at a wrong angle and contact with water, caf, oil or whatever was around you. Each page had a unique shade, sometimes fluff on a surface and barely visible details to hold together your journey. It was verbal expression, print of your personality, evidence of your experience in this machine of never ending cycle of birth, struggle and death. He lived through all of these pictures of you that let him feel your presence again.
New broadside made his heart fill with tender warmth. Judging the way you portrayed Grogu sitting behind a small desk, no doubt you made it when he left to help Karga on that imperial base, and you promised to look after the child.
Around quite realistic drawings of the child from a dozen perspectives, you wrote short exclamations of joy and fascination with his endless cuteness. Unfortunately, your dramatic notes how you would die for him didn’t age well and made him turn the page despite not finishing admiring the portraits.
I feel so happy just from looking at him. I secretly hope we won’t find any jedi. I’m ok with his parents or others from his species (I have to see a whole village filled with these cuties or I won’t find peace) but not jedi. They’re low key a cult, high key a political and military force that thinks it has a high ground to determine the Galaxy’s future.
I understand that the baby uses the Force like a natural jedi. Saw it myself only ten minutes ago when the womp rat stole macarons from another student. Maker, Mando told me about that but, so far, the green menace behaved apart from trying to eat non-edible things and the regular antics. Turns out, the baby takes “no” for an answer exclusively from his dad and only when Mando is in the periphery. Occasionally from me too, when I can successfully bargain.
I’m baffled that he’s never heard of the Force. I mean, I don’t know how old he is but did he live under a rock? But, since he doesn’t do friends with politics and governments, it’s not like he could at least learn the infamous greeting from the rebellion. Oh, wait. How old is he? He looks like a grown man, built like a damn war god, but that doesn’t say anything. He might be 20, 30, 40 or even 50 and I wouldn’t know. Is it bad that even big age gap doesn’t bother me?.. I think, it should be somewhat alarming…
Anyway, after seeing them together for so long, I can’t imagine them apart. It’ll surely break their hearts. It surely is going to break mine. Mando never refers to the child as his. But never corrects others when they assume that he’s the father. He probably tries to put some distance between them, to prepare and not cause more pain when the time to let go will come.
Oh, Force. If you’re really so powerful and ever-present as I was told, please, keep them safe and together. They both need the love from each other.
In the end, you sketched him holding Grogu under his chin cradling the tiny body with both hands. The child was smiling showing off his tiny teeth and he had his favourite toy clenched firm in his claws. When you were introduced to the child’s toy and the story behind it, after pointing out that his lever missed a handle piece, you lifted it with an outstretched hand levelling it on the same line with Din’s head. You closed one eye squinting and said that you had a theory why the child loved that thing so much. He then gave you unamused head gesture, which was his equivalent of sarcastic “yeah, really funny”. Not his best or smartest comeback but it made you smile so it counted as a win.
The chronometer announced a new day to slowly crawl towards him, and Din couldn’t fight fatigue any longer. He closed the book, tied it up and put on the bedside table on the same cloth he used for the cover. Lulled by an image of you with the child in hands, sleep never came so sweet and gentle. That night he dreamed of distant planet with mirror glass lakes scattered around a valley full of blooming wild flowers peppered with dew from low puffy clouds. He dreamed of an embrace that felt like home and a kiss that washed his grief and sins away.
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myglogic · 4 years ago
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Priceless | Bang Chan | 01
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Chapter 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12
Pairing: Bang Chan (Stray Kids) x female reader
Genre: Crime, enemies to friends to lovers, angst, fluff
Short summary: Y/N is a journalist who dreams of writing a frontpage article at the Seoul Times. She gets the chance to attend the Bang Charity Gala through her work where she plans exposing Kevin Bang, father of Chan and one of the richest men in Seoul. How is she planning to do that? The Gala is a masquarade ball where no one will recognize her. Y/N just wants justice for herself and everyone Kevin Bang hurt.
DISCLAIMER: Everything in this fanfic is fiction - that includes Chan’s fictional father who of course does not represent Chan’s real father! ♥
The event was full of people. Full of filthy rich people, you might add. It was the event of the year for Seoul’s richest and most famous people. The Bang Gala. What is the Bang Gala, you might ask? It was a charity gala where tons of money was gathered for a good cause every year. The cause is always kept a secret until the gala. Last year the money went to an organization that helps orphans who didn’t get adopted to adjust to society. Sounds like a beautiful event, right? In one year, the money went to survivors of natural catastrophes, another year it went to the homeless. Each year millions of dollars were donated. You couldn’t even imagine how big the sums must be.
Bullshit. That was what you thought. Because the people behind this charity gala were the Bang family. Kevin Bang, the owner of Seoul’s biggest real estate agency, no, you could even say the owner of South Korea’s biggest real estate agency hosted the gala. In the media, he was known for being a generous businessman, always leaving huge tips at the restaurants he was eating at. He was not only known for being generous, but also being down to earth too.
All of it was an act. Because you knew who the real Kevin Bang was. You knew how the real, evil, Kevin Bang was like and how he treated the people around him too. He was the reason why your father lost everything.
You were just a kid when all of that happened. You didn’t like to dwell on the past but you were a girl who hated unfair treatment. The past was the past but it wasn’t easy to forget. In the past two years you have been working for a pretty big newspaper – the Seoul Times. Okay, working would be an overstatement. You were basically there to proofread the articles written by the real authors and bring coffee. But you were still happy to be there because it was a start. You studied journalism but had no experience yet so it was even a miracle that you got a job at such a renowned company. Sometimes you did write small articles but mostly it was about boring stuff, for example, how the private school next door opened their new library which was – what a coincidence – sponsored by none other than Kevin Bang.
Your parents were proud of you because you worked your ass off at university for this degree. It was very underwhelming to get such an underpaid job, but you had to work hard to become the head editor one day. Right now, you worked at the “celebrity” department, where they basically gathered all kind of news about any kind of celebrity. Like for example how BTS got another win for their latest album. It wasn’t what you envisioned. Sometimes you switched departments too and just work wherever you were needed. That is why you needed an incredible story to write, a story that you have discovered. You didn’t only write articles but sometimes you had to investigate too, like doing interviews outside the office if the writer himself was too lazy to do it. But this story was your personal story. No help from Seoul Times or any other editor. You knew that this story, your story, would secure you a job on the top. That story was exposing Kevin Bang.
Exposing the real Kevin Bang. Not the beloved charitable, kind person that everyone looked up to, but the asshole, getting-anything-he-wants Kevin Bang. Why was your hatred for him so deep when everyone seemed to love that guy? The answer was simple. If something didn’t fit into Mr. Bang’s plans then he just bought everything with his money and influence. He was one of the reasons why an orphanage was demolished because he wanted to free some space for his clients, so he built a 5-star hotel on that area. According to your research he made some hefty payments to make sure that this does not reach the media. It hurt you a lot because you volunteered a lot at that specific orphanage. The kids there were not prepared to leave at all. It was a shitty move of him and you hated him more for that.
