#this was meant to be cute how’d it turn into angst??? | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

babyonboard · 2 years ago

Text

just hooking up. | jake ‘hangman’ seresin x f!reader

Summary: as a nurse for navy pilots at top gun, hooking up with one of your patients seems unprofessional. but for jake seresin, you’ll make an exception.

Word Count: 6,080

Warnings: mentions of, and a small amount of smut (minors dni), a little angst, slow(ish) burn, mentions of blood, intense medical scenarios.

I am not a nurse and I may get some shit wrong about hospitals. Also, I had to tweak some things about top gun to make this story work. Deal with it :)

It had just been a boring day in the office. Sitting silently in your room, you cleaned the medical table, the bed, and even got some organizing done for your cabinets. Humming a non-existent song, you were interrupted by the phone that sat outside of your door ringing. Swinging the door open, you answered.

The phone ringing usually meant one thing. Something had gone wrong in the field, and someone was on their way to you to get checked out. You hadn’t met anyone in the new pilot class yet, you had only seen a few of them coming in to get their physicals with the Doctor. Other than that, these new people were complete strangers to you. The thing about Top Gun was that usually, the problems were either very minor, in which you would receive a phone call that a pilot was on their way to you, or the problems were extremely major. You had only experienced one major problem, a couple years ago during your first year as a nurse at Top Gun. You didn’t like to think about it.

“Hello, medical ward.” You greeted, holding the old phone to your ear. Wrapping the cord around your finger, you mentally noted that, even though the hospital was tiny, you really needed a new phone.

“Hey, this is Captain Mitchel, I’ve got a pilot headed your way. We were fixing up his jet and a piece fell on him, he's got a pretty good gash on his arm.” He said. You could hear the muffled voices of other pilots laughing around him, making you almost sigh in relief at how small this problem seemed to be.

“Thank you Captain. We’ll take good care of him.”

“You’re the best.” You could practically hear him winking through the phone.

Seconds later, you heard the door in the lobby burst open, and two boys talking. You walked through the double doors towards them, and they both stopped talking to look at you. Fuck you thought. They were both cute.

“Hi gentlemen.” You smiled, suddenly self conscious about your decision to wear red lipstick this morning.

“Well what do we have here.” One of them said “I’ve never had a cute nurse before, I thought that those were a myth.” He smiled. You rolled your eyes and noticed the blood slowly running down his arm.

“Mav said he was gonna call you, but Hangman cut the shit out of his arm.” The other one said said, You noticed the dirty, oil stained towel they were holding to his wound on his bicep. Nice.

“I heard.” You said, stepping closer to them. Setting your hand lightly on the blonde's shoulder, you said, “Let's get you checked out.” You turned to the boy who had come with him. “Thank you Lieutenant, I'll take it from here.” He gave you a head nod and turned to walk out.

“Follow me.” You said. “Hangman, is it?”

“Yes ma’am. And you are?” He still had a paper white smile on his face. Unexplainably happy for someone with blood dripping from them.

“Y/N.” You stated.

“I like that name.” He said simply. You stopped in front of the door to your office and opened the door.

“Thank you.” you said as he walked inside. You walked in and patted the bed twice.

He got on the bed, his eyes never leaving you. He stared at your face, your red lips, and your figure. He started wishing he had cut his arm much sooner than today.

“So, how’d this happen?” You asked, turned around at the counter, wetting a new clean towel with sanitizer.

“I was fixing my jet. I scraped my wing on the side of a mountain and when I was replacing it, one of the pieces that got scraped came off and, well, this happened.” He explained. He seemed very nonchalant.

“Alright, well I’ll see what I can do, Lt.” You said, turning around. He still wore that award winning smile on his face.

“You can lay back.” You mentioned, lowering the back of his bed so he could lay down.

“You don’t have to tell me twice.” He smirked. Classy.

The cut was on the underside of his bicep, sort of near his armpit. You lightly grabbed his elbow, moving his arm so it was by his head. You could hear him breathing, and you could see his eyes on your face out of the corner of your eye, and you could see the seemingly never ending smirk that rested on his lips.

You took off the towel they had used, and you saw the gash for yourself. “Jesus” you breathed. “Stitches for sure.” You muttered under your breath. He shrugged.

“How are stitches a shrugging matter?” You laughed, placing your new towel over his wound.

“Used to it.” He shrugged again.

Sighing, you continued to disinfect his cut. He never winced or tensed, sometimes he even laughed, which you thought was strange. At some point, he changed his position from holding his arm up by his head to putting his hands on the back of his head, leaving him in a seemingly relaxed position. Again, strange. As you worked on him, you couldn't help but admire his muscles. They were extremely defined, especially in the position he was holding his arm.

“You know, gorgeous,” He started.

“Y/N” You interjected quickly.

“Same thing.” He quipped. “I think I might need to start getting hurt more often.”

And that’s exactly what he did.

Over the next several weeks, he had come in for a number of reasons. Which, not that you minded. It added something interesting to your day. Also, you liked seeing him. He was cute.

He came in for any reason you could think of. A “sprained ankle” that he needed ice for, but he couldn’t put the ice on it himself because he was “really sore” so you had to sit at the end of the bed, holding it on his ankle. He came in for a headache, a stomachache, a “sore hand”, and he even came in for a paper cut.

You noticed that each morning, you spent a little bit more time on your makeup in hopes you would see Hangman that day. You noticed that whenever the phone rang or whenever you got a knock on your door, your heart would skip a beat. This was a problem. You knew that Top Gun pilots come and go. The class only lasts upwards of 6 months. It had already been almost 2. You had no idea where he would go after this, and you didn’t want to fall for someone you might never see again.

One particularly early morning, your coffee still hot, you heard a knock on your door. Standing up, you adjusted your hair subconsciously. You opened the door to Hangman leaning on the door frame, giving you a puppy dog face.

You sighed with a smile. “What is it today, Hangman?”

“Good morning to you too, princess. And what did I say about calling me Hangman?” He half scolded with a smirk on his face. Uninvited, he makes his way into your office and sits down in his usual place on the bed.

“Right” you shut your eyes “Jake, sorry.”

“I forgive you.” He smiled his signature smile. “Is that a new necklace?”

Instinctively, you touched your neck. It was a new necklace. “Yeah, it is.”

“I like it. Pretty necklace on a pretty neck.”

The color of your face had to have changed in a second. “So… what is it?” You asked, sitting on your stool, changing the topic so you didn’t have to blush any longer.

“Well,” he started, bringing his hand in front of his face. “I have a hangnail.”

You put your face in your hands. “You have to be kidding me.”

“I know, it’s very tragic, I’m not kidding you.”

Defeated, you lifted your head. Wheeling your stool towards him, you said “Let me see it.”

He looked at his pinky. He studied it for a second then met your eyes. “I think it fell off.”

You stared at him. He stared right back. It was silent for a moment while the two of you tried not to laugh. He broke first, a smile pulling at the corner of his lips. It made you push away your own smile, and you had to look away, and before long, you both were laughing.

As the laughing died down, he took a deep breath to compose himself. “Okay, okay, the real reason I came in was for something else.”

“Really? I never would’ve guessed.”

“Well, me and my friends usually go to this bar across the street on Fridays, and I want you to come with me tonight.” He said.

You sighed. Bars. Not exactly your thing. “I don’t know Jake…”

“Come on, goody two shoes, it wouldn’t kill you to have fun.” He reached over and put his hands on your shoulders. Unintentionally, his grip was tight. He had huge hands.

“I am not a goody two shoes.” You crossed your arms, your shoulders adjusting under his large palms.

“Sure.” He scoffed. “Come with me, princess. Please?”

It’s nicknames like those that get you into difficult situations. Nicknames that you can’t say no to. And now, your difficult situation was that you were standing next to Jake in a bar, surrounded by his loud, sweaty friends. More and more just kept appearing.

“And who’s this?” A girl asked, giving you a sweet smile.

“This is Y/N. She’s my… well, she’s a nurse over at the medical ward.”

You quirked an eyebrow at where that sentence was heading, but you didn’t have enough time to question him about it, because that girl immediately dragged you to play darts with her.

You learned that her name was Phoenix. You sucked at darts, but she didn’t seem to care either way.

“So, you’re the girl hangman’s always talking about, huh?” She said, keeping her eyes on the board.

Butterflies erupted in your stomach at the thought. Sure, you talked about him non stop to your friends, but imagining him talking about you almost made your heart burst.

“He talks about me?” You looked across the bar at him, his eyes already on you. He held a pool stick, and he offered you a head nod and a wink. You smiled in return.

“Hell yes he does. He runs out of class like it’s a race and is always talking about how he’s going to see his “sexy-nurse-dream-come-to-life.”

You laughed. You knew what he thought about you, he’s not afraid to say it, but hearing it from someone else felt different. It felt more real.

Phoenix got bored with darts and she led you over to the bar. You half-pretended to not see Hangman’s eyes on you at all times. Without asking, Phoenix ordered two shots.

“Shots? Phoenix I’m not the best at-“

“Shots without me?” You heard Jake's voice over your shoulder. After hearing his voice, you felt his hand on the small of your back. His pinky touched the rim of your skirt. You had to close your eyes and take a deep breath in order to not lose your cool. His touch felt so good.

You stuttered to try and make a sentence, your whole focus on his hand on your back. “I was just saying I don’t know if I can do that. I haven’t done a shot in… well in a long time.”

“You’ll be fine.” Phoenix smiled and turned back to the bartender, speaking to her as she poured the clear liquid into two shot glasses.

Suddenly, Jakes grip got tighter, and moved to the side of your hip. It wasn’t set on your hip, he was grabbing it. “I like this skirt.” He spoke slowly in your ear.

You gulped. You wanted to make a snarky comment back at him, but you didn’t think your brain could form words right now. Phoenix turned around with your shot, handing it to you.

You grabbed it and turned to look at Jake. “I seriously don’t know if I can take this. What if I like, throw up.”

“You won’t.” He smiled. He grabbed it from your hand. “Let me help, okay?”

You nodded. His huge hand came up to the side of your jaw and cupped it. His fingers on the back of your head, he tilted your head back. His thumb moved across your cheek, and painfully slow, it made its way over your lips, coming to rest on your bottom lip. He tugged it lightly. “Open.” He spoke. Without thinking, you opened your mouth. His jaw clenched, he pulled at your hair the smallest amount to tilt your head even further back. You had subconsciously brought your hands to hold on to both of his elbows, completely trusting yourself with him. Your eyes were glued to each other, the eye contact never broke. A grip that had started out light was now intense. He brought the cool shot glass to your lips pouring it into your mouth with no warning. Keeping your eyes on his, you swallowed.

“Good.” He mumbled. You didn’t really wince or make a grossed out face, your entire mind thinking about his hands on you. His thumb came back to your lips to wipe them clean of any vodka. You couldn’t tell if it was the shot or his touch that made your knees wobbly. All at once, he let go of you and smiled, suddenly in a joking mood again. “See?” He laughed, “that wasn’t so hard.”

You had no idea where Phoenix went, but she had left you and Jake at the bar together. You blinked, standing completely still, your mind lagging while trying to process what just happened. Heart racing, you chose to ignore what was going on between your legs right now.

“This is a random question, do you wanna get out of here?”

The walk back to Hangman’s apartment was excruciating. It was a hot July night, your hair sticking to your neck and shoulders as you walked. It was a short walk, but it felt like it was taking forever. The conversation on the way back was normal. The two of you were back to playful banter, which made you question if he felt the same way about what had just happened at the bar. Is it normal for him to do that to girls?

Stepping through Jake's door, you put your arms out to feel the cool air conditioning. “Oh, my god.” You groaned as he shut the door behind him. “It was so fucking hot in that bar, I thought-“

Jake's lips were on yours. His hands on either side of your face, his lips were practically squished against yours. Shocked, your body completely froze for a second. You dropped your arms at your sides, and let your brain catch up to what was happening. His lips were searing hot, yet his hands were cool on either side of your face. Your legs almost gave out on you, and he must have noticed, because he moved to wrap his arms completely around your waist, pressing your stomach against his abs. Your body catching up to your brain (or vice versa) you brought your hands to his broad shoulders. You fought back a shudder as he bit your bottom lip lightly, but you couldn’t hold back the small moan you let out.

That must have flipped a switch for him, his hands moved down over the curve of your ass, landing on the back of your thighs. He pulled them up, picking you up completely. You wrapped your legs around his torso, and you could feel him walking somewhere. He stopped at some point to mess with the light switch, turning it on as he held you up with one arm.

He dropped you lightly on your back onto his bed, his hands were on either side of your head, propping himself up. For a second, he gave you a sweet smile. You giggled lightly, a “is this really happening?” giggle.

“Have I ever told you how gorgeous you are?” He nearly whispered above you, his eyes scanned all over your face.

“I think you’ve mentioned it a few times.” You smiled.

Hooking up. That’s what it was. Friends with benefits. Well, friends who flirt and are obsessed with each other with benefits.

You really liked hooking up with Jake. You liked waking up in his bed, you liked how he would just come and see you at work now, no medical excuse at all. You liked the way he looked above you, and below you, for that matter. You liked holding onto his hair while he goes down on you, and you liked the way his hand felt around your neck. You like how fucked out and flushed he looked when you were done, and you liked how sometimes, he would kiss your forehead at the end. You liked that he started keeping a toothbrush for you in his bathroom, and you liked how safe you felt in his arms. And, you liked him.

The situation was sticky. You have heard multiple murmurs from his fellow pilots how you were his “girl of the month”. You knew his reputation, and you didn’t even wanna know how many girls have gotten this same treatment before you. The way Jake felt about you was playful. It was sexual, flirty, and fun. And for you, it was the same way. But recently, you felt like your connection to him was a little deeper. You had real feelings for him. You felt stupid that sometimes you would let yourself think that he felt that same way about you. But sometimes, the way he looked at you was not the way that “friends with benefits” look at each other.

One day in particular, he had you underneath him after a really long day of classes. He hadn’t been able to see you for a few days prior, practices on the field ramping up more and more. You’d think that after a frustrating day, he would be rough with you, but he wasn’t. He stroked your cheek lightly, his forehead pressed against yours and the tip of his nose touching yours. You could tell he was getting close by how sloppy his thrusts got.

“Fuck.” He gritted his teeth. “You are, fuck, Y/N, you’re so beautiful.”

You said nothing, you just looked at him with complete and total heart eyes. Your heart fluttered and you thought that if he didn’t have real feelings for you, he wouldn’t have said that. When he finished, he rolled off of you. You hoped for a kiss on the forehead, but unfortunately, not today.

He didn’t take a moment to catch his breath, or hold you, he got straight out of the bed. You visibly frowned.

He stretched and picked up his shorts off of the ground. “Fuck, my head hurts.” He mumbled as he walked out of the room and into the kitchen. You laid there, naked in his bed. You suddenly felt over-exposed, so you pulled the covers over you. Your mind raced. Why did Jake Seresin have to be such an emotional roller coaster? Now, seconds after being sure he had feelings for you, you were almost positive he didn’t. You wished that, just once, he would hold you after he was done. You heard a pill bottle shake from in the kitchen, and you contemplated leaving. You didn’t want to be annoying. Pulling your shorts up, you found your sweatshirt on the ground and pulled it over your body.

