#so at least i got a chapter out before break ends
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satoruxx · 12 hours ago
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I AM FINALLY ALMOST DONE WITH WOLF TOJI I THINK I’LL POST IT TOMORROW
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man-i-love-fanfiction · 2 days ago
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To Share the Space with Simple Living Things - Hozier x Fem! Florist!Reader
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Chapter Four: Poppies - Imagination
Summary: You finally get to visit Andrew at his workplace, and he discovers a not-so-new way to handle his feelings.
Word Count: 2711
Author's note: Hope you're all enjoying! Sorry again for having such a splotchy posting schedule, between holidays and getting the flu I was... preoccupied. Anyways, have a chapter of your favorite tattoo artist yearning his heart out as compensation 🖤
tag list: @celery-grace @gayandfairycore @deathmybride @harry-bowie-mercury @hodgepodge-musings @blue-eyed-bug @secretttytttttttttt @dinner-n-dxatribes @padfootblackswh0r3
fic below the cut <3
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It had been three days since you had gotten coffee with him, and all Andrew could think about was you. It was getting a little concerning. Concerning to him, at least. He was a grown man, who was he to have — for lack of a better word — a crush? Let alone one he was too embarrassed to express his feelings for?
It was close to torture, but he had no right to complain. He had brought this upon himself, and he accepted it. He asked a woman, particularly one he thought was beautiful, to get coffee with him, paid for her, and still ended the whole affair with their relationship being at most friends and at the very least acquaintances. Stupid idea, and the definition of a missed opportunity. Alex had already berated him over this decision (“What do you mean you bought her coffee, just the two of you, and you didn’t even attempt to drop a hint that you like her?”). And it’s not like he didn’t torture himself over it, thoughts randomly popping up telling him what he could’ve or should’ve said or done. The regrets he had, no matter how minuscule they were, ate away at him when he had nothing else to think about. All because of a choice he made and a label he refused to give. What a way to self-sabotage.
Everything about you, from how you met to how easily your conversations flowed, was magnetic, pulling his thoughts (and him) towards you. The serendipity of it all was like he had been transported into one of those overly saccharine romantic comedy movies he would sometimes catch his mother watching. What was the term she had used once? A meet-cute?
The slight vibration of his phone in his pocket brought him back to his reality. A call from an unknown number. Usually, he would hang up, or at least ignore it. But he was in between clients, and more importantly, a little bored. So he answered.
“Hello?”
“Hi. It’s Y/N. From the florist.” Andrew let out a sigh of relief at the sound of your voice. “That end of the world you were warning me about last time never happened, so I had enough time to finish your bouquet.”
He chuckled at that, a lighter sound than he intended.
“That’s fantastic. Both the world not ending and the bouquet being ready.”
“Is it alright if I swing by soon?
“Yeah. I’m on my lunch break in between clients, so I’m free.”
“Perfect. See you in…” you paused, which he surmised was you mentally calculating how long it would take you to get there before continuing, “about fifteen minutes.”
“I’ll be waiting for you.”
He grimaced as you hung up the phone, and true to his word, he waited. His time was occupied with sketching a design for an appointment he had in a few weeks, Alex hanging around with him. Immediately, everything was put down when you walked in. Fifteen minutes later, just like you had told him, he heard the bell above the door ring. He watched as you opened the door, tightly gripping a vase containing the flowers, letting in a beam of sunlight with your entrance.
“I’ve got one order of a chrysanthemum arrangement for Andrew?” You announced, feigning not knowing who he was.
“Great, you're here. Let me take that off your hands.”
He rushed over and grabbed the bouquet from you, and in a moment he had to remember to thank the gods for later, his fingers brushed yours, making his heart rate spike so suddenly he almost had a medical issue.
God, he was pathetic.
“Thank you so much for this. You never fail to amaze me.”
“Of course. You can keep the vase, by the way. Free of charge.”
He looked down at you, his brows furrowed but a smile still on his face.
“You are physically incapable of not being nice to me, huh?”
“Please. I do this for all of my orders. You're not special,” you joked, and he scoffed in reply.
“Wow… and I thought we were friends!”
“I’m just humbling you a little. Besides, I can't let other customers think I have favorites. It's unprofessional.”
“Favorites? Plural? Do I have competition?”
“Yes. It's you and a little old lady that orders centerpieces for her dinner parties. Don't go beating her up for the top spot.”
A beat passed before a mischievous smirk came across your face.
“Though, I am a fan of a guy that would fight in my honor.”
Not being able to sense your tone, Andrew swiftly changed the topic, unsure and unwilling to think about how he'd throw a punch for you.
“So, you used flower language for this, right? What's it all mean?”
You smiled, and the way your face lit up gave him a rush, a sudden burst of butterflies in his stomach. He listened intently, despite his urges to focus on you and not the words you were saying.
“Alright, I’ll give you a quick rundown of the meanings. Chrysanthemums are joy, of course. There are some sunflowers, specifically dwarf sunflowers, because they represent pride, like how you’re proud of your work, hopefully. Orange roses for fascination. And last but not least, calla lilies for magnificence and beauty, like what you create here. Hopefully you and your colleagues like it.”
He couldn't help the incredulous laugh that cane at the end of your statement.
“Are you kidding me? It's beautiful. Of course I like it,” he reassured. You didn't verbally reply, but the new warmness of your features was all the response he needed.
He paid, making a comment along the way about how he almost left his wallet at home this morning, but caught himself: “I promise I’m not forgetful, just… all over the place.” You listened, seemingly actually invested, and took the money from him once he offered.
“Thank you. You are single-handedly keeping my small business afloat.”
He raised an eyebrow at that, both out of confusion and concern.
“Are you not doing well?”
“I mean, we're making sales, meeting the quotas we should be. Barely. But we're not exactly a hotspot anymore. It's not common for people to get flowers, and if they do they get cheap bouquets cheaply made at a grocery store or online. People these days don't bother to make an effort.”
He observed you as you thought for a moment, a pause only he could have read into. He could’ve sworn you looked him up and down, though his hopeful imagination could have tricked him. There was more optimism in your tone this time around.
“You do, though. Make an effort, I mean. I appreciate it. You might be the only guy I know that does.”
Your words were taken to heart, but he deflected your compliment, fearing he'd become too flustered if he let it linger.
“Is the bar truly that low?”
“That's not low! These days, finding a guy who tries is like winning the lottery.”
You barely gave him time to react before pulling out your phone, which had just vibrated in your pocket.He could already see the disappointment set into your features.
“Crap. I have to get back.”
He offered an understanding nod, knowing as much as he wished he could stay in this moment, reality had to set back in.
“I hate to say goodbye, but it was really nice to see you. And your place of work. Keep me posted on if the flowers help raise people’s spirits.”
“Goodbye. Parting is such sweet sorrow.”
“Quoting The Bard at me? So you’re an artist and a nerd. Full of surprises, aren’t you?”
“I am. There’s a lot you don’t know about me.”
“Oh, I’m sure I’ll find out more soon enough. I’ll see you later.”
“Goodbye.”
The door closed behind you, leaving Andrew feeling a bit emptier now that you were no longer there. Finding the right time, Alex made his presence known again. Andrew was so focused on you he had almost forgotten he was in the room.
“So… that's the Y/N you keep talking about?”
“That's her.”
“The one you platonically took to a coffee shop?”
“The very same.”
Alex gave him a look: a squint accompanied by an oddly pensive expression, like he was trying to make the situation make sense.
“Is something the matter? Do… do you not approve?” Andrew asked. Alex replied slowly, cautiously.
“No, she seems wonderful. No complaints here. In fact, that’s the issue.”
“How so?"
“Maybe because you took a woman, an amazing one at that, on an outing that was a date in every aspect but its name. You essentially blocked yourself off from you two being romantic. It doesn’t make sense to me! How are you the same lad that would write love songs in college?”
“That was a decade ago! I’m more cautious now.”
“Oh, yeah. You're so cautious, in fact, that you started liking your florist. A woman that you've only met four times, including one time where you basically went on a date!”
Andrew felt a shame as if he had just been yelled at by a parent, though most of the sting came from the truth of his words. Only after he exhaled a deep sigh did Alex speak again.
“Listen, I don't mean to scold you. I’m only saying all this because I care about you. That being said, if you don't take this girl out sometime soon…”
“Alex!”
“I’m being serious! I was standing right there. I saw how you look at her and you're… enamored of the poor woman. If you don't do something about the way you feel— doesn't have to be soon, just eventually— then the only person that will regret it is you.”
Andrew gave a slow nod as he processed the other man's words. He hated how wise he could be sometimes.
“I… I need to find the right moment. I need to take my time.”
“Then take it. Just don't bottle up your emotions for too long. You don't handle it well. Plus, after a while of you blabbering on about the same person, it starts to get annoying.”
For the first time since you left, Andrew laughed, Alex joining in a moment afterwards.
“Alright,” he said, slapping a hand on Andrew's shoulder. “Let's get back to work.”
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Andrew ruminated on his friend’s words on the drive home, his grip tightening on the wheel. As much as he hated to admit it, Alex was right; he did need to do something about what he felt for you. But he never did specify what.
It had been a while since he felt like this towards someone, so he wasn't lying when he said he needed to take his time. If he were to ever make a move on you, he would have to make sure he was certain. He didn't want to ruin your newly-labeled friendship, run the risk of throwing away something just starting, and something good. However, that didn’t mean he couldn’t use an alternative method to handle these feelings.
He stepped into his flat, and for the first time in recent memory it felt… empty. Not necessarily from the absence of friends or family, just absence. The empty seats at his table, on his couch, in his bed, they almost screamed at him. He had never realized that the silence of being alone was so deafening.
What better way to fill the silence than with music?
He got straight to work, his craving to create overriding any hunger for actual food he had. Despite his own better judgement, Andrew had written down the lyric he had absentmindedly created a few days ago in his phone. He considered continuing from there, but preferred to do things the old-fashioned way. So he grabbed a pen, sat down at his kitchen table, opened his notebook, and began to write.
I have never known peace like the damp grass that yields to me…
He hadn’t opened himself up to this creative vulnerability in so long, so he was admittedly a little rusty. Words were crossed out, rearranged, and substituted with synonyms if the amount of syllables didn’t fit the rhythm. Eventually, after he had eased into it, it felt no different from when he sketched a stencil or tattooed a client. Oddly enough, the more he wrote and the more effort he put in, the more the lines continued to blur until he felt just as comfortable as he did at his job. Whether it be a tattoo gun or a ballpoint pen, Andrew was always in his element when he had ink.
There was also the added factor of what inspired all of this fervor to write: you. You kickstarted something in his brain, subconsciously flipping a switch. that made him more musical. Before you he would turn on the radio or shuffle his Spotify and merely admire whatever song was playing, but after you came into his life, his thoughts strayed more towards you: I could write something like this. About her.
Should he consider you his muse? He’d decide later on.
Time slipped away from him, to the point that he was shocked to look at the clock and find less than an hour had passed.
One last similarity between the two was discovered. He harbored a similar sense of pride after he had finished— or, more accurately, stopped himself after writing a verse and a chorus. Not a finished verse and chorus either, simply a rough draft to remind him how to get back into the mindset.
The only difference was the audience, or lack thereof. There was no way Andrew was letting anyone see this or even know about it. He would maybe, maybe, consider showing you one day. Even then, he could only imagine he’d want to shrivel up in a corner as you read it, or God forbid, as he sang it to you. He couldn’t dare to think about that now, even though the guitar resting against the wall in his bedroom was almost calling his name. He had to leave it there for now. He could barely handle writing for the day, let alone singing and playing. For now, he was taking baby steps.
Even if he could muster up the courage, there was no chance anything he wrote would be leaving the eyes of his friends and family. He was no poet, and no star. He already had a job that let him express himself and make meaningful pieces of art. For that, he was grateful. He could be happy with keeping the songs for himself, writing for only his own eyes, and letting what he created at his job be for the whole world.
The notebook — funny how such a small object now held a power over him — was closed and stuffed in an empty shelf space in his closet, an attempt at keeping it out of sight and out of mind. His attempt was semi-successful considering every step of the rest of his day was accompanied by the thought of it. Not the shame, just the knowledge of knowing he had written something. The shock of actually having the strength. It stuck with him until he went to bed that night, not even nearing sleep being able to offer him solace. He tossed and turned well into nightfall, until it got to the point that he was getting restless. And desperate. So he picked up his phone. To avoid simply doomscrolling until his eyes began to flutter, he found some website that detailed flower language and started to read.
He willingly went down a rabbit hole, keeping a separate tab open to search for flora he didn't recognize by name. He made mental notes of meanings he found particularly interesting. The last flower he read of before falling asleep was the poppy. It meant eternal slumber, coincidentally what he was longing for at the moment, but also imagination. It was almost perfect how poppies represented the day he had. This was his last coherent thought before he drifted off.
There was a third definition, one that also summarized his day, that Andrew’s eyes didn't stay open to read.
Oblivion.
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joemama-2 · 2 months ago
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velvet lies
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pairing: gojo x fem reader synopsis: crippling debt and possible evictions have ruined you. working two jobs with no downtime, and a five-year-old son, you really don't know the meaning of taking a break. after continuous questions about his father, you have decided to finally let your son meet his dad. only thing is, he has no idea said son exists. and to top it off, you have not a single clue about what kinds of things will transpire from this sudden revelation. tags/warnings: 18+ MDNI, smut, fluff, romance, alcohol, classism, mom! reader, lying, abuse, MAJOR angst, slow burn, exes to lovers, (mentions of) cheating, scandals, death, blood, drugs, drama, family drama, miscommunication, blackmail, unhealthy coping mechanisms, depression, manipulation wc: 5155 a/n: hi everyone! i'm so excited for this piece of work as I have a lot of exciting ideas planned in store! this will probably have slow updates, so please please please be patient with me. thank you all for reading! i'm aiming for at least 15ish chapters, maybe more or less, depends how much i write in one chapter in the future. series masterlist < next chapter
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“Cash or card?”
“Card.”
The sound of light dinging follows, the transaction completed. “Here you go, Miss. Have a good day.”
“Thank you, you too.” The woman takes the small bag from your outstretched hands, giving one last smile before exiting. The bell at the top of the door rings, signifying her exit. You sigh and look at the clock, one more hour. It’s not that long. But you’ve been here since opening and the shoes you’re wearing are beginning to hurt your feet. Maybe you should’ve broken them in more.
It’s a quaint little cafe. Most of the customers are teenagers, college students, or overworked office workers who need caffeine to get them through the day. Other than that, you have no qualms. Of course, it does get a little annoying having to tell the newer, much younger co-workers that they can’t do this or that. 
A mundane routine of making coffees, packing orders, and ringing them up. Just one more hour. 
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As soon as the clock strikes 5:00, you’re clocking out and saying goodbye. The school is an exact walk of ten minutes, six if you’re fast. Then another ten back to the apartment. And finally, another fifteen to the convenience store. 
Hustle and bustle is all you’ve ever known. Sure, you like it most of the time. But you just wish you could get a break. It’s always go, go, go, but never take a rest and time to yourself for a moment. But when you see that adorable smile plaster on those chubby cheeks you never shy away from pinching, it’s all worth it. “Mama!” 
“Baby!” you crouch down and open your arms. The young boy wastes no time in throwing his body into yours, face nuzzled into your chest and arms around your neck. “How was school? Fun?” you ask, hand rubbing his back up and down.
He nods. “Mhm! Mr. Ito says I got the most gold stars out of everyone in class.” 
Your smile grows wistful, aweing. “Wow, such a good boy, aren’t you?”
You carry Koji into your arms, starting the walk back to your very humble apartment. He chatters innocently the entire trek, with you occasionally adding on or asking questions. His soft white hair pokes at your cheek, to which you straighten down with one free hand. It’s days like these where you wish you could just lounge at home with him, basking in his sweet innocence. But while most people are ending for the day, you’re barely starting your second half.
You feel the self-deprecating thoughts fill your mind like a virus while stationed near the light, waiting for the pedestal symbol to indicate. Your grip tightens around your son slightly, as if anchoring yourself to reality and reminding yourself you’re doing it all for him, and to keep going for him. 
It’s hard, yes. But so is parenting. 
The symbol comes on and you walk, seeing the building of your complex in the distance. Forcing any lingering negativity away, you clear your throat. “So, what did you learn today, baby?”
Koji looks up at you. “We learned how to add! I helped Mina.”
“That’s very nice of you.”
He giggles bashfully, leaning into the kiss you place on his cheek. Eyebrows raising as a sudden memory hits him. “Oh! And Mr. Ito said Dad Appreciation Day is coming up soon. There’s gonna be food and music.”
Your smile wavers, footsteps momentarily pausing before continuing. “Oh, really?” you ask, inhaling a wavy breath of air. “That sounds like fun.”
“Mhm.” Koji nods, then tilts his head curiously at you. “But everyone is bringing their daddies. I wanna bring Papa too.” 
And you really try not to make your guilty grimace visible. “I know, sweetie. I know.”
“Can Papa come?” he frowns. 
No, he can’t. But you’re not about to tell your five-year-old that the reason his father can’t make an appearance is because he doesn’t even know he has a son. It’s been a difficult conversation for you. You’re not sure when or how to have these sorts of hard ones with children. So you’ve been dancing around the subject. Saying his dad is away on vacation, or fighting intergalactic dragons, or some other excuse you’ve been forced to use. He believes you, most of the time. But that doesn’t stop his curiosity and growing impatience. 
The last thing you want him to think is that he has no father in the first place.
He does. You’ve shown him pictures and videos occasionally. Of, and of course, he’s an exact carbon copy of the man. From his bright blue eyes, albino hair, and all the way down to his stubborn personality. You were a little annoyed when your only child took quite literally everything from his father, only leaving him with a couple of things from you–your nose and helpful nature. 
“We’ll see. Papa is busy, remember?” you gently reply, walking through the parking lot of your complex to the lobby.
Koji’s frown deepens and so do the metaphorical scars on your heart. “But Papa’s always busy! I wanna see Papa.”
“I know you do, baby. You will soon, okay?”
“Do you promise?”
You hesitate but eventually nod with a forced smile. “Mama promises.”
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After leaving Koji with the babysitter, you give him a quick kiss and recite the list with the babysitter before rushing off to your second job. A convenience store. 
Not the most savory place, mainly because you get all sorts of crazy and odd customers, but also because you are close. You hate closing. But you need the second disposable income and this is the only place that fits with your schedule. It’s also a little more leaned back than the cafe, when there are no customers, you spend your time browsing the web for jobs.
You’ve probably sent in over 500 applications over the years, with not even half of those places reaching out. Even then, you’re not guaranteed a job. The job market is horrible nowadays and you’re living through it.
Whatever, you think to yourself as you clock in. One day at a time.
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It’s around eleven at night when you're slugging back into your apartment, lights dim, and silence enveloping the place. “Thank you, Sana.” You mutter, exhausted but still sparing the 20-year-old a smile. You hand her a small envelope. “For today and last Saturday. How was he?”
Sana thanks you kindly and grabs her stuff. “All good, no tantrums today.”
“That’s good.” you walk into the kitchen, grabbing some food you’ve meal prepped. “Get home safe, okay?”
“Thank you, Y/N. Sleep well.”
When she leaves, you give yourself a moment to slump over the kitchen island, sighing in both relief and lingering tiredness. The silence feels nice, like an old and familiar friend welcoming you and praising you after yet another day of the same routine. You’ve always loved routines, but you can’t help but crave at least some sort of spontaneity. Putting the tupperware of chicken and rice into the microwave for a minute, its light humming makes you zone out. The conversation from before with your son ringing in your mind like a very annoying bell.
Soon, images of his father, your ex, flood your mind. An old fluttery sensation residing in the pit of your stomach, your body suddenly feeling all too warm for your liking. Your fists clench to stop their light trembling, shaking your head free of him. 
Not now.
You stop the microwave at one second, before it makes that obnoxious beeping and wakes your son. There are two chairs at the small dining table, you sit at one of them and eat your now warm meal. You’ve started meal prepping after one too many missed meals and a few incidents where that light-headedness and blurred vision caused you to faint. Luckily, you were alone when that happened. Unluckily, you were alone when that happened. Nursing a few bruises to your forehead after making contact was not a fun time. 
You take time to eat, in no particular rush. Although you know you should be getting ready for bed soon for another early day tomorrow, your body doesn’t move. Either consciously or subconsciously. The end of the day is when you find yourself attempting to unwind and detach from the day’s events. But, the stress of unpaid bills, debts, and worry for the future always find time to crawl back.
It’s exhausting, extremely so. Sure, you’re an adult and this is normal. But don’t you deserve at least a little bit of time when you don’t have to worry about anything? It feels like every waking second your mind is working overtime, your body in a constant state of motion. It’s worn you down completely over the years. But you have a son who needs you, so you suppose you shouldn’t be feeling pity for yourself.
This is what parenting is all about, isn’t it?
Making sacrifice after sacrifice for your child. However, when you feel yourself sinking deeper and deeper, slowly losing more of yourself, what if there’s nothing left to sacrifice in the first place? The eviction bill from this morning taunts you as it lays upright in front of you in the middle of the table.
It’s then do you think, no, you do have one thing left. 
Koji.
If Koji’s gone, then you really have nothing left. There’s no reason to live if that happens. And with the path you’re going down, that’s feeling more and more like a dreaded possibility. 
I wanna see Papa.
Koji’s words play repeatedly. For a second, you feel yourself resonating with your son. Only for a second. You reach for your phone and go to Google, typing in a name that still haunts you. You’re barely three letters in before his name appears and you’re clicking.
A smiling image fills your screen along with other general information.
For some unknown reason, your breath hitches. You feel like he’s almost staring at you, smiling at your pathetic predicament. Grip tightening around your phone, swallowing down an unexpecting lump, tears fall from your eyes and onto the phone screen.
Why you’re crying, you don’t know. It could be many things, but you won’t address that right now.
Gojo Satoru.
The father of your child, your ex of 4 years. 
You rarely look him up, almost never. Only in desperate times when you feel yourself drowning and needing some sort of comfort. It’s stupid. You haven’t been together or even seen him in five years. Not since you ended things with him. Not since you felt his hands roam your skin, whispering sweet words.
He didn’t even protest or question why. Almost like he knew your breakup was inevitable. You’re not sure if that hurts more.
You’re twenty-eight now. But while your life still feels the same from when you met Satoru at the ripe age of nineteen, you’ve reached a plateau. But him? He’s thriving, of course. Making a name for himself, as an heir to one of the biggest conglomerates in Japan, the Gojo Group. 
You’re happy for him. But where is that happiness for yourself?
You feel a little, no, a lot jealous. You always were of Satoru. Being given everything he wants without much thought, never worrying about money, and a stable home life. You’re extremely jealous of that bastard.
But right now, jealousy isn’t in the picture. It’s your son’s father. And if you want to keep your son, give him everything he wants, that starts with one person.
Letting him meet his father. 
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“Honey, do you like your pancakes?” you ask your son who’s currently scarfing down his plate of breakfast. Adorned in an adorable shirt uniform shirt and some little black trousers. He hums back excitedly with a muffled “yes, mama”. With a chuckle, you dry up the rest of the dishes, then your hands. Dropping him off at school is the first thing on your agenda, as per usual. 
The walk to his school is a familiar one, wanting to get your son knowledgeable with the route so when the day comes that he needs to walk him himself, he’d know his way back. You pass by other kids and parents, some children yelling bye as they step onto the school grounds, with others giving their children long-lasting hugs.
You walk until you reach his door, his teacher, Mr. Ito, standing outside and greeting his students as they enter. When he makes eye contact with Koji, he smiles a bit wider. “Good morning, Koji.”
“Good morning!” your son happily replies, waving up at his teacher. With one final hug and kiss shared, he’s running in to already begin talking to his friends. Standing back up, you see Mr. Ito already looking at you. And you especially don’t miss the way his eyes not so subtly rake up and down your figure. You clear your throat. “Good morning.”
He meets your eyes again. “Good morning, Y/N-san. How are you today?”
“Good, and you?” 
“Very good.” 
The way his tone is almost causes you to visibly shiver, brows furrowing slightly in discomfort. One of the things you dislike the most about Koji’s school, his teacher. Although he hasn’t outwardly done or said anything inappropriate, you’re a smart woman. “That’s good. Well…have a nice day.” Doing anything you can to quickly end this dreaded conversation, but still wanting to maintain a level of politeness. 
You’re about to turn on your heel and leave when he calls out. “Ah, Y/N-san?”
Damn it, what now? “Yes?” you turn and look at him.
The distance between you reduces as he steps a little closer. “I have some concerns regarding Koji’s behavior in class. Would you be available to set up a conference anytime this week?”
“Behavior? Has he been misbehaving?” You did not expect that.
“Well, it’s complicated. He has some trouble listening as talks when he shouldn’t. I’d like to nip this in the bud before it grows out of control.” Mr. Ito cooly replies, smile looking more like a hidden smirk. “So, will you be available?”
You hesitate, not really. With your two jobs, you barely have time for yourself, let alone your son’s teacher. But if it’s regarding a behavior problem, then do you have any choice? “I think I’ll be free this Saturday. Weekdays are very hectic for more.”
He nods. “That’s fine, we can grab coffee.” When your head tilts slightly, he adds on with a chuckle. “And discuss Koji over coffee. On me.”
Right, of course. You know what this is, but just think about your son. That’s the priority. “Okay, 8 am at Latte Lounge sound good?”
“Sounds excellent, I’ll see you then. Have a wonderful day.”
With a simple nod back, you turn around and finally leave. Practically feeling the way his eyes shamelessly check out your behind. A frown inevitably grows on your face, why wouldn’t it? As long as this man doesn’t try anything…more, you should be fine. And if he does, 1) you’ll be in public, and 2) you’ll tell him straight up.
Whatever. 
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“Pizza or teriyaki?”
“Pizza!”
“Of course.” you chuckle and put the frozen pizza in your cart, your son clutched onto your right hand after announcing he can walk on his own because he’s a big boy. The grocery store isn’t crowded during this time of day. Rightfully so. It’s 7 pm on a Tuesday, most people already cooking dinner by now. You always grocery shop at this time, your son appreciates it too. There’s been a few times when you both got quickly and very overwhelmed with the bustling nature of the grocery store on a weekend morning. Currently, you’re moving through the snack section now, picking up a few of your and Koji’s favorites. 
“Mama, can I pick a cereal?” Koji asks and points to the cereal aisle next over. When you nod, he happily runs off. You still however make sure to look over at him frequently when picking up and putting down a few snacks. 
You reach up to grab a pack of Hello Panda, the pink and chocolate ones, before a hand beats you to it. “Oh, I’m sorry.” As soon as you look over, you and the stranger meet eyes. 
Immediately, there’s a silence that falls over you two. Eyes each blown wide in shock. 
Oh, you’ve got to be shitting me.
Just your luck. As soon as the stranger speaks, a strange nostalgia fills you. “Y-Y/N?”
It almost sounds weird coming from his lips. Your friend–well, ex?--friend gets out. He still looks the same, just more…manly. 
“...Suguru, I–I’m… surprised to see you.” you awkwardly laugh. Reunions were never easy.
“Oh my god,” Suguru breaths out, shaking his head with a faint smile. “Well, shit. I mean, how are you? You..you look good.” His eyes move down your figure in an appreciative way.
“Thank you, I’m good. How are you? Your hair is longer.” you motion to his sea of black, healthy locks. “ ‘M a little jealous.”
He laughs with you, the sound reminding you of old times. “Yeah, been working on it. And I’m good.”
Another pause is permitted, as if you two aren’t very sure what to say to one another. Well, in all honesty, it has been five years. “Well,” he clears his throat and puts his hands in his pockets. “What are you up to?”
“Oh, you know,” you glance down at your cart. “Just some shopping.”
He also looks down, head tilting slightly. “Ah, right.” With a nod, he juts his head toward the direction of the kid’s toothpaste. “Just for one?” He laughs, joking of course. 
You mentally curse yourself, putting a pack of cookies on top of the toothpaste to hide its already revealed existence. “Uh, ye—”
“Mama! I want this one!” Koji runs up to you, showcasing his desired cereal.
Well…..shit. 
As if things weren’t already complicated.
With Suguru’s eyes even wider than when they were staring at you, his mouth is practically on the floor when the young boy looks at him. His sharp eyes dart across his features and…..
“I-is this—”
“Koji.” you cut him off, gulping and shifting the child closer to your leg. “My son.”
Suguru spends another good minute staring at the boy, who innocently stares back. When his eyes slowly move from the blue ones to yours, there are a million and more questions swirling in his brain. He’s not even sure which one to ask first. But he goes with the obvious. “...Is….is he…..”
You nod uncomfortably. 
He lets out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding, hand running through his hair. “Holy shit, I mean….holy heck.”
Your lips purse, putting Koji’s cereal in your cart before picking him up in your arms. “Koji, this is Suguru. Say hi.”
“Hi.” Koji childishly smiles at the older man. “Are you Mama’s friend?”
Suguru spares you a glance. “Uhm…yeah. Yeah, kid, I am. Nice to meet you.” He then shifts weirdly, not sure if he should shake the boy’s hand, which seems too formal. He decides to gently ruffle his hair. “So…how old is he?”
The question is directed towards you, but Koji answers. “I’m five!” He holds up five small fingers. 
“Five?” Suguru’s brows furrow at you. It’s surprising how quickly you recognize that scolding look of his. “Have you—”
“No.” you once again cut him off, shifting Koji to your hip. “I haven’t.”
“Why?”
That’s a good question. One you know the answer to…slightly. But with Koji looking between you two curiously, you can’t exactly say why. At least not here. “I….I just…haven’t.”
Silence. 
You can feel Suguru regarding you with many emotions, but the main one is confusion. He bites his lip as he thinks over how to react properly to this situation. From the looks of it, Koji is just as clueless as him, maybe even more. “Jesus Christ, I don’t even know what to say right now.” Heavily sighing, he looks back at Koji, then you, then Koji, then finally you. “You’re going to…right? I mean, he deserves to know, Y/N. You’ve just–I mean, come on.”
There’s not much of a response to that, much to his expectation. You always used to do this when you were guilty. But Suguru has always been the more… empathetic of the two. “Look, I–I know you’re probably going through your own things, but…”
You look at him again, remorseful. His lips purse and with a heavy sigh, he takes a card out from his pocket and hands it to you. “Here’s my business card, it has my number. We lost your old one, so.”
Your hand reaches out to take it, examining the words, Rising Futures Foundation. "Building futures, one child at a time.” You meet his eyes again, forcing words out. “Okay…thanks.” 
“No need,” he waves you off, taking down the two Hello Panda boxes and putting them in your cart. “I’m sorry, I have things to do right now, but please…give me a call, okay?”
With slight hesitation, you nod. He mirrors you before focusing on the child again, a smile forming. “See you, buddy.” Suguru pats his shoulder lightly before walking away and away from your vision.
Your mind is being overrun, body feeling stiff and stuck, unsure of how to process what the fuck just happened. No doubt he’s about to tell his best friend. Then said best friend will find you and Koji. Then maybe he’ll try taking you to court for hiding his son for five years. You’ll obviously lose because you have no lawyer and Satoru has the best. Your son, your one and only, your sole happiness will be taken away from you and you’ll be left alone to rot in angui–
“Mama?” Koji’s small hand is put to your cheek, stirring you from your mild comatose state. “Are you okay? You have tears in your eyes.”
