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1-800-kami · 1 year ago

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R U MINE? feat. gojo satoru

gojo satoru has got to be the picture definition of a stereotypical college frat boy. he’s cocky, loaded with his daddy’s money, and dangerously handsome. it seems like common sense to stay away from him since you’ll never get more than a one-night stand out of it.

that’s why you choose to turn a blind eye once you’ve come to the horrific realization: you’re in love with him. and you’re just itching to ask…

“are you mine tomorrow? or just mine tonight?”

IMPORTANT: part two is out! read here :)

content: 8k words, afab!reader, angst! fluff! heartbreak! n everything in between! implied smut, rich college frat boy gojo and hellcat driver geto 🤑, emotional rollercoaster, reader has a toxic ex, trust issues (?) gojo is absolutely insufferable, misunderstandings, use of words hoe, slut, etc., mutual pining, some jjk character cameos (wink wink) me writing very unfunny dialogue, no bc wtf is this, cheating implications, emo gojo (the worst warning of them all)

author's note: hello hello! my name is kami, i've been reblogging fics on tumblr for a while now but i've recently figured out how to work this hellsite, so i'm going to start posting fics that i write! thank you to those who enjoyed my nanami drabble <3 kisses 4 u all.

this fic IS split into two parts and there is smut in the second part. so just. prepare yourselves for that ig.

reblog and interact for a kiss ;)

“so… let me get this straight.”

“go ahead.”

shoko takes a deep breath, and you just somehow know that she’s pinching her nose in exasperation right now. “utahime dragged you out to a party in hopes that you would hit it off with somebody. you wander off on your own and later, she sees you and gojo–THE gojo satoru–giving you his number?!”

“uh, yeah. that’s exactly what happened.”

“do you even understand what you’re getting yourself into?! that man bags hoes like they’re pokemon!” you readjust the phone against your ear and sigh at shoko’s comment.

“okay, first of all, never say that again. second, i rejected all of his advances. i didn’t even save his number.” you stare at the crinkled-up note in your hands, which proudly displays his number and a slick call me if you change your mind ;). you wonder if you could sell this paper to his fangirls–you’d surely make a little bit of cash out of it. “i’ve seen gojo around. i know that i shouldn’t mess with him. plus, he was drunk as hell at the party; i doubt he even remembers my name. to him, i’m just some chick that he’s frustrated at because she didn’t want to fuck him the second she saw him.”

“do you… do you share any classes with him?”

“i don’t think i do.. just, don’t worry about it, okay? i’ll throw away his number and we can put all of this behind us. here, i’ll do it right now.” you rip up the paper into a few pieces before tossing it in the garbage can. hopefully, you did it loud enough that shoko heard it through the phone. “i get that you’re worried for me. and i appreciate that, but i can handle myself.”

“just… no more mention of gojo anymore, okay? you’re right, y/n. let’s just put this all behind us.” shoko sighs, and you smile at that. problem solved. you threw away his number, and he’s most likely moved on to the next girl by now, so that was that. now, you just have to forget about satoru gojo.

all to never let yourself get hurt ever again.

it’s hard to forget about gojo.

not because of those dangerous blue eyes of his–getting anyone lost in them if they stare for too long. not because of his stupid silvery white hair, which makes him look like a mop, and sometimes like a paintbrush. not that stupid cocky grin of his, either…

...but because you’ve recently found out that he sits next to you for physics.

the revelation was truly disheartening. you thought you could avoid him for the rest of the year because as far as you knew, you shared no classes with him. however, you completely forgot about the fact that gojo never attends class in the first place, and you don’t even know what classes he’s in… because he’s never there. so finding out that the seat next to you in physics wasn’t just an empty seat, and it was gojo’s assigned one, was truly an experience.

“gojo.” the name alone makes your heart stop, and you drop your pen to look at the man your teacher was addressing. “finally choosing to attend class for once?”

speak of the devil.

there he was, in all his glory–the man you’d never thought you had to deal with ever again. the man who tried to butter you up with his corny sweet talk so that you would go home with him for the night. the man who persisted with talking to you, even though you were barely interested. the man, who, at the end of the night, insisted on writing down his number for you in case you changed your mind about him and gave him a chance.

you wanted to shrink into your seat and never resurface.

“good morning, yaga!” he says rather loudly, with no regard to honorifics at all. a few giggles could be heard across the classroom–though geto suguru’s voice was prominent–satoru’s equally as infamous bestfriend. “and yeah! it’s surprising, isn’t it?”

what’s also surprising is how gojo took a seat next to you. you thought that there was a mistake, that your teacher would scold him for sitting somewhere he isn’t supposed to sit and relocate him elsewhere. however, yaga just grumbles and begins the lesson, leaving you helpless and unable to look at the man next to you.

you swear he’s burning holes at the back of your head.

pleasdon’tremembermeisweartogodpleasedon’trememberme-

“you’re that girl from the party, right?” he whispers, and you’ve never wanted to disappear so badly in your life. you slowly nod your head, turning to look at him, and he pouts. “y/n l/n. you never saved my number. hmph, i was looking forward to a text from you, too.”

“i’m surprised you even remember me, 'cause you were fucking wasted that night.” you twiddle your pencil, averting your gaze from the man. “and i never saved your number cause i threw the paper in the trash. it’s probably at a landfill somewhere, y’know.”

your words catch him off guard, and you laugh at how surprised satoru looks. it seems that’s definitely not an emotion he shows often. despite his initial reaction, satoru swears he could feel butterflies with the way your laugh sounds.

“not a common problem for a womanizer, huh?”

“what did you just call me?!-”

“y/n and gojo, do either of you have something to share with the class?” a dark blush of embarrassment covers your face, and somewhere in the back, you could hear geto snickering. gojo just smirks at yaga, seeming completely uanffected. “then i’d suggest you stay quiet the rest of this lesson. don’t make me separate you two.”

“i’d prefer that, actually…” gojo huffs at your comment, thinking of this as a lost opportunity if the two of you get separated. he does a once over at your appearance. you’re cute, but definitely not the party kind. you’re playing hard to get, and gojo finds it adorable–not a lot of girls go that way with him. however, gojo thinks you’re not just like any girl. there’s something different about you that intrigues him.

“did no one ever tell you that it’s rude to stare?”

“how could i not? you’re so cute.”

“i thought you already learned from the party, gojo. i’m not interested in you.”

the light blush coating your cheeks says otherwise. he smiles cheekily at the way you tried to hide your reaction to his words. you’re an enigma to gojo… and he’s drawn to you like a moth to a flame. he thinks he’s made his decision.

he’s gonna do whatever’s possible to get your number.

when the bell rings 30 minutes later, you shove your notebook into your bag, eager to finally leave the class that you had with that stupid paintbrush. that is, until he stops you with a question. “what class do you have next?”

he’s relentless. “why do you care?”

“i want to walk you to your next class,” he says, and smirks before saying his next words. “it doesn’t really matter if you tell me or not. i’ll just follow you anyways.”

you sigh, absolutely exasperated with him. he’s like a fly who keeps invading your personal space—always coming back no matter how many times you swat it away. he’s right, though. damn him for being stubborn. “i actually have this period free.”

“oh, sweet!” he chirps, walking with you out the door, making sure to greet geto before he leaves the classroom. “let’s go to the courtyard. i’ll buy you a drink from the vending machine-“

“i was gonna do that regardless if you were here or not.” you give him a look, and you can’t help but tug on your sleeves when you see people whisper to each other as you walk the halls with gojo. of course you’ve heard the rumors. the man next to you is the most popular guy on campus. girls glare daggers at you and the guys call his name, although he barely even acknowledges them.

some common things that you’ve heard about gojo around the school are: “i heard he only talks to girls for sex,” “apparently his best friend geto is just as much of a player!” “i mean, who wouldn’t fuck a guy like gojo, though? he’s hot and loaded.” “that’s how he reels you in, though. he gets his hand in your pants and never calls you back again.” you know you should stay away from him, it’s common sense, but it’s hard to stay away from him when he’s the one who glues himself to your side.

“well, now you’ll get a free drink and we’ll get to know each other! isn’t that great?” he smiles and you just grimace at his words.

“i don’t need your money…”

“don’t care! can’t hear you!” he says, and you’ve seriously considered just making a run for it. at least you’ll lose him, and you’d finally be able to find peace for a bit. although, it would cause a scene, and gojo would probably end up finding you again somehow.

“what can i do to get you to leave me alone?”

that piques his interest, even though he looks slightly hurt by your question. he thinks for a bit, and smirks. “i really do want to buy you something from the vending machine.. and i want you to spend your free period with me. i’ll leave you alone for the rest of the day if you do.”

“do you promise? like, actually?”

“mhm! pinky promise!” you feel like you’re talking to a prepubescent boy.

“then sure-“ you’re about to agree, but he cuts you off with one more condition.

“i also want your number.”

you feel like you’ve been cursed by a god, because having the most popular guy on campus be interested in you has got to be the most chaotic thing to ever happen in your life.

“what do you have me saved as?”

the question comes from out of the blue, and you look up from the book you were completely absorbed in. you and satoru were at the school library, on a “study date” as he calls it, although it was more so just gojo inviting himself to wherever place you go, as per usual. this time, you have an exam to study for, and you explicitly told him not to bother you unless absolutely necessary.

you do have to say, though, he’s not annoying as you thought he was. he just nagged you way more the first day he sat next to you in physics so he could get your number. it’s been a few days since then, but still, you’d definitely be more efficient in your studies if you didn’t have him attached to your hip all the time.

“satoru, i told you not to bother me-“

“unless absolutely necessary. yeah, i heard you, and this question needs an absolutely necessary answer! contact names really say a lot about our relationship, y’know.”

“relationship? nobody ever said we were even friends-“

“don’t break my heart like that, babe. plus, you don’t call me gojo anymore! it’s satoru to you now,” his heart warms at that realization, and you scoff, especially at the pet name. “we are friends, unless you’d like to be something more...”

“if you say anything else i’m calling you by your government name. gojo satoru.” he looks especially wounded by that.

“ah! don’t do that, please. it feels like we’re a married couple and you’re really mad at me.” he cries and you can’t help but giggle at his words. you decide to entertain him a little bit, fishing through your pocket to find your phone.

he almost passes out at what he sees on your screen.

“it’s just my number? you didn’t even save my contact?!-“

the shushes from your fellow students and the librarians aren’t even enough to calm gojo’s agony and despair. it also does nothing to stop your laughter, either.

from that day on, gojo’s contact was forcefully changed from his number to “satoru” (he initially added a heart, but you deleted it, much to his disappointment) and one of his many selfies from his stupid instagram account. how the hell can a college student even have thousands of followers?! you think.

gojo just says that nobody can resist his shirtless post-workout selfies. you’re surprised that you didn’t slap him at his words.

you push him away.

everytime gojo buys your favorite drink, (it’s always on him, despite your genuine insistence in saying that you could pay for your drink just fine.) everytime he walks you to all of your classes each day, (he memorized your schedule just so he could do this) everytime he buys you your favorite foods on the rare instances that you let him take you out for lunch, (usually, this requires a lot of begging, and you mostly relent during class when you’re just exasperated and wanted to get some notes down.), and everytime he calls you by those stupid pet names of his, you think back to what the entire student body says about him, and you think back to your phone call with shoko, where she warns you to not associate with him so you don’t get hurt by anyone ever again, and you push him away.

you push him away even when you realize that if he just wanted you for sex, he would’ve stopped chasing after you when you didn’t text him after that night at the party.

and that thought alone scares you.

still, you’re not heartless. satoru’s been asking to take you out for a while, and you finally agreed to go today. he’s especially chipper about your agreement right now, walking with a slight pep in his step as he bit around his ice cream cone.

the park boasts some beautiful scenery today, and little children are out and about. still, you underestimated the weather, and the cold uncomfortably nipped your arms as you internally cursed yourself out for wearing just a shirt. you crossed your arms as a subtle way to shield yourself from the cold.

“don’t play coy with me, y/n. are you cold?” satoru says with a cocky grin, and you huff at his question. surprisingly, he drops the teasing act and unzips his sweater, handing it to you. “here, take it.”

“satoru-“

“i’m not doing this to flirt or whatever you’re thinking right now. you’re shivering, and i’m just concerned for you, so please wear it.” he deadpans, and it’s the first time you’ve seen him be so… upfront? you kind of like it. it’s not him teasing you or him being flirty. it’s just him showing that he genuinely cares for you as a friend. you take the sweater with a nod and put it on, ignoring how your heart is thumping as you take in his signature smell. cedarwood with a little bit of musk. it’s not an overpowering scent, but it still envelopes your senses.

“nevermind. you look so cute with my hoodie on. i feel like we’re in a j-drama right now, y/n!”

you take back everything you just said.

a few minutes later, you two are near the kids playground when you decide to take a break from walking, sitting on a nearby bench with gojo. the chirping of the birds and the wind passing through the trees is quickly overpowered by loud crying. crying from the child right in front of you, in fact.

you’re about to ask him what’s wrong, but satoru beats you to it. he kneels in front of the kid, and coos, “hey, buddy. what’s your name, hm?”

he stops crying for a moment to look at gojo and shakily responds, “gumi-um, megumi fushiguro..”

“megumi, huh.” he clicks his tongue for a moment. “why are you crying, megumi?”

“i-i don’t know where my dad is!” he cries, and satoru looks to you for help. you just shrug, unsure of what to do with the lost kid, until gojo’s face lights up, assumingly with a great idea.

“he’s most likely just around here somewhere. you can wait with us, and we’ll help you find him! say, do you want an ice cream to help you feel better, megumi?” the boy hesitantly nods, and satoru gives him a thumbs up as he takes him to the nearby ice cream stand. you’re watching this entire scene unfold, absolutely enamored with gojo for the first time. you didn’t think he had a natural talent with kids—but the way he’s making megumi laugh while he happily snacks on his ice cream says otherwise. an outsider could look at you three and assume that you’re just a happy family.

you try to ignore how that makes you feel.

and as you wave goodbye to megumi once he eventually is reunited with his father again, (an intimidating man who gave you two an appreciative nod as he walked away with his son.) you realize something as you tug on the sleeves of your-satoru’s sweater.

you’re in love with gojo satoru.

and fuck, that revelation scares you more than anything. the last time you had given your heart to a man, he had crushed it repeatedly until you decided that you would never let yourself be vulnerable like that ever again.

and now, you're in love with your school’s notorious playboy—and it feels like you’re setting yourself up to be heartbroken again. you want disregard those rumors and shoko’s words so badly, but they still eat at the back of your mind even though the real gojo satoru is right in front of you, and he doesn’t match the characteristics of the gojo satoru in those rumors at all.

you also remember that he has one real best friend, geto suguru. you like to think that this is also what geto sees in gojo. the reason why he’s stuck around.

the reason why you want to stick around too.

you’re so busy in your head that you’ve just noticed gojo frantically waving his hand in your face. “earth to y/n? oh, good! i thought you had, like, a shock reaction from seeing megumi’s father. he looked a little scary, no?”

“he looks like if a muscle came to life and started talking.” you whisper, and he laughs in agreement. burying your hands into the pockets of his hoodie, you smile. you don’t want to think about your current revelation with gojo right now. instead, you’ll stick with the present. and right now, you like the present.

you just don’t want to think about what this means for your future.

it’s the weekend, and you’re doing some work at the local cafe, gojo-free for once. only god knows what the man is doing at three pm in the afternoon on a saturday. not like you should be thinking about him right now, though. his presence alone has caused you to be behind on your studies, and you need to make sure you catch up.

you have to admit, you were a little unused to the silence. usually, the silence would be filled with gojo’s endless banter with you, as well as his terrible, corny jokes that are so stupid you can’t help but laugh. his seemingly never-ending presence was annoying at first, but now, you’re starting to yearn for his company.

it further fuels the pit of uncertainty in your stomach, and you hate it.

shaking your head with a sigh, you take another bite of your pastry and continue typing up the report on your laptop. the looming thought of this report’s impact on your grade and the need to pass this class helps you forget about satoru for a while. once again, you get lost in your academics.

the ring of the cafe bell breaks you from your trance. it was a natural impulse of yours to glance at everyone who entered the cafe, but once you did this time, you felt your heart drop down to your knees.

it was your ex.

your ex boyfriend who destroyed the notion of love for you, because he made you feel it for a short time, only to throw it all into a pit of fire and leave you scrambling to find nothing but ashes.

if you had to find the true roots as to why you’re so afraid to pursue a new relationship–you always find your ex in the center of it. and now, he’s right in front of you. you have to face him again when you refuse to shamefully admit that you’ve barely even healed from the emotional scars that he’d left behind.

you feel as if an invisible hand has wrapped itself around your throat, blocking your airways and your ability to speak.

out of all the days satoru wasn’t here with you, it had to be this one.

“y/n? is that you, sweetheart?” you wanted to vomit at the way he said your name. he had no right to say it so sweetly, when all he’s ever left behind is venom.

“i don’t want to talk to you.” you cringe at the way your voice cracks, and you avert your gaze from him.

“please, just hear me out for a minute, baby..” he coos, and you hate the way he talks to you as if you were a child. “i know i fucked up, and i can’t change our past… but i can change our future together. if you take me back, i’ll show you how much i’ve changed-”

you don’t know how many times you’ve heard that stupid line before.

“god, you sound like a broken record with how many times you’ve pulled that bullshit on me.” you spat, loud enough to draw commotion in the cafe. your ex has surprise written all over his face–most likely due to your non-compliance to his words. “what, do you say that shit to all your hoes?”

your ex looks around, shrinking a little when he sees all eyes are on him. “now, now, y/n, no need to be like that-”

“be like that… be like that?! you’re telling me to be civil when you’re the one coming in here wanting me back, spouting some bullshit saying that you’ve changed, when i told you to leave me alone already!” you scream, and you could feel the tears bubble up in your eyes. you look down, so you aren’t able to see how everyone’s staring at you with pity. god, you hate pity. it makes you feel weak and vulnerable. the two emotions you absolutely loathe. “i just want you to leave me alone, god. i hate you, why won’t you just-”

“you fucking bitch-” he makes a move to lunge at you, and you instinctively take a step back, pure fear enveloping your senses.

you never feel the impact, though, as you see your ex being restrained by the cafe worker.

you remember him. the man who took your order earlier. he was an older man with a warm smile on his face, although you noticed how his cheekbones were slightly sunken, and he looked a little overworked. you jokingly quipped earlier that he should get some sleep before thanking him for making your order. he just replied, i get that quite a lot.

the size difference between your ex and the man is enough to discourage him from fighting back. he makes quick work your ex, dragging him out the door while he hysterically screams profanities to you on the way out. you assumed the worker threatened to call the police, because your ex scrambled up from the ground and ran away. you hoped this was the last time you would ever see him again.