But that was just one of his many wrongdoings. You hated reading anything about that guy and his family.
♥.
Chaos. The office was very chaotic because of the on-going charity gala. A lot of newspapers used the gala to get interviews with big names, because anyone who had influence attended that gala. But this year’s theme was not optimal to get a lot of interviews: Masquerade. Everyone had to wear masks so no one knew who you were.
It was interesting since all of the people there already had two faces. The theme made a lot of interviewers back out because if you can’t see the celebrity, interviewing them would be difficult.
You were sitting at your desk, trying to find more dirt on the Bang family when you heard a stack of papers landing next to you, making you flinch a little. It was your supervisor, Hana, who looked at you, annoyed. “Proofread these, okay?”, she sighed, rubbing her temples.
“Okay.”, you said, not wanting to annoy her more.
“I need these by tomorrow by the way.”, she added arrogantly.
“Excuse me, what?!”, you said, standing up in shock. “I can’t even get half of those done in a day!”
She stared you down with an angry expression. “Okay, then why don’t you go and try to interview some masked celebrities at that stupid gala, huh? Our top interviewers don’t want to go because they think it’s a waste of their time!”
You sighed. “Just because you have problems, doesn’t mean that you can put all the workload onto me.”
“I am sick of you complaining, Y/N. This gala is stressing me enough already. It’s not like anything happens at these galas anyway, I don’t even know why we have to send so many employees there. The big boss is crazy. Taejoon doesn’t want to go and we have to send someone from our department.”, Hana said angrily, clearly angry at Taejoon who usually does the interviews for your department.
Then an idea popped into your mind. “Wait… So technically if Taejoon goes to that gala thing, doesn’t he get a free pass?”
“Yeah, we cannot identify the celebs there anyway. But we still have to send ten of our people so that they can write down how much money was donated, where the money goes to, blah blah. Also, if anyone decides to show up without a mask, interview them. Stuff like that.”
This was the idea! You gathered information on Kevin Bang for a while now and if you could find a way to get in there, you might be able to turn everyone against him. You just needed to get the attention of the guests and the media. You knew that you wouldn’t get the recognition you wanted but it would be a start to dig the dirt on him.
Maybe, if you tell the boss that it was you who exposed him, he will let you write the big front-page article about him. Nobody knew more shit about Kevin Bang than you.
“You know, if you let someone else proofread these articles, I would go to that gala instead of Taejoon.”, you offered her.
She gave you a tempting look. “You never went, right? Of course, you would be excited to enter such an exclusive event. But please don’t fall asleep, it gets boring pretty quickly.”, Hana warned you. “Also, you can’t wear a mask as someone from the media. You need to stay in the background, especially since you are still a rookie. Got it?”
Yeah, of course, it was because it was an exclusive event. It’s not like you had a huge ass plan to destroy Kevin Bang or something. “Yeah, got it. Can I go?”, you asked innocently.
She sighed. “Okay. But don’t do anything stupid!”
“I won’t!”
‘At least not when you are around.’, you thought.
Now that you got your free pass to the Bang charity gala, you needed to make up a plan. A really good one. Because your operation was big and you couldn’t risk making any mistakes. The gala was in two days and you quickly needed to figure out what to do and how to do it.
♥.
With all the information you had on Kevin Bang, you knew you had to somehow get the attention of the audience that would attend the gala. Through some insider information you found out that there will be a huge projector. It’s projecting at the main stage. So, you somehow needed to get to the tech room to show the audience your evidence.
You found out that a friend of yours, Felix, will be working there on the night of the gala as a waiter for drinks. You were sure that he would be a huge help and approached him but at first, he thought you were crazy. You were basically trying to ruin a charity event. But after explaining why you wanted to do it, he agreed to help you with your plan. There was a designated area for the press, so you needed to get inside and change first to mix with the actual guests.
This was your plan:
1.    Get inside the actual building as someone from the press
2.    Bring a sexy dress and a mask
3.    With the help of Felix get in the employee area to change
4.    Act as if you’re a guest and talk negatively about Kevin Bang
5.    Get in the computer room to “hack” the projector
6.    Expose Kevin Bang
Sometimes you felt like one of those drama Youtube channels. But this was more than just telling everyone about a horrible person. You did this for your family, especially for your dad. Your family was ruined because of him. Your parents worked their hardest just so you could go to university. Of course, you also did this to write an article about him and get a better position at work. But there was more of a personal agenda behind this.
After a long day of work, you finally came home, clearly exhausted. The gala was tomorrow and you were really nervous about everything. Your roommate Jisung walked out of the kitchen and looked at you. Jisung and you met on your first day of university and became friends quickly. He was your closest friend and you knew you could trust him with your life. “Hey, I got a huge ass dress delivery for you today? What are you going to do with such a fancy dress?”, he asked you curiously.
You smiled at him, determined. “I will attend the Bang charity gala tomorrow.”
Jisung’s eyes widened. “What? For real? Because of your job or what?”
You smirked. “Just wait. After tomorrow, I will finally get the recognition I deserve. And yeah, I will get in thanks to my job.”
Jisung looked at you suspiciously as he sat down with a bowl of chips in front of you. “You're planning something, aren’t you?”
You put on a confident smile as you laid down on the couch. “Yeah. Look, I will tell you everything after the gala. It’s a huge thing so…”
“Don’t get arrested or something, dude.”, Jisung sighed. “Well, since you won’t tell me now, why don’t we watch a movie on Netflix then?”
“Sure.”
♥.
The day of the gala arrived quickly and you found yourself with a camera hanging onto your neck in front of the huge ass gala building. You gave your dress to Felix before so he could hide it in the employee changing rooms. Your hands were sweaty as you took some pictures.
“So, we will be at different locations throughout the building. Try to get some good pictures and if you recognize someone, try to get an interview, okay?”, one of the interviewers told the Seoul Times journalists.
As you went to your designated areas you looked around for Felix to get out of here. At the same time, you admired the huge building with a rich history. Literally, rich. The guests were coming in slowly and everyone looked glamorous and fancy. Their dresses probably cost more than you earn in a month. The location was beautifully decorated, the main stage was huge. While looking around you saw the tech people going upstairs. The tech room must have been upstairs. You couldn’t find a good floor plan on the internet and security was high alert. There had to be a way to get up there. Dressing up as someone from the tech crew would be too obvious but no one would suspect a masked woman in a dress. Especially since you were masked, you were even safer.