“What?” Raising your hand to your eye and sure enough, you are letting loose some tears. “No, no, Mama’s okay. I’m not crying, just…just tired.”
But with growing age, so is his perception. “Are you sure? Did your friend make you cry? I don’t like him then.”
Oh, how sweet. You smile, head tilting. “No, baby. Don’t say that, okay? Mama’s fine. I promise. See? I’m smiling. Wanna smile with me?”
Like clockwork, he follows your emotions and smiles, giggling. “Yeah, I wanna smile with you. I like smiling with you, Mama.”
“And I like it when you smile with me too.”
Maybe, this isn’t too bad. You were just thinking that you want Koji to finally meet his dad. So, this is good. This ensures a meeting. But, it also ensures a deep-rooted, most likely bad confrontation that will take place between you two. Why wouldn’t it? At least you’ll be able to prepare yourself now, mentally. 
You can imagine the harsh words he might say. The raised voices and brutal questions about how you can do this to him and so on. In hindsight, you deserve it. What kind of woman does do this to a man? Children are supposed to be bundles of joy, not hidden secrets. Of course, there’s the lingering worries of what legal action Satoru, or his family, might try to take.
That would quite literally fuck you over so hard.
But…maybe Satoru will go easy on you because of your past. You really don’t know. This situation is messy as fuck and it’s mostly—a lot—because of you. You have no one to blame but yourself. Hopefully, he’ll take pity on you, even though you hate when others pity you. It’s different when it comes to him, the father of your son. It always has been and it probably always will be. 
Honestly, you’re a little relieved that you ran into the best friend of the man than the man himself. Now that would’ve been bad. 
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The sounds of skin against skin fill the room, mixed with heavy grunts and airy moans. The headboard repeatedly hitting the wall plays like a drum, the lights dim and the view of the dark city landscape is exposed. Satoru’s gripping the woman’s hips, leaving crescent-shaped indents in her fair skin. Her constant mewls sound heavenly in his ears. “God, you feel so….good…”
“S-satoru!” 
“Yeah, say my name. Just like that, baby.”
He presses a firm hand down on the small of her back to keep her arch in place, feeling his release invade her warm walls, filling her with a lovely warmth. She clenches around him, moaning out once more as she finishes with him.
He collapses against her back, his heavy breaths tingling her ear. “Baby, that was…so good…” she croaks out. 
Satoru’s mind is fuzzy, vision blurring slightly. He hums in response and leans back up to pull out, discarding the heavy condom with his load into the trashcan beside the bed. “Stay.” With a small pat to her hip, he’s forcing his limbs out of bed and to the connecting bathroom to grab a warm rag. Aftercare. Although most of the time, he really can’t be bothered to do something like this. Cleaning her up feels like a chore sometimes,  but the last time he voiced that opinion, it led to a huge argument between the two. 
In just a few minutes, they’re both cleaned and changed. Wearing his sweats low on his hips while she indulges in just one of his oversized shirts. Another small pet peeve he has. And another thing he must keep his mouth shut about. “What time do you have to go into the office tomorrow?” Himari asks, snuggled up against his chest, dainty fingers tracing circles along the firm muscles. 
“Same time as always,” he sighs, grabbing the TV remote and putting a random show on. “You know that.”
“I know, but…can’t you just call off tomorrow? Please? I wanna spend the day with you.”
When he looks back down at her, she’s frowning. A small tug is pulled at his heart and before he knows it, he’s pulling her closer and placing a gentle kiss to her hair. “Can’t, baby. Maybe this weekend?”
Satoru can feel her ready to protest again, but the sound of the front door downstairs being opened and closed interrupts the moment. Followed by the familiar voice of his friend. “Satoru! You here?”
Satoru’s brows furrow slightly. A small grunt falls from his lips as he maneuvers Himari off his chest, standing up and walking out. He looks down the staircase and sees Suguru staring up at him. “What do you want? I’m sorta busy.” Himari comes out and hugs his waist, proof of his so-called ��busyness”. 
Suguru holds back an eye roll when the woman gives him a look, focusing on his best friend. “Need to talk to you. Privately.” 
“For what?”
“It’s important.”
“So just say it now.”
“Damn it, Satoru. Just come down and kick your friend out.”
“Girlfriend.” Himari corrects with a scowl.
“Yeah, sure.” Suguru waves her off and motions for Satoru to come down as he walks into the man’s kitchen.
Sighing with his eyes closed, he turns to Himari. “Sorry, babe. My driver’ll give you a ride back.”
Once again, she frowns. “But I—”
“Please.” 
His bottom lip pokes out in a small, but convincing pout. “I’ll see you later, mkay?” Satoru reaches his thumb out and brushes it along her cheekbone, which he knows she’s weak for. Confliction and hesitation dance in her eyes but she concedes. Gathering her purse and shows, she gives Satoru a dramatic kiss on the lips before leaving. 
“Finally,” Suguru huffs from the kitchen, swirling a glass of whiskey. “I thought you guys broke up.”
“It was a break.” Satoru grumbles, walking over to stand across from his friend, snatching the glass out his hand and sipping. “Anyway, what’s so important you come unannounced for and demand my sweet company to leave?”
“That woman is not sweet.” 
Satoru smiles and shrugs, “She tastes it.” 
A groan is heard from Suguru, eyes rolling before he shakes his head. “Look, you should sit down.”
“That good, huh?” he plops down in the nearby chair and leans back, arm resting against the back of it. He nods. “Alright, shoot, baby.”
Suguru takes in a deep breath and steels himself for the more than likely hard conversation. A part of him feels like he’s intruding, like it’s not his place to reveal such a thing to him. But at the end of the day, it’s his best friend. And you, well…he’s not exactly sure if you’re still friends or not. “What I tell you might sound crazy, but I need you to promise you’ll stay calm until I’m done speaking, got it?”
Satoru’s brows raise in mild astonishment, seeing Suguru get all serious like this is quite amusing. “Okay, I promise.” He shrugs again. “Can’t be that bad, right? No one’s hurt.”
Not yet, Suguru says to himself. He claps his hands together, mulling over how exactly to break the news. “So, I came across an old friend today.”
“Oh yeah? She cute?” Satoru swirls the alcohol in his glass.
Suguru holds back another eye roll. “Yeah, she is.”
“Nice, man.” the white-haired man chuckles, head tilting. “So what, did she make a move on you or something? Now that’s crazy.”
“I’ll have you know, I’m actually quite favorable amongst women.”
“Are you now?”
“Listen, you ass. No talking, just listening.” When he doesn’t get a response back, he takes it as a sign to continue. “Anyway, I saw an old friend. And…she had a kid with her.” Satoru nods slowly, already getting lost on his this information is even remotely crazy, or relevant to him. But he stays shut, deciding not to face another one of Suguru’s mini-lectures. One more deep breath is let out from Suguru and he gets to the point. “It was Y/N, she has a kid.”
A small beat of silence follows as Suguru gauges his best friend’s reaction. He doesn’t look like he’s flipping out, but he doesn’t show much emotion either. Confusing Suguru, he waits for the inevitable lash out.
“Who?” Satoru ends up asking.
His best friend knits his brows, trying to see if the other man is serious or not. When his expression doesn’t change, he replies. “Y/N…” he speaks slowly. “...your ex?”
Still, no emotion. But his grip on the glass does tighten.  “And she has a kid.” Suguru reiterates, almost in nervousness now. 
“Satoru….the kid looks exactly like you.”
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a/n: thank you guys for reading!!! Sorry if this chapter was a little short, i’ll try to make the next ones a little more longer. But writing super huge chapters isn’t my forte. Anyway, stay tuned for chapter 2 :)
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glossdebut · 2 months ago
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study break | MYG
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✧ PAIRING: yoongi x fem!reader
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✧ SUMMARY: Yoongi was an extremely effective tutor, until he wasn’t. As it turns out, dating the person who is singlehandedly responsible for bringing up your Fundamentals of Music Theory grade isn’t the smartest move in the world. 
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✧ TAGS: college au, smut, fluff
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✧ WARNINGS: oral (f. receiving), vaginal fingering, slight overstimulation
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✧ AUTHOR'S NOTE: okay, so this is NOT price of fame chapter two, nor is it the seokjin fic that i’ve been teasing for weeks. this is instead a secret third thing, inspired by my own post that has been living rent free in my brain for the past couple of days. i promise POF2 and the seokjin fic are both coming, but i had to get this out before i lost my damn mind. not beta read, so feel free to inform me of any mistakes i missed. P.S. i know the header isn’t debut yoongi, don’t fucking @ me about it!! i had this photo on hand ):
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✧ WORDCOUNT: 2.2k words
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Yoongi was an extremely effective tutor, until he wasn’t.
As it turns out, dating the person who is singlehandedly responsible for bringing up your Fundamentals of Music Theory grade isn’t the smartest move in the world. 
Things were so much easier when you—wrongfully—assumed he was an asshole. At least then, the arrangement was clear: you met him in the library, tried not to get annoyed at what a know-it-all he seemed to be for an hour, and then went back to your dorm with a slightly easier method of memorizing the circle of fifths under your belt. It went on like that for weeks. Quick and effective, mostly painless.
But then, when awkward small talk developed into genuine interest, you got to know him.
You learned that the reason he never takes notes in class is because he doesn’t have to. He taught himself all of the basics of music theory years ago, could’ve tested out and moved on to a more advanced class, but he wanted an easy A in his course load. You learned that he’s a classical piano major. He likes it just fine, but it’s really a means to an end. You learned that he writes his own raps, performs them at underground shows with a group of friends some weekends, that that’s what he really wants to do. You learned that he’s not an asshole and he’s just shy, that he’s been working up the courage to ask you out all semester.
You learned even more about him on your first date.
Such as: he’s the self-proclaimed master of grilling meat, and he’ll load up your plate for you before he even thinks of feeding himself. He may act like he’s not interested in going to the noraebang, but with just the slightest bit of insistence from you he’ll fold like a piece of paper. He thinks it’s cute when you snatch his snapback right off of his head and put it on your own. Even cuter when you fumble through a verse of Epik High’s ‘Love Love Love,’ squealing happily when he joins in. 
And: he kisses like he’s got something to prove. Knows all the right ways to use his tongue. Makes a low noise in the back of his throat when you do something he likes. Isn’t the slightest bit shy about pulling you into his lap, nor about slipping his hand into your panties right there, Epik High forgotten in favor of making you cum around his skilled fingers. 
So. Yeah.
Yoongi is no longer an effective tutor, because instead he is a fucking distraction.
You’re supposed to be studying. You had been studying, both of you putting up a valiant effort for a full hour and a half. But just as you’d gotten a firm grasp on the seven musical modes—Ionian, Dorian, Phrygian, Lydian, Mixolydian, Aeolian, Locrian—-Yoongi was whining, insisting on taking a break. You tried to put up a fight, but you’re especially weak when Yoongi gets all sulky, soft pink lips pulled into a pout.
Notecards tossed aside, your fifteen minute study break quickly devolves into half an hour of making out on Yoongi’s bed. As soft music filters into his dorm room from his laptop, you lose track of time with his tongue sliding against yours, the occasional sting of his teeth on your bottom lip because he knows you like it. When you feel his erection pressed against your hip it quickly becomes very clear that you’re both done studying for the time being.
The way Yoongi kisses you never fails to make you crazy. His lips on yours are gentle but commanding at the same time, his hands in your hair holding your head exactly where he wants it as he licks into your mouth like he owns it. When he pulls away, you barely have a chance to catch your breath before he’s trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses down your neck. Your hips rock up against his, desperate for friction. 
“Baby,” Yoongi murmurs against your skin. His hands slide down from your hair to gently tug at the waistband of your jeans, an index finger circling teasingly around the button. “Wanna eat you out. You want that?”
“Yeah,” you breathe, gasping when he nips at the underside of your jaw. Your voice is high, needy, foreign to your own ears. He’s good at that—at pulling sounds out of you that you didn’t know you could make.
He wastes no time in peeling your jeans down your legs, tossing them off the bed and out of his way. Yoongi likes to have as much space as possible when he eats you out, you’ve learned. He likes to take his time, spread you out as much as he can on his shitty dorm-provided twin size mattress. Just because he can make you cum in record time—and he can—doesn’t mean he likes to. Not when he’d much rather drag it out, savor you in every imaginable way until you can’t take it anymore. 
You know you’re in for it when he doesn’t take your panties off right away. Instead, when he settles between your thighs, all he does is look for a moment, his gaze laser-focused on the growing wetness seeping through the cotton. 
It lasts long enough that you start to squirm, his eyes flicking up to meet yours at the sudden movement.
“A-are you…?” you start, but you trail off, suddenly feeling way too fucking shy for something you’ve done with him more times than you can count at this point. 
“Yeah,” he hums, looking up at you with an amused smirk. “Yeah, I’m getting to it, sweetness. I just wanted to look at you for a second. Is that okay?”
You shiver, swallowing thickly as you nod.
“You sure?” he teases, pressing a soft kiss to the inside of your thigh, so close to where you want him. “You don’t have anywhere better to be?”
“Shut up, Yoongi,” you complain, sitting up for a moment to flick him on the forehead.
“Yah, so disrespectful,” he admonishes with a bite right where he’d just kissed. “I’m just playing. I know you don’t wanna be anywhere else.”
Your eyes narrow at him. “I don’t,” you agree, suspicious. He’s up to something.
“No, you don’t,” Yoongi hums knowingly, holding your gaze as he presses a kiss right to your clit. It makes your breath hitch, even with your panties subduing the feeling. “Because you love the way I eat this pussy, don’t you, baby?”
The answer is yes, of course. Yoongi always makes you feel so good no matter what he’s doing, but eating you out is definitely where he excels. But something about how cocky he’s being makes something stir inside of you—-makes you feel a little bold, a little mean. 
“When you actually get around to it, yeah.”
Yoongi chuckles darkly, snapping the waistband of your panties against your hip. When he lifts his head his eyes are all pupil. “It’s like that, huh?” he asks, his tongue running over his teeth.
“Maybe,” you say, goading.
He clicks his tongue, dipping down to lick a broad stripe over your pussy without any warning. When he reaches your clothed clit, he wraps his lips around it and sucks hard, tearing a surprised moan from you.
“F-fuck!” Your fingers tangle in his hair, desperate for something to hold on to, but the overwhelming pleasure is gone as quickly as it came.
“Such a brat,” Yoongi mumbles, sinking his teeth into the softness of your inner thigh again, harder this time. “Just wanted to take my time, treat you nice. But if you want it like this, fine.”
Mercifully, his fingers hook into the waistband of your panties. He roughly drags them down your legs until they’re thrown onto the floor, out of sight just like your jeans.
You gasp when his fingers instantly slide over your slippery cunt, making you gasp. “You get this wet just from pissing me off?” he scoffs, and you shake your head. 
“N-no,” you whimper.
“No?” Yoongi asks, tilting his head at you with a smirk. You feel like you’re going to die when his fingers find your clit, rubbing in punishing little circles. “Tell me what gets you this wet, then, baby.”
“You!” you moan. It feels embarrassingly fast, but you’re close. You’re gonna cum before he even gets his mouth on you properly. Maybe that’s his goal. “You, fuck, Yoongi.”
“That’s right,” he purrs. “You gonna cum already, pretty girl? Before I even get to taste you?”
Oh, he knows exactly what he’s doing. Motherfucker. 
You wouldn’t be able to protest even if you wanted to, your brain already succumbing to the pleasant buzz of your impending orgasm. All you can do is squirm and rock up against Yoongi’s fingertips, completely at his mercy.
“That’s okay,” Yoongi continues, unbothered as you shake and moan in front of him. “I know you can give me another one. Go ahead, sweetness. Cum for me.”
Your release tears through you, sudden and intense and all-consuming. You’re sure there are words coming out of your mouth, but between the heat spreading through your body and the static buzzing in your ears, you honestly have no idea what they could be. Yoongi’s fingers keep rubbing at your abused clit until you’re trembling, gasping for breath between moans.
“Filthy girl,” he hums. Whatever you said must’ve been good, because he sounds almost proud of you as he runs his hands over your thighs. “You gonna let me take my time now?”
“Yes,” you gasp, still reeling from your orgasm. Yoongi taking his time is exactly what you need right now, or else you’ll go into complete overdrive. Absently, you think that was his plan all along, but that thought melts away as soon as Yoongi dips down and delves his tongue into your cunt, slow and thorough. 
Your brain? Empty. Brain so fucking empty.
“Shit,” he groans against you, his voice so low and gravelly you can feel the vibration of his words against your pussy. “You always taste so fucking good after you cum for me.”
You thread your fingers through his hair again, moaning long and low as he spreads you apart with his thumbs and dives back in. His nose nudges just slightly against your clit as he licks into you, the barely-there contact making your eyes roll back in your head.
“Yoongiiii,” you moan, earning an appreciative moan from him as he dips his tongue into your entrance.
Your first orgasm took you by surprise, but you can tell already that this one is going to be a slow burn, tendrils of heat that never really got a chance to fade spreading through your body, adagio.
As promised, Yoongi takes his sweet time. He sets an agonizing rhythm: licking into you, dragging his tongue up your pussy, gently sucking your clit into his mouth, over and over again until you’re practically a puddle on his mattress.
“Feels so fuckin’ good,” you mewl, your thighs shaking around his head. You’d blush at the sounds he’s producing between your legs, slurping and sucking at you, if you weren’t so fucked out. Instead, all it does is turn you on even more, make you even wetter for him. 
Yoongi pulls back, huffing a laugh through his nose. “I know, baby,” he murmurs soothingly. “You ready to cum again?”
Wordlessly, you nod, squeezing your eyes shut. Two fingers tease at your entrance, getting nice and wet before Yoongi slides them in, and just like that, you’re ready to burst.
“Nnngh—fuck, ‘m so fucking close,” you slur, grasping at his hair as he pumps his fingers into you.
“Give it to me,” he says, before sucking your clit into his mouth again and making stars burst behind your eyelids.
His fingers curl just right, and then you’re moaning brokenly, bucking up against his fingers and mouth as you cum again.
It feels like it lasts forever. Yoongi moans around your clit as you clench around his fingers, squeezing tight tight tight as heat crashes over you in waves. You feel his fingers withdraw, and then his tongue is fucking into you again, licking every last drop he’s earned from you.
He only breaks away when you’re pushing at his head, overstimulated and spent.
“God, you’re so sexy,” he rumbles, climbing up the bed so he’s on top of you, bracing himself on his elbows. He’s one to talk. He always looks so good like this—swollen lips and dark eyes, the bottom half of his face slick from eating you out so fucking well. “You can just cum and cum for me, can’t you?”
“You are insane,” you breathe, grasping at the strings of his sweatshirt to pull him in for a kiss, tasting yourself on his lips. 
Yoongi chuckles, pulling away just to press his forehead against yours. “You like it,” he says.
“I like you,” you correct, closing your eyes. “Even though I’m going to fail my final because of you.”
That earns a real laugh from Yoongi, his nose scrunching. “You’re not gonna fail.”
“I am,” you say, nodding sagely. “But it’ll be worth it.”
“That so?” He presses another kiss to your lips, nuzzling his nose against yours.
“Mhmm,” you hum. “Besides, I’ll just find a better tutor next semester when I have to retake.”
That earns you a sharp jab of Yoongi’s fingers to your side, but he’s got one of those gummy smiles on his face as you squeal under him, so no harm done.
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bloomzone · 2 months ago
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ALRIGHT, let’s keep it REAL for a second. You know the drill—you're on your phone, thinking, "I'll just scroll for a minute," but then one TikTok turns into 20, and before you know it, you’ve wasted an hour or two, and your to-do list is still staring at you, untouched. We’ve all been there. You didn’t even mean to procrastinate, but somehow, scrolling has become your default LIKE UR LIFE DEPENDS ON IT. Now you’re sitting there, realizing you’ve literally accomplished nothing, and you’re feeling the pressure creeping up. The guilt sets in, and suddenly the task seems way bigger than it actually is. It’s like time got stolen from you, but the problem is, you let it happen. And that’s okay—we’ve all been there, but let’s talk about how we can stop this cycle and get back on track.So how do we actually break this HABIT and get YOUR SHIT TOGETHER ? First, time-blocking is a solid strategy. HEAR ME OUT Don’t think you need to study for hours straight. Start small—set a timer for 20-30 minutes where you focus only on your homework, then take a 5-10 minute break. You’ll be surprised how much you can get done in those short bursts, and the breaks will keep you from feeling burned out. NEEEXT get your phone out of your face SERIOUSLY, put THAT SHIT it in another room or at least out of reach while you’re working the temptation to check social media is too strong, and if you don’t see it, you won’t even remember it’s there. Also, let’s be honest, a lot of us scroll because we’re avoiding something. So, try this: break your tasks into super small chunks. Instead of saying “I need to finish this whole chapter,” say “I’ll do the first page, then the next,” and slowly build from there. Turn off notifications, too. If you know a text or Instagram notification is going to pull you away from your work, MUTE THAT SHIT ! Your friends and memes can wait. And finally, remember YOUR FUCKING DREAMS UR GOAAALS LIKE GUUURL U WANT TO BE A RICH WORK FOR IIIIT ..When you're tempted to procrastinate, think about why you're putting in the work. Whether it’s to feel less stressed or to actually enjoy your weekends because you’ve gotten stuff done, reminding yourself of your end goal helps you push through the urge to scroll. So yeah, it’s not about being perfect—just about taking small steps every day. You don’t need to be working 24/7, but get focused when you need to, and trust me, you’ll see the difference !
© bᥣoom >⁠.⁠<
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kamiversee · 2 months ago
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˗ˏˋ My Love Note ´ˎ˗
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10 | I know that's
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❧ Synopsis | In which Choso Kamo, your asshole of a best friend, starts to change after you get involved with a rather cheeky cashier, Gojo Satoru.
❧ Content | language, tension, flirting, mention of drugs & alcohol consumption, sexual tension, teasing, taunting, etc.
❧ Word Count | 7.2k (phew.)
❧ Pairings | Choso Kamo x f!reader & Gojo Satoru x f!reader.
| Chapters mlist |
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——Back in your room, you wasted no time calling Gojo back. That whole… thing with Choso is something you’ll save your worrying for another day. As of right now, Gojo should be your main focus since you have a Halloween party to attend with him tonight.
Laying stomach first across your surprisingly neatly made bed, your feet dance back and forth in the air as you hold your cellphone to your ear and listen to Gojo ramble to you about his day. He didn’t address the phone hanging up at all or the way he definitely heard Choso’s voice before the line disconnected earlier—he just got on the phone, asked if you were alright, and then when back to what he’d been telling you before.
Which brings a nice smile to your face. It’s refreshing to have someone like Gojo to talk to, honestly. Not only do you really enjoy conversing with him or listening to him talk but, you also like how he didn’t question you like crazy. That simple act alone took some weight off of your shoulders because it meant you didn’t have to lie again. God knows you hate lying to the guy. 
But you’re not gonna tell him the truth either because the truth is terrible. How do you even being to explain to your crush that you almost fucked your best friend again in the short amount of time you were off of the phone with him?
“So,” Gojo continues, clearing his throat a bit between words. “Aside from tonight’s party, you don’t have any plans for today, right?”
Your head tilts further against the phone as you release a gentle sigh, “To my knowledge, no I don’t have any other plans. Why?”
He yawns softly, “Because, that gives us enough time to go last-minute costume shopping, remember?”
Chuckling into the phone, your lips curve into a smile. “Don’t you have work?” You ask.
You can’t see it of course but, Gojo rolls his eyes at that, “I mean, yeah… But I’m sure my boss won’t mind if I close up a bit early. It’s Halloween.”
“If you say so,” You comment. “I’m assuming you want me to meet you at the cafe in a few hours then?”
“Yup,” Gojo hums with a sassy lil pop of the ‘p’ at the end there. “Til’ then, I’ll have to drown myself in work. My break’s about to be over.”
You click your tongue and frown a bit, “Aw, well hopefully time flies by fast.”
“Yeah, hopefully.”
· ───────── · ꨄ · ───────── ·
Once off of the phone with Gojo, you spend your day holing yourself up in your bedroom in an honest attempt of avoiding Choso. Luckily for you, at no point did he come knocking on your door trying to gain a bit of your attention. This provided you with a rather relaxing morning and afternoon of bedrotting.
Not the most productive thing to do but, hey, at least time flew by pretty fast. After lazying around for hours waiting for the right time, you ended up rolling out of bed and throwing on something cozy to go out in—you’d be changing into a costume in an hour so there was no point in dressing up too cute or anything. 
You end up exiting you apartment wearing something easy to get in and out of so that when you do find your costume, and in the event that it later gets uncomfortable, you have something else to throw back on. 
Taking a walk all the way throughout your campus just to reach that cute lil’ cafe you’ve grown to love and adore, you felt the season of fall brushing all against your skin as you walked. It’s as if that hectic morning of yours never even took place with how peaceful this part of your day was. For just a moment, it was only you and your thoughts. No horny Choso humping against you like a dog in heat, no anxiety induced thoughts screaming at you everytime Gojo talks to you… just, tranquility.
And when you finally arrive at the designated coffeehouse you’ve been to time and time again, a smile is painted across your face before you even push past the front doors. The sun is making it’s set so the sky is all pretty with different hues of oranges and reds—something you took a few pictures of on your way here.
Grabbing a hold of the warm metal door handles, you give it a light push and that homey smell of coffee rushes into your nose. A smell in which you’ve grown quite fond of given what follows shortly after…
No one is inside except for Gojo so the smile on your face merely brightens as you meet eyes with him. Almost like a damn puppy, his entire demeanor lightens up at your presence, pretty dimples peaking out in his cheeks as he reciprocates your happy expression.
You’re approaching the counter and he’s making his way around it, all too quick to embrace you by wrapping his muscular arms around your waist and pulling you in close. Gojo lets out a long sigh, “Been’ waiting all day to do this, y’know.” He tells you, voice muffled slightly with the way his face slowly barries itself into the crook of your neck.
You hug him back with the same amount of passion he’d approached you with and then smile. “Do what? Hug me?” Your voice is gentle against his ears and unbeknownst to you, his heart feels all weird in his chest. Then there’s these flutters your feel in your stomach at how good he smells and how stupidly clingy he seems to be today.
It’s this strange mix of coffee beans and his cologne that seeps into your nose now, making you hug him just a bit tighter to simmer into the scent some more. He smells like a hard working man and you simply love that for whatever reason. You suppose that thing people say about a man in uniform is true after all…
“Yeah,” Gojo soon answers your question whilst lifting his face from your neck and meeting your eyes again. His gaze stays put for barely even a second before he’s cracking a smirk and leaning in to kiss you. 
A brief grin ghosts your lips as he kisses you. Your arms firmly wrap around his neck and you push up on your toes a bit to deepen the connection of your mouths. Gojo’s lips feel like comfort against your own, almost as if you were ice and he the sun—his every touch melting you in his hands. You let out a small hum in between the kiss as he slots his lips against yours further, steadily drawing your bottom lip into his mouth and sucking on it.
His tongue dances against the plump skin for only a moment before he pries himself away and you both ease out a small breath of air. “And that,” Gojo says, “I swear you’re on my mind all day.”
Such a soft admission spoken to you so suddenly makes you gulp. “Am I now?” You whisper, noticing how he’s leaning back in for another kiss already.
Gojo wets his lips and smiles. “Yeah,” He utters back just as softly, skin brushing over yours, and eyes narrowing, “Jus’ can’t get enough of you.” Is the last thing he tells you before he’s ridding himself of all the space between you two again.
No one else is in the establishment, so you kiss for a hot minute. It’s soft at first, like always, but then it gradually heats up. His hands move to your waist and his head tilts further while his tongue makes its journey into the wet caverns of your mouth. Groaning at the sweet taste resting there, Gojo unconsciously steps forward with you. You naturally follow his lead and he ends up kissing you until your lower back meets the counter.
Not sparing you the chance to break the kiss, Gojo bends down a little and swiftly lifts you up onto the counter—his lips never once leaving yours. He feels starved as he makes out with you right in the middle of where he works. Hushing out a simple, “Taste s’sweet,” In between your lips.
You mutter his name somewhere throughout the kissing and one of your hands ends up on his chest, very faintly pushing him. As the kiss is severed, Gojo has this needy expression all over his face and his cheeks are reddened. He’s so pretty that it genuinely hurts to look at. It almost isn’t fair.
“Don’t we have some shopping to do?” You remind the man in a slightly breathless tone. 
Gojo bats his lashes at you almost innocently. “Yeahh, but we have time, don’t we?” As the words roll off of his tongue, his lips are curving into that taunting little smile again, and then his dimples are making yet another appearance.
His hands, which are so stupidly soft, trace the outskirts of your thighs upon the counter. Those almost beryl-blue eyes of his scan over your face, taking in every inch and curve, studying you, and getting mesmerized by you. If you looked way too closely into it all, you’d almost asume the guy was in lo—
You clear your own throat to cut that thought off. “No, it’s Halloween, silly.” You remind him with a smile, glancing down to your hands on his chest and moving your fingertips to trace what you can feel beneath his clothes. “There’s barely gonna be costumes as is, the later we go, the less there’ll be.”
Gojo sighs while he thinks for a moment. His bottom lip protrudes as he pouts and you can’t help the way you chuckle at that. “S’not funny. I really did miss you,” He tells you again, tipping his head down into your neck and pressing his lips against your skin, “But you’re right, we probably should head out now.” He’s agreeing with you with his words but the way he’s planting these soft pecks against your neck is saying something else entirely.
His kisses tickle and you end up holding onto his shirt a bit and letting out a giggle, “Satoru,” You call out once, receiving no sign of him stopping his ticklish kisses. Then you squirm and he smiles against you. “‘Toru,” You say, to which his teeth graze you.
“Such a tease,” Gojo simmered into your skin hotly. “Callin’ me that nickname like you don’t know what it does t’me…”
Full on smiling now, you angle your head to look at him and he pulls away from your neck to meet that incoming gaze. His pupils seem to expand ever so slightly as they’re met with yours but, you may have imagined that. “It does something to you?” You ask innocently as you push forward to slide off of the counter, “I had no idea…!”
That cheery faux innocence in your tone makes Gojo’s smile expand before his eyes roll. He watches the way you step aside and straighten up your clothes before sending him one last glance. Something about you really keeps his mind at this mushy state because every time his eyes lock with yours it’s like he can’t form a single thought in his brain that doesn’t involve you.
Staring, letting a small moment of the eye contact pass by, Gojo scoffs softly. “Riight, sure you didn’t.” He replies to your last comment sarcastically.
After that brief conversation, which could’ve easily progressed into something more if you didn’t stop him, you assist Gojo in cleaning up the cafe so he can leave with you. All you had to do was wipe a few tables off and then you watched him sweep and mop. It seemed like not many people had come in today given the state of the kitchen and how clean it was (you’d picked up on how messy it gets when Gojo is swamped with customers a while back).
