#the end of july i think? i have a couple of weeks blocked off with nothing but it's my parents' birthdays so i wanna make sure i can

[b-blushes]

FRIDAY QUEST! - do friday cleaning - start new project (:

[strawberriesoup]

lollipop٠࣪⭑

── .✦ You make a deal with Jisung.

word count: 2.1k

genre: fluff, skater!jisung x female reader, friends to lovers, neighbor au

warnings: cursing, reader is kind of a brat, kissing, borderline making out, much fluff

taglist: @jisunggy

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Maybe this deal wasn’t such a good idea.

Your most recent obsession, Stardew Valley, had you begging Jisung to play just one game with you. planning to bug him into submission, you would bring up the game every chance you got. After about a week, he finally relented and agreed to play with you. On one condition. You had to let him teach you a trick on that goddamn skateboard of yours.

You from this morning had agreed. You from this morning was an idiot.

Now, you’re sweating your ass off on a dingy green park bench in the middle of July, chugging what little water you have left out of your regrettably small bottle. It had been what, three hours now? And you just couldn’t get the damned trick down. If you have to hear the words, “One more time! You were so close!” again, you might commit a war crime. The plastic of the bottle crinkles as you crush it and toss it towards the nearest trash can. You miss.

In an attempt to get Jisung’s attention, you sprawl your limbs obnoxiously over the length of the bench.

“You’re trying to kill me.” You groan, theatrically draping an arm over your face, “Your sick games won’t work forever.”

“Maybe if you weren’t such a whiner you would get the hang of it faster.” Jisung suggests helpfully as he successfully throws your bottle in the trash and takes a seat next to you, shoving your leg out of the way to make room. He’s sweaty as well, and proceeds to take over any space that is left on bench.

You are most definitely not thinking about how you would love to devour him whole right now. No, that would be silly.

Five years ago, Jisung moved into the neighborhood. Both of you being in freshman year of high school, it started with you two carpooling to school. Which turned into doing homework on the weekends. Which resulted in the two of you being permanently attached at the hip.

And the whole time, you’ve had the biggest, juiciest crush on him.

That little smirk when you’re teasing him? Smitten. When he raises his arms and you can see a sliver of that waist beneath the folds of his hoodie? Good lord. And don’t even get you started on his habit of running his hand through his hair.

But of course, you’re too much of a chicken to actually tell him about it. Besides, he probably doesn’t even like you like that, and you’re not about to make a fool out of yourself to find out.

“Well excuse me for not particularly enjoying having heatstroke. I’m done.”

Arms crossed, you challenge him to say something. Unfortunately, he’s gotten pretty good at dealing with your shit over the years.

In favor of a response, a pointed look is sent by Jisung, one eyebrow raised along with a just barely suppressed smile coloring his features. A bead of sweat rolls down the left side of his flushed face, suggesting that he’s probably just as warm and uncomfortable as you and he’s not complaining. Whatever. You’re still going to bitch about it.

“But you were almost there, I swear! Just one more time, pleasee?” Jisung pleads, widening his eyes and sticking out his lower lip. Not this tactic again. You hate it when he does that. He knows you can’t say no. It’s an unfair advantage.

Skateboarding with Jisung had been a nearly daily exhibition for around a year and a half now. Well, you say “skateboarding” but it really just consists of you riding to and from the convenience store at the end of the block every couple of days. Which you manage to do without falling over, thank you very much. Jisung was just a natural at it, always had been. You were, quite frankly, not.

You had never attempted a trick, content with simply watching Jisung in his element. There’s something theraputic about watching a master of their craft in action. Also you were scared of falling and breaking an arm again.

Fine. Fine. You’ll try one more time.

“Okay, one more time. But this is the last try, or I swear to God I’m going to feed your hamster to Bagel.”

Jisung grips the front of his shirt in mock offense at the threat, his gasps of, “You monster!” trailing you as you stomp off with your skateboard onto the open pavement.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

“Now remember, left foot on the back edge…”

A small breeze had started to pick up, alleviating some of your discomfort. The surrounding air was less stifling now, the wind bringing the scent of freshly cut grass to your senses.

What was this trick called again? A strawberry milkshake? It was one of the “easier” tricks, according to Jisung. If by “easy” he meant that it’s the mental equivalent to stepping on a lego, he was right on. This shit is hard.

The firm hold that Jisung’s hand currently has on your waist makes it even harder. He’s really not helping you focus on the task at hand.

With a deep breath, both in preparation for the trick and to quiet down the rushing of blood in your ears, you repeat the same motion you had been working on for the better portion of the afternoon.

Front foot off. Wrap around. Land.

By Jisung’s reaction, you would think you had won the lottery. He’s pumping both fists in the air and shouting, completely beside himself. You landed it! You really did!

You then proceed to wipe out on the pavement.

Yeah, that checks out.

As you’re brushing the fall from your pants, you are nearly bowled over by Jisung, who sweeps you up and spins you around in a tight hug. The rush of the breeze around you has you laughing breathlessly, holding on to him for dear life.

“Yes! Holy shit, see? I knew you could do it! That was awesome!” He sets you down, looking at you with beams of pride spilling from his crinkled eyes and heart-shaped smile.

“I did it! I finally did it!” You squeal, the adrenaline and genuine excitement of the moment taking control of your body as you bounce up and down, gripping his fingers as you do so.

The grin Jisung gives you is bright enough to light up even the darkest corners of the world, you’re sure of it. You want to keep him in your hands forever and never let go.

But, you do. After a minute of joint celebration, you inform him that you’re going to sit down for a minute to catch your breath.

Finding a nearby tree, you settle beneath its branches, eyes adjusting to the newfound shade. The grass is cool beneath your palms, calming your sun-kissed skin.

As you watch Jisung continue to skate you’re reminded of just how good at this he is. He navigates his skateboard like it’s as simple as walking, every one of his tricks are landed with precision and ease. His habit of biting his lower lip in concentration anytime he performs an air is doing nothing for your sanity though.

Your crippling sweet tooth prods at you, so you decide to reward yourself. Rustling through your bag, you pull out a lollipop, popping it into your mouth. Its tart sweetness bathes your tongue, and you cross your legs, humming contentedly as you resume your attention on Jisung.

After about ten more minutes, he’s jogging over to you with his skateboard in hand. Your heart noticeably picks up its pace. Stop that. Calm down.

Taking a seat next to you, Jisung runs his hand through his sweat-damp hair, one arm supporting his weight and the other coming to rest on his knee. He looks ethereal, skin glowing with the gentle brush of light falling from the tree above.

Then, without so much as a “hello”, the lollipop is yanked from your hand and held out of your grasp.

“Jisung, are you serious? Give it back!” You shout in exasperation at the loss of your sugar source. Is he seven years old? Who does that?

“Nuh-uh, what’s the magic word?” He stretches his arm away as you basically tackle him, reaching vainly for the candy.

“I’m not the one who should be saying please here!”

You have an idea. Grabbing the front of his shirt, you pull him towards you. This is definitely the dumbest thing you’ve done all week. But it’s too late now. You can see his eyes fly wide, trying to process the situation as you plant a kiss right on his lips. He’s soft. And warm.

When you pull away, you take the opportunity to snatch the candy back from Jisung’s now limp hand. Popping the sucker back into your mouth, you grin at him smugly. It worked.

Jisung sits there, unmoving. Lips slightly parted, he stares at you, his gaze shifting from your eyes, fluttering down to your lips, and back again. Shit, was that a bad idea? That was a bad idea. You probably should have asked first. What the fuck were you thinking?

Before you could blurt out any sort of apology, he’s grabbing your hand and the candy is pulled from your lips with a pop. It falls onto the cool grass below.

A shaking hand slots underneath your chin with barely suppressed eagerness and he pulls you to him, capturing your lips in a proper kiss. The heat from his body and the sweep of his breath over you are all-consuming. blocking out the world, save for him.

This. Him. Everything about it just feels… easy. Natural. The way he cradles your jaw firmly, but with a careful gentleness that is entirely and solely Jisung. The way his free hand drapes down your side, coming to rest on top of your hip. The way his lips move in perfect harmony with yours.

The tree’s rough bark presses against your back as he leads you backwards, the sweetness of the lollipop being traded between your mouths. A flame starts to burn in your chest, spreading like wildfire until your whole body is alight with the flicker of butterfly wings.

Drawing away to look at you, Jisung runs his tongue over his glistening lips.

He’s holding himself back. He wants nothing more than to consume you, your essence, everything. He wants to show you how much he cares. He also wants to suck every last drop of sweetness from your lips. But he won’t. Not yet. Not until he knows you want it as much as he does. But, God, you drive him crazy. His eyebrows pinch and he shakes his head, trying to clear it.

You feel the loss of his ministrations on you like a load of bricks. Wrapping a hand around the back of his head, you pull him onto you once more, wanting -no- needing more of him. He needs more of you too, as is evident by the way his hands tighten and by his quiet gasp of breath when you oh-so gently nip his lower lip, teasing him.

This time, you’re the one to pull away, giggling awkwardly as he squeezes his eyes shut, clearly attempting to pull himself together.

Peeking at you, he finally makes eyes contact, feeling the need to say something, anything.

“Wow…” Is all he manages out, and your giggles morph into full on laughter. You make a kissy face at him which earns you a shove to your shoulder, and Jisungs ears turning a bright red.

“Hey! Don’t make fun of me!” he complains, bringing out that pout of his again.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you say, patting his shoulder, “you’re just such a dork.”

With your side of the deal completed, it’s his turn to pay up. With the steadily setting sun lighting your way, Jisung accompanies you to your house after the silent agreement to play games now, sort out weird feelings later.

epilogue ─☆

As your game loads up, Jisung decides to sit on the couch as far away from you as possible, curling up and hunching over his respective screen. Occasionally, he glances up at you, looking like he just got caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

Okay. What is he hiding.

You (with grace) crawl across the couch to him, taking a page from his book and snatching the switch from his hands. He yells and kicks you in protest, but not before you had seen his screen.

J.one J.one’s Farm

Day 9 of Winter, Year 3 124,196g

Hours Spent: 106

One hundred and six hours. Jisung had told you that he’d never heard of the game before, let alone played it, and had very begrudgingly agreed to humor you. This whole time he’d been playing it? Why didn’t he- oh.

Jisung looks up at you with a sheepish grin, having been caught in his little scheme.

“I just wanted you to skate with me- ow!” he exclaims, bringing up his hands in defense as you bonk him with the switch.

“Next time maybe just ask?”

“How would I have gotten my kiss then?”

[steddieasitgoes]

Detours & Second Chances

written for @steddie-week Day 5 prompt: Reunion / Getting Back Together Rating: T | wc: 3545 | no cw Another big thank you to @sidekickjoey and @thefreakandthehair for giving this a beta read for me! Read on ao3

Steve had high hopes for this road trip. 

Just him, the twins, and the wide open roads with the promise of the beach and Disneyland on the horizon. He knew better than to plan it down to the second, especially when traveling with Mabel and Ollie, but he did hope to keep to some kind of schedule. A few nights here, a couple of nights there, a handful of free time hours carved into nearly every day so the kids could pick which tacky roadside attraction they could visit and then gloat to Aunt Robin about seeing. 

What Steve hadn’t planned for was the Winnebago going up in smoke four and a half hours from Disneyland on I-15. 

The good news is that it happened just as they entered Las Vegas, Nevada, and not thirty minutes later in the middle of the Nevada-California desert. The bad news is that it happened just as they entered Las Vegas, Nevada on a Sunday afternoon when everyone was trying to leave. 

Steve expects the drivers around him to curse and flip him off. At the very least, he imagines them shaking their heads in disapproval as they slowly inch past the smoking Winnebago broken down in the middle of the three-lane highway. And there is some of that, honking horns and judgmental gazes, enough that he has to explain to Mabel and Ollie that showing someone your middle finger is not nice and no you shouldn’t do it to each other. But there’s also a handful of Sunday travelers who take pity on him. 

Two truck drivers manage to get their rigs off onto the shoulder and then mosey their way over to see if they can help Steve identify why the RV is smoking. A woman in a mini-van full of preteens in sports jerseys offers him an entire ice chest full of snacks for Mabel and Ollie. Some good Samaritan even makes the half-mile hike to the nearest pay phone to call for a tow truck so Steve doesn’t have to leave the kids or make the track himself with them following behind him. 

Forty-five minutes later, they all climb into a yellow taxi while Winnie the Winnebago gets towed away. For a moment, he thinks he’s ruined the entire vacation, but listening to Mabel and Ollie talk about how cool it was to watch the “toe man” do his job eases the guilt. 

Unfortunately, the repair shop is nowhere near as exciting as standing in the middle of I-15 — at least, that’s what Ollie tells Steve five minutes after they’ve walked into the garage. Steve tries his best to keep everyone’s spirits up in between filing out paperwork and bargaining with the mechanic over the price of the repairs. He lets the kid raid the vending machine and spread it all out on the worn plastic chairs in the makeshift lobby like some kind of five-star buffet. It’s mainly cookies and chips, a few candy bars, and a granola bar Mabel even generously spent $1.10 on for him. 

It’s not the worst meal they’ve had on the trip — that honor goes to the gas station in Kearney, Nebraska, and the hot dogs he knew were a bad idea — but it’s definitely the least nutritious. And, in hindsight, it’s not the best idea now that Mabel and Ollie are hyped up on sugar in a small space with no central air conditioning. He gets it. He’s almost at his wit’s end, too, and he has several decades of patience over them. 

He’s hot and tired and so frustrated, he’d break down and cry if he could, but he doesn’t want to upset the kids or ruin the day more than it’s already been ruined. Instead, he puts on his brave Dad Face™, leaves his pager number with the mechanic’s receptionist, and takes the kids to explore Las Vegas. 

The city wasn’t on their list. It’s not kid-friendly, and the July heat is anything but welcoming, but thankfully, they luck out and stumble across a hybrid game and music store a few blocks away from the repair shop.

The bell above their door announces their entrance to the quiet storefront as the sweet, sweet relief of the AC hits them. Steve closes his eyes, soaking in the cool air for a moment before Mabel and Ollie are tugging on his hands, trying to drag him in different directions. 

Steve knows he should put an end to their bickering that borders on full-on sibling bullying, especially judging by the way they’ve dropped his hand in favor of pinching each other’s arms, but he gets distracted when a figure emerges from the back of the shop. 

The footsteps are uneven, which makes sense when an ornate cane enters Steve’s line of sight. He studies it, taking in the impressive woodwork and paint job — Max’s own can is pretty spectacular, but this one is a close second. Soon, his eyes drift from the cane to the hand holding it, a ring on each finger. Silver and gaudy and eerily similar to—

“Holy shit,” the voice says. “Are my eyes giving out on me too, or is Steve Harrington really standing in my shop right now?” 

Steve’s eyes shoot up to meet the man’s face — to meet Eddie’s face. It’s been years, shit, almost a decade he thinks, but Eddie looks the same. Older, sure. A few wrinkles around his eyes and a softer belly. But he’s still him. Unruly curls barely contained in a bun at the base of his neck, mischievous eyes, and a smile that makes Steve’s stomach flip in a way it hasn’t done in too long. Yup, definitely him.

“Eddie?”

Eddie laughs, throwing his head back with the same carelessness as he had at twenty years old. Only this time, when he rights himself, he has to reach a hand up to his neck to massage the ache. “Man, this is some cosmic, universe shit!” 

“At least it’s the good kind this time,” Steve jokes. 

Eddie goes for a full-on hug, Steve an awkward side one, and as a result, they end up with their bodies smushed against each other, arms pinned between each other in the world’s worst hug of all time. But it’s also the greatest, as far as Steve’s concerned. 

When they separate, Eddie gives Steve a quick once-over before shaking his head again. “So, what brings you all the way to Sin City?” 

“A family road trip.” 

“Ah, so the six nuggets and a Winnebago dream came true, then?” Eddie muses. 

“More like two nuggets, a piece of shit rental that’s in a repair shop after crapping out on me on I-15, and a co-pilot that doubles as my son’s emotional support stuffed animal,” Steve says, then smiles. “But I can’t complain.” 

“Wheeler never jumped on the Harrington Express?” 

Steve’s interrupted by Ollie running at him with a vinyl record thrust above his head. Mabel appears a moment later, holding a giant box in her arms that’s clearly too heavy for her. She passes it to Steve, who hands it over to Eddie, who has taken refuge behind the glass counter. As soon as the kids appear, they’re gone again. Steve shouts after them to stay together and not to touch anything. It goes in one ear and out the other if the loud crash that follows a moment later is anything to go off of. Steve winces and looks at Eddie apologetically. 

“I promise I’ll pay for whatever they break. They’re a little stir-crazy from being stuck at the repair shop all day.” 

Eddie doesn’t look worried about it in the slightest. In fact, Steve’s willing to bet he didn’t even hear the crash, judging by the fond look on his face. It’s a soft smile, almost bittersweet if he had to put a name to it. It looks out of place on his face — almost too earnest, which makes no sense because Eddie is the most earnest guy Steve’s ever known. 

“Eddie?” 

“Huh, what?” Eddie blinks himself back to the present. When he shakes his head, the elastic holding his hair back snaps, sending his curls cascading down to his shoulders. It’s easy now to see the hints of gray peppered into the locks that used to keep Steve up at night — occasionally still keeps him up. 

Steve gestures toward the row where Mabel and Ollie are frantically trying to restack things on the shelves. This time, Eddie snorts and meets Steve's gaze with that familiar crooked smile. 

“Don’t worry about them. S’just boxes and shit.” 

Steve nods and then grabs a pen out of the cup on the glass counter. He twirls it between his fingers, something about the rhythmic motion calming the silly nerves running wild in his body right now. 

It’s just Eddie. 

“Nance would kill you for even thinking she’s a part of this circus,” Steve says, then panics. “To answer your question from before. No misses at all actually. Or misters either,” Steve says before he chickens out. 

Eddie left before he realized that little fun fact about himself. It was ironic (and tragic), considering he’s the reason Steve even realized it to begin with. Chalk it up to cosmic, universe shit — the bad kind that time. 

“Cause that could be an option to, you know. Obviously you know, but it’s an option for me too in case you didn’t know and—“

“Woah, breathe, Steve.” 

Steve takes a slow, deep inhale. His exhale is strong enough to send a few of Eddie’s stray curls fluttering before settling back amongst the rest. “Sorry.” 

“Stop apologizing!” Eddie throws his hand across the counter, squeezing Steve’s wrist, 

It’s silly, but something about the simple touch relaxes the nervous energy that’s taken over him ever since Eddie emerged from the back. A part of Steve wants to blame the relief on the touch, but he knows better. Knows it has everything to do with finally telling Eddie about this part of him he helped him discover. 

Steve’s been out to just about everyone he cares about, and now he’s certain he’s told them all. 

“So no misses or misters,” Eddie says, before hiding his growing smile behind a curl. “What about Buckley? Is she on the great American family road trip with you?” 

“Robin refuses to get into Winnebagos after, well, you know.” 

“Can’t say I blame her for that one.” 

“It’s just me and the kids. Mabel and Ollie. They’re my kids…I mean, well, obviously, they’re mine, and anyone who says they’re not are fucking idiots, but they’re not blood mine or whatever people say.” Christ, he’s rambling again. “I adopted them. Actually, I was supposed to be their temporary foster parent. I was in my second year as a social worker, and they were two and six months old when they came in the middle of a Saturday night and we had no one on standby. They came home with me, and then they just never left.” 

Somewhere in his rambling, Eddie made himself comfortable, pillowing his chin on his hands, elbows sinking into the giant mouse pad that’s stretched out on top of the glass counter. He’s dropped the curl, his bright smile on full display, dimple, and everything when he looks at Steve now. 

“I love a good foster fail story,” he cooed. “I have a few myself. Fosters that turned into full-on adoptions. I mean not human kids, cats. And a few dogs. Even a bird. But they’re my kids, you know. I mean, not that what you did is the same thing as me or anything, but I… I’m just going to stop talking now.”

This time, it’s Steve's hand that breaks the barrier between them, reaching out to pat Eddie on the shoulder. A reassuring thing that he hopes conveys that he’s not offended. Just in case, he spells it out for him verbally too. 

“I get it. Kids mean a lot of things to different people. If you say they’re your kids, they’re your kids,” he says, smiling. “Robin has a plant, Ferguson. When she first got it she carried it around in Ollie’s baby bjorn because she needed to ‘bond’ with it.” 

Eddie laughs, this time hard enough that the case between them vibrates. “Lesbians, and their plants, man.” 

“She rescued it from her ex, who was drowning it.” 

“We’re just all patron saints of lost things, aren’t we?” 

“Guess so.” Steve smiles, then adjusts his own stance so he’s leaning against the counter. Something pops in his back, and for once, he doesn’t make an excuse. Eddie knows all about their aches and pains — the way their bodies are thirty years older than they should be, thanks to their teenage years. He runs a steady hand through his hair, hoping beyond hope that it’s not as greasy as it feels and then turns his attention to Eddie. “What about you? Game and record store sounds like a pretty sweet deal.” 

Eddie blows out air in a whoosh and reaches for another curl. “I mean, yeah, it’s pretty cool. Closest I could get to being a rockstar, I guess.” 

“Do you still play?” 

“Occasionally. There’s a dive bar a few streets over that I perform sometimes. No band, though. At least, not yet. I’m giving myself a few more years; let the gray really come in,” Eddie says, fluffing his curls. “And then I’ll join one of those mid-life crisis dad bands.” 

“Solid plan.” He fiddles with the pen again, contemplating if he should ask what he wants, too. Screw it. Who knows when he’s going to see Eddie again — if it’ll ever happen again. It’s best not to leave anything on the table. “What about a partner?” 

“Me?” Eddie asks, pointing to himself before laughing. “Nope. No partner. No lovers either, really. It’s just me and the petting zoo. And Wayne, when the old man makes the trip out to visit me.” 

Eddie being alone all these years shouldn’t make Steve happy. He should want him to be settled by now, grossly in love with someone who makes him feel special like he deserves. But Steve’s heart is a traitor, and his brain is no better, already imagining ten different ways he could change that. 

Had he known Eddie’s been in Vegas alone all this time, he would have visited a lot sooner. Hell, he would have made this their final destination — he’s sure he could find something family-friendly here for Mabel and Ollie. There’s a lake around here or some shit, right? They could have—

“Shit,” Steve says, reaching for his beeping pager. The repair shop number appears on the small screen. “Could I borrow your phone? This is the repair shop.” 

“I suppose I could make an exception on my no-customers rule,” Eddie teases. “Phones in my office, straight back there.” 

Steve nods and rounds the counter towards the backroom but stops short. The kids. He almost forgot about the kids. “Do you mind keeping an eye on them?” Steve asks, tilting his head to Mabel and Ollie who have finally picked up the mess they created. 

“Of course! Don’t worry about them. I’m great with kids.” 

“I remember.” 

___

Eddie’s office isn’t unlike his teenage bedroom Steve spent many nights in. It has his typical brand of messiness but with an added layer of professionalism. Like, there’s an honest-to-God filing cabinet in the corner, but next to it is a three-foot-tall Yoda statue.  Papers lay haphazardly on the desk beside a calculator. 

There are posters all over the walls — some Steve recognizes, some he doesn’t — and endless photographs in mismatched frames. At least three wallet-sized frames with pictures of his pets — kids — sit on the desk. There’s one of Wayne and Eddie on his graduation day on the bookshelfnbeside photos of him with Dustin and some of the other kids over the years. 