“are you okay, ma’am? he didn’t hurt you, did he?”

you didn’t even realize that the worker was back inside the cafe. everyone was gradually returning to their own businesses, with the eerie silence being replaced by casual chatter once more. you also didn’t realize how much your hands were shaking, and you huff out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. “y-yeah, i’m alright, and he didn’t hit me. i just… need a minute,”

you decide that you aren’t gonna get anymore work done like this, so you pack your laptop into your bag and slump onto the seat with a sigh. you bury your face into your hands. “is it a long story?”

“oh, don’t even get me started.”

he laughs at that, and you ease up a little. “i told him i’d call the police if i ever see him around here again.”

“that’s good to hear. though i’d prefer if i never see him in my life ever again.”

he hums at your words, and he turns to look out the window. “it’s getting dark out. do you want me to call you a cab?”

“no need, i’ll call my boyf–my friend. i’ll call my friend. he’ll uh, pick me up.” you’re still so shaken up you barely even register what you said to him. your eyes are frantic as you turn your phone on and look for gojo’s name in your contacts. you don’t know why you want him to pick you up out of everybody. you could ask utahime or shoko right now, but you just wanted nothing more but to see gojo.

the bell rings again, and you flinch at the sound. thankfully, it was just another customer. the worker sighs. “well, these orders aren’t going to be done themselves. just wave me over if there are any other problems, okay?”

you nod absentmindedly, and he turns to leave, but you stop him. “wait, sir, what’s your name?”

“kento nanami.”

“thank you so much, nanami. i appreciate it.”

“i’m just doing my job.”

“your job is restraining crazy exes of college girls and kicking them out?”

“‘it comes with the job description.” he teases, and you laugh lightheartedly. “and your name is?”

“y/n l/n.”

“anytime, miss l/n. again, just please… call me over if anything happens.”

“will do…” you say, pressing the “call” button on gojo’s contact. the anxiety is hitting you again, and you take a shaky inhale. you’re surprised at how he picks up almost instantly. “hey… satoru? yeah, can you come pick me up, please? i know i don’t normally ask you to do something like this but-”

“did something happen?”

“a lot happened, actually… i’ll text you the address. please, just come soon.”

“of course, y/n.” you could already hear him running out the door, hearing the roar of his car engine coming to life. “i’ll be there as soon as possible.”

he gets to the cafe in five.

you wave goodbye to nanami, thanking him once more as you get in the passenger seat of gojo’s car.

it’s not your first time inside here, but you still can’t help but admire how… expensive everything looks. or maybe you’re just looking around because you’re stalling, and you have no idea where to begin with satoru.

however, you notice that he’s not asking you what happened, and he’s not forcing you to explain anything to him. instead, he switches the gear shift out of parking and says, “do you want me to take you home?”

your eyes widen at his words, and you shake your head no profusely. the last thing you want to be is home alone right now, mainly because your ex knows where you live. you know he most likely won’t go that far with you, especially since nanami knocked some sense into him… but the possibilities still scare you. you take a deep breath before saying your next words.

“...can you take me to your house? i-i’m sorry for asking, i just don’t want to be alone right now cause i’m terrified and-”

“y-yeah. i’ll take you to my house.” he says, and you’ve never seen him so nervous in your life. it almost makes you laugh.

“i’ll explain everything later. i just… wanna be somewhere safe first.” somewhere safe. you find his house as a safe place. gojo doesn’t know how to react. his heart is thumping wildly out of his chest, but he makes sure to put your own comfort before his feelings.

“you don’t have to tell me anything if you don’t want to.” he says, maintaining his cool by keeping his eyes on the road, one hand on the wheel and the other on the gear shift.

“but i want to, satoru…” you say. you can’t believe you’re doing this again. you’re crossing so many territories that you were so afraid to cross because of your ex. now, you think you aren’t that afraid anymore. not if you have satoru by your side.

you place one of your cold hands on the gear stick, interlocking it with his. is he… shaking? “thank you for this.”

still. there are so many things you can’t say to him yet. you don’t know when you’ll be able to… or if you’ll ever be able to.

i love you. i love you but i’m too afraid to say it. i just hope that you’ll be able to wait for me.

“god, you’re killin’ me here, y/n.”

that pit of uncertainty in your stomach has grown so large you feel it's about to consume you whole. you don’t think you mind much, though.

the two of you are lounging at his couch after satoru insisted on telling you to make yourself at home. there’s a movie playing, with neither of you paying attention at all, takeout on the coffee table, two glasses and a bottle of wine after gojo didn’t know what drinks to serve, and freaked out by pulling the first expensive drink out from his parents’ alcohol closet. has he never properly invited someone to his home before?

“so in short, you had a crazy ex who saw you at the coffee shop… and he was begging for you to take him back, and when you went off on him he called you a bitch and tried to hit you…” he recalls, a huge grimace on his face. “tch. the cafe worker shouldn’t have let him go like that.”

“i’m sure he learned not to mess with me after getting humiliated in public.. and nanami did more than enough for me.” you retorted, and he gave you a sour look.

“oh, so you know the worker’s name now?” he says, and you could feel the tension build up in the air. oh. so he wants to do this with you? “what, is he your knight in shining armor?”

“he looks like he’s in his late thirties, satoru. i’m not into older guys,” you roll your eyes at his absurd questions and add, “what’s it to you anyway?”

“what’s it to me, y/n?” he repeats your words, and you could feel an argument coming, like you already didn’t have an exhaustive one with your ex. “you know how i feel about you-“

“what the fuck is that supposed to mean?” your voice is getting louder, all to hide your fear behind the implication of his words. you distance yourself from him on the couch.. much like how you distance yourself from letting satoru get too close to how you truly feel. “we’re not even together, satoru. you don’t get to control the guys that i talk to- hell, have you even seen yourself?”

you’re rambling, and all you want to do is shut up, but you can’t bring yourself to. “i’ve heard what our school says about you. y-you’re a playboy, right? and you only ever talk to girls because you wanna fuck them. i’m not stupid, satoru. i’m not different from any of them, right? you only chase after me because i’m playing hard to get and that pisses you off-“

“what… what are you even saying, y/n?” he asks, and it stops your rambling for a moment. you don’t know what you’re saying. you’re pouring out all the reasons why you’ve tried to push him away, the reasons why you were so afraid to give your heart to him. but now that you say them out loud, they sound outright stupid.

“i started coming to class just to talk to you, i memorized your schedule just so i can walk you to class every morning. i buy you all your favorite food and drinks… i had to memorize your favorites too, by the way. and i have shit memory.” he’s screaming at this point, and you’ve never had satoru scream at you. there are unshed tears in his eyes, and it’s all overwhelming to watch this unfold. “and when you called me, i drove as fast as i could to you because you never call like that and i was fuckin’ worried!”

“so let me ask you a question, y/n… would i do all these things for you just because i want you in my bed?! i’d do anything for you, and you know that!” he’s crying. the gojo satoru is crying, and it’s all for a girl. if you told this to someone in your school, they’d call you a shit-faced liar. gojo satoru doesn’t cry for a girl. he makes them cry.

“i’m sorry for being skeptical, satoru! i just can’t help it when there’s so many rumors about you wanting to fuck girls just for the shit of it – and i’m conflicted on whether or not i should believe them because i want you so bad and i’m scared you’ll end up just breaking my heart and i don’t want that to happen again-”

he cuts you off. “you… what?”

you’re confused at why he looks so surprised, but then you backtrack on your words and you gasp. fuck. why did i say that? you cover your mouth and look away from him, refusing to meet his eyes.

those stupid blue eyes that you know you can’t get enough of.

“y/n… can you please say that again? i don’t want to do anything if i didn’t hear you right.” his voice is soft now, and you swear that you’re dreaming. this isn’t real. right? i’m gonna wake up soon. you dig your nails into the palms of your hands, leaving half-moon marks in their wake. it doesn’t work, and you don’t wake up, and you know you have to accept the fact that this is very real and it’s happening.

this is the worst leap of faith you think you’ve ever had to take in your life.

“i want you so fucking bad, satoru. and i’m realizing that you’re not just the stereotypical rich playboy that everyone talks about on campus—you’re a really great guy, and i guess i’m just scared to face that-” you don’t even realize that satoru’s got you cornered on the couch, and you can’t finish your words as he slots his lips against yours. hard. it’s the most passionate kiss you think you’ve ever had in your life, and it’s got your breath taken away in seconds. holy shit.

you quietly moan against his lips as you kiss back, cupping his face with your hands and wiping his tears away. you wish this moment would last forever, but you pull away so you can breathe. you meet gojo’s eyes, and they’re clouded with lust and desire, but you could tell he’s still a little uncertain. “we’ll talk later… just take me to the bedroom already,”

gojo doesn’t need another confirmation from you, and he lifts you up to carry you to his bedroom, practically tripping on his feet the way there.

a few hours later and a noise complaint from the neighbors, it’s safe to say that gojo satoru was the best one you’ve ever had.

“god, i’m never letting you go, baby.”

he’s tracing hearts onto your bare back. it’s littered with bruises and red scratch marks just from a few minutes ago, but you’ve never felt better in your life. you stare at the man who invited himself into your life just from an encounter at a party, and you thank your lucky stars that you agreed to go with utahime that night. “is something wrong? you’re starin’ again.”

“i’m sorry it took me so long to trust you. i’ve just been scared to open up my heart again, especially after him.” you don’t have to name “him” for satoru to understand.

“i’m sorry too. i just got angry about the rumors and i also disregarded the fact that you’re scared to love again after your ex did all of that shit and-” he pauses, and sighs. “sorry. i’m rambling again.”

he pulls you into another kiss, and this time, it’s sweeter, lighter, and full of love. “i’m going to show you what it looks like to really be loved, because it’s definitely not the shitty picture that your ex painted in your head. there’s way more to it than that.”

“i love you, y/n.”

“thank you, toru.” you whisper. maybe, one day, you’ll be able to find the courage to say it back. and it’s okay, because gojo is willing to wait an eternity for you.

he’ll wait an eternity for you to teach you how to love again.

“look at how beautiful you are…” gojo says, appearing out of nowhere as he wraps an arm around your waist. you yelp, staring at your boyfriend through the mirror. he’s wearing a classic black tuxedo, with no doubt it being very expensive. it compliments the glimmering rolex on his wrist, and the thoughts running through your head about him and his outfit sets fire to your stomach.

“look at yourself first, toru… god, we should just stay home,” you tease, turning around to pull him into a deep kiss. it’s a friday, and gojo’s taking you out to attend geto’s party tonight. the two of you are going for several reasons. he wants to introduce you to his bestfriend, since you realized that you’ve never actually formally met geto before. it’ll also be your first formal “couple appearance”, as if gojo being attached to your side all the time doesn’t say enough about the two of you already.

gojo pulls away, which surprises you. you pout at the expression on his face. “as much as i want to, suguru’s been bugging about you all week. i really do think it’s time for you to meet him,”

“hmph. alright.”

“i’m tearing that dress off of you the second we get home, though.”

“satoru!”

“what?! not my fault my girl looks so damn hot all the time!”

this night is going amazing.

when satoru walks with you through the front doors, arm wrapped around your waist and the dress you picked out for tonight glimmering, you feel a little shy. the guys all whistle at the two of you, and the girls whisper amongst each other, but you and gojo don’t care. in his eyes, you’re the only girl he sees. the only girl worth being with here.

“wanna go get drinks?” he asks you, cerulean eyes showing underneath his sunglasses. you nod, walking to the kitchen with him. you’re getting severe deja vu… you can’t believe you met gojo at the last party you were at. and now you’re at another party, with gojo as your date. you scan the crowd for utahime or shoko, wondering what you would say to them if they saw you with the man they specifically told you not to mess with.

it’s alright, though. shoko was wrong about those rumors, and gojo’s proving it to you.

“satoru!” the playful voice greets your boyfriend, and you turn to see geto suguru. you’ve seen him around campus, and he sits somewhere in the back of your chem class. you haven’t really had the opportunity to talk to him, though… and he looks a little intimidating.

“you must be y/n,” he says, offering you a freshly opened smirnoff from the drinks on the countertop. you thank him and grab the drink, taking a swig.

“yup! my lovely girlfriend,” gojo lets go of his arm around your waist to grab a drink.

“you probably don’t know this, but i’ve been his wingman.” he smiles at gojo, who’s pouting, like he’s preparing himself for what suguru is about to say. “he’s batshit crazy for you, its insane.”

“oh? do tell.”

“when the two of you got together, he left me a voicemail at like… four in the morning? anyway, he was screaming about how he was the happiest guy in the world… or something.”

“that’s because i was!” you’re laughing at how unashamed satoru is about this.

“yeah, yeah, whatever.” geto clicks his tongue, pulling out his phone. “and he’s reposted you on insta to like, every drake song-”

“alright, me and y/n are gonna go dance.” he interrupts suguru, and drags you away from his best friend with a yelp. “nice talkin’ to you, suguru!”

“hey, i wanted to know more!-”

“shh, you don’t need to know about all of that.” the two of you are in the living room, in the midst of all the bodies dancing and grinding against each other. he pulls you close to him, and you feel his hot breath against your neck. “you look so beautiful tonight, y/n.”

“same for you, handsome. let’s dance, shall we?” you wrap your arms around him and just sway to the beat. you’ve never been much of a dancer, but everything feels natural as long as gojo’s with you.

suddenly, the music changes, and one dance starts playing. you two look at each other, and you both burst out laughing at the same time. “have you reposted me to this song?”

“duh. it’s a classic.”

“can’t disagree with that.” you say, finding yourself grinding against satoru while wizkid’s part plays in the background. it feels like such a perfect night–you’re pulling satoru into a deep kiss, and he shoves his tongue down your throat while he’s leading you to a nearby couch. you’re seated on his lap, mimicking practically every couple in this party tonight.

suddenly, you pull away, and you whisper, “i need to use the bathroom.”

satoru smirks at your words, thinking that it’s a hint for something else, and you give him a sour face. “want me to join you-”

you hit his chest playfully. “that’s not code for anything, you perv. i actually need to piss.”

he’s pouting at your words, but he lets you off his lap anyway, and holds your drink for the time being. “it’s at the second door in the hall to your right. be quick, please.”

“no duh. i’ve got a cute date to come back to,” you say, walking away and traversing all of the bodies that smell like sweat and alcohol. you’re a little unused to this environment, but it’s alright. you fix up your makeup in the bathroom and freshen up a little, walking back to the living room to find satoru again.

you wish you never did.

you were gone for four minutes. five minutes max. you come back to satoru, and your breath hitches at the sight.

on his lap was a random chick that looked like every other girl at this party. she was practically naked, since her outfit didn’t do much to cover her skin at all.

fuck.

you remember the first time you saw gojo at the last party you went to. the sight wasn’t that different compared to the one now. there were girls all over him, all fighting for his attention. and yet, it seemed that night, his attention was focused solely on you.

what bullshit that was.

your eyes are blurry, and the music is muffled in your ears. white noise fills your senses, and all you want to do right now is run.

so you do.

you run, not caring if gojo saw you at all or not. you run out of the party, eternally grateful that you didn’t pick out heels for tonight and settled for much simpler shoes. you run, despite the fact that you drew geto’s attention. you were already out the door before he could ask what was wrong. you run, just wanting to get away from everyone and everything. you run with no particular destination in mind. you stop running when you almost get run over on a red light, the car honking at you–screaming profanities as it drives by. it breaks you from your trance, and you sit on the curb of the sidewalk, letting all of your tears out on what was supposed to be a perfect night.

of course gojo didn’t think that you were different. you were just like every other girl to him.

stupid. stupid. stupid. you’ve never felt so stupid in your life.

when geto sees you running out the door with unshed tears in your eyes, he immediately panics. what the hell happened?

he goes through every room of the house, trying to find gojo, when he hears a bunch of commotion in the living room. he runs there, pushing past everyone, only to find a total disaster inside.

he sees gojo screaming at a girl dressed like a stripper, who was on the ground with tears in her eyes. satoru looks like he’s about to pop a blood vessel with how pissed he looks. there’s a crowd forming at this point, and geto knows he needs to intervene, so he drags his bestfriend away, who looks so distraught that geto could just wonder what the fuck happened.

they’re outside now, and its significantly a lot more quiet out here compared to all of the chaos inside. all the noise is coming from gojo—who won’t stop crying, and geto has no idea what to do or where to even begin. “fuck!”

“dude, what the fuck happened!?” satoru looks like he’s feeling every emotion at once. he looks pissed, pissed enough to punch a wall, and geto’s a little afraid that gojo might actually do that–or worst-case scenario, punch him. he’s crying, and geto hasn’t seen gojo cry ever since he fell off a swing in pre-k, so what happened must be really fucking serious.

“i don’t KNOW what happened, goddamnit! y/n went to use the bathroom and some slu- some girl came up to me and threw herself on my fucking lap! i was gonna tell her to fuck off but y/n saw before i was able to and now she’s gone and she probably thinks that i’m just some cheater when i’ve worked so hard to get her to trust me and-FUCK!”

he stops, trying to calm down a little, and gojo takes the shakiest breath he thinks he’s ever taken in his life. the red in his vision starts to fade, but he still feels helpless. “i just don’t know what to fucking do, suguru.”

“i just saw y/n run out of my house a few minutes ago.” he says with a grimace, and he’s trying to figure out what to tell his bestfriend. “i’ve never seen you like this over a girl before. holy shit, you really love her, do you?”

geto thinks that gojo’s bloodshot eyes, the brutal names that he called that girl at the party, and the tears he’s shed for you are already an answer.

“this is your last chance to prove it to her, satoru.” geto fumbles through his pockets and hands him the keys to his challenger. gojo snatches them, hearing the car engine rumbling itself to life. the white-haired man thanks his best friend as he steps into the drivers’ side, with geto reassuring him, ‘ill deal with the chaos inside, you go ahead and explain yourself to your girlfriend’.

gojo swears that he’s never driven so fast in his whole life.

part 2 :)

#kami writes #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru angst #gojo satoru fluff #gojo satoru comfort #gojo x reader angst #gojo angst #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #satoru gojo #gojo satoru x y/n

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gradelstuff · 2 years ago

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I've been interested in reading TCF again, but I read the spoilers of what happens to the dragon half-blood and I think I will officially drop TCF from my hiatus list. I won't be reading the series in the future.