Small talk is held almost the entire time up until he finally closes up and walks you to his car. It’s then that silence is welcomed back into your space and even as you walk with him, you still feel this comforting air wrapping around you. Especially when Gojo throws an arm over your shoulder and soon opens his car door for you. He’s so strangely perfect that you can’t help the way you feel for him.
Even throughout the car ride to… the nearest costume shop? He plays a bunch of Halloween songs and throughout Micheal Jackson’s ‘Thriller’, you notice that even Gojo’s singing is perfect. Hence why by the time you two make it to your destination your cheeks hurt from how hard you’d been smiling and you can hardly remember the last time a guy, aside from Choso, has made you laugh this much.
The shop he takes you to is rather… pricey, you note as the two of you stroll through together. And yeah, most of the shelves are cleared off and whatever’s left isn’t anything super creative. Gojo guides you to the back of the store though and you swear he had this all planned out in his head with the way he leads you straight to a particularly cute couples costume. 
“Y’know,” You start off, picking up the clearly designated costume that stands out in contrast to the other last-minute options left on the surrounding shelves. “If you wanted us to wear matching costumes, you could’ve jus’ said something.” 
When you glance back to Gojo, you notice the way he’s got a hand scratching the back of his neck and is looking off to the side nonchalauntly. “I have no idea what you’re talkin’ about, sweets…” He hums, that faint pigment of pink coating his cheeks yet again.
You snort, “Really? So how is it that you’ve led me all the way back here and straight to the only decent costumes left in this store?” As you speak, you lift the two costume packages up and hold them out to showcase them to him. “Not to mention, they just so happen to be the only matching ones too.” 
Gojo redirects his eyes to the items in your hand and he grins innocently. “This is a coincidence, really.” He chuckles, “I mean why would I—“ He stops himself mid-sentence at the look you’re giving him and just ends up sighing in defeat. “Okay, okay, fine,” His hands went up, “Ya’ caught me.”
You smile, “Mhm, I know. Now, are you gonna go ahead ‘n ask me to match with you orr…?”
His shoulders sink a bit, “Do I have tooo? You’re already holding the costumes, are you really gonna make me ask—“
“Yep,” You hum in response with a mocking pop of the ‘p’.
Gojo scoffs playfully. “Fine.” He starts, stepping closer to you, “Do you wanna be the cowgirl to my cowboy and y’know, ride throughout this Halloween night with me?”
There’s half a beat of silence that passes after the cheesiness that just left his lips before you burst out laughing. “You’re so corny, oh my God.” You snicker out in an airy tone.
He joins your giggling with his own and then tips his head to the side, “So is that a yes orrrr…?”
Rolling your eyes, you nod. “Yeah, I’ll be the cowgirl to your cowboy tonight, Satoru.” Then you hand him his designated costume and brush past him.
Gojo clenches his fist and brings it down to himself in celebration, whispering a little, “Yess.” To himself childishly while you make your way to the nearby dressing room.
There were other last minute costumes that’d caught your eye on your way to the back of the store but, you think you’re pretty content with the cowgirl costume you end up putting on. Sure, you passed the classics like witches, cheerleaders, vampires, ghosts, etc… but this costume fits you so well that it’s almost as if it were made for you.
It fits your body almost like a leather glove but without being too uncomfortable or tight. It’s a top and bottom set—mostly consisting of black and an accenting hint of red here and there. 
Once you get it on, your body is quickly flattered by the fabric. The top is long sleeved, cropped up high, and has a knot that ties right in the lower center of your chest with a vest that has these sparkly red stars on it. Then there’s the sorry excuse for shorts accompanying the top, that’s decorated with this semi-chunky belt with matching sparkly red stars. Lastly were the boots and hat, both black with hints of red, that completed the look.
And once you got a glance of yourself in the nearby mirror, you were gagged by how good you look. You spun around to get a full view of yourself, noticing the hug that the shorts have on your ass, shaping you perfectly. Hell, you almost never wanna take this damn thing off. And contrastingly enough, part of you is a bit self-conscious to actually go out like this.
It’s not until you take a deep breath and step out of the dressing room that your confidence returns to you with the wolf-whistle you recieve from Gojo. Your eyes had been somewhere on the floor until you heard the sound he let out, lifting your gaze to find him slouching back against some chair he managed to find and pull up. He’s got his legs all spread like some slut (not that you’d ever say this aloud, of course) and you don’t think there’s a single thought of innocence in your head as you take in the sight of him.
His costume is matching yours but, there’s a lot less skin showing, obviously. The shirt he has on is rolled up to his elbows and he’s got a teasing amount of his chest revealed—matching you with that low v-cut top you have, except his shirt is just a bunch of buttons undone.
His lower half is your typical pair of cowboy pants, all snug against his thighs, fabric straining over his muscles, and—
“Eyes up here sweets’,” Gojo says with a snap of his fingers. You flinch and revert your gaze to his face, gulping at the way he’d caught your gaze trailing elsewhere. “There she is,” He purrs, motioning with two fingers for you to walk toward him, “C’mere. Lemme get a better look at’cha.”
You almost awkwardly shuffle over to him, shyly covering your exposed midsection and trying to calm the pounding of your heart with each step you take. “Satoru, d-don’t you think this is a bit…” You hate how nervous you are right now, as if he hasn’t seen you with less clothes before.
Once you find yourself standing right in between his legs, he peers up at you with that ridiculously handsome smile of his. “A bit what?” Gojo hushes out as he reaches forward and moves your arms out the way to expose all of you to his greedy eyes. “I think you look perfect, like always.” He practically whispers, leaning forward and planting an all too affectionate kiss onto your stomach.
You flinch again and instinctively move your hand to his shoulder to push him back a bit, “Thank you but, I feel exposed.”
He acts as though you shoved him back, slumping into the chair like he was before and giving you this lovestruck expression as he meets your eyes. “S’okay,” Gojo tells you, “I’m sure there’ll be a lot more people wearing a lot less tonight so, you’ll feel more comfortable once we’re there.”
You give him a little nod in response and he moves his hands to trace your hips, feeling the tight fabric of your shorts beneath his fingertips and taking a deep breath. 
“And if not,” He moves to stand up and you’re reminded of the height difference between you two all over again. “I’ll give you my jacket or something, okay?”
Nodding again, you feel so safe beneath his gaze—almost like nothing else really matters when you’re around him. 
Once that’s all been settled, you and Gojo leave the costume shop. You forget to question him about how the hell you two were able to leave without paying for anything but, the rest of the night takes over all those questions you love asking him so much.
· ───────── · ꨄ · ───────── ·
Before you even know it, you’re pulling up to this huge house, distant thumping sounds of music and giggles heard throughout the air as Gojo parks his car not too far off. There’s vehicles placed all down the street, people all over the front yard, some just hanging out and others taking pictures or even making out.
It’s been a while since you last attended a party but, the sight of multiple skimpy outfits brings you a sense of comfort as soon as you step out of the car. The music from the house is so loud that you can’t even make out what song is playing right now due to the bass. Even so, Gojo quickly approaches your side and rightfully places his arm over your shoulder like he did earlier, keeping you nice and close to him while the two of you make way for the entrance.
The atmosphere is overly lively. You can hear and see people laughing, talking, dancing, drinking, etc. The music vibrates off of the house walls as you and Gojo walk in, shuffling past hella people just to make it fully inside. The house-, mansion, really, is packed with semi-drunk college students and you’re quickly reminded why you don’t surround yourself with party goers almost every weekend like you used to. 
There’s definitely heads turning as you and Gojo navigate through the crowd of people but, you can’t really tell if that’s because of him or you.
You would’ve loved to say that Gojo was the most attractive man there but… it’s really hard to say that when you’re quickly stopped by some tall polished blonde man wearing a priest costume. Ignoring the way Gojo’s got an arm around your shoulder entirely, this guy grins at you kindly and he’s got the prettiest honey brown eyes taking in all of you as he leans toward you to voice a compliment.
“Beautiful costume,” The man says to you simply. From where you and Gojo had made it to, the music wasn’t overwhelming and you could actually talk to someone without yelling or leaning in too close.
Naturally, you smile in thanks and give him a little nod. “Thank you, I like yours as well. You’re a priest, right—“
“Nanami!” Gojo beams beside you, unconsciously telling you the name of the blonde man you were seconds away from making casual conversation with. “The hell are you doin’ here?” He asks in a taunting tone.
Nanami’s face flicks into something tired at the mere sound of Gojo’s voice. “I should be asking you that, Gojo. You’re supposed to be at work right now.” He says sternly.
Gojo chuckles lightly, “Oh don’t be like that, boss.” He says, taking his arm from around you and moving to tap Nanami on his arm, “It’s Halloween!”
Nanami sighs. “Yes, yes, I know. That’s why I’m not upset or anything but, you could’ve sent a text. I’d like to be aware of whether or not my cafe’s closing early.”
It suddenly clicks for you that Nanami owns that beloved cafe you visit practically everyday—something which, getting a good look at his chiseled face, just fits him. Nanami is exactly what you imagined Gojo’s boss looking like, honestly. The only thing surprising you here is the fact that he’s around the same age.
You’re about to say something to insert yourself back into the conversation but you’re interrupted by a familiar voice. “Oh my God, Satoru! You made it!!” Hori says overly cheerful.
By the time you turn your head to spot her, her arms are wrapping around Gojo’s waist and she’s hugging him tightly. Gojo hugs her back with one arm and forces a friendly smile onto his face.
“Hey Hori,” Gojo greets rather plainly. “Are you dressed as a… bunny?” He asks as he looks down at her within his grasp. You couldn’t really see her because of the way she was hugging Gojo but that didn’t bother you too much when Nanami steals your attention away with a light tap.
“I didn’t get your name,” He says to you, having leaned in a bit so that you could hear him clearly.
“Oh,” You chirp before extending a hand out and voicing your name to him. Nanami nods as he shakes your hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Nanami.” You greet officially.
He grins kindheartedly, “The pleasure is all mine, honestly.”
There’s a moment of prolonged handshaking before someone bumps into Nanami’s arm and your hands disconnect. You both look to see who it is and you’re met with this brown haired guy dressed as some kind of criminal (?). Tugging the skimask up off of his face, your eyes are greeted with a very contrasting face. He’s got these big doe-like eyes and his features scream innocence in a way.
“Woah, you’re pretty,” He chuckles, clearly tipsy off of whatever drink seems to be held in his left hand. “Y’Mind if I get your number?”
Your eyes go wide at his straightforwardness and all you do is smile at first. “Uh, I’m actually…” You slowly glance to where Gojo is, only to find that he’s been dragged elsewhere with Hori. You see his a peek of his snowy white hair amid the crowd and your shoulders slump a bit at how quickly he just left your side. Turning back to the brunette male, you nod, “Y’know what, yeah, sure.”
Nanami clears his throat and his phone is held out soon, “Me too actually,” He chimes in.
With that, you're entering your number into the two guy’s phones and then handing their devices back to them. The brunette soon informs you that his name is Ino and the three of you stand there making small talk for a bit.
It’s mildly concerning that Gojo just left you like that but you distract yourself with the two men talking to you at the moment. 
After chatting with them for a bit, they eventually part ways with you and you navigate your way through the sea of party people alone. There’s not a single familiar face throughout the crowd and it’s not until you notice you’re getting stares from people that you start feeling self conscious again. 
You thought that maybe if you made your way to the dance floor and vibed by yourself for a bit, you’d be fine. But, you don’t even make it that far because somewhere throughout your shuffling through people, someone grabs a light hold of your arm and pulls you out of the crowd.
You stumble into step to see who the hell decided to grab you like that. It wasn’t aggressive or anything but it was concerning since you’ve only seen unrecognizable people thus far.
“Finally a familiar face,” The sound of Utahime’s voice hits your ears and she’s turning to face you after pulling you far away enough to talk to you. “Y’know how long I was in that damn crowd looking for literally anyone I knew? I’m so glad I found you.” She says with a sigh.
Your chest feels light as you drink in her wearing a cheerleader costume. “I’m glad you found me too, I was walking around here for maybe ten minutes or so.” You explain.
She rolls her eyes, “I thought you came here with Gojo? Did that asshole ditch you?”
You’re quick to shake your head. “Nono, he didn’t ditch me! I think Hori pulled him off earlier and I was talking with these other guys so we just got separated. Any longer in that crowd and I would’ve called him.”
Utahime pauses for a second while she gathers your words. Then, her expression changes and she smiles at you. “Oh, okay. I was just making sure because Gojo can be a real dickhead sometimes.”
“Think so?” You end up asking. This was the first time you’d heard anything remotely negative about him so, of course your curiosity is piqued.
“Yeah.” She replies, clearly having no intention of going further into an explanation at the moment. Then, with a sigh, she allows her eyes to drop down along your figure. Utahime lets out a small up and her head tilts, “Anyway, you look good—love the costume.” She compliments, her tone light and almost flirtatious.
Though, you could totally be misinterpreting things. “Oh, thank you! I love yours too, it fits you nicely.” Your returned compliment makes her smile and she allows her arms to fold beneath her chest.
“Aww, thanks. I think I—“
“Utahime!!” And there she is again… Hori. Cutting off yet another conversation and spawning into the scene out of seemingly nowhere, dressed as Regina George’s sorry excuse of a bunny from Mean Girls 1 (which is fitting since she’s blonde as well), Hori’s all smiley and her cheeks are lightly flushed. “I was looking for you everywhere. Where’d you run off to?!” She huffs as her arms wrap around Utahime’s singular arm and her head comes to rest on her shoulder.
Utahime says something to respond but all words and sound practically dies out in your ears as a pair of arms wrap around your waist from behind and a fluffy head of hair rests on your left shoulder. Flinching at the sudden contact, you don’t even get the chance to say anything before lips are grazing your ear and a familiar spread of warmth is brushing at your skin.
“Was lookin’ for ya’ everywhere, sweets.” Gojo hushes out into your ear. “God, you smell so good,” His voice lowers and the arms around your waist begin to shift along with his head. The tip of his nose is soon felt burying itself into the crook of your neck and he inhales sharply while his slender fingers smooth over the exposed skin of your waist.
Your body tenses up due to all the sudden touches but, a smile is sparking across your lips before you even realize it. “Thank you, Satoru. And, I was looking for you too… for like, ten minutes actually.” You inform him, earning a gruff little hum in response. “You invited me here ‘n then left me in less than five minutes…”
Gojo grimaces once the mentioning of his departure hits his ears. He sighs into your skin before pressing a small kiss at it, “M’sorry. First Hori pulled me away to find Suguru, and then some other people came pulling me along… I should’ve come back for ya’, my bad.”
You lean back against his touch a bit and your back becomes flush with his chest, “It’s okay, I’m glad you found me.”
“Yeahhh,” He sighs. For a second, you begin to wonder if he’s drunk with how sly his words seem to fall off of his tongue. “To make up for it though.. We could go—“
“Lemme guess, dance?” You cut off, recalling the last party you went to with him and how the same exact thing happened then. He really was a people magnet all around, huh?
Chuckling, Gojo gives your body a small tug and your ass is brought back toward his crotch. “You know it,” He says cheekily as he lifts his head from your neck and then drops his hands to your hips. It’s swift the way he spins you around to face him, your hands soon finding place on his chest and your eyes meeting his pretty blue ones. After which, he allows his hands to sneak behind you and grab a nice handful of your ass within his palm.
Ultimately, you were left looking up at him all surprised and confused. Gojo is touchy, sure. He always has been but… he doesn’t normally touch you so intimately out in the open like this. It was different. Not that you minded it but, it left you to wonder who or what he wanted to showcase these touches off to…
His cheeks were similarly flushed to how Hori’s were when you last looked at her, again leading you to wonder if he’d dranken anything. “Satoru,” You call out gently, moving your hands to cup his cheek and lull his expression a bit closer to your own for better study. “Have you been drinking?”
Gojo’s eyes take a second to actually focus on you, which silently tells you all you need to know. “Juuuust a lil’, yeah.” He admits to you.
To which you frown, “You went off and drank without me too? Wowww.” Your voice is clearly dramatic but Gojo seems to pout anyway.
Leaning in to you, he rests his forehead against yours and his arms circulate your waist again as he hugs you properly. “I jus’ had like, one cup of somethin’.” Gojo explains, his voice softening whilst his lashes bat in an innocent manner.
You stare at him. “One cup and you’re tipsy already?” You say, releasing a soft fit of laughter.
Gojo scrunches up his face a bit and you feel like it’s just you and him in the room right now, despite sounds of people laughing and talking all loud surrounding the two of you. “Mhmm. I don’t drink too often ‘cause I can't really handle alcohol too well,” He explains to you with a slight clearing of his throat.
The distant sound of Tory Lanez’s ‘The Color Violet’ can be heard and it makes Gojo lift his head and glance back toward where most people are dancing and the music is at its loudest.
Your eyes remain up on the man, “Should I be worried?”
He looks at you again and smiles, his brows tweezing together. “What? No. I’ve been told I get clingy when I’m drunk but aside from that, I’ve never done anything… stupid, I guess.” You hum in acknowledgement and Gojo starts backing away, tugging you along with him before he motions toward the dance floor. “Now c’mon, I owe you a dance, don’t I?”
It takes you a second or two to allow your body to be pulled properly with him but after that, your hand ends up in his and he soon pulls you through the crowd of people. 
· ───────── · ꨄ · ───────── ·
The music gradually gets louder and louder until it consumes the entirety of your senses. You could feel the vibrations of the bass within each step you took, the music blurred throughout your ears, and all the dancing and lingering smell of marijuana and alcohol truly gave you that party atmosphere you’d forgotten about over the years. Before you even realize it, Gojo’s got you somewhere lost amid groups and groups of people dancing, trailing you closest to him using the grasp he had on your hand until you were able to dance right with him.
In contrast to dancing at that gala with him, you feel a lot more at ease here (surprisingly). Instead of gentle sways and intimate slow dancing, it’s more of sensual rolling of bodies against one another and long lasting glances all up and down your body that make you feel warmer than you should be. 
Gojo’s got his hands everywhere with little care as to who sees what. From your hips, following their structure and the way you sway them around and against him, to your waist, twirling you around so that your back is facing him one moment and then vice versa so he can gather all of your neon illuminated features.
His favorite bit of the dancing is very obviously when your back is facing him and you dance against him. It’s in the smooth rock of your hips against him that he gets lost in, eyes all casted downward on your lower half, watching the way you dance back against him. One moment he’s smiling and the next he’s genuinely dazed by you. Then again, it could’ve been the alcohol in his system that made all his senses feel heightened like that.
Gojo felt like he was high simply from dancing with you. So much so that at some point he had to ask you if he could go sit down for a bit because you were uh… causing a bit of stiffening to stir up in between his legs. Part of you wanted to tease him about how just a bit of grinding back on him had turned him on but, another part of you was ready to loosen up a bit and partake in some drinking of your own.
Nothing crazy of course but, you felt like you would be a little stiff in the crowd without Gojo by your side and if he wanted to go sit down but you wanted to continue dancing, you’d have to get some alcohol in you to lessen the tension in your body. As such, a small conversation between you and Gojo took place and he ended up pointing you toward the kitchen before letting you know he wouldn’t be too far off.
The house was huge but with the directions he gave you, you figured you’d be fine.
And honestly? You were fine navigating through people on your own this time. But just in case, Gojo did take it a step further and message you the same thing he’d told you (just in case you didn’t hear him perfectly enough over the music). 
How considerate of him. You thought to yourself as you made your way down a hallway and toward the far off kitchen.
Upon entering the space, you spot a few people making their own drinks, smoking, or talking with a friend but ultimately it’s a lot more laid back in comparison to the dance floor you’d previously been on. This allows you a moment to breathe, exhaling softly as you make way for the first stack of red plastic cups you find.
As you find a decent space on the counter to prepare your stuff, you begin to replay the small events from this party in your head. Smiling, you realize how wonderful everything’s been going for you thus far. You met two guys who were really nice, one of whom seemed to be acquainted with Gojo, Utahime was really friendly with you, and then dancing with Gojo just felt… nice. It was almost like things had gone too good for you tonight. Well, safe for Hori repeatedly interrupting something for you and failing to even say hi to you.
It’s not like you were expecting her to but, it would’ve been nice. She was standing right in front of you. Twice.
But hey, maybe she didn’t even remember you and the small convo you had with her. After all, this is her party and she clearly knows a lot of people so there’s probably a million and one things occupying that brain of hers. Speaking of which, that small conversation you had with her reminds you… didn’t you invite—
“How much for a ride, princess?” Choso’s voice suddenly hits your ears and you practically flinch out of your skin.
Your elbow instinctively shoots back and you nudge him right in his stomach with a loud yelp, “Jesus-, fuck, Choso!” You spew out before clasping your hands over your mouth in response to the sound of surprise you’d let out. “Scared the hell outta’ me.”
He lets out a laugh in between some sort of cough, probably one provoked from your strike against him just now. Slowly, his coughing fades into a full on chuckle and you move your eyes to gather the sight of him behind you. He’s wearing red and black, his hair tied up into two messy pigtails using these red hair ties, and—holy shit. Choso’s dressed up as Garu from Pucca. 
The realization makes you gasp dramatically as you turn around to face him fully. “Oh my God? Are you… Is that a Garu costume?!” You exclaim, moving your hands to his shirt and tugging him a bit close as you study the big red heart imprinted on the center of it.
Choso finally clears his throat and drops his eyes down to the way you’re pinching the hem of his shirt in between your fingers, “Uh, obviously?” He remarks sassily before lifting his gaze to your costume and cocking his head to the side. “And what are you supposed to be? A cowgirl?”
“Obviously,” You say mockingly. “Didn’t you just ask me how much for a ride like twenty seconds ago??”
His red gloved hand moves to brush your touch off of his shirt and then he smirks. “Yeah, ‘n you didn’t even answer, jus’ gave me a mean nudge to the gut…”
“You scared me!” You huff out to him.
Choso’s eyes settle firmly on the cleavage of your tits, not making any sort of attempt to avert his gaze as he talks to you, “I know.” His tone makes it seem as though he did that on purpose. “But I had to get back at you somehow. Who the hell invites their friend to a party and then makes no attempt to see if they’re still coming or if they even made it?”
Oh damn. You did kinda forget about him as soon as you got around Gojo… You don’t think Choso’s even crossed your mind again since earlier that morning. “Ohh uhm, sorry about that.” You say, a slight awkwardness drafting by mere seconds afterwards.
Choso gives you this loose nod of his head before stepping past you. “Yeah uhuh,” He hums casually whilst taking two of those red cups out from their stack. “Too distracted dancin’ with your partner to think about me, right?”
Your eyes follow him as he moves and you watch the way he fixes two drinks—one of them clearly for you. “He… He’s not my partner, Cho. I just—“
“No? But you two are matching,” He points out as he interrupts your next sentence. “Cowboy and Cowgirl too, how cute,” Then, Choso’s turning his head to look at you with this expression you can’t quite read as the next words leave his lips lowly. “Wonder if you’ll ride him the same way you did me.”
“What—“
He scoffs, “Yeah, y’gonna show him all the things you showed me?” He presses even further, taking a step away from preparing those drinks and toward you. Your body seems to not want to listen to you because you remain still and don’t even try to step back. Choso leans in close and angles his head to the side as his eyes remain dead set on yours, “Hm? Are you gonna beg him to fuck you the same way you begged for my cock that night?”
You’re left staring at him all speechless and dumbfounded, no sharp remarks to throw back at him, no attempts at arguing with him, just… nothing. 
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@littlemug00 @namjoonie17717 @notjustagirlinthisworld @moonneversleeps @k4rma1sntd3ad
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plasticferal · 1 year ago
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hey queen! can you pls do an angst story with chris. where they get into an argument and chris said things he never meant. then he apologizes to her afterwards. ( basically angst to fluff)
damsel in distress | chris sturniolo.
i added my own twist to this ask. it's my favourite prompt so thank you! 18+ protective!ex-boyfriend chris x fem!reader. fighting, touches on themes of unwanted attention, mentions of alcohol, explicit language. reader discretion is advised. p.s inspired by the unreleased olivia rodrigo song 'prison for life'.
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the house is filled with familiar faces and strangers. a small gathering turned into a full blown house party from the moment the word got out. where the sturniolo triplets are, a flock follows. you sigh, pushing and shoving your way through the unwanted crowd.
all you want is to make it into the kitchen, miraculously being the only place no one wants to linger. the last person you need to see right now is your ex lover. chris is standing ahead of you, leaning on the kitchen counter, alone in the room. you shut the doors behind you, needing to escape. even if it means with him.
“if you wanted to get me alone, you could have just asked." he speaks smug, before taking a sip from his red solo cup.
“i'm not in the mood,” you dismiss. you open the fridge, eyes scanning the shelves but nothing calling your name.
you know you're not actually looking for anything, you just don't want to look at him. the entire night has you shaking with anger. from the mess in your home, the lack of care everyone is taking, the noise complaint you know you'll be getting later, and worst of all, that one guy who won't leave you alone.
you've never seen him before tonight, you don't even know his name, but all he's done is make you uncomfortable. try to dance with you, try to give you drinks. he brushes your waist every time he walks past.
all of your friends have been encouraging you to go for it, to get over chris. and honestly, you consider it for a moment. just to finally move on, but you can't bring yourself to. at least not with some random creep.
the break up is still raw. he tells everyone it was 'mutual' but it was a part on your request. he'd never throw you under the bus like that. he knows why you made your decision, he's never questioned it.
chris feels like it's unrequited love. although, you haven't lost any love for him, no matter how much you try to push him away. he has every right to despise you, but he doesn't.
every time you close a chapter with him, you find yourself in a sequel. it's like you're re-reading different stories, but the ending stays the same. your heart wants him, your brain wants to hate him.
"what's wrong?" he asks, sensing you're genuine in your frustration.
"nothing." you refuse to let him know what's happing in your world, let alone your mind. you don't need to let in him anymore, even though you want to let it out. he's the one person who could just sit and listen to you for hours on end.
"alright, just askin" his words trail off into a hush. he switches the tone, not wanting the conversation to stop.
“your friends are nice” he speaks in a sickeningly sweet tone, because if anyone knows how to kick you while you're down, it's him.
"you would think that" you scoff, implying that you've seen them throw themselves at him all night. him pouring them drinks, smiling and frothing over the attention he's receiving.
"the fuck is that supposed to mean?" his temperamental side seeps out, and you grow only more irritated.
"chris, can you get out please?" you huff, hands crossing over your chest. an unintentional way to seperate yourself from him, a metaphorical wall being put up.
"such a party pooper. you really gotta let loose, relax a bit." his words come out a lot more nasty that you hope he meant them, and it makes your face hot.
you give him the benefit of the doubt and think he's speaking with resilience, at the fact you keep shutting him down.
"i wonder why we ever broke up." you reply sarcastically, a fake smile on your face. he rolls his eyes, finishing off his drink and letting out an audible "ah," like a child finishing a juice box.
"i haven't seen you all night, y/n" his voice softens, and it becomes clear he's speaking for the sake of talking to you. he always wants to talk to you.
looking at the counter quickly to place his cup down, he looks back at you, tilting his head to the side slightly. he's not being horrible to you, he never has been. he's still in your life whether you like it or not, despite your hostility.
"sorry. i'm just tired." you lie. he knows it.
"your poker face isn't very good. i learnt that the hard way," he bounces his eyebrows, biting the tip of his tongue, eyes a bit wider as he stares at the ground and you can tell he's having a flashback.
you chuckle at the reference. the one time he caught you faking an orgasm didn't end very well, and he's been able to catch you out ever since. he's never been afraid to pull you up on your own fibs.
"sorry, again." you hug your body tighter, avoiding his eyes. he pushes himself off the counter with a stretch like hum and walks over to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulder.
"stop apologizing, you sound like matt," he rolls his eyes lightheartedly, and you let out a small laugh. that's always his intention, to make you smile.
"c'mon princess, let's get you a drink. seems like you need it." he nods toward to the door, rubbing your shoulder enthusiastically.
you let him try to fix your mood, because god knows you do actually need to stop stressing. you can't control what happens, just how you react. that's what chris always used to say when you were together.
feeling safe in his embrace, he security guard style moves you through the party. he hollers "excuse me!" and "coming through!" and everyone just listens, parting like the red sea. he's not the biggest guy in the room, but he sure is the most assertive. especially with you under his arm.
when you finally get to the drinks table, he makes you a vodka lemonade, saving the rest of the can for himself to finish off. it's not the most thrilling drink, but enough to keep you settled. ease the tension a bit. plus, it tastes good. no harm, no foul. as chris is mixing the liquids into cups, you feel an unwanted hand snake up around your hip.
"there you are. are you hiding from me?" your stomach drops at the voice of the mystery man towering over you, and you look ahead to watch chris's eyes snap up instantly.
chris lowers the cups, holding his eyes on the man behind you. you watch as he kinks his neck and his jaw tenses, taking a step closer. you shake your head at chris, holding a hand up subtly to tell him not to come any closer.
turning around, you stare up at the man. his breath reeks of liquor, and his shirt is drenched is sweat. it makes you sour your face and tense your entire body.
"i don't know what you want from me, but it's not gonna happen. i think you should leave." you speak sternly, trying not to let your voice shake with pure nerves. not even liquid confidence could help you right now.
"the party's just getting started," the man smiles, stumbling toward you in what you think is an attempt at a hug, but you begin pushing his body away from yours with a shove.
"dude, she doesn't want you. walk away." you hear chris's direct voice over your shoulder.
the last thing you want is negative attention on chris in a room full of people who would spread the news like wildfire. you never want that for him.
"it's okay, i got this." you dismiss chris in the nicest possible way, but you're being serious.
"come on, we'll have fun," the man hiccups through his words, mumbling them and tripping over toward you again.
"get the fuck away from her." chris's breath hits the back of your neck as he moves even closer to you.
"christopher, i'm serious. stop." you speak through grit teeth, so people can't read your lips, as he lingers next to you.
you try to be as inconspicuous as you can in your rejection to his advances, but he won't give up. the man appears more annoyed, and he grabs your wrist with a tight grip.
"let go of me." you grab the mans hand, trying to pry his grip without making it obvious.
you’re shaking at the thought of attention drawing. not for you, but for chris. eyes are already on you, being his ex. it's not what he ever wanted for you either. if he could make it all disappear, he would. it becomes more difficult when chris notices, and this time, has no intention of backing down.
"i'm not gonna repeat myself, back the fuck up." chris walks around your body, face to face with the guy who has a hold on you now.
"please, chris." you beg, voice quivering.
you know his temper can change in the blink of an eye. him and matt both have that in common.
"she doesn't need your help, pretty boy." the man splatters his words, a malicious smile on his face as he leans toward chris, almost nose to nose.
chris smiles criminally, flashing his teeth.