He even spots himself amongst the familiar faces — a polaroid they took one summer in Hawkins. It feels like a lifetime ago, but a part of Steve remembers what it was like to have Eddie’s arm slung around him like that with the sun beating down their faces, causing them to squint in the photo because Jonathan refused to shoot directly into the sunlight. 

Steve gives himself another second to soak in Eddie’s office, searching for any other details he can find to fill in the years he’s missed — a pride flag draped over a chair, his business license framed on the wall, packs of half-used nicotine gum instead of cartons of cigarettes. Finally, he makes it to the phone and punches in the number of the repair shop. 

___

When Steve resurfaced twenty minutes later, the neon “open” sign that flickered in the window had been shut off. Eddie’s abandoned his post behind the counter, taking up space at a table in the game section of the store. Mabel and Ollie are sitting on either side of him, listening intently with wide eyes as he moves two figures across a board toward a hoard of waiting miniature figures. 

“I leave you for twenty minutes, and you’re already corrupting them with your nerd games?” Steve teases, ruffling both Mabel and Ollie’s hair in the process. 

Eddie scoffs. “You expect me to believe Dustin hasn’t put them through D&D boot camp yet? Please.” 

“Your stories are nothing like Dustin’s,” Ollie says, voice full of awe. 

“Yeah, he always wants to skip the fun adventure stuff and get straight to the battles,” Mabel chimes in. “That's why we like it when Daddy gets to be in charge.” 

Eddie’s head swivels so fast that the irrational part of Steve’s brain fears it’s going to fly right off. “You DM for them?” 

 “I wouldn’t call it Dungeon Master-ing,” Steve says, grabbing the back of his neck. The room feels ten times hotter all of a sudden. The AC must have shut off, he reasons. There’s no other explanation for his sudden flush. Not at all. “I really just make sh— stuff up.” 

“He’s the best make-believer! You should play with us sometime. Like tonight!” 

“Mabel, Eddie’s busy running this store; he can’t just stop to play with you. And besides, we have to get going soon.” 

“They fixed Winnie?” Ollie asks, jumping up from his seat. 

Steve sighs. “Not yet. That’s why we have to leave. I need to find somewhere for us to sleep tonight that’s—

“—I have a guest room.”

Steve blinks. Is Eddie offering his place to them? His hearing may be spotty lately, but he’s never imagined entire phrases before. Which means—

“I mean if you want,” Eddie says sheepishly this time. “I have a hoard of kittens running around right now, so if you’re allergic, it might not be the best place but—“

“Kittens!” Mabel squeals before rapidly asking Eddie a hundred questions about them, but he doesn’t stand a chance of answering. 

“Can’t we stay at his house, Daddy?” 

“I really do have a spare bedroom and bathroom. Plus, a couch and a semi-stocked fridge. And I wouldn’t charge you. The hotels around here are going to sense your need and charge you an arm and a leg, trust me.”

Steve would be stupid to turn it down. A free stay in an actual house. A meal he can cook with his own two hands that don’t involve a shitty stove that gives out after a few minutes. Not to mention, a shower with actual hot water. 

Plus, it comes with the added bonus of a few more hours with Eddie. Yeah, there’s not a chance in hell he’s turning that down. Not again. 

“Alright, yeah. Let’s do it.” Mabel and Ollie shout in excitement, spinning around the table. Eddie might not have the same energy level as them to join them, but his smile says it all. 

“It’ll be just like old times.” 

“Wait! You guys know each other?”

Steve laughs first, but soon Eddie’s cackle joins him and it really does feel like old times again. “Of course, I know him. What? You think I would let us stay in a stranger’s house? Don’t you know me at all?” 

___

Three days later, Steve finds himself behind the wheel of Winnie the Winnebago as she makes her grand return to I-15. When he glances over his shoulder as the traffic crawls for miles in front of him, he spots Mabel and Ollie throwing Fruit Loops at each other to see who can catch the most in their mouth. And when he looks to his right, Eddie’s there — feet up on the dash, hands protectively clutching Ollie’s teddy bear as if he’s hoping it offers him the same comfort it does for the six-year-old — handsome as ever.

“Didn’t think I’d ever be back in one of these,” he says fondly. “Especially not with you behind the wheel.” 

“Really?” Steve lets the corners of his lips twitch upward. Doesn’t try to fight the blush he knows is creeping across his cheeks. “‘Cause this is all I’ve thought about for years.” 

[sweetestcaptainhughes]

cat got your tongue - Cole Caufield

Word Count - 3k

Requested - Yes a mutual dared me weeks ago to write a entire fic only about Cole Caufield's tongue.

Author's Note - thank you as always for reading. 💞🫶🏻 This literally took me forever to write because writers block is very real even when you love an idea, also I got this request back in the middle of July before anyone wants to come into my asks. I'm not sure if I like this ending, but that might just be me being my biggest critic.

Warnings - oral receiving but I think that's kind of obvious given the title of this fic. 🤣

Summary - Cole finally convinces you to come to one of his games, but what happens when all you can focus on is the way he sticks his tongue out during a celly.

Tonight was the first time that Cole has finally convinced you to come to one of his games. To be fair you did just meet the guy a month ago in a bar. Unlike Cole, you did not know everything when it came to hockey which could have been one of the reasons that you weren’t pressed on going as soon as Cole brought up the idea. But his constant insisting that turned into begging which was kind of hot finally got you here. In the back of a shared Uber with your friend who actually knows hockey and said she would tag along to explain what the fuck everyone is doing on the ice. At the end of the day trying to learn all the rules of a sport you never even watched was hard. 

Just to mess with Cole a little, you did purchase one of his jerseys which granted a lot of money. But your friend who came along with you to the game, insisted to “do it for the plot.” So here you both are, you in his jersey, entering the arena. Due to the amount of time it took to get through security, you weren’t able to be in your seat until after warm ups had already started. Your seat was center ice but a few rows back purely because you told Cole if he thought your ass was sitting front row at your first ever NHL game, you would simply walk out because you didn’t wanna accidentally end up caught on TV looking like someone who had no idea what was happening around her. 

As soon as Cole saw you, he skated over to the bench although you couldn’t see what he was doing talking to one of the trainers you assumed. He then skated over and started bouncing what looked like the nearest puck on his stick as many times as he could and then passing it over the glass. A fan tried to take it, but he shook his head no and pointed at you. Then he threw another one over for the little boy who was a couple seats down from you, before skating off continuing on with warmups. 

“Why was that kind of hot?” you whispered to your friend. 

“Wow who knew a basic white boy would have you down this bad?” she teased.

“Bitch shut up.” you said before you finally looked down at the puck. Cole must have asked the trainer for a marker and signed the puck before coming over. 

You look hot with my name on you. Meet me in the tunnels after the game. 

Deciding not to tell your friend about the message you look up to see Cole sitting on the bench now making direct eye contact with you as he watches you read his message. Nodding your head yes and mouthing ‘okay’, even from the other side of the arena the smile that spreads across his face is seen clearly from your seat. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cole was literally playing like his life depended on it tonight. Now granted you might not understand all the little detailed rules when it comes to hockey. But you knew an assist was a good thing, in period one alone Cole had 2 assists and something about the way that he got one knee skating for a celly with his tongue slightly sticking out. Something that is so simple, made you feel your stomach drop, getting more and more turned the second time he did it. 

During intermission, you and your friend went to the bathroom and maybe it was the 3 beers you consumed but somehow you both started joking around about what your friend calls “your new fetish Cole’s tongue.” Jokingly you stuck your tongue out ever so slightly. Not realizing in that millisecond your friend took a mirror selfie, your side to the mirror the famous ‘22’ on display with Caulfeild, sticking your tongue out ever so slightly with your butt teasingly pushed up. Honestly, you kind of looked hot in the picture and made a mental note to ask your friend to send the picture to you later. 

As the first intermission was about to end you just made it back to your seat. Cole was able to pull off another assist during the second period. Your friend who has been a fan of the Hubs her entire life told you that you're never allowed to miss a game again because if this was how the rest of the season was gonna go they might make it to the playoffs. All you could do was chuckle at her superstitious behavior. But stopped when the fans around her were agreeing with her when she told them this was your first ever game, Cole invited you and this is how he was playing. 

“Oh my god please stop. I don’t want my life to end on twitter. Y/B/F/N.” you begged, taking your hand and covering her mouth. She drunkenly agreed to stop and both of you turned your attention back to the game. Even when he wasn’t on the ice, your eyes couldn’t leave Cole. Every once in a while he would catch you staring at him and making a teasing face back at you, pecking his lips, or sticking his tongue out extra far in order to get an air sip of his water. Every time he did all you could think about was his tongue wrapping around the clit or lapping your pussy like it was on display right now for thousands to see. Every time he was on the bench and went to lick his lips you found yourself squirming in your seat. All your friend could do was roll her eyes at your behavior. 

Somehow you made it to the third period, but that’s when Cole scored a goal. You swear it was just to tease you, he skated past your section sticking his tongue out and wiggling it. “Fuck” you mumble to yourself. 

“Y/N there are children around. Stop ya nasty!” your friend says as she can’t help the laugh that escapes her. Your mind couldn’t stop thinking about sitting on top of Cole’s face or him on his knees with one of your legs over his shoulders. As you rolled your hips against his tongue dragged. - 

Suddenly your brain was brought back to real time as the final buzzer went off. Everyone around you cheered as the HUBS won a shutout - which your friend just told you is what it’s called when the other team doesn’t score a single goal during a game. But to be perfectly honest you weren’t really paying attention to your friend explaining any more slang hockey terms, your eyes focused on Cole as he skated around the ice with his teammates celebrating. The crowd was going crazy as it was the only shutout in what seemed like a lifetime, you could feel the energy of the crowd as you felt your body slightly move with all the jumping fans around you. Cole finally looked over at you from center ice and smiled. He titled his head towards the tunnels slightly reminding you of the puck and the note written on it, you nodded your head yes as you felt your cheeks heat up slightly from anticipation. 

Slowly the crowd started leaving once the boys were leaving the ice, finally there was enough room for you and your friend to make your way to the steps. 

“Hey thanks for coming by the way.” as you stop at the top of the steps. 

“It was fun. Are you ready to go?” 

“Actually Cole told me to meet him in the tunnels after the game.” you admit a light blush still painting your cheeks. 

“ooo okay have fun girly. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t. Text me when you get back to his place.” As she wraps her arms around you to hug you goodbye quickly. 

A laugh escapes your lips at your friend's words. “What do you mean ‘his place'?” Making a quotation sign with your hand. 

“Well we both know you aren’t going home tonight. You know you'll be busy with him, I’ll just check your location.” 

Before you could open your mouth she turned around and was gone. All you could do is laugh as you stood there and watched her walk away. Quickly you turned around and started walking towards the other side of the arena where the tunnels were. Somehow managing to find your way around, you pulled your phone out to text Cole that you were waiting outside of the locker room for him after being stopped by security, but thankfully the pass Cole gave you just in case came in handy. Standing against the wall scrolling Twitter while you waited for Cole to be done. 

Somehow the fan girls work faster than you could have ever imagined because someone made a gif of Cole’s tongue sticking out as he skated against the glass during his celly earlier tonight. Watching the gif over and over your breath caught in your throat as all your thoughts form earlier tonight just wanting to want Cole sink to his knees in front of you and eat you out came flooding back. Imagining your hand in his hair helping his face grind against using his tongue for nothing else except your own pleasure. Your mind was wandering and you could feel yourself dripping at the thought of making Cole sink to his knees, you refusing to pull his hair at first as punishment for teasing you all night. 

Lost in your own thoughts you didn’t even hear Cole leaving the locker room or coming up to you. Cole knew you were lost in your own world and decided to scare you by running up to you from behind wrapping his arms around you and leaving a wet kiss on your cheek. All that could be heard in the mostly quiet hallway now since he was one of the last players out was his laugh as you squirmed in his arms. “Ew Cole let me down.” you shirked in a high pitch voice he laughed in response spinning you around one more time before setting you down. 

“So how did you like watching me play?” he asked, finally facing you, still trying to hold you as close as possible. 

“It was good. It was actually kind of hot watching you play.” you admit with a smirk on your lips. 

Cole gives you a puzzling look as he questions, “oh yeah?” in a teasing tone. 

All you do is flash him a cheeky grin as you admit, “yeah watching you do your little celly on the ice was so hot, but I just kept watching you stick your tongue out all night.” Leaning up to his ear despite no one being around you whispered, “all I could think about was getting you to sink to your knees so I could ride your face, one leg over your shoulder, my back against the wall and not let you touch yourself as punishment for teasing me all night. My hands in your hair pulling and tugging as much as I wanted. All while your tongue is busy, so you can’t even beg me to let you touch yourself to give your hard cock some relief.” 

As you lean back only far away enough to see his face, his mouth is ajar in shock at your words. It’s as if he’s processing your words and for the first time in his life he’s quiet for more than a minute, you decide to further tease him while he stands there frozen. “What’s the matter baby boy, cat got your tongue?” A smirk on your lips as you watch him blink, as if his brain has finally caught up to the world around him. 

“No, not yet.” His voice is an octave deeper than before filled with lust. Suddenly he’s pulling you down the hallway towards the parking garage. “But it will be.” 

But just as you were about to exit the stadium to enter the connected parking garage, Cole made a sharp left turn down a separate hallway. “Where are we going?” you ask. 

“Oh, we're making your words reality mamas.” As he opens a door and suddenly you find yourself in some type of equipment storage closet. In the corner is an extra medical bed, and there are sticks everywhere along another wall. But you don’t have too much time to examine the room before you feel Cole behind you after he locks the door. “ Kissing down your neck, blowing air into your ear and all you can do is compliment him by sighing at the feeling. 

Quickly you regain your composure and turn around in his arms, finding his lips and kissing him hard. Fighting for dominance, and smirking when you slip your tongue into his mouth, he moans as a response and you can feel your underwear being damp from the sound he makes. Pushing him off of yourself quickly. You take a step back, you're against the wall now as you unbuckle your jeans. He says to you “have I told you how pretty you look with my name on your back.” 

Holding your hand up against his chest to stop him from getting any closer to you.”naw ah ah. Let’s put that tongue to good use, less yapping yeah?” Even though you phrase it as a question, your tone is stern and demanding. Taking your left hand that wasn’t on Cole’s chest you move it to his shoulder slightly pushing him down so he’s on his knees. The way he glances up to you with his now darker blue eyes could have made you come right there. Trying to take a breath without showing him how much control he really does have over you at the moment. Pulling your jeans down the rest of the way and stepping out of them, slipping your shoes so you can slip your skinny jeans off the rest of the way. 

Looking down at Cole in a full suit, suddenly deciding he’s in too much clothing as he kisses your exposed thighs in front of you. “Take. Off. Your. jacket.” 

“Yes Momas.” he says, taking his suit jacket, refusing to lose eye contact with you. He tosses the jacket somewhere behind him joining your jeans. He sticks his tongue out to tease you more as you throw your right leg over his shoulder. 

“Don’t even think about teasing Cole.” you grunt. He moves your underwear to the side swiping up and down your cunt in quick motions. “You wanna be a good boy right?” you ask as you tug slightly on his hair. 

“Hmm.” he moans as a yes on your clit, closing your eyes at the taste. Taking your hands you tug hard on his hair. 

“No, gotta keep your eyes open. I wanna see you while I grind on your face.” As you start to lightly roll your hips, Cole’s hands find the flesh of your ass and back of your thighs. He pulls you closer and starts kneading the soft flesh looking directly up to you as he moves his tongue down to your hole. Pushing in and out teasingly as his nose bumps his nose against your clit. “Fuck Cole.” you moan as you push your shoulders against the door, throwing your head back, closing your eyes at the feeling. Your hands go under the jersey finding your boobs squeezing them through your bra trying to play with your nipples. And then you feel Cole move his head so slightly causing a new angle as you roll your hips against his face even harder. “Fuck right there baby. Don’t stop.” you whine. So much for being in control but right now you couldn’t give a fuck with how good Cole was making you feel. 

Cole goes back up with his tongue to do circles over your clit driving so crazy. You don’t even realize one of his hands leaves your ass and his fingers find your hole abusing it even more than his tongue was a minute ago. “Fuck Cole I’m close.” you warn and that’s all you have time to grunt out before your vision blurs and you feel your legs shake, if it hadn’t been for Cole holding you upright you would have fell. He continues to eat you lapping up all your juices until your legs stop shaking and your breathing isn’t so ragged. 

Gently he removes his face from your pussy, careful to keep a steady grip on your legs so you stay up right. He slowly makes his way up to you, pulling you into a kiss so you can taste yourself and all you can do is moan in response. “Usually it takes more than a guy eating you out to feel this tired but holy shit Cole.” you mumble leaning your head on his shoulder closing your thighs. 

“Come on, let's get you dressed.” he says, reaching down for your jeans that were thrown away earlier. 

“No.” you whine. “ I’m not leaving you with this.” As you gently take one of your hands to slightly cup his bulge in his suit pants. He hisses in response. “See your in pain.” you complain.

“I’ll be fine. You just said your tired baby.” he argues. Looking back over at the medical examination bed in the corner of the room you get an idea. Slowly taking one of his hands you turn and walk backwards towards the bed guiding Cole with you. Letting go of his hand, you slip your underwear off the rest of the way and throw in his direction. He catches it on reflex sucking in a breath as feel the medical table behind you. Slowly you climb on and scoot all the way back. 

“I’m not too tired for you. Take what you need. Be good for me, make me cum again baby boy.” you beg as you lay down and spread your legs for Cole to have a perfect few of your still dripping pussy from your first orgasim. 

“Fuck. how did I get so lucky to get you.” he mumbles to himself as you watch him undress and make his way over to you.

[halfagonyandhope]

ignite the stars │ch. 5

first chapter (x); previous chapter (x)

Satine Kryze is an internationally-recognized scholar in genocide studies who recently resigned from the Department of State over her concerns regarding the agency's ethics. Ben Kenobi is a tenured professor at Georgetown University studying the use of religion to justify military conflicts. Once high school sweethearts, the two haven't spoken since parting ways for university. That is, until Satine accepts a research fellowship - at Georgetown.

---

“So, Satine, how does a woman like you end up in a field like this?”

Satine, Ben, Ventress, and Quinlan Vos are at a small bar a few blocks away from campus. This particular bar is, apparently, their go-to - on account of the drinks being a couple dollars more expensive than the bars that surround it, thereby keeping the undergrads and grad students from passing over its threshold. And indeed, the patrons are mostly postdocs or early career professors, making the atmosphere feel more akin to a coffee shop than a typical university bar.

Vos smiles over his drink. With his broad shoulders and towering nearly six and a half foot frame, he’s the most physically imposing person Satine has ever met, but she suspects his question was designed to be lighthearted. The answer is anything but, and she feels Ben’s thigh tense next to her in the booth.

Satine gives a short, rehearsed answer. “I was born in Srebrenica in 1988. My mother and I sought asylum in Norway in July 1995.”

Vos inhales sharply.

“Fuck,” says Ventress, and more emotion passes her face in that moment than Satine has seen in the entire preceding week.

Satine nods. “The only appropriate response,” she says to Ventress.

Ben, of course, already knows Satine’s history, so Satine is not surprised when his fingers brush against hers underneath the table to send her silent support. Instead of letting him retreat, she twines her fingers with his, and she feels him relax, resting their joined hands against the outside of his thigh.

Vos, looking apologetic, tries to steer the conversation toward less horrific subjects. “Asajj tells me you and Kenobi go way back,” he says as Ventress swirls her mix drink around in its glass.

Ben’s eyes are simultaneously exasperated and shooting daggers. “I never did enjoy hanging out with you,” he says to Vos.

Vos just grins.

But Satine would rather talk about Ben than what happened in Srebrenica any day. “After my mother passed away,” she says, “I was adopted by a wealthy Norwegian couple. They recognized my academic ambition and encouraged me to apply to Andover for high school. Ben and I were in the same graduating class.”

“Kenobi does give off elite prep school vibes,” Ventress says, cackling. “I should have figured.”

Satine laughs, a deep and genuine laugh. “It’s the posh accent,” she agrees, squeezing Ben’s hand so he knows she is joking. He squeezes back, eyes still deliberately facing forward at Vos and Ventress.

“That accent does him no favors, you know,” says Vos. “He’s had at least one female admirer ask him out while she was getting help on an assignment.”

“I believe there were two admirers,” corrects Ventress. “My office is on the other side of his, and last year I heard him politely turning down a young man. I hope you reported him to the department, Kenobi. The way he haunted your office hours was a bit much.”

“Thank you, Ventress, for your concern,” says Ben, as Satine’s eyes go wide. “And, yes, he was reassigned to a section with a different lecturer. I think Windu was a better fit for his learning style, anyway.”

Vos nearly spits out his beer.

Satine rubs her thumb over Ben’s knuckle. “I’ve never had to deal with students, thank god,” she admits. “Even as a postdoc, they recognized I did not have the patience to handle them. Somehow, my funding always seemed to be covered fully by research rather than teaching.”

The others laugh at this, and it feels good - normal - to be able to speak plainly about academia so openly. She is not made to be a teacher, even if her calling is academia. And finally, here are three others who understand.

“But Ben tells me you two eloped and then went up for the same job?” Satine asks. “There has to be a good story there.”

Ventress’ eyes sparkle, and she gestures at Vos. “You tell it better,” she says to him.

He grins. “This was about - what? Three years ago? At any rate, Kenobi here had just introduced us. By the end of that conversation - ”

“During which I was completely forgotten,” interjects Ben, “so rather than third-wheeling it, I just saw myself out.”

Satine snickers as Vos continues. “By the end of the conversation, Asajj and I were exclusive. Six weeks later, we both knew this was it, so we booked a flight to Samoa so my family could be witnesses.” He tosses an arm around Ventress’ shoulders. “And the rest, shall we say, is history.”

Ventress purses her lips. “We almost were history for a moment - we had a rather vicious fight over the honeymoon when we heard about the tenure track position that opened up in the department.”

Satine tilts her head. “Over who would apply?”

Ventress smiles. “In a sense. I wanted only him to apply, and he wanted only me to.”

Satine grins at this. “Now that is love.”

Ventress leans forward slightly. “We knew one of us would get it. We just didn’t know which one. So we compromised. It worked out better than we anticipated.”

“Understatement of the century,” says Ben, taking another sip of his cider. 

“I guess they were worried that if they offered just the one spot, we’d pack up and leave once the pair of us found a dual hire option someplace else,” supplies Vos. “To be fair, it was a reason to be worried. We would have moved practically anywhere that offered us both tenure track positions.”

Satine leans back in the booth, grateful for the warmth of Ben’s shoulder against her own. “Well, I for one am pleased that an academic department made a wise choice. For once.” She smiles wryly. “Is such competence typical for our department?”

Ben shakes his head, chuckling. “They’ve made exactly one other good decision, and it was to fund the research fellowship that brought you here. But even that decision is debatable - because I’ve heard it’s only a one year fellowship with no chance of renewal? They’d be foolish to let you go.”

Satine can’t help the blush that spreads across her face, her chest. Her heart feels like it’s practically glowing.

“As much as I hate to agree with Kenobi,” says Ventress, “he’s right. They’re really planning on letting you just move on after the fellowship is complete?”