The dragon half-blood was a plot point I was genuinely invested in. Knowing he dies, never gets a real name, and becomes a bone dragon just hurts me. I genuinely cared about that guy, and knowing his pain and torture only led to him getting killed off just wrecks me. He did a lot of awful stuff but so did other characters in Cale's group and I was hoping he would eventually be redeemed.

No, I don't think him dying and becoming a bone dragon is a good ending for him. It only made him another useful powerhouse for Cale (which he didn't need imo; literally, the half-blood could live and STILL be useful to Cale in other ways).

Idk. I got too caught up in my compassion for the dragon half-blood. I can't help but feel like he was treated dirty. White Star ruined his life, Cale never cared if the guy lived or died, and the people capable of saving him never bothered to show him any sympathy. Every chapter featuring the half-blood was like reading a ticking time bomb, and knowing he does die in the end sucks. He has the worst childhood/past and he's reduced to a freaking bag of bones 🤦‍♀️

I'm probably missing a lot of context but I don't wanna continue reading if the dragon half-blood does become a bone dragon and stays that way. It just hurts too much

#blogging #feel free to unfollow me if you've only been wanting to know if this continues or not #honestly i saved myself the heartbreak by not reading 200+ chapters to only feel disappointment in the end #the half-blood was one of those iconic characters i could never forget in the story and giving tragic characters shitty endings #just kills my whole mood for the story. yeah i won't be continuing this #all i can do is hope the webtoon deviates from this plot point in a more positive direction ugh #me.txt #long post #tcf spoilers #(in case i end up in the t/cf tags sorry yall)#dont wanna spoil new ppl accidentally im just sad ok

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ddejavvu · 1 month ago

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pairing: james potter x reader

summary: your yule ball date goes south. James picks up the pieces

a/n: this is relatively close to a scene that's gonna be in a large marauders fic i've had as a WIP for forever so if you read that in a year and think hm that sounds vaguely familiar no it literally doesn't

You've never felt any strong kinship towards James Potter before, but now, shoulder to shoulder, equally stunned looks on your faces, you know you share an experience most don't.

"Well," James hums, dazedly, free from anger even if it should be present, "Alright then."

Neither of your should-be ball dates look up from where they're snogging each other in one of the utility closets covered up by paper streamers and an appetizer table, and you feel irritation begin blooming in your chest the way that they won't even look at you. Perhaps they can't hear you, perhaps there's fireworks in their heads and they're sharing one of those everything-else-melts-away moments.

Good for them.

You turn on your stiletto heel and head pointedly but casually towards the door to the balcony. You're eager for the cool night air on your skin- the crowd seems suffocating now. You snag a bottle of something you're sure was meant for the professors on the way out, keeping it tucked to your side to ensure no one sees you leave with it. It's amber in color and you'll figure out what it is later; right now your only concern is getting out.

You examine your feelings staring out over the grounds, moonlight bathing your skin and making the gems on your dress glimmer. You should be sad. Devastated, even, what with your date shacking up with some other girl when he should have been dancing with you. But you're not.

It's an unpleasant feeling, but it's betrayal more than heartbreak. You suppose you were never really head over heels for the boy you'd agreed to go with, it was just nice to be asked. To be wanted.

A wistful love song leaks out from the open doors to the ballroom, and you chew on its lyrics as you fit your mouth around the spout of your bottle. It warms you, your tongue suddenly heavy and tingling as you swallow a fair mouthful of the stuff.

"That was a sloppy grab," Someone calls from behind you, and you're surprisingly not tense when you recognize it as Potter's, "Someone could have seen you."

"We're not all mischief makers, Potter," You let the ghost of a smile cross your face as you stare out over the grounds, liquor residue leaving them sticky, "You should teach a class on smuggling things in and out of the school."

"I have thought about being a professor here," He admits, taking the place beside you and leaning out over the railing, "DADA if I could get it. Don't think Minnie's goin' anywhere or I'd go for Transfiguration."

"She'll be teaching our grandkids," You laugh, "And god save this school if you're ever hired."

"I'd be great." He assures you, a laugh in his eyes rather than his mouth, "So. Are you- ehm, okay?"

"Yeah." You shrug, your bare shoulders catching the slight breeze where your dress cuts them out, "It's- I'm fine. He wasn't the love of my life. Just sucks he lead me on is all."

"Right. Me too." James nods, "I- I wanted things to work with her. But I suppose in ten years I saw myself with someone else."

You attempt another sip of liquor after a bout of heavy silence, but James's hand holds the bottle away from your mouth, "Hey, slow down, killer! Liver failure is not a good method of revenge."

"Two sips won't kill me," You scoff, but you don't fight him when his large, warm hand takes the bottle from you, "You just want some for yourself."

"Yes and no." He grins, taking a swig of his own, "For courage, I s'pose. And dance moves."

You raise a brow at him, listening as the song changes from a ballad to a swinging one, something that makes you want to let loose and experiment with moves you've seen only middle-aged men showcase at weddings.

"Come on." He offers you a hand, setting the bottle aside and straightening off of the railing, "Come on, you've gotten dressed up to dance tonight, and there's no one else out on this balcony. Just you and me, let's do it."

"I got dressed up tonight to fuck," You clarify, but you're not sure if you really mean it- anything to ward away any good luck that comes to you before it sours like most things seem to be tonight.

"Well that can come after. I'm not fond of exhibitionism," James explains, hand still outstretched as you straighten your dress instead of taking it, "Come on. I'm about to lay out some truly heinous dance moves and I'll be making a fool out of myself if you don't join me."

The beat of the song really is tempting, an oldie but goodie that you'd danced to in your bedroom a thousand times before.

With a decisive huff you surge forwards, taking his hand and letting yourself relax into the rhythm the song sets for the pair of you. James is not wrong- he's a sight to behold while he's dancing, but you let him be your example and soon you're both choking on laughter as you swing each other across the balcony and dance circles around each other. The song dies down into another ballad and you let James press you politely against him, his hands never straying further than your waist as you hold his shoulders.

"I'm almost glad he ditched me," You muse, chest heaving slightly from exertion, "I don't think he would have danced with me like that."

"Mine was- uhm, she wasn't fantastic conversation." James admits, "I feel bad, but-"

"No, she's an airhead." You nod, knowing all too well that the girl James had escorted into the ballroom tonight did perhaps everything in her power to never have an intelligent thought, "It's harsh but it's true."

He nods, and your head comes to rest comfortably against his chest, cheek pressed into his dress robes.

"Thanks, James." You murmur, squeezing his shoulders gently. You feel more than hear his response, but the soft, suddenly tender, 'My pleasure, Y/N.' warms you more than the liquor had, the perfect antidote to the cool air out on the balcony as you sway in time with James.

#james potter x reader #james potter imagine #james potter scenario #james potter oneshot #james potter one shot #james potter one-shot #james potter headcanon #james potter headcanons #james potter hc #james potter hcs #james potter fanfiction #james potter fanfic #james potter fic #james potter blurb #james potter drabble #james potter dialogue #james potter fluff #james potter x reader fanfiction

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athenamikaelson · 3 months ago

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Klaus Mikaelson x Soulmate!reader x Elijah Mikaelson Part 12

Warnings- 4.2k

Word Count- Swearing, violence, mentions of sex

“Is he my father or not,” My voice seems to echo throughout our family's little living room as I glare at my mother.

“It’s not that simple, Y/N,” My mother raises her hands in surrender as she begins to take a step closer to me. The dark glare on my face seems to halt her movements and she closes her eyes and sighs.

“He’s the man that raised you, he-”

“You. Know. What. I. Mean,” I cut her off, biting out each of my words, “I want the truthful answer. Is Y/F/N Y/L/N my biological father?”

I seem to lose all the air in my chest as I watch my mother drop down onto the couch and look up at me with tears running down her face. And that’s all I need to have my answer.

“Oh my god,” I cover my mouth as my chest starts concaving on itself. Tears cloud my vision as I stare at my mother. Her tears mimicked my own. And a wave of anger flows through my body. She was crying as if she was the victim here. She was crying in front of her emotionally and physically wounded daughter as if this wasn’t her fault.

I sit on the dark coffee table in front of my mother, our knees touching as I stare at her, “You’re going to tell me everything. And don’t even try lying to me.”

My mother looks up at me and nods as she puts her head in her hands, “Eighteen years ago your father and I were having problems. We’d been married 3 years and still couldn’t conceive. It took a toll on both of us. I got depressed and well… you know how your father gets when he is upset,” She looks up at me and I slightly nod as a wave of nausea passes over me, “Your father was out of town for the night and so I thought I would go down to a little bar outside of town. I was there for about an hour before I thought of leaving. But right when I was about to,” she pauses in thought for a moment then continues, “The most beautiful man I’d ever seen approached me. We talked throughout the night and then,” She looks at me to see if I understand where she was going and I nod disgusted.

“After I did what I had done I had never felt more disgusted with myself in my entire life. You have to believe me Y/N,” She reaches out to take my hand but I flinch away from her.

“Does Dad…or your husband know,” I ask but a part of me already knows the answer.

“When I fell pregnant with you soon after, you have to understand how happy your father was, I had never seen him that in love with something in the time I’d known him. You saved our marriage, Y/N. But… as you got older and you developed more of your own features and personality, neither of which were like me or him… I think your father realized or suspected that you weren’t his.”

My eyebrows furrow as I try to hold back my tears and sobs, “Is that why he…am I the reason he left?”

My question has my mother quickly shaking her head, “Your father and I had our own problems and even if it was because of that, it still isn’t your fault. He is still your father, he is the one who raised you.”

I stand up quickly, making sure not to move too much to upset my wounded arm, which is currently in a sling, and I huff out an angry laugh, “Raised me! Raised me?! I saw that man maybe once or twice a month for 16 years and in those few moments, all he caused was torture and heartbreak in my life. That man didn’t raise me! And looking at you now… I realize that you barely raised me too… I raised myself. Just like I’ve raised Theo,” I walk backward out of the living room as I shake my head at my mother, “I’ll never forgive you for this. Never.”

I hear my mother call out to me as I grab my keys and run out of the house. Rain pours down on me, dampening my clothes as I throw open my car door and turn it on.

I drive around trying to decide my next move, and somehow I end up in the Salvatore’s driveway.

I’m practically on auto-pilot as I walk up the stairs to the front door, I bring my hand up and knock, and within a moment it slams open and Damon stares down at me.

“What the hell do you…Y/N,” He pauses as he stares at my tear-filled eyes, “What happened? Are you hurt?”

I just stare at him and he takes a step forward and brings a hand to my arm. His touch seems to bring me out of my stupor and tears explode from my eyes as I throw myself into Damon’s arms. He doesn’t react for a moment as I cry into his shirt, but after a moment I feel his arms come and wrap around me.

“You want to…um, talk about it,” Damon asks quietly as if he’s not really sure how to comfort a teenage girl.

“My dad,” I hiccup out a sob, “Isn’t my dad!”

I feel Damon nod and he hums, “Um, sure, ok. Not entirely sure what that means,” He says the last part under his breath.

“I can’t go home. I can’t see my mom,” I pull away from Damon and I wipe the tears away from my face with my t-shirt sleeve.

Damon looks down at me for a moment before he turns sideways and gestures to the living room, “Then you’re going to stay here. For as long as needed.”

—

-2 months later-

“Hurry up hoe! This party isn’t going to decorate itself,” Caroline’s cheery voice calls up to me as I leave my bedroom at the Salvatore’s.

“I’m coming Caroline, chill out,” I laugh to myself as I descend the stairs to where Caroline is standing. She shoots me a bright smile that rivals the sun when she sees me.

“I can’t believe you’re still living here,” Caroline says as she grabs my hand and pulls me down the hall.

I laugh awkwardly, “Ya, I guess I just like the bed here better than the one at my house.”

“And your mother really doesn’t care,” Caroline asks and I flinch at the mention of the woman I haven’t talked to in two months.

“Um, ya. Theo’s away at some football camp until school starts and my mom’s always working so she doesn’t care.”

“You’re so lucky that you’re mom is so chill,” I laugh at the irony of that. My mom being “too chill” is the reason I’m not living at home right now. Caroline doesn’t know that though so she shoots me an odd look as she must’ve heard me laughing to myself.

After finding out about my paternal issues and moving in with Damon I made up a lie to all my friends that the reason I was living with him was that I needed a little vacation from my life, and not that I’m pissed off at my mom and scared to go home because it means I’ll have to face the reality of my life now.

Damon is currently the only one who knows of my new ��bastard” status. Even though sometimes I feel like strangling him, he has honestly been kind of a great friend these past two months. He’s gone along with my lie, not even telling Elena, who he is totally in love with. Damon and I have even started our own movie nights. Right now we’re bingeing the TV show Supernatural. He and I both like Dean, but our reasonings are a little different. God, I love Jensen Ackles.

We’re postponing our movie night tonight because Caroline and I, mostly Caroline, are throwing Elena her 18th birthday party. Elena told me to promise her that we wouldn’t make the party too big, but I kind of had to cross my fingers behind my back when I made that promise because when it comes to Caroline Forbes, no one will get in the way of her party making plans.

“Good morning,” I look over to see the birthday girl smiling up at me as Caroline and I enter the living room. She and Tyler, who nods hello at me, are going through boxes upon boxes of party supplies.

“It’s 1 pm,” I say back to her and she frowns and checks her watch.

“Oh… Good afternoon then,” She laughs sheepishly.

I walk down the steps and bring her into a hug, “Happy birthday, Elena!”

I can hear Elena sigh and she pulls away from me, “Thank you,” Her vision goes from me to the boxes surrounding us, “I thought you said this was going to be lowkey?”

It’s my turn to smile sheepishly at her as I gesture towards Caroline, who is currently bitching to Tyler about hanging a streamer wrong, “You try getting in the way of her planning something. I love you Elena, but I’m more scared of her.”

Elena turns to look at Caroline as well and we both cringe when she hits Tyler over the head with a hard plastic plate.

“Good point,” Elena whispers out.

—

“I feel like I have to fight Damon every single time we get a lead on Stefan,” Elena’s complaints have me side-eyeing both Caroline and her. I try to busy myself with unraveling some string lights, trying not to seem suspicious in any manner. I’m the only one here who knows really just how much Damon knows about Stefan’s “activities” this summer.

About 3 weeks ago I found the articles about Stefan and he who shall not be named in Damon’s closet when I was going through Damon’s things. He’d gone through my things so I thought I’d return the favor.

When Damon found out I knew he made me promise to keep it to myself. Only he, myself, and Ric could know. Damon didn’t want to worry Elena about all the killing Stefan had been doing. So “The Squad,” as I like to call us, have been researching different “animal killings” around the US this summer. Unfortunately, Damon and Ric won’t let me go on any of the road trips with them so I’ve been stuck at the Salvatore house this summer.

“Maybe he doesn’t wanna find him,” Tyler’s comment makes me cringe slightly at the irony.

“Tyler!”

“What? He’s into you. Isn’t he” He asks Elena.

“The only reason Stefan left with Klaus was so that he could save Damon’s life,” Elena explains as she takes the supplies Tyler handed her, “I mean, trust me Damon wants to find him.”

You have no idea.

“But…you kissed him. Probably screwed with his head,” Tyler says and Caroline and Elena whip around to look at him while I hover a hand over my mouth to keep me from giggling. I’ve made fun of both Elena and Damon on multiple occasions this summer about the “kiss of death,’’ as I like to call it.

“Tyler,” Caroline exclaims and Elena shoots her an “Are you serious” look.

“I’m sorry,” Caroline apologies wholeheartedly.

Elena raises her hand and shakes it, “I…Don’t worry about it. Look, yes, I kissed him, but it was a…”

“Kiss of death,” I say under my breath, but Elena still hears me and shoots me a glare.

“It was a goodbye kiss. I thought he was gonna die,” She tries to explain herself but Tyler shoots me a look and I have to fight off a laugh.

Elena fishes her phone out of her pocket, “I just missed a call from Bonnie,” She says.

At the mention of my witch friend, I perk up, “Tell her I say hi!”

Elena nods in agreement as she leaves the room. As soon as she goes, Caroline groans and whips around to stare at the werewolf.

“Just because I tell you things, doesn’t mean you’re allowed to know them,” She exclaims at him to which he apologizes.

“I gotta run if I’m gonna change and pick up Sophie in time,” He says as he waves goodbye to me.

“Wait, you’re bringing a date? Slutty Sophie is your date,” Caroline asks and I frown at the nickname she gave her.

“Hey,” Tyler turns around, “It’s been kinda slow in that department. And… I’m horny all the time now.”

“Ya, tell me about it. Sometimes I feel like I’m gonna explode” Caroline agrees and I gag out loud.

“Ok, has no one here ever heard of too much information,” I say as I make a show of covering my ears. I go back to decorating trying to block out the obvious sexual tension between the vampire and wolf as they talk about their sex lives, or lack of.

“Bye Y/N,” Tyler’s voice calls out to me and I just wave him off, which makes him laugh.

I turn around and watch Tyler walk out of the room and then I turn to my blonde friend, “Well, that was painful to watch…and hear.”

Caroline groans and throws the cups she has in her hands back onto the table in front of us, “Tell me about it. I just…ugh, I don’t know,” She groans in annoyance again as she picks up some streamers and tape.

“Can we talk about something else, please?”

I laugh slightly at her pleading tone and nod, “Sure, what about?”

Caroline thinks for a moment before turning to me and smirking, “About the guy you’re bringing tonight.”

I roll my eyes at the insinuation in her voice, “It’s not like that at all. Alastair is a work friend. He’s new to town and I thought he could use some more friends.”

“Is he cute,” She raises her eyebrows suggestively and I shoot her a look.

“Some might say that but I’m not into him like that, and he’s definitely not into me like that either,” I respond.

“And how would you know that,” She questions.

I think back to all the times I’ve seen him ogling the male customers at work and smile to myself, “Just a hunch.”

“When did you meet the guy again?”

“Around the start of the summer when I started working at The Grill. He got a job right after me and we’ve been put on the same schedules at pretty much the same times, oddly enough. He moved from Louisana, I believe.”

Caroline nods, “And he doesn’t know about…you know what?”

I shake my head, “As far as I can tell he’s a perfectly normal NON-supernatural guy.”