"you're right," chris puts his hands up in defence, a downward smile on his face as he chuckles darkly, taking a big step backward.
there's a feeling of relief, and intense fear as he actually does start to back away. but you know chris. unfortunately, it's unavoidable.
you try to catch his eyes, and speak through a begging stare without using words. he looks at you with sadness, and you mime the words, 'please don't'.
the moment the man tugs your wrist as if to leave with him, making you wince with the grip he holds. you regret your counteraction instantly, because chris reacts viscerally.
he flares his nostrils and squeezes his nails into his palm, balling up his hands by his hip. his knuckles are turning white.
before you can get pulled away, chris lunges forward with a tight fist, throwing a strong, perfectly aligned punch to the mans cheekbone. it throws the man to the ground in the blink of an eye, relieving the pressure on your skin. you stumble backwards, out of the line of fire.
chris steps heavily forward, shoving a foot into his ribcage before straddling his legs, completely overpowering him. the man projects forward to swing and hit chris's mouth. chris doesn't even flinch, like it was painless. you watch chris raise his arm up again to pummel down onto the now defenceless stranger.
the surrounding crowd gasps and yells, clearing the space that chris has created with his actions. iphone cameras flash, making you feel sick. the whispering and gossip you can already hear pounding in your head is overwhelming.
you feel so futile. chris is too in his own world to even realise the repercussions. you're not saying the guy didn't deserve it, you have no care in the world for him. you care about the aftermath.
in a fantasy world, a daydream, a fairytale even, this is attractive. a knight in shining armour, fighting for his lady. a world where there are no consequences, or social media, or fear. a reality chris has suddenly forgotten about.
he looks natural doing it, too. the veins in his arms so prominent, his tight mouth and huffed breaths as he gives it everything he's got.
you're frozen in shock, watching chris pelt another punch into the man, and you want to pull him off, you know you need to, but all your body can do is watch. watch the two men roughhousing and exchanging blows, chris taking every hit with pride.
you're numb to the feeling, screaming in your head.
appearing out of thin air, nick and matt are in your line of vision, hiding the chaos ahead of you. his brothers move into action before anyone else needs to.
they've obviously been summoned, but there's a part of you that believes they could just sense it. like they telepathically knew chris was getting himself into trouble by the lack of surprise they express.
nick grabs chris by the collar of his shirt, pulling him off. matt grabs his wrists, to stop him from using his fists. the fight comes undone, finally, but chris is disoriented. he spits onto the man as he's being escorted into the kitchen by his brothers.
your eyes burn with tears that refuse to fall, and matt sweeps your hand up, guiding you with them in a hurried manner. matt is trying to snap you back to reality, but it's just white noise.
chris hits his palm aggressively with frustration against the door frame of the kitchen as you all walk through, and you take a deep breath to compose yourself. your eyes are still welling as you choke back a sniffle, and you're not sure if it's shock, hurt, or anger anymore.
you're in a trance as you walk over to the freezer. your body is in autopilot, moving without you even knowing. you grab a frozen bag of vegetables out of the tray.
"so fucking stupid," you say nastily under your breath, slamming the door shut.
walking over to chris who's sat up on the ledge of the sink. you throw the packet at his chest, and he grabs it, questioning you for a second before matt walks over and shows him to place it on his bruised and red raw knuckles.
the room is filled with tension.
matt is biting his nails, you're leaning against the closed door, and nick finds himself squatting on the floor.
"what the actual fuck was that?" nick is too stunned to even yell, he just speaks aloud.
"i asked you not to, chris. i could have handled it myself." you shake your head, vision blurry as you stare vacantly ahead. you want to lash out at him, but for some reason you can't.
"yeah, it really looked like you had it under control." he crushes the frozen packet harshly against his hand.
"we'll leave you two alone." matt cuts through awkwardly, shooting nick a warning glare.
matt knows it's not his place to go off at chris right now. he'll do that later.
"but-" nick begins, and matt snaps toward the door. you hear nick sigh, knowing he would love nothing more than to stay and listen to you tear into chris. alas, they both leave promptly, matt flashing you a sympathetic smile on the way out.
you can hear from the other side of the door, both nick and matt are hustling trying to kick everyone out. it’s a weight lifted off your shoulders. the literal mess being left behind is the least of your worries now.
you're alone with chris in the kitchen again, the second time not being anymore pleasant than the first. you blame yourself fully for dropping your guard, even if for a second.
“i begged you not to, chris.” you repeat with a stern tone, laced with betrayal and genuine hurt.
he’s silent for a moment, staring at you from across the room with no emotion on his face. you know he feels terrible, he doesn’t have to show it. or tell you.
“did you think i was just gonna stand and watch?” he rebuttals.
“i would have preferred that, honestly.” you don’t understand how he can’t grasp the intensity of the situation.
"did you want him? go back out there then." he's bitter, pointing at the door. you roll your eyes, shaking your head in disbelief.
"chris," you start. he keeps talking.
“because i’m sure he’s still laying on the floor. go ahead. he might have a hard time talking now, though.” chris shrugs, speaking in a provoking manner.
“you’ll be lucky if he doesn’t press charges." you apprise.
“he should feel lucky i didn’t do worse.” he takes another step toward you, presumptuous in the way he carries himself.
"you've done a lot of stupid shit, chris. but that," you raise your hand as you speak, laughing in shock.
"that was unbelievable." you pinch the bridge of your nose, taking yet another deep breath.
"you know what's unbelievable is how you haven't even thanked me once" he ignores your words and bites back with irritation, face growing more twisted with upset.
"thank you?" you repeat, jaw dropping. you step toward him this time. you feel dejected trying to get him to understand.
"thank you for what? for causing a scene? for putting yourself in danger?" you step forward again, feeling like you could drive your heels into the ground beneath you.
"you're acting insane" he brings his hands to his head, tugging at his own hair with despair. his words sting, despite the back and forth arguing.
"you're the one that lashed out on that guy with no consideration for anyone else around you. that's insane" you speak with physical gestures unconsciously.
you're trying to reason with him, but with the state he's in, it's like trying to put a brain in a statue. you examine him, trying to search for his eyes but his body won't keep still, twisting and moving around.
"fuck, okay, i get it! i get it, y/n. you're not happy with me. you never fucking are apparently," his words trail off and he waves you away, turning his back to you. he sounds desperate for it to end.
you want to scream at him at the top of your lungs, and quite frankly, you could. your face burns and steam is about to shoot out of your ears.
"you don't need to protect me anymore, chris."
"i saved your ass out there." he speaks with his hand, four fingers direct to your chest. his words are like salt being rubbed into an open wound.
"saved me? that's a fucking stretch. your brothers saved your ass, because you don't think before you fucking act!"
"this is about YOU, y/n! what i did for you!" he slaps the back of right hand into the palm of his left.
"i'm not some damsel in distress that you need to sweep up and put in a tower, chris"
"yeah well at least in a tower you can't attract trouble." he speaks as if it's your fault, and of all the things he's just spit out, that's by far the worst. the most menacing and cut to the bone tone he's used.
"that was low, even for you." you huff, emotions at an all time high.
your breathing feels tight, but instead of reacting, you force yourself to seperate your emotions from the reality of the situation. you're both feeling very intensely, and expressing it the same way.
in hindsight, you could have redirected some of your emotions, but you also wish chris would take back some things he's said. there's no excuses.
chris re-collects himself and turns toward you again. he shrugs his shoulders, like he has nothing left to say. no fight left.
the closer chris is standing the more prominent his face is, and more specifically, his busted open lip.
you gasp in a mix of being upset, and shock. it feels like a piece of your heart is breaking off, seeing his delicate, pale skin so sore.
"your lip, chris." you exhale, stepping toward him.
he flinches when your hand raises to touch his face, and you know now that you've acknowledged it, it's hurting him. neither of you paid any attention to it amongst the turmoil.
"come here." you sigh, pulling his arm, bringing him over to where the paper towels are, in the corner of the sink.
tearing a white square into your hands, you rinse it under cold water lightly before squeezing the saturation out, leaving a damp cloth in your hand.
turning into chris's body, he looks down at you. he's still at last, and looks like he has no thoughts behind his now seemingly innocent eyes.
you cup his cheek gently, to turn his face downward. you bring the towel up to his lip, wiping his stained chin and mouth. he lets you, and doesn't even wince. he visibly gives into your touch. he's content.
"i need you to promise me you'll never do something like that again." you pull back, folding over a clean side and then wiping his lip softly, trying not to cause him pain.
"i can't promise that." he speaks in a whisper, as if he doesn't want you to hear his word.
with his lip no longer being red, you toss the damp and crumbling paper into sink, making it a problem for another time.
"why?" you look into his eyes, wiping your hands on your shirt.
his blue eyes are big but blameless, pupils dilated. holding his stare as your arm lowers.
"because if anyone lays a hand on you again, i'm going to prison for life." the piece of your heart that broke off earlier reattaches at his words alone.
chris's much shorter hair is spikey around his ears, and wet at the ends, turning dark brown from his sweat. you caress his messy curls, tucking it over the curves of his ears and taming the wispy strands. you hold his head in your hands, tiling him up and your mouths are inches apart.
"how hard did he hit your head?" you ask against his lips. he chuckles, genuinely.
he's an idiot, undeniably. but the gut wrenching, lawless love he has for you makes him that way. his low, smooth laughter, makes your heart skip a beat.
"i mean it, y/n."
"but i know, i know it was stupid." he admits.
"yeah, it was." you agree, shaking his head around slightly.
he grabs your hands with his own, engulfing them and holding them in his palms. he squeezes your hands, bringing them to his lips and kissing your knuckles.
"i'm sorry." he speaks on your skin.
"like really fucking sorry." he strains his head back with remorse, making his adam's apple more prominent, and he swallows hard. like he's swallowing his guilt.
"i said some nasty things. i wish i could take them back, y/n. i really do."
"i know, chris."
"no, you don't. i'll apologise to you everyday for the rest of my life if i have to. i've been horrible tonight."
"chris, enough," you hush him, the calmness in your tone making him understand you hear him. loud and clear. you need some time to forgive, but you absorb his words.
"i don't know how you didn't smack me in the mouth." he jokes, and you giggle through your breath.
"there's still time," you joke back. and he knows it by your tone.
"i could never bring myself to do that. as much as you deserve it." your banter eases the pressure, and you feel chris squeeze your hands in his again.
you rub your thumbs over his knuckles, looking at the little purple marks forming. he notices your face drop with stress, and he slips his hands away, moving to your hips instead.
"hey, i'm fine. i don't care what happens to me, i just need you to be okay."
"i am okay," you reply. he drops his face with a look that expresses he doesn’t believe you. you give a light eyeroll, and small smile.
"i mean it, i swear.” you raise your pinkie finger to him, to keep your promise. knowing it’s the only way he’ll actually believe you.
chris smiles, weak with his bruised lip, and wraps up your pinkie with his own, wriggling your hands around.
"i'm always gonna want to protect you." he pulls you toward his body. he's so warm, and radiates a magnetic energy that makes you want to collapse into his arms.
you know you don't need him to, but deep down, you would like his protection. his unconditional love. selflessness.
"i'll be sure to send you love letters in jail" you grin up at him, and laughs from the chest.
his voice is like a scratched record, fatigue taking over his body. you swallow hard, all of your senses coming back. he feels so real standing in front of you all of a sudden, like it's not just a dream you're about to wake up from.
"stay the night." you speak mindlessly.
chris brushes your hair from your face, cupping the back of your neck lightly to pull your forehead to his lips, kissing just above your eyebrows gently. he rests his chin on the crown of your head, pulling you tight to his chest in an embrace.
"i'll stay forever if you ask me to."
this is the feeling he fights for. requited love.
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simpee9000 · 5 months ago
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Not Just Friends - 9 -
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M.List : Prologue : Part 1 : Part 2 : Part 3 : Part 4 : Part 5 : Part 6 : Part 7 : Part 8 : Words 5.1k
Childhood best friends turned into something more, at least with the label. Katsuki Bakugo, a fast-rising hero and fast-learning guy who is ever so slow in getting attached to and loving someone. Even three long years into a relationship, and your friends even forget you're even dating. Nothing happening, spare a few kisses.. like 3 kisses, during high school. Graduated and living together, and you guys have done absolutely nothing to further the relationship. Are you sure you're not just friends? Also not edited!! CW: Smut, brief domestic violence discussion, virginity loss, aggressive flirting from creeps, gore with pro hero stuff (lmk if i missed any) Applies to all chapters regardless of it is in said chapter.
The change was weird. A lasting sour taste in your mouth.
It was sudden too. His withdrawal from your life was instant.
Rather than how it was when you were temporarily sharing his room, he didn't wake you up and say goodbye. You thought that was just a morning after an argument thing, but it lasted. Going into the next week he even changed it more.
He no longer let you share your mornings, you had to relearn to use your own alarm quickly. Your schedules conflicted more than just that as well.
Lunch would no longer work, he switched his patrol times and took on meetings instead of leaving the space open for you.
Dinner wasn't really a thing anymore either. He stopped telling you when he'd be home, and after the first week of him not being home till late, you gave up. Throwing yourself into work as well. Changing your hours so you could sleep in more and get home later. Just to eat some leftovers he packed up for you, before turning in.
Words weren't really exchanged anymore and it was weird. You shared a room, and a bed, yet never saw each other awake.
It felt like a break up. In the simplest of terms. It wrecked you for a while. Felt like you were trudging along as you waited for him like a puppy.
You knew he held grudges but you've never expected him to turn it onto you.
You wanted to mourn the relationship but felt like it wasn't a right you had. He was still your boyfriend, you think. And you talked after you woke him up getting into bed. A quick conversation, but a conversation nonetheless. But the relationship back peddled to way before he got the watch. It felt like how it was after your first kiss in first year. Consuming yourselves with school to avoid the talk.
His mom still called often, nothing changed with how she spoke to you. Nothing changed outside your relationship with him and it was weird. You don't even know if your friends have noticed and it's been months.
It was nearing the end of October, the argument happened in the middle of August.
And none of your friends even blinked an eye. When Katsuki refused an invitation they assumed the normal, not surprised to see you at the bar without him. Mei didn't even notice. When you brushed off your change of work schedule and said he changed as well, she didn't ask another question. Thinking you were only glum because of the negative side of the internet. Fans bashing you at any corner possible.
It didn't bother you much, felt like a fly buzzing around you constantly but it was liveable.
Getting pestered for more interviews, people trying to get an inside look at Dynamight's home life. But you followed Shoto's PR manager's advice and chose to stay out of the limelight. Only interviewing when it was about your work.
Your work was your baby after all. Especially recently, it was hard to get you out of the office before two in the morning. Having more heroes come to you than before. It was exciting to see your career grow, you were just slightly annoyed that it was because of Katsuki that it grew. But a win was a win.
Everyone agreed with you on that, your friends closed down a bar for you, wanting to celebrate how many clients you had. You were getting article after article written about your work, being named as the second-best individual support tech in all of Japan. Because obviously, they'd have rankings for that as well.
A blush instantly covered your face when you walked into the bar, Mei pushing you forward. She dragged you out of the lab for once and convinced you to show face.
Kirishima is the first to tackle you in a hug, letting Mina do the same right after. "Congrats," he patted your shoulder as he pulled you more into the bar.
Most of Class A was there for you, celebrating you. Other pros you met along the way as well. People that you stayed in touch with since high school. Anyone you would want to be there was there.
"You guys shouldn't have," you smiled at the group, it was contagious. Denki had a derpy smile on him while Mina was bouncing around.
Kirishima laughed you off, "You needed it, been stuck in that lab and it paid off." You shrunk in on yourself when called out, you hadn't really been showing up that often to group outings. Not nearly as much as you used to.
"I got your favorite Cake!" Mina skipped towards you as best as she could. The cake was custom-made for you, having only the best flavors.
"It's not my birthday," you felt the need to point out, given the size of the celebration. And the candles that topped the cake.
"Might as well be," Mina pushed, "You're a new person! Officially number 2 in Japan!"
You did feel like a new person, you've changed a lot in the past two months.
"Come on," Mei teased over your shoulder, "Blow out the candles!"
"Make a wish!" Mina cheered, pushing the cake closer to you. And with the people you knew, they joined in. Cheering you on.
"They're gonna melt, y'know," Sero urged you once move.
"Fine," you laughed, feeling lighter than you had in the past couple of months. Thinking of nothing in particular as you blew out the candles, only looking around the crowd after. Noticing the lack of a certain blonde.
Rather than letting your shoulders slump too much, you let yourself fall into the cheer from your friends.
It was how you've done things since. You stopped waiting around for him, for the first time since you were kids. You pushed past him, not looking at every notification on your phone and hoping it was him. It didn't take Izuku this long to move beyond Katsuki, so you don't know why you let yourself take this long. Living behind him for so long.
You were pushed from conversation to conversation, catching up with people you haven't seen in a while and then talking with your closest friends. Being handed drink after drink in the process.
"You've been working a lot," Izuku commented when you finally made your way to him.
"Yeah," you nodded happily, "It's paid off."
He furrowed his brows, "You shouldn't overwork yourself. You haven't had a day off in months."
"Not true, I take a day off every week," you corrected him, not knowing where he got that idea. You took a day off every week, taking time to sleep the entire time.
"But-" he looked so confused, "Kacchan said you're not home, like ever."
"Oh," you understood the confusion now, "I switched my off days."
"Why?"
You shrugged, not really wanting to get into this conversation. Especially not with him and not now. You'd fall apart instantly. The feeling and pressure of your fragile relationship sitting on top of your chest. "Needed a change, you know how it is."
"I'm here for you, I know I'm busy but if you need anything I'm here," he was taking on the concerned best friend role, like usual.
"Z', I'm fine, really," you brushed off his concern, "Better than ever, my career is taking off, that's all that matters."
"That's not all that matter-"
"I need to go thank Mina and Mei again for setting this up," you excused yourself and walked through the slowly dying crowd. Meeting with the two pink-haired girls that were chatting near the food.
"Why do you look so drained?" Mei called out instantly, Mina slapping her shoulder right after.
"Social battery is just nonexistent right now," you lied, picking up a piece of food.
Mina looked around the bar, "It seems like it's just your close friends now, everyone else left by now."
You sighed in relief, you wanted to go home somewhat. Yet you didn't want to go back to him.
"Hey, Mei," you got her attention, "Can I spend the night?"
"Yeah," she shrugged, "Thought your social battery was dead though?"
"Friends don't count," you contradicted yourself and just prayed they wouldn't call you on it.
"Still, you never ask," Mei pointed out.
"I'm a new person," you grabbed another piece of food, filling your mouth so you couldn't be asked anymore.
"If you're mad at Bakugo for not showing up I wouldn't blame you." Mina spoke softly, "Dick move of him honestly."
"He's busy, it's fine," you defended him without another thought.
"No it's not, how many award shows have you been to for him?" Mei joined in. It felt nice they had your back, but it wasn't necessary.
You sighed, "I'm used to it. I'll have plenty more so it's fine."
Mina and Mei shared a look, not wanting to give in and forgive him as easily as you do, but not wanting to put you down either. "You're welcome to stay at mine," Mei finished the conversation.
A small gasp left Mina's mouth, eyes widening. "Bag of dicks is here," Mei groaned.
You couldn't help looking over your shoulder, seeing Katsuki for the first time awake in a while. Seeing Kirishima and Denki crowd him instantly. Greeting him warmly as you stood there. "I need a drink," you twisted your direction to head to the bar. Tonight was going to be a good night, not another about him.
Looking at him was too much, it hurt at first. Knowing your last real conversation was an argument. One where he threatened to take sex away from you, when he actually took everything him away. Just because you didn't want him to die for a stupid reason. It hurt to see everything on his side was fine.
It pissed you off. He was acting the same as you were, sure, but you would have gone to his award show. You would have been the first one there. Yet here he was, the last person to show after most left.
The bartender was quick to hand you a drink, watching and replacing it after you downed it all. You've been steadily drinking all night but a new buzz would help. Help the anger that was brewing over you.
You turned around when you had your second drink, wanting to sip on this one instead. Only getting more upset when he was still talking to his friends. Not even sparing you a glance. You let your head fall at this point, watching your shoes as you tapped your feet.
Any thought other than him would help, this wasn't about him. It shouldn't be.
For the past two months, you've been doing everything alone, and it's shown it's worth it. This was just another event that you had to get through. You'd just have to deal with him standing on the sidelines for once.
You saw Uraraka's white shoes before she spoke, "Do you want to join the group?"
When you looked up you saw that people pushed tables together, all of them sitting down together. How you didn't hear them move everything was surprising. Once you got rid of the shock, you turned back to her, "Yeah sure."
She smiled warmly, linking her arm with yours as she walked to the table with you. Sitting down next to you after you took your spot at the head of the table, next to him, unfortunately. You kept your body turned away from him, focusing on talking with her. The two of you didn't get to talk often after all. But you liked her nonetheless, she was the embodiment of welcoming.
The side conversations easily merged into one big conversation. You looked over the group as you leaned back in your chair. Sero was laughing as Denki rambled, Mei and Mina encouraging the conversation while Kirishima tried to reel it back in. Izuku was smiling fondly at the group, the same as Shoto. It was all your closest friends, it made you feel warm.
"It is not just a high school thing," Denki pointed at Sero laughing, "you're just mad that you couldn't." You were easily confused by his outburst, not having a clue what the conversation was about.
"No Nut November is like a middle school joke," Sero stated back.
"What is that?" Shoto asked, confused.
Denki and Sero started laughing, forcing Mina to explain, "It's a thing guys do, a challenge of not nutting for the full month of November."
"Nutting?" Shoto asked again.
"You're kidding!" Denki wheezed.
"Cumming," Kirishima answered, face cringing at the conversation. Everyone cringed besides Denki and Sero, who were too busy laughing.
"Why would you do that though?" Shoto was trying to piece together the concept.
"Only idiots do," Katsuki cut in. It was the first time you heard his voice so clearly all night.
Not being given a chance to soak in his voice, Denki starts defending the idea again, "You're only saying that cause you couldn't last that long."
"I could," Katsuki bit back, wanting to win at anything challenged.
"Please," Sero started teasing as well, "Bakugo you'd last a day."
"How the fuck would you know?"
"You either get some daily or never," Sero pointed out, "I'm falling on the likelihood of daily, knowing your girlfriend."
"Okay," you slapped your hands on the table, "Enough of that conversation."
Mina booed at you, having enjoyed the guys bickering.
"Thank god," you heard Izuku whisper in relief.
"I think I'm going to head out," you announced, standing up and giving Mei a nod so she knew she should get ready. You were thankful the bar was already nearly clean, no help was needed.
You looked down at Katsuki when you heard his keys, the sound familiar to you.
"Did you drive here?" Katsuki asked you, looking back up at you.
"Uh-" you looked at Mei, "I didn't."
"Need a ride back home?" he offered, standing up next to you.
It hurt to decline him, but you didn't want anything to do with him, not tonight.
"Ready?" Mei joined you by your side.
You looked between the two before settling on Katsuki, "I'm actually going to stay the night at Mei's." Any hope he had in his eyes left, face dropping in the slightest bit. You didn't notice the look he held until it was gone.
He looked like he got his heart ripped out and stomped on, but so did you.
"Look, if this is about me showing up late, I'm-"
A surprised laugh left your lips, it was mean. And the look on his face showed that he felt that it was mean as well. "This isn't about you Katsuki," you put it bluntly. It wasn't about him, tonight wasn't about him. You wanted to keep a good mood, and going home with him wouldn't do that.
You didn't give him the chance to reply before you grabbed onto Mei, wanting to leave as soon as possible. Going through all the goodbyes.
---
Mei and you shared the same horrible sleep schedule. She grabbed some wine as she let you collapse on her couch and turned the TV onto something for background noise the second you got to her apartment.
She handed you a glass before she sat down next to you, beer in her own hand. "I got to ask now, you know that right?"
You groaned, taking a sip of your wine, "Hit me with the questions." Avoidance wouldn't last in a small setting and you knew that.
"What the hell happened between you guys?"
"We're having a rough spot right now," you answered simply, shuffling further into the couch.
"That much is obvious."
"Fine," you gave in, taking a deep breath to give an actual answer, "I haven't really talked to him for two months."
Mei's face drained of all color, "What?"
"Yeah," you shrugged, swirling the wine in your glass.
"Are you broken up?" Mei reached a hand to rest on your forearm.
"No, at least," you thought for a second, "I don't think we are."
"How are you with someone you haven't talked to in months?"
"I don't know," you mumbled.
"What type of argument could have caused that?"
You wanted to laugh out of frustration, looking back on it was painful and stupid to you. Yet you were still so mad. "Y'know how I made him that watch?" she nodded, "Well, he asked me to make the watch for the reasons you thought. And he was fully relying on it. Having his quirk off every time he was next to me."
"Can't that kill you?" Mei asked.
"Yes, so I told him that and he turned it into a massive thing. I asked him to take it off, and he said no, so I told him I wouldn't touch him when he had his quirk off. Now we just don't talk," you explained quickly, chest tightening.
"But you're still dating?" you could tell she was trying to be sensitive to the situation.
All you could do was shrug, "I still share a bed with him, so I'm assuming yes."
"How come you don't talk to him?"
"I tried the first week, but when he changed his schedule around to avoid me, I did the same."
"So that's why-"
"Yeah, it's done a lot of good for me though. I've finally grown a lot more. My career is at a high and it's only up from now. I'm no longer just in his shadow. Honestly, I'm thankful for the fight. I finally feel like an adult. I don't need anyone to get me where I am and it's refreshing," you admitted. A lot of good has come from it, and you weren't going to ignore it.
"But you love him?" Mei asked, trying to make sure.
"Of course, he just isn't my life."
"You're not going to try for him? You have been each other's since you were five," Mei worded slowly.
"I'm not reaching out to someone who doesn't want me, Mei," you looked at her, firm on what to do about everything. It was already settled before but now you've actually said it. "I don't know why it took me forever to realize, I wish I did when Izuku did. I would be a lot further in life."
"You already are far in life, you're not even twenty and your 2nd best support tech-"
"I could have been first-"
"No," Mei shook her head, "I'm sorry to say it, but you're only this far because of him. Because of your friends."
"Mei-"
"I'm not wrong, you've been given endless support. Without that? You would still be fumbling behind everyone else. You can't get anywhere in life solely on your own."
"Well, it wasn't only him," you pointed out. You agreed with her, your friends helped a lot.
"It was majority him," she pointed out.
You rolled your eyes, "Don't you somewhat hate him?"
"I still know he's good for you, and if your entire relationship goes to shit over this, I'm not letting myself be a part of it. Is he an asshole for showing up late? Yes, fuck him for that. Is he a dick for throwing a fit about kissing and not talking to you? Absolutely. But he is also the man who loves you the most, he's been there for you so many times. Are you going to throw that away?"
"I'm not throwing shit away, he is," you defended yourself, tears lining your eyes.
"Your not even trying-"
"I shouldn't have to," you stood up, "I tell him everything while he keeps himself away. I'm fucking done. If he wants me, he needs to tell me."
"What are you doing?" Mei questioned, seeing you grab your things.
"Leaving," you said firmly.
"You don't have a car-"
"I'll walk," you spit out, slamming the door to her apartment as you left. Breaking down when in the elevator. You wanted tonight to be about you, about your success. Yet as always, it turned out to be about him. You thought you'd grown out of being only mentioned because of him.
You walked on uneasy footing until you got out of her block. She was your best friend and she didn't even understand. It made you wish you talked to Izuku.
The street lamps lit up your bag as you looked for your phone. Glancing at the time before you dialed his number. His sleep was fucked up too, so you weren't worried about waking him up
"Are you okay?" was the first thing he said, full of concern. It was 3 in the morning after all.
"No," you choked on a sob, choosing to lean on a wall rather than continue walking. You didn't even know where to walk.
"What's going on? Do I need to get you-"
"I'm safe," you cleared up your throat, "I'm just struggling."
"Why?"
"Katsuki and I are in a rough patch, Mei doesn't get my side on it, and I can't turn to him," you rambled, "I just don't know what to do."
"Just breathe right now, you're going to get worse if you continue like this," he counted for you to follow. Performing his hero script as he calmed you down.
You let yourself sit on the concrete, leaning your back onto a random building as you rested your head on your knees.
"Okay," you whispered into the phone, "Katsuki and I haven't talked in two months."
Izuku was a rambler but he was also a good listener. Letting you get out any detail you needed before even opening his mouth. So you told him everything, leaving out any sex-related things. Telling him Katsuki used the watch to hug you or kiss you, so a truth in the cover-up. He could draw up that conclusion on his own.
"I was just thinking that maybe you'd understand," you finished, "I'm just so tired of reaching out to him."
"I get it," he started, "Probably the only one that does. He locks himself off and just expects you to come chasing for him. And the second you don't, he throws a fit. You should let him, I know it's hard, but he needs to grow up as well. You told him your concern and he locked you out, he needs to be the one to let you back in."
You sighed in relief, "So I'm doing the right thing?"
"Yes, especially in a relationship. It shouldn't be so one-sided with communication. You come a long way in the past months, and he should acknowledge that. I love you both, and I hope you guys work past it, but if it doesn't then it's for the best," he spoke to you like a brother would. You didn't even notice when the dynamic between the two of you flipped. Him going from acting like a younger brother to the older brother.
"Thank you," you sniffled, trying to dry the tears that have been working down your face, "Mei thinks I'm throwing everything away."
"He's the one that pushed you out, he's throwing it away," Izuku pointed out. You hummed in agreement, looking down at your phone.
"Holy fuck," the time surprised you, it was nearing five in the morning, and it was a Saturday. You were thankful that the city wasn't awake yet. "I need to get home."
"You're not home?!" he squeaked into the phone, "Where are you?"
"I don't know," you answered honestly, standing upright and stretching your limbs out.
"What?!"
"I'll start walking home now," you tried to calm him down.
"Do you know how dangerous that is?"
"I'm fine Izuku, I'm maybe a block away from home," that seemed to calm him down. He let you hang up the phone, telling you to text him when you were home.
You were glad to have a hoodie at this point, pulling the hood up to hide your tear-streaked face as you walked back home. Needing the ten-minute walk to calm down. Think for yourself.
While you fully agreed with Izuku, you also saw Mei's point of view. She wanted you happy, and you were happy with Katsuki. You didn't want to break up with him, you loved him fully. But if he couldn't meet you halfway, you weren't going to rush to fill that emptiness he left. You'd rather move on to better things. Maybe find someone who would.
With your head hung low the entire walk back to your apartment, you didn't even notice you were in the elevator until it opened on your floor. Having walked all the way on a full autopilot. Thinking of your relationship that overtook one of the biggest days of your career.
You opened your door with a sigh, throwing your keys on the shelf before turning into the kitchen for some water. Filling up a glass before you walked to the basket of blankets in the corner of the living room.
The second you turned around to walk to the couch you dropped your glass. A shocked scream left your lips when you saw Katsuki sitting there in the dark.
"What the fuck are you doing?" you hissed at him, confused as to why he was sitting in the dark and not in his room.
"I was sleeping," he answered.
"Here?" you shot back, bending down to pick up the broken glass.
"Aren't you supposed to be at Mei's?"
You squeezed your hand in annoyance, only noticing the burn of the cut then.
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing," you turned his concern down, throwing away the broken glass when you walked into the kitchen. Thankful that it broke into big pieces rather than small. You ran your hand underwater as you ignored him.
"You're bleeding," it was clear he was groggy with sleep.
"No shit," you answered plainly.
"Fuckin' c'mere," he moved near you, trying to grab your hand only to get swatted away.