As everyone was seated Kevin Bang entered the main stage shortly after. His crisp suit looked expensive, his hair was slicked back. His face was half covered by a black mask. Behind him was his wife, probably number 6 by now, and his son Chan. They also wore masks that didn’t do a good job with covering their faces. Your gaze wandered more towards to his son than Kevin himself. He looked handsome, you couldn’t deny that, with his black hair and dark blue, perfectly sitting suit. You also noticed that he didn’t look too excited to stand there. Interesting.
“Welcome to the annual Bang charity gala! I am happy to see so many faces – well, technically I can’t see you but I appreciate every single one of you!”, Kevin said enthusiastically which earned him hearty laughs from the audience. You rolled your eyes. “You for sure have been wondering where the money goes to this year! This year, we are donating the money of this beautiful gala to a brand-new hospital! With the money you donate every year we can build a completely new hospital where everyone can be treated! The best thing about the hospital?”, he started and showed a picture of the future hospital that was projected behind him. “We will get the best doctors! Anything for our residents of Seoul!”
The crowd cheered and clapped politely. The rich were delighted. “Let’s see how much money we can gather tonight!”
You scoffed at his stupid smirk. “What a freaking liar, the money doesn’t even arrive there.”, you whispered angrily.
The event kicked off, classical music was playing in the background. Since the theme was “masquerade” the guests started waltzing in pairs. It did look very appealing but it felt like this wasn’t your world. In fact, this was not your world. You sometimes wished it was. Not worrying about anything, especially money. You knew you could never fit in.
You then got up looking around. Security was everywhere. Then you spotted Felix who walked up to you. “Hey, sorry, I’m late. These rich people never stop drinking.”, he sighed, clearly exhausted as he pushed his blonde hair back.
“It’s fine the event just started. How can I get out of here without security noticing?”, you asked him, feeling the fear inside you coming up.
“Just walk next to me. As long as you don’t act suspiciously nothing will happen.”, he assured you and walked you to the employee changing rooms. You noticed a few glances from some security guards but nobody stopped you.
As you were getting dressed, Felix spoke up. He was hiding behind some lockers so you could dress in peace. “But Y/N… what if you get caught? How do you plan on getting out of here after doing that stunt?”
You sighed, “I need to do everything step by step, Felix. First, I need to get to the tech room and make sure that everyone out there can here hear me. Then I will decide what to do. But I won’t get caught.”, you told Felix while putting on your red dress that had lace details on the top part. It wasn’t tight but still looked really nice. It was a rather flowy dress and you could breathe in that dress. It looked expensive enough for the elite of Seoul. Good thing that you can rent dresses. You then put on some red lipstick and put your mask on that covered nearly your entire face except for your lips. You were unrecognizable, especially since you looked like a zombie normally.
As you turned the corner to meet Felix his eyes widened for a moment. “Wow, you look nice! I bet you will fit in without any problems!”
You smiled at him and then squeezed his cheek. “Aww! Thank you, Felix. I’m really nervous… but I have to do this.”
He looked at you with a worried expression, “Please, be careful, alright?”
You nodded and quietly exited the dressing room. Some people sat at their assigned seats, others were talking about the event. The music was loud but the atmosphere was alright. For now.
You decided to join a group who were talking. They were two women who were gushing about how extravagant this gala was. They were wearing expensive designer dresses.
“I love the gold details in the decoration.”, one of the women, the one who wore a black mask, said.
“I wish they would serve some more seafood. The buffet is horrible.”, the other one said, sighing. Wow.
“But no matter what Mr. Bang does, his galas are still the best!”, black mask spoke up again.
“I don’t get why everyone likes him so much…”, you spoke up, taking a glass of champagne from a waiter that was walking by.
The women looked at you, a look of confusion in their eyes. “Why would you say that? Everyone loves him.”, black mask said, defending the man.
You sighed. “I heard that he's a real asshole in reality. Ever heard of when he bulldozed an orphanage for his new hotel?”, you told them.
They gasped in shock. “He would never do something like that, would he?”
“Well he paid the media so word couldn’t get out.”, you told them.
Then they started discussing if this was real or not. That was what you did for the first hour. While there was some show on the stage, you trash talked Kevin Bang. While some people didn’t even listen to you, others were saying that they had assumptions about him. Kevin Bang was a smart man. He wouldn’t show his real face to anyone.
As you were looking around the room, you felt something or rather someone staring at you. Now that you think of it, you felt that even earlier. Then you saw that in fact someone was staring at you. That suit and mask… He looked really familiar. He walked up to you and held out his hand. “Would you like to dance with me?”
You were surprised and didn’t know what to do. “Uh, I’m not really a dancer.”
“Just follow my lead, you will be fine.”, his butter smooth voice assured you. Damn it.
You then took his hand and followed him to the dance floor. He put one hand on your waist and his other hand held yours. You wondered why he asked you out of all people. You carefully followed his steps, trying not to embarrass yourself.
“So, what’s your deal? Who are you?”, he grumbled, his eyes dark.
“This is a masquerade, isn’t it? Why would you ask me that?”, you told him, slightly surprised by his sudden change of attitude. What was he trying to do?
“I heard you talk shit about my father. What the hell are you even doing here if you hate him that much, huh?”
Your eyes widened. Of course, he was Kevin Bang’s son! You recognized him from earlier. “Why do you act like everyone in this room loves him? As if I am the only person who dislikes him.”
He tightly squeezed your hand and waist to symbolize his seriousness. “Oh, really? You don’t know him. He is a businessman, sometimes he has to make sacrifices like relocating an orphanage.”
So, he was listening to you. Interesting. “You call that relocating? You don’t know shit.”, you said in an annoyed tone.
“And you know that better than his own son?”
It was your turn to give him a tight squeeze on his shoulder. “Yeah, I actually have my sources.”
You were dancing in circles and his gaze bore into yours. You would find it cute that he tried to defend his father if he wasn’t Kevin’s son. “I will find out who the hell you are. I bet you are one of the Lee’s. You guys are always jealous of us.”
You sighed. “I am so jealous of you and your life. Oh, fuck off. You know, I don’t have to like you or your father. And here I thought I would dance with a gentleman.”, you said, trying to sound disinterested.
The music finally came to an end and you looked at the man in front of you. “It was not nice to dance with you. Let’s not do that again.”, you said and turned your back, walking away from him.
“Wait! Who the hell are you?”, Chan shouted, gaining a few looks from the crowd. But before he could follow you, you were lost in the crowd.
You tried to go through busy crowds and then tried to find a way to go to the computer/tech room. You decided that it would be best if you pretended to search for a bathroom or something, so you sneaked upstairs without anyone noticing you for now.