“Unlike Elijah right,” I glare at Caroline because of her comment which only makes the smirk on her face deepen.

“And unlike Tyler, right,” I smirk back at her and we both drop the subject on both of those men. Caroline got the jist about my little “friendship” or whatever it was with Elijah when she, Elena, and I, accidentally got into Jenna’s wine supply a few weeks ago. He also told me about her confusing feelings about Tyler.

“Okay fine, changing the subject again,” She thinks to herself before frowning and looking at me, “Wait…when did you say your birthday was again?”

I frown at the question, “I didn’t say it.”

Caroline shoots her hands up in the air like a mad woman, “Well then tell me, hoe!”

I fight back a groan at her question and I don't want to answer but knowing Caroline she won’t stop bringing it up unless I tell her, “It was a few weeks ago.”

Caroline stares at me in shock as she drops the streams she currently holding. A wee bit dramatic might I add.

“Excuse me! Why didn’t you tell anyone,” She practically screeches at me.

I shrug as I go back to untangling the lights I’ve been working on, “Elena has asked but I always just brush it off. Damon also knows, but he doesn’t celebrate birthdays either so I didn’t have to worry about him throwing me a party.”

Caroline’s eyes practically fall out of her head at my words, “So you did absolutely nothing for your birthday!?”

I just shake my head as if it’s nothing, “I don’t ever celebrate my birthday, Care. I haven't in years… I mean Damon and I had a pizza night, but other than that, no not really.”

Caroline continues to stare at me in shock as she comes over to me and throws her hands onto my shoulders, “Y/N Y/M/N Y/L/N I solemnly swear I will be throwing you a huge 18th birthday party very soon. And it will make you change your mind about not celebrating.”

I go to argue but she puts a finger to my lips, “Hush hoe. I’ve already started planning in my head.”

Someone kill me now.

—

“Well, don't you just look Darling,” Damon's sarcastic voice sounds from behind me as I flatten out my dark blue dress.

I turn around and see him wearing the same color top, “We’re matching!”

Damon looks at his top and then the color of my dress and groans, “You really need to move out. We’re starting to become the same person.”

I frown slightly at his comment and I think he notices because he clears his throat, “That was a joke, Pukey. You practically have already made this entire place yours I doubt you’re moving out anytime soon.”

“And yet you still won’t let me paint the walls,” I gesture to the wooden walls of my bedroom.

Damon shoots me a glare as he raises his arm for me to take, “The wood on these walls costs more than some of the houses in this town. I’d rather die than let you paint them.”

I walk over and grab his arm and he leads me out of my room and down the hall where I can hear dozens of people yelling and music blaring.

“Did you find anything about-” Damon shushes me before I can finish my sentence.

“No talk about that tonight. Only happy drunk thoughts tonight,” I want to argue but I notice the tension in his shoulders and drop the topic for a later time.

“Where’s the birthday girl?”

Damon slightly glares at the young teens that surround us, “With Blondey. Somewhere.”

“Y/N!”

The sound of someone calling my name has me turning around. I smile once I’ve found the caller. Alastair’s bright smile shines at me as he pushes through the hordes of people. His dark skin contrasts beautifully with the white button-up shirt he’s wearing. Dark slacks cover his long legs and I have to fight back a laugh at how put together he looks compared to the rest of the people around us who look like they picked out the first piece of clothing they could find in their closets.

Alastair slightly grabs me out of Damon’s arms and brings me into a hug, “You look beautiful.”

His compliment makes a warm feeling coat my cheeks as I look at him. “You don't look so bad yourself,” And I’m not lying either. He’s shaved down his hair again since the last time I saw him so he’s rocking a buzz cut that makes him appear even more striking and his dark brown eyes sparkle against the bright lights that Caroline and I had previously hung up around the house.

“I fear I might’ve overdone it a bit. It has been awhile since I’ve been to a highschool party” He jokes as he gestures toward his attire.

“You think,” Damon’s sarcastic tone has me turning to glare at him.

“Alastair this is Damon,” I gesture to the man beside me.

Alastair who is usually all smiles seems to glare at the vampire next to me for a moment before brightly smiling at him, “Pleasure to meet you, Damon.”

Damon just stares at him for a moment, “Y/N lives here with me. So if I find you in her room later I will kill you,” He threatens and then shoots him a fake smile, “Other than that, enjoy the party.”

My eyes practically fly out of my head as I watch Damon’s retreating figure leave the room and I quickly turn back to Alastair to apologize.

“Don’t worry about it. It’s good he’s protective over you,” He smiles at me and reaches out his hand for me to take, “Want to get a drink?”

“Oh definitely,” I sigh dramatically as I put my hand in his.

We start walking but I catch Alastair and a blonde guy staring at each other as we walk by him. I smirk to myself and then look up to my friend with a raised eyebrow.

“Not a word,” He laughs out.

“I didn’t say anything!”

Alastair rolls his eyes as we approach the refreshments table and he hands me a bottle of water and I shoot him a questioning look.

“We’re so not drinking whatever is in that punch. Who knows if someone spiked it with something? Water is a safe choice,” I begin to laugh thinking he’s joking but at the serious look on my friend’s face I stop.

“A little worried are you?”

“There’s nothing wrong with being a little cautious,” He opens up my bottle of water for me and smiles, “Also what’s with the text I got from your blonde friend this afternoon about you having a birthday party?”

I groan loudly and I can hear Alastair laugh, “How did she even get your number?”

He shrugs his shoulders, “I’d like to know as well,” He looks down at me for a moment then frowns, “You really didn’t tell anyone about your birthday?”

I just shrug, “I told Damon. But other than that no. I don’t celebrate it, and whatever Caroline is planning you definitely don’t have to come.”

Alastair shakes his head defiantly, “Oh you bet your ass I’ll be there. Going to get you a pretty present with a bow and everything.”

I put my head in my hands and sighed, “I hate you.”

Alastair laughs and takes my hands away from my face, “You love me and now you’re going to dance with me.”

I’m surprised at the strength of my friend as he leads me to the dance floor that's filled with teens dancing and grinding together.

“You sure you don’t want to go and find that blonde guy,” I yell to him over the music and he rolls his eyes.

“You’re stuck with me, babe. I’m not going anywhere”

—-

“Call me if you need anything alright,” Alastair says to me as I walk him to his car. After dancing for about an hour the party started to die down when people couldn’t find the hostess or the birthday girl.

“I’m going to see you tomorrow at work. I think I’ll be fine until then,” I smile at him as he gets into his car.

“I know, just making sure you know you can call me for anything,” He says through his open window as he starts his car.

“I know.”

“Ok, I’ll wait for you to get back inside before leaving,” He nods towards the front door.

“Ok, bye,” I wave to him and start walking to the front door, I turn to look over my shoulder and find that he hasn’t taken his focus off me for a second it makes me unnerved but I shake it off and open the front door.

As soon as I step a foot inside I hear the squealing of tires and I turn to see Alastair peeling out of the driveway. Guess someone’s in a rush.

I walk into the living room and sigh as I see the damage that was done by the hordes of kids. Bottles and trash line the walls as streamers and the decorations we had worked so hard to put up are lying all around the floor. I start to walk down the steps to start picking up when a loud bang comes from upstairs.

I frown as I start walking towards the stairs, but as soon as I hear another loud bang I start running. I find myself in front of Damon’s bedroom as I watch the vampire throw and break anything he can get his hands on. I call out to him but he seems to be in his own world of destruction right now. I start to approach him like someone would a rabid animal and I freeze as he turns to look at me. Dark veins appear under his eyes as he glares at me. He starts walking towards me and I put up my hands.

“Damon, what’s wrong? What happened,” He gets closer and I’m about to run off but he grabs me. I shriek escapes my mouth before I realize what he's doing. He's hugging me.

“Damon? What’s wrong,” I slowly wrap my hands around his waist as he holds me tighter. Almost tight enough to bruise, “What happened?”Damon is quiet for a moment before he whispers out a growl, “Stefan.”

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surielstea · 2 months ago

Text

Your Needs, My Needs

Request made by @loving-and-dreaming

Pairing: Cassian x Fem!Reader

Summary: With the return of Cassian’s ex, Reader makes the decision to distance herself from him— but hasn’t expected him to notice.

Warnings: A teensy bit of angst, mostly fluff!

A. Note: Sorry this is so short, I just began writing for Kinktober and started pouring all my focus into that and totally forgot about my reqs, hope this is enjoyable nonetheless :)

1.3k words

The past week has been hell.

Cassian and I haven't touched or had a meaningful conversation in seven days. All due to the return of his ex.

Alora was back from her three-year-long expedition of traveling courts and making connections. Cassian and her called it off before she left, it seemed mutual, and neither of them was too broken up about it so when me and Cassian got much closer over those three years it hadn't felt wrong.

But now she was back, and I was determined to save myself from the heartbreak of being the other woman.

So I distanced myself, backed away, stopped my lingering stares and cuddling on the couches, and stopped the flirty teasing and banter altogether.

We sat in the training ring, panting and out of breath, drinking from our waters silently. We used to sit shoulder to shoulder— despite the heat emanating from our bodies, we preferred to be close, but now there was a noticeable gap between us and it cleaved my heart in two.

I glance over at the winged male to see him already gazing at me. I give him a polite smile, trying not to fumble with my water as I avert my stare and place the bottle down beside my feet.

"What are you doing?" He suddenly asks and my brows crease, glancing back over to him, the hurt expression on his rough yet handsome features.

"Trying to catch my breath?" I say through a slightly dramatized pant.

"That's not what I'm talking about. You've been avoiding me, what have I done?" He narrows his eyes on me and I huff, looking away, afraid he might be able to see right through me if I held eye contact.

"I haven't been avoiding you Cass, just, giving you space." I shrug, keeping my voice from wavering.

"One and the same, what did I do?" His blunt words struck me like a slap, a frown pulling at my lips.

"You didn't do anything." I shake my head, finally meeting his hazel eyes.

"Then why give me space?" It hurt more than I expected it to, to look into those eyes after so long, torture to be away from him for only just a week. I doubt I could even stomach being around him once he got back with Alora.

"Alora returned, Cass, I figured you'd want to pick up where you left off," I explain, remaining strong on my point.

"And what if I don't want that?" He stands, now looking down on me. I mirror his position, rising onto my feet yet he still remained looking down at his nose and I cursed his tall height.

"It's what you should want," I argue with narrowed brows.

"No, what I should want is what makes me happy." His voice brooked no room for argument as he took a step forward, and for a moment he looked like he was going to reach out towards me, then thought better of it. "And that's you." He confesses.

My heart stutters at his words, fingers twitching with the need to touch him. "Cass." I sigh, shaking my head.

"Don't 'Cass' me, sweetheart." He tilted his head down at me.

"She's better for you," I murmur, shrugging and fighting my need to wring my hands.

"You think I can't decide what's best for me?" He steps closer, a dangerous distance now between us.

"No,” I blurt, my brows bunching.” I'm just trying to make all of this easier." I huff, my bottom lip now protruding. I didn’t want to argue, I didn’t want to even be bothered to discuss it, I thought this was what he would want?

"Easier for who?"

His question was met with silence as I debated the question. I thought it’d be easier for him, I hadn’t realized he would notice my distance. I was only trying to save him from having that awkward conversation with me.

"I don't want her, I want you." He reaches out, his hands cupping my cheeks. I blink in surprise, a blush staining my cheeks. He wanted me?

"But, I thought—" I begin to say but he cuts me off.

"You thought wrong princess," He smiled arrogantly, but the line between his brows told me he was still distressed. "I didn't want to tell you, I thought you might realize on your own.” He said, then let out a soft chuckle as he added, "Figured the nicknames and cuddling was enough to give you a hint."

I avert my gaze, the burning on my cheeks starting to grow overwhelming. "Sorry," I utter, wrapping my arms around myself.

His hands slip from my cheeks to the nape of my neck, his thumbs tilting my jaw up, making me look at him. "Don't apologize just, please, no more distancing yourself from me,” He reasons and I frown.

"I was only trying to protect you, protect myself," I explain my stance on our argument still not satiated.

"I don't need protection, I need you." His hands tightened around the back of my neck but it didn’t hurt, it was a reassuring squeeze, a reminder. "I'm not going anywhere, alright?"

"Okay." I nod slowly, a soft smile spreading across my lips, one I haven’t given him in the past week.

He leaned closer and my breath hitched, eyes flicking down to his lips. “I’m going to kiss you now, is that okay?” He asks and I nod fervently. A wicked smile spreads over his lips at my reaction but doesn’t leave me waiting for long before his lips crash down onto mine.

The kiss was soft, yet passionate. He conveyed every neglected emotion in that kiss, how much he desperately needed me in the seven days I didn’t look or touch him, how depraved he was. His lips were skilled, and his tongue even more so as it slipped into my mouth. I sighed softly, allowing him to explore every crook and crevice, studying and memorizing it as if for later reminiscence.

“I missed you,” He whispers into my mouth and I giggle, wrapping my arms around his shoulders, my chest pressed into his.

"You're so clingy." I rolled my eyes, feigning annoyance. He smiled wildly at that, because despite the kiss, this was normal, the hugging and teasing, he hadn’t realized how much he cherished it until it disappeared.

"Gods, I missed you so much." He repeats, a cadence in his voice that sounded so genuine, making my frown return, my hand rubbing circles on the back of his shoulder slowing.

"I thought you'd go back to her, I was only trying to help," I say softly, his eyes soften as he quickly shakes his head and says,

"I was never hers, just didn't know it until you." He leans closer and pecks my lips softly. "I'm yours, I always have been." He reassured and my smile returned, I pushed up onto my toes, connecting our lips over and over again, kissing him until we were both sick of the taste of each other.

“And I’m yours,” I confess. “I’ve always known that, though,” I say bashfully and his grin widens, feral, genuine. My hand slithered to his jaw, my thumb now tracing over the outline of his sensuous lips. “I missed you too,” I confess, even if I was the one pulling away.

“I know, sweetheart, your sorrow-filled stares were proof.” He teased and I shuddered, looking away with a bright red blush. He chuckled and brought my face back to his with a nudge of his nose. “It was cute,” He reassured me, and even if I didn’t believe him, I allowed his lips to press against mine, again, and again, and again.

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rispwr · 2 months ago

Text

If i were you i'd do me - JK - MDNI - 2

pairings : fuckboy! jk x fem! reader, established relationship, mentions of smart! namjoon x oc, slow burn, enemies to lovers

contents/warnings : rich! oc, nepo! oc, fuckboy! jk, rich! jk, slight love triangle, smut, spoiled! oc, jk, big c! jk, fingering, semi-public xxx

taglist : comment if yall wanna be added

context : Jungkook, the notorious campus heartbreaker and player, unexpectedly becomes your groupmate alongside Namjoon, the guy you’ve secretly admired for ages. However, it seems your feelings have started shifting from Namjoon to someone else entirely unexpected…

two or three part series

It had been a week and a half since the group project began, and we only had two days left before we were supposed to present. I couldn't believe how fast the deadline was approaching. Surprisingly, Jungkook and I had managed to get along a little better in the past few days, although our relationship was still complicated. There was definitely more tension between us—lots of bickering over small details in the project, but there was also something else. A weird undercurrent of sexual tension seemed to creep into our interactions, though I tried to ignore it as much as possible.

We were in class, and the professor was droning on about something I wasn't paying much attention to. My mind wandered, thinking about how we were going to pull everything together in just two days. Suddenly, I felt my phone vibrate in my lap. Curious, I glanced down at my screen under the table to see who had texted me. It was Jungkook.

Jungkook: Hey, princess. Got any plans after class?

I rolled my eyes, my lips curling into a small smirk. Of course, he couldn't just ask normally. I typed a quick response.

Y/N: Not unless you're counting trying to save our sorry excuse for a project.

Almost immediately, my phone buzzed again.

Jungkook: Touché. How about we finish it at my place? You, me... Namjoon. Group work, you know?

Y/N: Why at your place?

Jungkook: Because my place is more fun. And I can make you a proper coffee. You know you want to.

Y/N: Fine. But this better be about the project and nothing else.

Jungkook: Can't promise that ;) See you after class.

I shook my head at his winking emoji but couldn't deny the tiny thrill that ran through me. Whether it was the impending deadline or something else, the air between Jungkook and me had been charged with an underlying tension lately. I wasn't sure how to feel about it, but it was becoming harder to brush off.

Once we settled in Jungkook's place, the tension between us was unbearable. It had been building for days, and now, in the quiet of his living room, it felt like we were teetering on the edge of something we couldn't take back.

Jungkook sat next to me on the couch, his casual demeanor masking the intensity in the air. I opened my laptop, pretending to focus on the project, but my mind was far from it. I could feel his eyes on me, and when his hand casually drifted to rest on my thigh again, I froze.

"Have you eaten yet?" he asked, his voice low and smooth, like he wasn't fully paying attention to his own words but to the way my body tensed at his touch.

I forced myself to look at him, raising an eyebrow. "wow. you suddenly care about my wellbeing now?"

He smirked, that familiar cocky grin that always seemed to piss me off. "What? Can't a guy ask a simple question?"

I rolled my eyes and turned my gaze back to the screen. "Yeah, I ate. Did you?"

"Mmhmm," he murmured, not removing his hand, his fingers starting to gently trace little patterns on my thigh. "Just making sure you're not starving before we start working."

I bit my lip, trying to focus, but every nerve in my body was screaming at me to pay attention to his touch. His fingers were moving now, grazing my skin in slow, deliberate strokes, each one lighting a fire in my core.

I couldn't take it anymore.

The tension,

his hand,

his stupid smirk

—it was all too much. I turned to face him, my chest rising and falling with barely concealed frustration. Before I could think about what I was doing,

I grabbed his face and crashed my lips onto his.

The kiss was messy,

desperate, fueled by all the frustration and tension that had been boiling over between us for weeks. He responded immediately, his hand tightening on my thigh, pulling me closer as he kissed me back just as fiercely. His other hand tangled in my hair, and for a moment, it felt like nothing else mattered except the way his lips moved against mine.

In between the kiss, he pulled back just a fraction, enough to murmur, "Thought you hated me."

I barely registered his words, my breath coming in short, heavy pants. "I do," I whispered, my voice a mix of defiance and something else. "I think."

Jungkook chuckled softly, the sound vibrating against my lips as he leaned back in, his hand now traveling up my side, slipping under my shirt. His touch was slow, teasing, as if he was testing just how far he could push before I stopped him. But I didn't stop him. I couldn't. The warmth of his palm against my skin sent shivers through my entire body, and I leaned into him, craving more.