“To be honest,” Satine says, “I haven’t allowed myself to think that far ahead yet. Leaving State was…an ordeal. I’m just pleased to not have to worry about a retaliatory firing.”

Ventress moves forward again. “Now, that sounds like a story.”

Satine sighs. “It is,” she acknowledges. “But one that I can’t say much about for legal reasons. However, I’m sure anything you can speculate would be pretty close to the truth.”

Ben pulls her hand to his lap and covers it with his other hand briefly before pulling that hand back above the table, careful not to give away too much. “As I’m sure you know, there are legal protections in place for whistleblowers,” he says.

Satine holds his gaze. “I’d need a lot more than legal protection to be compelled to speak about what happened,” says Satine softly.

If it’s possible to see someone’s heart break in real time, Satine witnesses it in Ben’s eyes. “I didn’t realize it was that serious.”

Ventress’ expression turns dark. “If it is that serious, all the more reason not to talk about it in a public bar,” she warns, and Ben nods.

“Of course. Forgive me.”

Ventress nudges Vos, and Vos stands. “Pool?” he says to Ben, and Ben squeezes Satine’s fingers one last time before sliding out of the booth to follow Vos. 

Ventress leans over to Satine. “This is the last I’ll say on it, but…” She trails off, looking around to make sure no one is listening in on their conversation. “If there’s anything I can do, let me know.”

Satine doesn’t know Ventress’ history, but she does know that she wants Ventress on her side. She smiles softly. “That means a lot. Thank you.”

Ventress swirls her drink again before taking a sip. “And speaking of things I can do for you…I was sleeping with Kenobi for over a year, and never once did he look at me the way he looks at you. That man is besotted.”

Satine’s eyes flash to Ben, leaning over the pool table, lining up a shot. 

“It’s not that the feeling isn’t mutual,” she hedges. “There’s just a lot of history there, and a lot of complication.”

Ventress grins. “Complication is what makes it fun.”

---

The foursome eventually part ways just outside the bar, with Vos and Ventress catching a Georgetown University shuttle to the Dupont Circle Metro entrance. Ben watches Ventress lean into Vos, Vos’ arm around her shoulders, with a faraway look on his face. Then he turns to Satine.

“Which way is your bus stop?” he asks.

“I was going to walk home,” Satine says. “It’s just over a mile from here, so not too bad.”

Ben’s eyes surveil the dark and shadows, and Satine knows what he’s going to say before he says it. “Let me walk you there.”

She’s already protesting before he finishes the sentence. “That’s hardly necessary - ” she begins, but he cuts her off.

“Humor me,” he says. “Or, at least, humor the eighteen-year-old version of me.”

She glares at him. “That’s cheating.”

“I never claimed to play fair.”

He offers her his elbow, and she loops her arm around his.

“On the contrary,” she says as they begin to walk in the direction of her condo. “You are the straightest arrow I’ve ever encountered.”

Ben hums. “Must be something about you that makes me forget the rules, then.”

Satine looks over at him. “Did Ventress have the same effect on you, I wonder?” she asks softly. There’s no jealousy in her tone, merely curiosity, and it surprises even her.

Ben takes a second to answer, weighing his words. “I wanted her to,” he eventually admits. “I dove into her wanting to fall in love. She helped me realize I was really using her to try to fall out of love.” He shakes his head ruefully. “Remarkable woman, and she deserved better. I’m glad she has it now. I’m very grateful she doesn’t hold it against me. Much.”

As Satine ponders this, Ben continues.

“But what about you? I can’t imagine you’ve been single all this time.”

They cross the street, arms still tangled together, legs mirroring each other’s cadence. “That would depend on your definition of the word single,” says Satine. “I don’t really date, not in the traditional sense of the word. I find most people incapable of being able to hold an intelligent conversation. And those who can tend to be - there’s no way to say this kindly - lacking adequate knowledge of female anatomy.”

Ben throws his head back in laughter. “So you’re saying the Venn diagram of people who capture your intellectual interest and who can get you off are two separate circles.”

“Not entirely. There was one suitor. It was a long time ago, so I can hardly recall details. But he had a charmingly adorable, horrendous haircut. And he was terribly eager to please. He might have been inexperienced, but that eagerness made for great sex.”

Ben waits to answer as they pass a group of bar-hoppers. When they’re out of earshot, he says, “Sounds promising. I bet he’s gained experience since then. Perhaps he could even teach you a thing or two, these days.”

They pass underneath a streetlight, and Satine turns to him. “I don’t even know if he’s still interested, yet alone emotionally available. It’s…been many years, as I said.”

Ben turns his head so that his lips nearly touch her ear. “I’d wager a bet that he’s still very interested. Single, too. But if you’re looking for emotional availability,” he adds, pulling away slightly and holding her gaze, “I’m not sure your suitor would meet that prerequisite.”

Satine stops, pulling Ben around to face her. “You know how some job postings note that they’re willing to consider applicants who don’t necessarily meet all of the qualifications?”

Ben nods, brow furrowed.

“If I could, I’d like to tell that boy - to tell the man he’s become - that you don’t need to meet or exceed all the prerequisites to apply.” She bites her lip, wondering if she’s been too bold. “He would likely find I’m not as emotionally available as I’d like to be, either. But maybe it’s something he and I could work on together.”

His eyes widen, and he swallows nervously. Then he nods.

As he begins to step forward, Satine pulls him back. “Ben,” she says. “I’m only a few more blocks up the road. I’ll see myself the rest of the way.”

“If it’s just a few more blocks, it’s really no trouble - ”

“You misunderstand,” says Satine. “The trouble would be that once we arrive, I’d inevitably invite you inside. And I want us both to think about this before we make any rash decisions.”

His pupils dilate. Then his expression softens. “Any decision involving you would never be rash,” he says. “Or regretted. But I’ll honor your request, Madam Secretary.”

She pulls her arm from his, but before she pulls away completely, she’s overcome by impulse, and she throws her arms around his shoulders. He tenses, but she says, “Humor me. Or, at least, humor the eighteen-year-old version of me.”

And he relaxes against her, his arms looping around her waist.

Satine breathes him in and fights the tears she knows are coming. “I missed you, Ben. So very much.”

His arms tighten around her. “I never stopped thinking about you,” he murmurs.

She pulls back slightly, and his hands fall to her hips. Her breath fogs the air between them, and she can literally see him inhale the molecules she’d just breathed out.

“I should go,” she says, one hand raising of its own accord to cradle his jaw, the wiry hair of his beard unfamiliar and new to her. She smirks. “I think I’ve decided I like the beard,” she says. “It may hide a bit too much of your handsome face, but somehow it still suits you.”

And before she loses her nerve, she turns on her heel, leaving him behind.

[gvtted-ratz]

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Look Outside The Window

Jay Merrick/Skully x M!Reader

Last Edited: July 4, 2021 12:03 AM

TW: stalking, obsessive behavior

Requested: no

AO3 LINK -> HERE

Notes: these used 2 be posted but i deleted them after some comments made me hate them. however, i found them again recently n may end up adding more. i also do not hate them anymore. tws will be in the notes before every chapter and some will be put in the additional tags. the character is also in the notes/summary before each chapter. (The 1st 4 r old n unedited)

You had needed an out. You needed to get away from home. Your parents did nothing but trap you there. You couldn’t make your own decisions or even buy anything with your own money without them talking you down or insulting you over it. They wanted you to live with them and go by their rules. They didn’t care about what you wanted in life and only saw you as their “little boy”. You weren’t a child anymore; you were a young adult. They were constantly trying to infantilize you and you hated it. You were a young adult and you needed to branch out, make mistakes, and move on. So that’s what you did. You left home after finding a house-sitting job.

The job would last a few months, which was odd to you. Why house sit for months on end? The owners didn’t tell you anything. You didn’t even call. You emailed them and they emailed you. Every interaction with the couple was through emails. Or at least, you think the person messaging you is in a relationship. It sounded that way. One part of the email said, “We’ll be leaving the house to you. My partner and I are going on vacation for a few months. You can watch and live in the house while there. Your pay will be sent to you in a check via mail. The groceries will be delivered to you once a week. May you watch it carefully.” The last part gave you a sense of foreboding, almost like you should be watching out for something out in the house deep in the woods.

When you had arrived at the house, you were pleasantly surprised to find it very tidy. Everything was spotless in the two-story home. It held four bedrooms and three bathrooms. There was a dining room, living room, family room, kitchen, foyer, dressing area, and a nook. Overall, a large house. Well, a large house for a simple couple. Perhaps the couple has quite a bit of money? Especially if they’re going on vacation for a few months and are paying you a large sum to simply watch the lonely house in the woods.

The first few days were fine. Nothing really happened other than the feeling of being watched. What creeped you out the most though was that you never heard any birds. It was always silent outside. Silent and still. There was barely any wind thanks to the dense forestry. Despite that, the feeling of being watched continued. Sometimes, though, you would hear gentle buzzing in your ears. It reminded you of bees but it sounded more like an old tape. Whenever you heard it, it seemed like static covered your eyesight. You could still see, but the static was like a film over your sight. Whenever you would look in the mirror, your eyes seemed to have a slight glaze over them. Of course, there wasn’t much you could do and no amount of searching the internet seemed to help.

By the second week, you were hearing birds. There was something… off about them. They didn’t sound lively. They sounded hollow. Almost like something was mimicking them. You would hear them next to whichever window you were closest to as well. It was like something was by the window, mimicking the birds only when you’re there. It didn’t happen all throughout the day either. It only happened when you weren’t doing something. If you were to turn off the television, ready to get started on a meal, the chirping and singing would start up. Because of how hollow and synthetic it sounded, shivers would run all over your body. It didn’t help that the static over your vision seemed to get slightly worse whenever it would happen; the buzzing in your ears also seemed to get louder. At night, however, there was no chirping or singing. The static seemed to have tripled at that point though and the buzzing was so loud that you could barely hear your heartbeat and breathing.

By the first month, you were looking outside constantly. The bird noises seemed to happen constantly by now and notes started to appear around your home. When you would try to sleep, the hollow tune of the birds would be there despite the fact that no birds were out. The buzzing was so loud that it was all you would hear. The static was so bad that it completely covered your sight; it was like looking at a static screen. The notes terrified you. There were never any footprints in the snow outside and you were the only one in the home. You believed, at first, that you were writing them. Maybe you had been half asleep and wrote them. But that changed when the notes didn’t match your handwriting and started to be… weird.

You look handsome today. One said. Do you like the birds? They don’t seem very lively though. Another read. I wish you would see me. You always know I’m there thanks to the static and buzzing. Maybe we’ll meet soon. More and more would come in. They were always placed where you’d see them. A window. The fridge. Even on the television. They were taped there, all signed with an S. One was even on your bedroom door. How did someone get in and out without leaving any footprints or any evidence behind? You didn’t know but it started to make you close every curtain and try to raise the volume of everything, trying so hard to drown out the unlively birds.

Today was just like the last few. The static over your vision makes it hard to see right with how thick it is. The buzzing in your ears is loud, but not loud enough to drown out the synthetic birds. You make breakfast for yourself, dressed in some simple sleepwear. The breakfast you make doesn’t take too long, just some scrambled eggs and toast with jam. You eat in silence; well, not entirely in silence thanks to the buzzing and birds. When you finish your breakfast, you wash the plate and other utensils you had used to make your meal. Once done, you decided to do some light stretching in the living room. There wasn’t much you could do in the home. Outside was too cold for you to explore the wilderness without sustaining frostbite.

All of the curtains were closed except for one. It was the closest to the television. You were going to close it before spotting the note taped on the box. You stare at the note before tearing it off the screen. It reads: Look Outside The Window . You pause, staring at the note. The buzzing slowly starts to get louder just as the static over your sight starts to worsen. The birds, however, stop chirping. There’s only the buzzing. Slowly, you look towards the window. Nothing. Nothing but still snow.

A small smile worms its way only your face, mocking. A small, forced chuckle leaves your lips before you turn around, ready to head back into the kitchen to make some tea to calm your beating heart. You freeze though when you see the figure standing in the doorway. The beige-orange coat covers most of their figure while the black-ish blue hood covers their face. They have on a pair of gloves, the same colour as their hood. Their pants are a simple pair of jeans while their shoes seem to be black combat boots. Seeing a figure in your home is terrifying, yes. It wouldn’t have been as scary if the figure didn’t have a mask on. The mask was an off-white-ish colour with black eyeholes, high black eyebrows, and a box shape for the mouth, somewhat resembling teeth.

You both stand there, no one moving. The buzzing is so loud now that you can barely hear your own heart and breathing. The static is so bad that you can barely see the figure clearly. “IT’s NiCe To FiNaLlY mEeT yOu, [Redacted],” They, or he, says. His voice sounded weird. It was like a mix of different pitches and he couldn’t decide which one was best and went with all of them. You didn’t think though, only acted. You quickly dropped the note and fled the living room. You could hear him following you as you ran for the back door. You slam into it, trying to unlock it. “YoU dOn’T wAnT tO gO oUtSiDe! It’S tOo CoLd FoR yOu. EsPeCiAlLy WiTh HoW yOu’Re DrEsSeD!” You don’t listen though, not even as he slowly approaches you. With a final turn of the knob, the door is flung open and you run out into the snow.

It’s cold and stings your feet. You run and run and run. You don’t once look back, too scared that he may be right there. You don’t hear him following you, but that’s due to the buzzing. It’s so loud now that it’s all you can hear. You’re basically running blind; the static is so thick that seeing your surroundings is almost impossible. You stumble around mostly, hands in front of you so you don’t run face-first into any trees.

You’re unsure of how long you have been running. All you know for sure is that you can’t see anything anymore, the buzzing is starting to give you a headache, you feel like you’re sweating buckets beside the fact that your legs, arms, fingers, and toes are going numb. It isn’t long before you collapse. You’re breathing heavily, panting in the snow. You can feel yourself shaking despite feeling so hot, so overheated. Your hair sticks to your forehead as you continue to sweat. You try to move, to drag yourself somewhere but your body refuses. You lay there, your eyes open despite them wanting to close. The static is still strong, just like the buzzing. They scream danger but your body refuses to listen.

As more time passes, you feel yourself slowly going numb, your eyes fluttering every now and then, trying to close. The static slowly starts to fade away until it’s back to the normal, barely there, state. The buzzing fades into a gentle hum, it barely being able to be heard. You can hear how heavy your breaths are and see the pure white of the snow. One of your hands is in front of you, pale and slowly turning blue. Frostbite will, or already has, set in. Were you going to die out here? Here, all alone. Nothing to your name. No one looking for you besides your parents. Who would find your body? Or would the masked man hide your body away, letting it decay somewhere?

You can hear the crunch of the snow and gentle humming coming your way. It seems the man has come for you. His pace is slow, not at all rushed. Soon enough, he walks into your field of vision. He crouches down, sitting on the balls of his feet. His gloved hand is brought up before it comes through your hair. “LoOk At YoU. A sHiVeRiNg, HaNdSoMe MeSs. As MuCh As I lIkE hOw YoU lOoK rIgHt NoW, bEiNg VuLnErAbLe AnD aLl, YoU’rE tUrNiNg BlUe,” As soon as those words leave his mouth, he scoops you up in his arms, holding you close to him tightly. “DoN’t WoRrY. I’lL tAkE gOoD cArE oF yOu. I lOvE yOu ToO mUcH nOt To. YoU’lL bE sAfElY tUcKeD aWaY iN tHaT hOuSe, WiTh Me By YoUr SiDe To KeEp YoU cOmPaNy. NoW dOeSn’T tHaT sOuNd NiCe?”

[wrestlingisfake]

G1 Climax night 1 preview

This is the opening night of New Japan's annual heavyweight singles tournament. This year's format involves twenty men, divided into two blocks of ten. Over the next month, each participant will have one match against each of the other nine men in his block. The goal is to have the best win-loss record among your block.

The top three in each block advance to a knockout stage on July 15 and 17. This is a pretty big change that I'm excited about, because it means more wrestlers will be mathematically alive much later in the block stage. Basically it'll be #2 vs. #3, for the right to face #1, to decide the block winner. Finally, on July 18, the winner of A Block meets the winner of B Block, with the winner earning a trophy, a flag, and the right to challenge the IWGP world champion on January 4, at Wrestle Kingdom in the Tokyo Dome.

A Block: Tetsuya Naito vs. Shingo Takagi - Naito regained the IWGP world title a couple of weeks ago in New York; the title is not at stake throughout the tournament. If Naito wins the G1, he'd earn the right to choose the challenger for Wrestle Kingdom, but I don't expect that to happen. On the other hand, if anyone beats Naito during the tournament, they'll likely get a title shot within the next couple of months, and I definitely see that happening.

Naito won the tournament in 2013, 2017, and 2023. Takagi's personal best is 7-2-1, which would probably be good enough to get out of the blocks this year. This is only the second time these two have met one-on-one; Naito won their last encounter.

Star power aside, the big draw here is that Naito and Shingo are members of the same faction, Los Ingobernables de Japon. I don't expect any dissension in the ranks, but they're also not going to go easy on each other. Takagi's whole style is to clobber the fuck out of dudes, which is a problem when Naito has been visibly banged up for years. The most exciting finish would be for Shingo to score a bit of an upset over his leader, the world champion. But I can't really see them running this match back in September, so I'm picking Naito to win.

B Block: Yota Tsuji vs. Konosuke Takeshita - This is Tsuji's second trip to the G1; last year he debuted with a 3-3-1 record that I found somewhat disappointing given all the hype around him. Takeshita is new to the tournament. He's been affiliated with DDT for years, and his big claim to fame is AEW, but if he's representing any group it's probably the Don Callis Family. Not counting crossover shows like Forbidden Door and All Together, I think this is his first time stepping onto New Japan's cerulean blue canvas.

I like that Tsuji is second from the top because he's one of the guys they need to elevate, and quickly. I don't know that I'd pick him to win the tournament, but I would definitely give him a a lot of key wins, and probably finish in the top three. But he's got a tough draw tonight, because this is a must-win situation for Takeshita.

I think Takeshita will probably end up in the middle of the pack, maybe finishing around 4-5. Newcomers and outsiders tend to only do so well in the G1, and he's both at once. But in light of that, New Japan knows he needs a strong start, and Tsuji is the kind of guy they can feed to someone who needs a strong start.

A Block: EVIL vs. Gabe Kidd - Evil reached the semifinals last year, mostly to tease what a debacle it would be if he won the whole thing, without actually doing it. I can't imagine they'll take it that far again this year. Kidd, the STRONG men's champion, debuted last year with a 2-4-1 record, because he's more concerned with hurting people and freaking out than figuring out how to win. That's a good character for him to play, but this tournament is about results, not tantrums, so he's probably not going to be competitive in the G1 for a couple more years.

Back in the day, whenever two Bullet Club guys faced off in a tournament, they'd do a comedy routine about how one of them is willing to lay down for the other, but then they'd have second thoughts and end up having an actual match. Nowadays, though, they don't even bother to act like collusion is possible--the War Dogs (such as Kidd) are too belligerent, and everybody in House of Torture (like Evil) is too devious. My guess is that Kidd will come out swinging, and Evil will hit a low blow (or get someone else to do it) to level the playing field. Evil should probably win here, although I don't expect him to be a major factor late in the tournament.

B Block: David Finlay vs. Yuya Uemura - Finlay is the IWGP global champion, and he was one of the quarterfinalists in last year's G1. Uemura returned from excursion last fall, so this is his first trip to the big dance. Typically when Young Lions graduate to full-time wrestlers and qualify for the G1, they do very poorly in the first year, so it'll be a moral victory for Yuya to secure even one win. But he's definitely not going to pick up that win here. I expect Finlay to start very strong and then stumble in the home stretch. This is going to be a mugging.

A Block: SANADA vs. Jake Lee - Sanada won the 2020 tournament; last year he went 7-0 in block matches, so you'd have to figure he's a heavy favorite. Lee, coming in from Pro Wrestling NOAH, is appearing in the tournament for the first time.

The big story is that, on July 13, Lee disbanded NOAH's Good Looking Guys stable, turned on his ex-partners, aligned with New Japan's War Dogs, and declared his exit from NOAH altogether. I'm not exactly sure what that means, but this will be our first glimpse of Lee and whatever repackaging he'll undergo for this new direction.

Sanada is an easy pick to win the G1, simply because he lost the world title at the last Wrestle Kingdom, and it'd be straightforward to tell a story about him getting it back one year later. But the easiest story to tell for Sanada in this tournament is if he stumbles early and has to climb out of a hole. So Lee is my pick to win here.

B Block: Jeff Cobb vs. Hirooki Goto - Cobb, the NJPW World television champion, went 8-1 in the 2021 tournament, so he's got what it takes. Goto has won the whole thing, but that was waaaay back in 2008; even his big second-place finish in 2016 feels like a lifetime ago. Much has been made of the way this year's tournament excluded aging mainstays like Hiroshi Tanahashi, Tomohiro Ishii, and KENTA; the fact Goto made the cut suggests they have a purpose for him here. But I suspect that purpose is to finish 2-7 so he can put over a bunch of guys like Cobb.

A Block: Zack Sabre Jr. vs. Great-O-Khan - Sabre was a quarterfinalist last year. Khan (the KOPW champion, for whatever that's worth) has never scored better than 4 wins and 5 losses. Throughout 2024, Sabre has been acting like he knows big things are awaiting him on the horizon, and he's repeatedly commented that he needs to win the G1 this year. He sounds like someone who's been told he's getting a big push. Now, I don't know why he would telegraph that to the audience in such a blatant fashion. So I could be totally off the mark, or he could be feeding us a red herring.

Regardless, I think Sabre will finish in the top 3 for the block. To create suspense about that, though, he should give up some wins against weaker opponents, and I think Khan fits the bill nicely.

B Block: HENARE vs. El Phantasmo - Henare only won one match in his first G1, and only two in his second, and that really pissed me off. I'm always pulling for this guy and being bitterly disappointed. Hopefully that's going to change after he recently won the NEVER championship in the biggest match of his career so far. Phantasmo's personal best isn't much better--three wins, three losses--but I'm not as worried about him finding ways to get ahead.

In 2023 Phantasmo was turfed out of Bullet Club, and he went into last year's G1 feeling incredibly isolated until the Guerillas of Destiny invited him into their stable. In 2024, all the Tongans in GOD have left to join the Bloodline in WWE, so Phantasmo is headed into this year's G1 feeling even more isolated. Will Jado still be by his side? Will he introduce a new look or something? Will he just be a sad sack devoid of motivation? This match will answer those questions. I just hope ELP protects his neck, or Henare will run him down like a truck.

A Block: Shota Umino vs. Callum Newman - You'd think Umino would be pushed as the future of the company, but his G1 debut last year with a 2-3-2 record suggests otherwise. He needs to post a higher score, and it'd be pretty hard not to. Newman is a newcomer, and I wouldn't have expected him to make the cut in 2024 except that he won a six-man tournament to qualify, scoring upset wins over the likes of Kenta and YOSHI-HASHI.

Umino ran into some trouble a month ago when he suffered hip and back injuries in a routine AEW match. I was real curious if he'd even make it to the G1, and he didn't confirm so until this past Monday. I doubt they would rebook the tournament to give him more losses on account of that. But if he's still hurting, this could be a particularly grueling tournament for him. I don't expect Shota to get out of the block, but he could surprise me. As for Newman, he's at the "just happy to be here" level where a 0-9 record is very possible; he's the heavy underdog in all of his matches, including this one.