"I can take care of myself," you snapped at him, moving to grab a paper towel, trying to dry up the small cut.
"Think I don't fucking know that?" he asked back, agitated at your reactions to him. You waited for the bleeding to stop before throwing away your trash and grabbing a bandaid to cover the small cut to your finger.
You shrugged, "Never know with you. Never tell me anything. Don't know what you know or don't."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"I-" you sighed, you didn't want to get into it, "Nothing, I'm tired." You walked past him again, grabbing a blanket and getting comfortable on the couch.
"You're sleeping down here?"
"Yeah, go to bed Katsuki," you turned away from him.
"Kats," he said softly, making you turn to face him again.
"What?"
"You stopped calling me Kats, it's only this Katsuki bullshit now."
"Whatever, Katsuki," you dismissed without thinking, turning back over as you tried to forget how he looked just then. It's how he looked at the party, just ten times worse.
"What happened to us?"
You didn't bother to reply, it was clear he wanted you to do the talking. But if he wanted to actually talk, he had to first.
"This," he paused, silence filling the air before he cleared his throat only for his voice to crack regardless, "This isn't what I want."
"You never told me what you wanted," you couldn't help but reply.
"I'm not good at this type of shit," he was angry at himself but you wouldn't fall into this pity party for himself. "I didn't think you'd change your schedule."
"You changed yours."
"I only did that because I needed to think," he defended.
"For two months?"
"I switched it back after but you weren't home, and haven't been since."
"So you couldn't have called? Asked me when I did get home at night? Woke me up in the morning to talk?"
"You could have done the same."
"I always do that Katsuki," you turned to face him, "I'm always the one fucking chasing you. And I'm done."
He choked, "You're done?"
"I'm done chasing after you," you clarified, "I've met you halfway, time after time, you just need to do the same."
Silence buzzed around the living room. The two of you were just staring at each other. Both are equally heartbroken. You looked him over for the first time in months.
"You're still wearing the watch," you pointed out, seeing the gleam of it on his wrist.
"You gave it to me," he replied, "I haven't used it since, by the way."
"Good."
He took a shaky breath in, "I'm so fucking sorry, Brains." You waited for him to continue, "You were right, I wasn't using it just as a crutch. I was completely relying on it." It hurt to hear it from him, you already knew it was true. "I, fuck," he ran his hand over his face, "I went to the doctor too, they said if I used it that much it'd kill me. Having my quirk completely off."
You couldn't be more glad about the fight now, knowing it kept him from killing himself. Sure it wouldn't kill him immediately, but over time it would just get worse and worse for his health.
"Once I found out you were right, I just couldn't bear the thought. I don't feel safe around you without my quirk dampened and now I can't," he admitted, "I feel my quirk just with this conversation. I don't want to hurt you."
"You were late to the party," you pointed out instead, "You never even congratulated me."
He hung his head, "I got sidetracked with trying to get a gift- but I was going to congratulate you at home."
"Doesn't excuse it."
"I know, I'm sorry," he reached into his pocket, "I got this for you though." He tossed the small bag at you.
You gave him an unsure look before opening it, first seeing a sticker of "World's Best Tech" an inside joke between the two of you. He hated the idea of #1 mugs and things like it, claiming he was better than everyone else. The next was just a small necklace, something easy to wear with everything.
"It doesn't make up for shit, and that's not what I'm trying to do with it," he said after you stared at the gift for a while.
"I know," you spoke softly, the gift was thoughtful for your relationship.
"I'm so fucking proud of you, I knew you could do it," he followed.
Tears were hitting your eyes harder than before. Despite claiming you didn't need him. You wanted to hear him say that so bad.
You saw him move to get up when he saw your tears, sitting back down and grabbing his own hands when he decided against it. You patted the seat next to you. As long as his watch wasn't on, you were okay. He rushed immediately to your side, tugging you into a hug before he could overthink.
"I should have talked to you a lot sooner," he spoke into your hairline, leaving a kiss on your forehead after.
"Yeah."
"I'm sorry I can't be there for you like this," he said softly.
You pulled back from him, "What do you mean?"
"Can't hug you and shit," he grumbled, pulling you back into him. Not wanting you to see his face.
You sat in silence for a while, soaking in his words and the perspective he likely had the past two months. He could have thought you stopped talking to him because he couldn't touch you anymore.
"I'm not mad that you can't touch me, I'm upset that you don't talk to me, in general," you spoke just as softly as he did, wanting to comfort him the way he was comforting you.
He let out a breath of relief, "It's gotten worse without you around."
"What did?"
"My quirk just goes off without you now, just the thought freaks me out enough. Fuckin' annoying," he confessed.
"Is it going to go off soon?" you wanted to be prepared to be pushed away from him. If he did it unannounced you'd likely cry. He just squeezed you closer.
"No," he said quietly, "It's finally calmed the fuck down."
-Next Part-
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kooktrash · 1 year ago
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LIMERENCE | jeon jungkook
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summary: a recent discovery of old VCR tapes takes you down a rabbit hole of self-pity, remembering what you once had and how it all went down the drain over youthful mistakes. suddenly, you find yourself playing back the old tapes of the best relationship you’ve ever had and all you can think about is how to get it back—if you could get it back
warnings: angst. smut. [jk and oc in videos: 18-20 | jk and oc now: 26] retired emos. exes to lovers. unprotected intercourse [listen it had been six years they weren’t waiting 😭] jk has a bellybutton piercing and he smokes. jk owns a camera shop. supportive besties Jimin and Tae and Yoongi. Y2K styled camcorders. a small argument on one of the tapes
LIMERENCE MASTERLIST
➢ genre/au: exes to lovers, smut, Y2K videotape style [ ex boyfriend!jk x ex girlfriend!y/n [she/her. female anatomy ]
➢ 18.4k words
song inspo: risk — deftones, 505 — arctic monkeys, afraid — xavier omar, who [feat. BTS] — lauv
The end of a chapter in your life always came when you least expected it. You’ll wake up one day and it’ll hit you that you don’t talk to the same people. You don’t do the same things or act the same way and when you look back at before, it will feel so far from the person you are now.
Standing before your half empty apartment began to bring this growing feeling of sadness inside you. It made you feel stupid but you just couldn’t help it, this was the end of a huge time in your life where you felt like you really began to develop into who you are. After seven years living here, you’re finally moving on and everything that happened here would be left behind. All the laughter, the crying, the break ups that left you balling your eyes out on the kitchen floor. You would soon move into a clean slate and for some reason that was hitting you hard.
It probably didn’t help that your dear friend managed to find a box of things— you haven’t thought about in quite literally years—hidden away in an old storage space on the ceiling. The sides of the cardboard box were in ruins with wet patches and bent corners. There was no writing on the sides but on the top a big line of red duct tape with the words ‘JJK’ and a few small scissors stab marks next to it. Jimin looked up at you with a raised brow, “Are you keeping this one?”
Your expression seemed to flatten as you looked down at it, unsure what to say and he sighed, “Come on Y/n, it’s late, I want to get as much of this out as we can. Are you keeping this one?”
“Um,” You looked back down at it, nodding your head, “Yes.”
Since the day you found that box and told Jimin you were keeping it, all it’s done is collect dust in the corner of your new living room, out of place and constantly on your mind. Your friends were a big help in the move, especially Jimin who had hauled that huge cardboard box up three flights of stairs to your new place without question to what was in it. It wasn’t until he got tired of seeing it sit in the corner for an entire week after everything had been unpacked that he really began to get curious about it.
“So what’s in that thing?” Jimin asked that Friday night you lounged around your apartment, proud to have finally gotten everything out. Tonight was the first night your mutual friend would be over and it was like a housewarming party with the only two people who can stand being around you.
“What’s in what?” You asked, catching a glance at your friend, Somin, who’s knowing eyes bore into yours—already knowing what he was talking about. The thing is, Somin was very aware of what was in that box and she’s been biting her tongue all night from asking why you still had it.
“The box, it’s just been sitting there,” Jimin said pointing to it, “It’s kinda ruining this whole vibe you’ve got going on here with all the black decor and house plants.”
“Just some old stuff,” you shrugged it off, looking back down at the playing cards in your hands, “I haven’t found a place to put it.”
Somin raised a brow at you but you ignored her this time to continue your game of cards and drink your wine. Jimin looked at her, “Do you know what’s in it?”
You sighed, “Jimin, I told you it’s just some old stuff.”
“Yes, Y/n, but old stuff can be a lot of things and that box was heavy so I’m curious,” Jimin said exaggeratedly, “Can’t a man be curious these days?”
“It’s no—“
“It’s a bunch of old home videos,” Somin said as she poured herself more wine casually like she hadn’t just exposed what was inside your secret box. Jimin’s jaw dropped, “Wait, Y/n, you used to do porn?”
“What!?” You nearly choked, “No—well, like on—no! Those aren’t that type of home video, they’re just… y'know old tapes.”
“Like from when you were a kid?” Jimin asked with a scoff, “Let’s watch them.”
“I’m not a kid,” You said shaking your head no, “And no, let’s not watch them.”
“I agree with Jimin,” Somin cut in after watching you begin to panic a bit, “You kept them for a reason, let’s see why. Jimin’s never seen them.”
You laughed nervously, “Come on, it’s just silly stuff, I just kept them for the memory, that’s all.”
“We don’t doubt it,” Jimin said with a smirk, “But come on, let me see one—just one.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“Fine!”
The three of you huddled around it with a pair of keys using the jagged end to cut into the old tape and the box nearly fell apart just like that. When Jimin pulled the tabs open, the three of you seemed to lean in closer and closer with anticipation for the reveal until finally, a silence fell over you.
Jimin didn’t hesitate from reaching into it, scabbing row after row of old VCR tapes with white labels on the sides with similar titles in a numerical order.
‘JJK 1’
‘JJK 2’
‘JJK 3’
‘JJK 4’
There were 24 tapes in the box and he counted every single one meaning these spanned two years with one tape filmed per month. The same initials that had been on top of the box had been written on the tapes and he couldn’t help himself from picking up the first one. “Let’s watch it.”
“No! No,” you said, taking it out of his hands, “You wanted to see what was inside and you saw, be happy with what you get, I don’t have anything to play these on anyway.”
“I do!” Somin piped in, “I’ve got my old tape player back home, say the words and I’ll go get it.”
“Not neces—“
“Do it.”
What you wanted at the moment seemed to be outnumbered by your friend’s curiosity and your other friend’s need to satiate it. You were left alone with Jimin for twenty minutes as Somin left to get it and he rummaged through them trying to ask you what they were, only for you to evade each question out of stubbornness. Now she’s back and you’re watching them set everything up on your flatscreen while you sat back on your couch chugging back your glass of wine nervously.
Jimin smiled mischievously as he held up a tape, building anticipation before placing it into the player and letting it start.
․ ∘ ⊹ ✰ ┆ JJK 1 : THE SHOP ┆ ✰ ⊹ ∘ .
There was a pungent chemical smell surrounding the register you currently sat on that had the customers in line scrunching their noses in disgust but that didn’t seem to stop either one of you from what you were doing. He worked with one hand as best as he could while you worked on the other applying a cold layer of polish onto his fingers.
A small black nail polish was set down on the counter next to a silver cam recorder that had been angled at the two of you this whole time, capturing on video the way you painted your coworker’s nails. Jungkook bid them farewell before turning his attention back on you, “Hurry up, we’re starting to get busy again.”
“Shh,” you pointed a manicured finger up, “You can’t rush perfection.”
“I’m not rushing perfection, I’m rushing you,” Jungkook said as you brought his hand closer to your lips trying to dry his nails with your warm breath. The video seemed to have a perfect view of the way his eyes glossed over with affection when he looked at you and you weren’t paying attention.
“Oh my god, every girl is going to want to sleep with you,” you eyed his nails proudly, “You look hot.”
“I’ve always been hot,” Jungkook said looking down at his black nails that complimented his black leather and beaded bracelets that lined his wrists, “Okay but how cool do these make me look? Like, would you sleep with me?”
He tilted his head toward you in curiosity and for a moment you just looked at him in thought before finally shrugging, “Yeah, I’d do it.”
“Do what?” Jungkook asked, shaking his black hair out of his face. With the way the camera was aimed, the two of you looked zoomed in but it still managed to capture the way your eyes stayed on each other wordlessly, the tension felt through the screen.
‘Can someone help get a shirt down?’
He watched you hop off the graffiti-covered counter and grabbed the long hook that helped get things down and left with her—not before responding with a simple, “You.”
Once your answer registered in his head, he wasted a single second to look at his camera, wondering if it had caught this small flirty moment the two of you had while you painted his nails and the thought alone made him smirk, biting against his lip ring too. He didn’t think he would get his nails painted at work today but when he saw you doing your own, you convinced him and he spent the last ten minutes messing around with you, flirting here and there.
The shift had been boring for the most part and all the songs that played he'd already heard a million times over. This is his fifth time singing along to Falling Away From Me by Korn. Do you think he wants Korn stuck in his head all day?
His beanie clad head bobbed to the rifts in the song, quietly lip synching as he went back to doodling on an old receipt paper. Some of the ink from the pen he used was smudging and the black hearts he drew were getting ruined but he didn’t care. He’ll either throw it away or stick it on your back if he wants to.
“Beating me down! Beating me, beating me down, down, into the ground,” a voice sang loudly in his ear making him jump in fear.
“Don’t moan in my fucking ear, bro,” Jungkook said holding a hand to his ear, the softness of his beanie tickling his fingers. Taehyung threw himself against the counter with his back pressed against it looking at his friend, “You know you liked it.”
“Fuck off,” Jungkook said as he blew air on his nails again, drawing Taehyung’s attention to them. He stuck a hand out as if waiting and Jungkook put his hand over it to show him his nails.
Taehyung seemed impressed as he asked, “Who did them?”
“Y/n.”
“Y/n!” Taehyung shouted abruptly and Jungkook flinched away with annoyance, ready to tell him you were helping a customer when you popped around the corner with a t-shirt and hanger in your hands and the customer behind you.
“What?” Your brows arched in confusion as you looked at your coworker who has spent the last twenty minutes in the stockroom between Nirvana posters and new Metallica tees hiding so he could play his Nintendo GameBoy. Jungkook was careful not to fuck up his black nails and took the shirt from you so he could check the customer out.
Taehyung pointed to Jungkook’s nails,“Can you do mine next?”
A scoff left your lips, joining him next to the counter standing close to ask, “Are you going to pay me?”
His jaw dropped as he turned back to Jungkook, “What the fuck? Did he?”
“Thank you, have a good night,” Jungkook mumbled to the customer as she left with a new t-shirt before turning to the other two, “I’m buying Y/n lunch tomorrow.”
“I’ll buy you lunch the day after.”
“You can’t. That’s not original.” You said to him with a teasing smirk. The two of you were standing close to each other as you talked, Taehyung’s voice dropped when he spoke to you, “You know what, just because the two of you got a little crush on each other doesn’t mean you’ve gotta favor him.”
Jungkook looked down at the drawing he made, trying his best to act like he hadn’t heard what Taehyung said, but it didn’t stop the growing blush to his cheeks. It’s true, maybe he does have a thing for you but it’s still too early to tell, y’know? He’s not sure how to explain it but you seem to get him. The two of you like the same kind of music and know the same sort of things. You listen to him talk and when he’s quiet, you don’t question it. You make him feel comfortable and when you flirt with him he wonders if you feel the same.
Honestly, that’s all he’s wanted these days, his attraction toward you to be reciprocated anyway it could be. He thinks about you constantly, probably more than what’s healthy but he can’t help it.
“Oh shut up,” you rolled your eyes playfully, feeling the shuffling movement of Jungkook pulling himself up on the counter, “Just say you’re jealous and feel left out.”
“Bitch?!” Taehyung scoffed, “I wouldn’t feel this way if you treated us fairly, instead you give him special treatment.”
“You realize you’re arguing with me over getting your nails painted?” You asked with a roll of your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest, clearly annoyed and once Jungkook saw that he was fully pulling you his way. He threw an arm around your neck, hugging you from behind as he sat on the counter and rested his head on yours, “Ignore him, he’s in a mood because he just got dumped.”
“Fuck you, I broke up with her!” Taehyung nearly yelled, staring at the two of you with disgust as Jungkook fixed the beanie on your head that had slipped a little too low over your eyes.
Just as you were getting ready to respond to him, the door of the stockroom opened and your boss was coming out with a blank expression, “Can you guys do your jobs instead of fuck around?”
“Yoongi, I’m being bullied,” Taehyung argued, “Fire them already.”
“I’ll fire you too,” Yoongi teased before looking at Jungkook, “Get off my counter.”
․ ∘ ⊹ ✰ ┆ THE END ┆ ✰ ⊹ ∘ .
The video came to an end as your old boss stood in front of the camera, blocking out the footage that ended with Jungkook whispering something into your ear.
“Who’s that guy? An ex boyfriend?” Jimin asked as the video came to an end. Somin released a soft laugh as she looked at your blank expression, unsure what to say. Before you could speak up, she was doing it for you, “That's the ex boyfriend. Jeon Jungkook.”
“Don’t immortalize him,” you said with a slight roll of your eyes as you watched Jimin rummage through the box in search of another video to play. Your bottom lip was pulled between your teeth as a strange ounce of nerves began to set in, watching him unlock a deep rooted memory you had told yourself you had forgotten. Somin sent you a knowing look as she matched the roll of your eyes with her own, “How else should I refer to him as? The guy who filmed a video each month that you two were together?”
“Damn,” Jimin laughed, slumping back in a chair as he looked at you, “So how come I’ve never heard of this videographer.”
“Because Y/n’s asham—“
“Alright! No more wine for you,” you leapt forward to snatch the glass out of your friend’s hands watching her giggle drunkenly, “You’re just saying things now.”
“Come on Y/n, I’m curious,” Jimin said tugging on your sleeve, “If you won’t let her tell me… you gotta do it. Don’t act like you don’t still think about it, why else would you have all these tapes still?”
“Because it’s not everyday someone makes 26 movies for you—and not all of them are as happy as this one,” you confessed as you looked down at ‘JJK 1’ it had been a video log of when the two of you really began to show some attraction toward each other just before he asked you out. Looking back at the video all you could think was how back then you were both young, you could see it on your faces and the sparkles in your eyes. Not all of the videos in that box would be like this one.
“Alright,” Jimin sighed, “Well then just tell me who Jeon Jungkook is.”
Sounds of a rock song’s electric guitar blurred out the noises from inside the dark shop. The store was covered in black and dark blue with its black walls and blue hues of light that shined down over dozens of cameras and melancholic portraits. It had an obviously cold aura and for some reason that had a tendency to always bring him comfort.
He felt warmth in the coolness of his small shop and oftentimes it was difficult to leave it behind, even when the night sky had appeared and the ‘closed’ sign had been flipped. The only thing that kept him from spending yet another night in the store was a set of plans that had been made days prior by someone who wouldn’t take no for an answer. When it came time to leave, he locked up shop and left on his motorcycle.
“Look who finally decided to show up,” his dear friend raised a glass of whiskey to him as he sat alone at the bar, “I was wondering if you were gonna come or not.”
“I didn’t realize I had an option,” he joked bitterly, making his friend send him a glare that was quickly wiped away when something came to mind. “So I met this chick, she’s got this friend wh—“
“No.”
“Jungkook,” his friend said, watching his friend stir the ice in his scotch, “You don’t even know what I was going to say.”
Jungkook released a scoff as he looked at him, “You were going to say that this friend wants to meet me and that I should go and get drinks with her or something.”
He sat there quietly, speechless by how spot on his best friend was, “Alright, maybe you did know what I was going to say but just hear me out… she’s hot. Uh, um, she’s your type—honestly, I’m your best friend so trust me.”
“No, Taehyung, you always say the same thing and it's always a huge waste of time,” Jungkook shook his head adamantly, “I don’t get why you’re always trying to set me up with someone whenever you get into a relationship. We’ve been friends for eight years and you’re still this clingy?”
“Okay first of all, fuck you, I’m not clingy,” Taehyung told him with a scoff, “Second, I’m trying to do you a favor considering you can’t keep a relationship to save your life.”
That made Jungkook roll his eyes as he looked anywhere but at his friend. The two sat at the counter of some quiet lounge bar where they had agreed to meet at. He raised his glass to his lips for a drink as he said, “Some people aren’t meant to be in relationship—“
“No, you wanna know what your problem is?” Taehyung cut him off, “It’s that you’re too damn picky. Hate to say it friend, but nobody is ever going to be her.”
His expression hardened as he forced his glare on the silver rings he wore, listening to the way they clinked against the polished bartop. He didn’t give Taehyung a response right away, too busy trying not to roll his eyes again but it was no use, his tongue poked against his cheek and his friend knew he got a reaction. Jungkook tilted his head in thought, “Why do you still bring Y/n up?”
“Because she was your longest relationship,” Taehyung said with a shrug. He was pushing his friend for a response and he felt a little bad but sometimes he just needs to get his friend to talk. Jungkook has always been on the quieter side, even years back. All he did was listen to music and videographed things he liked. He was a bit intimidating—still is—but it was only because he was so quiet. Sure, he knew how to joke around but Taehyung’s known him long enough to feel the difference in his friend lately. He’s become more of a shut-in, busy with the store and not focused on anything else.
“Yeah, six years ago,” Jungkook emphasized with a scoff, “And she broke up with me, remember?”
“I mean… yeah but… don’t you ever think about it?” Taehyung asked suddenly, “I still think about my first love.”
“Y/n was not my first love,” Jungkook’s brows furrowed, remembering the two girlfriends before he ever met you. Taehyung gave him a look, “Not your first girlfriend but definitely your first love. What do you think Y/n’s up to?”
He hadn’t noticed how his leg began to bounce anxiously as he took a sigh, “How would I know? You’re the one who still talks to her.”
“Not true,” Taehyung shook his head no, “We haven’t talked in over three years.”
“Hm,” Jungkook sounded unimpressed as he chugged back the rest of his drink, motioning the bartender over to ask for another round. He wasn’t in the mood to keep talking about this and it caught him off guard.
He couldn’t remember the last time he thought about you but he’s got no doubt in his mind it was because of Taehyung back then too. This is the problem with being best friends with the guy who was with you through all the ups and downs and hasn’t seen you put your all into a relationship since. The only thing Jungkook doesn’t get is why Taehyung is stuck on the idea that he never got over you.
You both were young back then. The end of your adolescence started with the beginning of adulthood and the two of you had just so happened to spend the first two years together like that. You dated when you were 18 and broke up when you were 20, it was so long ago and now it’s just a last memory to him. He hasn’t seen you in six years and the only time he ever wastes time thinking about you is when you’re brought up. He’s managed to push you so far back in his head that he’s only reminded of you when someone else mentions you and every time it happens, it hurts a little more.
Taehyung has this problem with revisiting the past anytime he’s drunk and since he met him at the same time that he met Y/n… it’s no surprise that some of those early memories had you in them. He never failed to remind Jungkook that he had felt like a child with divorced parents having to choose a side when you two broke up. Time and time again Jungkook reminds him that he could’ve gone off and been best friends with you if that’s what he really wanted but then it would end in an argument over the friendship.
Jungkook reached into the pocket of his black jeans for his pack of cigarettes and offered one to Taehyung, “So tell me about this friend.”
“She’s blonde—natural or not, I’m not sure—but she’s attractive and nice. She seems a bit extroverted, kinda bubbly so I don’t know how you’ll feel about that but I’m telling you… you’ll like her,” Taehyung said, happy to drop the current topic to go back to the original point in conversation.
He tried to listen to his friend’s description of this woman he wanted Jungkook to meet but he couldn’t. It was really all Taehyung’s fault for making him think about you and all his past relationships. He’ll admit, he’s been in quite a few and none have lasted more than a few months aside from the one with you. It was normal for yours to be the one that left the biggest impact on him but he wouldn’t say that’s why he stays away from relationships.
There might be a time here and there where Jungkook does indulge in carnal desires and sleeps with someone but they’re never anything more than that.
He’s got too much shit going on to waste time dating someone.
After a long night of hearing his friend go on and on about a woman he thinks is good for him, he returned to his loft apartment tired and alone. Like his shop, his apartment had the same cool tone to it. The walls were black and some brick, blue lights were tucked away in corners angling up toward photographic portraits he’s done in the last few years and his black 1968 Gibson Custom Les Paul Electric guitar hanging proudly in his living room. His Doberman leapt happily at the sight of his owner and he followed after Jungkook as he stepped onto his couch taking the guitar off its hooks to examine it.
To be honest, he rarely plays the guitar nowadays and it’s not because he forgot how to play or because he lost his love for it but it’s not the same anymore. Now it just sits as a reminder of who he was with when he got it and just how he got it. As if this guitar wasn’t a constant reminder of you, his dear friend felt the need to bring you up too.
It wasn’t Taehyung’s fault things happened the way they did and it’s not his fault that it fell apart for him too but… sometimes he wonders if things would have been different if Taehyung didn’t push him to date you all those years back.
For days on end all you could do was think about that stupid box. It didn’t help that you had no room for it so it remained in your living room taunting you, pressing you to play just one more video. It’s strange how you hadn’t thought about this box or Jungkook in a long time and now he’s randomly showing back up in your life without even knowing it. Honestly, it was embarrassing.
You’ve randomly begun to think about a guy you dumped when you were 20 years old and for some reason that’s starting to get to you. It was making you anxious like all of a sudden you’ve realized how much time has passed. If it wasn’t for moving out of your old apartment, you wouldn’t have even thought about this but not that you’re looking back… this was supposed to be that ending.
You were supposed to leave it all behind when you moved and instead you brought it with you to your new beginning.
“Y/n.” The man across from you called your name as you stared off in the distance. He released a small sigh, “Come on kid, you wanted to get lunch, what’s up?”
“I’m not a kid,” you told Yoongi with a glare in your eyes, “And maybe I just wanted to catch up with an old friend of mine.”
Yoongi lifted an unamused brow, “Are you calling me old or our friendship old?”
“A little bit of both,” you said with a teasing smile, taking a sip from your drink as the two of you waited for your food, “But anyway, no, I haven’t seen you in like a month and I kinda missed you.”
“Right…” Yoongi looked away, “So what have you been up to? How’s the new apartment?”
You released a sigh as Yoongi began to ask you things and tried sorting your answers in your head, “I’ve been too busy moving but the apartment is nice, a little less space than I originally thought but nothing I can’t manage.”
“And how’s the magazine?” Yoongi asked, taking a short pause to thank the server who brought your plates out, “Did you get that promotion?”
“Yes!” Your eyes widened and a smile came to your face, “I did, we’re still working on transfers but you’re looking at the new Editorial Assistant.”
“Soon to be new Editor,” Yoongi said proudly, “I can’t believe I’ve seen you grow from some emo kid who used to work for me to an adult on their way to their dream job.”
“I know,” you released a sigh at the thought of how far you’ve come. When you graduated high school you worked at a streetwear shop and you stayed there part time when you started college. It’s gotta be the best place you’ve ever worked at and the environment was always laid back. Yoongi was the one to push you and ask what you wanted to be and when you told him your plan to work at a magazine he was always right there beside you. Now at 26, you’re just a step away from Editor. It’s crazy how much can change in six years and that alone made you ask, “I know this is random but do you still talk to old employees?”
Yoongi’s brows furrowed, “I talk to you.”
“I mean beside me,” you said with a roll of your eyes as you poured yourself more water in your glass. You wanted to say this was all just out of curiosity considering he’s the one who brought up the time you worked for him but in reality… you planned on asking him this when he agreed to lunch.
“Mm, not really. I talked to Taehyung for a while after he quit but it didn’t last long,” Yoongi said as casually as ever and he looked at you with curious eyes. Your lip was pulled between your teeth and you were no longer eating, just using your silverware to play with your food and he knew you well enough to know his answer didn’t satiate your curiosity. He purposely left out any mention of him but maybe that’s what you were looking for? “I haven’t talked to Jungkook since he moved—but last I heard he came back a couple years ago and opened up a store.”
“Store?” You asked, watching your friend’s eyes widen in surprise.
“Yeah, he, y’know he opened a camera store, a couple second hand guitars too,” Yoongi said, “You didn’t know?”
You shook your head no, “When?”
“I don’t know, when he came back? Jin told me he had seen him around but I never talked to him. We didn’t keep in touch when he went back to Busan so I figured it would be weird to want to know what he’s up to now, right?” Yoongi said, unaware of the way you had tuned him out, lost in thought.
Talking about Jungkook to Yoongi felt strange because he knew the two of you in a different way than Somin did. Somin knew Jungkook because of you but you and him worked for Yoongi for two years. It’s like with Taehyung, he met you the same time he met Jungkook but the two grew closer even when you fell out. Your breakup with Jungkook was a bit of a tricky subject and you’ll take the blame for it. Back then you might’ve tried and argued that it was a mutual agreement but now that you’re older you’ll admit you were in the wrong, or maybe the things you said were wrong.
“Y/n,” Yoongi called your name, snapping your out of your state of daydream and caught your attention, “Have you really not spoken to him since the breakup? I don't remember it being that bad.”
You shrugged, “Honestly I can’t remember, a lot happened that I didn’t say and I’m sure he didn’t either so it makes sense.”
“What’s wrong?” He asked, “I can tell something is on your mind, why’d you ask who I kept in touch with? Have you been trying to contact Jungkook?”
“No,” you nearly choked on your drink, “No, I just, um, I was just curious.”
Yoongi didn’t press you for more, he could see it on your face that there was more you weren’t telling him but he didn’t want to force you to come out with it. You ended your little lunch date with plans to meet up again and went back to your respective jobs.
It wasn’t until nighttime that you found yourself thinking back to that stupid fucking box that just grabbed your attention everytime you were home. If Jimin had never wanted to play the first tape then maybe you wouldn’t have been so stuck on them but you just can’t help it anymore. They’re all you’ve been able to think about which has led you to think about Jungkook. You have not questioned him or his whereabouts in so long and this sudden interest in how he’s doing is starting to get to you.
When you got home you tried distracting yourself from them. You still had to figure out where to put them if you even want to keep them and although you think you shouldn’t… you can’t just throw them away either. It’s a memory, a cute little memory if you only watch the first few videos and you’ve moved on so they shouldn’t bother you anymore—they don’t bother you anymore. You spent part of your night finishing up a project from work, drinking a glass of wine and listening to Bloodhail by Have a Nice Life, only looking at the box every now and then.
You always preferred working in your living room because it helped you resist the urge to lay in bed but right now you can’t focus on your project and you can’t take it anymore. You took a tape out of the box and put it into Somin’s tape player, turned on the tv and the volume up just a bit as the video began to play.
․ ∘ ⊹ ✰ ┆ JJK 2 : THE SKATEPARK┆ ✰ ⊹ ∘ .
The sky was dark and you doubted anything could be seen on the camera set up beside you but neither of you seemed to care. The camera had been rolling since the store was open and you had been filming with him since but you never expected Jungkook would ask you out. Could you call this a date?
“Y/n,” Jungkook’s voice was calm and collected over the loud rock music that played in the skate park, “I’ll pull, all you have to do is try and balance.”
“I am trying,” you took a deep breath staring down at the skateboard underneath your worn out converse, “Just give me a second, alright?”