His lips were on mine again, but this time, the kiss was deeper, slower, like we were savoring every second of this moment. His hand moved higher, grazing the edge of my bra, and I let out a quiet whimper, the sound muffled against his mouth.

"Still think you hate me?" he teased between kisses, his lips brushing against the corner of my mouth, trailing down to my jaw.

I tried to answer, but my thoughts were a jumbled mess, lost in the haze of his touch and the overwhelming heat building inside me. Instead, all I could manage was a shaky, "Shut up."

Jungkook grinned against my skin, his breath hot against my neck as his hand slipped further under my shirt, his fingers ghosting over my breast. "You know," he murmured, his voice low and full of that damn cockiness, "I'm not even doing anything, and you're already..... horny?."

I swallowed hard, trying to regain some control, but the way his hand felt on me, the way his lips moved against my skin, it was impossible to think straight. I opened my mouth to say something, to tell him to stop...or maybe to tell him not to stop, but before I could,

I heard the sound of the door opening.

Panic shot through me, and I jerked away from him, pulling my shirt back down and scrambling to sit up straight. Namjoon had just walked in, completely oblivious to the tension that had just filled the room.

Jungkook, on the other hand, didn't even flinch. He stayed where he was, leaning back casually with a smug grin on his face, like he was savoring the fact that he had completely undone me in a matter of minutes. He rubbed his lips with his thumb, his eyes glinting with amusement as he watched me try to pull myself together.

Namjoon, blissfully unaware of what he'd just interrupted, smiled and waved as he set his bag down. "Hey, sorry I'm late."

"Uh, it's fine," I mumbled, still feeling the heat in my cheeks as I avoided Jungkook's gaze. My heart was pounding in my chest, and I couldn't stop thinking about what had just happened—or what almost happened.

Jungkook finally sat up, stretching lazily as he glanced at Namjoon. "We were just getting started," he said, his tone casual, though the smirk on his face told me he was still very much enjoying the moment.

Namjoon nodded, pulling out his laptop. "Cool, let's get to work then."

I shot a glare at Jungkook, who only grinned wider, clearly reveling in the fact that I was still flustered. And as much as I wanted to punch him, I couldn't deny the way my body still buzzed from his touch.

This was going to be a long night.

As the three of us sat around Jungkook's living room table, trying to focus on the project, I couldn't help but feel the lingering tension between us. My mind kept drifting back to the kiss, the way his hands felt on me, and it didn't help that Jungkook kept sending me these playful glances when Namjoon wasn't looking.

We were supposed to be reviewing some notes Namjoon had brought, but my attention was elsewhere. Namjoon was talking animatedly about his ideas, while I pretended to follow along, nodding occasionally. Meanwhile, Jungkook, who sat way too close for comfort on my other side, started to shift, his knee brushing against mine under the table.

I froze for a second, my heart racing, but I didn't move. I didn't pull away. Instead, I shot him a quick look out of the corner of my eye. He glanced back, smirking, and then, without warning, his hand slipped under the table and onto my thigh again.

This time, though, it wasn't innocent.

His fingers began to creep higher, just brushing the hem of my skirt. I tensed up, glancing at Namjoon, who was completely focused on the work in front of him. Jungkook's hand continued its slow, deliberate journey under my skirt, and I couldn't help the way my breath hitched.

I should've stopped him. I should've pushed his hand away, but I didn't. My body reacted on its own, allowing him to continue as my heart pounded in my chest. I swallowed hard, trying to maintain some semblance of normalcy as Namjoon droned on about the project.

Jungkook's fingers slowly rubbed my clothed clit, and I bit my lip, trying to suppress a gasp. I shifted slightly in my seat, hoping Namjoon wouldn't notice. Jungkook, of course, noticed everything. He leaned in just a little closer, whispering softly, "You okay?"

I shot him a glare, though it lacked any real conviction. He chuckled under his breath, clearly enjoying the fact that I was letting him get away with this. His hand traveled higher, pushing my panties to the side enough for him to enter.

i then let out a slight whimper catching their attention. jungkook smirking as he inserts another finger into me "are you okay y/n?" namjoon asks concerned about me "a-ahh no no..haha i-i stubbed my toe" i tried to reply as i was unable to talk normally. the pleasure was too good.

now i know why girls love to throw themselves at jungkook

i held onto jungkooks shirt tightening my grip as i felt my orgasm being near. jungkook sensed it as my walls then starts to tighten around his fingers, he then fastened his pace, making my heart race faster. he then looks at me as i struggle, biting my lips trying not to make any sounds but my legs were shaking.

i finally came. my white liquid coating his fingers as he pulls out making a 'plop' sound.

i breathed heavily trying to pull myself together as i lick my lips, turning to jungkook watching him as he licks his fingers, cleaning my cum that was on his fingers.

once we were done with our study session Namjoon stood up to leave, an awkward silence settled in the room for a brief second. He gathered his things, explaining something about a school board meeting that he couldn't miss. I nodded along, thankful for the distraction from the tension that had been building between Jungkook and me for the past hour. Jungkook, on the other hand, remained calm, though I could sense the playful energy still simmering beneath the surface.

Namjoon finally said his goodbyes and left, closing the door behind him. The silence between Jungkook and me felt thick, heavy with the weight of everything we weren't saying. I didn't dare look at him at first, knowing that the second I did, we wouldn't be able to hold back any longer.

i then got up from the couch as i got on his lap, ruffling and playing with his hair. i tilt my head keeping eye contact with him giving him a smile as his hands starts travelling it's way to undo my bra until my phone suddenly rang distrupting our moment.

i got up to get my phone and it's hoseok.

i answered the call but jungkook took it

"hey y/n where are you?" hoseok asks concerned as it has already been past 6 pm.

"she's with her boyfriend" jungkook answers making me shook my head in panic as i try to get my phone from him "what the fuck jungkook!" i got up on him trying to get the phone as i heard hoseok mutter "what the fuck is happening" on the phone. "kiss first" jungkook points at his lips hinting me to kiss him.

and without hesitation i kissed him. i pull away looking at him in the eye as i spoke softly "can i get my phone now?" "say please" he replies making me annoyed. "can i please get my phone now?" i answered him as he slowly gave me the phone giving a cocky grin.

i yanked the phone from him a little bit harsh but i was already annoyed.

"hey hoseok? i'm sorry that was jungkook" i said awkwardly

"i was right then?" he asks

"huh?"

"you like him do youuu??" he teases

"hell nah what the fuck" i shook my head

jungkook then interrupts and yell on the phone "says the girl who kissed me and wanted to make out with me!" i hit jungkooks shoulder playfully as hoseok on the phone "omygod!! jimin and jin has to know about this bye!!"

"wait hoseok no-" before i could speak hoseok ends the call.

"what the fuck?" i said to him annoyed

"sorryyy princess" he gives me a peck on the cheek and points at his hard bulge

"i made you cum and i didn't get to cum" he pouts

"my precious pussy doesn't deserve a cock that goes in other pussies that we don't even know it clean. maybe stop fucking other girls and i'll let you, hm?" i cup his face as i answered softly

i then sat down on the couch to relax, closing my eyes, i couldn't stop thinking about what had happened today with jungkook.

After everything that happened, Jungkook broke the silence with a smirk, his usual confidence returning. "Let me take you home," he offered, tilting his head towards the door. "You know, on my bike."

"Sure," I said, keeping my voice steady, though internally I was anything but calm.

As we walked out of his house and towards his bike, I could feel the unspoken tension between us, a silent reminder of the unresolved tension lingering in the air. Jungkook handed me a helmet, his fingers brushing lightly against mine. I couldn't help but notice how his eyes lingered on me for a second longer than necessary before he turned his attention back to the bike.

"You sure you trust me on this thing?" he teased, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as he adjusted his helmet.

I rolled my eyes, but a small smile crept onto my face despite myself. "Just don't kill me, Jeon," I said, slipping the helmet on.

Jungkook chuckled before straddling the bike. "Wouldn't dream of it," he replied, patting the seat behind him. "Hop on."

I hesitated for a second before sliding onto the seat behind him, wrapping my arms around his waist. The moment my body pressed against his back, I could feel the firm muscles under his shirt, the warmth radiating from him. I mentally cursed myself for feeling flustered by something as simple as a bike ride, but there was no denying the electricity that sparked between us. The memory of his hands on me, his lips, kept flashing in my mind. God, what had happened to me?

As soon as the engine revved to life, the city streets blurred past us, and I tightened my grip on Jungkook. The wind whipped around us, the cool night air contrasting with the warmth of his body. My chest was pressed firmly against him, my heart pounding in my ears, and I couldn't help but bury my face into his back. Being this close to him, especially after everything that had just happened, made it hard to think straight.

The ride home was both exhilarating and maddening. Every second, I was hyper-aware of how close we were, the subtle movements of his body as he steered the bike, the way my arms tightened around him with every turn. I had never ridden on a motorcycle before, and the adrenaline only added to the charged atmosphere. As much as I hated to admit it, part of me didn't want the ride to end.

But all too soon, we pulled up in front of my house. Jungkook parked the bike, cutting the engine, and I reluctantly let go of him, sliding off the seat. My legs were a little unsteady, whether from the ride or the emotions swirling inside me, I wasn't sure. I pulled off the helmet, my fingers brushing through my hair as I handed it back to him.

As soon as Jungkook and I stepped through the front door, my mom, ever the gracious host, immediately beamed at Jungkook, practically pulling him inside with an invitation to stay for tea. I was trying to mentally prepare myself for the inevitable barrage of questions from her, but before I could even process that, I heard the familiar voice of my best friend, Hoseok, from the living room.

"Y/N! Guess what? I found—oh..." Hoseok's words trailed off when he saw Jungkook behind me, his eyes widening in surprise. His playful grin faltered for a second, replaced by curiosity as he glanced between the two of us. "Wait, what's going on here? You're bringing home the infamous Jeon Jungkook?"

I shot Hoseok a warning look, but he only raised his eyebrows, clearly amused. Of course, he would be staying over tonight. Hoseok was practically family at this point—my mom loved him, and he often stayed over when he was in town. I should have known he'd be here, lounging on the couch like he owned the place.

Before I could answer, my mom jumped in, leading Jungkook toward the living room, where she immediately started gushing over him. "Oh, it's so nice to meet one of Y/N's friends from school! She never brings anyone home. Please, make yourself comfortable."

Jungkook chuckled softly, giving my mom his signature charming smile. "Thank you, ma'am. It's nice to meet you too."

I could see my mom's eyes light up at his politeness, and I mentally groaned, knowing she was going to absolutely love him by the end of the night. Great, just what I needed—my mom falling for Jungkook's charm.

While my mom was busy fawning over him, I made my way over to Hoseok, who was sitting on the couch with an overly dramatic grin plastered on his face. The moment I sat down next to him, he leaned in, lowering his voice.

"So... you and Jungkook, huh?" Hoseok's tone was dripping with playful curiosity. "Did I just sense some serious tension there, or am I imagining things?"

I rolled my eyes, trying to act casual, though I could feel my cheeks warming up. "It's nothing. We're just working on a group project together."

Hoseok snorted, clearly unconvinced. "Yeah, sure. A group project. Is that what we're calling it now? What happened, huh? Did you two—" He paused, his eyes widening. "Wait, don't tell me you guys really kissed."

I froze, my heart skipping a beat as I glanced at Hoseok. I didn't need to say anything; the look on my face was enough to confirm his suspicions.

Hoseok gasped dramatically, his voice dropping even lower. "You did kiss! Oh my god, Y/N! I knew there was something going on between you two."

I nudged him with my elbow, whispering harshly, "Will you keep it down? My mom's right there."

Hoseok grinned, completely unbothered by my attempt to hush him. "How was it? Was it good? Was it like... you know, fireworks?"

I shot him a look. "Hoseok, seriously, now is not the time."

But Hoseok, being the relentless best friend he was, wasn't about to drop it. He leaned closer, his eyes gleaming with excitement. "Come on, spill the tea. I've got to know. You can't just drop a bomb like that and expect me to stay quiet."

I sighed, knowing he wasn't going to let this go. "Fine," I muttered under my breath. "We kissed. "

Hoseok's grin widened. "And? How was it? You can't just say it happened and leave me hanging."

I glanced over at Jungkook, who was still talking with my mom, oblivious to the conversation Hoseok and I were having. "It was...something. he uhh you know?" i glanced down at my bottom area hinting him what had happened

Hoseok raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. "OMYGOD! So, like... good or bad?"

I gave him a pointed look. "What do you think?"

Hoseok let out a low whistle, shaking his head in disbelief. "Wow. You and Jeon Jungkook. Who would've thought? The bad boy and the good girl. This is like some kind of drama."

I groaned, burying my face in my hands. "Please, don't make this a thing."

"Oh, it's already a thing, Y/N," Hoseok teased, nudging me with his shoulder. "You're in deep now."

I glared at him, though I couldn't help but smile a little. "You're impossible."

Hoseok just laughed, but before he could say anything else, Jungkook walked over, finally free from my mom's grasp. He glanced at me and Hoseok, a curious look in his eyes, but didn't say anything. Instead, he leaned against the wall, arms crossed, his gaze briefly meeting mine before flicking away.

"You guys talking about something interesting?" Jungkook asked, his voice casual, but there was a hint of playfulness there.

Hoseok, of course, jumped on the opportunity. "Oh, nothing much. Just talking about how Y/N never brings anyone home. Guess you must be special, Jungkook."

I shot Hoseok a look, silently telling him to shut up, but he just grinned back at me, enjoying every second of this.

Jungkook smirked, his eyes locking with mine for a moment. "Yeah, I guess I am," he said, his tone teasing.

I rolled my eyes, feeling the heat rise to my face again. "Hobi, don't you have something else to do?"

Hoseok shrugged, standing up from the couch with a stretch. "Nah, I think I've caused enough trouble for one night. I'll leave you two to... whatever it is you're doing."

I watched as he sauntered off, but not before giving me a wink. I let out a breath, mentally preparing myself for the inevitable interrogation that would come from him later. But for now, I turned my attention back to Jungkook, who was still watching me with that same playful glint in his eyes.

"So," Jungkook said, his voice low enough that only I could hear. "You really couldn't stop talking about me, huh?"

I narrowed my eyes at him, crossing my arms defensively. "Don't get cocky, Jeon."

But he just grinned, clearly enjoying the effect he had on me. "Too late."

#rispwr #jungkook ff #bts #jungkook #bts x reader #jungkook smut #jungkook fluff

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kittyhui · 5 months ago

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exes to lovers! seungcheol x reader

!!MDNI!!

[seungcheol ended your five year long relationship seemingly out of nowhere, leaving you heartbroken. two years after your breakup, you release your solo album, song written about the heartbreak you felt. now, seungcheol is trying to get your love back]

cw: idol x idol, angst w/ comfort, semi public sex, not grammar checked well😭

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

“I think we should break up” is all Seungcheol says to you, sad in his eyes.

He walks out of your apartment, not staying to listen to your cries and pleads, asking for an explanation on why he was so suddenly doing this. He was a completely different person from the last time you saw him; his love-filled eyes replaced with cold and sad ones.

You tried to contact him multiple times after that; calls and messages never answered, leaving you and your heart shattered, your members having to pick up the pieces. A five year old relationship gone in a flash, without a reason, without even a thought of why. Did i do something wrong? Did he grow tired? Was there.. someone else? The situation hurt you so badly, that even fans could tell something was wrong. Your relationship was a secret from fans and from your company, save from the members. Your performance during promotions were off and it took you almost a full year to get back on your game, taking a hiatus at one time because it was just so bad. but you were feeling better now. It’s now past your two year breakup anniversary, and though you think about the good times of your old relationship, you weren’t consumed with grief anymore. You felt much better, better than ever. Better enough to release your first solo album, songs written from that time.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••��••••••••••

[interviewer] So, What was the thought process behind this album?

[Y/N] All these songs are a part of a giant collection of songs while i was going through a lot of feelings haha. Most of these were my inner thoughts and feelings that I couldn't express to anyone else so I wrote them out. they’ve only now came out because I was finally confident in myself and these songs after years and my members helped build my courage to share them with you all.

[Interviewer] I’m happy that you were finally able to overcome your fears with your songs.

[Y/N] Thank you so much

[Interviewer] Do you think you could go more in depth about the song meanings?

[Y/n] Yea, of course. The first song on the album can be interpreted in multiple ways in my opinion. When I wrote this, I was thinking about someone I loved truly. I wrote this wishing that the way they ended it could’ve been that we just fell out of love. I wanted us to be tired of each other, to just want it to be over and so I wrote this point of view wishing this was the reality, even though I knew how much I still loved them. It’s very sad and kinda pathetic but yea haha.

For the second track, I wrote this because in this same relationship, the way we broke up was so rushed and I was not ready for it. I felt like they didn’t even feel anything towards me anymore and it broke me down so much. By the end of the song, I kinda accept it as the end and try to let them go.

Ah~ This third track was actually wrote when i was first in that relationship. We were both falling hard and fast and I had to let it out in a way. I can’t really explain more.

[Interviewer] And lastly, the fully english track?

[Y/N] This one really talks about how even if I’ll be in another relationship in the future, I’ll only think about and try to find them in the other person. I wrote this the latest out of all of them. I knew I was still in love with this person even though it’s been years since the breakup but I know I’ll always see them as my first and only love even if they don’t see me the same way.

[Interviewer] These are all truly beautiful songs

[Y/N] Thank you

[Interviewer] We just have a few more questions before we say goodbye today. Firstly, You said these songs were in a collection of other songs, will you release the rest of them as well?

[Y/N] Maybe, I’m surprised I got away making this album so hopefully I can push my companies limits a tad more.

[Interviewer] Next question, This relationship you sing about seemed really intense. Was it a long one?

[Y/N] Yea, It dont think I can go into too many details but it was a pretty serious relationship. When it ended, I took it very hard. I liked them for a long time before too so it was rough haha

[Interviewer] Last question, Because you produce and write songs for your group, Have you ever wrote about this relationship in those songs?

[Y/N] Honestly I couldn’t tell you. I try not to because I’m still not the best about this relationship I was in but it’s probably slipped in a few songs unfortunately haha

[Interviewer] Thank you so much for coming onto my show today!

[Y/N] I’m honored to be asked here for an interview, thank you. I’d also like to say thank you to my fans and anyone else who is listening in! Please enjoy my new album!