B Block: Ren Narita vs. Oleg Boltin - Narita debuted in the G1 last year with an anemic 3-4 record. Boltin is entering for the first time, following a six-man qualifying tournament where he knocked Toru Yano, Hiroshi Tanahashi, and Taichi out of the field.

Boltin was a Young Lion when he, Tanahashi, and Toru Yano captured the NEVER trios title a few months ago. I expected that to effectively "graudate" him out of the Young Lions system, and he'd get to pick out custom gear and have his own entrance music. But so far, he's had none of that--even when he qualified for this spot, he was wearing the plain black trunks and they played the generic curtain jerker theme. So maybe this match will be his big coming out moment. Or maybe he just doesn't give a crap, I don't know.

If any other Young Lion made it into the G1 like this, I'd expect him to lose every match. But Oleg is 265 pounds of solid muscle, and they've given him Brock Lesnar's finisher. They have big plans for this guy. Big enough to get past the chicanery Ren Narita brings to the table? Well, we'll see. I think this one could go either way.

[nervousoctoberknits]

july wrap-up!

mini mock neck, book club cardigan

mini mock neck by jessie maed designs

yarn: explorer knits + fibers denali sock in granada (+ olive grove)

finished this little tank a couple weeks ago and ended up getting more length than expected out of the yarn i had. will probably end up making more of these at some point because it was quick and cute but i might size down next time for a bit more negative ease but i didn't check my gauge after blocking so that may have been off.

book club cardigan by sari nordlund

yarn: knit picks wool of the andes in shire heather

i think this is the oldest sweater quantity of yarn that's just been sitting in my stash and i've always known i wanted it to be a cabled cardigan but could never settle on a pattern. as soon as i saw this one, though, i was in love. i'm also enjoying the process of knitting this a lot more than i thought i would, it's enough to keep my brain engaged but intuitive enough that i'm not constantly having to refer to the chart. love this project!

i didn't touch my lily sheer top because it's been stupid hot and i just cannot be bothered to knit with mohair. also because the book club cardi has taken over.

[beepborpdoodledorp]

Another RE:Breach Update

Hey all, I'm back again with more info as to what the hell's been going on with RE:Breach lately. I'll try to keep it short but there is a lot to cover so bear with me.

So, I'll be honest, RE:Breach is not going how I planned. Not in terms of the story or anything, just the factors outside of it. I wanted to keep it a secret, but considering there's basically a 0% chance any of this will actually go the way I wanted it to I'll just reveal it now: the initial plan was to update the character renders, make chapter illustrations, and update the fic with the illustrations and fixed grammar/better sentence structure/etc. Then in November, for the fic's first anniversary, I would drop the official RE:Breach website that would compile the fics, the drawings, and some bonus stuff (wouldn't be removing the fics off AO3, just giving them another place to be read). Then I'd start dropping the sequel fics.

The new character renders are done; I started them in January, and didn't get them done until June. Then I started the chapter illustrations in July: out of the eighteen I had planned, I only got three done. Alongside that I wanted to get a head start with writing the sequel fics, so I started on the midquel, RE:Start, in about April or May or so (I think, I can't pinpoint exactly when I started writing). I literally just finished the third chapter yesterday after months of being stuck on it.

My work ethic is fucked, and it has been for a couple months now. I don't think it has to do with me still recovering from the writing marathon that was RE:Breach itself, I think I've just been hit with a depressive wave with how tired and demotivated I've been for the past few months. And everything that happened in my shitshow country in July didn't exactly help matters. And also my cat being sick and constantly needing to be shuffled to the vet the past week. That's fun.

I came into RE:Breach knowing that, with the sequels I had planned, this would be a multi-year-long endeavor. And I'm still planning on it - RE:Breach's sequels are still not canceled, I love the original game and the fic I've used to expand upon it too much to leave it behind, and the support for it has been so immense and amazing. But a part of me does regret jumping into it so suddenly, even if I did know what I was getting into: after Ruin released I just had a giant burst of creative energy I needed to get out, so I started writing RE:Breach with little planning and even less for the sequels. And, aside from basic outlines of what I want the sequels to be about and a few specific scenes, I still don't have much to go off of for them.

I know that all of these deadlines and the pressure that comes from them is really no one's fault but my own: no one's asking me to get the chapter illustrations and fic update out by a certain time, no one's asking me to get the website out by the anniversary, and no one's asking for the sequels to be out by a certain date. But considering it's now been six months since RE:Breach ended and I promised sequels, and I thought there would be sequels out by this point (the pride month prequel oneshot doesn't count I literally made that last minute because I had artist's block), I feel beyond icky that I'm still stuck polishing the first fic when I should've had it in the absolute best state it could be in when I first released it. 

TL;DR: RE:Breach is still alive, I am just going at the pace of a sloth that snorted molasses because depression is a little bitch and also all of the external factors in my life are going batshit too. I will complete everything I planned for RE:Breach even if it takes me a decade - which I really, really hope it won't.

[sunjaesol]

#23 gives off such strong juke wedding cake ceremony vibes i want to CRY

23. A kiss that tastes of the food/dessert they are eating

(brother's best friend au)

Julie's eyes scrolled over the peanut butter chocolate chip cookie recipe: all-purpose flour, baking soda, baking powder, sea salt, unsalted butter, peanut butter, sugar, eggs, vanilla, chocolate chips.

LF Performing Arts High School had a bake sale tomorrow, and Julie had uncharacteristically forgotten about it until Kayla sent her a reminder. She was just so busy with assignments and piano lessons, that cookies were the last thing on her mind.

Julie was stubborn, however, and refused to relent and buy a box of cookies from the grocery store. She was better than that. Dumping the dry ingredients into a large bowl, she started folding them together.

Upstairs, a bark of laughter erupted from Reggie's bedroom. As always, her brother had invited Luke over. He basically lived here at this point. Reggie became friends with Luke in their Freshman Year, when Julie was in Eighth Grade, and hadn't left each other's side since. They were seventeen now. Alex Mercer often joined them, but it was always Reggie and Luke.

Blocks of softened butter and eggs fell into the flowery mess. Grabbing the mixer, Julie blended it into a smooth dough, adding the rest of the ingredients in the end. Few curls had fallen out of her bun. Aggravated, her lips pressed together as she puffed and kept them away from the mixture.

By the time her fingers clung with cookie dough, molding it into discs, the boys ran downstairs.

"Julie," Reggie called, gliding into the kitchen, "Dad's asked me to pick up Carlos from baseball. Can you do it?"

Her brows raised and held up her hands. "What do you think?"

Her brother groaned. Behind him, Luke appeared and hoisted himself up on the free space of the kitchen island. He eyed the sheet of cookies curiously, though didn't say anything. Julie's gaze lingered on him for a prolonged beat before she forced herself to address Reggie.

"It's literally not that big of a deal," she argued. "You know I have the sale tomorrow. And I picked up Carlos last week."

"I have Luke over."

"Luke's always over."

"That's true." Luke chimed in, much to Reggie's dismay. The boy looked at his friend as though he'd committed treason. Julie hid her smile behind a loose curl, amused. "C'mon, man, I'll be okay here. I'll do homework, or something."

Reggie snorted. "Sure." It seemed resolved, though, and he grabbed the car keys from the counter. They jingled around his finger. "I'll be back in a snap!"

Luke and Julie waved goodbye at her brother. The moment the front door closed and silence encased the house, did her heart rate tick up. Peeking at Luke, she already found him staring at her.

The effect of having Luke over all the time, of having him be Reggie's closest friend, was that he also got to know Julie. Breakfasts, dinners, school hallways, car rides, trips to the movies, concerts. They became close as well. Only... Reggie didn't know that.

So close, in fact, that they kissed a couple months ago at a Carrie Wilson house party. In a dark hallway. For, like, thirty minutes straight. And then they continued doing that several times afterwards.

Julie knew it was typical of her: of course she had a thing for her brother's best friend.

(How could she not? He had dreamy green eyes and fluffy brown hair and a perfect smile and he wore sleeveless shirts and played the guitar the same way he spoke to her: impassioned and electric.)

Luke hopped off the island and slid beside her, tucking a curl behind her ear. "It smells good."

"Thanks," she smiled.

"Have you tasted it yet?"

She shot him a strange look. "Of course you're the type of person to eat raw dough."

"C'mon," he drawled, looming over her with an infuriating grin. Anticipation swarmed in her stomach, her hands at her sides to refrain from touching him. "You're not even curious?"

"I know it's good. I've made the recipe before."

Sticking out his index finger, he went for the bowl. She slapped it away.

"Jules!" he exclaimed, scandalised.

"This is for the bake sale!" she chastised, but her voice was light and teasing. Jules, she loved that nickname. "If you want to taste, use a spoon."

With a roll of the eye, he moved around her and opened the cutlery drawer, grabbing a spoon and finally dipping it into the dough. Julie continued pressing the remainders into the baking sheet, perfect circles lining each other like soldiers. From the corner of her eye, she watched Luke taste it.

He hummed, pleased, and directed the spoon to her. It still had a dollop of dough on it. "You try."

It honestly sucked keeping their attraction a secret. They weren't in a relationship, but acted like a real couple when they were alone. They texted until she fell asleep, he snuck excerpts of unfinished songs in her locker to know out what she thought of it, she conveniently did her homework at the diner he worked at. It was almost perfect it hurt. Julie didn't want to upset Reggie and Luke didn't want to lose his best friend.

So, she took the chances as they popped up. Like now.

Pushing his hand aside, she stretched on her tiptoes and kissed him. The spoon clattered on the island, his arms instantly curling around her to keep her pressed against him. Her mouth puckered into a smile at the taste of cookie dough on his tongue. Giggling, she tilted her head back and felt him chase her, nose bumping against her chin.

"You taste like peanut butter," she laughed.

Luke smiled, "You always eat PB&J sandwiches, so that's a win to me."

There was something tender in his gaze as he said it. The words were casual, but his intent gaze and soft tone made her feel weak in the knees. God, she liked him. She really really liked him and his stupid comments.

He kissed her again and again, until she reminded him in a haze that she had to finish her cookies. Luke didn't take that as a hint to give her space. Instead, he hugged her from behind and watched from over her shoulder as she prepared the last of the dough into discs. It felt like a move plucked straight from the 90s rom-coms she and Flynn liked to watch.

Finally, Julie placed the tray into the oven. Had they been aware of the time, they would know that out of rush hour, it wouldn't take Reggie that long to pick up Carlos from practice. But kissing Luke — being with Luke — made her mind deliciously empty.

The front door swung open.

"Whoa."

The couple jumped apart in fright and whipped their heads to the sound. It was Carlos. The boy stared at them with his eyes wide like saucers, equal amounts aghast and disgusted. "What the heck."

Julie shot towards him with her hands clasped together. "Carlos, I'm begging you, do not tell Reggie. You didn't see anything."

Her tween brother was a menace, though, and raised a cocky brow. "Lemme think... no."

Julie groaned, considered the idea of murdering her little brother, and almost acted on it, when Luke jumped in to help. With a dazzling smile, he said: "Carlos, I'll play League Of Legends with you if you don't say something."

"Say what?" Reggie walked through the door, oblivious to what had just transpired.

Carlos' mischievous expression turned innocent and toothy. "Luke's gonna play League Of Legends with me!"

Julie's eyes closed in relief. Thank God her brother couldn't resist bargaining. Luke's hand, that had found its way on the small of Julie's back, fell to his side. She already missed it.

"Oh!" Reggie appeared surprised. "That's cool of you, buddy."

Luke shrugged. His cheeks were red. "No big deal."

"I'm, um." Her voice sounded strained, not her own, rather one of a girl that has lied to her brother for months about the boy she was kissing just moments ago. "I'm gonna— go. To the studio."

Reg eyed her strangely. "You okay?"

"Yep." Julie put her thumbs up. "I ate some of the batter and I'm feeling a little woozy, so, um—" Gaze flitting from a guilty Luke to a confused Reggie and smug Carlos, she left her sentence open-ended and beelined to the studio.

God, liking her brother's best friend might be the best and worst decision of her life.

///

send me kiss prompts for juke!

[itsbenedict]

WK reviews +10 lessons (i know i posted about being done, but they just added ten more- they’re doing this new kana vocabulary thing which is a nice learning tool but kind of diluting the purpose of the product)

at work: actually do the logging this time

cal introduction up through puzzle segment

calculate hits and misses

the thing i'm discovering about delivering a story- even a deliberately rough prototype version of a story- via a locked Discord channel, is... editing is tricky. you can't put in "[placeholder for image]" and then put the image in later- or, actually i think in that specific case you can, by relying on the auto-embed of cdn.discordapp links, and like... uploading the content in another secret channel- but i'm not sure that's gonna fly for audio content or file uploads. and if you want to move things around or insert large blocks of extra content, it's going to be a pain in the ass.

i think... i'm going to need to do a couple things to make this work. i'm going to need, like... a draft channel and a real channel, and post the updates to the real channel only once i've worked out the formatting in the draft channel? it's not easy to just cut and paste whole blocks of content without messing with the newline formatting a bit, but it should work...

the other thing is- i think at the pace i'm going, i'm on track to technically have all the content ready to launch by the end of the week, but... from Saturday through Wednesday is going to be a pretty significant whirlwind of life stuff, visiting family for the 4th of July and having to host people. it's probably not the best move to launch at a time when i won't have time to manage those crucial first impressions, just to meet a self-imposed deadline. i'm going to try and have it all ready to go by Friday night, but then hold off on promoting and launching it until the week after.

[tera-91]

Mid-June Rant

Im not sure when Ill post this.

July 2nd is when 2024 will be half way over. Even though as I start to write this post it is only June 1st. It feels like Ive spent half of the year already. Like Ive wasted half of the year.

Or rather I cant shake off the last half. When 2024 began I felt like it was Spring oddly enough. Like a new beginning. The first quarter went by and I kept doing the same thing over and over again. Then April hit and I decided to turn my world as I knew it upside down.

Wow that sounds dramatic.

Not really.

Just that I needed to make a change.

My first thought was to go back to school. To do something that I could make what I was in a week in a day. In reality it would probably take me a couple of days. Which wouldn’t be bad. I would more than double my income. The only problem would be that it will take me about 3 and a half years to get there.

That is quite a while to stay at a job that, deep down, I wasn’t happy. I get that it cant be great all the time. But everyday. I would go into work, either pissed off that I was there. That I felt like I was wasting my time. And if I wasn’t mad, or frustrated. I certainly was watching the clock and ready to walk out of the door.

The manager that was directly my boss I guess, was a inconsiderate jackass. But the other one I feel so much respect for. This manager wants to see if things can be talked out with the other manager. But even if that’s the case I feel like that one is such a vindictive tyrant. I don’t want to work for them. I just don’t know how to tell the other manager. Theres nothing else I can do. Nothing else I want to do.

I feel like I need to make a change.

But I have no one to talk it out with.

My friends say that I should take a break. My family is just wishy washy. I should do what I want. I wish I could talk to my dad. I feel like he could understand my brain better. The only other person that gets it is my sibling. Although we got different versions of neuro-spiciness. My sibling has quite a different choice of words for that manager though… I would rather not repeat.

Im not sure how many times Ill tell myself that I need to take a break. To make a change before I actually believe it. Or rather before I actually do something about it.

_____

Im not sure how many days its been since I wrote any of the previous stuff. Ive been doing a bunch of little things.

I feel like Im less stressed, I looked in the mirror the other day and realized, my shoulders were more relaxed.

Ive gotten a few things done. I got at least 3 videos made. I edited audio on another to come out hopefully soon. Ive written a little more.

Im exploring more.

Once I finish writing this Im going to tackle some things again. Try to get more done in my Roman story series. I hadn’t planned on making it a series but I ended up starting 4 stories with Roman for some reason, I don’t feel like I connect a whole lot with his character in comparison to Virgil. Then one day I was out with my pups and a thread appeared in my head. Connecting these 4 stories but I will have to make an additional one to make a 5 story series.

If youre interested in that, hopefully I wont make you wait too long for it. Im just struggling slightly as when I started the first one it was going to end differently so Ive been trying to add and shift things as I go.

I think I have a little bit of a block going, not necessarily in coming up with the story but to actually sit and write it. My brain is struggling to figure out which to tackle first.

Do I write? I have a bunch of different things that I need to write.

Do I record? I’m having a bit of an issue with my voice at the moment but I can at least prepare things to record.

Then there is the issue of income. I know logically at the moment I am lucky enough to have the option to step away from my source of income due to issues. But it is going to be a problem, I just don’t know how soon now. I have a medical thing going on that I will need to spend a not so small amount of money on which was not an issue prior to when I decided to take this path.

So I do think of that. Once that is hopefully taken care of in the real short future I will be able to tackle two things that I have a potential to get income in. Do I set up a patreon? It would be something to potentially help right now. I have applied for several jobs and have had at least 1 interview so far.

Part of me feels silly for thinking this. I mean I did decide to do a thing and this is the consequence of taking that action. But at the same time, I don’t regret making that decision.

Ill try to write the Roman stories but if that doesn’t seem to work I think I will try to get a little editing done.

_____

Right so a few days later and I’m still in job limbo apparently. Certain things happened in recent days. Didn’t get any of the Roman stories done yet.

Going to work on that and everything else that I need to work on.

I just need to do stuff as I have time. It doesn’t matter if I know I only have 5 minutes or if I jump on it and only get to spend that amount of time on it.

Off to make a list of things that I need to get done. Maybe if I have a visual representation of what is on my mind it will help.

[nathank77]

5/14/24

7:18 p.m Added to/Edited

I fell asleep by 6 a.m. The combo of the 3 knocked me the fuck out. I woke up at 12 and I really needed to pee but I didn't let myself bc I wanted one more hour. So I fell back to sleep after hearing a sorta scream from my auditory hallucination cause yea that's how I know I'm falling back to sleep....

Then I woke up at 1 p.m, I used the bathroom and decided to get my bloodwork done for my thyroid bc I had to do it sometime this week or next. Last month I did it on the 16th of April. So the 14th isn't too bad. I had extra time and made the appt at 2 p.m and then made it to my doctor's at 3:15 p.m.

I didn't have much to talk to her about. I mentioned very briefly that I didn't sleep well for a couple weeks of April. I was very brief. I told her the Hydroxyzine with the Xanax helps me stay asleep longer. I brought up the ER visit and my cardiologist appts. I asked her about the right branch block and it could be bc of the wire placement. So that's hopeful. I also showed her my tongue again. And I asked to get my testosterone levels pulled before my next shot. So that's scheduled for next week right before my testosterone shot. I got to be there at 3:30 p.m now cause I haven't had my levels done in a very long time. Granted I've been on the same dose 99% of my whole journey on testosterone. For a few months I was on 1.1 instead of 1 ML but other than that it's been consistent.

She was okay with seeing me in August for my physical but I was like well I always have problems so she had me schedule something for July to see me after my cardiologist appt. She also gave me 25mg of metopolol. Incase. My heart rate was 103 there which is high.

I was in another room so idk if its accurate but appearantly I'm 179 pounds now. Which means I lost another 2 pounds since last week... was it bc the scale is slightly off? Or is my dieting continuing to cause healthy weight loss? With the combination of white mulberries? Or am I hyper? I'll at least find out if I'm hyper, Hypo or normal soon from the Bloodwork..

I'm worried that she's loosen the leash and not going to give me Xanax anymore... she didn't say that but she was keeping a tight leash on me wanting to see me every month or month and a half and then she was okay with seeing me in August at the end of August... that's why I was like umm I'd like to see you sooner... idk. She was just happy I'm sleeping and getting better quality sleep. I don't really think she's taking it away or going to perscribe a placebo if she ever did cause- I had heart palpitations which are withdrawal effects and my brief mention of not sleeping well for a couple weeks of April will tell her if I ever was prescribed a placebo it did not work as well as the actual medication...

But who knows if it was a placebo or not. And I know I'm just worried cause like I know Xanax is the only reason I fall asleep. She's prob just loosen the leash cause I'm not asking for more and I'm on top of my health. If I didn't have the physical I'm sure she would have wanted to see me in a couple months.

Yet I worry. But we will see. I don't think she's going to take it away/ give me a placebo but I can't help but worry.

Also i gave her my paperwork for the MRI and I should be able to schedule that tomorrow hopefully before the 28th bc if I don't get it done by then I can't get it done.

I went out for waters cause I didn't plan to today but I realized I needed them... and I didn't want it on my list of things to do tomorrow cause I was supposed to go grocery shopping tomorrow and knowing I needed waters would have gave me extreme anxiety and panic.... potentially panic attacks.. it might have effected my ability to sleep.

I grabbed some food and other stuff. I got to go back to the grocery store Friday for other stuff.. the waters was the hardest part bc of the panic but i haven't seen the gross POS for a few weeks.. I hope they fired him but that's happened before I just didn't see him for a couple weeks and then all of a sudden he was there again.

I'm going to new Hampshire prob Saturday. I got to schedule my oil change at Firestone for prob may 28th. My Dr's appts are finally slowing down. I'll prob go to Southington at 5 pm.

Next month i have like the cardiologist on the 26th and just my biweekly Testosterone shot. July I have my insomnia appt and my biweekly Testosterone appts as well as my ENT visit which I think my hearing is getting worse... but whatever I just won't wear my hearing aids so I can find a girl friend...

This month I still got my disability appt at 1:30 Friday...... and I have the dentist next Tuesday at 4:30 as well as my testosterone bloodwork and shot on Wednesday at 3:30... but after next week things will start to slow down. Just got to get disability out of the way, new Hampshire, my testosterone shot and the dentist.... and ideally my oil change which I can charge to my credit card and keep my Firestone card active...

Anyways as of last night I started taking 2000mg of White mulberries... I feel like I noticed almost immediate progress. I'm going to do 2000mg a day unless I get undesired side effects. I had some silence while I wrote my poetry... some. Still not allowed to think about my hallucination without hallucinating but either way I think the combo of 100mg of cbd and 2000mg of white mulberries could help facilitate the pathway and build healthy connections. I just got to work through the narrative the hallucination created.

It says, "the bussy cunt" and it may not be able to finish the sentence sometimes but I have been, "filling in the blank." Bc I heard the phrases so clearly and learned them and it broke my brain in so many more ways than just this constant hallucination... it says, "the bussy cunt" and even if i think a dominant thought like I need to make a sandwich... my back thought is, "feels bad for deadname last name.".. so I'm trying to change the narrative at least saying, feels bad for Nathan last name... but it's hard.

That's the issue it FUCKS UP YOUR WHOLE BRAIN..

Hopefully this combination of supplements make a difference. Idk.

And I hope that I'm really 179 and I'm normal levels... I also hope that my heart rate was only that high bc I was at the doctors White coat syndrome or whatever but who knows. Maybe I'll make it to 170 idk that's hopeful. I'd love to make it to 165. I'd fucking hit the fuck out of that gym.

[velvetvexations]

I was really, really upset by these two in multiple ways but chose to not discuss it. Since they're doing this, however, I'm putting the DM exchanges I had with the asker under the cut. CW for discussion of rape and unethical sexual practices.