Jungkook just smiled, he took a cautious step back when you released his hands and he picked up his camera trying to make sure you were in view. Things have begun to change between you two drastically. Sure, you always did a back and forth flirting at work but lately it feels a bit more than that. You’ve been messaging every night talking about random things, sometimes talking about more meaningful things. Whenever he was near you his touch always seemed to linger and now he’s asked you out tonight—nothing serious… just feeling it out.
“Okay, okay, wait I think I got it,” you waved a hand excitedly as you called him back over. He didn’t hesitate to take your hand in his free one and aimed the camera down at your feet. He began to pull you forward, feeling your fingers lock with his when you nearly lost balance.
Jungkook was walking backwards as he helped you skate across the cement, not watching where he was going until he bumped into a ramp nearly yanking you off the board. The camera fumbled in his hand as he tried to save you instead and wrapped an arm around your waist to keep you steady. You clung to his arm, heart racing from the near fall and yet you couldn’t help but laugh as you fumbled to keep the camera safe. Since you met him you realize he had a strong tie with his camcorder and got used to his need to always be recording, you found it cute so you didn’t want something to happen to it.
He was hesitant to let you go even when you stood up comfortably, tucking your hair behind your pierced ears and biting your lip, “I need a break.”
Jungkook didn’t question it as he followed you to sit down on a grassy hill just outside the cement confines of the skatepark. He reached into his black Jansport backpack and took out a bottled water to hand to you. You smiled, taking it with a thank you and asked, “So do you come here every night you close?”
“Sometimes,” Jungkook shrugged, watching you tip your head back to drink from his water bottle, a small droplet slipping down your chin that had him reaching out a thumb to wipe, “Helps clear my head.”
“That’s nice,” you said softly thanking him, cheeks flush red, handing him back the water and watching him take a drink next, “Is that why you’re always recording too?”
Jungkook looked down at his silver camcorder that sat in the middle on the grass, “I don’t know, I find it relaxing but at the same time… it makes me anxious? I want to capture everything I experience on video because I’m scared that one day I’m not going to remember any of this. Sometimes I wonder if I’m missing out on the moment itself but then I think about right now an—no, nevermind.”
Your brows furrowed as he stared down at the people skating, eyes narrowing as he listened to the next song someone played. It was late and that definitely wasn’t a skating song but it was one of his favorites and he had to say it, “I like this song.”
Bloodhail played somewhere off in the distance and he softly hummed to the beat but you were too focused on what he never finished saying instead, “What were you going to say?”
Jungkook played with his lip ring, the beating red light from his camera recording in his peripheral as he shrugged, “It’s nothing.” There was a small pile of loose grass blades he’s pulled from the ground next to him.
He looked at you to see what you had to say but instead you just stayed silent, slightly drawn back from him and he didn’t want that. It’s not like what he was going to say was bad but… the two of you have only ever flirted. What if he said something that pushed you away? But what if he chose not to ever speak up and you got tired of waiting?
The song really was one of his favorites but he’ll admit he used that as a distraction to change the subject but he couldn’t just not answer now.
“I think about what would happen if I didn’t have my camera when I’m with you,” Jungkook confessed, laying on his bed to look up at the stars, “Would I remember everything you said? What jokes I said that made you laugh? Or even the way you looked at me? I wouldn’t want to forget these things.”
All that was heard for a good long moment was the sound of the music and muffled noises from people still around. He felt his stomach tighten, shaking his head in the grass, “Shit, sorry, that probably sounded weird.”
Your eyes met and for a second he forgot where the two of you were or that his camera was still recording at a bad angle, “What will you do when you’re done filming us?”
“Give the tapes to you, maybe keep a couple,” Jungkook answered truthfully, “They’re as much yours as they are mine.”
“But you’re the one always recording,” you told him but he just shrugged.
“Because I like it and I like you and I just want to capture every moment we have,” his words sounded more confident now as he sat up not wanting to beat around the bus anymore, “So, Y/n, will you go out with me?”
․ ∘ ⊹ ✰ ┆ THE END ┆ ✰ ⊹ ∘ .
A chill ran down your spine as the song you currently listened to matched the one that had played in a video that was seven or eight years old. As much as you’ve told yourself you’ve changed your music taste has stayed the same and the strange serenity you felt in the beginning with Jungkook never changed either.
Why were you missing him?
It was another late night at the studio, Jungkook spent more time there than at his apartment lately and tonight was no different. Although he did have plans with Taehyung and that blonde he had been telling him about, he’s not sure if he’s interested in actually going. He met her a couple nights ago and Taehyung was right, she’s great, honestly, but something didn’t click right away.
If he met up with Taehyung for this ‘double date’ that might give her the wrong idea and he doesn’t want to hurt her. If he could have her as a friend that would be best. He’s just not ready to give himself to someone when his last break up ended because of something so stupid that he just couldn’t let go.
Jungkook stood outside under a poorly lit street lamp just outside his studio as he smoked a cigarette, taking a small break from photo developing. His studio was located on a quiet street uphill, it had a simple cinderblock look and it wasn’t big but it was somewhat popular. People liked to see his photographs and he would do photoshoots, sell cameras, fix them, he did pretty much anything you could do with a camera. Business might be slow at times but it was peaceful and he made a living wage off doing something that he loved, that’s all he had ever wanted. He was content with where he is now at only 26 and his own business. He didn’t mind being single nor did he care to change that… so he decided he was going to miss out on tonight.
Once he finished his short smoking break, he put the bud out on the floor with his shoe and picked it up to dump in the trash. Just as Jungkook turned back to the door of his studio, he seemed to go still.
For a second he debated rubbing his fists into his eyes in hopes of washing away this mirage but all he managed to do was blink, speechless and frozen. You weren’t better off despite being the reason he was stuck like that and all you could do was stare at him in disbelief.
It was very obviously Jungkook, there was no mistaking it but it also looked like someone completely different in a sense. The Jungkook you dated always dressed in band tees too small for him, spiked chokers, checkered belts, the full emo scene of the time minus the side swept hair—he preferred the longish curls instead. He had a lip piercing and a belly button piercing but that was it. Now you’re looking at him and you’re seeing a man after six years realizing just how much time had passed. He had a tattoo sleeve and small gages, a lip piercing and he wore overly baggy black clothes. His hair was short and straight but it looked good on him and you can’t believe you’re admitting that to yourself right now.
“Is this JeonStudio?” You asked as calmly as you could but your voice still betrayed you at the end. You avoided his gaze, choosing instead to eye the small building somewhat proudly and awkward too. Coming here was on a whim, you had been out with friends when you got curious and searched him up. Yoongi had told you he owned a shop so it wasn’t hard to find and honestly… you didn’t expect to go in and actually see him. Imagine your surprise when he caught you standing outside slightly tipsy? “I don’t suppose you’re open at this hour.”
Jungkook just looked at you, heart racing and half tempted to smoke another cigarette due to growing anxiety but you seemed so casual and he didn’t want to overreact. It’s been too long anyway, he’s dumbfounded. He cleared his throat uncomfortably before walking to the door, not bothering to look back at you as he held it open for you to go in.
Immediately you winced at the loudness of the rock song that played, ears nearly sore from the volume as you stepped into the dark studio. Korn’s ‘Coming Undone’ played loudly as it reared its end and Jungkook left you alone for a moment to lower it back down, skipping the song in favor of listening to something by Alice In Chains. You’ll like to correct yourself; Jungkook might look slightly different because he’s older—but he still seems like the exact guy you left six years ago.
“So what can I do for you?” Jungkook’s voice sounded deeper, more manly and when he stood behind his glass counter of cameras with his hands leaning against it, silver rings on his tattooed fingers and a slight smell of nicotine, you were brought back to before. He let his gaze travel over you in half surprise and half amazement.
Just seeing you after having you stuck in his head for a couple weeks now was a surprise, but to see how you’ve changed? He was amazed. It’s not that you were a completely different person but… wow you’ve grown. You no longer wore your ripped fishnets or beaten Converse and Dr. Martens. Your hair wasn’t in knots and your makeup wasn’t smudged or messy like you did it in the back of a bus on your way to work.
You looked… you looked good, like a matured version of yourself who wasn’t shy to show small hints at what you used to be like.
“I just…” you trailed off looking around the room, “I heard you had your own shop an—“
“And?” Jungkook asked with a firm expression making you look back at him, “I’ve had it for a couple years now, why the sudden interest, Y/n?”
He acted cold and it was a bit of a surprise and you scolded yourself for thinking that. It’s not like you expected him to be all smiles seeing you again. God, why did you come? It felt like one second you’re leaving your friend’s movie night to go home and next you’re standing outside of his studio as he smokes.
Maybe you’ll just leave before you do anything embarrassing.
Jungkook watched you with a blank expression but he would be lying if he said his heart wasn’t racing as he watched you look around. He stood behind the glass case of cameras where the register was at and waited for you to say something.
The changes were subtle but there was no way he could miss them. The biggest was of course your fashion style now, it was different yet he could still pick up hints of how you used to dress. You still preferred black shoes and silver jewelry. Your hair was styled differently now but it still suited you perfectly, you still had your nose pierced and your nails painted.
Something that didn’t change was that familiar sparkle in your eyes when you were curious and right now he could see it as you did a 360 of his studio. He didn’t notice the way his finger began to tap anxiously against the glass waiting to see what you would say about it. He wasn’t looking to impress you or anything but…
“All of these are yours?” You asked as you stepped closer to a portrait on the wall with blue and black hues. Your gaze never shifted away from the portrait so he was forced to give you a verbal response, “Most, some are Taehyung’s.”
At the mention of your old friend you seemed to freeze up a little, “How is he?”
Jungkook couldn’t hold back a scoff as he crossed his arms over his chest, “He’s great, thanks for asking, don’t you want to ask how I am?”
Once again his slight attitude caught you off guard but you weren’t going to let it bring you down, you’ve come this far in your reconciliation. Your eyes narrowed as they met his glare and you rebutted, “I was getting there, jeez.”
This time around it was his turn to be surprised when you rolled your eyes and he hated that the corner of his lips threatened to turn upward in amusement. You finally quit looking at everything but him and turned in his direction like you were finally going to say something only for you to look up in search of the speakers that played a song you remembered he liked. Pink Maggit by Deftones started off slow and quietly but slowly raised volume that Jungkook had to lower it down a little more. He pretended not to notice his ringing phone that buzzed on the counter with Taehyung’s name displayed—probably wondering where he was.
“I don’t know if this holds meaning but I love this place,” you said and a shaky breath he hadn’t realized he was holding slipped out.
“Thanks,” Jungkook said with a huff.
“Seriously Jungkook,” you stood in front of the counter now, “It’s like everything you’ve ever wanted.”
“It is,” he agreed, studying you and falling silent.
The longer he stayed thinking the harder it became to hold himself back and this time, more gentle and calm, he asked, “Y/n, why are you here?”
His phone lit up once more and he flipped it to face down and waited for you to respond. You were quiet for a moment as you tried gathering your thoughts and in the end you found yourself sitting alone in his studio with him confessing about the tapes.
There was a slight tension in the air that seemed to blur out the background noise of the restaurant’s chaos. He felt it but he pretended like he didn’t as he looked at his menu, not sure what to order or if he was even hungry.
“Yuna thinks you’re not interested,” was one of the first things Taehyung said to him as the two met up for dinner one night. Jungkook had already expected his friend to have something to say about the other night when he ditched their plans because something unexpected happened but… but he hadn’t processed what Taehyung had said until it was too late.
“Who?” Jungkook asked absentmindedly, unaware of the glare Taehyung sent him that had him snapping back into realization, “Oh… Oh! Yuna? Yeah, sorry about that.”
“I mean it’s whatever to me but the two of you were really hitting it off,” Taehyung said with a shrug that had Jungkook rolling his eyes.
“Come on, we’ve met once and I was drunk,” Jungkook said, “She’s cute but… I don’t know.”
He ignored the way Taehyung’s eyes seemed to narrow suspiciously, “You don’t know? You seemed to be pretty good talking to her over drinks and now you don’t know? What made you ditch out on me anyway?”
Jungkook cleared his throat awkwardly, “Something came up—“
“No!” Taehyung groaned, “Don’t give me that bullshit. What was it?”
There was a slight pause in the conversation as the server came to take their orders but Taehyung just ushered them away to come back later. Jungkook ran his fingers through his hair, seeming exhausted before saying, “Nothing, honestly, just…”
“Just?”
“Y/n came to the studio.”
Silence filled the space between the two again as Taehyung stared at him dumbfounded. Jungkook couldn’t even think of anything to respond with either so they just sat there feeling the tension grow thicker by the second. After a while, Taehyung released a nervous chuckle and sighed, “Alright, for a second I thought you were being serious. Come up with a better excuse ne—“
“I’m being serious,” Jungkook said and Taehyung was finally able to see the small difference in his friend. His hair was a bit messier and he looked tired but he didn’t look bad he just looked different. “I was working late and you were blowing up my phone to get me to meet up with you guys but there I am smoking a stupid cigarette and she’s standing there like nothing ever happened asking if it’s open!”
“Shit,” Taehyung listened, “So what happened? That’s it? Did you talk? What did you talk about?”
“She asked about you,” Jungkook said with a roll of his eyes, “Then worried about me later but, she still had the tapes.”
“What tapes?”
“The tapes,” Jungkook didn’t care to clarify because his friend should know exactly what he is talking about. It took Taehyung a moment but realization dawned on him and he gasped, “All of the movies you made with her?”
“Yes,” Jungkook said, “I-I had forgotten all about them, honestly but then she comes along telling me she was moving and a friend of hers found them and they made her curious a—fuck, it’s so weird seeing her again.”
“Did Y/n change?” Taehyung asked, watching Jungkook nod his head. Jungkook really did look exhausted like he’s been thinking about this nonstop.
“So much but like… at the same time, it’s still Y/n,” Jungkook said with a small hint of a smile, “She’s still got the same look in her eye and her smile is still the same. I don’t know, we talked about the tapes but that’s really it an—“
“So go talk to her, even if it’s just to catch up,” Taehyung tried saying, half expecting his friend to reject the idea the way he’s rejected anything that had to do with you so to hear that he ditched him because you showed up out of the blue… he wants to know what this means.
In truth, Taehyung cared a lot about you both despite not being friends with you anymore. The three of you met at an impressionable age in your young adult years so it’s hard for him to act like he didn’t care about you two. You would hang out at the skatepark, record stupid videos, do stupid things at work, and you had been one of his best friends. To even hear that you asked about him made him feel good because there’s been so many times when he’s debated just picking up the phone and calling you but never brought himself to do it.
“You think I should talk to Y/n?” Jungkook asked as the server came back once more to ask if they were ready yet but once again Taehyung asked for another minute. He nodded his head, “I think… the two of you didn’t end terribly and if she came to find you then it wouldn’t hurt to talk. I know that it’s been six years and you don’t care anymore [ you’ve said that so many times now ] but personally I would want to see the tapes.”
Jungkook’s leg began to bounce anxiously under the table as he gnawed on his lip ring in thought. “So I should see Y/n?”
“I think so,” Taehyung said with a small smirk, “Or do you really not care because it’s been six years?”
There was a mocking undertone in his voice that Jungkook chose to ignore as he suddenly rose to his feet making his decision abrupt. Taehyung didn’t even bother stopping him as he left him behind in the restaurant, he just found it amusing. When the server came back to check if they were still not ready, Taehyung apologized for wasting their time and left them a tip before leaving too.
It has been six years, that thought hasn’t slipped Jungkook’s mind yet but that’s why he’s so confused. It’s been so long and you dumped him so for you to reach back out to him suddenly telling him you still have the tapes… don’t you realize how that can mess with his head? He’s over you, you’re over him so why would you do that? He has to know and that’s why he called the number you gave him the other night and asked to meet up.
When he got to your apartment building he was a bit taken back by the size of it. Compared to the small shoebox the two of you lived together in once upon a time, this was big and spacious. The inside was honestly what he expected. There was a record player in the corner with some old vinyls he knew you had: Deftones’ Around the Fur, Nirvana’s In Utero, Flyleaf’s Flyleaf, etc. You had a couple dead houseplants in various shades of dark green but no flowers, you seemed to still like the color black and you liked your bands and horror movies. On your coffee table was an arrangement of magazines all from the same publication and a drawing board next to it.
“Do you want anything to drink?” You asked from the kitchen, nervous to see him looking around so curiously. It was strange to have him here at your new place after claiming you were leaving the past in the past. Clearly that had been a lie because you’re the reason he’s here right now, you’re the one who reached out to him so you have no right to feel weird about him calling you tonight.
“Just water,” Jungkook mumbled to himself as his eyes casted down on the rundown box that he had been trying oh-so-desperately to avoid. It was shut but not well and the tape player laid next to it connected to the TV. He was itching to go through the tapes but he was also scared of what he would find on them.
Instead, he walked over to your record player looking through the various vinyls to see if he could play one. You’ve had the same player for years, it’s one he bought with you so he was well used to it and for some reason, he didn’t hesitate to go to it and play something himself like he used to. He chose a Deftones album and ‘Sextape’ began to play just in time for you to come to him with a glass of water looking at him curiously.
“Sorry,” Jungkook said once he realized he had subconsciously done what he used to do anytime he came over to your place, “Force of habit?”
It was stupid that a habit he had six years ago was coming back to him but for some reason seeing you again was making him realize how much the two of you used to love each other. He doesn’t think he has feelings for you still but he did miss you and he’ll never deny that.
Okay, false, he denied it all the time to Taehyung but that was then. He thought he would never see you again and if he did it was just in passing and that you would barely acknowledge him but that’s not what happened and he couldn’t help but miss you. If only he knew you felt the same but he always struggled to read you.
“It’s alright,” you said, moving to sit on the couch with his glass on the table letting him come join you. He sat down with a foot or two of space in between and looked around making you smile. You didn’t mean to smile but he just seemed so curious and intrigued by everything in here and as he looked around you looked at him.
God, he looked different. Last time you didn’t get a good look at his tattoos but right now you’re taking them all in with interest. Back then he would go on and on about all the tattoos he would get and now that he has them, you’ll admit he looks so good. He seemed to be doing so well for himself and that made you feel happy to see him doing what he always wanted to do. The confidence just radiated off him when before he was always a bit more insecure.
Not even just in his future plans but his looks too and now you’re noticing how buff he’s gotten. His arms and shoulders were huge and he looked intimidating, you’re sure if the 18 year old Jungkook saw what he looked like now, he wouldn’t believe it.
“How many have you watched?” Jungkook finally asked in regards of the tapes and for a second you forgot that’s why he came and it wasn’t just to catch up.
“A few, not all of them though,” you confessed looking at the box, “Some are hard to watch.”
He didn’t need you to elaborate to know what you were talking about. Toward the end of your relationship, there wasn’t a time Jungkook wasn’t recording you too and unfortunately that meant he caught a few rough moments on video. He developed them on tapes because he didn’t want to waste them and when he had given them to you he was mad and wanted to be petty so he gave them all but now he wishes he didn’t.
He realizes now that he’s not mad about the past. You dumped him because you were going to school and Jungkook wanted to go back to Busan with no real plan for his future. You worked so well together but it was so obvious that you reached a point where you wanted different things and you’re the one who had the guts to end it. Of course at the time it destroyed him but now that he’s grown from it, he can’t be mad anymore.
“Do you want me to play one?” You asked once he fell silent for too long. Jungkook bit his lip nervously before nodding his head shyly. You left his side to go set everything up and he just watched you feeling anxious. He hasn’t seen these tapes in six years and he’s not sure what to expect.
․ ∘ ⊹ ✰ ┆ JJK 21: THE ARGUMENT ┆ ✰ ⊹ ∘ .
The video started with a view of a snake terrarium in your old bedroom. It belonged to Jungkook but when he moved in with you, he brought it with and it stayed. It was red and warm with a small snake hiding in its cave but it was pretty and the two of you used to pass time staring at it with curiosity. There was a soft rock song playing in the background but it was muffled by your voices.
In truth, Jungkook had forgotten he was recording.
“So you’re going back to Busan?” Your voice was a bit groggy and low like you were scared to raise your voice too much. It was late and the two of you had spent most of your time at some manga store after work and have just now gotten home. You’ve been quiet since you had dinner and this is the first thing you’ve said to him since.
Jungkook was in a small Korn band tee that didn’t cover his full waist and showed a bit of his belly button piercing but he never really cared how his clothes fit him. His black jeans were always baggy and torn and his beanies always flattened his hair. He used to have a certain look that drew everyone’s attention even when he didn’t want it.
“Come with me,” Jungkook said in his deep tone, “I know it’s sudden, Y/n, but I don’t want to leave you, I don’t care if it’s not that far.”
“So why leave at all?” You asked, sitting down on bed avoiding his gaze, “You can do whatever you want here, why do you want to go back?”
Jungkook stayed quiet for a moment as he thought about it, “I don’t know, I don’t feel at home.”
You didn’t say anything as you sat on the edge of the bed staring at the wall to avoid looking at him. He hasn’t forgotten that you haven’t answered him yet, “Come with me.”
“I don’t know,” you admitted after some time contemplating, “What would we do?”
“We can stay with my brother for a while, find a job and start working,” Jungkook offered excitedly as he dropped down to his knees in front of you, making sure your attention was on him and not the ground, “We’ll find a place together.”
“What about school?” You asked. You’ve got about a year left, if that, and you can’t just move somewhere else and register all over again. You’ve got internships lined up and the right connections here. You have plans.
Jungkook’s brows furrowed, “You can transfer, it’s not hard, right? Just think about it Y/n, just you and me. We don’t have to worry about your family or anything else.”
“I can’t.”
For a second he wondered if you said anything at all because it was so quiet but when you looked up at him apologetically, he asked, “Why not?”
“I can’t just pick up everything and leave with you Jungkook,” you told him, slightly bothered by the fact that he didn’t understand that, “I’ve got plans that don’t involve me moving to Busan with a boy I’ve dated for a little over a year and who I probably won’t even be with for long.”
“What?” His face hardened as he listened to you, “You don’t want to be with me?”
“I didn’t say that,” you sighed, “I’m sorry, that’s not how I meant it, I just…”
“Just what, Y/n? Because last night we were talking about spending forever together and now you’re saying we won’t be together for long?” Jungkook said with a scoff as he stood up, his camera completely pushed to the back of his mind.
You ran your hand over your face with worry, “That was before you told me you want to move back to Busan,” you said honestly, “I don’t want to go anywhere, if you want to go and start over somewhere else then do it but you can’t just ask me to change everything I’ve had planned just so I could follow you. You don’t even have a real plan to go back. It might not feel like home to you here, Jungkook, but it does for me and it’s not fair that you can just ask me to pack up and leave when we’ve got nothing going on.”
“We have each other,” Jungkook’s voice was softer because he sounded hurt, “Isn't that enough?”
“For you, maybe, but not for me,” you argued coldly, “I can’t change my life for you.”
Jungkook stood there seemingly frozen as you got up from the bed, pushing past him and locking yourself in the bathroom away from him. He wasn’t sure what to think right now other than this was the first argument the two of you have ever had. It was an argument, right?
What even happened? You had spent such an amazing day together, he picked you up after your last class and you went out to eat. You went to a park where he played a song for you on the guitar you bought him and the two of you had been laughing all day. It felt so sweet until the moment he mentioned Busan and suddenly you had grown distant.
Suddenly you were saying the two of you wouldn’t last, is that true?
“Y/n?” You could hear Jungkook call for you with a small knock on the door, “Babe, can we talk?”
“I don’t want to,” you sniffled, “I just want to be alone right now.”
Jungkook pulled away from the door feeling dejected and blown off. He ran his fingers through his messy hair anxiously and looked around your shared bedroom for his things. He’ll just give you time to yourself and maybe later you could think things through again.
As he looked for his phone and keys, his eyes landed on the camcorder that captured the moment his snake left its cafe to curl up against a small log. He picked the camera up curiously, eyes widening as he saw it was recording.
․ ∘ ⊹ ✰ ┆ THE END ┆ ✰ ⊹ ∘ .
Jungkook sat there as still as ever, staring at the screen with glossy eyes as he watched the frozen image of himself pick up his camera—realizing he left it on. He looked down at his glass of water, feeling his throat become dry as he brought it to his lips, hand shaking.
Although it was six years ago and he had not thought about it once… seeing this video just brought him back to that day. It wasn’t the only argument the two of you had but he must’ve learned his lesson and kept the camera off. Later on the two of you argued and you said some hurtful things to him that you later apologized for but it didn’t make him feel any different.
That was the moment he realized maybe the relationship really would not have lasted long.
“Jungkook,” your voice was so soft now, slightly deeper and more mature but anytime you said his name it made his head spin nonetheless like he still couldn’t believe it.
When he looked up at you, you’re not sure what you had expected but it definitely wasn’t the sight of his reddened eyes as he took jagged breaths trying to calm his racing heart.
It’s just… back then he had been struck with such limerence that all he could think about was the two of you together anyway it could be. Sometimes it didn’t even matter if you weren’t sexually intimate, just knowing someone loved him and wanted him was enough and when you broke up with him… it hurt. It hurt really fucking bad and this video reminded him a bit of how that felt.
“I kept some tapes too,” he finally admitted, clearing his throat and changing the subject in hopes that you wouldn’t see how he was feeling. He circled the rim of his glass with his index finger as he looked down at his lap to avoid your soft gaze. A smile came to his face as he scoffed, “Um, this is kinda embarrassing to admit but… the last person I dated dumped me because I wouldn’t throw them away.”
“Because of the memories?” You asked quietly and he nodded. That’s how Jungkook was, once he told you how he never wanted to forget anything no matter how it made him feel and in this case he wanted to remember you no matter what happened and in a sense you had been the same. You wanted to keep the tapes because being with him had felt like home to you and you never wanted to leave it behind even if you said you were over it.
Watching them again was making you realize how much you needed Jungkook at the time and how much he had needed you. Maybe you still need him and it took you this long to admit that, knowing he couldn’t let you go either was like a slap in the face after the things you said to him.
The amount of times you argued that you had a future planned that didn’t need him in it only because you were heading toward different directions in life. Where Jungkook was more laidback, you were uptight and that had not been a good mix then. You told him you couldn’t just sit around in Busan and only have what the two of you had to rely on because one day he might decide he doesn’t need you anymore and throw you away after you changed your life for him. In the end, things happened in reverse and you wish you could just take it all back.
“Y/n—“
Jungkook went quiet as the soft buzz of a phone ringing cut him off and he was thankful. He didn’t even know what he planned on telling you and that scared him. Would he tell you that he missed you or that he thinks it would be best to never speak again?
You both looked down at your phone screen as it sat on the coffee table with a picture of you and Jimin smiling happily as he called. Your gaze shifted to Jungkook, “What were you going to say?”
The call came to an end and your attention was on him but he didn’t want to speak anymore and before he could tell you it didn’t matter, this stranger called again. He cleared his throat, “Um, you should answer that, it’s late anyway and we’ve both got work tomorrow. If you ever want to talk again… maybe we can, you have my number but I should go.
Your brows furrowed, shaking your head no as he set the glass down next to your ringing phone and stood up suddenly, “Jungkook, wai—“
He didn’t stop till he was out the door running his fingers through his hair, feeling exhausted and unsure of himself.
Watching that video reminded him that the two of you broke up for a reason and it had been valid at the time. It has been the right decision too even if it hurt and although it felt like a ‘Right Person Wrong Time’ moment, there’s nothing to do now and there’s no point in dwelling on the past.
He’s moved on.
Just as you debated following him out, your phone rang once more and with a dejected sigh, you answered, “What do you want?!”
“Whoa, chill on the attitude I’ve been trying to get you to answer because I have a serious question,” Jimin said on the other end of the line. Your face softened as you grew curious and worried “What is it?”
“Am I a gold or silver jewelry type of guy?” Jimin asked as he held up two matching bracelets in thought. You went quiet on your end and he raised a curious brow only to wince at the second your voice rose a couple octaves.
“Are you fucking serious right now?” You groaned, throwing yourself back on your couch annoyed that Jungkook left in such a hurry because Jimin had been blowing up your phone.
“Dead serious.”
Click.
“Hello?” Jimin spoke to himself hearing the line end, “Did you hang up on me?”
The end of the week came quicker than you had expected and yet time felt to slow down for you too. Ever since Jungkook came to your apartment and watched that video with you, you haven’t been able to stop thinking about it. The look in his eyes had captured your attention more than the video had but when he left without finishing what he was going to say… that’s when you got caught up. He used to always do that to you, he would start to say something and then try and push it away so he should know by now that you would think about it.
You just can’t help but wonder what he was going to say and it’s been eating at you for days.
“Y/n, can you pretend to listen to me?” Jimin asked as he bumped his wine glass again at yours to get your attention.
“What?” You asked looking up at your two friends who stared at you with confusion, “Sorry.”
Somin’s brows furrowed, “What’s up with you? You haven’t even touched your food.”
Your plate sat there barely eaten while theirs had been cleared out. You seemed to have forgotten where you were and it wasn’t until now that you looked around to see the three of you were still sitting in a dimly lit booth having an extremely late dinner on a Saturday night.
“Nothing, I’ve just been… y'know,” you shrugged, lifting up your silverware in hopes of finding the motivation to finish your meal. You bit your lip anxiously, your friends watching you made you nervous and it was very apparent. You haven’t told them about seeing Jungkook again but you’re not sure what they would make of it and that’s the only thing that has stopped you. You’re not sure what you even make of it, much less what they would think but you’re starting to realize maybe you need a second opinion.
“I met with Jungkook,” you finally said and despite the loudness of the restaurant, your table seemed to fall silent as they both looked at you.
“When?”
“Well, the first time, a couple weeks ago,” you said honestly, “The last time… two nights ago.”
They shared a look with each other that you had no desire to learn the meaning of before Jimin asked, “This is the ex boyfriend, right? The VCR tapes boyfriend?”
“That’s the one,” you said awkwardly, “We watched a tape the other night, it wasn’t a good one but… I don’t know.”
“You mean you invited him over?” Somin asked, making you shake your head no and she continued, “He just showed up? So did he find you first?”
“Nope, I looked for him,” you told them, hiding your face in your hands, “I’m so stupid. I shouldn’t have done that.”
“Why?” Jimin asked, “Did you two argue?”
“No,” you told him, “No, we didn’t… it’s just…”
“It’s just now you can’t stop thinking about him,” Somin said instead of asked and you nodded your head yes. She released a sigh, “It’s been six years, Y/n.”
“I know,” you groaned letting your head fall into your hands further, “That’s why I’m so confused.”
“But was he mad or anything?” Jimin asked.
“No.”
“Then why don’t you try and talk to him?” He went on making you look at him.
“And tell him what?”
“That maybe you should start over—“
“No!” Somin said, “No, it’s been too long. Do you honestly think Jungkook would want that? All they did was talk, it just doesn’t make sense. It’s not like he's been waiting six years to hear from Y/n.”
You had to agree with her, you have no idea what Jungkook thinks about all this if he even does.
Not far from where you were with your friends was a packed street filled with nightlife and club goers all getting into their Saturday night and he was amongst them. He rarely chooses to come out for drinks and loud music unless it’s with his friends and this time was no different. After spending the past forty eight hours practically shut in his shop, Taehyung finally got him to come out to meet with the girls from last time.