It was time. Time to get revenge. Time to show the world who the real Kevin Bang was. Time to shine.
A/N: Hello guys, this is my first (consistent) series on this blog! This is also the first time I am writing for Chan and I hope I do him justice. Buckle up because this story has a lot of twists and turns. I appreciate every form of feedback and maybe even theories! What do you think will happen next? Thanks for reading! ♥
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lokisasylum · 3 years ago
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writer’s tag
No one tagged me, I’m just your regular insomniac (but without caffeine this time).
1. what fandoms have you written for (but do not currently)?
I used to write for Yuyu Hakusho and Death Note back in the day when I finally coughed up the courage to try writing. But i don’t write for either one anymore since I left both fandoms back in 2009. Then I took a LONG break from fandoms as a whole (due the toxicity in them thanks to the pre-teens who joined afterwards to ruin them 🤢) and instead focused on this original story I had for a couple of years, but then lost interest in it since no one else was into it.
2. what fandoms are you currently writing for?
Currently? BTS.
3. how long have you been writing?
Y’know, i was gonna say since 2008 when I REALLY got into Death Note and opened my first deviantart account (i was 22 back then). But I’ve actually been writing roughly since I was 13. I used to carry around a large notebook with random dialogues, chapters, scenes, character datas for an original story that never quite came to life. *shrugs*
4. on which platforms do you post your stories?
AO3 and sometimes on deviantart (LoKiRaseNgAn), which is also my main art account.
5. what is your favourite genre to write?
Alternative Universes, slice of life, angst with happy endings (most times >>), psychological thriller, strangers to lovers, and of course a bit of smut without plot is good. 
6. are you a pantser or a planner?
I make a plan and then wing it till the end LOL. For example, I almost always start writing with the intention of writing a oneshot... and then chapter 02 happens... then chapter 03 and so on...🤷🏻‍♀️
7. one shot or multi-chapter?
BOTH, both is good.
8. what is the perfect chapter length in your opinion?
I used to think 10-12 pages was THE way to go, because #1. It sets a goal/deadline, #2. Reduces the time it would take to update a story especially if its multi-chartered and #3. It helps prevent unnecessary fillers.
But lately my “endgame” is 20-22 pages long if its a Oneshot or final chapter.
[LMAO I never even did that for my Graduate School Thesis, where the “perfect/acceptable length” was 50 pages per chapter. I only ever did 25-38 and only because I set the spacing to 2.0 and would bullshit my way through the last lines  🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣 ]
9. what is your longest published story? is it complete?
For now, Lunatic High , which is 17 chapters long but missing the final one (18). So it remains Incomplete until I can finish that last chapter which I’ve had to re-write several times after the original was lost 😭😭
10. which story did you enjoy working on the most?
Beautiful Tragedy (soulmate au) and All or Nothing would bet the best pics because both had the exact endings I wanted for them from the start. 
11. favourite request you’ve written and why?
I never get requests, so I just write whatever plot bunny’s running wild in my head at 3AM.
12. are there recurring themes in your stories?
angst, hurt/comfort, smut with a bit of humor
13. current number of wips?
*glares at File on my desktop* ...11 unpublished..and 2 multi-chapters that are missing their final chapter.
14. three things you have noticed about your own writing?
As per typical of a History major since college, I do TONS of research about topics of interest. Especially if Historic events take place (like in Forever, You Said where I did a year of research on the Joseon Dynasty back in late 1600s up until what was going on in the world before, during and after World War II)
I’ve never noticed this, but some of my readers describe my writing as “poetic”, “realistic” to a point where they question reality and emotional.
I unconsciously tie events, phrases, moments between characters and the end result makes it seem like it was all planned from the start (this happens a lot between VMIN).
15. a quote you like from a published story.
" Most fairy-tales make you believe that there is such a thing as “forever”, but in reality kingdoms fall, buildings turn to ruble, words fade, bodies decay and turn to dust. Nothing ever lasts.    Not even love.” -- [Forever, You Said. Chapter 03: “A Blackened Soul”]
16. a quote from an unpublished story.
[This one’s fron a Yoonmin Police AU titled “Red Cold River” ]
“It hurt... it always does, but I know he's hurting more. So I don't tell him anything, for I too hold on to the same fear as he. That one day his obsession to solve "the one case" will take him away from me. That next time it'll be his body we have to identify on the cold steel bed in the morgue and I won't be able to stand it.
That in the end I’ll become just like him; bitter and plagued by regrets.”
17. a space for you to say something to your readers.
Thank you for reading my stories and for the Kudos or Comments. I always read each one and keep them close to my heart to motivate me into writing more. But I’m also sad and very sorry that I haven’t written anything since 2 years ago.
You guys prolly see me online all the time cracking jokes, recommending new music or making shady comments always aimed towards idiots and antis, but IRL its been rough on my end with chronic illnesses I rather not speak off to avoid sounding like I'm throwing a pity party. Also struggling to find a new job since I lost my old one over 4 years ago (they keep saying its cause i'm "overqualified" but I just call it bullshit and people being too lazy to teach someone new) and with this fucking pandemic that won't go away only adds more frustration on the daily basis.
But just now that I haven’t given up on writing and I haven’t given up on either Lunatic High nor Forever You Said.
18. Tag?
Anyone who’s read it this far is tagged.
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honeyedhoseok · 4 years ago
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Hanami Pt. 3 | The V2 Series
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Genre | angst, The V2 Series, taehyung x reader, friends->lovers->friends (?)
Word Count | 5.1K
Warnings | Language. Alcohol consumption. Lots of pining / Taehyung and Y/N just not vibing well or being on the same level at the same time :/
Summary | While trying to have a good time downtown with their friends, Taehyung and Y/N are still struggling to work through how they feel about each other.
A/N | After a long wait, here’s part 3! This story is absolutely starting to kick me in the ass, so I’m very glad I finally got this out. Lemme know what you think!! :)
Read the rest of The V2 Series HERE!
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Downtown is alive with the air of celebration and lightened with the relieved stress of the weekend—people float in and out of clubs and bars, taking advantage of the plentiful food carts and drink stands still left over from that afternoon’s Hanami festivities. 
You are among the crowds, yet somehow still on the outside of your own group. You aren’t having the best time, but it’s no one’s fault but your own—you could put everything in your head aside and just enjoy the company of your best friends like you so desperately wanted to, but sadly, fate didn’t work in your favor like that. 
Instead, you stand to the side in one of your favorite bars, clutching a drink bought for you graciously by Hyejin. Following your line of sight and pressing the stiff buttons on an old, rickety jukebox in the corner, is Taehyung. Unbeknownst to him, you’ve been unable to take your eyes off of him for some time now—whether you have the alcohol to thank for that or just your jumbled mess of feelings, you’ll never know. 