He stood shirtless in the kitchen, holding a glass of water. “You sleepin here tonight?” He asked

As badly as you didn’t want to seem clingy or needy, or reveal your feelings for him at all, you really did want to spend the night. You couldn’t tell if he was asking because he wanted you to, or if he wanted to know if he was getting rid of you. “I can.” You answered simply.

“We could watch a movie?” He smiled smally. Fuck, he was so cute. If he asked you to marry him right now, you would say yes.

Your heart lifted. He did want you to stay. After all, you were forgetting that you and Jake were practically best friends. He liked being around you. “Okay.” You smiled.

He was confusing. One second, he was telling you how beautiful you were while he finished inside of you. Next, he won’t even look at you when he’s done. Then, he wants you to spend the night.

Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin had spent a good part of his life hooking up with girls. Usually, it was a bartender, or a sorority girl, or a girl he met in flight school. He had partaken in numerous friends with benefits agreements, had many ongoing hookups, and plenty of one night stands. He will admit, he has never met a girl like you before. A literal ray of sunshine, a beautiful girl with a beautiful heart. It kind of scared him. As terrible as it sounds, a lot of his hookups had been passing time, where he sees the girls only purpose as getting him off. Then he met you. He spent his time on you, making sure you were, well, real. He thought you were too good to be true. He didn’t really know how to go about it.

So, I guess he would say it started as meaningful hook up’s with you. He didn’t see you as someone who could get him off. The problem was Jake didn’t know how to do relationships. He knew hookups and one night stands. He didn’t know what crossed the line into relationships and how to tell if you wanted to be with him. As time went on, he had to remind himself that you weren’t in a relationship. You were hooking up. He had to remind himself that whenever you kissed him and he wanted to pick you up and spin you around. He had to remind himself when he found himself caressing your face, your eyes locked in his. He really had to remind himself whenever he saw you. Just. Hooking. Up.

He had to remind himself that night, while you were curled up under a blanket on his couch. He wanted to put his arm around you, but he didn’t know how. For about the first time in his life, he felt awkward in front of a girl.

He usually would know the perfect move to make, but that would be in a sexual, flirty situation. Now, he wanted nothing more than cheesy romance. He started out with his arm over the back of the couch, then he let his fingers touch your hair. He wanted to take this slow, he wanted to make sure you knew his touch wasn’t sexual, he just wanted to cuddle with you.

“You can lay back if you want.” He blurted out. Mentally scolding himself, he held his breath. So much for taking it slow, Jake.

You turned around and looked at him. He had to be horny or something. If he didn’t have feelings for you, would he really be asking you to cuddle with him right now? His back against the arm rest, he waited for your response. He was relieved when he saw that small, familiar smile on your lips.

You obviously weren’t going to pass up this opportunity. “Okay.“ you replied softly. You slowly leaned into him, resting your back on his abs, the back of your head on his chest. He adjusted his arms around you, bringing a hand up to touch your hair.

You couldn’t see each other’s faces, but you were both smiling.

It was nice to be touched by Jake, not because he wanted to fuck you, but just because he wanted to touch you. His hand lightly stroked your hair as the movie played, but neither of you paid any mind to it.

The two of you sat in silence in this position, and after a while, you turned over onto your stomach, wrapping your arms around his torso and laying your cheek onto his chest. His heart swelled.

In a quiet, sleepy, middle of the night haze, your eyes fluttered open. A second passed and you weren’t exactly sure where you were or what was going on. Becoming aware, you opened your eyes fully, and you realized that Jake was carrying you. He was cradling you like a baby, almost tip toeing so that you didn’t wake up. You must’ve fallen asleep on the couch. You felt him gently lay you down on the bed and pull the covers up over you. His lips touched your forehead softly, then he climbed in on the other side of the bed. Climbing under the covers, he wrapped you up in his arms. You nuzzled your face into his neck and sighed.

It must have been because you were tired, or just because you were overwhelmed with the feeling, but without thinking, you opened your mouth to whisper “I love you, Jake.” The words never made it past your throat, your mouth stuck open like you were about to start a sentence. Part of you thought you should just say it, but the rest of you thought you were so stupid to think you could tell the boy you were hooking up with that you loved him just because he was cuddling with you.

That morning, you woke up early with Jake. He had to be up at around 6 to go to classes, and the absence of his arms around you had caused you to wake up.

“You could call in sick?” You crossed your arms at the edge of the bed.

He was changing at his dresser and he laughed at you. “You know, you’re cute when you’re grumpy.”

You frowned. He looked to you to see if you liked his joke, and he sighed. “Y/N, you have work today too.” He came to sit by you on the bed. “You can sleep here until you have to go in, and maybe I’ll come visit you today.”

In a silent agreement, you rested your head on his shoulder. He patted you back then stood up. Ouch.

You hoped that he would kiss you before you left, but he didn’t. He rushed out the door, leaving you with a mere “maybe we can chill tonight.”

When he was out the door, you slammed your back against the bed with a groan. He cuddles with you all night, then doesn’t want anything to do with you the next day.

‘Just hooking up’ Jake repeated in his head as he walked out of his apartment, leaving a bed headed, incredibly cute you lying on his bed. ‘Just hooking up. Just hooking up. Just hooking up. Just hooking up.’

It was almost time for you to leave the office, and Jake hadn’t come to visit yet. You couldn’t stop checking your phone, waiting for a “Come to my apartment after work ;)” text. You started to believe it wasn’t going to come.

Your moping was interrupted by the sound of the small radio on your belt beeping. Confused, you looked down. The radio was for emergencies. It must be a test.

You picked it up and held it to your ear. “We’ve got two pilots that need search and rescue. There was some sort of collision. Both ejected. We’ve got Bradley Bradshaw and Jake Seresin. Pull their files and be ready for treatment. EMTs, rooftop helicopter in 2 minutes.”

You stood there, frozen. Your mind couldn’t even process the words, and your feet took off out of mere instinct. You wouldn’t even let yourself think of the possible outcomes of this situation, and yet, there was only one thing on your mind as you climbed the steps to the roof:

Jake.

You made it to the roof where the rescue helicopter was. You weren’t an EMT, and you certainly weren’t search and rescue, so you knew they wouldn’t let you come. You technically should be getting ready for two pilots who will need medical attention in about 5 minutes.

Not even sure what you were doing, you ran up to the helicopter where the EMTs were loading on. “Let me on!” You yelled over the roaring helicopter.

Most of them didn’t even pay attention to you, but one of them looked at you. “Y/N? You’re a floor nurse?”

“I know, please let me on.” You nearly whispered. Hopeless, you felt tears in your eyes. You thought for a second about fighting your way on, but then you thought about how this hospital only had a handful of other nurses and doctors, and if you really wanted to help, you should be getting ready right now.

You took a deep breath and wiped your eyes. Pull. Yourself. Together. Put the stupid fucking hookups aside and do your fucking job.

Not having time to be embarrassed by the looks the EMTs were giving you, you ran back inside. Everyone was already bustling around, grabbing files, supplies, moving beds, and clearing rooms. You didn’t have a ton of time to get ready for whatever you were about to see, but you had enough.

A beeping sound came from your monitors, which meant that the EMTs had made it to the site. Everyone listened to hear the severity. You closed your eyes, dreading what you could possibly hear. “Both responsive.”

You seriously could have cried in relief.

The buzzing noise on the intercom meant that the patients were in the building. Half of you hoped you would be one of the nurses to help Jake, but the other half thought maybe it would be best if you weren’t. It was kind of a gamble on which patient you would get, it just depended on what room the EMTs were closest to and which patient made it in the building first.

When Jake was wheeled in through your door, his face bloody and his shirt tore open to reveal a dirtied up chest, your breath hitched in your throat. Do your job Y/N, forget about who he is and do your job.

The doctor started barking orders at you and the other nurse in the room. “Scissors for his shirt.” He directed the other nurse. “Y/N, hook up his vitals.”

Cautiously, you stepped up to his bed. Holy fuck. You couldn’t tell where the blood on his face was coming from, it looked like his head. His eyes were drooping closed, and his chest was heaving. You picked up the IV and touched his arm lightly. His eyes shot open.

“Y/N” he cried. His hands were shaking.

You swallowed the lump in your throat and blinked your tears away. “It’s okay, Jake. You’re okay.”

“Y/N” he croaked again. Tears mixed with the blood under his eyes. His lips quivered and his chest heaved even harder.

You couldn’t even respond as you slipped the IV into his arm.

“Jake?” The doctor said “I need you to tell me what’s hurting you.”

“My head.” He cried “Fuck, it’s my head.”

You heard the doctor say something about an MRI to someone in the hallway. The doctor was examining his head as you wrapped a blood pressure cuff around his arm.

“All set for MRI.” A tech popped their head into the room.

You turned back to Jake, who was looking at you. “They’re taking you for an MRI, Jake. It won’t take long, I promise.”

“No, please.” He shut his eyes.

“It won’t be bad Jake, it’s okay.”

“Come with me.” He said, reaching for your hand.

“I can’t. I’ll be here when you get back.” A technician came in to take him away.

“I’m sorry.” He cried. They started to wheel him out of the room. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I love you.”

You swallowed. “I love you too.”

They took him out of the room and you stood there, heart pounding. Honestly, you didn’t spend too much time thinking about how he said that he loved you. You didn’t have the time.

The only moment you had a small amount of down time to think was a few hours later. It was getting dark outside, and your shift had already ended. You obviously stayed. His room was lit up by a lamp in the corner and his head was turned to look out the window until you walked in.

You hadn’t gotten to talk to him since he told you that he loved you. Since then, he got 14 stitches and 6 staples in his head, and a brace put on his back. They were keeping him overnight for observation due to the trauma on his head.

“Hi.” You said as you walked in. His head turned towards you and he smiled.

“Hi princess.”

You sat at the edge of his bed, resting your hand on his leg. “How you feelin?”

He shook his head and shrugged. “Not great. Just crashed a hundred million dollar plane, almost killed another pilot. They’re never gonna let me go on the mission now.”

“I’m sorry.” You offered.

It was silent for a moment. Not awkward, but peaceful. “You know, when I went down and I was waiting for search and rescue, I was like ‘fuck I hope Y/N doesn’t see me like this’.” You giggled, which made him smile again.

“But I knew you worked today, and then when I got here, I was hoping I would see you.” He gulped and looked out the window. “I was scared. I didn’t wanna die and have a ton of random people around me.”

“I was scared too.” You said. “I don’t like seeing you hurting.”

In a moment unlike Jake Seresin, he was quiet. He messed with the blanket on his lap, looking down. “You know, I’m sorry if what I said made you uncomfortable. I just, I had a moment of like, realization, I guess.”

“Jake, you know how I feel about you, don’t you? I’m not very good at hiding it.”

He sighed. “I know. That’s why I said I was sorry. I feel like I kind of fucked with your feelings.” You nodded slowly. “But I’m done with that now. I’m just… not good at emotions, and all that shit.”

Confusing as always. “What are you saying?”

“I want to be more than just hooking up. I do love you, Y/N. I meant it when I said that.” He finally looked up at you.

You let out a breath of relief and leaned down to kiss him. For once, it wasn’t a kiss that was going to lead to something else. It was just a kiss. A loving one. “I meant it too. I love you Jake.”

You weren’t allowed to spend the night, so you went back to his apartment. You spent the whole night washing his sheets, making his bed comfy, cleaning his kitchen, and you even went and got some groceries early in the morning.

That morning, you drove Jake back to his apartment. You tucked him into his bed and made him breakfast. He absolutely adored how domestic you were, and he always begged you not to get out of bed, even if you were going to the bathroom. You laid in bed next to him as he ate his breakfast, and he tried to share some of it with you, but you insisted you weren’t hungry. You spent the whole day babying him, and he spent the whole day loving it.

The best part by far was the several “I love you”’s that we’re exchanged every 5 minutes.

As a movie played on his tv, he stroked your hair. “I have a question.” He stated.

“Okay.” You said, not lifting your head from his chest.

“So… I'm like… your boyfriend now, right?”

You couldn’t help but giggle at how awkwardly he posed the question. “Yes, Jake.”

He smiled widely. “I think that, since you’re my girlfriend and all, you should give me a kiss.”

You lifted your head to get close to his face. “Nothing would make me happier.”

#top gun imagine #top gun one shot #hangman imagine #hangman seresin imagine #hangman seresin x reader #jake seresin #jake seresin imagine #jake seresin x reader #hangman #rooster imagine #bradley bradshaw #hangman x reader #top gun maverick imagine #Bradley Bradshaw imagine #rooster x reader

2K notes · View notes

kireijae · 2 years ago

Text

09:37AM

pairing: haechan x gn!reader

genres: established relationship, hurt/comfort, angst, some fluff

warnings: mentions of cheating (only rumours), mentions of sasaengs

a/n: me??? writing ANGST?!?! the world is ending?! sorry if there are any mistakes i wrote this very quickly

♡‧₊˚ ↴

haechan was woken up by the buzzing of his phone. it was on vibrate, but he’d meant to put it on silent.

“hyung?” he answered as soon as he’d manoeuvred himself out from under you (hopefully) without waking you up. he opened his bedroom door and stood right outside it.

“is it true?” haechan knew exactly what johnny was asking.

“no,” he sighed, “i didn’t cheat on them.”

“so it’s just a sasaeng rumour,” johnny concluded. he half expected johnny to interrogate him. the way he’d expected everyone to; the way he’d expected you to. but you hadn’t. you believed him, or at least, you were trying to.

“yeah, one that’s got way out of hand,” he said, “that girl’s been following me for months. i was stupid and i went to that restaurant where she’s always waiting for me so i could confront her.”

haechan and johnny fell into a silence. haechan felt stupid, why had he thought it would work? threatening someone who has so much shit on him— or in this case, could make up so much shit about him. it was his fault those pictures were taken. his fault they were leaked. his fault you saw them. they made it seem as though he was on a date with someone— the angles curated perfectly to make it seem as though they were standing closer than they were.

“i did something similar once,” johnny’s voice drifted through haechan’s mind. he was barely listening. “threatened to sue if they didn’t stop following me around.”

“how’d that go,” haechan huffed.

“i got lucky. they got scared and stopped.” that didn’t help much. “what i’m saying is: what you did is a completely normal reaction. it’s not your fault it ended badly.”

“i think y/n’s gonna leave me,” he nearly choked on the tears he had been holding back since he heard the rumour. since you heard it.

“where are they? have you two spoken?”

“i mean, technically yes. not about what happened though. they’re in my room right now.”

johnny laughed, “they slept over?”

“mm,” haechan hummed an affirmative as if it was obvious. why would you sleep anywhere else?

“haechan-ah,” johnny continued through his light chuckles, “the two of you will be fine.”

“how do you know that?” haechan practically whined, completely frustrated.

“would you sleep over at someone’s house if you were going to breakup with them?”