Although he had sworn off meeting with Yuna again so he wouldn’t lead her on… he found himself doing it anyway. He just needed a distraction, you’re all he’s been able to think about and it wasn’t good for him. He couldn’t think about you like this.
You were his ex-girlfriend from so long ago and though meeting with you reminded him little by little of how well you used to be together… he can’t get over the fact that you left him. You left him when he needed you and that should have been the end of it. That had been the end of it. He had gone to Busan and you went your own way, when he came back to Seoul he only thought about you every now and then like when Taehyung would bring you up… or when he would remember the tapes… or listen to Deftones… or look at the guitar you gave him…
Maybe he did think about you frequently but not as frequent as this and he didn’t like it. You’ve been a constant in his mind since he first saw you standing under a street lamp not far from him asking if his studio was open. You’ve been a constant in his mind since he first ever met you too and it’s not fair that after you left him you get to come back and try to reconcile as friends.
“Want a smoke?” Taehyung asked his friend after he realized Jungkook had gone quiet for too long even when Yuna tried to ask him things. He didn’t give a verbal response, only nodded his head and began walking out of the packed club in hopes of more room to breathe.
Taehyung didn’t hesitate to reach into his pack of cigarettes and hand one to Jungkook watching his friend take it gladly and search his pockets for a lighter. He lit the end and did the same for Taehyung, looking up at the sky and attempting to tune out the loudness of the club behind him.
“So what’s up?” Taehyung asked, “You agreed to come out tonight but you seem out of it. Yuna’s been asking you questions nonstop and you’ve barely batted an eye at her.”
“I don’t know,” Jungkook took a drag of the cigarette, blowing it out shortly after with a shrug of his shoulders, “I’ll tell her I’m not feeling good or something.”
Taehyung didn’t say anything for a moment as he studied his best friend, finally asking, “Did you end up seeing Y/n?”
When Jungkook didn’t immediately react, Taehyung knew the answer. He flicked ash off the end of his cigarette and asked, “The night we had dinner?”
“Yeah,” Jungkook said, avoiding his friend’s gaze, “She didn’t ask about you this time, sorry.”
Taehyung just shrugged, knowing his friend was trying to lighten the growing tension but he didn’t care. He asked, “So then what did you talk about?”
“Not much,” Jungkook cleared his throat, a cloud of smoke covering his vision for a moment as he moved to the side to let a group of drunks through, “We watched one of the tapes though.”
“Which one?”
“It was an argument. I think it was when I first brought up Busan,” Jungkook admitted, kicking a rock with the tip of his black combat boot.
Taehyung nodded understandingly, “That’s it?”
“Pretty much, I left because some guy kept calling her,” Jungkook said, “I wasn’t sure if it was her boyfriend or not.”
Taehyung released a scoff, “You couldn’t have asked?”
“Why would it matter to me if it was?” Jungkook asked, “We’re exes for a reason, right?”
“And what was the reason, Jungkook?” Taehyung asked with a slightly harsher tone at his friend’s nonchalance, “Because you wanted her to follow you somewhere new and she didn’t want to. You’re back now, there’s no reason to not talk anymore so why didn’t you ask?”
“It won’t change anything,” Jungkook argued, annoyed by his friend’s need to always make him think about you when he didn’t want to, “So why bother?”
“Because it’s Y/n!” Taehyung said, “I get it, I really do. It’s been so long since you dated and it might not mean shit now but it did then and that’s never going to change no matter how hard you try and lie to yourself about it. And if it really didn’t matter anymore then you wouldn’t be out here tonight trying to forget seeing her again.”
“I went to see her because you told me to,” Jungkook said through gritted teeth.
“No,” Taehyung scoffed, “You went to see her because you wanted to, I just gave you the final push.”
“Nothing’s going to change thinking about her,” Jungkook said, “She’s a new person, so am I.”
“But on the inside you’re both still those same kids who ran away from home only to find it in each other again,” Taehyung said with a softer tone, “Come on man, I hate this sappy shit but open your eyes and realize that your home has always been with Y/n, that’s why you came back.”
“You’re wrong,” Jungkook glared at the ground, a lump forming in his throat, “She dumped me, she didn’t need me—“
“That’s not true and you know it, you grew apart because you wanted different things at the time but what about now?” Taehyung asked, “Y/n looked for you—I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want to make you mad talking about it but Yoongi called me a few weeks back—right before you told me she went to the studio. Who do you think told her you were back?”
Jungkook didn’t say anything as he watched his cigarette burn on its own. He remembers when you went and you talked about the tapes but he didn’t have the courage to ask how you knew where he worked or that he had moved back. He should have asked but did it matter?
The muffled sound of music and chatter blurred out the silence that had grown between the two friends and Taehyung knew Jungkook had nothing to say. When a phone began to ring and the chest pocket of Jungkook’s black plaid flannel lit up with the outline of a screen and Taehyung didn’t have to ask to know who that might be. He dropped his cigarette on the floor to put it out with his shoe before placing an encouraging hand on his friend’s shoulder and leaving him outside alone.
For a moment Jungkook debated following him back into the dark nightclub and pretending like he was having the time of his life with Yuna but he knew he wouldn’t. He reached into his pocket and answered the call without another wasted second of hesitation, “Hello?”
“Jungkook, hey?” Your voice sounded a bit hoarse and he could hear noise behind you, “Are you, um, bu—do you have a moment?”
Jungkook looked up at the moon, taking a deep breath coming to terms with the fact that he’s afraid to open himself up to you again even if it’s just as acquaintances, “I’m not busy.”
“Really?” You asked slightly surprised, “Well, I—I was wondering if maybe you… um… maybe you wanted to meet me somewhere? O-or if, y’know you’re home… maybe I could come over to talk about us? My friend interrupted us last time and I feel like a lot of things went unsaid.”
You mentally cringed at yourself for sounding so nervous but what else was there to be expected? If you didn’t tell Jungkook how you felt now then maybe it’ll be another six years before you get to do it again—or worse, you won’t get another chance.
Jungkook looked around for the street sign as if he could imagine the distance he is from your place, “Where are you?”
Your heart seemed to raise, “I’m out with friends downtown but I can leave right no—“
“Where downtown?” He asked, walking just a bit away from the club entrance, listening to you tell him the street, “I’m a couple blocks down from there, at Club X.”
“Club X?” You asked and for a moment he debated telling you he was just with Taehyung but you quickly said, “Don’t move, I’ll walk.”
“Y/n, wai—“
Click.
Jungkook ran his fingers through his hair nervously, looking around once more knowing he should just stay put but you told him where you were too and the thought of just standing here waiting for you to arrive didn’t sit well with him. It would be too long of a wait and if he waits any longer he’s scared he’ll back out from wanting to see you too… so he ran.
You left your friends without much thought to how they felt about it, you paid your bill and left them just like that, practically running out the door. Before Jungkook could reject your proposal you hung up on him and that meant that if he didn’t want to see you then he would be leaving soon and you had to get to him before he did. You just needed to be honest.
Your feet ached from the heels you wore but that didn’t stop you from running down the uneven sidewalk, bumping into people on your way and checking for traffic whenever you crossed a street.
You wanted to be with him again, or at least try to be even if it was just as friends. It didn’t even have to be romantically [even if all the romantic feelings you had for him came back], you’ll take whatever he gives you as long as you know that he might feel the same. That’s all you want to know, that he might feel the same so you ran to him.
Jungkook was out of breath but he moved at a quicker pace than you did, running so fast he nearly dropped the person that bumped into him but he caught them before they could fall and held them by the arm, “Sorry.”
You stopped, tightening your hold on his forearm in shock, “Jungkook?”
He nearly stumbled as he froze on the spot, looking down at the person he bumped into on his way to you and his heart raced, “Y/n.”
“Jungkook, I—I told you to wait,” you stuttered as the two of you stood there at the end of a crosswalk ignoring all the people that passed you, “I—it’s about us, I wanted to see you—“
“Y/n,” he repeated your name, eyes scanning your face for any sign that you might regret asking to meet him but he found none. Before he could stop himself, his hands had made their way to your jaw, pulling you closer and it was all you needed to see to throw your arms around his neck and drag him down to meet your lips with his.
Jungkook didn’t hesitate to kiss you back with as much need and desire as you had and let his eyes shut, relishing in the feel of your soft lips that he had forgotten the taste of. The small kiss had been everything he missed, so soft and tender yet there was no mistaking the intense longing in each languid movement of your tongue with his that he nearly forgot where the two of you were till a car was honking annoyingly at the public display of affection—egging it on.
You pulled back with a pant, trying to catch your breath as your eyes ran along his face trying to understand his expression, hands sliding down to his ribs unsure if you should hold him or not. There was a lot you wanted to say but right now you wanted to feel him like this more, “Where?”
Jungkook bit his lip, breathing heavily through his nose as he slid his hand into yours and pulled you toward the street raising a hand to call a cab, “Mine.”
He was also aware that the two of you needed to talk and he planned on doing that but first… first he just needed to have you in his arms again. He just needed to feel you want him back one more time before the weight of whatever the two of you talked about came crashing down and there was no going back. It’s been six years of not being with you, you would think any ounce of romantic attraction would be gone and yet every time he remembered you or thought about you, it hit him harder than before and he spent the cab ride kissing you like he would never get the chance again—and he might not.
When you got to his house, you didn’t get a chance to look around when Jungkook was dragging you back into his arms, kicking the front door shut and kissing you.
“We’ll talk after,” you said more to yourself than to him when he yanked off his unbuttoned flannel, walking you backwards down a hall.
“After,” Jungkook repeated, breathless as he pulled away to kiss down your neck, placing soft kisses along your jaw and down your jugular. You craned yourself back to give him more room and dunk your fingers into his short black hair. He let his hands roam down your body, memorizing the feel of you under his fingertips once more and gripping your sides as you released a small gasp when the back of your knees hit a bed and you were falling back. His hands went to your back feeling along the material of your short black dress he hadn’t had a chance to admire and gently touched your ass, making you breathless before you felt his fingers slip under the hem further to feel along your spine, pulling the dress up until you were taking it off.
“It’s been so long,” he whispered softly between small kisses along your shoulder blade, letting you fall back on the bed in nothing but your underwear and bra. He sat back on his knees, staring down at you with glossy eyes. God, he missed you so much. He missed everything about you from your body to the way you used to softly run your fingers through his hair.
Six years.
Six years without seeing you laying down underneath him sliding a finger between the valley of your breasts teasingly, reaching behind you to take it off. He watched, nearly hypnotized by the way you slowly revealed all of yourself to him, saying, “Too long, I’ve almost forgotten how you feel.”
Jungkook licked his lips looking down at your bare chest, sinking down to lower his head until his nose lightly brushed against your soft skin making you wither just a little.
“I’ll fix that,” he whispered, eyes meeting yours and pressing a light kiss on your exposed breast, warm breath tickling you and making you bite your lip with anticipation.
“I want to see you,” your voice was as soft as his had been and he couldn’t help but sigh in content, nodding his head and pulling back to undress. He yanked off the black t-shirt he had worn under his flannel and kicked off his black denim jeans throwing them off somewhere on the floor near his snake terrarium that produced a red light—a huge contrast to the blue hue of light the rest of his apartment showed. When he sat bare between your parted legs you took in the sight of him.
His tattoos danced across his skin with every flex of his arms and it was all so new to you that you wanted to memorize it all. You reached your hands out hesitant to touch him, and heard a quiet gasp come from between his lips when your hands ran over his chest feeling every ridge of abdomen muscle, until you touched the top ball of his belly button piercing—surprised he still had it. His muscles tightened, feeling your fingertip slide back up until you were tracing the patterns of ink on his arm and shoulder.
"Y/n," Jungkook said your name with such tenderness that you stopped and looked up immediately, watching him hover over you and lower his mouth to the expanse of your neck sucking on your skin lightly. You bit your lip with want feeling his kisses moving lower, kissing along your collarbone. You ran your hands along his back when his tongue licked down to the valley of your breasts, tracing circles around your hardened nipple teasingly, bringing one into his mouth and sucking gently. The tip of his tongue flicked at your bud before capturing the whole thing in his mouth and licking the end, hands running along your sides to keep your body in place.
He kept this up for some time that all you could do was lay there and attempt to catch your breath as he memorized himself with your body again. It wasn’t just your breasts that got attention, he kissed your ribs and stomach, down your arms and along your neck. When he kissed along your navel toward your pelvis, his rough fingertips played with the hem of your panties until you were lifting your hips enough for him to slip them off you, leaving you just as nude as he.
“I missed this,” he said hoarsely, hands sliding down your inner thighs until he was slowly pulling them apart and fixing himself comfortably between them, “I don’t think you realize how much.”
He didn’t even realize how much he had missed—he didn’t allow himself to and now that he’s done it, it’s all he could focus on.
“I missed you too,” your tone was soft yet he could feel the emotion through it and it made him pause for a moment, debating if this was a confession or not and if he should stop so the two of you could talk.
He hadn't even touched you in the place you needed him most and yet you were on edge already. It’s not like you had expected to even kiss—much less this—that you found yourself already aroused but it felt so good to have him touch you again. After so much time apart, your body still reacted to him the way it used to and part of that scared you to admit.
"Jungkook," you licked your lips when his hair tickled against your cunt meaning he was getting closer. He hummed in response. Your voice was dry as you asked, "Condom?" It took him a second to pull away looking you in the eye as he sat back. Realization hit him like a truck as he stared down at your naked body then his, painfully aware of his hardened member and how quickly you had made him like this with only some kissing and teasing. He shook his head, "I don't—"
You sat up enough to pull him down and kiss him again, wanting nothing more but for this to continue whether you had a condom or not. “I don’t care, if you don’t.”
It didn’t take him long to understand what you meant and with the way your tongue kissed his, he couldn’t deny you even if he wanted to. Before, he used to take his time with you, making sure he satisfied all your needs with his tongue or fingers—whatever you wanted and he had subconsciously decided to do that tonight too. The only difference is that it’s been too long to take his time, he needed you now.
Your eyes ran over his body, still in disbelief with the sight of him above you, watching his hand slide down his toned stomach to his aching member. He stroked the tip of his cock softly, in search of some release as he let you take all the time you needed to watch him. The room was quiet aside from your heavy panting and buzz of his heat lamp but it still felt so loud. Your blood rushed to your ears, realizing what the two of you were doing and for a moment you wondered if this was a good idea but it didn’t take long for you to realize you didn’t care either way. You could worry about the repercussions later.
Jungkook leaned down between your parted thighs until his lips brushed against yours and his hard cock pressed against your wet heat, “You’re still the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.”
Your heart dropped at his tender words, breath hitching in your throat and letting your hands touch against his arms, “Even after so long?”
There was a soft sound of a cricket not far outside the window and when he whispered, “Everlong,” to you, you had to stop and stare into his eyes in search of something to say. It was a small ode to Foo Fighters’ song ‘Everlong’ and how no matter how much time you spent apart, he would forever feel this way about you.
The red heat lamp did little to light the room along the moon but he still saw the way your eyes seemed to water, feeling your hands brush against his cheek, “I’m sorry.”
He seemed to freeze even as his cock aligned with your folds, coated in your arousal and all he needed was one push of his hips to feel you once more and yet he stopped, “Sorry?”
Did you want to stop?
Did you realize that this might not be the best idea?
Had he said something that made you want to leave?
“I was scared,” you admitted suddenly, “We wanted different things and I was scared that you would realize that after it was too late and you would just throw me away.”
He resisted the urge to scoff, bringing a hand up to push your hair out of your face and onto the pillow, “You know I never would have, baby.”
The pet name slipped out without his intention, “I never loved anyone as much as I loved you.”
It didn’t slip by either of you his use of past tense but you understood what he meant and you hated that you couldn’t before. It’s crazy how a silly little friendship between two coworkers who like the same music and style had developed so far out into the future that when your relationship ended, you couldn’t ever fully move on.
“I want to feel you,” you whispered, your nose brushing against his as he dropped his head to look down at the small space between your bodies. Jungkook was gentle in finding your entrance with the tip of his cock, guiding himself between your folds until you released a gasp at the stretch. Although it hurt for a moment, it didn’t take your body long to get used to him—like it had been waiting to feel him all this time and your mouths drew open in silent gasps when he bottomed out waiting there for the stretching. Even without foreplay your bodies seemed to know exactly what they needed to do and you hugged him, releasing a small moan in his ear as he dropped his head against your neck. Jungkook felt his heart race as you clung to him, letting him get used to feeling your walls around his dick once more and for a second it felt like too much, “Oh fuck, I missed you.”
“I missed you so much,” you confessed with a sigh when he drew his hips back slightly before bringing them forward in a single thrust as if testing the waters first, “So much, Jungkook.”
What’s crazy is how you had been so unaware of it as if some of the things you did weren’t constant reminders of him that you had to force yourself to forget. You still wore beanies because of him, you listened to fucking Korn because of him, you still slept on the right side because he liked the left—even when past partners would argue that they liked that side too, you never changed it. You had craved him in every aspect of your life even when you had forgotten it… that’s why you kept the tapes.
You let out a moan from his slow thrusts, in and out, in and out, dragging his cock out slowly as if letting you remember what it felt like to have him inside of you against and it had your legs moving to wrap around his waist. You grip his shoulders tightly moving your hips in rhythm with his, it was a slow and sensual yet rough fucking that had you begging, “Jungkook, more."
He rose his head from your neck, hips thrusting his thick cock into your wet pussy, doing exactly what you wanted.
He licked the corner of your mouth as you watched his hips draw back before pushing forward harshly, “I wanted to stop thinking about you, baby, but I couldn’t.”
You heard him clearly and you didn’t need to ask to understand what he meant, you simply ran your hands down his toned, muscular back guiding him to fuck you harder as he went on, “Even when I thought I hated you, I couldn’t let you go.”
The two of you were supposed to talk after and yet he he was losing his rhythm and talking to you while passionately and aggressively fucking you. “I’m sorry,” you repeated with a soft moan, “I should have never left you.” You kiss him for a moment before he moves down and leaves a bite on your chest making you whine out from it and he moves his hands down to your hips, gripping tightly as he fucked you harder, “You’re right, you shouldn’t have.”
" Jungkook," you moaned again, clinging to him, feeling your climax close, "I still love you."
He seemed to come to a halt at your sudden confession and you nearly pushed him away, surprised by yourself and your impulsiveness but he only pressed his body harder against yours.
"I love you so fucking much," he growled into your chest as he began to pound into you. The room filled with a string of moans as he fucked you unlike he ever had before, completely different yet still as passionate as he used to and moaned into your ear, “So close.”
“Ngh,” you gasped, “You feel so good, I think I’m gonna cum soon.”
“Mhm,” he hummed in content, clinging to you as much as possible, “Please, Y/n, I need to feel it, one more time baby, it’s been so long since you came for me.”
His thumb had slid down your body until it found your clit which had hardened with arousal and he rubbed light patterns around it, feeling your walls twitch and it became harder for him to drag his cock back out with the way you tightened.
“I’m going to cum,” he admitted, nails digging into the soft flesh of your thighs urging you to let him go but your legs held him in place and he realized what you wanted—he wanted it too. He didn’t want to pull away from you for even a second and as your walls convulsed around him with release, he couldn’t help but let go with a moan.
He held your body to his panting heavily as your sweat covered bodies clung to each other desparatelt, both letting your orgasms ride their wave before pulling apart.
It took him a moment to gather enough strength to pull out, doing so with a small tired grunt until he was rolling onto his back feeling out of breath, hand searching for yours on the bed.
The realization that the two of you just had unprotected sex after six years apart seemed to hit you first and you sat up worried, looking over at him as he struggled to catch his breath, “Bathroom?”
He lifted a tired hand toward his en suite and you left him tired and alone in the darkness of his bedroom.
You cleaned yourself up as best as you could, trying not to let what just happened cloud your mind and remind yourself that you had wanted to talk to him. You’re not sure what this meant, if this meant anything more than just sex between ex lovers or if this was more but you didn’t have much time to question it when Jungkook knocked on the bathroom door and let himself in. He walked past you to the large bathtub, running the water and letting it fill as he looked at you with worry, “You okay?”
“Yeah,” you nodded your head, biting your lip, “You?”
A small smile came to his face as the water quickly filled behind him, “Yeah.”
When the bathtub was filled, Jungkook took your hand in his and led you inside the water, “But we should talk.”
“I agree,” you said, suddenly shy by your nakedness and brought your knees to your chest, sinking into the water with your back pressed against the side of the rub. Jungkook sat on the other end, never letting go of your hand as he pulled you toward him until you were between his legs with your back against his chest.
“Y/n,” his voice was soft as he cupped water in his palm to pour down on your bare shoulder, “I really did miss you.”
You released your lip from between your teeth, leaning further against him, “I missed you too.”
“And I want to be with you,” Jungkook admitted, “Even if it’s not how it used to be.”
It was impossible to be how it was six years ago and he’s realized that now but he doesn’t care. If you asked him to be friends even after the passionate sex the two of you had just had, he would do it as long as it meant he could be with you.
“You don’t hate me?” You asked sounding worried. You still loved him and it was embarassing enough to know you finally admitted it when he was inside you but it didn’t change the fact that it was true. You loved Jungkook so much and maybe you always had deep down even when you told yourself you didn’t but could the two of you really try this again?
“I could never,” he said placing a soft kiss on your shoulder as he began to wash the front of your body with his sponge, “You know that.”
“But I left you—“
“No, I left you,” Jungkook said, “I’m the one who wanted to move Y/n, not you. I’m the one who made you feel like you had to choose.”
You stayed quiet and he worried he upset you.
“I came back because I realized that my home wasn’t anywhere else but with you,” he confessed, “And I was too much of a coward when I came back that I didn’t go looking for you the second I had the chance to.”
“Jungkook,” you turned to face him, cuddling into him in the bathtub and eyes wide with affection, “Let’s try, one more time. L-let’s, let’s give us a shot… I… I—I have so much I wish I could’ve done better and if you just give me a chance I promise I will love and support anything you do—“
“Y/n, I would give us a million chances over again if it means I could be with you still.”
::.
yallllll the took me forever 😭ik there wasn’t too much focus on their relationship in the tapes but that’s bc I’m gonna do drabbles of them when I get the chance
permanent taglist: @notmyfaultbutours @rerefundslocals @fandems @sugaluvmyg @guvgguk @kimyishin @libra04 @kooromiwrld @classycreationcupcake-blog @alwaysdreamingnotsleeping @cherrymonlightt @nikkiordonez12 @asking4-sanity @thvlover7 @saweetspoiled @uwu2rawr @shaybts-blog @babycandy111 @tearyjjeon @joons-uparupa @jeonninja @yellowcupid08 @02010802faves @knudsenheggedal edel @skzthinker @unnatae @aurorthi @beautywine e @95ene @taekookstata @lilliankoo @shescharlie @annenakamura @lesoleile @burnahtsw @babybella337 @kooloveys @ku-ku @chaelvrx @minnie-mouser22 @Imeneghd @whoa-jo @evajeonsworld @marvelbun n @sunnikthv @kochycooky @heyhowyoudoin3 @acielelyseen @giselleswifeee @jeonjk25 @ilikeitlikethatt @bangmechanpls @lvr2seok @badbyeyoongi i @jaerisdiction @watermelonjuice15 @artmsmaid @xyahrinx @angeleen777 @jooniesxbby @brillantdarling
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supernovafics · 7 months ago
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•*⁀➷ ❝ 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐊 𝐌𝐄 𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐑. ❞✭・
supernovafics!
✭•*⁀➷ a modern fake dating steve harrington series ·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。.
in which a friendship is surprisingly born in an elevator, and a crush that feels hopeless is developed very soon after that. for what feels like forever, you debate whether or not you should be honest with eddie and see if he maybe feels the same way as you. but, you upsettingly miss your chance to say anything when he gets into a relationship with someone that’s not you. ultimately, you decide to push everything you feel to the side so that you don’t potentially ruin everything between you and him; because at the end of the day, he’s still your best friend. now, two years later, things have changed— there’s a break up, reignited feelings, and pining that feels worse and even more helpless this time around. a blind date leads to you fake dating some guy you barely even know with the hopes of finally getting eddie to see you as more than just a friend. at first, you’re hesitant and you honestly think that steve’s suggestion sounds a little insane. but, then you decide that perhaps it could actually, somehow, maybe work? you and steve haven’t even known each other for a full twenty-four hours before you two are shaking hands and agreeing to fake date for a month, and hoping that you both get what you want out of this abruptly thrown together arrangement.
warnings: modern au, college au, fake dating trope, Big Big slow burn, bestfriend!eddie, slight fuckboy!steve vibes, unrequited feelings, pining, angst, specific warnings will be tagged per chapter
author's note: ah i'm very very excited for this series! i had this idea since like december and have been up and down and back and forth with outlining and writing it for the past few months (its been a bit of a roller coaster to say the least lmao). but here it finally is woooo !! i'm gonna actually do a taglist for this one so let me know if you wanna be added<333
wc: 83.2k
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。
prologue — can't go back
chapter one — from the start
chapter two — how to fall in love
chapter three — easier said
chapter four — playing pretend
chapter five — somehow, it works
chapter six — keep it simple
chapter seven — in the dark
chapter eight — what this could mean
chapter nine — if there’s a next time
chapter ten — alone with you
chapter eleven — wishful thinking
chapter twelve — it’s all for you
chapter thirteen — i don’t ever wanna leave
chapter fourteen — maybe it’s you
chapter fifteen — let it all out
chapter sixteen — fragments of time
chapter seventeen — maybe we got it right
chapter eighteen — for real this time
chapter nineteen — close to you *
epilogue — nothing else feels like this *
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pastel0rchid · 3 months ago
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Bad Dog (1)
Shifter!Simon Riley x F!Reader
Story Summary:
He was just a dog you had gotten from the kennel. He was just a dog that would protect you from him. That's all he was... just a dog.
Until things started moving, started going missing. Maybe you were misremembering... maybe you were going crazy...
Maybe he was just a bad dog.
Word Count: 1.5K
Warnings: None so far
Author's Note: Here it is! I finally finished the first chapter of 'Bad Dog', I hope you all enjoy it! <3
Next Chapter
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The stale scent of dogs filled the air around you, thunderous barking echoing throughout the room.
You follow after the shelter worker, eyes glancing around at the different breeds of dogs in their kennels. Some shivered in the corner, effectively breaking your heart, while others stood on their hindlegs at the cage’s gate as you walked by.
The shelter worker, whose name tag read ‘Mindy’ with a few stickers of cartoon dogs, points out different breeds that would be good for what you needed, as if you hadn’t researched beforehand. She gestures to different cages of dogs that pant happily, their tails wagging as you make eye contact while passing by.
They were nice, happy dogs… but it wasn’t what you were looking for.
You needed a big dog. One that was protective and would attack if need be.
Cage after cage passes, not a single dog sticking to what you needed. It wasn’t until you got to the very end that a dog finally caught your eye.
He was big, almost wolf-sized, his fur as black as the midnight sky. His body was against the back of the cage, large brown eyes following your every move.
Mindy was busy talking about another dog, a Golden Retriever that arrived a few days ago, but you paid her no mind. Instead, you find yourself walking closer to the cage of the large dog, looking over the little introduction card. There was no story to compel a person to buy this dog, there were only big red letters saying:
‘Dangerous, schedule euthanasia.’
Brows furrowing, your heart drops as you read the words multiple times. Euthanasia? What was so dangerous about him that he needed to be put to death?
His brown eyes meet yours as you slowly lower into a crouching position in front of the kennel, a huff coming deep from his chest. With Mindy’s voice drowned out in the background, you slowly reach a hand between the bars, keeping eye contact with the large dog and a small smile on your lips.
“Hi there,” You keep your voice soft, showing that you were no threat to this large beast, “It’s alright, I’m not going to hurt you.”
His gaze moved between your eyes and your outstretched hand, and you could tell he was contemplating something. Remembering what you had been told about dogs since you were little, you keep your hand steady and your smile soft. It only took a few quiet moments before he slowly got up and inches forward, nudging your hand with the end of his snout.
He sniffs against your skin, the warmth of his breath contrasting with his nose's cold and wet feeling. No reaction is given to you from him, he only huffs against your hand and lays back down, this time closer to the gated door.
Relief and happiness filled you instantly at his reaction. At least he seemed to tolerate you.
Keeping your movements slow, you gently pet his head, his fur surprisingly soft as you brush it through your fingers. His eyes remain locked on you as you gently pet him, your fingers seeming to satiate him enough to where he loses some of his tension.
A noise rips you out of the sweet moment, Mindy having made a sound of shock before rushing over, “Miss! You can’t be near him, he’s… not… safe.” Her voice slowly pedals off in confusion at the sight of the giant dog seeming content with your touches.
Your eyes look up towards her with a soft smile, your heart already smitten with the dog and wanting to take him home. You knew he’d protect you.
“I’ll adopt him, please.” You say surely before going into a standing position, a happy feeling in your chest at your decision to adopt this terrifying creature. You had a good feeling about this one, a tug you couldn’t quite place, but you felt attached to him already.
Mindy stands there beside you, shock written all over her face. You could tell she wasn’t expecting the sudden turn of events. When you look back down at the canine, he is sitting up and staring at you with his big, brown eyes, his tail wagging ever so slightly to the point where you might’ve missed it.
~~
Walking into your small apartment was a bit of a struggle while trying to carry all of the items for your new companion, your arms weighed down with the multitude of things to try and help him remain comfortable while living with you.
He follows behind you, a squeaky toy of a ghost held securely in his mouth.
Using your foot, you shut the door and dropped everything you were carrying onto the couch before flicking the multiple locks you had specifically requested to be drilled onto your door. A small sigh of relief escapes you once the last lock has been turned, ensuring your safety once again.
Your gaze moves to the dog, noticing that he is already watching you while sitting a few feet behind you. At the shelter, it had taken a while to fill out the paperwork since you couldn’t quite figure out what to name him. You had tried several names with him, only to receive either a huff or an unamused growl in response. It wasn’t until he went over towards the wall of toys and grabbed the squeaky toy that you had tried the name ‘Ghost’.
His tail gave a small wag and he bit down on the toy, a squeak being the confirmation you had needed.
Walking past him towards the kitchen, you gently scratch behind his ear before he begins to follow after you, the toy remaining in his mouth. You wanted something simple for dinner, too tired to truly put in effort to cook something that needed a lot of work.
Your cabinets were a bit barren, reminding you that you would need to head to the store soon. You always dreaded the store, too many people and not enough places where you could clearly see everything around you. But you had Ghost now, and thankfully, the store nearby allowed pets as long as they were on a leash.
Thoughts racing in your mind of your plan for tomorrow, you silently watch the pot of water boiling around the ramen noodles before adding the seasoning packet. While the noodles cook, you quickly make Ghost’s dinner as well. Having taken advice from Mindy at the shelter, you had bought some raw meat from the pet store.
Cutting it up into bite-sized chunks, you mix it with a few raw vegetables that you had lying around. You knew that Ghost had to have been more wolf than dog, meaning he would need a different diet than just kibble, but you didn’t mind spending a bit more money as long as he kept you safe and secure.