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Needless to say, your interview was seen by alot of people. Neitzens have been picking it apart since it came out, speculating on the mystery person you were talking about. Your fans were both happy for you and angry for you; ready to fight the person who broke your heart. Though the publicity was great for your album sales and streams, the constant news was really tiring now, especially now that you were promoting at music shows. Music shows that your ex, S.Coups of Seventeen, was also promoting at with his group. Singing a song about your heartbreak in the same place of the person who hurt you so bad, was awkward to say the least. The waiting room of the music show was the worst. passing by him and his group makes your heart pound. His eyes follow you when you pass by each other. you try not to meet his eyes. Your heart just couldn’t handle it. Your still wanted him yet you hated him at the same time. You wanted to kiss him again but also wanted to hit him. The last conversation you both had together was him breaking up with you. He hurt you so badly yet you yearned for him.

So when he approached you before your performance, you felt conflicted.

“Y/n?” The familiar voice fills your ears and you look up at the man standing infront of your sitting figure.

“Seungcheol? What are you doing” You didn’t actually think he would speak to you again, but here he was.

“Can we- can we talk?” He pauses, licking his lips nervously “I know you probably never want to speak to me ever again but I just want a second of your time.”

“You really have horrible timing. I going on stage in a few minutes. Please don’t do this now. You had two years to talk about this,” You look away from his, glancing to the side “We can talk.. after the music show is over. Don’t expect too much, though” You stand and walk to the stairs of the stage and he sighs, agreeing to meet later on.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

The music show ends entirely too quickly for your liking, leg bouncing nervously in your dressing room and when you hear a knock at the door you know it’s Seungcheol. You open the door, the man in front of you quickly walking in and closing the door again.

“Y/n..” He sighs

“Seungcheol,” You try to sound disinterested but inside you just want to hug him. “Please just say what you have to say”

“I just want to say I’m so sorry for the way I ended things. I know I hurt you beyond belief and it hurts that I hurt you. I watched your interview and.. god.. I care about you so much.. I never wanted to break up with you but I had to..” His eyes brim with tears and he lets out a haggard breath.

“Then why did you? Five years, Seungcheol. I loved you for five years, hell, I still love you after what you did, but, just why? I felt like I wasted all those years for nothing. I want to marry you… I wanted to have everything with you.. You were my first everything and you hurt me like I was nothing..” You were choking on your tears at this point, the salty liquid pooling in you lips “You were more than just a boyfriend to me, Seungcheol. You were the love of my life.”

“Y/n.. I.. I didn’t break up because I wanted to.. your company found out.. they threatened your career if I didn’t break up with you.. I tried to convince them to let us be, but they were persistent and my company was pressuring me as well.. I shouldve fought for you more.. I’m so sorry. I wanted to tell you what was happening but… I was a coward. I never stopped loving you, y/n.. You’re the love of my life too. I had every intention of being with you until the day I died, and I want to fight for you now even though I didn’t before.”

The shock of what he said lingers in your mind. You look at him without saying anything. He sat down next to you, letting you process his words. After some time you finally spoke.

“I dont know what to say,” You start “I believe you even though that means my company did this too me but.. I dont know. I want to forgive you. I want you, Cheol. I want you to be in my life again. but it took me so long to recover from this. I dont know if we’ll ever be what we were before,” He looks down at his feet in defeat “But we can try..” He looks up at you again, eyes brightening.

He finally smiles, “You dont understand how badly I missed you…” He hugs you tightly before looking into your eyes and then looking down at your lips “can I..” You nod slowly, waiting for his lips to touch yours.

He kisses your lips with hunger, holding on to you for fear you might run away “Missed you.. Misses your touch.. ‘m so sorry, my love” He pushes you flat on the couch you were sitting on, kissing you face and neck with desire. He missed this so much. “I love you, baby. Please let me make you feel good.. Love you..” You whine at his words, hips grinding up at his.

“l-love you too, Cheolie.. Please.. Need you so bad” Your hands move up and down his clothed back. “Please..missed you too” He kisses you quickly, breaking away to remove the both of your clothes.

“Just a gorgeous as I remember,” He mutters under his breath. You can feel his hard member on your stomach, moaning at the anticipation of having him after so long. “Need to be inside you so bad, baby”

“mhm please, cheolie..“ You pull him closer, begging him to do anything.

“shhh, ill take care of you, baby.” he coos at you, finally pushing in, “shit- so tight.. you feel so good baby” he brushes the hairs out of your face, kissing your forehead gently. “So good for me, my love”

“Please move- Please I need it. Cheolie- Needed this so bad” You sob as he finally starts to roll his hips into yours, groans falling from his mouth.

“God- y-you’re too good, baby. Am I making you feel good, hm?” He fucks into you faster, rougher, breathlessly calling out your name into your ear.

“yes yes makin’ me feel so good- gonna cum soon” You hips rut into his, determined to make both of you cum.

“b-baby” He pushes your hips back into the couch, “Be good- i’ll let you cum, promise…” He breathes out hot breath, eyes blown wide as he pounds into you; your heat sucking him in dangerously. “Cum for me please, need you to cum, baby.”

Your desperation for each other was unmatched and you were sure that the people walking past your dressing room can hear the obscene noises coming from it, but you could care less. The pleads for more came out if your mouth like a ritual and Seungcheol knew you were close. One of his hands grip your own, telling you to cum, and what else can you do when his cock twitches inside of you so deliciously. You cry out his name once more before cumming hard. Feeling you pulse around him, he fills you up with spurts of his hot cum in you. “Fuck, did you so good, my love. I love you so much” He breathes out, pecking your lips once again.

You look into his eyes, dazed, and welling with tears again. His happy demeanor changes ones again. “Hey. Hey, Y/n. What’s wrong? Did i do something?” He looks you up and down, checking for injuries. Making sure he didn’t fuck this up again.

“No- i just- i just missed you so much, Cheolie,” you cry out. “Love you so much..” His arms are around you before you can even say another word. He murmurs I love you’s into your ears, kissing the tears rolling down your face.

“I love you too, baby. let’s go home hm?”

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

a/n: these are the songs i used as reference for the solo album songs:

1. Can’t Love You Anymore - IU

2. Goodbye - OOHYO

3. Fallin’ - Yoon Hyun Sang

4. Glimpse of Us - Joji

this was so spur of the moment #loveit

#seventeen #seungcheol x reader #seungcheol smut #scoups x reader #seventeen x reader #svt x reader

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zriasstuff · 9 months ago

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Them asking you to be their Valentine

The Slytherin Boys x reader (just in time for Valentine’s Day :))

Valentine’s Day at Hogwarts always comes with a lavish ball, so go ahead and choose the white knight of your liking to accompany you :)

Mattheo Riddle:

Mattheo’s way of asking you to be his Valentine for the ball was very straightforward, yet effective. The second after the announcement dropped, he went to find you in the schoolyard, and approached you in front of all your friends.

“Hey, wait up!”, he’d shout to get your attention, already sounding determined.

“What do you say, you and me at the ball?”, he spoke out his confession, short and sweet.

Cheekily, he adds “I think you and I would be the best looking couple at the ball”. You notice him shyly tucking his head down as he said that, but he still sounded self assured.

Everyone was patiently waiting for your reaction, and you noticed how all your friends started gushing over him. Mattheo seemed unfazed by everyone else and only had eyes for you.

Even though you had only talked to him a few times in the past, you noticed that there was this easy-going chemistry between you two.

His profession certainly came as a surprise, but you liked guys who were direct. Besides, he struck you as a bit of a player too, who seemed to be used to asking girls out.

“Sure, I’d love to go with you”, you chuckle out, knowing you’d have a lot of fun with him.

He slickly throws you an air kiss, grinning from ear to ear, before all his friends start jumping on him to celebrate his win.

Tom Riddle (extremely delusional):

Tom definitely wasn’t one for the romantics, in fact he was strictly against the idea of a Valentine’s Day ball.

What he told you, when you asked him if he had a date already was:

“The ball is just an excuse for undisciplined students to commit shameful acts such as drinking alcohol and doing magical substances, when they should really be focusing on their education instead, which they are in desperate need of”

“I see, so you don’t have a date”, you sum it up for him.

Truthfully, you only asked Tom that question because you started catching feelings for him, and you wanted to know if you had a clear shot.

But clearly, he wasn’t interested at the moment.

He seemed to be carefully analyzing your reaction to his statement. Seconds later, he indifferently states “You want me to ask you out, don’t you”

You, shocked at first, embarrassingly nod afterwards. Full of curiosity, you wondered how he had managed to read you so accurately.

“Fine, to save myself from a week of listening to your heartbreak or potential soulmate, I am going to do you the favor of accompanying you to the ball. I am only doing this to save myself.”, he explains elaborately, which earns him an eye roll of yours.

You still wanted him to actually ask you and mean it, but for Tom Riddle, this was a big gesture already. Besides, you were aware from the beginning that you would have to deal with his peculiarities.

“On the day, be ready at 8pm sharp, and don’t you dare get drunk or high”, he lays down his conditions. Even if he wouldn’t say it, you knew that deep down he cared, otherwise he would’ve never even indulged in this.

Theodore Nott:

Theodore had found himself in a bit of a slump. Due to the excessive quidditch training, he didn’t have a date for the ball yet, which would be in 1 day exactly.

Subconsciously he fully believed that he'd find a date, no matter what time it was, which is why he took his sweet sweet time.

But now, with growing desperation, he ran around, asking out every girl he saw. And each time, the girl rejected him because they already had a date.

As he grew more and more frustrated, he asked you for the second time again, to be his date. You already told him that you had plans with a guy from Gryffindor, which he ridiculed.

“Come on, please ditch him for me?”, he’d repeatedly ask you with puppy eyes.

“Please just do me this favor, I don’t want to be the only guy in our friend group to not have a date.

You’d tell him that it was his own fault, but eventually you felt a bit bad for him. And you were indeed good friends, so maybe you could do him a favor. It wasn’t like the Gryffindor boy and you were in love. Surely he’d get over it…

“Fine, I’ll go, but you owe me”, you finally agreed. Truthfully, you found Theo much more attractive and charming anyway.

You had only agreed to the Gryffindor boy in the first place because you were afraid that no one besides him would ask you out anymore if you said no.

Theo, full of excitement and relief, cupped your face and kissed your forehead as a thanks when you agreed to be his date.

“I promise you, you won’t regret it”, were his last words before leaving you alone.

Blaise Zabini:

You only had one more tedious potions class of Snape's to go through, before you could finally enjoy the rest of your day.

As the clock ticked, you stared down on your blank parchment paper, counting the minutes to go.

Catching you off guard, you feel Blaise’s finger lightly tapping your arm. You needed a second to get conscious of the situation because you had zoned out.

He slides a small, blank piece of parchment paper towards you and points his head down, signaling you to turn it around.

When you do, your mood immediately lifts and you begin blushing. It was kind of childish, like something you’d do in year 1 or 2, but it was also cute.

The paper was filled with the classic “will you be my Valentine”, and there were three boxes to cross. The three being “yes”, “no”, and “maybe”.

Blaise observes your reaction delightfully, waiting for you to tick a box. As this was the highlight of your day, you decide to give the guy a chance and tick “yes”.

When class ended, Blaise waited for you to pack up and proposed a hang out at astronomy tower with you, which you agreed to with pleasure.

Enzo Berkshire:

It was a Sunday, exactly one week before the ball, and all the Hogwarts students were enjoying their time in Hogsmeade.

On this peculiar day, your seating partner Enzo from Transfiguration asked you to go to Madam Puddifoot's Café with him. The location was definitely romantic, and you already suspected where this might be going.

But—you didn’t want to get your hopes too high yet. Enzo was unquestionably a cute guy though.

During your coffee date, he didn’t drop any hints or said anything suggestive. You just talked, gossiped, and joked around, and you figured he’d be cool as a friend too.

Though nearing the end, the waiter came to your table with a small buttercream cake.

You shot a confused glance at Enzo, and he seemed clueless.

“I don’t believe we ordered that”, you tell the waiter, but he insists and puts the cake in front of you. After the waiter leaves, you keep eye contact with Enzo, but he tells you to eat the cake.

Still dazzled, you comply and look down, seeing that…

“Will you be my Valentine”, was written on the cake in cursive font with pink buttercream. Overcome by joy, you couldn’t be happier that your suspicions from the beginning were right.

“So what’s your answer”, he asks eagerly, eyes sparkling with excitement.

“Of course I will, this was so sweet”

You believed that no girl could’ve said no to this.

Draco Malfoy:

You and Draco never slacked off on your prefect duties, which also included the nightly walks around school, to ensure that every student has gone to bed.

It is the perfect time to talk after a long day, and to exercise your power of course, but mainly the walks had brought you two very close, and you exchanged plenty of secrets already.

Although he could be a bit of an asshole, which you also told him, you still saw that he had a caring, more hurt side to him.

A week before the ball, he suggested a different route than the one you usually took.

He told you to close your eyes as you were walking, and led you by your hand. Innerly, he was as nervous and jittery as one could get, and couldn’t wait to see the reaction on your face.

When you got to the mysterious destination, he told you to open your eyes

As soon as you opened them, you saw the room of requirements, decorated with pink and red flowers, hundreds of candles, and a banner reading “will you be my valentine”.

It had been Draco’s plan for weeks, and he was so glad that he pulled it off.

He also made sure that you wouldn’t get a date, before he asked you out, which included cursing guys who got close to you.

“Oh my, yes of course Draco, I can’t believe you did this”, you’d say full of joy.

“You just made me the happiest guy in this school”, he’d reply and you knew it was true.

Immediately he brings you closer to kiss you, and you spend the rest of the night cuddling inside the room of requirements (insert the scene of Dean and Rory cuddling in GG if yk what I mean).

#harry potter #slytherin boys x reader #slytherin boys #drabble #blaise zabini #mattheo riddle #tom riddle #draco malfoy #enzo berkshire #theodore nott #mattheo riddle x reader #tom riddle x reader #theodore nott x reader #draco x reader #enzo berkshire x reader #blaise zabini x reader #slytherin boys x you #valentines day #slytherin boys react

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theereina · 13 days ago

Text

Let Me Talk

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Plus Size Fem Black!OC

Wordcount: +2.4K

Warnings: MDNI (18+) mature content, such as cursing, no smut, heavily dialogue-centered, anxiety mentioned, childhood trauma mentioned, angst, heartbreak, fluff, a smidge of dirty talk

A/N¹: This is a single one-shot with no planned sequels unless requested.🤨

A/N²: I'm open to critiques. I am a little 🤏🏽 sensitive about my writing. Please, don't be too harsh.🥺 Feel free to bring my attention to any typos. Divider by @theereina. Also, this work is not to be plagiarized or reposted (on any site other than here on Tumblr). I do NOT give consent for any form of republishing or rewriting.

Masterlist: 🔥🔥🔥

It had been four months since I had seen Terry. There was little to no contact besides short phone conversations and quick texts. I would be lying if I said I didn't miss him. It was the little things that made it hard to forget him. The way he always smelled of sandalwood and musk. The way he held my hand when I was anxious. The way his smile lit up a room. The way every shirt he owned molded to his body like a glove. Ugh, I gotta stop.

I wanted nothing more than for him to return home to me, but pride got in the way. Not only for him but for me, too. We were equally as stubborn and stuck in our ways, unyielding to the love we shared. Being right somehow mattered more to each of us— more than a good morning kiss, a massage after a long day, the vows of our marriage.

Letting pride hinder our judgment, I told Terry to leave and not come back. Truthfully, I didn't want him to, I was just angry and tired of fighting. So, when he left without a fight, it reminded me too much of my abandonment trauma. Watching him walk out that door tore me apart. I was once again a five-year-old girl watching her father leave for the last time, never to return. The power Terry held over me in that moment was only a fraction of the hurt I felt. It was like the world around me shattered. With him, Terry took both light and love while I fell further into darkness more and more each day.

In other words, Terry and I couldn't comprehend that we could both be right even with two different perspectives. The basis of the problem as trifling as it seemed was an ugly nuanced one. Unfortunately, Terry was raised by his parents while I had to survive mine. This understanding is what caused the biggest fight we had ever had. No matter how much I explained it, Terry couldn't understand why I did things the way I did.

For context, I have had no contact with my family since I left home after college. I didn't talk to my sisters, brother, stepfather, and definitely not my mother. Terry's nurturing and supportive upbringing made him less receptive to the dysfunction that came with mine. He couldn't fathom not speaking to his family, let alone his mother, for years. So, when he brought up the idea of me reconnecting with them, it was a shock. The first time he asked I reminded him that I had my reasons— he only knew some. The second time I admired his persistence but still declined the offer. However, after the fifth or sixth time, I was fed up. I wanted him to understand how much these people collectively hurt and drained me. After days of explaining and retelling the story, he responded with annoyance— calling me childish and bitter.

Damn right, I was! I had taken care of every single one of them for years. I had put my health on the back burner to ensure they were good. I had stretched myself thin to the point of almost being hospitalized for a mental breakdown. No one other than my mom came, but we all know her true reason for coming— to save face. Considering she never believed or accepted my mental health issues, she just complained the whole time I was in the waiting room. This is the type of stuff I dealt with from them. This lack of care, kindness, appreciation, and love is why I left as soon as I was financially stable enough.

Even after talking about this for days, the only thing I was left with was a heavy heart and teary eyes. The more Terry pressed; the more distant I became. I didn't want it to get this far or this bad, but he wouldn't let it go. His mind was already made up. To him, family is family, and we should forgive them no matter what. Unfortunately, that wasn't and would never be my reality.

Present Day

“Caramel cookie butter iced coffee and a regular hot coffee for… Fallon!” yelled the barista from behind the counter. “That's me,” I said, facing the small woman. “Here you go. Enjoy,” she said, smiling and pushing the drinks toward me. I checked the sticker on the regular coffee to see if they remembered the two sugars. I picked up both drinks and searched for an empty table in the back of the coffee shop. I knew this conversation would result in both of us or at least me ugly crying.

I slid into a booth in the far back corner of the shop, facing the door. I knew that if it became too overwhelming for me, seeing the door would provide a certain level of relief— an exit or escape if needed. Immediately upon sitting, I began to remember some of the memories I and Terry shared here. This quickly became our favorite spot. Plus, it was right down the street from our shared home. Terry would come here almost every Monday and Friday morning to pick up my current favorite drink order. He called it a treat to start the week and a reward for finishing.