“…well no but—”

“you have nothing to worry about, haechan,” johnny’s voice grew softer and haechan could nearly hear the words curving around a small smile. “now go back to them, okay? they needs you.”

haechan hung up and took a deep breath before going back into his room. your one arm was hanging of the side of the bed now; you’d turned over in your sleep. haechan stood and watched you for a bit. he loved the way the light hit your skin and how cute you were when your cheeks were puffy from sleep. all he wanted for you was happiness and the thought that he was part of the reason you’d been so upset last night threatened to tear is heart out.

“where did you go,” you whined suddenly, cheek still smashed into your pillow.

haechan’s smile formed as soon as he heard your voice, “johnny called.”

he crawled his way back onto the bed and tucked himself in beside you.

“he’s not here?” you mumbled out, lifting your head to look around the room.

haechan let out a small laugh, “his parents came to visit. he’s staying with them at a hotel.”

you made a sound adjacent to ‘oh’ before turning around again and crawling closer to your boyfriend. you slung your left arm over his chest and placed your chin on his shoulder, nose in the nape of his neck and face firmly planted on his pillow now.

he felt relief roll through him. he had been to worried to initiate anything physical with you, worried he’d make you upset. who would want to be cuddled by a guy who might’ve cheated on them? you’d been the one to nestle up on top of him during the night and he was only too relieved to reciprocate said nestling, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t still cautious.

“i’m sorry i overreacted,” you said quietly.

“don’t say that,” haechan had to fight to keep his volume in check, “i’m the one who’s sorry. it’s my fault those pictures even exist. i’m the one who went to confront her and didn’t check if anyone around had a camera.”

you sighed and waited a beat before replying, “you shouldn’t have to do that.”

haechan felt the tears come back to his eyes then.

“i just wanted her to stop. i wanted to keep you safe from the media and the rumours,” his voice quivered as he pushed the words from his mouth.

“haechan,” you lifted your head from the pillow now, “i’m fine. and that’s because i’m here, with you.”

♡‧₊˚

a/n: that was my first timestamp i believe?! i’m going to be writing more of these since i think my brain is more suited for them fjjfhd anyways i hope you liked it. please leave feedback! even if it’s a “i liked this” or something in the reblogs or in my asks

#lee haechan imagines #haechan imagines #lee haechan x reader #haechan x reader #haechan x y/n #haechan x you #lee haechan #haechan #fluff #haechan fluff #lee haechan fluff #dewdrops 𖧧. ָ࣪ ◝.

347 notes · View notes

kpopmakesmeweep · 4 years ago

Text

badboy!yeonjun x innocent!reader

word count: 21k

angst, fluff, smut

when your teacher asked you to tutor in the beginning of the school year, you were hesitant even then.

you knew that it meant your lunch period and one study hall for the day were gonna be completely booked, helping younger kids grasp the basic idea that the mitochondria was the powerhouse of the cell.

but then you met one young girl desperate to pass her first test in october and knew your teacher had gotten you, sending a small, defeated smile her way as you gave her the okay to put your name on the list.

you didn’t expect to come back from winter break with the news that the next student you’d be tutoring wasn’t a sweet 7th grade girl but none other than choi yeonjun.

the overwhelmingly attractive but horribly intimidating boy who was a year older than you and had, quite possibly, one of the worst reputations the school has ever seen.

if he wasn’t getting suspended for fighting or smoking on school grounds, you’d attempt to block out the mindless gossip about him and all the college girls he’d frequently fraternize with.

he was in your lunch period when you were a sophomore and he was a junior and you couldn’t help but be fascinated by how handsome he was. how he carried himself and how everyone else seemed to be fascinated by him too.

he was always wearing some variation of black, like his closet was just an empty void of black leather, dark cotton and chains. if he didn’t have on a beanie or hat, his then blue hair was a mess of waves that always made you look a few seconds too long.

you’ll never forget the day that he caught you, your nose in a textbook as you studied for a midterm before a loud shout of his name caught your attention.

you looked up and watched one of his friends playfully punch him in the arm, something about him hooking up with the older girl he had his eye on first and yeonjun only smirking at him devilishly.

he didn’t look apologetic or regretful in the slightest, more so like he’d do again just because he could and just because he knew the girl would be eager to have another go with him.

your breath caught in your throat when his deep brown eyes met yours, his head cocked as he held your gaze with all the confidence and smugness you could never have.

it took his lips quirking into a cocky smile for you to snap out of it, cheeks warming and stomach churning at getting caught before you dropped your gaze right back down to your book.

it was a quick and thorough reminder that this is where you feel comfortable and this is where you belong - with your nose in a book and your mind on your studies.

you’ve always intended to just get through high school with good grades and minimal distractions, a small (almost non-existent) friend group that left you able to make straight a’s and work a small, part-time job.

you’d done a pretty good job of that thus far, no bad boys covered in all black and sliver chains to show you that, maybe, getting out of your comfort zone isn’t such a bad thing after all.

you met yeonjun during your 7th period study hall a week later than intended, him not showing up to either of the periods your teacher informed you both last week.

you weren’t surprised in the slightest but also wouldn’t dare tattle on him, simply dodging the questions from your teacher or giving her a polite smile and cryptic answer.

but you couldn’t even stop the way your eyes widened when the library door opened and he was making his way toward you, black beanie placed on his head along with a dark shirt tight across his chest paired with gray sweatpants that made you bite down on your lip.

his hair was pink now, long with a slight wave to it that looked all too soft and inviting to touch; the color probably shouldn’t work on anyone but, of course, it works on him.

devastatingly attractive in a way that doesn’t seem fair nor human.

he hasn’t said a word to you, he wasn’t even within six feet of you yet, but you were already scared shitless. you already didn’t trust yourself to be around him and not make a bumbling fool of yourself.

a pretty smirk crossed his face when he stood in front of you, looking down at you with a playful look in his eye that was far too mocking and sinister.

“hey. y/n, right?”

you never would’ve pictured this man saying (or even knowing) your name, nor him looking at you so willingly and intensely, but you have to quickly snap yourself out of it.

this was as professional a relationship could be between two students and you really had to get it together.

“hi, yes... that’s me,” you say softly.

so softly that you’re not even sure he can hear it but you can, unfortunately, hear the tremor in your own voice and it’s nothing but absolute embarrassment.

he happens to like it though, if the way his eyes light up and his smirk widens tells you anything.

“i’m yeonjun.”

“i know.”

you say the statement far too quickly and it causes your face to warm, your mouth hanging open as the amusement continues to build behind his eyes; you can see with your own that the boy is too handsome for his own good but something tells you he’s probably far too charming as well.

“i mean... we were supposed to meet last week,” you attempt to clarify.

it seems like a good save, something to make, both, your embarrassment lessen slightly and for him to know you’re aware that he missed the two sessions last week.

but it doesn’t seem to work, the boy sitting down across from you with all the confidence and smoothness in the world. he leans in closer and you hold your breath, horribly lonely and touch-starved heart fluttering in your chest.

“i know, sorry about that,” he says, a genuineness in his voice that you can’t help but question. “i was busy with some things.”

you don’t know what to say so you don’t say anything, not even wanting to think about what kind of things keeps a man like him busy.

your teeth sinks into your bottom lip nervously and you can just feel his eyes burning into you, moving across your pink face and down to your soft white sweater; it makes you look every bit as innocent as he’s presumed you to be and he can’t say it doesn’t make him smile.

“and yet, the teacher didn’t say anything to me about missing.”

you meet his eyes at his questioning tone, so scrutinizing and intense that you feel very grateful about your decision not to blow up his spot; you don’t even wanna know what he looks like when he’s angry.

or maybe you do, some darker and suppressed part of yourself thinks.

“that’s because i didn’t tell her,” you say quietly, a lump forming in your throat that you’re trying desperately to push down. “i didn’t wanna....”

you almost say tattle and you think your face wold turn an unnatural shade of red if that silly word left your mouth in front of him.

so you meekly and sweetly decide on, “i didn’t wanna get you in trouble,” a smile gracing his face that almost makes you feel like you’d done a good job or something.

and how ridiculous does that sound? you did a good job for the older, delinquent boy - you don’t know what’s gotten into you.

maybe his smile and his eyes and just the way he’s looking at you is making you feel as if you’re actually something to look at - you’ve never really been observed the way he’s observing you.

a deep, melodic chuckle leaving his mouth causes you to swallow nervously, watching him with a blank expression because you’re not sure if he’s laughing at you or with you.

your heart stutters when he leans back to stretch, his arm squeezing at the back of his neck; it takes everything in you not to watch his arm flex.

“how’d i know you were a good girl, hm?”

your eyes widen at his words, stomach swooping in a way that’s only ever happened when you watch couples on tv or read about a romance in books.

because it’s not only his words, it’s the way he carries himself. the way he’s looking at you and speaking to you, the way you never thought anyone would - let alone him.

he must mistake your utter...shock and fascination for confusion, eyes wide and cheeks flushed and he suddenly wants to place his hand on your cheek.

see if it’s as warm and soft as it appears to be in this very moment.

“you were in my lunch last year, no?” he hums, looking directly at you with zero ounce of fear and ever bit of confidence. “always with a textbook or writing something.”

he doesn’t remember all the girls that gawk at him but he remembered you immediately.

caught your gaze early last year and saw something flicker in your eyes, a soft and innocent fascination he wasn’t used to seeing but immediately made him wanna ruin you - he wanted to ruin you and he didn’t even know you.

he just knew that he’d watch you sometimes, discreetly and quickly, but enough to get his fix.

when he entered the cafeteria and made sure you were sitting there with your your face buried in a book.

when you’d get up to buy lunch or a bottle of water, pull down your skirt or adjust your hair in a way that made him wanna touch you in a similar fashion.

when you’d leave five minutes early (in what he fantasized was so you wouldn’t be late) and send him one last glance. feel your soft, hesitant gaze on his face and meet it carelessly at the very last second.

just enough to watch you get shy and see the blush so similar to now cross your cheeks.

he didn’t know your name and he, truthfully, never intended on learning it. because as much as he wanted to truly ruin you, he knew that’s all it was - a dark, twisted fantasy that someone like him shouldn’t act on.

but then when he walked in and saw you here, the tutor he was dreading to meet in such a familiar position, he knew immediately that you were her.

the cute girl from his lunch he wasn’t sure was an angel he wanted to protect or someone he wanted to fuck the shit out of.

you weren’t sure what to think right now, not wanting to get your hopes up or think too much into his question - you were in my lunch last year, no?

think that you were special and he remembers you for reasons far too fantastical so you only nod, figuring he could be taking a guess; there’s only three lunch periods after all.

“yeah. your hair was blue.”

a smirk crosses his face, chest warming at the fact you remembered him (even though the cocky, confident part inside of him knew you would).

“yes it was,” he confirms, smiling down at you in a way that makes your heart jump and pound even more. ”i was hoping you’d remember. because i knew i recognized you from somewhere.”

you don’t know how you’re gonna do this. you can barely look at him, how are you supposed to talk to him and teach him twice a week and actually-

“i do wanna ask you something else though.”

your eyebrows pull together at the slight change in his voice, cocking your head to the side as you look at him.

he’s leaning in a little closer now, tiny pink strands hanging from his beanie as his brown eyes bore into yours. there’s still some amusement twinged in his eyes but it all looks very deceptive, unnerving a part of you that your stupid little heart is ignoring.

he doesn’t allow you to ask him what before he starts talking again.

“how about we keep these sessions the way they’ve been?”

your eyebrow raises as confusion continues to plague you; your sessions haven’t even started?

you haven’t even taught him anything, what could he possibly- but it’s the moment he opens his mouth to speak again, you realize that’s exactly the point.

“you tell the teacher i’m coming to these and i’ll tell her what a good job you’re doing. how much i’m learning from you and shit.”

a smirk crosses his face when he peers into your eyes, catching the nervous, unsure look in them that only makes his smirk widen - you really are too cute.

you, on the other hand, don’t know how you feel about his suggestion; you just know how you feel about lying.

it doesn’t sit well with you and you don’t wanna get in trouble.

the teacher has a class during this period so it’s not like she’d come down and check but it still makes you incredibly queasy.

and if he needed tutoring in the first place, he obviously needs help. he’s a senior and needs to keep his grades up so he can graduate. it’d be your fault if he didn’t pass and you’d hate to be the reason he gets-

movement in front of you causes your thoughts to immediately stop, body freezing as you watch him lift his arm and bring his hand to your head.

he moves a strand of hair from your face before smoothing out the slight crease in your forehead, biting down on his lip when he feels your skin is just as soft and smooth as he suspected.

“what are you thinking so hard about?”

the deep, low tone of his voice and inquisitive look on his face is dangerous, almost as dangerous as the frantic beating of your heart and the way it’s about to pound out of your chest.

it’s like he has electric sparks shooting from his hand, making you feel extremely exposed and vulnerable even though his touch is quite gentle and innocent.

“i.... it’s just....” you stutter out, taking a deep breath because you know you need to get it together fast. “you’ve been having trouble, right? that’s... why you needed tutoring in the first place.”

his eyebrow quirks up at your comment and for a split second, you think you’ve offended him.

“i don’t want you to fail, yeonjun.”

he doesn’t allow himself to dwell on your words, realize that no one has so openly and sweetly said that to him before. or even cared enough to tell him that they don’t want him to fail.

he knows the teachers and counselors get him help because it’s their job.

he knows his parents bitch and complain about it because they don’t want him repeating high school or wasting their money.

he knows anyone who says anything to him about it is just doing it to make themselves look like a good person or friend.

but you just so openly and sweetly said it, a deep concern in your eyes that he knows he can’t dwell on or his similar feelings are gonna arise from last year’s lunch.

where he’s about to throw caution to the wind and do anything and everything he wants to someone as innocent and sweet as you; but he can’t do that and he knows it, he knows that’s why these session can’t happen - on top of the fact that it’s not only you.

he smokes during lunch and into this period.

and there’s just no fucking way he’s spending that time suppressing his predatory attraction to you while learning about shit he doesn’t understand and being high as a kite.

“you don’t gotta worry about me, angel,” he hums lowly, the name falling so naturally and smoothly from his mouth, he doesn’t even realize. “just do that for me, yeah? then you’ll have 7th free.”

you don’t hear much after he calls you angel, just that he’s asking you to do something for him and you’re blindly and dumbly nodding because he just called you that.

and it’s not until he smiles and thanks you deeply, looking over your face once more before saying that he’ll see you around that you realize you’re alone.

sitting there as you watch yeonjun walk out the door without a glance back and come to terms with the fact you just agreed to lie to your teacher for him.

for almost a month, you were able to keep it up.

it was terrifying and debilitating and it almost sent you into a full blown identity crisis, but you’d somehow managed to do it.

that was until this afternoon, when your teacher cut through the cafeteria during lunch with a cup of coffee in hand and suspicion in the pit of her stomach.

she saw you sitting there alone, your own books sprawled out around you as you wrote down notes before her short call of your name had your head snapping up.

her eyes watching you quizzically made your own widen, stomach sinking and heart starting to pound as he she made her way over to you.