Awhile ago I saw discussion about an AITA post on Tumblr from a non-passing trans man that had a "dykebreaking" kink who enjoyed sleeping with lesbians to whom he lied about being cis to get a rush from the idea they were secretly having sex with a man.

princessfemalelesbian (PFL) made this post in response to it on July 1st:

I sent them this ask about it the same day, which was unanswered but preserved and sent to me during the later conversation:

I obliquely referred to this when around that time I mentioned, in a response to an anon, I believe, that I try to be nice even about posts I would otherwise deem extremely hateful when the inciting incident (the AITA) is pretty bad and worthy of getting mad even if the anger is misdirected.

I also want to note ahead of time, because it's a point that bothers me a lot, that it'll later be pointed out to me PFL is 18, which I did not see and "is allowed to not like kink". If I saw she was eighteen I may not have sent an ask at all or at the very least would have spoken more vaguely about kinks, but as should be obvious the point was not really "kinks good" regardless, it was "there's no need to demonize trans men".

I've talked about my extreme paranoia around pedojacketing so it just bothers me a lot that I saw someone posting about how a demographic is evil via projecting rape kinks onto all of them, sent them a message politely trying to convince them otherwise, and then have that person only being eighteen used against me. I literally just had a discussion with an eighteen year old I've been chatting with about how I still wasn't comfortable doing any Friendship Activities beyond Tumblr until they were a bit older. These two did not intentionally trigger my paranoia, but the result is nonetheless stepping on my trigger with spiked cleats.

I previously described the timeline to a friend I was talking to about this this morning as "a couple months" between me sending that ask and punkeropercyjackson (PEPJ) contacting because I have a disordered memory and am bad with time, but I do not believe over a week is any less egregious to have received this out of nowhere:

This was immediately fucking stupid and set me off since I'd gone out of my way to be as polite as I possibly could recognizing that PFL's post was coming from being mad at something that' was legitimately gross, but whatever.

This triggered me hard, even without specific intent, because being framed as harassing people for attempting to engage with them exactly one time is something I've had past experience with including just a little while ago when I reblogged someone's post with my own commentary exactly ONCE and then later that day when they got a bunch of anons mad at them for siding with a convicted rapist I was blamed for it.

Continuing that conversation with PEPJ, with the note that, again, I sent ONE ASK over a week prior:

PEPJ then sent me the screenshots of the ask I posted above. Continued:

So that seemed to go well.

Until this morning when I saw a post PEPJ had made about femboy being a slur for trans women, and that apparently trans men "melt down" when trans fems use it. Both of these facts are objectively wrong. However, as I repeat throughout the following exchange, I would not have reblogged it had I recognized their URL, because again, I have a disordered memory and I stopped thinking about these people the second I wasn't looking at them.

Thus was the end of it. Addressing the ask and reply:

I can't screenshot because we blocked eachother but velvetvexations commented on my post

You can't screenshot it because I told you I deleted it even before you said you wanted me to. Like, my message that I had deleted it went through before your request. You saw that.

told her to buzz off black people and she said i was 'gaslighting' her because i said she came after you💀The defensiveness white people have against normalized toxicity and refusal to see through black lens for allyship is crazy

I genuinely do not fucking understand where race enters into literally any of this at all.

Honestly I feel so bad for her.

No, you don't.

Even though that post was literally speaking against transmisogyny

If I made a post saying the best way to combat transmisogyny was pumping CO2 into the atmosphere, it being "against transmisogyny" does not give it inherent worth.

it’s like she thinks that trans men are innocent widdle babies with no male privilege to speak of who are always victims and who can never do anything harmful to a trans woman ever

I acknowledged the AITA was bad but most of the shit transmascs are accused of is the most petty and completely made-up issues I've ever seen in my life. Trans men can be harmful to trans women but people rarely talk about genuine cases of that actually happening.

She is literally the transfem equivalent of a pick-me

It's literally just being an ally to people who are victimized and then have their victimization erased by assholes who ascribe to them oppressive power they do not possess.

constantly apologizing for and defending trans men even when they are in the wrong and are being wildly transmisogynistic

I've not apologized for anyone, ever. The people I side with in cases like this (meaning not the AITA, because I was explicitly not siding with him) have done literally nothing at all. Occasionally the transmasc people I've come to be in community with will actually disagree to some extent, like believing the How to Pick Up Trans Women article was at least somewhat transmisogynyistic when I think it was completely and totally harmless, but this never wins them points and they continue to get painted as TMRAs who hate trans women.

It’s honestly so sad to witness, and I do very much hope that she develops some self-worth and self-respect soon, and learns to stop constantly deferring to trans men and acting like they can never be called out for anything, are never in the wrong, and always need to be defended against any accusation, even when they hurt and oppress the trans women in their own communities. It's such a shame

Yeah, I feel the same way about the transmascs in your life.

I can't screenshot because we blocked eachother but velvetvexations commented on my post i sent you(the fb slur one)so i had enough and told her to buzz off black people and she said i was 'gaslighting' her because i said she came after you💀The defensiveness white people have against normalized toxicity and refusal to see through black lens for allyship is crazy

Honestly I feel so bad for her. Even though that post was literally speaking against transmisogyny she still insists on caping for trans men and absolving them of any part that they might play in enabling transmisogyny, it’s like she thinks that trans men are innocent widdle babies with no male privilege to speak of who are always victims and who can never do anything harmful to a trans woman ever, and yet transfems can be “transandrophobic” lol cuz that’s a real thing. Sure. 🙄

She is literally the transfem equivalent of a pick-me, constantly apologizing for and defending trans men even when they are in the wrong and are being wildly transmisogynistic. It’s honestly so sad to witness, and I do very much hope that she develops some self-worth and self-respect soon, and learns to stop constantly deferring to trans men and acting like they can never be called out for anything, are never in the wrong, and always need to be defended against any accusation, even when they hurt and oppress the trans women in their own communities. It’s such a shame.

[ramp-it-up]

It Takes Two

Pairing: Soft Dark!Chris Evans x Reader

Warnings:  18+, Minors DNI. Curate your own experience. Cursing, drinking, cheating, breakups, rehab, recovery, deception, lies, celibacy, manipulation, wedding planning, semi-public explicit, rough, sex, oral sex (m receiving), degradation kink, breeding kink, choking, dubiuous con (b/c of deception). Darkish! Scott Evans. This is not proofread!

A/N: @lovebittenbyevans gave me a great idea about still dealing with Chris when commenting on The One.  I thought that the Chris in that fic could really go left and get pretty Dark and dirty. And then.... 

Anonymous asked:

Imagine Chris cheating on Y/N …

That made me think up this fic. It is a sequel to The One. I hope you like it!

-----

You left him.

You flew to Montreal to surprise him on set, trench coat and lingerie and everything, and when you opened the door to his trailer, you saw Heidi on her knees giving Chris a blowjob.

You cussed him out, threw the ring back in his face and turned around and left. 

You blocked his number, moved out of his house and cut off all contact.  You were done.

The audacity of Chris being indignant about your warnings about Heidi when he was boning her all along.

You loved Scott, but you had to cut him off too after he tried to explain that Chris was drunk when you found him, and was going to rehab to deal with his issues. 

 It was classic celebrity bullshit and you didn’t have time for it.

You decided to center yourself, and swear off all relationships and sex. You wanted to purge your mind of all that weighed you down. 

You concluded that love, sex, and Chris Evans made you feel heavy as fuck. 

You moved to New York City. It was far enough away from Chris and your folks in Houston to give you some peace. 

You could still run your business and even think about a storefront.  It was the perfect location to live your best life, eat healthy, exercise, socialize and network. 

You fell in love with yourself, and you didn’t think much about Christopher Robert Evans at all.

Only every time you went on IG or Twitter, even though you blocked him and his hashtags.  And every time you went to Target, because his fucking movies and merchandise were everywhere. 

But you were cool, because you were doing you. You weren’t looking for love.

Of course, that’s when it found you.

Six months after you left Boston, you were at a natural beauty products expo in Brooklyn hawking your wares.  

Your business had taken off, with almost a half million dollars in sales, and you were being interviewed by a major news outlet of color when one of the correspondents caught your eye. 

You flirted, exchanged numbers and ended up going on a date. In another three months you were engaged to him.  

Kevin Watts made you feel safe, protected and loved. And he wasn’t just after sex. He was well off, and secure in himself and you.  It just felt right. 

When Kevin proposed, it was just you and him at your favorite restaurant. So romantic. 

Not like the rowdy family 4th of July party at which Chris asked you to marry him last year, in front of both your parents.

The laughter and the joy was just a little much. 

This was perfect. You didn’t miss Chris at all. You set about planning your wedding with a profound sense of peace and safety.  

You and Kevin were meant to be.

----

Chris was nothing without you.

Nothing but an award winning actor and producer, a multi-millionaire and founder of a major organization dedicated to bringing opposing political viewpoints together. 

All of that was cool, and it kept him going, but when he lost you, he lost his motivation.

Chris didn’t take any more roles after the sequel with Heidi, and he dumped her post haste. He did enter rehab and realized that he depended way too much on alcohol to dull his emotions. 

He got drunk off his ass when he was away from you because he missed you so much, and that led to him letting Heidi think that she could have him.

She’d had him physically, but never his heart. Or his mind. You owned those.

Chris followed your business closely, and was proud of your success. 

Of course he followed your social media on burner accounts and saw that you were doing well. 

You looked like you enjoyed being single and seemed healthy and happy.

He couldn’t ask for anything more for you.

Except to be his again. 

Chris was just biding his time for your reunion, deciding to give you a year before he made his move. 

Now he felt every emotion, and he knew that you must still love him too.

You just needed to realize that your life would be even better with him back in it.

The year apart would be just punishment for what he’d done to you, and when you came back together, it would be better than before.

Everyone speculated on his bachelorhood, wondering if he would settle down, speculating and gossiping about who he was with, but he just played coy and kept quiet.

No one would know that he was yours and yours alone, and that you were still his.  

You just didn’t know it.

But you weren’t going along with the plan that you didn’t know about. 

About seven months into his self-imposed purgatory, a complication started popping up on Chris’s feed. 

Kevin. 

And a couple of months after that, a post of a proposal, in a restaurant.

The asshole probably didn’t even ask or involve your folks.  Chris was in a rage for a week. 

He almost started drinking again, but as he got ready to drive to the liquor store, Kevin’s face flashed on his screen doing a report on the election.

Instead of making him even more angry, he smiled, elated at the thought that came to him.

Chris had a new plan, and it was going to be even better than before.

-----

The last three months had been a whirlwind, and you never thought it would turn out this way.  

You were planning your wedding with your mother, discussing the seating at the reception, and you deciding where Chris Evans and his date would sit.

What a time to be alive.

Your mother only let it slip a couple of times that you should be marrying Chris, but for the most part, she kept it cute.

You explained to her that everything was squashed between you and Chris, and that he and Kevin had a great relationship, were friends, even.  

They’d bonded over politics when Kevin interviewed him, and became buds before Chris even realized that you and he were together.

Kevin knew, but he wasn’t the jealous type, and he didn’t want to make things awkward. Surprisingly, Kevin insisted that he be at the wedding. 

You thought about it and decided it would be the ultimate closure for Chris to watch you marry someone else. 

You were pleasantly surprised at Chris. He was handling this very well. He never tried to contact you, and according to Kevin, never even mentioned you. That was growth. 

Maybe you too could be friends. 

You felt good about it. So much so that you unblocked him and started a dialogue.

-----

Hi.

Chris saw your number come across his apple watch and he practically did a dance. It was 9:24 pm.  He picked up his phone and stared at the word, forcing himself to wait and not respond.  He went to work out.

47 minutes later, he responded.

Hello?

This time, he sat and waited for your response, which came 7 minutes later. 

I just wanted to say, I appreciate the way you're handling this.

Chris bit his lip, imagining you sitting there, thinking of what to say and staring down at your phone.

I’m sorry, I don't know who this is. You may have reached a wrong number?

He grinned at the play. 

----- 

Your heart dropped. Did he no longer have your contact?  

Why would he do that?

You don’t know why you felt some kinda way; you’d blocked him. 

Maybe he had changed his number and this was no longer his. Your heart was beating fast when you texted back.

Is this Chris?  This is Y/N.  I was just texting about Kevin Watts.

You anxiously watched the thought bubbles on imessage.

----

Even though you’d texted back almost immediately, Chris kept you hanging for just a couple of minutes. His dick was hard at the thought of communicating with you. 

Fuck, you were such an aphrodesiac.

Oh shit! Y/N I’m sorry.  I got a new phone.. You know how it is…

He knew you wouldn’t believe that. That’s why he said it.

You just stared at the phone. That was bullshit. You can easily port your contacts into a new phone.  You just never believed that Chris would really move on.  And you didn’t know why. 

You had.

You took a deep breath and continued.

Lol, No worries!  Just wanna say thank you for being cool with my Boo. I’m gonna turn in now. Check you later.

You tried to keep it light.

Chris ignored the ‘my Boo’ comment and focused on the thought of you in bed. 

You usually slept in a tank top or t-shirt and panties, and the top would invariably come off because you got hot. 

And then things would invariably get hotter if he was in bed with you….

Cool! Sweet dreams. Check you later. 😉

Chris made sure to exit your message thread and come back so that you wouldn’t see the thought bubbles that he saw when you kept staring at the text.

You  were lost in the times that Chris always used to say that to you, and when he whispered “Sweet Dreams” in your ear when he was far away, you always had wet dreams about him. 

And that wink. 

How could a fucking yellow emoji turn you the fuck on?

You reached for your bullet vibrator as you continued to stare at the interaction.

Chis had already started stroking himself when you told him you were going to bed. 

Knowing that you were thinking exactly what he wanted you to got him close, and he didn’t even have to pull up your old videos to get off. 

Not tonight.

-----

Over the next few weeks. you’d texted a few times, Chris ‘made amends’ and you accepted his apology. 

Then, you started texting more regularly, mainly joking around about sports, your Celtics/Rockets rivalry ever raging. 

From your perspective, Chris was always appropriate and respected your relationship with Kevin.  You were glad because you’d missed your friendship with him.

You felt giddy that your life was working out so well, and you traveled to your weekend getaway in the mountains for your bridal shower with a light heart.

Chris attended Kevin’s bachelor festivities with only a week to go until the wedding.

——

From Chris’s perspective, things were working out better than he’d hoped. 

Scoring an invite to the wedding was more than he’d imagined, and Kevin inviting him out to his Bachelor party was just icing on the cake.  

Maybe he could make Kevin slip up enough so that you would dump him before the wedding. Chris was hopeful.

If not, Plan B was the nuclear option. 

-------

Kevin was following the stripper’s ass like a puppy. He was lit on booze and pills (that Chris provided) and his guard was down.

Kevin considered Chris a friend. 

Chris just wanted to keep Kevin close because he was the enemy.

They were talking about you.

“She’s so fucking innocent. A sweeter angel there never was. I’ll have to teach her how to fuck.”

Chris almost choked on his water.

“I'm sorry. What now?”

Kevin just barreled on, ignoring the question.

“That's how I know I need to wife her.” He was talking to Chris, but still staring at the stripper.

“She would never chase the D. Hell, she won’t even touch mine. You know, her being celibate and all.”

Chris raised his eyebrow and smiled, which Kevin never noticed. Chris shook his head at your antics.  His little beautiful love.

“That’s why I was never pressed that you are her ex. I mean, I’m impressed you were with her as long as you were.”  

Chris just smiled and nodded, curious as to where this was leading.

“A man like you don’t have to put up with that. You must have punani lined up for days, bro.”

Chris’s heart lept. This dullard did not have access to your pussy. HIS pussy.  Never has.

Chris could fuck a lot of people a million ways from Sunday with one text. Except for you. And you were all that mattered. 

“I don’t know about all that.” Chris put on his best, ‘aw shucks’ act.

Chris was over the moon. You were still his. In every way.

Kevin kept tipping the stripper and was trying to call her over. He asked her about a private lap dance.  Chris’s eyes lit up. This asshole was making it too easy.

The stripper nodded and went back to finish up her set.  Chris walked over to the bar.

“Aye!” Chris summoned tha bartender over. 

“What can I get you, Sir.” 

“I don’t need a drink.  I wanna take care of my friend over there. He’s gonna have a lap dance with Star. It’s his bachelor party.  I need it to be extra special.”  

Chris started peeling off hundreds so the barkeep could see. 

“And I need him to have some keepsakes, so he’ll remember it always.” 

More hundreds came off. The bartender’s eyes got bigger and bigger. “That’s no problem.”

Chris flashed his famous smile.  

“Great, let me tell you where to send them. Wanna make them a wedding present.” He wrote down an address on a napkin. 

He was now on Plan C. And it was perfect.

------

A week later and the rehearsal at the church was more fun than you thought it would be.  You weren’t allowed to participate, just watch, as the result of an old wives tale.

The church secretary found you in the pews. She handed you a manila envelope.

“This was mailed here yesterday, probably an invoice of something for the wedding, I put it aside for you, sweetie.”

You smiled back at her and tucked it into your purse, not wanting to distract yourself with more wedding bills. 

Later, when you and Kevin were in the back of the car to the restaurant for the Rehearsal Dinner, you pulled it out and opened it. You couldn’t believe your eyes.

“What the ENTIRE FUCK KEVIN!”  

You threw the pictures of him fucking a stripper in his face, startling him out of staring at his phone.

He picked one up, his mouth dropped open and started talking. 

“Look, Baby, Baby! I can explain!...”

“DO NOT FUCKING LIE TO ME KEVIN!  WE HAVE OVER 300 PEOPLE HERE FOR OUR WEDDING TOMORROW MORNING.” 

Kevin was on his knees in the back of the suburban. 

“Listen to me.. Listen.  I’m a man. I have needs…”

“Kevin, I swear to god….”

“Okay, okay… I admit it…”

You listened to him and your heart went silent.  You couldn’t even absorb what he said.

When you pulled up to the restaurant, you straightened your dress and looked at him coolly.

“I am NOT going to deal with this tonight. Tonight was supposed to be a fun celebration of our wedding. I will decide later if it's still going to happen.”

Kevin was terrified.

“Right now, you and I will go into this place, greet our friends arm in arm and pretend that you are not a fucking narcissitic asshole who just ripped my heart to shreds. Got it?”

“Yes, but I-”

“Do NOT speak to me unless I speak to you first. Or it's automatically off.”

Kevin just nodded and cleared his throat.

You raised your chin and said, “Let’s go.”

-----

Two hours later, dinner was over, and you were lit on your way to TURNT.

Chris observed you, from the moment you entered holding hands with Kevin to the second you dropped his hand in disgust, to the way you held yourself away from him at dinner, but then put on a sweet face when everyone spoke, to Kevin, who was an absolute mess.

He figured you got the pictures. He suppressed the glee that was coursing through him.

But he couldn’t figure out why you were still going on with the charade.

Chris didn’t make a beeline for you like he wanted to, he just let the natural flow of the party lead you to him.  He was talking to your cousin when he felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned around.

“Hey you.”  

You cocked your head at him in that way and looked up at him, your smile brightening your face.  Damn, he had to plant his feet. You smiling at him like that made him feel faint.

You both heard your cousin say something, but you didn’t pay attention, caught up in your own orbit.

“Hey.”  

Chris crossed his arms, and you swore that he was recalling the time when you told him your forearms made you horny. Fuck. Chris made you wet and you were fresh out of fucks tonight.

“So, I can’t have a hug?”  

Chris shook his head at your line and opened his arms to embrace you, keeping a respectable pressure and distance until you hugged him tight and pressed close.  

He couldn’t help but pick you up, but he put you down immediately, cleared his throat and backed up, looking uncomfortable.

That wouldn’t do. You wanted more of his scent, his warmth, his HIM. You pouted unconsciously in your buzzed state.

Chris’s cock stirred.  That fucking mouth had haunted his dreams for almost a year. He was pleased that you were flirting, but he had to work the plan.  Couldn’t go too fast.

“You look… great.  I can’t wait to see you tomorrow in your wedding dress. You will be a beautiful bride.”  

Chris broke his voice in just the right place to convey a wistfulness, making you think that he thought he lost you.

You felt bad.  Chris was so sweet.  You thought about him and you thought about Kevin. 

What was the difference between what Chris did and what Kevin did?  

And who did you have more chemistry with? Chris.  

Why were you even marrying Kevin?

You looked over at him looking at you and Chris like a lost dog.

You had no idea why you were marrying him.

“You look… Like Chris fucking Evans.” You two laughed.  

“I bet you’re fighting them off with a stick.”  You sideyed him.

Chris reveled in your interest in his sex life.

“Well, you know. After rehab, I’ve laid off the... physical part of my life. It only brought chaos, you know. I’m trying to be more… zen. Haven’t really had… that  for the better part of a year.”

He watched your eyes get big.  

“Word?”  You smirked. “So you…”

Chris held up his hand.  The one you knew he jacked off with.  You grabbed it and started drawing on his palm.  Chis pulled it back and cleared his throat again. 

You pouted again. Him being hard to get made you wet.

And Chris knew that.

“So… you ready to marry the love of your life?”

 Chris’s sea blues looked you deep into your cocoa browns. You were transported back in time.

“Yes.” 

 Then you snapped out of it.  

“I mean… the church is set up, the dress is bought, everyone’s here. I guess so.”

Chris laughed as if you were telling a joke.  

“I miss your sense of humor.”

You all made small talk and you caught up a little before you asked what you wanted to know.

“So what are you up to tonight?”

Chris looked at his watch.

“I’m actually about to go to my condo an turn in. I get up early to work out.” He felt your eyes sweep up and down his body, and he flexed even though he was fully dressed. It was true. Working out was a regimen. He wanted you drooling for him. 

“It’s the Marvel condo in Brooklyn?”

You nodded, remembering good times.

“So you have a car picking you up?”  Your mind was whirring.

“I actually have a rental.” 

You gulped your drink down, not daring to look in his eyes. Now, not only was your pussy wet, your nipples were hard as hell. 

“It’s in the parking garage down the block.”

“Well, I need to clear my head. I’ll walk you there, and you can drop me back?”

Chris looked down at your cute face, and then around the room, spotted Kevin and gave him a nod.

“You sure that’s a good idea?”  

You looked at Kevin, too.  You wanted to stick your tongue out, but you just took Chris by the arm and headed toward the door.

“I’m a big girl. Nobody owns me.” 

You looked up into Chris’s eyes and instantly regretted that statement. You played it off and pulled him through the door.

You didn’t talk at all the entire way, both of your heads deep in the clouds of you and him.  The chemistry was crackling the air between you.

You held on to his arm, and he let you, reveling in your touch.

When you reached the parking garage, Chris pressed the button with his knuckle and you got in, headed for the top deck.

You just stared at each other, both thinking the same thing. Chris chuckled.

“You’re dangerous, night before your wedding, you probably have cold feet, I’m here. Maybe you want to be sure that you’re sure…”

You cocked your head. “Who said I wanted to fuck you, Chris Evans?”

Chris cocked his head too, mirroring you.  “Who said ‘fuck?’ I was thinking you wanted to talk.”

He smirked and you scowled as the door opened.

Chris left you in the elevator stewing as he walked over to the black Tesla he’d rented. There was no other car on the deck.

You scoffed, and followed him out.

He was about to walk around to the driver's side door when you grabbed his arm before he made it. He stopped directly in front of the car.

“Do you mean to tell me that you don’t want me?”  You were hot, in more ways than one.

Chris leaned back against the hood.

“That’s not what we’re talking about, y/n. You’re getting married tomorrow. To someone else.”