Somewhere, stewing in the back of your fucked-up brain, you’re still thinking of the last time you two were downtown. Just a few short months ago, you were hand in hand with Taehyung, dragging him down the same cobblestone streets you two had just walked on a few minutes ago, giggling with elation, sharing a drink at this very bar, arguing, and then fucking in Taehyung’s car. 
You can’t help but compare those times to now—where Taehyung doesn’t even give you a lasting glance as you sidle up beside him at the jukebox, doing your absolute best to make every movement, every decision of your own look as casual as possible. 
“Anything good up there?” you ask. 
His focus slowly slides to yours as he flips through a few more songs. “Just that one Strokes song everyone knows,” he answers, pushing the big ‘Select’ button with his thumb. 
The beginning bass notes of “Reptilia” play through the loudspeakers in every corner of the room. A few people nod their head in recognition, and when the guitars kick in, you think you see a ghost of a smile flash across Taehyung’s face again. 
I said, “Please don’t slow me down 
If I’m going too fast” 
You decide to go out on a limb and try to rope Taehyung in with nostalgia. 
“You know we danced to this song in my room one time,” you say, grinning. “You remember that?”
“I do,” he says, shoving his hands in the pockets of his jeans and flicking his fringe out of his eyes. “We skipped school and had to jump the fence to your neighbors house—”
“And I thought I was going to have to take you to the hospital for a rabies treatment, because her dog bit you!” you say, laughing loudly. “Oh my god. That was such a weird day.”
“And it was your second time smoking,” Taehyung adds in, looking more excited as the memories come back to him rapidly, “and you made me basically sit outside your room so that the smell wouldn’t stay inside—”
“—but it definitely still smelled like it—”
“And you were gone off of one hit!” he says, laughing loudly. “And then you put this Strokes album on your record player and started dancing around your room—”
“You danced too!” you exclaim, wagging a finger at him. “Don’t forget that, and then we ended up out of breath on the bed—”
Your sentence falls flat as you realize where this story leads: you and Taehyung fooling around for one of the first times when you were both teenagers. Taehyung realizes this too, because the elation in his face drains immediately, the corners of his mouth drooping into a makeshift frown. 
“Yeah, well. That was a long time ago,” is all he says, before looking over your shoulder at Jungkook walking toward the two of you. 
Jungkook slings his arm around Taehyung, not even sparing you a glance. “What are you doing, dude?” 
You remember the look they shared on the porch and realize suddenly that it’s going to be harder to talk to Taehyung alone than you’d originally thought—even wasted, Jungkook was on a mission to keep the two of you away from each other at every chance he could get. You wonder if the two had concocted this plan before the night began. 
The Strokes song on the jukebox nears the end, picking up speed. 
The room is on fire
As she’s fixing her hair
“You sound so angry
Just calm down, you found me”
Your mind lingers on the previous conversation—oh, how times had changed. 
“Trying to find something good on this piece of shit,” Taehyung answers, gesturing to the jukebox before wrapping an arm around Jungkook’s waist. He’s leaning heavily on his slightly shorter friend, and Taehyung grimaces a little as he readjusts the weight on his upper body. “How much have you had, man?”
“Enough,” Jungkook slurs, giving him a lazy grin. “I’m fucking done for—you want a shot? I’m buying.”
“Actually,” you say, holding up a finger in thought. “I’m buying. Be right back.”
You set the now-empty drink cup in your hand down, swaying a little at the quick turn you do on your heel to head towards the bar. If you weren’t careful, you were going to be like Jungkook shortly, and then Taehyung definitely wouldn’t want to talk to you. On the other hand, the more drinks you had, the less likely you were to let Taehyung’s cold demeanor ruin your night and hurt your feelings—it was a Catch-22. 
“Three Purple Gatorades, please,” you say to the bartender, sliding her your card.
You spare a glance over your shoulder, looking for any signs of Yeonwoo and Hyejin, but they’d disappeared downstairs to the dance floor as soon as the five of you had stepped foot over the threshold. 
Jungkook and Taehyung are now huddled in the corner by the jukebox, and Jungkook’s eyebrows are creased from whatever information Taehyung was in the middle of telling him. Irritation flares at the sight, making you purse your lips—why did it seem like they were definitely  in on this whole thing together? Why couldn’t Jungkook just mind his business and go downstairs with Yeonwoo?
You grab your drinks and your card, heading back over to where they are.
“Three of the best drinks this place offers, courtesy of moi,” you say with a grin before handing Jungkook one. “Right, Taehyung?”
“They are good,” he muses. “But I think I’m done drinking.”
Your face falls flat. “Seriously? I just bought this for you.”
“Sorry,” he says, shrugging. 
“I’ll take it,” Jungkook pipes up, throwing his first drink back and offering to switch his empty cup for the full one in your left hand. “Give it here.”
“Fat chance!” you say, rolling your eyes. “My money, my alcohol poisoning.”
“Hey, I gave you plenty of shots of my gin at the house,” Jungkook protests, pouting. 
You swallow the first drink. “Gimme an hour or so,” you say, before downing the second one that Taehyung rejected. “You can have it all back—probably on your shoes.”
Jungkook recoils in disgust and Taehyung rolls his eyes at your behavior. It makes your blood boil. 
“When did you turn into such a fucking downer?” you snarl at him, taking all three empty cups in your hands. “It’s starting to get on my nerves.”
“I’m not a downer,” Taehyung says at your back as you walk away. “I’m just not—”
You whip around on your heel in time to see Jungkook shush Taehyung with a sloppy finger to his mouth, which Taehyung pushes away in disgust.
“Calm down there, knife-tongue,” Jungkook says, giggling very unlike himself at his own joke. “You’re coming in too hot tonight, dude. You’ve gotta slow down—”
“No, let him finish,” you say, face warming with embarrassment. “What else are you going to say tonight to hurt my feelings, Taehyung?”
Taehyung shakes his head, dismissing you with a half-assed wave of his hand. The gesture is so unlike him that your mouth drops open in shock. Jungkook looks uncomfortably between the two of you, unsure of what to do anymore—so you turn on your heel, walking away and fighting the urge to go back and slug Taehyung with the clenched fist at your side. 
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You spend the next hour or so of the night avoiding Taehyung and Jungkook—partly because you’re sick and tired of Taehyung’s sour puss attitude, but mostly because you have two more drinks at the bar and the sweat the alcohol out on the dance floor with Hyejin and Yeonwoo. 
Taehyung keeps watch over Jungkook at the pool table during this time, letting his eyes wander every once in a while over the crowded room. He keeps expecting you to return to him at some point—you were never one to let his moods really bother you, mostly because you knew how to break through them—but much to his surprise, you don’t. 