“hi, y/n. where’s yeonjun today? it’s wednesday.”

the period only began ten minutes ago so it wouldn’t be weird for you to say that he wasn’t here yet. that he got held up after class and would be on his way shortly.

but you were just nervous and so bad at lying that you blurted out that he left to go to the bathroom, her eyes roaming the table in what you could only assume was for his books.

“he took his backpack with him,” you tell her quietly, smiling softly in an effort to hide your guilt and distress. she only hums softly before nodding her head, taking your word for it because why wouldn’t she?

you’re good and studious and wouldn’t ever lie to a teacher.

but then when she comes down to the library next week during 7th period with her class, catching you at the table by yourself, you do it again.

look her in the face and panic, make a scene of collecting your books as you tell her you forgot you guys were meeting in the cafeteria today - placing the blame on yourself.

you spent the rest of the period in the bathroom, collecting your thoughts and attempting to calm yourself down because you can’t keep lying.

you haven’t even talked to yeonjun since the first time you met in the library, only seeing him in passing in the hallway or after school.

he’ll send you a nod paired with his signature smirk and you’ll send him a small smile back, dipping your head before your cheeks flush at the mere sight of his eyes.

you wish you hadn’t agree to this.

you wish he didn’t effect you so much and you wish you could tell him you either need to actually help him or tell the teacher he doesn’t want to, because you’re losing your mind.

you’re anxious and upset and not feeling good about yourself, barely able to look your teacher in the face these days.

it’s on a friday before lunch, the bell ringing ready to dismiss you from her class, that it all comes crashing down.

she asked you to stay behind for a moment, everything about her face calm and neutral as you made your way over to her desk.

you were anything but calm as you stood before her, that familiar feeling of dread and guilt rushing in your stomach as you smiled softly at her and asked if everything was okay.

“yes, i just wanted to say what a great job you’re doing with yeonjun.”

you don’t even know what your face looks like but you know it’s probably the face of someone incredibly guilty, being praised for something you haven’t been doing and taking credit for it even though you know it’s wrong.

the feeling in your stomach confirms all of those feelings, tight and fluttery and buzzing with upset.

“o-oh?”

“yeah,” she smiles tightly, looking over your face before speaking again. “we just took our third test and he did great. in the low 90s.”

a part of you desperately hopes that to be true, that maybe he started applying himself and somehow started to grasp the material all on his own. you smile at the thought that that’s the case, nodding your head as you, against your better judgment, keep up the facade.

“i’m happy for him. he’s been working very hard. w-we studied at our last session for it, actually, and he really seemed to be understanding it.”

the contemplative look she gave you should’ve been the first sign that she knew you were full of shit, a quiet hum leaving her mouth. she holds your gaze until the moment you drop it, looking down at your white sneakers until she calls your name softly.

“y/n... why have you been lying to me?”

your lips press together as tears prick your eyes, all of the guilt and shame rushing through you at once.

“he failed his test and i know you guys haven’t been meeting.”

she knows that because you can’t lie. she knows that because yeonjun still doesn’t know anything and all of the students she’s recommended to you have passed with flying colors.

she knows because when you look up at her, your lip is trembling and it looks like you’re about to burst into tears.

“i... i’m so sorry.”

but even then, even after this moment right here, you’re still not gonna tell on yeonjun. because you don’t want him getting in trouble and you’re not gonna try to excuse your own behavior by admitting you agreed to it.

you’re just as at fault as the older boy and you’re not gonna pretend you’re not.

“why have you been lying? you could’ve just told me if you didn’t feel comfortable tutoring him or it wasn’t working out.”

because she knows yeonjun’s reputation. she knows he’s a year older and that you’re one of the shyer students in her class. she was hesitant at first to even put you two together but thought you’d be able to get through to him.

and because you don’t know what to say, how to make up an excuse that puts neither of you at fault, you don’t say anything. just continue to apologize with teary eyes and a shaky voice before she eventually lets out a sigh.

“take the next few days to figure it out. try to work on it with him or come to me and be honest that it’s not gonna work. but you didn’t have to lie to me, y/n. i’m a little disappointed in you.”

those words hit you harder than you care to admit, more tears building as you nod your head and quickly leave the room.

you knew from the beginning that it was wrong.

you never felt good about it and you knew it was bad but you still took part in it. she has every right to be disappointed in you and it feels like everything you worked so hard for has been ruined.

now you look like a liar who can’t be trusted.

now any time you tell her about another fellow student you’re working with, like the 7th grader you got through to or the 9th grader you helped get an a on their test, she’s gonna wonder if you really did that.

if you really helped them or if you’re just lying about that, too. telling them the answers to their homework or lazily explaining the concepts to them like you don’t work hard with each and every one of them.

you’re surprised to see yeonjun when you make it to lunch a few moments later, your stomach still in knots and left over tears in your eyes.

you don’t even realize you’re standing in front of his table until you hear one of his friend’s deep voices, a brash “who are you?” not even filling you with fear.

you’re only looking at yeonjun pathetically, wide teary eyes and pouty lips in an effort to hold back more tears.

yeonjun’s dressed in his usual attire but you can’t even focus on that, his pink hair flawless against his black shirt and chain hanging around his neck as he adjusts it carelessly.

soobin’s words catch his attention before your appearance does, looking at the front of the table and taking in the sight of wide, teary eyes and pouty lips; it pulls at something in his chest more than he cares to admit.

“yeonjun, can i talk to you for a second?”

your voice is wobbly and timid and everything about it so incredibly embarrassing, the tears in your eyes obvious to all the young men around the table.

you probably look like some girl he slept with and then left on read, begging him for another chance because your heart can’t take not being with him. because you got attached and now it feels like you need him.

but, really, you just need him to let you tutor him.

you can’t disappoint the teacher anymore and you had a job to do with him; you should’ve never told him that lying would be okay.

“who’s this?” his friend asks with a smirk, his hair a bright shade of purple that looks striking next to yeonjun’s.

“no one,” yeonjun’s quick to snap, looking at you before quickly getting up and guiding you out of the cafeteria by the small of your back.

he walks down a secluded hallway and out to the garden of the school, looking at the tears in your eyes and feeling himself frown.

“what happened?”

“i... she found out we haven’t been meeting,” you mumble, feeling silly and childish for crying in front of him about something like this; but you can’t help how you feel, you can’t help feeling sad and guilty about all of this.

your heart drops when he actually smirks at you, looking over your face with a gaze that’s just as soft as it is amused.

you’re almost positive he’s about to laugh at you, call you a loser for crying over something as juvenile as getting caught in a silly lie and hurt your feelings even more.

but then you’re quickly stiffening when his hand reaches up, gently brushing at your tears and marveling in just how soft your skin is.

“that’s why you’re crying?”

you’re embarrassed to say the least, any words you’d use to justify your reaction caught in your throat - and the smirk on his face isn’t helping either.

“you’re too pretty to cry over stupid shit like that, y/n.”

“it’s not stupid,” you respond, voice shaky and demeanor meek but still able to talk back.

because it’s not stupid to you. wanting to be nice and studious and a good person isn’t stupid. not wanting to be a liar or someone who goes back on their word isn’t stupid.

“she trusted me to help you and i lied to her.”

“we lied to her,” he says, voice and eyes teasing as he bends down to be on your level. you think he’s trying to make you feel better, a soft playfulness on his face that does anything but.

because you aren’t like him.

you aren’t cool and feared and you can’t not care about how you effect other people.

“why didn’t you just tell her it was my idea?” he asks suddenly, his eyes roaming your face in such a gentle but curious way. “she probably already knows that.”

“i... i didn’t want you to get in trouble.”

he rises to his full height as a small smile crosses his face, your soft voice and sweet words again effecting him far too much. he shouldn’t feel this way toward you and he shouldn’t want to be tutored now.

he shouldn’t be reaching out to touch the smooth skin of your cheek, a few stray tears making his lips fall into the smallest of frowns as you hear his voice the softest it’s ever been.

“i wouldn’t get in trouble, angel.”

and there’s that word again. making your wet eyes widen and stomach to flutter, wondering how and why that simple word sounds so nice leaving his mouth.

maybe because you’ve never been called that before.

could only imagine being called that by someone, let alone him, in such a way. or maybe it’s because it is him, the boy you watched for months on end, forever fascinated by the way he carried himself.

or maybe it’s because-

“but even if i did, how’s that your problem? why would you care?”

it’s a fair question you suppose but it doesn’t stop you from licking at your lips nervously, an all too familiar (and embarrassing) blush warming your cheeks.

“i mean... it’s not,” you mutter shyly, not sure if you’re more intimidated by him calling you out or the look on his face.

but even with those feelings, you’re still able to meet his gaze.

take in the deep, dark intensity staring back at you in his brown eyes. they’re softer than one would expect, almost soft enough to make you forget what you were wanting to say.

“but it’s just as much my fault as it is yours. so it didn’t seem fair.”

he smirks so he doesn’t say anything too brash, looking over the blush on your cheeks. his hand itches to move your hair behind your ear, a move he’d always do because he knew it was charming.

knew it’d get him laid and get a girl’s heart fluttering.

but now he wants to do it just to touch you, feel your hair and skin and watch the blush on your cheeks deepen; but before he can do anything, he’s surprised to hear you speak anything.

“but it’s also not fair to keep lying,” you say softly, a broken little smile crossing your face as you look at him. “i actually really hated the lying... so if you don’t wanna do the sessions, i’m gonna tell her it’s not gonna work for us. but if you change your mind, i’m still free during those periods.”

at that moment, he had every intention of telling you no.

he didn’t wanna give up his free time and energy to learn about things he’s absolutely sure he’s never gonna need to know after this.

he didn’t wanna sit through the sessions high or not get high at all, the only way he’s able to cope with the last period of the school day knowing that he could roll a joint in his car with soobin.

he didn’t wanna resist his obvious attraction and borderline fascination with you, act on it in a way he knows you’re not ready for and in a way he shouldn’t.

but when he walked in the library on monday, the time he told you he’d get back to you, you looked up and smiled at him. it was such a small, quick smile but everything about it called to him.

the twinge in your eyes and the way your hair fell, how even though your smile was small, it lit up your face and made you the prettiest girl he’d ever seen in his life.

at that moment, you were positive he was about to tell you no.

that thanks but no thanks, he’s absolutely not gonna spend his free period being tutored by a younger student who only stutters and blushes in his presence.

but when he sat down in front of you, a smirk on his face and eyebrow quirked, you couldn’t even hold back your look of surprise.

a deep chuckle left his mouth when he caught your expression, the sound one of the best noises you’ve ever heard.

“what? did you think i wasn’t coming back, angel?”

it took you a month to see yeonjun was just as confident and just as much trouble as you’d expected.

he was far too charming and attractive and funny, a sarcasm and wit in him that made you muffle your giggles like a middle school girl.

you weren’t used to talking playfully with the people you tutored, always so focused on getting the work done and making sure you were doing a good job explaining the material for them.

but yeonjun always made sure to delay it, attempt to get to know you before you could even discuss his homework or review sheet; and even though it hasn’t been easy, he’s been persistent in breaking down that wall you put up.

“did the flashcards help or do you think you’re more of a-”

“why don’t you ever go out?”

you suppress the urge to let out a sigh as you turn to look at him, his expressive eyes looking over your face.

you’ve gotten used to the feel of his gaze on you, almost like it was burning into your skin and leaving you exposed to the bone, but it didn’t help when you made eye contact.

looked into his eyes and saw him looking back at you so confidently and so easily, you couldn’t help but feel flustered.

“what do you mean?”

you know exactly what he means but it’s the only thing you could think to say.

you know more than anyone how much time you spend alone in your room, watching tv series and reading books and reorganizing until you don’t even recognize your own space.

but it’s not that you’re bothered by it, that’s what you like going. not going out isn’t something you find bad or upsetting.

“i mean i see people from your grade at our parties a lot,” he hums lowly, his eyes leaving yours only to look at the soft, pastel pink material of your sweater.

“but you’re never there,” he continues, looking at you and cocking his head to the side questioningly. “why’s that?”

“well, i’m not...invited, i guess,” you mumble out, ignoring the way your cheeks warm even more. “i like sticking to myself. and staying home.”

the words and your tone bring a pout to his face, your eyebrow raising at the sight. why is looking at you like that?

“well now you have an invite,” he says, a teasing smile crossing his face. “come to my friend’s party tonight. soobin, do you know him? he has the purple hair?”

his voice is far too sweet and soft compared to the look in his eye, teasing and flirty and reminding you of just how dangerous he is. how he’s capable of having so many different sides, he nearly gives you whiplash.

he’s the bad boy everyone thinks of him to be, skipping class and getting high and ditching tutoring lessons by smiling too kindly at a mousy little tutor.

he’s the play boy you see come out when he looks at you a second too long, bringing a blush to your cheeks and stirring something very unfamiliar in the pit of your stomach.

but then he has a softer side you see sometimes, like when he decided to do these lessons in the first place because you cried to him and made yourself look even more pathetic.

“i’m happy you decided to do these,” you say to him quietly.

it was only your second session but you wanted him to know you were supportive of his decision. that, even if your word meant nothing (because, really, who are you to him?), you were proud of him.

it’s not easy for a senior to give up a period or two to learn about things they don’t understand; you probably wouldn’t wanna do it either, if school and learning didn’t come naturally to you.

but for whatever reason, he agreed to do it.

“oh?” he hums, the trademark smirk on his face causing your cheeks to warm.

“yeah,” you smile softly, nodding your head before looking down at your clasped fingers. “i just... wanted you to know that. i understand why you didn’t want to but i think it’ll be good for-”

“why do you think i didn’t want to?”

you look at him and for a split second you’re scared that you offended him. you suppose you don’t really know him well enough to make an assumption about him but you just assumed he-

“or, you know what, no,” he says, shaking his head as he pushes his chair closer to yours.

he leans over the desk the same way he did during your first meeting last month, bringing your faces closer until you can smell cologne and the faint stench of cigarettes.

“i wanna hear why you think i changed my mind?”

you quirk an eyebrow as you look at him, staring blankly until you realize he just plans on doing the same.

“well... i guess it’s because you wanted to do good, right?” you ask meekly, unsure why he changed his mind but knowing that you were happy he did. “and maybe you didn’t wanna disappoint the teacher.”

a deep chuckle leaves his mouth that has butterflies erupting in your stomach, watching as he shakes his head and meets your gaze again.

“is that no it?” you ask bravely, your wide eyes and confused look causing his own stomach to do flips. “what’s so funny?”

but he’s quick to push it down, reach over to ruffle your hair in a way that makes your eyebrows pull together.

“nothing, angel,” he mumbles, his eyes roaming yours. you see the exact moment there’s s witch behind them, a flirty and darker front he puts up melting into a soft, vulnerable look.

“but thank you for telling me that. because i’m happy i’m doing them, too.”

he has yet to tell you the reason all these weeks later, probably because you wouldn’t dare ask again, but whatever it was, must’ve greatly inspired him.

because over these weeks, he’s really been putting in the work. writing notes and listening to you and asking questions when he’s not making you blush or inviting you out just for you to decline.