You smiled and reached up, fingers grazing his neck and playing with the hair at his nape. You ran your fingers through his beard.  Kevin’s couldn’t compare.

“That’s tomorrow. Tonight I’m single as fuck.” 

You stood on your tip toes and brushed your lips against his, reveling in the moan that came from his throat.

Chris fought to control his urge and continued with his act. His fingers tightened around your waist and you thought this was it.  He turned you around in front of the car and then let you go, stepping back to pace back and forth.

“What? What is this? You’ve had almost a year. Kevin’s my friend. What do you want from me?”  

He advanced on you, and you had to remember to breathe.  He knew what you wanted.

“You. I want you, Chris.”

Chris attacked your lips with his own.  He took two seconds to savor them before he ravaged your mouth with his tongue.  You moaned and he broke from your mouth to re-discover your face, your neck, your cleavage.  He had to control himself not to rip the bodice of your blush pink chiffon dress.

He had a raging hard on, which you were feeling up, remembering how you always struggled to take him.  You wanted him to hurt you with it now.

“Give me this Chris… please…”

You were reaching into his pants, thumb caressing his wet, thick tip. He was leaking for you.

“Remember when you told me that I would meet you in a parking lot, and let you fuck me over the hood of your rental car? Even if I was with someone else?”  

You pulled your hand out and started sucking your thumb, closing your eyes at the taste of Chris after so long.  You pulled it out with a pop.  

“You were so right.”

Chris practically growled, grabbed your arm and spun you, pushing your back until your chest hit the hood of the Model X.  He leaned over you, pushing his covered crotch into the back of your dress, you moaned, wanting more.  His mouth was at your ear.

“Oh, so you want to be my cock whore on the eve of your wedding to someone else.”  You moaned because it was true.

“It’s been so long, Chris…”

He reached down in between you and flipped the flouncy skirt of your dress up, exposing you to the wind of New York City.  He looked at it for a minute, your ass always his favorite.

He caressed it with both hands, pressing into you with his thumbs.  

“So you want me to feel you up?”  He pulled his hand back and sucked one of them, practically jumping for joy when he tasted you. 

“You want me to pull your panties to the side….” and he did so, seeing your slick shine in the moonlight, and playing in it for a minute, tracing your lips and making you quiver around nothing.

The way you were moaning his name was everything right now.

Your face was pressed against the cool metal of the car, and it was the only thing tying you to the earth.

“Oh yes, Chris…. Please please yesss...fuck me… damn...stretch me out…”

Chris’s dick pulsed and he needed you around him. He moved close again and unzipped his pants, the sound making your knees weak.

He teased your cunt with his tip, collecting your arousal and smearing it not only around your pussy, but around your asshole.

“I know you’ve fucked him, but have you let him have your ass?  Am I still the only one…?”

Chris was still playing the game. 

“No, no, no… I haven’t let him… I haven’t given him anything. I’ve been celibate, too.  It’s still yours Chris. All of me is still yours.”

Chris almost came just hearing you say it out loud. He already knew, but hearing you say it was the shit.

He pushed into you with a grunt, and it was difficult.  He didn’t make it. Your cunt squeezed him out.

“Ffffuck, y/n. You’re practically closed down.  Is it true?”  

He started rocking his tip into your pussy slowly, both regretting and reveling in the fact that he didn’t stretch you out with his fingers beforehand.  Then he decided that he wanted you to feel this fully.

You couldn’t answer, only responding with moans has he painfully breached you. You welcomed it, though.

“Ah, ah, ah, ah… yes Chris.  Only you.. Since you and I….”  Talking about it and the fact that you were taking him again made you wetter, and eased Chris’s way, although your pussy was already stinging with his girth. Your eyes rolled back in your head.

You would never get over this and were so grateful for the feeling again.  

Chris watched you and had to grit his teeth to hold back from the reality that he was taking you again. 

He leaned over you, hot breath huffing in your ear, puffing and groaning as he fucked you slowly.  He was trying to feel every sensation. He wanted you to know that each and every millimeter of your glorious wet, tight pussy was his.

‘Ohhhh. Fuck Chris… YESSSS!”  Your voice echoed off the concrete walls, and Chris wanted you louder.

“This what you wanted?  You wanted your thick cock inside you again. Hunh?  You wanted me to stretch your walls and fuck you raw, hunh?”  He started speeding up in time with your moans.

“Such a fucking filthy cockslut for me, baby.”  Chris grabbed your neck from the back. “Why didn’t you let Kevin hit, hunh?”  

You didn’t answer, you just moaned and Chris smacked your ass, hard.

“Chris! Fuck!”  

You screamed. You missed his ruthlessness when you fucked, you missed him making sure that you knew that he knew that you knew. You belonged to him. 

 “Please!”

“I know why.” 

Chris stopped fucking you and pressed down harder on your back, reaching around to find your clit.  He swirled around it once, then started to press down slowly. 

“Because you would never beg him for that subpar dick that he has. You’re MY whore. You belong to me.”

He pressed down roughly, and you detonated around his dick.  He didn’t have to move.  Chris pulled out, leaving you cold and bereft.

You turned around and leaned up against the hood, panting and still desperate for him.  He stood there in front of you, dick sticking out of his pants, which were ruined, and still rock hard and ready. He was in a quiet rage.

“Why did you leave me?” 

You searched his face.  He sounded like he was about to cry.  You couldn’t quite see his entire face, but his eyes shone, bright with liquid.  You went toward him.

“You hurt me Chris.  I couldn’t stay. But let me take care of you now.”

You got on your knees in front of him, the hard concrete of the parking structure digging into your knees.  

Again, you welcomed the physical pain, distracting you from what you were doing to Kevin, to Chris, and to yourself.

Chris felt like he could fly.  You on your knees for him again was a dream. 

He took his cock in his hand, stroking it, while moving close to you. In no time, the back of your head was in his palm, and you opened wide to accept him, hand coming up to stroke what you couldn’t fit.

“Ah, ah. Let me.”  

You looked up at him to see an evil grin shine down on you. 

Chris looked down on an angel trying to swallow him whole. He brushed the tears away from your eyes as you struggled to breathe. You were perfection.

Moaning around him, you relaxed your mouth and throat and let him use you.  It was difficult, because you were out of practice, but you welcomed the letting go of all thought. 

You dripped down your thighs as Chris pumped into you, ready to accept what he had to give. 

After a few minutes, he stopped, and pulled out, grabbing you up to your feet. 

Then he bent down and grabbed you by the back of your thighs and you wrapped your legs around his waist, kissing him and trying to grind down on his still-erect cock as he backed you to the car.

Your ass hit the hood, and Chris reached between you to first tear your panties off. He put them in his pocket as he swiped his dick up and down your dripping wet folds.  

He looked back up to watch your face as he pushed inside you, now, an easier path to nirvana.

He pulsed as he watched the pleasure take over your face, with your mouth slack and your eyes glassed over. This was his main purpose in life and he almost lost it.

He brought his hand up to bring you closer, breathed into your mouth as he squeezed your throat. You were high instantly, and clamped down on his cock as your body was wracked with waves of pleasure.

Chris let your body descend back down to the car as he pumped his seed into you, his mind fantasizing that he was impregnating you. 

He shook your body as the last ropes of cum spurted out of him. He ran his hand down your body as he pulled out, zipping up his pants as you came back to your senses on the hood of the car.

You stared at the stars as you realized what you had done.  You sat up and adjusted your dress, gingerly climbing back down to the ground.  

Chris kissed you on the forehead, and this time you let him get into the driver’s seat. You got in the passenger side and Chris reached into the glovebox and handed you some wet wipes.

“Fix your face. And your knees.” 

He nodded down to your legs, which were dirty from the parking structure floor.  He watched you wipe your knees off, but stopped you as you went higher.

“No. I want you to feel me all night long.”  

You wanted to be a brat, but you didn’t feel like sass right about now. You felt kinda terrible.

You got another wet wipe and fixed your makeup as best you could as Chris drove you back to the restaurant.

“Chris, I…”

“I know.  None of that meant that we’re back together.  That was for some kind of something, I dunno, something Kevin might have done?” 

You looked down, ashamed. Chris lifted your chin up with his hand.

“I want you to come to me on your own.  You’ve gotten that out of your system, and I’m glad to be of service.”  You looked up into his eyes and at his wry smile.

“But remember, you still have a choice. I’m here if you choose me.”  

He leaned over and gave you a tender kiss in front of the restaurant.

You smiled at him and climbed out of the car, watching as he drove off.

Chris’s heart was beating out of his chest as he watched you turn and go back inside. He fought the urge to turn around. It was better this way.

----

You walked in the restaurant, and pulled Kevin over to the side of the restaurant in dark alcove. 

“Listen. Do you still want to marry me?”

He looked you up and down, taking in your state, from the faint marks on your neck to your scuffed knees.  He knew exactly what was up.

You raised an eyebrow at him.  

-----

Three hours later, a sleepy Chris answered the doorbell in Brooklyn.

He smiled at you, in the Captain America t-shirt and jeans that you’d stolen from him after a photoshoot, looking like his favorite Disney princess. You.

You took him in, clad in grey sweatpants that hung off his magnificently cut body.  He blinked at you sleepily.

“The wedding is off. Chris, I….”

He reached out and grabbed you, pulling you in the brownstone and shutting the door behind you.  He had you pinned up against the wall as you tried to speak.

“Shut up and let me taste you.”  

You grinned and wrapped your legs around his waist as he carried you upstairs.

--- 

The next morning, Chris was on the phone with Scott.

“Yes, tell the workers at the warehouse to dump all the products….I don’t care, the river, the landfill…. Y/N can’t find out that I bought up all her stock…. We’re going to be married..... I know what the fuck I’m doing Scott. We leave for Aruba this afternoon. Listen, I’ll call you later.”

Chris hung up and turned to find you in the doorway, frowning and rubbing your eyes.  

“We’re going to Aruba?”  

You smiled and yawned, sleepily stretching.  That was all that you’d heard of the conversation.

Chris gave you his stunner smile.  

“Yes. It was going to be a surprise.” 

He reached down and swung you up in his arms, carrying you into the bathroom bridal style.

“Now let’s get in the shower.  You’ve been very naughty, gotta get you clean for your wedding day.”

You giggled as you relaxed in Chris’s arms. “It takes two to be naughty, Chris.”

He winked at you as he turned on the shower. “Don’t I know it.”

-----

I know it’s different. Let me know if you like it. Like, comment, reblog! 

Tags:

@olyvoyl @summerofsnowflakes @sillyteecup @riiyy @honeysucklechocolatedrippin @theselilwonders @lonelydance @chattykathysquietsister @anh1020 @nissameta1782 @afriendlyblackhottie @betterkeepmewetterthanabayou @jbrizzywrites @stilltoyou  @donutloverxo @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @kiwisa @food8me @aiikaa @marvelfansworld  @london-grunge @pheebsyells @thesecretlifeofdaydreams-bl-blog @douxtille @ximaginexx @fofisstilinski @bertieandberries @ladystrawberry @bit-of-a-timelord @chesca-791 @calimoi @fangirlfree @bbaengtan @karolsboo @aliceforbes @insertpithyusername @sickknik @photmath @whorekneebrain  @anacrcarvalho @iconicshit @spicybibimbap @chaoticsteverogers@txtsfromyourex @sadthotsonlylove @ikatieebabyy@nerdymugsharkempath @maroonsunrise83

[taestefully-in-luv]

Always You | JJK (Five)

Summary: you and Jungkook have been best friends since freshmen year of college, there’s a lot of unsaid feelings and tension but neither make a move. what happens when his friend Taehyung (also your crush) needs a fake girlfriend?

Pairing: Jungkook x Female reader, slight Taehyung x Reader

Genre: friends to lovers, idiots to lovers, slight slow burn, roommate au, college au, SMUT (starting ch2), fluff, angst (in later chapters) slight crack, lots of drama

Word Count: 12.1k

Warnings: Swearing, alcohol consumption, sexual tension (?) sad oc, mentions of sex, kind of over the clothes action, drama, heated dance session lol, slight memory of sex, hair pulling, back scratching, mention of boner, second chances (?)

Notes: Okay, first of all THAT 1st TEASER PIC!!! DID WE SEE THAT? *chefs kiss*. Anyway thanks for comments you guys leave I really love reading them!!! Remember to send an ask if you want to be added to the taglist or just want to chat about the story:) have a great week everyone!

Taglist: @mooniyooni @thisartemisnevermisses @giadalin @kookiebunny097 @cosmosjk @moonchild1 @just-jeon @anpanman-sonyeondan @starlight-night0 @yessii-i @apollukee @mikasaredscarf1 @kaye-rosales @bunnyjeonjk @dyriddle @seagulljk @hass-mich-los @peachy-skz0325 @wonusbitch

© taestefully-in-luv

Previous --- Next

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

May

Gloomy: The dictionary may describe it as hopeless and despairing but really it should just be a picture of your sad, sad face.

1 month…yes, one whole month has passed since you last spoke to Jungkook. No text, no calls, no random show ups, nothing. Gloom. Gloom. Gloom. Graduation came and gone so quickly…you walked the stage with your friends minus two but honestly you can hardly remember the event. You tried your hardest to be as excited as everyone else but the feeling of gloom stayed with you.

By the end of the month you finally started accepting he isn’t coming back and right around that time you actually heard from him—Jungkook that is. He sent you a pathetic text that he’s moving out and will be by to retrieve his things. More gloom.

The next couple weeks after that are a blur, you recall the sound of movers throughout your apartment. You didn’t have the courage to speak to him…you didn’t have the courage to even leave your room if you didn’t have to. You were so wrapped up in everything you didn’t even consider that fact that you will have to find a new roommate to cover the other half of the rent.

Every day just dragged on, every day a repeat of the last. Wake up, drown in black coffee, scroll mindlessly through your phone and work your full time job. You called in sick too many days already so you have to go or you’re at risk at getting fired. The same day, every day. The same gloomy fucking day.

Jimin tried to call or text every day to make sure you were like, alive. He apologized over and over for not telling you as soon as he found out about the Taehyung situation but he felt that if Taehyung was going to tell you then it is best it comes from him and not Jimin. You can understand that. He also frequently would show up at your apartment to surprise you but you rarely let him in. You did feel bad though, he’s just trying to be there for you.

Jimin 6:04pm

Please let me in?

Jimin 6:05pm

Well…I have some take out for you babe, ill leave it on the doorstep.

Jimin 6:05pm

Call me sometime ok? Love you

Guilt would consume your body but you just couldn’t deal with human contact right now.

June

Around month 2 you finally felt okay to see people again—your close people that is—aka Jimin was finally allowed in, he made you take a hot bath while he cleaned up for you and made you a proper meal. The amount of instant ramen containers lying around the place was by far one of the grossest things he’s seen. The shit that was growing…he shudders just thinking about it.

He would come over every day after work in the evenings. He left day time babysitting to Trina.

“Girl…all this over a boy?” she would constantly say.

You also tried applying for job after job, but the postgraduation life is harder than you thought…at least for you. Jimin landed a job as a kids choreographer, Trina starts up at one of the local elementary schools as a kindergartner teacher and you? You’re still working at the bakery down the street. You applied for many entry level positions in the marketing field but failed miserably in interviews…which only further discouraged you and worsened your mood.

It was also around this time you decided to finally delete Jungkook off all social media and block his number. You refuse to hear from him at this point…not that he was reaching out or anything. You wonder what he’s up to postgraduation? No, you don’t want to know or care. You considered hanging up a picture of his face on your wall so you could throw darts at it but you decided that was maybe on the crazy side. Taehyung sends you weekly texts, asking about how your day/week is going. He updates you on his life as well, apparently he got the curator assistant position at the museum that he wanted. You still feel hurt over everything but you are happy for him. It’s funny, you feel so betrayed over that but Jungkook is the cause of your gloom.

Every day just drags on, you feel heavy everywhere you go. Even when you’re just at home in bed.

By the end of the month your friends somehow convinced you to go on a date—a horrible date at that.

He was awkward as hell, a bad kisser and would lightly…tap your ass in attempt to be sexy. It was a disaster, you don’t even remember what the two of you even talked about at dinner. You just remember his tongue being horribly shoved down your throat and his weird ass tapping habit.

July

Then month 3 finally came around. A month where the weeks went by breathing became just a bit easier. Yes, any and everything still reminded you of Jungkook but it didn’t hurt as terribly as the previous months. By the end of the month you even agreed to your first real social outing. You are hesitant, but you agreed…

“I don’t know guys…a birthday party? We like, don’t even know the girl?” you frown, nibbling on the flesh of your bottom lip.

You are sitting in the middle of your bedroom floor, clothes piling all around you as you try to decide on what to wear.

“You need to get out babe…plus it’s a friend of a friend, so it’s cool.” Jimin says holding up a rose colored crop top, motioning for you to nod yes or no to his suggestion. You cock your head to the side, deciding what pants to go with it.

“I have to say I agree with Jimin, y/n.” your new roommate Holly chips in, “Since I’ve moved in I don’t think I’ve seen you go out even once.”

“Also a party is the best place to find some easy dick.” Of course that’s what Trina has to offer.

“Yes to the crop top Jimin.” You point your head towards the shirt, “Okay don’t have to call me out like that Holly.” You glare at your roomie, “And Trina, we both know I ain’t ready for no type of dick.”

“So we’re looking for some pussy tonight?” Trina smirks, “Nice.”

You rolls your eyes, a chuckle escaping your lips, “Shut up.” you throw a pair of shorts at her face.

“But seriously y/n…Maybe Trina is on to something…” Jimin sits down next to you, crossing his legs in front of him, “Maybe this is a good chance to like—”

“If you say move on I will literally kill you.” You cut in, “There’s nothing to move on from!” you throw your hands up dramatically. “Taehyung used me, Jungkook wants nothing to do with me. And—”

“Then why aren’t you ready for any type of dick?” Holly puts in her 2 fucking cents.

“Because I don’t want to be associated with any boys! Jimin is the exception.”

“Somehow I don’t feel flattered by that…” Jimin puts a hand on your shoulder.

“When’s the last time you got off?” Trina abruptly asks. You turn your head in shock at her shamelessness.

“Trina!”

“Answer her, I’m curious too.” Jimin squints at you trying not to laugh.

“It’s…” your eyes slide to the side, “It’s been a while.”

Trina shakes her in disapproval, “Damn girl, really? My fingers constantly playing DJ, you know what I’m sayin?” Trina goes in for a fist bump but you just push her hand away.

“You’re gross.” You laugh out loud, and it sounds like music to everyone’s ears.

“I’m just real babey.” She flicks her hair back with a proud smile on her face.

Having these 3 around has no doubt helped you deal with the loss you feel. You feel like you are still mourning the dead. How’s Jungkook even doing? You’re too afraid to ask Jimin. Too afraid that he’s doing amazing without you. He must of realized how much better off he is without you around and that makes you feel small.

“Fine…” you mutter under your breath…Jimin snaps his head to look at you, his sly smile growing as he watches you fiddle with a short mini skirt.

“Fine what?” Trina asks with a smirk.

“Let’s find me some dick tonight.”

“Hell fucking yeah.” Jimin claps his hands together, “Tonight is about you!”

“y/n makes her debut tonight! She’s hot, she’s single and she is ready to mingle!”

You can’t help but giggle, your hands bunching up the material of the mini skirt as you look down at it, making your decision.

“Let me get ready and we can get this night started!” you rush to your feet, all the sudden feeling excited for tonight. You are going to actually do your hair and your makeup—you even shaved. You are definitely breathing easier tonight and you have to take advantage of that!

“Let’s do shots as we wait girlies,” Holly shows a bottle of rum she had hiding behind her back, shaking it in excitement.

“Naughty girl.” Jimin winks, standing to his feet, heading towards the kitchen to grab some shot glasses.

You get ready quickly, but taking your time where it counts. You give yourself a once over in the mirror and you have to say you are impressed. Your black jean mini skirt sits right below your ass, while your tits pop in this rose crop top. You wear short heels, and simple jewelry with just the right amount of makeup that makes your features stand out, and you have to say you would kiss yourself if you could—you look fucking good.

“woooooo” Jimin and Trina whistle out at the same time as they walk back in your bedroom.

“I’d fuck.” Jimin says plainly.

“Same as fuck.” Trina says bluntly as she swallows down a shot.

“Yeah you look pretty y/n!” Holly smiles, not really on the same level of honestly as your other two friends.

You burst into giggles, throwing your head back in approval. “Thanks guys…..Lets fucking do this.” You walk towards Trina and grab her shot glass, and you take the bottle from Holly, pouring yourself a shot.

“Ready to fucking mingle.” You gulp down the rum, the burn only encouraging you, the warmth stinging your entire chest and you couldn’t feel more content.

This house was one of the bigger ones, it was full of people and more people and like, more people. You managed to swallow down 3 or 4 shots back at your apartment and the alcohol is definitely working its magic on you, the world just a little nicer.

The amount of people doesn’t even bother you like it usually would, instead you find yourself barging through the front door and making your way to the dance floor with your 3 friends trialing behind you.

The heat of the living room is already intoxicating you, the amount of bodies rolling and grinding makes you feel loose and free. Before you know it Jimin is pushing a drink into your hands and you hug him gratefully as you begin chugging it back.

“Woah slow down, we have all night—actually fuck it, I like your spirit tonight!” he chuckles lightly, his hands going to your waist, rocking you to the beat of the blaring music. Trina and Holly disappear into the kitchen to grab more drinks while you and Jimin dance to whatever b…t…ah, forget it, you forgot the band’s name.

“Are you having fun?” Jimin slurs out, his eyes barely visible as he laughs at nothing.

“So much fun!” you yell out over the music then you lean down into his ear and whisper, “Thanks so much Jiminie…I know I was a little difficult…”

“A little?” he teases.

Jimin’s eyes travel behind you before they are widening. You notice, of course. You are about to turn your head to take a look at whatever he is seeing when his snaps back to you in panic, his troubled smile growing.

“Let’s go find Trina and Holly, yeah?” he tries to usher you toward the kitchen and you oblige. Too drunk and feeling too good that his odd behavior goes ignored by you.

“Kay!” you smile, hooking your arm with his. “Letsa go!” you say like you’re fucking Mario.

The two of you walk to the kitchen, finding Trina and Holly playing a game of beer pong with two random guys.

“Hello my bitches!” Trina hollers over the thumping bass, as she scores a cup of pong, her other hand on Hollys lower back.

“Wait, gotta use the bathroom, be right back!” you slur into Jimin’s ear, he just nods distractedly as he watches the game, laughter erupting his body for probably no drunken reason.

You walk back into the living room and start heading towards the other side where the bathroom is. The journey to the bathroom is fun, you accidently bump into a lot of people but they don’t seem to mind as they will just drunkenly smile at you and you would smile back in your own drunken daze. You skim the room with a dopey smile on your face, just admiring the crowd. You are shocked with yourself…you missed people and you cannot believe it. You continue to observe when your eyes land on tattooed hands. The hands are grabbing a handful of ass on the dance floor. You know these hands. Your eyes travel from his hands to his strong arms to his face…it is hiding in the nook of some girls neck and you feel like someone knocked the wind out of you. Jungkook.

He is kissing on some girl, no doubt leaving bruises behind from his attack on her neck. His hands cupping this girls ass so tightly, he guides her hips into his. You watch as she throws her head back in pleasure and you see him smirk. All his signature moves. You are left speechless. What could you even say? Why does this hurt? Why does this make you feel fucking sick? Why does it feel like you aren’t supposed to be witnessing this? Well, you know why but god, why?!