He hadn’t really meant to hurt your feelings as bad as he did earlier, it’s just that you were trying too hard and in turn, making it hard for him to keep up his anger as a walled defense. Of course, this time apart had been hard for him, too. He’d been putting all of his effort into his relationship with Yeseul, but even he could admit it was more of a distraction than anything. A way to redirect the anger and betrayal he felt because of you into love and affection for someone else—someone he felt actually deserved the effort he was capable of. 
The word rebound teeters on the edge of Taehyung’s thoughts, putting a bitter flavor in his mouth akin to the taste of the whiskey mixed drink Jungkook had forced in his hand earlier, and he swallows it down along with the rest of his mixed feelings. 
 “Your turn,” Jungkook says, breaking Taehyung out of his reverie with a nudge with the end of his pool stick. 
Taehyung takes it out of his hand, focusing on the game long enough to hit a striped thirteen into the right corner pocket effortlessly. Jungkook tuts in annoyance. 
“I’m literally try-harding over here and I’m still losing,” he grunts. “What the fuck.”
“You’re a lot less sober than I am,” Taehyung reminds him with a grin, passing the pool stick back to him after missing his next shot. “Oh, and you suck.”
“Not as much as you do,” Jungkook replies, rolling his eyes. “Why’d you DD, man? You don’t even have work tomorrow.”
Taehyung shrugs nonchalantly, looking away from his friend so that the answer isn’t as telling on his face. “I just didn’t feel like drinking, I guess.”
“Bullshit,” Jungkook says almost immediately. “If you’re going to lie, do that shit to Y/N. Not me.”
Even though Taehyung won’t admit it, they both know why he chose not to drink—it was hard enough as it was to brush off your attempts at making nice with him. If he even teetered on the edge of getting tipsy, his facade was done for. 
“You’re going to forgive her at some point,” Jungkook adds. “I know you.”
Taehyung sighs, taking the pool stick out of his friend’s hand to line up his final shot at the eight-ball on the table. He squints, deciding on a whim within the seconds before cracking the white ball with the tip of his pool stick that if he makes this shot, he’ll forgive you. If he misses, he’ll hold onto this grudge a little longer, watch you squirm and tiptoe around him a little more, before he gives in. 
Of course, the black eight-ball goes straight into the left center pocket on the table without hesitation, and Taehyung sighs heavily in victory, hanging his head.
“Winner buys the loser a shot,” Jungkook says, grinning. “Them's the rules.”
Taehyung scoffs. “Since when!”
“Since I became your mediator for all this Y/N stuff—I’ve got to get something good out of this, come on!”
Taehyung supposed there was some truth to that statement. He had been relying heavily on Jungkook’s support and advice through this whole thing—but who else was he supposed to turn to? The one person he used to tell everything to was no longer there. 
 “Fine,” Taehyung says, leaning the pool stick up against the table. “Let’s go.”
As he slides the bartender his card—ordering Jungkook’s ridiculously pricey shot of whiskey—he tries not to think about just how flimsy his resolve against you is. 
How flimsy it’s been this whole time. 
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After wasting some more time upstairs, Taehyung and Jungkook finally decide to retreat to the tables outside on the patio, enjoying the cool breeze that blows through the space and the gentle acoustic music from the live performer in the corner. The plucks of his guitar and low, soft voice are a relaxing break from the thumping bass just a few feet away on the dance floor. 
Jungkook slumps in a chair, digging around in his pockets hastily for what only can be a cigarette, Taehyung is sure. The action makes Taehyung miss his own form of stress relief, but when he thinks about Yeseul’s wrinkled nose at the sight of him puffing on a cigarillo, the thought disappears instantly. 
His affection for her had to mean something, right? He wasn’t purely in a relationship with her for the wrong reasons—he did actually like her. 
At the library, she was always an easy distraction, coming to ask Taehyung questions about his night or his weekend with friendly banter and a pretty smile. Before he finally told her yes—before the disaster scene in his bedroom that one fated weekend with you—Yeseul had tried to get him to come out with her numerous times before, but he’d always turned the idea down. It felt wrong to go by himself, and it felt even more wrong to bring you along if he did go. Somehow, he’d always wanted to keep the two of you separated from each other—now he was glad he had.
Jungkook breaks him out of his thoughts with an offer of his cigarette and Taehyung shakes his head. 
“You thinking about what you’re going to do about all of this?” Jungkook asks, looking pointedly at Taehyung through the cloud of haziness settling in the air between them.  
Taehyung karate chops the smoke out of the air, chewing the inside of his cheek as he buys himself some time. What was he going to do?
“Yeah,” he says finally, sighing. “I’m stuck, man.”
“Look at it like this—” Jungkook says, leaning forward in his chair. “Do you miss Y/N as a person, or do you miss the times you had together? Remember her ways and her selfishness and her flaws. Then remember the physical relationship you two had. Which one has more of a pull for you?”
Taehyung cuts his eyes to Jungkook—he really hated this subject, yet, he could never get away from it. 
“How come you’re suddenly sober when you need to be?” Taehyung mutters. “Go back to dry heaving over the pool table or something.”
“Oh I’m still fucked, believe me,” Jungkook says with a snicker. “My eyes are about three seconds from closing—I’m gonna fall asleep to this boring shit.” He gestures lazily to the performer in the corner still crooning and sucks his teeth in annoyance. “Where’s my girl when I need her?”
“Probably trying to tame Hyejin and Y/N,” Taehyung offers. 
“She’s pretty different than them, right?” Jungkook says, his tone unabashedly appreciative. “I like that.”
Taehyung is glad for the small change of subject. “We know,” he says, rolling his eyes. “You’ve said it enough.”
“No, seriously dude,” Jungkook says, taking a drag from his cigarette for so long that Taehyung is convinced he forgot what he was going to say. “Hear me out.”
“I’m listening?”
“Being with someone who seems like they were tailor-made for us is great, right? I know that’s how you feel about Y/N, because you guys are like two halves of the same whole, or whatever.”
Taehyung frowns at the analogy and Jungkook holds his hands up in defense, telling him to wait. 
“But,” he says, furrowing his brow, “what about falling for someone who is a little different than us? A little softer around the edges—one who suggests you not smoke and drink because they care for your well-being—and is just a good, gentle person to balance you out?”
Taehyung crosses his arms. “Obviously you think that’s Yeseul, right?”
“Yeseul for you, Yeonwoo for me,” Jungkook says, settling back into his chair. 
Taehyung hates how right he is, and wants nothing more than to lean across the table and slug him right in his perfectly squared jaw. 
“I just—” he lets the confession teeter on the edge of his tongue just as a bustling crowd of yelling, laughing girls comes stumbling from upstairs and onto the outside patio. 