This is also the place where we had our first conversation about marriage. I can almost remember Terry's face when I told him I never thought about being married— until I met him. I didn't believe anyone could love me, especially a man of Terry's caliber. I felt like damaged goods that would never be good enough for him or anyone else. So, I never planned for that milestone. Terry's presence in my life felt like a reassuring message from God that I was loved and deserved it— properly.

Oh, God! Not me already crying, and he hasn't even made it. I quickly used one of the napkins to dab my eyes. Taking deep breaths and relaxing my shoulders, I tried my hardest not to get lost in my thoughts. I knew that once I let myself be sucked into that abysmal cycle I would be trapped there before even a word was spoken between us.

I leaned back into the booth, watching the door. Terry wasn't late; I was just extremely early. I needed to prepare myself as much as possible before seeing him.

10 minutes later

ding ding

“Good morning! Welcome to the Coffee Cabin,” yelled the woman from behind the counter. “Hey, good morning,” said a familiar voice. I knew exactly who this was yet my heart refused to settle down. I didn't know how my mind and body would react to seeing him face-to-face for the first time in months. My hands were sweating profusely. How the fuck was I going to make it through this?

“Pumpkin?” Terry said, sitting across from me. “Uh,… Hi,” I said struggling to breathe. “Hey, mama. Look at me. Fallon!” Terry said, leaning over the table and lifting my chin. I looked up to see Terry glaring back at me. Those striking green eyes expressed his concern. His eyes spoke before his mouth could. There was no need to voice his worry.

“Terry, please,” I said, holding his hand. “Don't do that. Just tell me what's wrong,” he said pulling my hand to his lips. “This! What the hell are we doing right now? It's like we aren't even married. I don't…” I rambled. “Pumpkin,” Terry said, trying to stop me. “We aren't living…” I continued. “Pumpkin,” Terry said, gripping my hand. “I don't know what to do with myself half the time. It's…,” I said. “Pumpkin, enough! Stop!” he cried out. I could sense his frustration with my rambling. I hadn't stopped talking since he sat down. “Terry, I'm just trying…,” I said trying to continue. “No. Stop it! This isn't how this was supposed to go. Let…me…talk,” he grunted.

I pulled my hand away and placed it back into my lap. I dropped my head in embarrassment. I hadn't even made it one minute before making a fool of myself. “Listen, I love you. I know you are feeling anxious right now. We both have a lot to say, and that's okay. But before we can continue, I need you to relax, love. Okay?” he said, caressing my cheek. I shook my head, looking back up at him. “I'm sorry. This is hard,” I said. “I know, mama. I know,” he said, wiping away a single fallen tear.

“C’mere,” he said, grabbing my hand and pulling me up from my seat. “Terry, I…!” I said, trying to pull away from him. “Nah, come to me, Pumpkin,” he said while wrapping his arms around me. It was as if life itself had started again. Terry's embrace broke me in the gentlest way possible. His body swallowed mine, providing me with the comfort I had been craving for months. I missed this man and everything about him.

“I'm sorry. I…,” I said, sniffling into Terry's chest. “Shhh, stop apologizing. I don't need you to apologize. I need you to let me— let me love you, let me take care of you, let me come home,” he said, tilting my chin up to meet his eyes. He leaned down and kissed me on the lips. I had never felt so much relief in my life. A single kiss had just washed away all the pain and guilt I had carried for these last four months.

“I don't know what to say. I had all these… these… speeches planned in my head. Just for me to remember nothing,” I said leaning further into Terry. “That's fine. Let me talk, you just listen. Turn your brain off for a minute and relax. Aight?” he said, releasing me from his hold. His hands held onto the sides of my face. He was awaiting an answer, but words were escaping me. Too many thoughts were fighting to claim power over my tongue.

“Turn it off, lil’ mama. Okay? Sit back down for me,” he said, gesturing towards my seat. His hand waved back towards the booth as I slid back in. Terry sat back down in front of me. He reached for my hands and pulled them towards him. It's insane how something as simple as Terry holding my hands made me feel lighter and calmer. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. “There you go. Thank you, Pumpkin,” he said while stroking the back of my hands.

“Listen to me, okay? I should have never pressed you so hard about what was going on. Your boundaries were clear. I can see that now and wish I could have seen that then. These last four months have been absolute hell in the most silent way possible. I let my perspective overshadow yours when this was your experience— your reality, not mine. I won't sit here and lie to you like I'll ever understand how you feel. I won't. However, as your husband, it was my job to console you…. and… and care for you. I failed you at that moment. I don't deserve your immediate forgiveness, and I will do whatever you ask to receive it. I… uh… I left you to deal with all those emotions alone when it was my fault that you had to relive it in the first place. I was forcing you to see things my way because I thought I knew what was best for you based on my… my experience. You didn't deserve that. You deserved so much more than I gave you at that moment, and for that, I'm sorry. Sorry for how I handled the situation entirely. From this day forward, I promise to be a better man to you— a better husband. You deserve the world, mama. I love you more than life itself. Please, forgive me. Please,” he pleaded.

By this point, I was sobbing. I didn't need to say a word. I jumped up from my seat and ran around to Terry's side. There was nothing I wanted more than him— all of him. I sat in his lap and held his face in my hands. “Of course, I forgive you. I love you, too. I don't know what to say. Fuck… just… just kiss me already, papa,” I said, looking into Terry's eyes. They were the softest they had been in a while.

Terry’s urge was just as strong as mine as he pulled me in to kiss him on the lips. But, I needed more; so I used my tongue to part his lips. Terry's mouth opened, and I could feel his energy shift. The desire in him ignited like a flame. The yearning was mutually shared. His hands roamed wildly as teeth met tongue. Neither one of us cared that we were in public. Sharing breath and body, we became one again. With passion burning in our bellies, Terry pulled away first. I looked at him to be met with a pained gaze filled with a desperate hunger for something else.

“Pumpkin, I think we should leave. Um… the thoughts that are… uhh, shit… Woman the things I want to do to you have no business being viewed by the public eye,” he said, catching his breath. His chest rose and fell rapidly with every word. “Yeah?” I asked, stroking his ear and swallowing hard. My breathing was equally just as harsh.

Terry's gaze lingered over my body. “Yeah, we need to leave. Now!” he said, guiding me with his hands on my hips. “Did you drive or walk?” he asked, making me face him. “Walked,” I answered softly. “Okay. I drove. Unfortunately for you, you gettin’ in a car with me, and I can't promise to keep my hands to myself. Honestly, we probably not makin’ it home,” he said while leaning down to whisper in my ear. “Oh, fuck… Don't say stuff like that,” I said, clenching my thighs together. “You wanted honesty, mama. Hell, we should put that extended cab to good use for once,” Terry said, his lip curling up into the most sinful smirk. “You're nasty,” I said, hitting him in the chest. “Yea, and? You love it!” he said, pulling me into another kiss.

Part 2 => 🗣

Taglist: @avoidthings @brattyfics @cocooned-butterfly @5headsupremacist @ariiijestertheklown

@creartivefairy @miyuhpapayuh @armandosbabymama @megamindsecretlair @nahimjustfeelingit-writes

@nayaxwrites @jimmybutlrr @lovey-3 @curvyambitions @gg-trini

@deja-r @hoouno06 @insidefeelingofanadult @slutsareteacherstoo @skyesthebomb

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@rebelrel0987 @4pfsukuna @writingsbytee @nayaesworld @babybratzmaraj

@pinkpantheris @honeytoffee @talkswithdesi @blyffe @helloncrocs

@amyhennessyhouse @beenathembo @thiccc-c @qtmkenedy03 @persethegawd

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bloodreinasbathwater · 5 days ago

Text

Xo Xo Gossip Girl

Pairing: Jack Hughes x Gossip Blogger! Reader

Part 1

a:n The way I find myself digging for the perfect chapter gif only to scroll for five minutes and save my favorites is so embarrassing. I'm gonna need his girlfriend to hand over that game card... anyway hope u like this chapter.

word count - 4k

Masterlist Link

GIF by wyattjohnston

...

HOCKEY HEARTBREAK: THE REAL REASON BEHIND THE HUGHES-DEGREGIO SPLIT

Posted by Y/N @ The Daily Whisper | 11:42 PM

Settle in, Whisper Warriors, because do I have some piping hot tea for you tonight.

You know those moments when the universe just hands you the story of the year? Well, last Saturday at Vibe, somewhere between my second cosmopolitan and watching Matt Rempe fail at dancing (yes, that's tea for another day), I quite literally bumped into none other than Serena DeGregio. And let me tell you, after a few shots of liquid courage, Hollywood's newest "it girl" was ready to spill everything about her recent split from hockey's favorite bad boy, Jack Hughes.

Now, we've all seen the headlines: "Hockey Heartthrob and Rising Star Call It Quits." But the real story? It's juicier than your mom's Thanksgiving turkey.

According to Serena, our beloved hockey star couldn't handle being the second name in the relationship. While she was booking Netflix specials and selling out concert venues, Jack was sidelined with a shoulder injury that kept him off the ice for three months. And apparently, watching your girlfriend's face on every billboard in Times Square does things to a man's ego.

"He's still stuck in that high school hockey star mentality," Serena told me, twirling the olive in her martini. "You know the type – peaked at eighteen, never had to grow up because everything came easy."

But here's where I have to play devil's advocate (and maybe it's because I've seen those ice-blue eyes up close at press events). Having covered Jack's career since his rookie year, there's more to him than Serena's bitter pill would have you swallow. This is the same guy who started a youth hockey program in underprivileged neighborhoods. The same player who spent his injury rehab volunteering at children's hospitals. And let's be real – anyone who's seen him handle a puck knows he definitely hasn't peaked.

Maybe it's the journalist in me, but something about this story feels... incomplete. There's always two sides to every breakup, isn't there?

Update coming soon... if I can track down Mr. Hughes for his side of the story 😉

...

Y/N stretched back in her purple velvet office chair, admiring her latest post on the screen. Her "lair," as she liked to call it, was her happy place – fairy lights twinkling across the ceiling, framed magazine covers featuring her biggest stories adorning the coral-painted walls, and her trusty mini-fridge humming softly in the corner, stocked with Diet Coke and chocolate-covered almonds.

The story was already gaining traction, comments pinging faster than she could read them. Her phone buzzed – Alyssa's face lighting up the screen. Y/N smiled, knowing her best friend had probably already devoured every word. As the head of corporate sponsorships at Manhattan's largest sports marketing firm, Alyssa always had the best insider information – and opinions to match.

"Y/N! Have you lost your mind?" Alyssa didn't even wait for a hello. "That post about Jack and Serena is everywhere! My entire office is buzzing about it. The PR team for the Rangers is having a field day."

"Good evening to you too, bestie." Y/N spun lazily in her chair, a satisfied smirk playing on her lips.

"Never mind pleasantries. I have information that's going to make your next post even bigger." Y/N could hear the smile in her voice. "You know that charity gala at The Plaza next weekend? The one my firm is coordinating with?"

Y/N threw her head back and groaned dramatically. The motion made her neck crack, and she absently rubbed it while whining, "Don't rub it in. I've been trying to get press credentials for weeks. Even my usual connections couldn't get me in."

"Well, guess who's not only attending but is being honored for his youth hockey program?"

Y/N shot forward so fast her chair rolled back and hit the wall, rattling her framed cover of Time Magazine. "Jack Hughes."

"Bingo. And since I'm basically running the whole event..." Alyssa paused for dramatic effect. "I happen to have an extra ticket with your name on it. Perks of being best friends with someone who has to make sure all the corporate sponsors play nice with their hockey darlings."

"Shut up!" Y/N leaped out of her chair, nearly tripping over her discarded shoes in excitement. She caught herself on the edge of her desk, sending a stack of press releases flying. "Alyssa Martinez, you beautiful genius! How did you swing that?"

"Let's just say I convinced the foundation board that having an influential blogger there would be good publicity for their youth programs." Alyssa's voice took on a more serious tone. "Though after this post, I might have some explaining to do. You better make this worth it."

Y/N's heart raced as she glanced at her blog post still glowing on the screen, her mind already spinning with possibilities. "Trust me, this is going to be the story of the year."

"I'm counting on it. My reputation is on the line here too, you know. These athletes might be my clients, but you're my best friend. Don't make me regret mixing the two."

"Have I ever let you down before?" Y/N was already opening her notes app, fingers flying across the keyboard.

"There's a first time for everything," Alyssa teased. "So, are you ready to get the other side of the story?"

...

One Week Later

Y/N stood before her full-length mirror, smoothing down the silk of her black dress. Beside her, Alyssa was applying a final coat of mascara, her own black dress a perfect complement with its off-shoulder design.

"Stop overthinking it," Alyssa said, catching Y/N's distant expression in the mirror. "I can literally see the gears turning in your head."

Y/N sighed, fiddling with her delicate silver necklace. The blog post about Jack and Serena had exploded over the past week, becoming her most viral story to date. But something about it had been nagging at her, keeping her up at night as she replayed Serena's words in her mind.

"It's just..." Y/N paused, carefully considering her words. "What if we got it wrong? What if Serena isn't the victim she's making herself out to be?"

Alyssa raised an eyebrow. "Since when do you second-guess a source?"

"Since something doesn't add up." Y/N moved to her vanity, pretending to touch up her subtle smoky eye while her thoughts raced. "I've been doing some digging. Every charity event, every hospital visit, every youth program – Jack Hughes doesn't publicize any of it. His team's PR doesn't even push it. What kind of attention-seeking bad boy does good deeds and keeps them quiet?"

"So you think Serena's lying?"

"I think..." Y/N turned to face her friend, determination settling over her features. "I think she's a scorned ex trying to control the narrative. And maybe... maybe I helped her do it."

Alyssa's lips curved into a knowing smile. "And this sudden crisis of conscience has nothing to do with those ice-blue eyes you mentioned in your post?"

"This isn't about that," Y/N protested, but she could feel the heat rising in her cheeks. "This is about the truth. The real story." She grabbed her clutch, checking one last time that her phone and recorder were inside. "Every good journalist knows there are two sides to every story. It's time I found out his."

"Well then," Alyssa linked their arms together, leading them toward the door. "Let's go get your story, Lois Lane."

As they stepped into the waiting car, Y/N's mind was already racing with possibilities. She'd built her career on exposing the truth, even when it wasn't pretty. But tonight felt different. Tonight, she wasn't just chasing a story – she was chasing redemption. And maybe, just maybe, she'd find out who the real Jack Hughes was in the process.

The Plaza Hotel beckoned in the distance, its lights twinkling against the Manhattan skyline like a beacon. Y/N took a deep breath, steeling herself for what was to come. Bad boy or misunderstood hero, she was going to find out the truth – even if it meant admitting she got it wrong the first time.

...

Jack's pov

Jack's knee wouldn't stop bouncing under the pristine white tablecloth, making the water in his parents' glasses ripple like tiny earthquakes. Luke, ever the annoying little brother, flicked his ear.

"Dude, you're making the whole table shake. What's got you so worked up?" Luke's grin was nothing short of devilish. "Could it be a certain viral blog post about your 'high school mentality'?"

Jack pinched the sensitive spot under Luke's bicep, earning a satisfying yelp. "Shut up, man. At least I didn't trip over my own skates at practice yesterday."

"Boys," Ellen Hughes' warning tone cut through their bickering. She smoothed her navy dress with one hand while giving them both the look – the one that had stopped many locker room fights in their youth. "You're at a charity gala, not the rink. Act like grown men, please?"

"Yes, Mom," they chorused in unison, sharing a quick grin that made their father Jim chuckle behind his menu.

Jack let out a heavy breath, tugging at his bow tie. It felt too tight, like everything else lately – the press, the expectations, the endless questions about Serena. His leg started bouncing again.

"That's it." He pushed back from the table, his chair scraping against the floor. "I need a drink."

"Water," his mother called after him. "You have a speech to give!"

Jack waved in acknowledgment, weaving through the sea of evening gowns and tuxedos. His shoulder twinged – phantom pain from the injury that had started this whole mess. Or maybe it was just his body's reaction to stress. The blog post had been everywhere this week, his phone blowing up with messages from teammates asking if he'd seen it.

He had. Multiple times. Each read made him want to throw his phone into the Hudson.

Reaching the bar, he slumped against the polished marble, pressing his forehead to the cool surface for just a moment. "Water, please," he groaned to the bartender. "Still, not sparkling."

"Trouble in paradise?"

The voice was unfamiliar, tinged with curiosity and something else he couldn't quite place. Jack lifted his head to find a woman in a black dress perched on the barstool next to him, stirring what looked like a cosmopolitan with delicate fingers. She wasn't looking at him directly, but he could see the hint of a smile playing at the corners of her mouth.

Before he could respond, a flash of red appeared in his peripheral vision, and he had to fight the urge to groan out loud.

"Jackie!" The voice was unmistakable – Rebekah Chen, Page Six's most persistent reporter. Her red dress matched her lipstick, both as bold as her personality. She latched onto his arm like a barnacle, fake nails digging into his jacket. "I've been trying to reach you all week!"

Jack threw his head back, closing his eyes as if that might make her disappear. "Not today, Rebekah," he muttered, feeling every muscle in his jaw tense. His hand curled around the water glass the bartender had just set down, knuckles white.

"Oh, come on!" She pressed closer, her voice dropping to what she probably thought was a seductive whisper. "Just a few questions. I can help you clear the air about that nasty blog post. Make that gossip guru eat her words." She batted her eyelashes. "All I need is a teensy exclusive about what really happened with Serena."

Jack's laugh was hollow as he extracted his arm from her grip. "Right, because that worked out so well the last time." He took a long drink of water, adam's apple bobbing as he tried to maintain his composure. "No comment, Rebekah. Same as yesterday, and the day before that, and—"

"But Jackie—"

"Not happening." Jack's voice was firm as steel. "There's nothing to say, Rebekah. Not to you, not to anyone."

Rebekah huffed, her red lips turning down into a pout. She opened her mouth to protest again, but something in Jack's expression must have finally gotten through. With a dramatic sigh and flip of her hair, she clicked away on her stilettos, no doubt in search of easier prey.

Jack's shoulders dropped as tension bled out of them. He turned back to the bar, catching the mystery woman in black watching him in the mirror behind the bottles. When their eyes met, she didn't look away.

"That happen often?" she asked, taking a slow sip of her cosmopolitan.

Jack let out a dry laugh, running a hand through his carefully styled hair. "More than I'd like. Apparently, 'no comment' is journalist-speak for 'try harder.'" He paused, studying her reflection. "Though you don't seem like the pushy type."