“y/n!!” It’s Jimin, jogging up behind you, “Fuck, I was trying to avoid you seeing this…” he admit softly, “I swear I didn’t think he was going to be here tonight…he didn’t seem that interested when I asked him about it…”

“It’s fine Jimin…” you mumble.

“Does it feel weird? Seeing him with this girl…?” Jimin is obviously trying to get you to admit something right now but you are not in the right head space to even give it a second thought.

“Why should it? Plus I’m used to this…she’s just some random girl for one night.” You twirl the ends of your hair between your fingers.

“Oh babe…” Jimin glances down at the ground, “This girl…she…he’s brought her to every party for the last month…” Jimin sounds as sorry as you feel.

The same girl? That’s impossible, you scoff. There’s no way Jungkook is actually seeing someone. But that doesn’t stop your stomach from twisting and turning and making you feel fucking sick.

“What do you mean?” you finally slur out, leaning your frame on Jimin.

“He brings her and they leave together too…” Jimin holds on to you, “I haven’t really asked him about her though.”

“Whatever. Fuck him, right? I won’t let this ruin my night.” You smile coyly, draping your arms around your friend. “Bathroom please.” You pout theatrically, pointing your head towards the bathroom.

“Okay let’s get you peeing in peace.” Jimin laughs, guiding you towards the door.

Once at the door, you knock a couple times to find that it is empty, “I’ll wait for you out here.” Jimin assures you.

Once inside the small room, you bunch up your skirt and pull down your panties, squatting on the toilet. You sigh in relief as you pee, but the relief you feel in your body stops when you recall the way Jungkook held and kissed this random but not so random girl.

Why should it bother you? It’s about time Jungkook got serious! But why did he have to dump you to achieve that? And why did It have to be with someone el…

You reach for the toilet paper, ripping it after a few sheets and wipe yourself as you drunkenly sing a tune. So what? You can easily replace Jungkook too!

You stand up, pulling your panties up and your skirt down and take a long good look in the mirror. Your hair is still intact, your makeup is only a little smeared—quick fix, and your tits are still poppin’. This night is just beginning, you decide. A whole new wave of confidence begins washing over you.

“Ready!” You pounce on Jimin’s back, he stumbles forward while laughing wholeheartedly.

“Should we look for Trina and Holly again? They’re probably still playing beer pong!”

“Sure.” You smile, walking hand in hand with Jimin as you make your way back to the kitchen.

Hours pass and you are now outside on the back porch piss drunk with your 3 friends and a couple new friends. Nick and his pal that you can’t remember the name of—but you remember Nick. He’s really tall and has nice muscles covering his body, his light hair is messy and looks like you would have fun pulling it.

“And that’s why I think aliens are already here bro, like they are probably here at this fucking party bro.” No name friend finishes his point. Nick holds in his chuckle as his drunk friend rambles.

“Totally bro.” Then his eyes land on you. Fuck, were you staring? Oh well, it’s best to get to the point. You two have been making eyes at each other all night and it’s time to make the next move.

“Hey Nick, wanna grab a drink with me in the kitchen?” you inquire with a sly smile.

Jimin’s eyes widen before he’s smirking “Don’t be silly, wrap that willy.”

Trina and Holly laugh at Jimin’s words while you turn fucking red with embarrassment.

“Sorry about him…” You excuse Jimin, but you continue to smile slyly.

Nick grins with all his teeth as he takes your hand and leads you back inside the house. His hand is much larger than yours and you are already imagining what his beefy fingers will do to your vagina. God, what’s his dick like???

You enter the kitchen and you and him walk towards the cooler full of beers, he lets you stand to the side as he goes to grab them.

“Nick!!!!” you hear a familiar voice and you wince. Jungkook stands next to the cooler, his hand wrapped around the girls hand, but he briefly lets go of it to dap up your fuck for the night.

“What’s up bro!” Nick returns the handshake, a wide smile on his face.

They know each other?

“I thought you said you weren’t coming tonight?” Jungkook’s hand goes back to holding on to the girl.

“I wasn’t going to but,” he nods towards you, “Glad I did.” He winks. Jungkook’s eyes follow Nicks nod and when he sees you stand there awkwardly he goes completely pale. Your eyes meet uncomfortably, Jungkook let’s go of the girls hand without a second thought.

“y/n?” he questions with a pained expression.

“You know her?” Nick asks, totally out of the loop.

You shift from one foot to the other, not really sure what to do or say. So you settle for his name. “Jungkook.” It feels foreign on your tongue. Like if you said it 3 times in a mirror a sinister ghost would come to murder you.

Jungkook opens his mouth then closes it then opens it then closes it again.

“Baaaaabe,” the girl next to him whines, “let’s get out of here already.” She says, not even acknowledging your existence.

Jungkook shamelessly eyes you up and down, his shock is very evident as he looks at you.

You can’t help but smile a little, knowing you look damn good.

“Let’s go too, Nick.” You saunter to his side, grabbing a hold of his bicep.

That’s when Jungkook knocks out of daze, his brows crease as he looks between the two of you.

“Wait—you and Nick?” he asks, completely amused.

“Is that a problem?”

“Nope.” Jungkook looks fucking smug as he smiles, his hand going to grab the girls hand again. “See you later?” he asks you. You of all people! “Uh? Probably not?”

“I wouldn’t be so sure of that.” Jungkook winks, turning around to leave as he leads his girl out.

Nick just continues to smile, completely oblivious, “So cool that we all know each other!” he grips on to your waist.

“Wait, how do you know Jungkook?”

“We—”

“Wait, it honestly doesn’t matter. Let’s just get out of here.”

“My place?” Nick breathes into your ear, he pushes your hips into his crotch so you can feel his half hard cock.

“Why are you already getting hard?” you tease, leaning up to kiss his neck.

“Honestly, I can’t stop staring at your tits. And I am imagining all the things I want to do to them.” He confesses hotly.

The uber ride to his place is short, only 10 minutes and it goes by quickly as you two have one another’s tongues down each others throats. His hands traveling all around your body, he even manages to slip his fingers past your panties to feel how wet you are.

“Fuck I can’t wait to get you inside…” his rapid breaths fan across your face as you nibble on his neck.

“Gonna fuck me?” you whisper quietly, not trying to get heard by the Uber driver, but you could also hardly care if he hears you or not, he gets 5 stars.

“Want you to ride me.” He palms his cock through his pants as he imagines you bouncing on his cock for him.

“If you deserve it like a good boy.” You replace his hand with your own, rubbing him ferociously over his jeans. You haven’t felt dick in months and the feeling is driving you absolutely wild, you haven’t felt this needy in a long time.

The Uber comes to a stop, parking in front of an apartment building. He lets the two of you know you reached your destination. You and Nick giggle as you thank him and stumble out of the car as you follow him to his apartment. He would stop every few seconds to plant kisses on your lips and grab your ass with a tight squeeze. He groans and rolls his eyes back as he explores your body.

“Wait til we’re inside,” you breathe out, your voice silky as hell.

Finally, after a short, kiss filled elevator ride later you arrive at his front door. His lips never leaving yours as he pulls out his keys, fumbling with them until he finds the right one.

He pulls away for a second to unlock the door and desperately pushes it open to let the two of you inside. Your lips are already back on his as you two trip into the entry way of the apartment, you walk him backwards, until his back is against a wall.

The apartment is dark besides the living room TV, you take a second to pull back and admire Nick’s fucked out expression, the blue glow of the TV making everything feel surreal.

You dive back in to kiss him, he prods his tongue into your mouth, swirling it around with yours making you moan into his mouth.

“Hi guys!”

Your eyes shoot open, mouth still attached to Nicks. You push your head back, disconnecting from Nick and yank your head to the left where you see a wild Jungkook sitting on the living room sofa, his mouth full of the cereal he is eating. He is wearing the most shit eating grin you have ever seen on him.

“Jungkook?! What the fuck?” You spit out, totally fucking shocked. Like, obviously.

“Hey man…” Nick breathes out heavily, trying to speak properly, “I thought you would be at Vanessa’s tonight?”

“Nah,” Jungkook smiles, “Dropped her off and came home.”

HOME?

“H-Home?” You look between the two guys, what the fuck does he mean by that. This is Nicks place, right?

“Oh you didn’t know?” Jungkook nods his head toward Nick, “Nick here is my beloved roommate.”

“What the fuck…” you mutter under your breath, trying to understand the mother fucking situation. Were you about to fuck Jungkook’s roommate? Are you still going to is the real question?

“Wait, how do you two even know each other?” Nick starts to look antsy, “Don’t tell me she’s one of the girls you’ve fucked…come on bro, leave some for the rest of us.” He chuckles somewhat bitterly.

“No!” you’re quick to say. You begin smoothing out your skirt, then your hair. “We just…”

“y/n is my bestie!” Jungkook grins, putting the cereal down and standing up. He walks forward until he is making a triangle with you and Nick.

“Was.” You spit out harshly, crossing your arms across your chest. Nick just stands there confused as hell, looking between the two of you.

“Anyway, I should get going.” You turn your body to Nick, a look of apology on your face.

“What? We can just go to my room?” he slurs, tugging on his pants uncomfortably, his boner still apparent.

“Sorry, no longer in the mood.”

You pull out your phone to order an Uber when Jungkook takes your phone from you.

“I’m not drunk, I can drive you.” He offers. You push your head back in disbelief, how does Jungkook have the AUDACITY to offer that to you?

“Why the fuck would I want that?”

“So we can…” His eyes slide over to the ever growing confused Nick, “Talk.”

You haven’t spoken to Jungkook in 3 months and today is finally the day you are able to breathe a little easier and he just has to barge back in.

“Like I said,” You snatch your phone back from him, “Why the fuck would I want that?”

Nick shifts around uncomfortably, his eyes darting from you to Jungkook.

“Well, I am gonna head to my room…uh, bye y/n…it was nice meeting you…I guess…”

You and Jungkook both turn your heads toward Nick at the same time, eyes shooting daggers at him.

“Yeah, bye.” Jungkook dismisses his roommate, his jaw clenching.

“Nice to meet you too…”

Nick walks backward until his back meets his bedroom room, he looks at the two of you one last time before turning around to disappear into his room.

“I said, let me drive you home.”

“And I said, why the fuck would I want that?”

“y/n don’t choose now to be difficult.” Jungkook takes a step closer to you, his hands running through his dark, messy hair. His eyes shut in frustration, “I just want to talk to you.”

“And I don’t want to talk to you.” You take a step back, “Plus, how would your girlfriend feel if you took me home?”

Jungkook’s eyes narrow, his mouth setting in a firm line.

“She’s not my girlfriend.”

“Could of fooled me and like, everyone else.” You scoff.

Jungkook bites down on his bottom lip, not knowing what to say. While she’s not his girlfriend she’s also not not his girlfriend. It’s complicated.

“Can I please, just please, can I take you home?”

“No, Jungkook. The fucking audacity,” you scoff again, “You haven’t spoken to me in 3 months,” your voice fucking cracks and you feel like dying. “Don’t start now.”

“y/n…” he runs another frustrated hand down his tired face, “I didn’t mean for it to go this long…” “I don’t fucking care, Jungkook.”

You feel your chest begin to burn, and your eyes begin to gloss over but you won’t cry. You won’t give him the satisfaction.

“I want nothing to do with you.”

You stare at the phone in your hands as you begin ordering your Uber when he yanks it from your hands once again, he hides the phone in his back pocket and you snarl.

“What the hell Jeon?”

“I said I am driving you home so we can talk so that’s what we are gonna fucking do, okay?” he grabs your hand and begins walking you towards the front door. There’s something about Jungkook...you decide to listen. You watch silently as he puts on his shoes and grabs his wallet and keys.

“Okay…” you finally answer, your voice timid.

He said you guys are going to talk but the car ride has been mostly silent save the low radio playing in the background. Maybe it’s better this way, you think. You aren’t sober, that’s for sure but you also don’t think you are drunk enough to handle this properly. You decide maybe that’s also for the best.

“You sir, are a fucking asshole.” You speak up, your fingers playing with the zipper of your purse. The car smells like it always does, his fresh laundry car freshener and you get sucked into a million memories linked with this scent.

“I know.” Jungkook eyes you from the driver seat, you shiver from the running AC and so he turns it down, “There’s a blanket in the back if you want to grab it.”

“No thanks, don’t know where that’s been.”

“It’s clean, I promise.”

Your eyes go wide as you recall his last promise to you…”Just a few days. I promise.”

“Yeah, I don’t actually believe in your promises anymore.” You continue to pick at the zipper of your purse, your eyes never leaving the zig and zag of the material.

“I needed space y/n, fucking sue me.” He groans out, his fingers gripping the steering wheel tightly.

“Oh I wish I could.” You snap back.

You feel your chest burn and tighten again, your eyes slightly watering. You have to force them shut to keep from any tears growing.

“I called and texted you every day.” You whisper, his grip getting tighter on the steering wheel.

“I gave you a few days Jungkook. But I never heard from you until 11 at night one night telling me you are fucking moving out.”

“I know, that was…fucked up, I admit. But I had to do what I had to do and I just wish you would let me explain that—”

“No.” you cut him off, “You don’t deserve to explain anything.”

“You mean so much to me y/n…”

“Don’t.”

Jungkook pulls over on the side of the road, turning off the ignition.

“What are you doing?” you sputter out.

He clicks his seatbelt off his body and turns to face you, “Getting comfortable.”

“Why?”

“Will you look at me?” Jungkook tilts his head towards you, “Will you please look at me?”

“No.” you stay facing forward, your hands folded in your lap.

“y/n…please.” His voice sounds strained and you almost feel bad. Almost, but not quite.

You don’t need this…you don’t need him. Ouch, you feel pain in your chest as you think that…oh, the lies you tell yourself.

“Say what you need to say Jungkook, so you can take me home.” Your face stays neutral.

Jungkook sighs out, feeling almost defeated, but not quite.

“I…I am so sorry.” He finally says.

“About what?”

“Everything y/n.” his voice cracks and somehow you feel satisfied.

“You’ll have to be more specific if you ever want my acceptance”

“I know…the first thing I am sorry for is not telling you about Taehyung. That was…that was wrong of me—”

“No shit, but go on.” Your voice stays steady as you speak.

“I was worried about other shit, I was selfish and it’s taking me a long time to forgive myself…but I’ve thought a lot about it these last few months and—and…”

“Oh? You’re worried about you forgiving yourself? Shouldn’t you be a little more concerned about I don’t know, me?”

Jungkook frowns at your words, because well, you’re right. And he’s getting to that part but you keep interrupting him. But he lets you.

“Yes. I am most worried about you, of course.” He breathes out. “You have no idea what these 3 months without you have felt like…”

“Really Jungkook? If anyone knows its fucking me. I went 3 months without you too. You left me!” you start to lose your composure as you speak, your hands gripping on to your poor purse. “When I was going through a really hard time you straight up left me.” You whisper.

“Please believe me…I had my reasons. It was truly for the best y/n.”

“For the best?” you scoff. “You’re such an asshole.”

Jungkook winces at your words, he knows you mean them and that hurts him even more.

“Can you just trust me?” Jungkook blurts out.

Huh? You shake your head, disappointed he would say something so …well, ridiculous.

“Just stop, Jungkook.” You hesitantly roll your eyes, still shaking your head.

Jungkook licks his lips over and over, trying to figure out his next words.

“I really really,” he begins to lose it, his eyes darting all around the car. “just need you to trust me.” He blinks repeatedly, his eyes not focusing on anything in particular.

You, of course, do not believe your ears. Trust him? How could you possibly trust him?

“I just really…I really had my reasons y/n. And I’m sorry, but I just need you to just trust me, that I had my reasons and that I do care about you.” His voice is shaky and you’re uncertain how to take this information.

“I’m confused…” you begin, you tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “You want me to trust you? Even after you left me? Even after I ‘threw myself’ at you?!”

“You weren’t in the right head space y/n…you were vulnerable and…and you didn’t actually want me. You just were feeling used and rejected and needed something to make you feel wanted. To feel better. You wanted to use me for that and I couldn’t let you. But how much could I handle? You liked one of my friends, dated him…sort of, even slept with him and I had to be your shoulder to cry on when,” his breathing picks up heavily as he tries to speak, “it doesn’t matter.” He grits out.

You sit there…speechless. He wasn’t wrong, was he? You were feeling lost and rejected and used and you just wanted something or someone to feel better and who better than your best friend? But it’s also his fault you needed things to work out with Taehyung in the first place!

“Jungkook—”

“I’m not done.” He breathes out, his hot breath reaching your skin.

“I needed some space to think. But I realized I couldn’t properly think things through if I saw you every day, so yeah, I moved out. I’m sorry…” He runs a hand through his hair, a light chuckle makes it way past his lips “Then I met Vanessa.”

“I don’t want to talk about your little girlfriend.” You turn to face forward in your seat, your eyes glancing at the stop sign ahead.

“I told you, she’s not my girlfriend. But it is complicated.”

You continue to look straight ahead, your heart racing in your chest. The subject of “Vanessa” making you feel anxious.

“Complicated how?” you gulp.

“Don’t worry about it.” He laughs to himself, you turn your head to look at him.

“Are you serious, Jungkook?”

“We fuck y/n.”

“But it’s more than that right?”

“Yeah…” Jungkook bites down on his lip.

You look at him bewildered.

“Do you like her? Love her?”

You grip your purse in your lap, waiting for his answer. How would you feel if he answers yes? Are you brave enough to endure that answer? And if he says no? should you be happy? Should you feel relieved?

“No.” he closes his eyes, he folds his hands in front of him. “It’s complicated.”

You sign in relief—oh. Relief is the emotion you are feeling. Why? Why should it matter?

“Why are you telling me all of this?” you whisper.

“I want to be friends again, y/n.” he says softly, his eyes searching yours.

This is madness, how the hell could you save this friendship? Your face scrunches up and the first couple of tears slide down your cheeks, you shake your head as they continue to fall.

“You don’t know how this makes me feel…” you cry out. “I don’t even know how it makes me feel.”

You miss him, so fucking much and he’s right here offering himself to you. But you ‘re so hurt.

“y/n…I know I hurt you. But you gotta believe me when I say it is the hardest thing I have had to do…you understand that right? I had to do it…you understand right?” he begs.

“You were so quick to abandon me, Jungkook.” You drop your head into your hands, the tears uncontrollable now.

“I…” Jungkook begins to panic, his own eyes glossing over. “Fuck, I’m so sorry. Please y/n…I can make it up to you.”

“Things would never be the same, you get that right?” you bawl into your lap, your words coming out broken.

“Please baby, I just need you in my life again…” Jungkook admits, his own words choppy. He reaches his hand to touch you, to his surprise you don’t flinch. His hand cups the back of your head and he begins to massage it softly.

“I have missed you so much and nothing I mean nothing can replace you.” He hesitates to continue, “trust me…I have tried.”

You sob into your hands harder, the weight of his words crushing you.

“I’m sorry Jungkook but I…I don’t believe you.”

Jungkook’s eyes widen as he absorbs your words, his mouth falls open in shock. Don’t believe him?

“What—what do you mean? What are you saying?” his panic filled voice makes your stomach churn.

“I reject your offer. Now please take me home.” You lift your head and stare straight ahead. “I’m serious.”

Jungkook face twists into a bewildered expression, he doesn’t believe his ears. You…reject him?

“Wait—”

“I said take me home now.” This time you snap your face in his direction, the cold look in your eyes piercing his very soul.

“Okay.”

Hopeless: the dictionary describes it as without hope ; despairing. But in reality, it’s just a picture of Jungkook’s poor, poor face.

Jungkook parks in his designated spot in the lot of his apartment complex, he reverses in because why the hell not. So extra. His drive home was silent… not even the radio on a low volume keeping him company, just complete silence. He turns the car off but doesn’t make a move to get out, he just continues to sit here in his car and sigh out dramatically every 5 seconds.

He’s so confused and lost on what to do. He bangs his head against the steering wheel a few times just for the hell of it, he just…he didn’t think you would reject him. But honestly? Can he blame you? All he’s done lately is be selfish and mess up over and over again. But he wishes you could just trust him but he also wishes he could just tell you the truth. Maybe then you could understand his position and you wouldn’t be mad at him anymore. But he has to wait.

Jungkook’s head is still banging against the steering wheel when more thoughts of you bombard his mind. His breathing picks up and he starts to sniffle, he doesn’t want to cry but you just…you don’t want anything to do with him. He balls his hands into fists and hit the steering wheel over and over causing the horn to go off a few times but he doesn’t care he’s so upset, he just….

When Jungkook saw you tonight for the first time in 3 months he swears his heart actually stopped. He swears it raced so quickly that it just stopped. He let go of Vanessa’s hand so quickly because he wanted to rush to you and hug you close, he wanted to just feel you. Not having touched your skin for the last 3 months…he doesn’t want to imagine even another day.

A few tears slip past his closed lids, he chuckles darkly as he recalls you and Nick. He thought, wow, the universe is cruel and also hilarious. His fucking roommate? He shakes his head, laughing again but his lips remain downward. He feels so fucking helpless right now. But he deserves this, he deserves to feel this pain. He did this to himself and he’s fully aware of that.

Jungkook thinks of your face, he thinks of your smile, he thinks of your eyes and he cries harder, his tears landing on the steering wheel and sliding down landing on to his lap. Yes, he feels like all hope is lost but he knows he cannot give up. He will win you over again one day. He lifts his head and wipes his tear streaked cheeks with the back of his hand and breathes out steadily.

“y/n…” he whispers to himself. Your name leaves his mouth in frustration. He won’t give up. He can’t.

~~~~

“And they were roommates?!” Jimin shouts, a banana half sticking out of his mouth, Trina gasps and whispers “Oh my god they were roommates.”

“Yeah, it was a total shit show.” You bang your head against your breakfast table. Holly rubs your back as she sits next to you.

“Then what happened?” she pries further.

“Yeah what the hell happened y/n!” Jimin yells out.

“He asked to be friends again…and I totally rejected him. Maybe I was too harsh? He was so sad guys…it makes me think…I might agree to kind of being…friends?”

Jimin shuts his eyes as a frown decorates his face, he places a hand on his hip and he inhales a sharp breath, “Listen…you’re both my friends and of course I want you to be good again…but he hurt you …bad.”

“I know Jiminie, but his reasons…” you bite your lip, “Never mind.”

“Well, I don’t like it.” Trina butts in. “He fucking left you, remember?”

“Yes Trina, I fucking remember—”

“Then fucking act like it!”

“Trina relax,” Holly intervenes. “They have a long history, right? It’s hard to just forget about everything…”

Jimin stands from his chair, hands on both hips. “Fine, if we are doing this…then you better actually try. Don’t half ass shit, if you’re going to be friends then don’t be an asshole to him, don’t make snarky remarks…I know your ass.”

Jimin has a good point, you haven’t actually thought about how you will act.

“I’ll be a good girl.” You raise your right arm to salute him.

“Fucking smart ass.” He rolls his eyes.

“Are we serious right now?” Trina shakes her head, “You moped around for 3 fucking months y/n. You cried every time you even thought of Jungkook…which was a fucking lot.” She points out, “Listen, you stayed strong when you talked to him in the car. Don’t break just because you feel bad for the dude because he’s fucking pitiful. He doesn’t deserve your pity girl. He’s an asshole!”

“Trina, be nice.” Holly says sternly, reaching forward to grab on to Trina’s hand. Trina visibly relaxes and nods her head towards Holly and smiles softly.

You and Jimin share a look. Are they….?

“You…” You slam your eyes shut, Trina’s words ringing loudly in your ears. You know she’s right. “I’ll think about it some more. For now, I gotta get ready for work.”