“so...?” he asks, a charismatic smile stretching across his face as he looks at you awaitingly. “what do you say? you wanna come?”

“no, thank you,” you smile politely, feeling bad for downright denying it but the offer feeling far too similiar to cliche movies you’ve watched. where the popular boy invites the nerd to a party and everyone laughs at her, questions why the hell she’s here and pulls some stupid, immature prank on her.

but this isn’t a movie and you don’t think you even have the capacity to show your face there, nor would anyone care that much to target you.

dismissing him is easier than really considering you hanging out with him outside of this library. seeing him in a different setting and allowing him to see a different side of you.

not you looking at him pleadingly, your eyes moving to the paper in front of him as you ask him to do the next question.

“i’ll do it if you come tomorrow night,” he says, a sigh leaving your mouth as you look at him in frustration.

“yeonjun...”

because if there’s another thing you’ve learned about yeonjun, it’s that he knows you have trouble saying no to him. it could because he sees the naivety in you, seeing something good in him at times and thinking you’ll really be able to help him.

but maybe he hopes you can help him, too. be a person he can lean on and know 100% is gonna be there for him.

“c’mon, y/n, don’t you wanna have a little fun?”

“i don’t think i’d find it fun,” you mutter honestly, a pout forming on your lips that has him swearing he’s never wanted to kiss someone as much as he wants to kiss you in this moment.

just brush his lips gently against yours, hear the little sounds and see your reactions that he knows will be the best thing he’s ever had. hold your waist and feel your skin against his that while it’s juvenile to him would be so much to you.

“you don’t know until you try, y/n,” he mutters lowly, looking up at him and seeing his gaze is, as usual, unrelenting. “have you ever been to a party before?”

of course you’ve been to parties before; birthday parties, graduation parties, wedding parties - but you’ve never been to a high school house party.

and are you about to tell him that? absolutely not.

“of course i have,” you mumble, a smirk on his lips because he can tell by the way you avert eye contact that you’re lying. “but it’s just... especially with kids from school who i don’t know? i don’t think it’d be fun, yeonjun.”

“but i’d be there?” he whines, something very uncharacteristic of someone who is known to be a bad boy. “isn’t that fun enough?”

you let out a groan as you frown again, tapping the notebook in front of you lightly as you meet his close gaze.

“your test is next week, yeonjun. can you please focus on that right now?”

it’s not until the next session that he thinks to use that to his advantage, supposing he can stand one more party without your presence as he smiles over at you.

“let’s make a deal, angel.”

you know when he calls you that that you’re not about to talk about school or his test, looking over at him with a raised eyebrow.

“if i get 100 on my test next week, you come to one of soobin’s party.”

you have to suppress a groan at the way he’s not letting up on this damn party, biting down on your lip as you do your best to give him a serious look.

“you should get the 100 because you want to, not because you’re trying to-”

his finger on your lips is the next thing you’re only able to focus on.

not the pounding of your heart or increasing anxiety at the thought of a party or the fact that there’s more people in the library than usual today.

you’re only aware of him touching you, a quiet “sh,” leaving his mouth that has your stomach fluttering far more than you care to admit.

he meets your wide-eyed gaze and smirks at the look on your face. his finger presses down on your bottom lip gently, dragging it slowly and watching as it pops back up.

there’s an almost pained look in his eyes that you can’t make out, his eyes never moving from your lips before meeting your gaze again.

“i want a lot of things, y/n,” he says, his voice deep and gruff and making your heart pound even more as he looks to your mouth again.

you feel your lower stomach swoop at the way he bites down on his bottom lip, his other hand ghosting over to rest of your knee.

your uniform skirt comes just above your knees, becoming higher when you sit and perfectly exposing your tight covered legs. his large hand rests on your knee like it completely belongs there, like he’s gonna dare anyone to tell him it doesn’t belong there and to take his hands off you.

“things i probably shouldn’t tell you yet so your pretty little face doesn’t become beat red,” he mumbles in your ear, his warm breath fanning onto your skin and making a shaky, embarrassing sigh leave your mouth.

but just him realizing that makes your cheeks flush. everything about his closeness and his words and the way he’s just saying these things to you right in the middle of the library.

the way his hand is slipping inside of your knee, fingers resting on the inside of your thigh that has some dirty, repressed part of you desperate to spread your legs just a little bit more for him.

feel more of his skin on you and heighten the feeling building in your lower half.

“but i can assure you, none of them are an on my test. but if that means getting you to spend time with me outside of this fucking hellhole, i’m gonna do it.”

just as fast as his hand was on your thigh, it’s gone and cupping your face. holding on to your jaw as he makes you look at him and has a look of softness and amusement but also darkness and arousal.

it probably has every bit to do with the fact you let out a tiny squeal when he did so, your eyes widening and legs now spreading apart ever so slightly.

“do you understand now?”

you should have the power here being his tutor but you don’t. you’re the cat and he’s the mouse, you’re the prey and he’s the predator and you’re not about to do anything to stop it.

“ye-yes yeonjun,” you say, a groan almost leaving his mouth at you how compliant you are already.

and it’s that reaction right there that has him skipping the party on friday and spending his weekend doing something he never thought he’d do his senior year - making flashcards and studying his ass off.

you remember being incredibly proud when, two weeks later, yeonjun came to your session with his graded test paper in hand.

he looked happy and accomplished and ready to take on the world, a warm feeling blooming in your chest at the look on his face.

“how’d you do?” you smiled up at him, your eyes soft and expression excited.

when he flipped the test over to reveal his 100% test, your first instinct was to raise your hand for a high five. it’s what you always did with the younger kids, praising them and sharing their excitement over a test that they worked incredibly hard on.

so when you did the same thing to him, quickly realizing he’s not one of your 7th grade students but an absurdly attractive man, your cheeks flushed and you stuttered out a “sorry.”

but he only chuckled lightly and high-fived you immediately, lacing your fingers from across the table before you could pull away. the action caught you off guard more than your nerdy high-five, eyes looking down to your conjoined hands before you gave him an incredulous look.

“what are you doing?” you squeak out, fearing that your hand’s about to get clammy and your heart may explode.

“don’t tell me you don’t remember our deal?”

you realized before you even entered soobin’s house that you made a grave mistake.

music was pounding through the open windows of the house and a few people were littered across the lawn. a drunken couple sloppily making out while another one fought about someone dancing with a stranger all before ten p.m.

you truly intended on never coming, telling yeonjun you seriously could not go through with this and had to flake out on your deal.

but he’d been so proud of his test. not just because it meant you were coming but because it showed him he was actually capable - or at least, that was the story he told you.

and whether you were silly and naive to believe him was on you since now, you’re walking into a party looking like someone’s holding a weapon to your back.

“so i’ll see you tonight, right?”

you were still hesitant even during 7th period this afternoon, looking at yeonjun with a pained expression.

“yeonjun... i really don’t know if i can do it.”

“why not? i’m gonna be there, just for you.”

you swallow down a bold, sassy remark that he’s gonna be there anyway, probably to remind your fluttering heart not to think too much into his comment.

but is him being there enough to make you go? or is that scaring you more? seeing him outside of school, around his friends, in an environment where he can be even more bold and daring.

after all, being in the school library didn’t stop him from creeping his hand up your inner thigh.

“i don’t just wanna follow you around all night and bother you like a lost puppy,” you whine quietly, knowing this was part of the deal but seeing just how impossible it is.

“how could you think you’d bother me?” he asks, his head cocked to the side just as the bell ringing interrupts you.

you let out a sigh as you stand to gather your books. you can feel his watchful eyes on you, attempting to ignore it as you silently get ready to go to next period.

he mistakes you walking away from the table to throw out a stray sheet of paper as you leaving, quickly rising from his feet and pulling you back into him. your body collides with his before he presses you against the table, the library nearly empty as the loud chatter of students can be heard from the hallways.

“were you gonna leave without answering me?”

his voice is deep and has a certain dominating darkness behind it, your eyes raising to his just in time to see him cock an eyebrow up.

“i... i was gonna throw this out,” you answer dumbly, raising the crumpled up paper behind your back.

he hums thoughtfully before taking it from your hand, crumbling it up and tossing it in the nearest garbage can. he misses but makes no attempt to pick it up, keeping you pinned between him and the table with no qualms about it.

“you missed,” you point out obviously.

a smirk crosses his lips as he lets out a hum, bringing his hand up to smooth out a piece of your hair.

“i’m gonna ask again,” he mumbles lowly in your ear, his large body and deep voice quickly making your breaths quicken.

“how could you think you’d bother me when i spent my entire weekend studying for that test?” he asks, his hands snaking down your body before gently resting onto your hips.

him pulling you closer causes another shaky sigh to leave you, your low, warning mumble of his name only making him smirk. he shouldn’t like this so much, how you sound so sweet and flustered and are allowing him have you like this.

“that was all for you, angel. not for me or the teacher or my parents or anyone else. just you. because i wanna hang out with you.”

you swallow the nervous lump in your throat as you raise your eyes to meet his, the playfulness that was in them turning the slightest bit dark. something in them making you lick over your lips as you try to calm your racing heart.

“you won’t even know when i’m there. how am i gonna find you?”

it’s the worst excuse you could have ever thought of but you’re not surprised since yeonjun was pressed against your body and breathing down your neck the way he was.

he chuckled lowly like he also knew it was the worst excuse you could’ve thought of, taking your phone from the table. he slides it open and looks to you, his eyebrow raised when you just continue to stare at him blankly.

then you remember, like every other teenager in the world, you have a lock on your phone.

“0319.”

he smirks at how easily you give it up, tapping a few buttons on the screen before handing it back to you.

“i put my number in there. text me when you’re there,

so even with a pit in your stomach and anxiety coursing through your veins, you go to his new contact name and type out “i’m here.”

you’re faintly aware of the fighting couple’s voices growing louder, his deep groans mixed with her higher pitched whines causing you to look over.

“i saw you touch her waist!” the girl yelps, her hands on her hips with a very obvious look of distaste. “so obviously you didn’t mind! maybe you should dance with her the rest of the night!”

“maybe i will, since you’re so god damn annoying,” he yells back, your lips falling into a frown.

the girl meets your gaze and it’s then you recognize her as a girl in your grade. she’s from the popular group but is one of the nicer ones, always smiling politely at other students and listening to teachers during their lessons.

she almost looks embarrassed to be caught in this scenario, a broken smile crossing her face before her boyfriend notices your gaze; you don’t recognize him, so you think he must be in yeonjun’s grade.

“what the fuck are you looking at?”

your cheeks flush as you immediately snap your head away, quickly becoming scared and uncomfortable. you can hear her chastising him but just want to be away as soon as possible, the prospect of this drunk man cursing at you somehow worse than a house full of strangers.

yeonjun hasn’t answered your text but you still take a deep breath as you walk toward the front door, immediately hit with the scent of alcohol, b.o. and weed. there’s loud music blaring from the speakers and making the house vibrate, bodies littered throughout the house as they all talk loudly and dance.

your eyes scan the room for his pink hair, stomach sinking when you see no sign of him.

is he even here yet? he told you he was coming at nine but could he be running late? or did he forget entirely, ignore your text as a joke and now you have to-

“hey. how do i know you?”

the first thing you see is purple hair and you’re immediately thrown back into the crowded cafeteria all those months ago. when you so boldly went up to yeonjun with tears in your eyes and he was quick to pull you away.

you remember the boy in front of you asking who you were, the same curiosity in his eyes now as you stand in his house looking extremely uncomfortable and out of place.

“i... my name’s y/n,” you begin quietly, the boy barely able to hear you over the music and loud chatter. “i had to talk to yeonjun during lunch once so i went up to your table and-”

“well shit, so you’re her.”

there’s a smirk on his face and gleam in his eye, like he knows something you don’t. you cock your head to the side in confusion, watching as his smirk widens and he nods his head approvingly.

“his tutor, right? he told me about you.”

“oh... yeah,” you say quietly, because yeah, that would make sense - his friends probably wonder where he goes during his free period now; there’s a few beats of awkward silence before he speaks up again.

“so what are you doing here?”

your cheeks flush and you wish you could blame the stuffiness of his house, looking to him as you stutter out that yeonjun invited you.

“did he now,” he hums, his eyes roaming your face and stopping on your cheeks. he doesn’t know what exactly yeonjun wants from a girl like you but he has to be honest in saying he sees the appeal.

“follow me then, sweetheart. you want a drink?”

you shake your head before following behind him, making eye contact with one too many intimidating boys and girls before landing on your feet. everyone’s in pretty heeled boots and crop tops, dancing and singing and grinding like they don’t have any cares in the world.

like they’re not terrified and dreading being here, even with the knowledge that the attractive boy they may or may not have developed a crush on is lingering around.

“oh, yeonjunnie,” you hear soonbin whine sarcastically, your eyes shooting up just in time to see his familiar black attire. his pink hair is poking out of his black beanie, the chain around his neck hanging low as he turns to look at his friend.

“i found someone for you,” the boy says before yeonjun can respond, bringing you around to the front.

you’re in the middle of both boys who tower over you and you’re not sure if you’ve ever felt more threatened; especially because when yeonjun looks at you, you’d think he didn’t know your name.

because he doesn’t give you a hi or a smile or even a flicker of recognition in his gaze.

he looks at you and simply says, “well, shit, i didn’t think you’d actually come,” with such a handsomely conniving smirk, you’re not sure what to think in that moment.

because it seems as if all your silly, irrational fears are coming true in this moment. very much like the movies you’ve seen and scenarios you’ve pictured where you’re humiliated at a party or by the popular boy.

but his smile and his words seemed so genuine. he’s seemed so genuine getting to know you these past few months, how could he have faked it so well?

the way your face drops and cheeks warm cause his heart to break a little, still all too aware of the questioning eyes and lingering looks thrown your way.

“didn’t you invite her?” soobin questions, looking between you and him and noting how embarrassed you look.

“i did,” is all yeonjun responds. no rhyme or reason or answer as to why he did. just that he did. so it could very well be a joke.

“well then, welcome, y/n,” soobin responds, reaching his hand out to you. “i’m soobin, in case we weren’t formally introduced.”

you give him a tight smile, yeonjun’s piercing gaze on yours as you take soobin’s large hand in yours.

“nice to meet you.”

your voice is soft and shaky and brings more heat to your cheeks, wanting to die when soobin rips up one of his friends for you to sit on the couch.

“i don’t mind standing,” you insist, shaking your head and offering a small smile to the other boy.

“no, no, pretty girls shouldn’t stand,” soobin says with a smirk, catching the way yeonjun’s eyes roll and jaw clenches; it all goes unnoticed to you, though, too busy sitting down and looking at your hands nervously folded into one another.

“so y/n,” soobin says, sitting down across from you and leaning forward the same way yeonjun does during his tutoring sessions. “what’s it like to tutor this idiot?”

his words are laced with affection, as are his actions as he ruffles yeonjun’s beanie playfully, but they still make you frown. still make you wanna defend him in front of others and ensure that he’s not an idiot.