The both of you eat in comfortable silence, only the occasional crunch from Ghost and a slurp from you. Ghost had finished before you though, having scarfed down his food like he had been starved at the shelter. You bristled at the thought, especially at the knowledge that they were going to euthanize him.
You watch as he walks over to you, silently laying down beside your chair with a small huff, his head resting against his paws.
Now you were definitely certain that you had made the right choice in adopting him, even with the reluctance of Mindy and the rest of the shelter workers.
Dinner was finished soon enough, dishes set in the sink with a promise of doing them tomorrow. Grabbing the large dog bed you had gotten, you head towards the bedroom with Ghost following right behind you.
You hadn’t even had the chance to set the dog bed down before Ghost decided to jump onto your bed, circling a few times before plopping with the same huff he seems to enjoy giving.
His brown eyes watch as you set down the dog bed in the corner of the room, your hands on your hips as you look back at him. You wanted to tell him to get off your bed and to lay on his bed, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to force him to move when he already seemed to have gotten so comfortable.
This would just have to be future you’s problem.
Changing into your pajamas without a care in the world that Ghost seemed to continue to follow your every move, you decide on a set of sweatpants and a loose sleep shirt.
You climb into bed, using your foot to nudge Ghost so your legs can have more room. It took your body surprisingly quick to relax, unlike the usual hours of laying awake with your heart pounding anxiously. You knew it had to have been the new presence, instantly feeling safe with the large dog beside you.
Flicking off the lamp and shrouding the room in darkness, you could feel Ghost shuffle into a more comfortable position, his head lying on top of your stomach. You reach down and gently begin carding your fingers through his dark fur.
It wasn’t long after you had closed your eyes that you had drifted off into a rare, peaceful sleep with your new protector against your side.
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physalian · 10 months ago
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You don’t have to pay for that fancy worldbuilding program
As mentioned in this post about writing with executive dysfunction, if one of your reasons to keep procrastinating on starting your book is not being able to afford something like World Anvil or Campfire, I’m here to tell you those programs are a luxury, not a necessity: Enter Google Suite (not sponsored but gosh I wish).
MS Office offers more processing power and more fine-tuning, but Office is expensive and only autosaves to OneDrive, and I have a perfectly healthy grudge against OneDrive for failing to sync and losing 19k words of a WIP that I never got back.
Google’s sync has never failed me, and the Google apps (at least for iPhone) aren’t nearly as buggy and clunky as Microsoft’s. So today I’m outlining the system I used for my upcoming fantasy novel with all the helpful pictures and diagrams. Maybe this won’t work for you, maybe you have something else, and that’s okay! I refuse to pay for what I can get legally for free and sometimes Google’s simplicity is to its benefit.
The biggest downside is that you have to manually input and update your data, but as someone who loves organizing and made all these willingly and for fun, I don’t mind.
So. Let’s start with Google Sheets.
The Character Cheat Sheet:
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I organized it this way for several reasons:
I can easily see which characters belong to which factions and how many I have named and have to keep up with for each faction
All names are in alphabetical order so when I have to come up with a new name, I can look at my list and pick a letter or a string of sounds I haven’t used as often (and then ignore it and start 8 names with A).
The strikethrough feature lets me keep track of which characters I kill off (yes, I changed it, so this remains spoiler-free)
It’s an easy place to go instead of scrolling up and down an entire manuscript for names I’ve forgotten, with every named character, however minor their role, all in one spot
Also on this page are spare names I’ll see randomly in other media (commercials, movie end credits, etc) and can add easily from my phone before I forget
Also on this page are my summary, my elevator pitch, and important character beats I could otherwise easily mess up, it helps stay consistent
*I also have on here not pictured an age timeline for all my vampires so I keep track of who’s older than who and how well I’ve staggered their ages relative to important events, but it’s made in Photoshop and too much of a pain to censor and add here
On other tabs, I keep track of location names, deities, made-up vocabulary and definitions, and my chapter word count.
The Word Count Guide:
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*3/30 Edit to update this chart to its full glory. Column 3 is a cumulative count. Most of what I write breaks 100k and it's fun watching the word count rise until it boils over.
This is the most frustrating to update manually, especially if you don’t have separate docs for each chapter, but it really helps me stay consistent with chapter lengths and the formula for calculating the average and rising totals is super basic.
Not that all your chapters have to be uniform, but if you care about that, this little chart is a fantastic visualizer.
If you have multiple narrators, and this book does, you can also keep track of how many POVs each narrator has, and how spread out they are. I didn’t do that for this book since it’s not an ensemble team and matters less, but I did for my sci-fi WIP, pictured below.
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As I was writing that one, I had “scripted” the chapters before going back and writing out all the glorious narrative, and updated the symbols from “scripted” to “finished” accordingly.
I also have a pie chart that I had to make manually on a convoluted iPhone app to color coordinate specifically the way I wanted to easily tell who narrates the most out of the cast, and who needs more representation.
Google Docs
Can’t show you much here unfortunately but I’d like to take an aside to talk about my “scene bits” docs.
It’s what it says on the tin, an entire doc all labeled with different heading styles with blurbs for each scene I want to include at some point in the book so I can hop around easily. Whether they make it into the manuscript or not, all practice is good practice and I like to keep old ideas because they might be useful in unsuspecting ways later.
Separate from that, I keep most of my deleted scenes and scene chunks for, again, possible use later in a “deleted scenes” doc, all labeled accordingly.
When I designed my alien language for the sci-fi series, I created a Word doc dictionary and my own "translation" matrix, for easy look-up or word generation whenever I needed it (do y'all want a breakdown for creating foreign languages? It's so fun).
Normally, as with my sci-fi series, I have an entire doc filled with character sheets and important details, I just… didn’t do that for this book. But the point is—you can still make those for free on any word processing software, you don’t need fancy gadgets.
I hope this helps anyone struggling! It doesn’t have to be fancy. It doesn’t have to be expensive. Everything I made here, minus the aforementioned timeline and pie chart, was done with basic excel skills and the paint bucket tool. I imagine this can be applicable to games, comics, what have you, it knows no bounds!
Now you have one less excuse to sit down and start writing.
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arieswritez · 9 months ago
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puppy love
puppy love | yandere!mark grayson x afab!reader | MULTI-CHAP: 3
chapter 2
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cw; DARK CONTENT!!! MDNI!!! reader is neurodivergent, ableism, growing up is messy & adults suck, angst, niceguy™/slight incel mark, childhood friend/bully!mark, mark gets his powers sooner, teeny tiny implications of pseudo incest (blink and you'll miss it), violent rape, threats of violence, & canon typical violence, stalking, implied murder, gender & body dysphoria, mentions/implications of disordered eating, mark teases reader about their body once, overall asshole mark, implied grooming (mark handles it but he's a lil bitch about it later), so, victim blaming, misogyny, the inexplicable horrors of being afab, objectification, sexualization
about; you don't know how long i could stare into your picture and wish that it was me i guess it's different 'cause you love him but i've got an interactive sick and twisted imagination and that's gotta count for something - not allowed (tv girl)
3.
you'd found a boy that made your heart go thump thump, thump. and you knew very well how the rest of that story usually went.
your love was encompassing. asphyxiating and obsessive. and in the very first moment the two of you interacted, you knew, this could be it.
you didn't blame yourself.
you couldn't blame yourself.
blame the love stories.
the disney movies with the princes and the magic mirrors. breaking curses with true love's kiss. much like the fabricated sugary fantasies, your potential life with him unfolded before your eyes.
he could be the one.
true love's forever kiss.
you imagined it all.
movie theater dates, awkward parental meetings, proposals, a home, kids, pets. arguments. therapy, even. pushing through at the end. death. rebirth. trying it all over again in the next life.
all you had to do was get him to stick around.
you had to make him understand that you could be his true love kiss, too.
you had to be perfect.
. . there was just one miniscule problem.
the boy so happened be on the same baseball team as mark.
it's the way the two of you had met.
despite the fact that you were supposed to be there for mark: your eyes were . . elsewhere. your eyes - then your focus - had gravitated towards him even before the first pitch. and you found yourself blushing as you watched him stretch: holding his baseball bat over his head.
you'd made it your only goal to attempt to extract as much information about it from mark as discretely as you could. and frankly, you should've known mark would be able to read you like the back of his hand.
because he found out what you were trying to do embarrassingly quickly.
and he was just as quick to shut it down.
you hadn't noticed the boy before. not really. but since the baseball game, he seemed to be everywhere. and you were excited to find that he was the new addition to mark's friend group. you knew this because you saw him and mark sitting together during lunch.
which meant they were at least acquaintances.
so imagine your shock when you came to find out. . mark didn't like him.
everything about him seemed to rub mark the wrong way. mark would clam up the moment you mentioned your boy. he'd change the subject. or his mood would just straight up sour. he'd go quiet and avoidant. and when you kept pushing, he finally snapped.
your boy was stupid.
your boy was shallow.
"don't say i didn't warn you." mark would mumble.
but warning you wasn’t enough.
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your boy barely looked at you.
and you weren't sure if it was in part because of the way you acted. . the way you looked. maybe he was so out of your league that he'd completely removed you from his radar.
you'd watch him from across hallways and excitement would swell in your chest when you found that you'd be walking in opposite directions.
you'd see him coming.
he'd see you.
time would slow as you walked past him.
your heart rate would pick up.
but his eyes would remain forward and time would pick back up again as soon as you were past each other.
all it'd leave you with was the bitter taste of rejection in your mouth and a deep ache of anxiety bubbling in your stomach.
the only thing that sobered you up were the dizzying possibilities.
he hadn't seen you. he hadn't noticed the effort you'd put in.
but eventually, he would.
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you don't know what it was that grabbed his attention.
mark was vehemently against introducing you two.
you were at a loss until you realized that you'd just have to try harder.
whenever mark left for the bathroom, you'd made it a mission to swipe mark's phone during study sessions. you'd go through his socials and send yourself screenshots of both his follower count and who he was following.
it was a long tedious progress but eventually, you'd found your boy's account.
thankfully, it was public. which meant the the decoy accounts you'd made to snoop just in case he was private turned out to be a waste of time.
you looked through his followers and did your homework on anyone he showed a particular interest in. you'd even made a list of the usernames of the people who’s posts he interacted with the most.
and soon you became a master of disguise.
you studied them top to bottom.
those that went to the same school were far easier to emulate.
you copied their mannerisms, the way they styled their hair, you changed the cadence of your voice, the way you rolled your r’s. your clothing grew tighter and your slouch was now an exaggerated upbeat gallop as you chased after the object your new affection, hoping one day he'd notice.
. . and the exact moment he looked into your eyes and did a double take. . you did one, too.
it was completely out of surprise before you caught yourself and continued to saunter away from him with butterflies in your stomach: flapping their wings so violently it felt like you'd be swept away.
his attention was the most excitement you'd felt. . in a long time.
and you knew you'd do anything to retain it.
it was a sickly sweet feeling: syrupy, sticky. clogging your vascular system to the point your head swelled. the lack of oxygen only heightened your fantasies.
the attention was addictive and so, so good you found yourself chasing that high all the time. going to extreme lengths to get his attention. even if they’d end up embarrassing you after.
you never allowed yourself to wallow in the feeling of dread that settled in your stomach when you did everything in your power to get his attention, though.
specially whenever it made a smile stretch across his face.
whatever you did faded into the background.
it was all worth it in the end.
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something was wrong with mark.
and he needed to get to the root of the problem fast.
he was looking at you. . differently.
he talked to his dad.
nolan had said something about the changing moods having to do with his powers. how being intense and passionate was just in his blood.
he talked to his mom about it. albeit in a more discrete way. he'd never be able to live it down if she'd found out you were making him behave a certain way.
she'd just chalked it up to it being puberty.
mark didn't know who to believe.
he just wanted to stop thinking about you.
his nerves were shot to shit whenever you were near.
senses heightened: you were a fog blanketing his brain until your voice carried with it a technicolor vision.
he could smell you coming like a damn blood hound.
he could hear your pulse while sitting next to you.
something was wrong with mark.
he knew it when his teeth ached when you'd stretched your neck: raised your arms over your head and let out a little sound of pain and discomfort.
something was wrong with mark.
when the day's turned warm and wet. . and your clothing became more revealing.
he could see more of you.
freckles and moles, blemishes and scars, he hadn't noticed before.
he'd follow sweat drops rolling down your skin.
smooth. soft.
he'd held you, once.
when was the last time?
something was wrong with mark.
he'd lay awake at night staring up at the ceiling.
thinking about how you'd looked while you concentrated on a book. while you looked down at your phone. while you listened to music: smiling when a song you liked came on.
your little humming. . but not singing.
never singing.
mark noticed you'd stopped singing in front of him when he started to make fun of you for it.
that, too, was how mark knew something was wrong with him.
the way your moods would shift like tides under a crescent moon whenever he'd said something excited him. he felt pleasure - a violent zap of electricity shooting up and down his spice - watching your eyes light up or darken when he'd say something to you.
about you.
i like your hair today.
light.
you talk so goddamn much.
dark.
i missed you.
light.
your stories take fucking forever.
dark.
something was wrong with him when he found his own mood depended on fantasizing on how he'd make you feel that day.
if he was in a bad mood, seeing you in one, too, was a sure-fire way to make his day a whole lot better.
something was wrong with mark.
when he'd have to smother the sounds he made while imagining you -
something was wrong with him. . when red, hot anger consumed him when one of his friends made a smart quip about your body.
when he couldn't just laugh it off anymore.
something was wrong with mark.
. . or so he thought.
because he'd later find out. .
. . no.
something was wrong with you.
all of a sudden: mark was the one double texting.
triple texting.
mark was the one asking if he could hang out. . and when the fuck did he ever need permission?
mark was the one seeking you out.
something was wrong with you.
and he needed to get to root of the problem.
he picked his brain apart in an attempt to figure out what it was. you couldn't be under any stress. you looked fine. better than fine.
you looked happy.
fucking elated.
to the point where mark couldn't affect your moods anymore.
mark wanted to know what the fuck you were so happy about.
why the fuck you were so happy when he was falling apart at the seams. when his world was crashing down.
and there you were, completely fucking oblivious.
mark had always been curious.
and so, he went to see you.
the two of you were in your room.
you'd excused yourself to go to the bathroom.
and mark started looking.
you were predictable.
he knew where you kept your journal. despite how many times he'd found it and read it aloud - holding it above his head whenever you tried to snatch it away - he'd always managed to figure out your next hiding place.
it was easier that way.
he pretended he didn't know where it was.
you pretended to have some privacy.
he pretended not to know every single, minute, insignificant detail of your life.
of your thoughts.
thank fuck you were still so naive.
thank fuck for dairies.
he'd found it in a box under your bed.
and after flipping to the page with the freshest set of ink. . he'd found out what your problem was.
you'd found a boy who'd made your heart go
thump.
thump.
thump.
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spacexgrl · 2 months ago
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Bittersweet ! 🎀
mdni <3 you’re here pt 2
series masterlist 💋
~ in which Ellie breaks up with you and you go a little crazy ~
ex! ellie williams x fem! reader , abby anderson x fem! reader
college au!
warnings: angst, break up, cheating!!, cursing, toxic behavior, smut in future chapters, sexual themes<3 feminine and girly reader ,not proof read!!
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You watched as Ellie stuffed her duffel bag with all her clothes out of your shared closet, at least you’d have more space for new clothes, you’ll definitely do some online shopping later to cheer yourself up.
You’ve stopped crying at this point, you decided that Ellie’s not worth your tears right now she doesn’t deserve to see you in this state, you won’t let her have it. Instead you wiped your heavy tears away and tried to stay calm … at least until she left.
Ellie shifted from her kneeling position as she finished packing her things up, she was ready to leave. She tried to get close to you one last time, a poor attempt to initiate a hug which you declined with taking a step back. What the fuck was that?? you thought, she couldn’t stop making this more awkward than it already was.
“I just want you to know that.. i want to try to be friends i can’t throw away everything we went through and i hope you feel the same way..maybe not now but one day ”
Her voice broke mid sentence, but you wanted to laugh in her face. You just threw away everything we had you asshole is what you wanted to say but you bit your tongue.
You wanted to scream at her
i did everything for you! I did everything to make you happy, i gave you my all and you did fucking nothing! Why couldn’t you end things sooner huh? Fucking coward all you did was waste my time and efforts Ellie, fuck i hope you’re happy fucking Dina every night just like you did on your little studying sessions.
“i know you probably hate me and i’m really sorry i just…fuck i fell in love with her you know? I didn’t meant to i swear i-“
She went on and on with her rambling, stopping when she noticed you weren’t listening to her bullshit anymore. All she said was that Dina was better than you, you got it like 20 minutes ago fuck.
“Goodbye Ellie”
at this point you pushed her out of the doorframe, she pleaded you to let her say goodbye properly whatever the fuck that means. You didn’t wanna find out. Ellie was still so immature in the head..poor girl will never know what she wants. Yeah that was probably it you tried to make sense of the situation but it was just stupid. It wasn’t your fault that she couldn’t love you the way you deserved, it wasn’t your fault that she needed to ruin what you’ve built for some short term fun.. you were her first kiss, her first time, her first love her first everything.
You guess her thirst for new experiences won against years of loving each other.
You remembered meeting Ellie when you were little, she’d always get into fights with kids that were mean to you on the playground. She was your hero and you believe that you loved her from the very beginning. She’d talk your ear off about space, dinosaurs and how she wanted to become an astronaut when she grows up and you believed in her, you always did.
The day before she asked you to be her girlfriend, Ellie introduced you to her Father, Joel. It was such a beautiful day you got along so well and he absolutely loved you. You were convinced that you were going to marry Ellie one day…how wrong you were.
Once Ellie was accepted into college you were the first one to know but Ellie.. Seattle is so far away.. you were so happy for her but you weren’t made for a long distance relationship. I know but.. i want to get into Aerospace engineering and it’s the best place for that babe.. come with me? Please?
just like that you applied for your dream major and got accepted in no time. You wished things would’ve gone differently..
You shrugged off the memories that were floating in your head as you plopped on your king sized bed, face down on your fluffy pillows. You groaned loudly and forced yourself up against the bed frame, grabbing your phone you left on the nightstand.
Mindlessly scrolling through instagram you stumbled across a picture of her.
It was a mirror selfie in a free weights section of some gym..she was in a tight competition shirt and grey sweats, boxers peeking out just a tiny bit as she flexed her big beefy arms..god you could almost count the muscles on her stomach.
Her blonde locks were tied in a loose braid, little strands framing her freckled face..okay that’s enough you thought as you clicked on her profile taking in every picture her hands are so big you bit your lip and rubbed your thighs together without even noticing has Abby Anderson always been this hot??
Of course she has..straight A student biology major scholarship basketball team captain daughter of one of the greatest neurosurgeons in the state Abby Anderson
Ellie never told you about her feud with her..she just told you to stay away from her at all costs. Babe it doesn’t matter just ignore her trust me she’s no good..i fucking hate her guts is what you recall her saying after Abby greeted you in the hallway like one time.
Lost in your thoughts you didn’t notice that you accidentally liked one of her newest stories oh no no no fuck!! you panicked and threw your phone on your bed far away from you.
ding!
ding!
ding!
please be Ellie you prayed to god that it was Ellie hoping she left something important behind but you were wrong.. maybe you should just end it all now…
after contemplating your entire life for about 5 minutes you dared to click on Abby’s messages
hey doll
heard about your breakup.. Ellie’s a dick anyway lol
want me to cheer you up?
🎀
pt 3
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therandompagesblog · 1 month ago
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SKZ Pack Chapter 27
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Trigger warnings: Sacrifice, breaking bones, blood, trauma.
Hyunjin was dragged to a circle on the floor and was forced upon it. Whatever was to happen he would go through it. This was his time to repent for abandoning Y/N all those years, letting her be abused without his protection. It was his turn to suffer and he would gladly accept it, as long as Y/N wouldn't suffer. She was not allowed to suffer any longer. She was a mother now and a Luna. A powerful combination who was still determined to save him, but Hyunjin would have to save himself. She should not risk it this time. Hyunjin lifted his head up to see a group of witches along side Chan and Joshua. Hyunjin then looked at Chan. He knew he was in there somewhere. He had to be. He wouldn't do this to his own pack nor Y/N. But, he was doing this because Chan ceased to exist right now. Christopher was here. The young troubled alpha was here and he needed help.
Joshua stepped forward and nodded to the witches who lit the circle so Hyunjin couldn't move. "You know why you're here?!" Joshua asked. "No, but I hope you tell me." Hyunjin spat. "Me being bound to Y/N does not effect anything. It does not affect Chan's bond. Chan is not insecure, but maybe Christopher is." "You will always be her favourite. She has to go." Christopher answered. "Wow. Still so insecure Christopher. Still holding on to every word you uncle tells you." Hyunjin laughed satirically. It was amusing to see the personality switch to a teenage boy who was still soul-searching for a mate. "Christopher you have a mate. You have a child." Hyunjin shouted painfully. He wanted the boy to understand. "No, I don't. I have no mate because of you. I have no child if I have no mate." Christopher said, but his eyes were curious. "Listen to me, Christopher. I'm sorry Joshua manipulated you and told you things he knew you wanted to hear- Ah." A witch used their gift to harm him. It caused him pain. "Stop. Please. Y/N. The pup." "Are you telling the truth Hyunjin? Does she have a pup?" Christopher asked curiously, but Joshua held him back shaking his head. "He lies," Joshua promised. "Break the bond." "What?" Hyunjin was stunned. They can't break the bond. After all this time. Hyunjin was panicking. His throat tightened. His breath quickened as it gasped for air. Not the bond. Don't
The witches came to Hyunjin, circling around him, muttering a spell. The closer they got, the louder they became. Hyunjin could feel his body turn cold with dark aura seeping through his veins, aiming for his heart. As soon as it reached his heart it tightened and Hyunjin prayed Y/N was not feeling any of this. Except she was. Y/N was thrashing badly in Jeongin's arms, not knowing what to do. He wanted it to stop. Jeongin sent Changbin, Minho and Seungmin out to put an end to this. Jeongin needed it to stop but it wouldn't until the bond was broken.  The bond needed to be broken for the next step. The step to remove Hyunjin completely. To keep him away from Y/N. Hyunjin felt a snap in his heart and his soul coming back to him fully. They had done it. They had officially broken the bond between him and Y/N. Hyunjin let out a cry of despair. It felt like losing her all over again. He didn't care he was crying like a baby he wanted his Y/N. He wanted to see her one last time before they killed him. He wanted to see her puffy face. He knew she would be crying and in hysterics. He knew she would be feeling guilty and he hoped that their pup would give them all grief and be the most obnoxious pup. Boy or girl it didn't matter. Hyunjin hoped he would get to watch over them or at least be the pup's guardian angel in case they did get up to some kind of mischief that was for far.
Hyunjin felt a snap in his body. His legs went first, thrusting him on all fours. His knees when and then his ankles. His spine snapped. His arms bent and he growled. A growl so deep that a werewolf couldn't make it. Hyunjin glared at Christopher wanting to yell out at him but his body was changing. It was getting hotter and then colder. He wanted to be sick but he couldn't. His face was hurting. His teeth were changing and hurting. Hyunjin could see claws coming out from his fingertips as his skin turned black. No. No. No. Please no. Hyunjin screamed in fright and pain as his body thrust forward. Before he turned Hyunjin looked up to see Y/N's puffy face running towards him. Then everything changed. All he could hear and see was flesh and blood. A heartbeat. Hyunjin was officially a lycan.
Y/N launched herself forward, tears streaming down her face as she went to the circle but Seungmin caught her with his mouth. Pulling her arm back so she wouldn't go any closer. Y/N held her stomach seeing him as a lycan broke her. This wasn't supposed to happen. He was never supposed to be a lycan. Y/N cried into Seungmin wolf's face. "No. No. No. Change him back." Chan cried out making Y/N look up to see Joshua's head rolling down the hill. Minho's tanned wolf was covered in blood. Chan was on his knees crying. He was back to himself, but he couldn't look at any of them but the lycan in front of him. "It is done. Unless you give us something he stays a lycan." The witch said before walking away with the others. The seal went down and the lycan ran straight into the woods. Chan ran after him and disappeared into the depths of the woods. None of them followed knowing this was Chan's mistake to fix. He was going to grieve for a very long time as they all were. They were losing so much in a short space of time and there was nothing they could do.
Taglist for the iconic readers:
@galaxy4489 @reallychaoticwoo @leezanetheofficial @mbioooo0000 @jisungs-iced-americano @maybeimmia @hwangrfrnd@wolfo2027 @kayleefriedchicken @leamueller920 @borahae-reads @jennibahng @cookiesandcreammy @jutdwae-flower @danceonmyheyday @jc003 @hpnsfwaddict @pixie0627
~ Taglist closed due to Tumblr only allowing a certain amount ~
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darkcircles4lyfe · 9 months ago
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it's a story about hands (reprise)
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Yeah, okay, today's the day.
I gave my blog that title for a reason, you know, and it has loomed over me for years because the hand motif is absolutely everywhere and you could go on about it forever.
Maybe that's something I'll never actually attempt to do, but this chapter, we reached a breaking point.
Before I continue, I need to give a big, big disclaimer: I do not have a physical disability, so I'm not able to speak about that from the standpoint of representation as a first-hand perspective. I have at least listened to enough disabled people to know that fictional characters who become amputees only to miraculously gain their limbs back is, um, a trope. Disabled people in general being "healed" is a conception we would really prefer to avoid here. Not to call people out, but I don't think we're giving enough space to acknowledge that.
I don’t feel comfortable making the judgement call about what should happen. I’m leaving that open. I also don't want to downplay people's emotional reactions. Honestly, I don't know if I can accurately define the line between acknowledging real pain vs. ableist pity. But I’d like to talk about the possibilities of what could happen. Other characters have definitely gotten permanent disabilities as a result of their hero work, or even just the side effects of their quirk. But, for better or worse, I don't think this case is really about representation. Not that Horikoshi won't do that justice. He might. What I'm saying is that's not his purpose for having Izuku lose his arms. It's meant to be symbolic, so we can explore what it means. The other thing I’m keeping in mind here is that Horikoshi is notorious for playing with our expectations, like, alllllll the time. I mean, just take a few chapters ago for a classic example. Eri appeared at the end, and we all assumed she was about to take some sort of action to save someone with her quirk. Then, immediately following, we were given an explanation for why that wouldn’t be happening. And now it’s clear he wanted to do that “fake out” not just as a silly cliffhanger prank, but specifically so we would know not to suspect that Eri could be the miraculous solution to Izuku’s loss of his arms. Rest assured, there is no easy way out of this.
The expectation at play in this particular instance is an old one. It’s very understated, but its subtext has burned so brightly, you’d be a fool not to notice it. It sits with anticipation like one half of a call and response. Man, I was so certain. Lots of people still are. I was really looking forward to printing the panel where it happened onto a t shirt and wearing it proudly. All the hand motifs in this story radiate thematically from a single moment, the one that started it all for Izuku.
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It raises all kinds of questions about the act of saving, who needs saving, why, what does it mean, what are the dynamics of power, politics, honesty, exploitation, compassion, pity, disdain, sacrifice. Katsuki has dealt with many of these since he first rejected Izuku’s hand. While Izuku was the one who was convinced Katsuki would keep on rejecting him…
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…Katsuki was the one who kept that moment in his mind all these years and eventually came to regret it.
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Katsuki is the one yearning for that hand-hold, the one who has imbued it with so much more weight than it ever originally had. Izuku, in contrast, does not allow himself to dwell on what he wants. To illustrate this difference, we need to look at another piece of foreshadowing:
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Ugh, do y'all remember when lots of folks were complaining about how there never seemed to be actual consequences for Izuku's destructive treatment of his own body? I don't blame them, I was concerned and confused about it too. There were several "fixes" along the way. Recovery Girl healed him, but left a physical reminder. Then he started training to fight with his legs… sometimes. Then he got support items. All of these were unsatisfying non-conclusions because they didn't present Izuku with a lasting enough impression to change in a meaningful way. They didn't address his core, his origin.
Of course, that all changed this chapter. Now it looks like our frustration was inflicted intentionally. With the current context in mind, all of these moments look more sinister, like this day was always gonna come because they kept putting bandaids on a deep emotional and psychological wound. The problem is pretty much spelled out for us here:
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As Katsuki put it, he just doesn’t take himself into account, ya know? He doesn’t care what happens to him. And he lies about it, to keep others from worrying, to keep them safe. To keep them from returning the favor and putting themselves in harm’s way for his sake. His motivations are noble,
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…but what about the little boy inside Izuku? Who saves him?
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This is all about Izuku giving himself up to the point that he literally has no more to give. The thing is, I bet he saw this coming. He knew his limits and decided to keep going anyway, because his personal safety and wellbeing are not important. Now that way of thinking has come back to bite him because the fight isn’t over yet, and he’s already made his sacrifice. So now we know who will be more distraught over this. Not Izuku—Katsuki.
It’s not about Izuku becoming disabled, it’s about how Katsuki wanted to use the intertwining of their fingers to communicate that he would never let go. Never stop valuing him most. Never let himself make the mistake of rejecting him again. Never let Izuku be so reckless with his life. To say: “we are in this together.”…if only Katsuki believed he deserved to be able to say such things. To reach out his hand would have been the ultimate way to simply imply them and let Izuku be the one to decide. Then, to feel their hands clasped together would be more than either of them dared hope for, but so beautiful, so right. A moment they’ve waited their whole lives for.
Yeah. That’s what we were expecting. We’ve been so comfortable. Horikoshi gave us all the signs. He tempted and teased us over and over. BUT. You know he does this thing were he gives us a desirable, completely plausible and simple thing to look forward to, and then he snatches it away. And THEN he replaces it with something much better, something we were not expecting at all because it seemed too good to be true. That’s exactly what happened when Himiko snatched Izuku away, and we were robbed of the chance to see him and Katsuki fight together. In hindsight, though, I’m glad things went a different way because now there’s so much more depth and angst on display. Likewise, in the present moment, we may consider how, as one door closes, another opens.
As wonderfully meaningful as the hand-hold would have been, perhaps it is still too simple a resolution for Izuku, for his and Katsuki’s relationship. Tbh, it could have been done like 100 chapter ago. At this point, there’s so much more potential. There are a couple of ways it could go. If Izuku stays armless, Katsuki will be forced to use other methods to get his point across. He’ll have to do something else, or say what he means, or both. Yes, I’m talking about what you think I’m talking about. If I say it, I just might jinx it (lol), but I mean it. I’m being serious. Either way, if Izuku did get his arms back in the end, I’m sure that it wouldn’t be an easy fix. It would be hard-won against Izuku’s self-destructive mindset, and/or by Katsuki’s conviction. Again, I say this knowing it is not meant so much as a representation of disability, but as a representation of Izuku’s greatest character flaw taken to the extreme. I know this might sound harsh, like, hasn’t he been through enough? I get that, but… I’ve said it before and I say it again: Izuku is stubborn as hell.
I wish I had a resounding final note to end this on, but I kinda don’t. I’m not sure what’s best. Now we just have to wait and see what Horikoshi has in mind.
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