"Maybe I'm just better at playing the long game." The corner of her mouth quirked up, and she turned to face him properly. "Besides, the real story usually isn't found in ambushing someone at a bar."

"Exactly." He found himself leaning against the bar, angling toward her. There was something about her that made him want to keep talking. "Like this blog post that went viral this week. Everyone's got an opinion about who I am, what I did wrong, but—" He stopped himself, shaking his head. "Sorry, you probably haven't even seen it."

She hummed noncommittally, that almost-smile playing on her lips again. "I might have caught it. Though I tend to be more interested in the stories that don't make headlines."

"Like what?"

"Like why a professional hockey player spends his injury rehab teaching kids to skate in Harlem instead of lounging on some beach somewhere."

Jack blinked, caught off guard. He'd been careful about keeping that quiet. "How did you—"

"Just someone who pays attention," she said, gathering her clutch. "The real story isn't always the loudest one, is it?"

Before Jack could process what she meant, Luke's voice carried across the room. "Jack! Mom says get back here. Speech time!"

The woman in black slid off her barstool with practiced grace. "Sounds like you're needed elsewhere."

"Wait," Jack said, suddenly not wanting her to disappear into the crowd. "I didn't catch your name."

"Y/N," she offered, and for a moment, her smile was full and genuine. "Good luck with your speech, Jack.”

She moved past him, the subtle scent of her perfume lingering. Jack found himself watching her weave through the crowd, his mind replaying their conversation. There had been something different about her – the way she'd asked questions without really asking them, how she'd known about his volunteer work but hadn't tried to use it against him like Rebekah would have.

"Dude." Luke appeared at his elbow, poking him in the ribs. "Stop staring into space. Mom's going to kill us both if you're late for your own award."

"Yeah, yeah, I'm coming." Jack followed his brother back to their table, but his eyes kept scanning the crowd. He spotted her finally, sliding into a seat near the back beside another woman in black. As if sensing his gaze, she glanced up, raising her cosmopolitan in a small salute.

For the first time in weeks, Jack felt himself genuinely smile.

...

"...and with your continued support, we can make sure every kid who wants to play hockey has that chance, regardless of their circumstances. Thank you."

The ballroom erupted in applause. Jack's shoulders relaxed slightly – public speaking had never been his favorite part of the job, but at least this speech was about something that mattered.

Near the back of the room, Y/N leaned toward Alyssa. "We should go," she whispered, gathering her clutch. "We're not gonna get anything else tonight."

Alyssa nodded, already standing. "At least the champagne was good."

They slipped out as the crowd continued clapping, their heels clicking against the marble floors of The Plaza's ornate lobby. Y/N's mind was already spinning with how she'd write this up – not the puff piece everyone would expect, but something different. Something true.

"Y/N!"

The call echoed through the lobby, making her freeze mid-step. That voice – she'd just been listening to it give a speech about youth hockey programs and second chances.

She turned slowly, Alyssa's hand gripping her arm in surprise. Jack Hughes was jogging toward them, bow tie slightly askew, still slightly breathless from his speech. His hair was ruffled like he'd been running his hands through it, and there was a slight flush to his cheeks that hadn't been there at the bar.

"I—" he started, then seemed to realize he was still slightly out of breath. His hand came up to rest gently on her bare arm, the touch surprisingly warm. "Hey."

Y/N's eyebrows rose. "Hey yourself. Shouldn't you be back there accepting congratulations?"

He waved his free hand dismissively, though he didn't move the one on her arm. "They'll survive without me for a few minutes." His ice-blue eyes darted between her and Alyssa, a mix of nervousness and determination crossing his features. "You should come out with us. Both of you," he added quickly, offering Alyssa a genuine smile. "My teammates are headed to this bar just down the street. Nothing fancy, just... drinks. And conversation."

The way he said 'conversation' made Y/N's pulse quicken. There was weight behind it, meaning she couldn't quite decipher.

"I don't know," she started, but Alyssa cut her off.

"We'd love to," her supposed best friend said, ignoring Y/N's sharp look. "Lead the way, Hughes."

Jack's face broke into a grin that transformed his entire appearance. Gone was the serious hockey player from the podium, replaced by something younger, lighter. "Great! I just need to grab Luke and dodge my parents." He squeezed Y/N's arm gently before letting go. "Don't leave, okay? Five minutes, tops."

He was already backing away, that grin still in place. "Wait for me," he called out, just before turning.

Y/N waited until he was out of earshot before turning to Alyssa. "What are you doing?"

"Getting you the real story," Alyssa smirked, already typing on her phone. "Isn't that what you wanted?"

Y/N opened her mouth to argue, then closed it. She thought about Jack's smile, the warmth of his hand on her arm, the way he'd said 'conversation' like he was offering something more than just drinks and small talk.

"Five minutes," she conceded, trying not to smile at Alyssa's triumphant expression. "But if this backfires, I'm blaming you."

"Honey," Alyssa linked their arms, steering them toward the bar's entrance. "Something tells me this is going to be the best story you've ever written."

...

The bass thrummed through Y/N's bones as they approached the club, the line wrapping around the building like a snake. Jack stayed close to her side, his presence warm and solid as they bypassed the queue entirely.

"Mr. Hughes," the security guard nodded, unhooking the velvet rope without hesitation. "Welcome back."

Inside, bodies packed the dance floor, but Jack navigated them through the crowd with practiced ease. His hand ghosted over Y/N's lower back, guiding her through the maze of people until they reached a raised section cordoned off with another rope. Several men Y/N recognized from hockey highlights were sprawled across the plush booths, drinks already flowing.

"Look who finally made it!" Luke called out, now free of his bow tie and jacket. "We were starting to think Mom trapped you in conversation with the Vanderbilts again."

"Barely escaped," Jack laughed, helping Y/N up the small steps before following. "Everyone, this is Y/N and Alyssa."

The team welcomed them warmly, shuffling to make space. Y/N found herself wedged between Jack and the booth's arm, hyperaware of every point where their bodies touched. Her notebook felt like it was burning a hole in her clutch.

"I'm telling you," one of the players – Miller, according to his heated gesture at his teammate – was saying, "game seven, '94 Finals. Best hockey game ever played."

"You weren't even born yet!" Another player – Thompson – argued back. "2010 Olympics, Canada versus USA. That's peak hockey right there."

"You're both wrong," Luke interjected, leaning forward. "2018 World Juniors, outdoor game. Nothing beats playing in actual snow."

"That's because you scored the winning goal, you biased little shit," Jack laughed, his arm sliding naturally along the booth behind Y/N. The movement brought him closer, his cologne mixing with the lingering scent of his aftershave.

"What about you?" he asked, turning those blue eyes on her. "You follow hockey long?"

"My dad used to play," she found herself saying truthfully. "Nothing professional, just beer league, but he loved it. Taught me to skate before I could walk."

Something in Jack's expression softened. "Mine too. Well, him and my mom..." He shifted, angling toward her more fully. "It's different now though, isn't it? The pressure. Everyone watching, waiting for you to mess up. Luke and Quinn, they get it, but we're barely home at the same time anymore. Summer's all we got, really. And even then..." He trailed off, vulnerability flickering across his features in the dim light.

Y/N's chest tightened. This wasn't the cocky player from the tabloids or the bitter ex-boyfriend from Serena's story. This was just... Jack. Raw and real and trusting her with pieces of himself she had no right to.

"I need a drink," she blurted, already sliding out of the booth. "Excuse me."

She practically fled to the bar, gripping the edge of it when she reached it. "Whiskey sour," she managed when the bartender looked her way. "Strong."

"Oh my god, Y/N!"

She turned to find Rebekah Chen stumbling slightly, clearly several drinks in. Her red dress was slightly askew, her lipstick smudged at one corner.

"Is Jack here?!" Rebekah's voice pitched high with excitement.

"No," Y/N said firmly, accepting her drink from the bartender. "He's not."

"Ugh." Rebekah deflated, then perked up again almost instantly. "But oh my god, you'll never believe what Serena told me about him." She leaned in conspiratorially, alcohol heavy on her breath. "He's a total player. Like, major cheater. She said he was always sliding into girls' DMs when they were together, coming to places like this..." She gestured around the club. "Getting with random girls behind her back."

Y/N's eyes widened despite herself. The Jack she'd just left didn't seem capable of that kind of betrayal, but...

"Yeah!" Rebekah pressed on, encouraged by Y/N's reaction. "Serena has receipts too. Screenshots, dates, everything. She's just waiting for the right moment to release them." She swayed slightly. "Guess the golden boy isn't so golden after all, right?"

Y/N's drink suddenly felt heavy in her hand. Behind her, she could hear Jack's laugh carrying over the music, warm and genuine. She thought about how carefully he'd helped her through the crowd, how softly he'd spoken about his brothers.

How absolutely screwed she was if she was starting to believe in him.

...

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no-144444 · 13 hours ago

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'then we can'- o.piastri

summary: breaking up sucks.

pairing: oscar piastri x fem! reader

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

Waking up alone sucked, he’d learnt that in recent months.

You were gone. He’d fucked it up.

He dialled his mom’s number as the sun set over London.

“Osc?” she yawned. “It’s 2am, are you alright?”

“Mum, I fucked it up,” he cried, his eyes clouding as his voice broke. “I don’t know what to do.”

She sighed. She’d heard from Hattie that you and Oscar had broken up, and while she was heartbroken that she’d lost the girl she thought would become her daughter-in-law, she understood the reasons by which you two broke up. Neither of you had any time anymore. You were a Prima Ballerina and the Royal Ballet in London. He was a Formula One driver all the way in Monaco. He couldn’t make time for you in his schedule, and neither could you, yet you always seemed to, which led to him feeling increasingly guilty every time you begged him to come to London to see you, and he had to refuse. So he broke up with you. The girl he’d loved since he was 7 years old back in Melbourne. The girl who came to every single one of his remote control car races, the girl who smiled the brightest when she knew he was in the audience for one of her rehearsals, the girl who loved him more than he’d ever thought possible, the girl who he’d loved more than he’d ever known he could.

And it was his fault it was over. He’d sent the text, he’d dodged the calls, he’d blocked you, he’d pleaded with his family to block your contacts, going as far as to steal their phones to do it himself. It was all him.

“Baby,” she sighed, getting out of bed and walking to the kitchen, making herself a tea. She knew it was going to be a long conversation. “What happened?”

“I saw her,” he whispered into the phone, tears streaming down his face as he somehow stopped himself from breaking down completely. “I’m in London. I saw her dance.”

“Okay,” she nodded. “How was it?”

“It was beautiful,” he wiped his eyes. “She was beautiful.”

“I’m glad you got to see her,” she smiled sadly. “I know this is hard, Osc, but you have to let her go. That’s what you wanted.”

He closed his eyes, a pained expression on his face. “I don’t think it’s what I want anymore.”

Nicole took a deep breath. “Oscar, you can’t play with her like that. It’s been 3 months. If it’s been hard for you, imagine how she felt. The love of her life broke up with her.”

He nodded. “I know,” he spoke, his voice breaking. “I know. I just… I don’t know if any of this is worth it if I can’t have her.”

“I don’t know if you can have her anymore,” she said, her voice comforting but stern. He had to understand that he did this to himself. He had to understand that he had to make amends here. “She’s going through the same thing, Osc, I know it’s hard. Heartbreak is awful. It makes you feel insane. You feel like you’re drowning, and she’s the only person that can save you, I understand.”

“I just want to talk to her again,” he admitted, his voice breaking. “I just… I want to apologise and I want her to take me back.”

He cried for a few moments, his mom comforting him as he felt his entire world fall around him, and he could only think of you. He was drowning, and you were the only person who would save him, but he sent you away.

“I just, I feel so alone, all the fucking time! I feel so empty all the time, because I know I don’t have her anymore. And Hattie and Eddie, and Mae, they all fucking hate me! They all hate me, and I get why! I’m not sure I don’t hate myself!” he sobbed. For the next hour, he cried to his mom about everything, how guilty he felt, how much love he had for you, how much he missed you, how incredible you were. Everything. When he finally called down, Nicole spoke again.

“I’m going to come to the next race, alright?”

“Thanks mum,” he sniffled.

“And the girls don’t hate you,” she told him. “They adore you because you’re their older brother. They’re here for you Oscar. We all are.”

He nodded. “Thanks mum.”

“I love you, go get some sleep, yeah?” she smiled.

“Yeah.”

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ

His mom was in the paddock for Las Vegas, battling with her own jet lag, her 3 daughters, and a son who was not doing well. But, she had a trick up her sleeve. She had also brought Logan and Arthur, who would hopefully calm Oscar down, or at least let him forget about you for a while.

“Mate, what’s up?” Lando asked, staring at his satiated teammate. “You look dead.”

“Nothing,” he brushed him off. “Just tired. Ready for the season to be over.”

He nodded. “You sure? You seem… off.”

“I’m fine.”

“Alright man, well, if you want to you can talk to me,” he offered him a soft smile before getting up, not expecting an answer.

Oscar smiled softly as he watched his mom and sisters pile into the meeting room, bright smiles on their faces. Quickly, the room was a flurry of hugs and ‘hi’s’, then turned into a nice family conversation.

“How’s Y/n?” he couldn’t help but ask during a quiet part of their conversation. The air changed, grew thicker.

“She’s alright,” Hattie smiled. “Dancing.”

“Oscar went to see her,” Nicole informed her daughters and watched as they went wide-eyed and nodded, understanding the weight of their brother's heartbreak. “He said she was beautiful.”

“Did you talk to her?” Mae asked, he shook his head.

“I just went to see the show.”

“That’s probably for the best,” Eddie added. “It’s only been what, 3 months?”

“4,” he corrected. “And 12 days.”

Damn, it was bad.

“You should try to let her go,” Eddie sighed. “She’s happy in London, she’s happy being a dancer. She’s happy. Is that not enough?”

He squeezed his eyes shut. “That’s really helpful,” he said, just above a whisper.

“We’ll leave you to get ready for the race,” Nicole sighed, pressing a kiss to the side of his head. “Be careful out there.”

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ

The girls left the room and their faces dropped from the fake comforting smiles they had plastered on.

“What the fuck is he going to do?” Hattie asked.

“Look, I know it’s hard for him right now, be he’ll work through it-”

“No mum, Y/n’s here.”

“Shit.”

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ

He went through his steps before a race, stretching, reaction exercises, and listening to the voicenote you’d left him 4 months and 4 days ago.

“Hey love, I just wanted to wish you good luck today. I can’t wait to see you in a few weeks, and I’ll be cheering you on with everyone here. I know you’re going to do well today, I can just feel it. I love you Osc, please be safe.”

Sometimes he wondered if he got hurt, you would call him. He wasn’t sure, and he was risking himself more than he already did, being an F1 driver, so he hoped he’d never find out.

“Come on Oscar, let’s get to the grid!” Tom called after him as Oscar caught up.

Two words, Las Vegas. Cold, dark, and unforgiving. The land of bad decisions. He was on the front row, finally qualifying in p5, but with his fifteen-place grid penalty, he knew the race was going to be gruesome. But all he had to do was drive. He was good at that, great at that. He liked being in the car nowadays, it was the only time he didn’t think about you.

He bumped into someone on his way to the grid and, as usual, apologised without really thinking about it. He looked up for a split second and he saw you. Stunning, kind, real, you. In the flesh. He stopped in his tracks, ignoring the way his team shouted for him, and he set off running after you. People whipped by as he knocked into person after person, desperately trying to grab ahold of your sleeve, or call your name loud enough to catch your attention, but he could barely speak. Somehow someone always got in the way between you two, and he was always just a little bit too far back to tap you, so he sufficed for being dragged back to the grid and being held in his car until the lights went out. He just had to drive and get to the finish line first, he had to see you before you left. Easy when he was starting from p20. A fifteen-place grid penalty for new components to his car. He just had to race.

The lights went out and what came after was 50 of a Piastri over-taking masterclass. Up to p13 in one corner, pitstop and fighting his way all the way up into p1. Oscar Piastri was a 3-time Gran Prix winner. He’d won Hungary, Baku, and Las Vegas. The King of Sin-City for a night, and yet all we wanted was to figure out where you were. He asked every driver, wondering if you were visiting a garage as a guest- no. He wandered into every motorhome, asking if you were a guest- no. He checked every single fan zone (even checking a few grandstands that also had paddock passes), nothing. With no luck, exhaustion, and the beginnings of convincing himself he was seeing things, he retired back to his driver’s room, his back aching, his head hurting, and his mind racing. Inside Nicole sat on the bed.

“Hey mum,” he smiled tiredly.

“Hey darling,” she smiled, taking his hand as he sat down. “Are you alright?”

“I’m tired,” he admitted, yawning as he lay his head in his mother’s lap. There was a knock at the door and Oscar was much too tired to open his eyes, getting up and opening it was out of the question.

“Come in,” Nicole called out. Then she gasped, and while it made Oscar’s heart rate go up, he didn’t open his eyes.

“Y’alright?” he asked.

“I’ll leave you two to talk,” she got up as Oscar shot up, coming face to face with you.

You looked so beautiful he wanted to cry.

“Hi,” you smiled.

“Hi,” he answered.

“You can lie back down if you want, I know you must be tired,” you urged him to sit down and he followed your instructions. “I just came in to say congratulations.”

“Thank you,” he smiled awkwardly. “I came to see the show,” he admitted. You nodded, looking slightly shocked.

“I-I had no idea,” you chuckled, speaking truthfully. “I didn’t think you’d ever come see me.”

He squeezed his eyes shut, nodding. “You were incredible,” he pushed through the emotion piling in his throat. Was that really the bar that he’d set for the love of his life? You’d come to countless races, missed opportunities to see him, yet he couldn’t even make a small amount of time for you to come and see a 90 minute show of which you were the lead of? Was he really that pathetic?

“Thank you,” you said, sitting beside him. “You were incredible today.”

“Thank you.”

“Your mum called me,” you explained. “She said you weren’t doing very well.”

He took a deep breath. “She’s right.”

“Me neither,” you admitted. “I mean, I act like I’m fine but the second I see something that reminds me of you I just…”

“I’m so sorry,” he teared up. “I love you so much.”

You looked at him, putting a hand on his cheek. “I love you too.”

“Can we give it another try?” he pleaded.

“Can you promise me that I’ll feel like a priority?”

He nodded, trying not to break down.

“Then we can.”

3 words. 3 words of mercy. 3 words he loved more than hearing ‘I love you’ from your perfect lips.

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

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