“he’s great actually,” you say softly, lips pulled up in a soft smile. “very smart and learns fast. definitely not an idiot.”

you look to the boy to see him staring blankly at you, heart sinking in your chest; you’re becoming increasingly uncomfortable in this environment and a big part of it as to do with his attitude.

you weren’t expecting him to be overly excited, kiss your feet upon seeing you arrive or proclaim an irrational excitement. but it kind of seems as if, right now, he could care less that you’re here.

“ahh, that’s cool then,” soobin smiles. “you’re a year younger than us, right?”

you can only hum a small “mhm,” yeonjun’s gaze burning into your face causing you to look at him.

it’s the same soft, wide-eyed look you give him during your sessions but right now, it’s making him feel far too unsettled. like people seeing him with you are gonna show them a different side to him he has yet to acknowledge.

“why’d you decide to come?” he asks, not being able to stop the words; he already knows the answer, he basically begged you too.

and because you’ve been nothing but sweet and soft to him, he’s not surprised when you don’t throw it in his face that he’s the one who enforced this. that he studied for nights to pass that test so you’d feel inclined to come.

“i thought it’d be fun,” you say sweetly, i thought we’d be able to have fun outside of school like you claimed to have wanted. “i don’t really come to parties a lot.”

“i can’t imagine why, you seem really sweet and funny,” soobin says, a flirty smile on his face that makes a blush creep up on your cheeks; he’s so bold and confident, you don’t know both of them do it. “you should come to more.”

seeing that shade of pink on your cheeks from someone else angers yeonjun more than he cares to admit, throwing his friend a dirty look before growling at him to shut up.

“why? she’s sweet, isn’t she? maybe i need to be tutored too,” soobin says, throwing a smile your way as he plops down in the spot next to you. “what periods are you free? maybe we can go out for lunch and have a session.”

“i... i’m not allowed to leave for lunch.”

that’s a school rule - only seniors are allowed to leave for lunch. but with the way soobin laughs and yeonjun hold back a smirk, the other people littered around also letting out soft chuckles, it appears that’s something not many people follow.

“you can with me,” soobin assures, patting your knee softly as he sends another charming smile your way. “i’ll make sure you don’t get in trouble.”

you smile in an effort to downplay your embarrassment and discomfort, an annoyed sigh leaving yeonjun as he rises from his seat. he looks even more big and broad surrounded by these people for some reason, in his element where he fits in like a glove.

it’s even more evident that you don’t fit in here - at least in the library, that’s a place you belong. the quiet, the smell of books, the solidarity, a keen sense of-

“i’m getting another drink.”

yeonjun’s words are short and deep as he quickly gets up, hauling ass to the kitchen before anyone can even respond to him. his friend must see the look on your face too, a small pout on your lips that has the boy frowning next to you.

“don’t worry about him, he’s grouchy tonight,” soonbin says reassuringly, wrapping his arm around you affectionately. “some girl stood him up.”

the first thing you feel is a blow to your chest, an unfamiliar pain right in the center as you register soobin’s words; he begged you to come tonight but was waiting for another girl.

probably one of the many college girls, who are prettier and funnier and more charismatic than you.

so, really, you can’t be surprised. you were silly to think he liked you in the way you thought, in the way you’ve come to discover you like him because he makes you smile and laugh and feel warm inside.

but even so, you’re hurt.

you’re hurt and embarrassed and feel humiliated even though no one knows the real reason you came here and stepped way out of your comfort zone. thank god for that, you think, because it’d be even more horrible if people knew you came for yeonjun, all while he was waiting for someone else.

“oh,” you manage to squeak out, a soft look on your face despite the pain and embarrassment inside of you. “that’s too bad.”

“yeah,” soobin says, looking at you with sympathetic eyes you know you can’t trust. “he’ll be good, though.”

you bet he will, you think, because that’s just who choi yeonjun is. he doesn’t care who he strings along or makes believe is special - he’s gonna do what he wants when he wants it with no regard for how it effects other.

even a sweet little meek tutor he was able to get under his thumb the first day he met her.

when yeonjun returns, he can tell immediately that something is wrong with you. your hands are clasped together and you’re biting the inside of your cheek, fiddling nervously as you listen in on the conversation around you.

you meet his gaze and he’s quick to look away, one because he got caught and two because he doesn’t know if he can handle the look in your eye right now.

you’re always almost about to make him crack, break down into being someone worthy of you, and he doesn’t wanna do that tonight. doesn’t wanna show everyone here that, if he wants to, he can be a worthy person.

you’re a second away from breaking before soobin asks if you wanna dance, a tight smile on your face as you shake your head.

“i... i’m actually gonna go outside for a sec,” you say, knowing full well you’re gonna book it to your car and never return. “it’s hot in here. i need some air.”

“there’s plenty of air in here, angel,” soobin remarks, your eyes widening at the term.

it sounds different coming from his mouth, not as deep and melodic and it doesn’t let off a bunch of butterflies in your stomach. you’re too busy giggling softly as you shake your head that you don’t hear the deep, low noise of distaste leave yeonjun’s mouth.

you only see him grab soobin’s arm when he tries to get up to follow you, a lowly growled “let her go,” that makes your eyebrows pull together; you don’t know if he’s trying to hurt your feelings on purpose but he’s certainly doing it a lot tonight.

it feels like you can finally take a deep breath when you get outside, no one around except the chilly air and starry sky. it makes you feel a bit better, sinking down on the stairs and humming contently when your hands meet the cold concrete.

you passed by the dancing people and laughing, smiley couples inside and felt silly for coming here. silly for thinking yeonjun wanted you in his life without him getting something out of it.

what would he want from you anyway? what could you possibly give him when he’s already had so much better?

tears prick your eyes and you bury your face in your hands, taking deep calming breaths so the harsh winter air doesn’t feel like it’s burning you.

you avoided boys and feelings like this for so long and with good reason; you’re too sensitive and naive and always try to see the good in people.

you’ll put your feelings aside in order to spare someone else - you saw it in the beginning, pushing down your qualms about lying to the teacher to further appease a boy you found cute.

and when you put it like that, it sounds really fucking stupid. it sounds like, maybe, you’re just-

“didn’t i tell you you’re too pretty to cry over stupid things?”

your first instinct is to turn around when you hear his voice, his tall, dark figure looming behind you.

you should probably smile shyly or say that you’re not crying but you can only stay silent, turning back around to avoid his intense gaze and your own humiliation.

the same way he should probably go inside and carry on with his night the way he usually would. drinking and flirting and dancing before he probably brought someone home or into the bathroom.

when he moves behind you, that’s what you think he’s about to do.

but then he’s walking around your sitting frame and bending down to you, looking up at you from his crouched position. his hand reaches out to touch your face, forcing it up so you can only stare at him with teary eyes and flushed cheeks.

there’s a frown on his face as he runs his thumb across your cold cheek, his gentle touch a shocking contrast to his harsher appearance.

“what happened?”

what happened? you think, not used to feeling so snarky and hurt. what happened was that he got your hopes up, was nice to you and invited you and kept making you feel special, just for them to come crashing down.

but then the more you think about it, the silence between you getting longer and longer, the guiltier you feel - because your feelings aren’t his fault.

you taking his looks and kindness and lingering touches for something deeper was a mistake. you know the kind of boy he is and have still been foolish enough to fall for him.

“nothing,” you grumble, a wet, humorless laugh leaving you as you shake your head. “i’m just being silly.”

but you can’t look up from your feet, your eyes roaming the cracks in the concrete, and that’s how he knows you’re lying; that, and because he knows he was being a fucking dick.

but seeing you in this environment was weird for him. seeing people look at you and look at him, specifically soobin who got it out of him that he might like you, was unfamiliar for him.

the same way this was unfamiliar for you - which is why he wants you to talk to him.

“what happened, y/n?” he asks, voice a tad bit harsher and deeper as he cranes his neck down. he hears your harsh, nervous intake of breath and resists the urge to reach out and touch you.

you need to answer him before he can touch you.

but you never do. not after ten seconds and not after a minute, prompting him to let out a sigh and pop his neck to the side. your face pulls into a grimace at the crack that sounds through the air.

his cold hand touching your face causes you to jump, your eyes meeting and a lump forming in your throat; his eyes fool you too much and that’s exactly the problem here.

“talk to me, angel, c’mon.”

your eyes start to burn when a harsh wind passes, tears stinging your eyes and coldness rushing over your face. why does he have to keep calling you that? why does his voice have to sound so sincere and why does he have to look at you the way he is right now?

like he cares so much and hopes those tears aren’t because you’re sad.

“there’s nothing to talk about, yeonjun,” you blurt out, anger and humiliation seep into your tone before you can stop it. you let out a sigh as you try to get it together, taking a few calming breaths before shaking your head.

“just go back inside, okay? i’m going home. t-thank you for inviting me but i-”

“i don’t want you to go.”

he blurts the words so loud and fast, it even sounds a little awkward to your ears. but he sounds and looks almost desperate, your eyebrows pulling together and heart sinking as you take a deep breath.

because you know you can’t stop the next words from tumbling out of your mouth.

“well, it doesn’t seem like you want me here.”

your words are soft and quiet but they still physically pain his chest, his eyes roaming your face as he brings them to your cold cheeks. he wipes under your eye when wetness forms, the cold biting wind rushing around you both.

“i want you,” he reassures quietly, his voice just as low and gravely as he speaks hushly to you; he thinks it’s the most honest and true thing he’s ever said to someone. “i want you more than you know.”

“then why are you acting like that?” you question sweetly, the pout on your lips nearly making him groan and cover them with his. “you were being... mean. i felt like... you didn’t want me here at all. or didn’t want people to know you invited me.”

your words break his heart but he also knows they’re true, his fingers caressing your face gently. he notices then how freezing and red it is, looking you over and rising from his feet.

you look disappointed that he’s gonna leave, your face falling and eyebrows furrowing before he reaches his hand down to you.

“let’s talk in my car,” he clarifies, nodding his head toward his vehicle. “it’s freezing out here.”

you bite down on your lip, contemplating it for a few seconds before another harsh gust of wind passes. you let out a sigh as you take his hand, grateful to enter his car the moment you sit down.

he turns it on and the engine roars to life, his fingers reaching out to turn on your heated seat.

the next few moments only consist of the car’s engine warming up as you wait for the heat to kick on, you and yeonjun stealing glances back and forth at each other; you both miss the others gaze by a few seconds and if anyone were to be watching, it’d be obvious you both were nervous right now.

dancing along the line you’re both nervous to cross for entirely different reasons - you because you somehow don’t think he reciprocates those feelings and him because he knows you deserve more.

but in this moment, he decides he has to be selfish. watching you with a flush in your cheeks and your lip drawn into your mouth.

“i like you, y/n. that’s why i wanted you here,” his voice says, breaking the silence in a way that almost seems more terrifying. “but that’s also why i didn’t... want people knowing.”

your eyebrows pull together and immediately your mind goes to him being embarrassed. embarrassed that you’re younger and quiet and that no one really knows who the hell you are.

he’s infamous and cool and a senior, obviously he should be with someone similiar. like a popular girl in his grade or a college girl or maybe even a the girl who stood him up.

“not because of you, angel, but because of...”

“you?” you interrupt, a snark in your tone neither of you except; but you’ve heard this line one too many times, not expecting to ever ever hear it real life, let alone toward you.

“it’s not you, it’s me?” you ask, a gentle, faux smile on your face as you shake your head at him. “is that what you’re about to say?”

he clenches his jaw so he doesn’t smirk, resisting the urge to laugh as he looks you over carefully. it’s obvious your smile’s fake because it doesn’t meet your eyes, the teary glint in them every bit sad as they are frustrated.

but of course, you’re too sweet to treat him as he deserves.

his hand reaches out to grab your chin, his thumb and pointer finger on either side as he forces your gaze to his. his smirk comes through when he hears your sharp intake of breath, tongue peeking out to lick at his lips.

“if you let me talk, angel, you’d know what i was about to say,” he hums quietly, his breath fanning into your face at his closeness. it smells of mint and beer, it should probably be gross but surprisingly isn’t.

his words successfully stir you into silence, partially from fear and partially because the look in his eye has caused you to grow warm all over; and once he sees that, he begins to speak again.

“i didn’t want people knowing because i didn’t want anyone fucking with you, y/n. because if they did, i’d have to ruin them and then everyone would see it.”

“see what?” you ask quietly, the air between you thick and buzzing as you hold his gaze.

hold it so adamantly and intensely, you’re barely able to register him leaning closer. inch by inch by inch, until his lips are pressed against yours and you’re kissing choi yeonjun in the front seat of his car.

you’re stiff and awkward and don’t really know what to do but it’s fine because he laces his fingers in your hair and pulls you closer. parts your lips with his tongue which causes you to kiss him back with a slow, unsure pace.

but it only causes him to smile, retracting his tongue and keeping it sweet before he pulls back and rests his head on your forehead.

“why i decided to spend my free period during senior year getting fucking tutored, angel,” he chuckles lowly, his hand running through your hair gently.

the soft look in his eye causes you to swallow nervously, words caught in your throat as you stare at him wide-eyed.

“i... i thought you... you said it was...” you let out a shaky breath as you try to get your thoughts together, completely unable to remember your conversation from weeks ago. when he cryptically asked you your thoughts about just why he agreed to stop lying to the teacher and do the sessions;

so instead, your cheeks warm and you’re hit with the reminder that you just had your first kiss with him. and that you were probably absolutely terrible at it.

“that was my first kiss. i... i’m sorry if it was bad.”

a small smile crosses yeonjun’s face as he shakes his head at you, thumb dragging down your cheek gently to feel the warm, smooth skin of your cheek.

“it was perfect, angel, you’re perfect.” he mumbles, your eyes widening and heart stuttering as a ball forms in your throat. “so perfect that i thought you stood me up and weren’t coming. so let’s go on date. a real date, this time.”

in the beginning of the school year, you would’ve never imagined your study sessions with yeonjun would be turning into dinner dates; but as you sit in your room and get ready, your heart pounding and palms sweaty, that’s exactly what’s happened.

it’s the fourth date you guys are going on and you can officially say that you really, really have feelings for yeonjun. you’re still shy and nervous around him but it’s only because he’s more comfortable with you too.

he takes your hand with ease and laces your fingers together that he was meant to do that.

he’ll shamelessly peck a kiss to your lips and deepen it at any given time, your cheeks burning and embarrassed voice telling him to stop when he did it in the middle of the bowling alley last week.

he’ll watch you and smile at you and just touch you with the softest of intentions, you almost can’t believe this is the bad boy everyone claims is so mean and heartless.

you say almost because you still don’t do it in school. it’s still a somewhat... secret fondness you have for one another. he’ll play with your fingers under the table during sessions and wink at you in the hallway but that’s about it.

he’d probably never kiss you in the hallway or cafeteria but you also wouldn’t want that. it would draw way too much attention and probably leave your face with a permanent, embarrassing flush.

“are you going out?” you hear your mom ask, her head peeking in before a smile brightens her face. “aw, you look beautiful, y/n. yeonjun must be coming soon.”

the topic of dating had been undeniably embarrassing with your parents, mostly because they couldn’t believe you were showing an interest. but they welcomed yeonjun with open arms, insisting to meet him at the front door to ensure he was a nice boy.

and oh had he really showed you just how charming he could be.