The drinks in their hands slosh around at their feet on the cement, which they laugh harder at as they teeter in their heels. It's you, Yeonwoo, and Hyejin—Taehyung recognizes the sounds of your voices immediately—but he realizes quickly that the three of you have made some friends downstairs, and are all searching for a table to rest for a little while after all the dancing you’ve done.
“You just?” Jungkook prompts, following Taehyung’s gaze to the group of girls. “What?”
“Love her,” Taehyung admits glumly, standing up from his chair. He really, really, doesn’t want to talk about this anymore—especially not with you so close. “Come on, let’s make room.”
Jungkook clicks his tongue in judgement but does as his friend says, standing up and cupping his hands around his mouth to call out to Yeonwoo and wave them over. 
Taehyung watches you look around in confusion, but happiness settles quickly across your dazed features as you lock eyes with him and all but skip over to the table. He isn’t sure how much you’ve had since he saw you about an hour and a half ago, but he can quickly settle on the thought that it’s probably way past your usual limit. 
“Taehyunggggg,” you sing-song, throwing your arms around his waist. “I cut my foot dancing, want to see?”
He looks over at Jungkook for help but he’s got a giggling Yeonwoo wrapped up in his arms, whispering something (awful) in her ears, Taehyung is sure. 
Taehyung peels your arms from around his waist gently, though you still frown at the action. He’d just pissed you off not too long ago—where did your anger from before go?
“Let me see.”
You flop down in a chair a few feet away  like a marionette doll who’s strings have just been cut—he’s really starting to get worried about how much you’ve had—before you raise up your leg straight in the air, giving him a unabashed show of your lace panties from beneath the skirt you were wearing. 
Taehyung swallows quickly, grabbing your ankle and lowering your leg. “Y/N, stop.”
“Stop what?” you whine, and it sounds like you’re seconds away from crying. “I’m trying to show you I’m hurt.”
Taehyung can’t help but think you look incredibly cute—your hair messily thrown up in a bun from getting too hot from dancing, your makeup smudged a little around your eyes but still pretty nonetheless, your lower lip jutted out in a way that makes him want to fix everything wrong with the world just to see you grin again.
God damn it, he thinks. What’s wrong with me?
“I can see it without you doing gymnastics, okay?” Taehyung says lightly, trying not to laugh. “You rubbed a giant raw place on your foot from these small ass shoes! Are they even yours?”
“They’re Yeonwoo’s,” you say petulantly, looking down at the ground. “But they went really well with my outfit so I—”
Taehyung shakes his head, laughing a little. “Jesus. Can you still walk?”
“Of course I can,” you say, putting your foot back on the ground and standing up, closing a little bit of the distance between you and him. 
Taehyung realizes suddenly this is probably the closest you two have been to each other and the weakest his facade has been, in months. Looking at you gazing up at him with such hopefulness in his eyes has him feeling soft, feeling like he should maybe rest his hand on your neck and tilt your face up to his—
“Where are your cigars?” you say suddenly. “Give me one.”
Taehyung blinks at you. “I don’t have them anymore, remember? I—”
“I can do you one better!” Jungkook says suddenly, busting up your little moment and coming, somewhat, to Taehyung’s rescue. He digs around in his pockets until he comes up with his cigarette pack. “All nicotine—just what the drunk girl ordered.”
“I’m not drunk,” you state, but the glazed look in your eyes is much too telling for the statement to be even close to the truth. “And I don’t want those.”
“Suit yourself, princess,” Jungkook says. “Yeonwoo wants to know what you did with your ID—said something about you flicking it at the bartender’s face when they said you looked a little young?”
“Fuck,” you mutter, looking panicked. “I’ll be right back.”
When you leave, Jungkook quickly snaps his fingers in front of Taehyung’s face in succession, his face grim. “Get that lovesick look off of your face, idiot.”
“I’m not—”
“Shut up, I saw you,” Jungkook says, poking a finger to Taehyung’s chest. “You’re crumbling, man. Come on—just make it like thirty more minutes until we get everyone home and then you can simp by yourself.”
Taehyung smacks Jungkook’s finger away from him. “Fuck you.”
“You don’t have to be there to clean her up anymore, dude,” Jungkook says, sighing. “That’s what Yeonwoo is for—let her friends be there for her so you don’t have to.”
Taehyung doesn’t say anything and instead, checks the time on his watch. It’s nearing closing time for the bar, so he and Jungkook work to gather everyone up and head back to the parking deck. Surprisingly, it’s a lot harder to corral drunk girls than he remembers; if he or Jungkook takes his eyes off one of you for longer than a second you’ll disappear faster than Taehyung’s moral—a dumb joke that Jungkook whispers to him while walking that he does not find funny in the least bit. 
“Wait, can we go to the river for just a second?” Hyejin says, turning around to face the boys with her hands clasped. “Please—then you can take us all home, I promise!”
Jungkook agrees grudgingly, and Taehyung is happy that he seems to have sobered up as quickly as he got drunk. Alcohol was a weird thing for this group—while you, one to normally hold all your liquor, were close to being blackout, Yeonwoo looked just slightly tipsy after drinking just as much, and Hyejin looked as though she could go for multiple more rounds. 
When Taehyung’s feet hit the cobblestone portion of downtown—he realizes with panic what is happening. 
Unbeknownst to them, Hyejin and Yeonwoo are leading the group to the exact same spot that he and you used as a getaway—it’s your favorite because you can see the boats coming in through the harbor, the lights of the bridge reflecting onto the murky water below and making its surface shimmer. He hopes with all his might that you are not thinking this as well—that your brain is too dizzy with alcohol to put two and two together. 
The last time you two were here, Taehyung kissed you in public, not caring who saw. He wanted to stop the tears that were flowing from your eyes, wanted to stop the hurt and the pain that Hongbin was putting you through—except now, the irony was all your pain was stemming from himself. 
No, not himself. From your actions that caused him to act the way he did. From your indecisiveness, from your selfishness, from your inability to choose what was good, better for you, even. 
The group fans out amongst the dock, leaning on the railing and looking down at the fish in the water or out in the distance at the lights of downtown. Taehyung feels slightly uneasy watching you lean over, but it’s only for a moment before he realizes what you’re doing.
“Y/N,” he says, rushing towards you just as you expel all of what’s on your stomach into the oxford blue water below you. 
“Aw, the fish!” Hyejin whines, and Jungkook cackles at her obliviousness of her friend getting sick beside her. “Y/N, what the fuck!”
Taehyung goes to put a hand on your back, to smooth your hair out of your face so you can finish, but he manages—unfortunately—to catch Jungkook’s stern gaze before he can do so. Jungkook gives him a curt shake of his head, followed by a pointed look at Yeonwoo.