~~~~

“Doesn’t Hazel look so pretty here?” Adam shoves his phone in your face as he gushes about his girlfriend.

“Yes dude, she’s so pretty.” You deadpan. “Now can you please put the brownies in the oven? We’re low.”

“Wait wait…here’s one of us together at the park.” He nudges his phone in your hands, you roll your eyes but you take it.

The two of them are sitting on a park bench, she’s leaning into his frame and they both have wide smiles on their faces. They seem so in love. And you know they are because fucking Adam reminds you every 20 seconds.

“Their love makes me sick.” Jade walks over, her hands patting down on her work apron, her tone is bland but she still tries to smile. “Like, we get it.”

“Who loves who more?” you begin with a toothy grin, “Adam to Hazel or Lenny to the sugar cookies?” you laugh while pointing at said Lenny stuffing his face with the reject cookies. Jade and Adam chuckle while they stare at him.

“Hey guys, really?” Lenny says with his mouth full. “You know I feel bad when we throw them away.” He pouts, crumbs decorating his lips.

“Lenny I catch you eating fresh ones all the time!” Adam points out.

“Sometimes they’re a little ugly…” Lenny reasons, “So I…”

“You don’t have to explain my guy, you just really love your cookies.” You hand Adam back his phone as you head towards the walk in freezer to take out the brownies yourself. You load up a tray and stick those suckers in the oven.

“You’re useless Adam.” Jade sticks a piece of gum in her mouth and chews obnoxiously “U-s-e-l-e-s-s. Useless.”

“You’re always so mean to me Jade what did I ever do to you?”

All 4 of you shoot your heads up when you hear the bell go off on the door of the bakery, its loud chime signaling the arrival of a customer.

“Oh.” Jade says while popping a bubble. “It’s your usual customer y/n.”

You tilt your head towards the front of the store to get a look at who she is talking about, and yup its him. Your most consistent customer who orders the same damn thing every single day. 2 oatmeal raisin cookies and that’s it.

“Can someone else just take care of him today?” you whine, “I’m not in the mood to argue.”

“You know he’s just going to ask for you…” Lenny says stuffing his face with another cookie.

“God damn it.” You huff out, you grab two gloves from the box on the counter and begin walking towards the front of the store.

You reach the front counter and take in your enemy—you mean, your customer.

“And what do I owe the pleasure Mister Oatmeal Raisin?” you raise a brow towards the man. He’s only a few inches taller than you, his hair is a sandy color today and you hate to admit it looks good on him.

“You know you could just call me by name.” the man sways side to side with a smirk on his face.

“I like Mister Oatmeal Raisin.”

He has been coming to this store for the last couple of months and you two…don’t necessarily get along swimmingly. He complains a lot and is a total smart ass. And you? Well, you’re not much better.

“Well, I’ll have my usual.” He smiles, “And you know the drill, please make sure there is a normal amount of raisins and not a million, I don’t want 8 raisins a bite. But one every now and then.”

You roll your eyes extremely dramatically, pressing the buttons on the screen for his order.

“Sir yes sir.” You salute towards him, “How could I not know the drill?”

“That’s the spirit.”

You spin on your heels and head towards the back to heat up his two cookies. You carefully select one cookie with barely any raisins and one cookie with a million, just like he didn’t want. You cackle to yourself as you place them in the baggy, feeling beyond satisfied.

“How haven’t you gotten fired?” Adam crosses his arms over his chest as he watches you, “And how hasn’t he complained about you? You do this every time I don’t get it.”

“He likes her.” Jade says plainly while scrolling through her phone.

“As fucking if!” you scoff, “He wants nothing but to annoy me!” But you can’t help but smile.

“He literally only asks for you every time you’re in.” Lenny reasons, “but you shouldn’t like him back…he likes the worst cookie on the menu. Sugar is where it’s at.”

You laugh at your coworker while walking back up towards the front of the store, reaching the counter.

“Your cookies!” you hand him the baggy with an evil smirk, “I hope you enjoy them.” You wink.

The man opens the baggy and inspects each cookie and with his own evil smirk he winks back at you, “Are we serious right now?” his sly smile doesn’t leave his face as he begins to complain, “You are such a brat.”

“$4 Mister Oatmeal Raisin.”

He hands you the cash, you put it away quickly and with a wide smile you gesture towards the door for him to leave.

“Min Yoongi.” He shakes the bag of cookies in front of him, “Not Mister Oatmeal Raisin.” He turns around and starts walking towards the door but before he exits he tilts his head to look at you one last time, “See you tomorrow…y/n.”

You feel a harsh blush creep up on your cheeks, or your whole face actually. Maybe your whole body. You feel taken aback he knows your name but then you remember you have a god damn name tag.

“Uh…yeah.”

“See you tomorrow…y/n.” all 3 of your coworkers mock in a deep voice.

“Shut up guys!” you whine into your hands, “Can we please just get back to work!”

~~~~~

A few weeks later

The drive to Jimin’s is a quick 7 minutes but you did take a little detour. You decided to stop at the pizzeria that’s on the way and grab a hot pizza for the two of you.

“Hehe.” You look over to the steamy food sitting in the passenger seat.

Jimin has been such a great friend to you all this time and you feel like you’ve never really thanked him…so, tonight you two are going to have a fun night in—he just doesn’t know it yet.

Who doesn’t love being surprised with food?

You pull up to Jimin’s apartment complex and after driving in circles you finally find a parking spot. You grab your purse, your backpack, and the pizza and make your way up to his apartment.

You knock on his front door a few times but get no answer. Maybe he’s not home? No, you definitely hear music coming from the other side…so, you decide to call him.

“Hello?”

“Jimin~ let me in!” you sing into the phone.

“You’re—you’re here?”

“Let me in already!” and with that you hang up and wait patiently outside the door.

A few moments pass before the door is opening up, when Jimin really registers that it’s you he’s kind of closing the door until only his face is shown through the crack.

“Ummm…yes?”

You quirk a brow at the boy, “What do you mean ‘yes?’ let me in!” you begin walking forward when a panicked Jimin opens the door wider to let himself outside and shut the door behind him.

“y/n…why are you here? Did we have plans tonight?” he looks down at the pizza in your hands.

“Not exactly…” you admit, “But I figured we could have a night in.”

Jimin frowns. Fucking frowns!

“Or not?” you say awkwardly.

You hear some sort of banging on the other side of the door and then it clicks.

“Oh? You have someone over?” you smirk.

“Uhhh…no. Nothing like that.” Jimin’s eyes slide to the side as he tries to think of what to say next.

“Babe—”

“Jimin!”

The door is being swung wide open and your eyes travel from some horrendous toes socks to some tight jeans to a striped t shirt to yes, Jungkook’s surprised face.

“Oh.” You both say at the same time.

You and Jungkook stare at one another for a few moments, neither of your eyes leaving the other when Jimin clears his throat.

“Sorry y/n. Jungkook is already over…” he gives you an apologetic smile.

“Is it just you two?” you ask quietly.

“Huh? Uh, yeah.”

You glance down at the pizza and think to yourself. You and Jungkook may not be friends but you can be civil? Yeah, totally! You can definitely be civil! You already bought this fucking pizza so you and Jimin are going to eat it! And you guess, Jungkook too.

“Okay, let me in.” you start shoving your way past Jimin, you watch as his and Jungkook’s eyes go wide.

“Maybe you didn’t hear him, but I am already hanging out with him?” Jungkook sputters out. He awkwardly moves to the side anyway to let you through.

“I can be civil with you Jungkook. Plus, I don’t want this pizza to go to waste. So let’s eat.” You walk through, nudging the pizza box into Jungkook’s hands, he takes it while looking at Jimin with shocked eyes.

Jimin just shrugs and follows you inside.

“Yeah, let’s eat.” He says nonchalantly.

Jungkook is left at the door with the pizza in his hands as he is left completely dumbfounded. He is malfunctioning.

“Jungkook?” you call out over your shoulder, “Hurry up, I’m hungry!”

“Yeah, Jungkook hurry up!” Jimin smirks, he isn’t totally sure what’s going on but he kind of likes it.

“So what were you guys doing before I got here?” you shove an entire slice of pizza down your throat, the sauce getting left behind on your lips.

“I was teaching Jungkook some of my dance moves…we made a bet that he couldn’t learn the entire routine in 3 times…and—”

“Let me guess, he fucking learned it.” You laugh.

Jimin groans, his head thrown back as he begins nodding his head ‘yes.’

“So annoying! What can’t he do!” Jimin throws the pizza crust in the box and Jungkook immediately picks it up and eats it.

“Pshh, I could name a few things.” You point out bitterly. “But we won’t get into that.”

“Yeah, please don’t.” Jimin pleads.

“I’m curious…what is it you think I cant do?” Jungkook quirks a brow at you and your eyes darken in his direction.

“You really want me to?” you take a napkin and wipe your lips, “It’s nothing nice.” You admit.

“Oh then yes, please don’t.” Jungkook is quick to say.

“Yes, please don’t.” Jimin begs again.

The 3 of you are sitting on the living room floor, maybe only 30 minutes or so has passed by and it’s not too awkward. But it’s not necessarily comfortable either. Jimin looks between you and Jungkook constantly, waiting for someone to crack but neither of you really speak to each other. Both of you really only communicating with Jimin.

“So Jimin, are you going to show me another routine?”

“Why? So you can prove you’re the master of everything again? No thanks.”

“Jimin, maybe you can show me a few steps?”

Jimin smiles awkwardly while Jungkook is quick to burst out laughing. You snap your head towards Jungkook and raise your brows at him.

“Why is Jungkook laughing, Jimin?”

“Umm…” Jimin smiles softly, “You aren’t the most…”

Jungkook laughs harder as he watches Jimin trying to explain.

“Aren’t the most…?” You tilt your head towards the boy.

“C’mon y/n don’t make me say it…” Jimin drags out his words in a whine, he plays with his fingers, looking around the room awkwardly.

“Just say it Jimin.” Jungkook chuckles out.

“If you’re trying to say I’m a bad dancer, we all know that’s not true!” you defend once you catch on, you pout at the boys.

“Well…”

“You have both told me I am a good dancer!”

“Well, you know how to move. But steps…following a routine…that’s different. You aren’t very coordinated.” Jimin finally admits, a sheepish grin on his face.

“He means you can roll your hips but your feet are clumsy as fuck.” Jungkook says, still laughing at the situation.

“Shut up.” You glare at Jungkook.

“No, he’s right.” Jimin begins laughing as well, he looks at you and smiles. Well, if Jimin is saying it…maybe it might be true. It’s not like you didn’t kind of know. But still!

“Fine, whatever. Don’t teach me then.”

Suddenly, Jimin’s phone is going off and he rushes to the kitchen to answer it. You and Jungkook eat your pizza in silence, awkwardly catching one another’s gaze.

“So—”

“Don’t talk to me.” You cut in. Jimin isn’t here so it’s not like you have to be totally social with Jungkook.

“Oh.” Jungkook dramatically slumps his shoulders and pouts. You watch him as he throws a silent fit like the baby he is. “Okay.”

Jimin walks back into the living room looking annoyed, he stands between you two and throws a hand on his hip.

“I have to go down to the front office, there was a mix up in packages…I shouldn’t take too long…” he bites down on his plump bottom lip, “Please be civil while I’m gone. Jungkook…” he looks at the boy then at you, “y/n…” he warns.

“Sir yes sir!” you salute towards your friend with a straight face.

Jimin only narrows his eyes as he looks between you two.

“I’m serious…” he says.

Then he is putting on some shoes and heading out the front door, the soft click making you shudder. You’re alone with Jungkook.

A few minutes pass and you both awkwardly just sit there, sometimes catching the other looking. You finally huff out and accidentally giggle.

“What’s funny?” Jungkook’s curiosity getting the best of him.

“It’s just…I feel like we’re Jimin’s divorced parents and we’re trying to be civil for our child.”

Jungkook stares at you with scrunched brows, then looks away while a chuckle escapes his lips.

“Yeah. You’re right.”

You only nod your head in response. You two go back to the awkward silence.

You aren’t used to this…this awkward and odd silence that lingers between you two. It feels so fucking suffocating you almost wish you were on total talking terms so you didn’t have to endure this shit show.

“You know I could…no, forget it.” Jungkook bites his nails as he speaks, “I…”

“What?” you don’t mean to snap at him, but somehow even talking with an attitude feels better than not talking at all.

“I was going to say…I could teach you some steps…then you could surprise Jimin. He’s been working on a salsa piece…I can teach you some? Then maybe he will stop talking shit on your dancing.” Jungkook laughs awkwardly.

“Wait—he talks shit?!” somehow this doesn’t surprise you in the least.

“Only a little.” Jungkook shows you how little with his pointer finger and thumb. “But uh, want me to show you?”

“I don’t even want to talk to you, you think I want to dance with you?” you raise a brow in amusement. You forget this boy has all the audacity.

“Dancing doesn’t have to have any talking.” Jungkook states with a sly smile.

“So you’re just going to show me the steps?”

“Precisely.”

You don’t know why, but this sounds better than actually speaking and/or just sitting in miserable silence. And maybe, just maybe you have a desire to be close to him.

“You think I could learn in time before Jimin gets back?”

“With me as your teacher? Definitely.” He fucking smirks at you and you can’t help but feel that feeling in your stomach. Not necessarily a bad feeling but a fucking feeling.

Jungkook stands to his feet and extends his hand out to you for you to take.

“Here, stand up.”

Your eyes travel from his hands to his eyes and you blink lazily at him…wait, you’re really doing this? He stares down at you and he smiles softly and it creates a warmth in your chest that you’re trying so hard to ignore. You can’t.

Even so, you hesitantly begin to reach up to grab on to his hand, once your skin touches his you feel it. The burning. You should be used to it but right now, the fire is raging and the heat is almost too much. But you let him close his hand over yours as he helps you up.

You’re now standing in front of one another, in complete silence again. But this time it’s not awkward—no, it’s a different type of tension. Your hand lingers in his, neither of you brave enough to let go of the other. Jungkook looks down at you and you up at him, and you feel a million things. But the number one thing you feel is pain. You slowly pull your hand back and break eye contact with him, your head dropping low.

“Show me already.” You whisper.

“Shh, no talking.” Jungkook quietly demands. “Only speak with your body.” He puts some music on the speakers and smirks at you.

Jungkook steps closer to you and you stay grounded in your spot, you can feel the heat of his body begin to radiate and warm you. One of his hands find yours, he weaves his fingers through your own and puts one hand on your hip, he looks down at you to warn you this is how he will guide you.

“Just follow me.”

“You said no talking Mr.Jeon.” you say almost under your breath as you stare into his eyes. Jungkook rolls his head back with a smirk on his face, he looks at you and nods.

He puts his left foot forward and steps with his right foot in the same place at center, then puts his left foot back again. You try to copy his moves but even with such simple steps you step on his feet. He looks up at you disapprovingly. You only smile at him.

You two continue to try these steps until you finally manage to understand them even just a little bit. Jungkook brings your body closer to his as you two move your hips to the music while following the simple steps. His chest flush against your own, his heart beating so loudly you can feel it. Your heart isn’t any better. You start to finally get the hang of it, the music slowly taking you to another place. Jungkook moves his hips to the beat so flawlessly and honestly? You’re doing pretty fucking good if you do say so yourself.

Jungkook’s grip on your hip tightens as he grinds himself closer to you, you feel lightheaded as you two dance to the song. Your breathing getting just a little heavier and you feel lost and pathetic but you’re too immersed in the dance to care. Jungkook finds his head falling into the crook of your neck, his hot breaths fanning against your sensitive skin and you find your hand skimming up his back until you have a handful of his hair. You lightly tug on his locks and Jungkook quietly groans. You don’t know if you’re even doing the right steps anymore, your feet moving all around the place, but somehow it’s working. You’re still following his lead and you’re sure the dance looks somewhat okay. All you care about is how both of your hips move to the beat of the music and into each other. You two are so in sync its driving you nuts.

Jungkook lifts his head and watches as you close your eyes and he closes his own eyes, his head falling forward, your foreheads close to touching. You feel so dizzy, so light and airy, so fucking great like you’re floating. You can’t help but feel the heat creep up your entire body, you feel sweat start to build as you two move. You tighten your hands around Jungkook’s neck and pull him down impossibly close, until his forehead is touching yours. Your harsh breaths mingling with his. You get dragged into the memory of when he had you pinned to his dorms mattress, you recall how his lips left kisses all along your throat, his hot breath reminding you of the past. You think of how he rolled his hips into you effortlessly then as well, you think of how you scraped your nails down his back as he thrusted into you. God, you need to think of something else but Jungkook is filling your mind.

Jungkook’s breathing picks up again, as does yours. Your memories making this dance that much more sensual. You remember the way Jungkook nibbled on your ear as he let filthy words spill from his mouth when he fucked you. God, you should not be thinking this but his body feels so good. God, you should think of anything…literally anything else. You remember how he held you close much like how he is right now. You two continue dancing to the song that is soon coming to an end. You know exactly how it feels to have Jungkook inside you, moving and stilling. You know exactly what it feels like to come all around his cock. God, you need to stop. You need to slow your breathing. God, you…you…you...he continues to guide you along to the music when you feel something hard poke against you. Oh. Oh. OH. Hard. He’s hard.

Immediately, you pull back and take several clumsy steps backward. You blink at him with wide eyes when you realize that maybe he was recalling the same memories as you. Your wide eyes concerning Jungkook.

“Okay, that’s enough lessons for today.” Your harsh breaths don’t go unnoticed by Jungkook, his own breathing quite unsteady.

“Right.” Jungkook mumbles.

You two stand around for a few moments, just taking in the experience you just shared.

You still feel…how do you feel? You just shared a hot dance with your best friend? Wait—ex best friend? You don’t know. The memory of his body moving with yours, his skin touching your skin, his breaths on your neck, his hair balled up in your hands. God, it felt so good.

But so wrong.

“Umm…thanks.” You finally say.

Jungkook perks up at the gratitude, even if it’s somewhat forced. His frown turns into a small smile and you can’t help but smile back.

“I miss you y/n.” Jungkook instantly regrets it by the look on your face. Your expression turning hard. “Sorry I—”

“No, I miss you too.” You answer honestly. “But this doesn’t change anything.”

“But why not? Do you really not want me in your life for like, ever?”

Jungkook’s questions settle deep within you. The depth they hold…it’s too much. You wonder? Is this anti-Jungkook thing permanent? Or are you just trying to teach him a lesson?

Jungkook rubs his temples as he thinks, he sighs out instead of talking more.

“Not forever.” You finally say. Jungkook looks at you, a sliver of hope flashes across his face.

“But when?” he asks softly.

Yeah y/n. When? You know you both can’t go back to how things use to be but maybe starting over? God, you don’t know what to do! You know someone like Trina will be disappointed you became friends with Jungkook again so quickly, but you know someone like Jimin would be happy his two friends are back to being on okay terms. Why are you trying to please everybody? What do you want?

“Will you ever give up?” you say a little more lightly.

“No…” he says under his breath, his eyes focusing on the TV. “Not until you agree to be my friend again.”

You look at Jungkook with disbelief written all over your face, this boy has the fucking audacity once again. You’re amused though.

“Excuse me?” you say, cleaning your ear out with your point finger. “I didn’t catch that.”

Jungkook looks into your eyes, his eyes are large and doe like and it brings you back to every moment ever that he has given you this look.

“You’re stuck with me until you love me again.” He says more firmly.

“Who said,” you look at him with soft eyes, “That I ever stopped loving you?”

Jungkook smiles, he fucking smiles. His adorable bunny smile that makes your heart race.

“You still love me?”

“Only a little.” You jut your lip out, “I mostly hate you.”

Jungkook only frowns for a second before he is smiling again, “That’s fair.”

The two of you stand in comfortable silence for a few minutes, you sway back and forth wondering what you want to say to him—you miss him, of course but…

“Let’s take it slow.” You finally break the silence. You miss him more than anything and it might be worth it to have him in your life again, “You aren’t going to be a priority in my life anymore.” You crack you knuckles, the sound filling up the room.

“I know,” Jungkook feels his heart twist at your words but at least it’s something. “We can go however slow you want y/n.”

“You are on—”

“Thin fucking ice, buddy. I know.”

You exhale a shaky breath, thinking about how to go about this, “We can text every now and then, I’m not sure I want to hang out with you quite yet.”

“Okay.”

“Maybe a group hang out first…”

“I’d like that.”

Jungkook reaches over to grab your hand but you pull back, “That’s a no from me for the affection.”

Hurt flashes across Jungkook’s features but he softens up as he nods his head. “Noted.”

You wonder if you’re making the right decision. This wasn’t easy, you know? This actually felt quite hard. But somehow you feel like some weight has been lifted off your shoulders, like things maybe just maybe will be okay.

“I won’t push myself on you, I promise.” Jungkook sits back down on the floor, crossing his legs.

“Just be yourself, Jungkook.”

“If I wanted to be myself I would be hugging you right now but that’s apparently off limits.” He jokes.

“One hug.” You open your arms timidly. You feel one hug can’t be too bad?

Jungkook widens his eyes in pleasant surprise. He stands to his feet again and opens his own arms.

“C’mere.”

You watch in disbelief as he grins with his arms wide open, expecting you to go to him! And you do. You fucking do.

His arms wrap around you, he pushes you into his chest and you feel so fucking good. So warm, so cozy. His scent making you feel dizzy again, his warmth causing you to heat up. You lean back and look at his content face, he honestly looks so fucking content. Like, this hug is everything to him. And maybe it is, but you don’t know that.

“Uh, am I interrupting something?” you both snap your heads toward the front door to see Jimin standing there with a package in his hands.

“I can come back later?” he smirks at you two.

“No no no no!” you drop your arms from hugging Jungkook and take a few steps back, “We were just—”

“We made up, Jimin.” Jungkook says calmly with the softest smile you’ve ever seen on him.

“We’re taking it slow!” you rush to say.

“Oh?” Jimin winks, he walks forward until he’s in the living room joining you two. “Does this mean you will be joining us this Thursday at Jungkook and Nick’s place?”

“Huh?”

Jungkook shifts on his feet, “Yeah, uh, me and Nick are having a small get together on Thursday…you can bring whoever you want…but you’re definitely invited.”

“Before I answer that…Jimin how did you not know about Nick and him being Jungkook’s roommate?”

“Listen! Jungkook is always HERE! I never go over there! The few times I was there Nick was never home okay?!” Jimin whines obnoxiously.

“Okay, whatever. And Jungkook, I said—”

“You said group hang outs.” Jungkook pouts.

Oh. You did say that. But this soon? And is she going to be there?

You chew on your lips before answering, “Okay. But I’m bringing Trina and Holly.”

“Oh bro, Trina is not your biggest fan.” Jimin cuts in.

“Yeah, I know how she is I already anticipated that.” Jungkook shrugs, he looks at you with a small smile.

Okay, starting over? Taking it slow? Can you and Jungkook do this? You look between the boys and smile,

“Okay. See you boys on Thursday.”