“mom,” you whine in embarrassment, her laugh echoing in your room as he throws her arms up defensively.

“you guys be careful. it’s supposed to rain soon.”

you nod your head as you finish getting ready, smoothing over your hair once more before your phone vibrates against your desk. he texted you that he was on his way with a smiley face and heart, sending one back before looking at yourself in the mirror.

you don’t know what the hell he sees you or why he likes you but you know if you dwell on it, you’ll talk yourself out of everything. convince yourself that this is all a joke and he’s gonna turn around and say he pities you.

even though, when you brought this up to him, he was quick to calm those worries.

“c-can i ask you something, yeonjun?”

you were walking home from the movies with your hands intertwined.

the cold, harsh winter had blossomed into spring, the night air growing less frigid; there was a still a bit of a chill but it was nothing a jacket and yeonjun’s warm body couldn’t fix.

“of course, angel,” he mumbles lowly, a small smile on his face as you stop in your tracks. he’s quick to follow, eyebrow raising and body turning so he can look down at you.

he cocks his head to the side when you don’t speak for a few seconds, his lips falling into a pout as his hand tightens in yours.

“you okay?” he asks quietly, thumb tracing small circles into your skin.

you lick over your lips nervously, feeling silly for the need to ask this question but it’s one you can’t help. it wracks your mind over and over again and it feels like you’re about to-

“why do you like me?” you blurt out, unaware you even said the words until you notice yeonjun’s face morph into one of surprise.

his mouth opens and closes for a moment, brows pulled together as he tries to make sense of your words.

“i mean, what’s not to like?” he asks softly, taking you by the hips and pulling you closer to him.

you’re in the middle of the sidewalk but there’s no one around, the sky dark and streets desolate as you both meet each others gazes - yours full of doubt and his full of confusion.

“i... i don’t know,” you mumble sheepishly, looking down at your intertwined hands. “i just... it doesn’t really make sense.”

“why? because i’m older? because you’re smart and i’m not?” he teases, your panicked eyes immediately meeting his.

“no! more like the exact opposite,” you clarify as you shake your head. “because you’re popular and attractive and charming and i’m just.... not.”

his eyes roam your face and his heart sinks when he sees the doubt and nerves continue to grow. how you really feel this way about yourself and are pondering the idea that someone like him would want someone like you, when really, it should be the opposite.

“y/n, i’m lucky that you’re settling for me,” the pink-haired boy laughs out, squeezing your hips reassuringly. “you’re good and sweet and so fucking beautiful. i wanted you the second i saw you, you know, but knew i shouldn’t.”

your eyes widen at his words, shock behind them that has a laugh bubbling from his chest.

“in lunch. i noticed you the first day and thought you were an angel,” he says, the nickname he always calls you particularly getting the butterflies going tonight.

“i could tell that you were good. you just have this.. aura, y/n, and i knew that i would taint it. i knew you deserved someone way better. because i’m not good like you.”

"yes you are,” you respond immediately, a frown appearing on your face as you shake your head. “you pretend not to be, but you are, yeonjun. i can see it.”

“you can see it because i wanna be good around you, baby. i wanna be someone good for you.”

tears prick your eyes as a lump forms in your throat, overwhelmed and unsure of how to respond to that. he smiles softly as he takes in your face, leaning forward to press his lips against your forehead.

he inhales your sweet, vanilla smell while you take in his cologne and faint scent of cigarettes, swallowing down the lump and praying you don’t burst into tears on the spot.

“don’t doubt yourself, angel,” yeonjun mumbles against your head, puling you closer until your flush against his warm, broad body. “i’m the one who got lucky here.”

even though it meant wasting away in the fucking library.

“the library isn’t that bad, yeonjun,” you whine ten minutes later in his car, heat blasting and music low as he drives to the restaurant. one hand’s on the steering wheel while the other’s laced with yours, your body turned in his black leather seat to look over and chastise him.

he confessed to you that your sessions were the first time he’d ever stepped foot in that library; he hadn’t even been positive that school had a library until he walked through the door that day.

“it smells like dust and the librarian’s a bitch.”

“she is not!” you squeal, smacking his arm lightly as you throw him a chastising look. “she’s just a little... misunderstood. people don’t respect her space.”

even you can admit sometimes she does go a little overboard; you saw her once lecture a younger student for a half hour because they mistakenly put a book on the wrong shelf.

“you’re too nice, baby. maybe even a little biased, since you’re the only one she seems to tolerate.”

“probably because i’m there every day,” you tease lightly, your eyes widening playfully before a loud crack of thunder causes you to jump in your seat.

your mom hadn’t been kidding when she said there was gonna be a storm tonight. you’d ran to yeonjun’s car shielding the top of your head, rain pelting down and wind howling as your mom’s “be careful!” got drowned out.

and right now, it only seemed to be getting worse.

“you scared of thunder?”

you hear the smirk in yeonjun’s voice and resist the urge to stick your tongue out, not about to admit that, yes, you’re nearly an adult but still terrified of rain and thunder.

“no, of-of course not,” you grumble, snatching your hand away from his. “it just surprised me.”

yeonjun looks over at you and sees the nervousness all your face, not commenting as he silently snatches your hand back. he intertwines your fingers as he raises your hand to his mouth, pressing his lips against it while he drives through the rain.

it’s getting considerably heavier by every second, his foot pressing off the gas every time he drives past a puddle.

“i used to be scared of the rain, you know.”

you look over at him and see him looking peacefully at the road, pink strands of hair hanging in his face.

“oh, yeah? when you were like five?”

“twelve,” he corrects with a smile, doing his best to distract you from the chaos outside. “i used to wake up crying, sometimes. i know that’s hard to believe now. because i’m so cool and what not.”

“oh please,” you giggle out, the sweet sound filling the car also distracting him from the pounding of rain and crackling of thunder; he’s outgrown his fear of storms but even he can admit this one is a little bit scary right now.

“what, you don’t think? i’ll have you know-”

the skidding of his tires mixed with your frightened screams is the next thing he hears, a strangled “yeonjun!” in the background as he attempts to take control of his car.

there’s the boom of thunder and lightning and loud blares of horns before everything goes still, his body acting on auto pilot as he safely pulls off on the side of the highway.

his first concern isn’t damage to his car or the heightening storm outside - it’s you in his passenger seat, eyes closed tight and tears on your face.

“are you okay?” yeonjun’s voice frantically asks, barely able to feel the sensation of his his warm hands on your face. your heart’s pounding and your hands are shaking and for a moment, you thought you were about to die.

your eyes pop open to meet his and the concern in them only makes your eyes water more, bottom lip trembling as you nod your head.

but even though you’re nodding he sees you’re not. he sees you trying to catch your breath and your eyes looking back and forth nervously outside.

“hey, hey, angel. it’s okay. i’m here,” he hums lowly, his thumbs running over your face soothingly. “i’m here and you’re okay.”

you attempt to catch and slow your breaths as your eyes never leave his, his only leaving you to quickly assess you for injuries.

“i know that was scary. i’m sorry. i should’ve been more careful.”

“it wasn’t your fault,” you squeak out, swallowing the knot in your throat as you shake your head. your eyes roam his and you pout when there’s guilt and sorrow in his eyes, your own hand snaking down to hold his hand.

“are you okay?”

his eyes soften as he cups your face and brings you to closer to him, a quiet “yes, baby,” leaving his mouth before he places his lips on your forehead.

you breathe in his scent and he breathes in yours, not allowing himself to pull away until he feels you relax under him.

“i’m gonna drive us to my house, okay?” he says, his eyes back on you looking cautious. “we can order food. i just don’t want us driving in this if it’s gonna get worse.”

you nod your head before reaching down to grasp one of his hands tightly, his small smile meeting you before he carefully pulls back onto the highway.

the storm gets substantially worse as he makes his way to his house, hand grasping yours tightly as he drives slow and steady.

he’s flooded with relief when he finally pulls in his driveway, running around the passenger side door to help you out. his hand doesn’t leave the small of your back until you’re in his room, a big space with white walls and black furniture that doesn’t surprise you in the slightest.

contrary to most teenage boy’s rooms, his smells really good. like a mix of his cologne, laundry detergent and a distinct smell you’ve just deemed as his natural scent.

it’s comforting and makes you feel at ease, licking over your lips nervously as you realize this is the first time you’ve been in a boy’s room.

“you want anything to drink?”

“i...i’m good,” you say, sitting on his bed as you look around.

there’s no decor on the walls except for a large flat screen tv across from his bed and above his dresser, a pile of clothes off to the side.

“sorry, i didn’t expect to have anyone over so it’s a little messy.”

you look over at him sitting beside you, a sheepish smile on his face. you think it’s the first time he’s ever sounded somewhat... nervous and out of his comfort zone.

maybe because he knows you’ve never been in this situation before.

“it’s okay, i like your room,” you smile, spreading your fingers out across his soft, dark comforter. “it’s very fitting.”

“oh yeah?” he smirks, inching closer to you and making your heart speed up. “and why’s that?”

there’s that dark playfulness you’re so used to seeing swarming behind his eyes, just as teasing as it is intense that makes you hold back a squeak. he quirks his eyebrow as he moves closer, pink tongue peeking out to roll over his lips.

you can’t help when your eyes fall to them, missing the feel of them on yours.

you two haven’t gone past making out, a clash of tongues and teeth that have you quietly moaning into his mouth. but when your body acts on its own accord, pushing yourself closer to him or grasping at the bottom of his shirt, he always stops you.

“what are you doin’ baby?”

you were in his car after a tutoring session, the parking lot of the school completely deserted. your cheeks flush and you immediately draw your hands back, lowering your head slightly as embarrassment took over.

“i...i thought that was...don’t you wanna...”

because clothes come off, that’s how it starts - you know that much.

and you can feel how much he wants to go further, the hardness under you that scared you at first now the thing begging you to go further.

you feel wanted and desired and even though you’re scared, you want to go further.

“we don’t have to do anything, baby. this is fine,” he says softly, his hand reaching up to cup your cheek.

“but i want to,” you mumble, not even sure if he can hear your words because of how quiet you are.

you know he must though because he draws his fingers under your chin to lift your face, eyes heavy of fondness and arousal making your stomach flutter more.

your first instinct is to assume he doesn’t want you - why else would he stop you? but you can see in his eyes that he does...right? because it really does look like that.

what other reason would he have to stop you though? maybe he just doesn’t-

“whatever you’re thinking is probably wrong,” yeonjun mutters, tightening his hold on you and bringing you closer to him. “i don’t wanna go further with you while we’re in the car, angel. you deserve more than that.”

“hm?” you hear him hum, ripping you from your memories.

you look from his lips to his eyes watching you with lust, the beginnings of your nonsense words cut off when he kisses you.

your heart flutters and stomach swoops immediately, kissing back with an embarrassing amount of fervor. he smirks against your lips as he pulls you on his lap, your arms circling around his shoulders.

his tongue traces your bottom lip before you feel it in your mouth, daringly meeting his back in a way you’d never done before. it causes him to bring his hands to your hips, squeezing and massaging them with his large hands.

“look at you,” he mutters almost condescendingly, falling back onto his bed and causing you to squeal. you’re holding yourself above him and his eyebrow is quirked, red lips puffy and pink hair messy causing your heart to flutter mercilessly.

“if i didn’t know any better, baby, i’d think you’re real eager tonight.”

you bite down on your lip as you adjust yourself on him, your hips straddling his and brushing over him. your building heat is right under him and it takes everything in you not to moan at just the thought, his hands strong and firm.

and just as you’re about to answer, tell him that, yes, even though you’re not familiar with.... any of this, you’re eager and ready, your stomach growls and ruins the moment.

it causes a smile to light up his face, a deep chuckle leaving him before he flips you over. he’s hovering above you now, no parts of your bodies touching except for his hand a few inches away from your head.

“or you’re hunger, my mistake, angel,” he says with a smirk, pressing a peck to your nose sweetly. “what do you want?”

you spend the next hour laying in his bed waiting for the pizza, the storm just as wild outside as it was when you were in the car. you bit down on a squeal threatening to leave your mouth every time there was a terrifying boom, your body shimming closer to yeonjun’s.

he smiled against your head and welcomed your body closer, bringing your head to his chest.

“you’re cute,” you hear him mumble, the swooping in your stomach causing you to feel warm.

you look up at him and smile shyly, tucking your head closer into his chest. you have to hide your growing smile when you feel his lips brush your head, deep content hums leaving his chest.

the doorbell ringing rips you two apart, his mumbled “i’ll be right back,’ causing you to sit up. you brush your fingers through your hair as you sit up, looking around his dark room and feeling something brewing in your stomach.

you feel every bit as nervous as you do excited and eager in his room with him right now.

it’s still scary because you’re new to this. because you’ve never done anything like this before and you know you don’t know what you’re doing.

but a part of you wants to kiss him on his bed. go further than he’s allowed you to because if he only didn’t want to be with you in the car, this should solve that problem, right?

you’ve never felt as desired and warm as you have with him these past months. no one��s ever looked at you the way he does or have made you feel the way he does.

you’re usually too scared or uneasy to talk to people or form a connection; but from the moment you met him, you were able to do that. a part of you just felt inclined to help him, be a person that he knows would be there for him even if it meant in the form of helping him study or motivate him.

you never would’ve expected for him to reciprocate your feelings. nor would you have expected to be in this current situation, want and need bubbling in your stomach at the thought of yeonjun doing-

“pizza’s here,” yeonjun says, popping his head through the door holding a box of pizza.

you smile upon seeing it, your stomach growling at the smell; if he hears it, he doesn’t say anything. just walks over and places the box on his bed, offering you a slice that you take immediately.

“thank you,” you squeak, bringing the food to your mouth.

he watches you for a few seconds, suddenly all too aware of him looking at you. you raise an eyebrow as you chew, a shy look coming over your face that causes him to smile.

“what?”

“nothing,” he says, shaking his head as he takes out his own slice. “my mom called me and said they can’t come home tonight because of the storm.”

you take the time to chew your food as you take in his words, the fluttering in your stomach a mix of nerves and excitement.

“oh.”

“yeah...” he hums, his eyes roaming your face; he doesn’t want his next suggestion to make you uncomfortable but he also thinks it would be best. for both of you.

“and i don’t know if i should drive you home, angel. it’s supposed to get really bad. do you... wanna stay over?”

there’s a lump in your throat for all the reasons there shouldn’t be.

not because this is your first time sleeping over a boy’s house or the fact that his parents aren’t home. or because you’re gonna have to call your mom and say you’re sleeping over a friend’s house.

or even because you don’t know what to expect tonight.

it’s only there because you know, in a new form of acting on your deeper desires and not suppressing yourself to just being some innocent girl, you wanna get railed.

“i... i guess i can do that,” you say, some nervousness still behind your voice because when it comes down to it, you’re unfamiliar with this situation.

“well yeah, but do you want to, baby?” he asks with a small smirk, his hand reaching up to toy with your hair.

his long fingers run through the strands before tucking them behind your ear, his hand slinking down to rest on your neck.