Taehyung reluctantly steps back so she can replace him, giving the two of you some distance. He hates to see you like this—it was rare that this happened—but he hates even more that despite everything that was going on between you two, he still felt an extreme sense of responsibility and compassion to take care of you.
Taehyung’s phone buzzes in his pocket as a welcome distraction: a call from Yeseul that he answers without hesitation. 
“Hey,” he says breathlessly, “what’s up?”
Because he is so busy on the phone with his girlfriend, what he doesn’t see is you cleaning yourself up without him, turning around to look at him laugh on the phone without so much as a backward glance your way. He doesn’t see the hurt on your face, the way your mouth trembles with reluctance to say something, anything that would bring his attention back to you. 
He doesn’t see the way you put two and two together—not about the place you two were at, but at the thought that he took a phone call from Yeseul rather than tending to you, ultimately sealing the path that his heart was taking. 
“What’s wrong, Y/N?” Yeonwoo asks. “Don’t cry.”
“I hate men,” you say, and your friends agree with you because they think this is about Hongbin, about something that happened before you all went out and was only coming to the surface now because you were wasted. 
“Capricorn men? Or just men in general?” Jungkook questions before he can stop himself, and when your deathly gaze falls on him he wishes he’d just shut his mouth. “Uh, sorry.”
“Taehyung, can you help us get her to the car?” Hyejin calls out. 
You snatch away from your friends, defiantly kicking off your shoes and picking them off the ground and into your arms as you stomp towards the parking deck. 
“I don’t need his help,” you growl. “Fuck him.”
When Taehyung sees you walking away without the rest of the group, he quickly wraps up his phone call, jogging back over to assess the damage. 
“What’s wrong with her?” he asks, looking at your squared, angry shoulders in the distance.
“I don’t know—she muttered something about hating Capricorns and stormed off,” Yeonwoo says, shrugging.
“Don’t worry about it, Taehyung,” Hyejin says, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. “Let’s just go get her—that’s not even the right parking deck she’s headed toward.”
Yeonwoo and Hyejin take off after you, leaving Jungkook and Taehyung standing on the dock. 
“Why didn’t you just let me help her?” Taehyung asks exasperatedly. “It wouldn’t have made that much of a difference!”
“You’re not allowed to do anything for her until you sort out your shit,” Jungkook says, crossing his arms. “Otherwise, she’s going to feel like she won, Taehyung. And you’re going to be right back where you fucking started.”
Taehyung stays silent, his jaw squared in annoyance. 
“She’s still with Hongbin, you know. Or did you forget that?”
“How could I forget?” Taehyung spits. 
“Then don’t forget that until she leaves him, she can’t be with you, either.”
The sting that Taehyung feels from that truth hurts, but isn’t entirely unwelcome. He knew it, he just didn’t like admitting it to himself; he certainly couldn’t make you leave Hongbin, and no matter what he did over the past couple of years to prove that he could be good for you, you couldn’t withdraw from the sense of comfort that Hongbin had embedded.
Sure, Taehyung didn’t have the best job, he didn’t come from a rich family and he didn’t have extremely nice things or nice clothes. But did that really make Hongbin the better choice than him? Couldn’t you see that he could treat you just as good—better, even? What was he going to have to do to get you to trust him?
“She’s gotta make the decision for herself, man,” Jungkook says, almost as if reading his friend’s mind. “And you do, too. You haven’t been giving Yeseul one hundred percent of yourself, and you know it. What if you did and it turned out to be better than you could imagine?”
Taehyung shakes his head defiantly. “Let’s just go, man. I need to get home.”
Jungkook sighs, knowing that once again, he hasn’t won this battle with Taehyung. But he hangs it up for now, stuffing his hand in his pockets and pulling out his cigarette pack.
“I’ve smoked more because of your demons than I have over my own,” he admits, giving Taehyung a shitty grin. “Got anything to say to my lungs?”
Taehyung hates that Jungkook pulls a chuckle from him just after busting his balls about you, but it’s nice to balance the mood. There was one good thing about this friendship: Jungkook didn’t dwell.
“Good riddance,” Taehyung responds playfully, laughing just before dodging Jungkook’s swift kick to the back of his leg.
It wasn’t like Taehyung didn’t know he had some things to figure out—some things he’d made harder for himself now, considering the fact that he’d thrown himself into another relationship to avoid dealing with his emotions about you—it was just that he didn’t know where to start. 
It would be easier to talk to you if things on your side were different. But how foolish would he look to confess his honest, true feelings to you knowing that you were still in a committed relationship with your boyfriend? And Taehyung didn’t want to convince you to leave Hongbin, he wanted you to decide it for yourself. 
And then maybe, just maybe, make your way back to him. 
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dvarapala · 3 years ago
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“  people like me don’t get to have peace.  ”
angst time // @squibbed
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"sorry, but i'm going to say something very controversial, and i really think you should sit down for it." though udyati doesn't wait for hurley to sit down. "this is not about you. this is not about you being disadvantaged because you're a squib. you choose to run around all day; you choose the hustling business. and your choices have nothing to do with this."
it looks as though there's a storm brewing underneath her brown skin. "this is, for once, about me. about august collins. and probably harry, too. hook, not potter."
they have a learning disability in common, after all, and hurley's plenty smart. udyati's gonna go out on a limb here and say that - despite not being given a chance to prove himself - his brain works the way it should. he'd excel at potioneering, she's sure.
"you don't know what it's like---" oh yes, he should take a few steps backwards now because for someone who's only five foot six, there's a lot of sadness and rage coalescing in her body right now. "---to be told, constantly, that you're lazy, and stupid despite the fact that you keep trying. and trying. and trying! and it's never, ever enough! for anybody! and they don't help because they don't want to and they don't understand."
and yes, this very much sounds like hurley's situation, udyati is well aware of that. and while her friend's self importance is normally endearing, and managable, right now, she doesn't have energy for cooing or grinning at his theatrics.
"because for me it's not just about every teacher repeatedly failing me and crushing my heart and self-worth into a thousand pieces for years on end, it's also a cultural thing. my mom has so many expectations. and i'm drowning. drowning, hurley." there are cracks in her armor and she's fifteen seconds away from falling apart completely.
her voice is shaking, and, gods, is it her or is it really cold in here?
dark brown doe eyes cut towards her fingertips and she lets out a very unladylike string of curses in hindi when she finds they look blue. she doesn't have to look in the mirror and guess that her body's given up on regulating it's temperature all together.
"if i don't get my act together, my community will look upon her in disdain, more so than they already do, and it will be on me. my dad already ruined things by walking out on her, and i've already ruined her life by being born. i can't add this on top of everything, either."
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