“if you don’t feel comfortable, i’ll take you home later,” he says, thumb running across your skin slowly. breath catches in your throat when he leans closer to you, his lingering scent and broadness causing you to bite down on your lip.

“i just thought it’d be nice to lay with you tonight. or wake up with you.”

“or let us go further since we’re not in the car.”

you don’t know who’s more shocked by your words but you know you’re definitely more embarrassed, a rampant blush crossing your cheeks as you attempt to hide in his shoulder.

he’s quick to pull you away with a small “tsk,” the smirk on his lips quickly widening despite the soft look in his eyes.

you bite back the noise threatening to leave your mouth when he wraps his hand around you hair, the slightest of stings ripping through your scalp when he pulls you forward.

“go further?” he asks lowly, his eyes peering down at you only making you feel more warm and flustered.

words are caught in your mouth and you can’t find it in you to say anything. not only because you’re too embarrassed but you don’t even know what to say.

you know you want more than kissing and that there’s always a building pressure between your legs when he pulls you on his lap.

you know on more than one occasion, you’ve wanted his hands that’d rest on your hips to go just a little further down. slip in the waistband of your pants and meet the wetness and heat through your underwear.

you’ve wanted to see his pink hair between your legs as you experience getting eaten out of the first time, holding back moans in the crease of your elbow as his tongue explores every inch of you.

you know you want to look up at him with tears in your eyes and a heaving chest, ask if you can please suck him off because you’ve also never done that before.

he can see the arousal and lust clouding your eyes the more the silence elapses, his cock quickly hardening as he takes in the sight of you on his bed ready for him to take you.

it’s just a matter of how and when he’s gonna. how and when you tell him like the good girl he knows you are.

“how much further are you thinking, angel?” his deep voice finally asks, successfully breaking the silence and building the thick tension.

you let out a breathy exhale when he pushes you on your back, the knot in your stomach tightening as he looks down at your body.

“what do you want me to do, huh?” he asks, the smirk and feeling in his chest growing when he sees you start to breathe heavily on his bed. your legs are nearly shaking from the build up in pressure, your tongue licking over your dry lips.

“i... yeonjun...”

he bites back the groan threatening to leave his mouth at you moaning his name, holding himself above your body as he hand spays out against your stomach.

“why are you moaning my name baby? i haven’t even done anything.”

“but... but i want you to. so bad.”

your voice is whiny and pathetic but it’s all it takes for him to snap, his hand moving from your stomach to between your legs.

he can feel the heat and pulse of your pussy and has to suppress his own groan again, completely getting off on the feeling that you, the innocent little tutor he’s been wanting to ruin since he saw you last year, is laid out on his bed and dripping just for him.

“please, yeonjun,” you whine again, completely out of your mind with lust when you feel his hand on you.

he bites down on his lip before he starts gently running his hand over you, barely putting any pressure on you. he’s just relishing in the how only that makes you spread your legs immediately, hips bucking up closer to his hand.

he pulls his hand away and pins your hips to the bed, his face hovering above yours before you can even whine again.

“be patient, angel. or this isn’t gonna work,” he growls lowly, his thumbs running over your pants gently.

“i- i’m sorry,” you gasp out, tears pricking your eyes because this feeling is so new and foreign and overwhelming. “i just... i’m so...”

“you’re so what?”

“i want you,” you say immediately, thinking back to your conversation with him outside of soobin’s house. when the words you’re telling him now are the same ones he told you. “i want you more than you know.”

a scoff leaves his mouth when you say that, remembering those words leaving his own mouth that night.

but the difference here is, he thinks, is that you really didn’t know that.

you didn’t know how just sitting there and smiling at him and talking to him so sweetly was making him want you. your soft smiles and vanilla scent and the wide-eyed look you’d always innocently give him.

but he’s aware of how much you want him, in this moment. he can feel it, smell it, see it. he knows just how much you want him because he wants you the same way.

your pants and underwear are off in one shot, a gasp leaving your mouth when you realize you’re completely bare in front of him.

he’s quick to look at your face to see if you’re okay, that teary wide-eyed look and teeth sinking in your lip greeting him; another whiney and mumbled “touch me,” leaves your mouth before he can ask.

a smile lights up his face that makes your heart jump even through this all, a teasing look in his eye even through the arousal and painful hardness in his pants.

“say please, angel.”

“please touch me, yeonjun. please.”

his fingers are on your clit right after the words leave you, your mouth hanging open and legs spreading when you’re immediately filed with a sense of some relief.

“you’re so wet for me, angel. how long have you wanted this, huh?”

you babble out something you can’t even hear through your pounding ears but it must be something good and polite enough because you feel a finger enter you a few seconds later.

he hisses at the tightness around his finger and has to remember to be gentle with you, fingering you slowly and sweetly as he toys at your clit.

“you’re doing so good, baby. so good for me.”

you cry out a moan that has his fingers moving quicker, curling them just right before you scream out his name; you’ve never ever felt anything like this before.

“yeonjun, oh, my god.”

“i know, baby, it’s okay,” he says, allowing his fingers to work over you and in you for a few seconds before he forces himself to remove them. your head shoots up and the sight almost makes him smile, a frustrated look in your teary eyes that has him cocking his head.

“why did you-”

the fingers just inside you are below your chin, the slickness of his fingers on your skin making you widen your eyes. is that... is he about to make you...

you hold back another moan when you watch him raise his fingers to his own mouth, his eyes rolling back when he tastes you. you don’t know if you’re a little grossed out or even more turned on but you think it must be the latter if the way your legs start to shake again and your lower stomach tightens.

“you taste so fucking sweet, angel. can i eat your pussy?”

he could tell how scared you were when you first got here, not seeing a hint of that fear now but still needing to check before he pulls you on his face and has his way with you.

“y-yes, please, yeonjun, oh my-”

you can’t even get the words out before his hands are taking off your shirt, removing the straps of your bra and pushing them down until your boobs pop out.

perky nipples spring into the air and he can’t stop the groan that leaves him, circling his tongue around each of them before he tells you to unhook it. your eyes meet his for just a few seconds before you reach out to take it off, quickly throwing it on the floor before you, without thinking, cover yourself.

his eyes flash and he immediately snaps out of his trance, placing his hands on your arms but not attempting to move them.

“what are you doing, angel?”

and it’s at this moment, something as silly as him seeing your chest completely naked, that you’re feeling insecure.

you know he’s been with girls before this, college girls who definitely have bigger boobs than you and know what they’re doing. girls who are prettier and sexier and don’t blush or whine at the slightest hint of his touch of them.

“i... i know you’ve been with prettier girls before. an-and i don’t think they’re that nice.”

“angel, i don’t know if i’ve gotten this across enough but you’re the most beautiful girl i’ve ever met,” he says, the sweetest words to ever leave his mouth not even making him blink.

because he needs you to know in this moment that you are. he can’t stand the insecure, fearful look in your eye that he’s not gonna find you desirable because you’re comparing yourself to other people.

“that’s a lie,” you weakly mumble out, tears stinging your eyes because this is so stupid. now you’re ruining the moment and he’s not gonna wanna do this with you. you’re proving just how inexperienced and unfamiliar you are with-

“i don’t lie.”

your eyebrow raises and he can’t help but smirk, the realization that your whole relationship started off lying to your teacher making him let out a deep chuckle.

“i mean i don’t lie to you, angel, i would never lie to you,” he says, reaching down to press a long kiss on your lips. it’s the most intimate kiss you’ve ever had with him, mouths parting on one another like you’re trying to get all your worries and reassurances out on one another.

him that you’re just as desirable as he knows you are and you that you really don’t know what you’re doing but you wanna do this with him.

“you’re beautiful, baby, and if anyone’s not worthy of the other, it’s me.”

his words make your eyebrows pull together, the look in his eye one you’ve never seen before. probably the most vulnerable and honest you’ve seen him look at you.

“but i’m gonna do my best to be, angel, so please... don’t think that,” he says, pulling your arms away from your chest.

he feels relief flood through him when you allow him to do say, his head dipping again to place small pecks on your chest before taking another nipple in his mouth.

he moans around you at the same time you do, throwing your head back against his pillow. your fingers lace through the back of his pink hair and you feel your pussy clenching around nothing, moaning out his name when his tongue carefully and slowly licks around the other neglected one.

“you also have the sweetest pussy i’ve ever tasted,” he mumbles around your nipple, swirling his tongue around it one more time before grabbing your hips and throwing himself on his back.

“so sit on my face, angel. now.”

you have no time to feel hesitant or insecure because, one, he pulls you up before you can do anything else and two, you’re far too eager to feel this for the first time.

his tongue latching onto your clit causes you to moan out his name, trying your best to not buck your hips against his face. but his tongue feels like it’s everywhere, flicking at it your clit and up inside you and quickly making your legs shake around him.

your hazy eyes look down and you see his own looking up at you, a hot arousal in them as you cover the rest of his face with your body. pink strands stick to his forehead and you bite down on your lip so you don’t scream, your eyes rolling back when he eats you out like a man starved.

he’s moaning against you and pulling you closer to his face, your hips bucking into his mouth as you whine out his name over and over.

you’re so out of it and dazed with arousal and need that you don’t even think twice when an idea pops into your head.

you buck your hips a tad harder than usual that he disconnects his mouth from you, about to ask if he hurt you somehow before you flip over on his face. your body leans over his stomach until your mouth is by the tight groin of his sweatpants, clumsily slipping down his boxers until his cock springs free.

it’s hard and red and looks completely neglected, screaming to be relieved by you.

so even though you have no idea what you’re doing, only guided by works of fiction and things you hear in the hallway, you wrap your mouth around the head of his cock.

you hear him growl at your name but only continue to suck him off, your tongue circling around him as your mouth moves up and down. you smile when he moans against your pussy just so moan around his a few seconds later, like he knew you were smiling against him at hearing that noise leave him.

he didn’t think he could get any harder than he already was but you continue to impress him and prove him wrong, his mouth working quicker on you to aid in his growing arousal.

a loud moan of your name leaves his mouth when you deep throat him, a growled “fuck,” against your wetness that makes you whine against him.

“i wanna fuck your mouth so badly,” he growls against you, wrapping his tongue around your clit just as you let out a strangled “please.” but he only shakes his head and continues his vigorous assault, sticking two fingers inside you that causes your scream to be muffled around his cock.

“you’re gonna come first, angel. i want you to come on my fucking face.”

and even though he already seemed to know it from the moment he met you, he sees that what he wants from you, he’s always gonna get.

your lower stomach tightens before a feeling of euphoria consumes you, your legs shaking and hips bucking before an orgasm rips right through you. your head is leant against his head as you try to catch your breath, whining slightly when he pulls you off of him.

he lays you down gently on the bed before placing a kiss to your cheek.

“you did so good, angel. how do you feel?”

“mmm.. that was the best thing i’ve ever felt.”

a deep laugh leaves him at your sleepy, dazed look, taking his shirt off so he can dab at your wet legs. you wince a little at the sensitivity and he mumbles an apology, laying on his back and opening his arms to you.

“lay with me, baby.”

a small smile crosses your face as you fall into his bare chest, sighing contently with your head resting over his chest. you can hear his heartbeat against your ear and feel his lips against your head, his fingers running over your arm slowly.

you’ve never been more comfortable and at ease than you are in this moment. even with the storm raging outside and the unknown parts of your relationship still coming, you feel happy.

happy and safe and so stupidly content.

“angel?”

you look up at him when you hear his voice break the silence, your chin against his chest as you meet his gaze.

he smiles upon seeing you, his hand coming up to pat down your messy hair.

“i like you. a lot.”

you bite down on your lip to hide your growing smile, daringly taking the first move to press a sweet peck on his lips.

“i like you, too. a lot, a lot,” you giggle out, the pink on your cheeks making his heart squeeze in his chest. “but i think you already knew that.”

“i was hoping,” he hums lowly, bringing you back into his chest. you smile against him as you inhale his scent, moving your body closer to him until you feel your leg hit a hard, fleshy piece of skin.

your eyes widen and pulse quickens when you see he’s still hard and aching, the content look on his face completely disregarding it.

“yeonjun...” you mumble, shamelessly staring at his dick a few inches from your leg.

he peeks an eye open and sees you staring down at it, a sheepish smile crossing his face; he looks a tad embarrassed and you shouldn’t find it as endearing as you do.

“sorry. it’ll go down eventually.”

eventually being when he gets up to go to the bathroom and jerks himself off. because there’s no way in hell he’s gonna go flaccid with you all naked and cuddled against him.

“you mean you’re not gonna fuck me?”

his eyes widen and cock twitches when those words leave your mouth, his hand falling to your jaw so you can look at him. his eyes roam your face when he sees the heavy desire building in your wide-eyed gaze, the perfect contrast of sweet and lustful that has him holding back a groan.

“where did you learn to talk like this?” he hums lowly in your ear.

you smirk against him before you bring your hand up to his mouth, his eyes searching yours. but you’re only staring back just as intensely, rubbing yourself against his leaking cock laying between you.

“spit on it, please.”

he can’t even stop his groan from leaving him this time, painfully hard and ready to bust. you learned so fast what he likes and that’s when you’re both polite and eager.

“baby girl,” he moans, bringing his face down to place a messy, dominating kiss on yours. he pulls your mouths apart after allowing his tongue to explore your mouth, a string of spit connecting your lips.

his eyes fall to your mouth before he’s tipping your head back, your hand clutching onto his shoulder and tightening when, suddenly, he spits in your mouth.

your eyes widen but he smirks before you can say anything, wordlessly bringing your hand to his mouth and spitting on it as you so requested. you let out a shaky sigh, eyeing him warily before he gives you a nod.

it’s only then that you wrap your hand around his cock, watching as his eyes flutter shut and he leans his head back.

“there u go, angel,” he hums lowly, your hand twisting over the tip before exploring down.

he can feel your hesitance and unsureness but it only makes it that much more enjoyable for him, knowing this is the first time you’ve done this - although he does wonder how you knew to spit on it first.

his words spur you on and you wet your hand again, twisting and turning on every ridge of his cock. his moans of your name cause wetness to gather between your legs, your eyes meeting his to see them right on you.

“please fuck me, yeonjun.”

you didn’t have to ask him twice before he pushed you on your back. he fumbled to take his sweatpants off fully, discarding them on the floor before pulling you toward the end of bed.

you look down at him with furrowed eyebrows before a loud gasp leaves you, his mouth back on your pussy before he slides two fingers in. he preps you again until you’re coming around him, his mouth hot around you while his fingers are curled and relentless.

“p-please, yeonjun. i wanna- feel you.”

“and you will, angel, i promise,” he says, pressing one last kiss to your swollen, wet clit before going up to your face. “you’ve never done this before, right?”

he knows it and you know it but he still needs to ask. needs to know he’s gonna be the first person to take you and ruin you.

“no,” you immediately respond, shaking your head as tears well up in your eyes.

he responds by smiling, placing one last long kiss on your mouth before cupping your face gently.

“it might hurt, okay? i’ll go as slow as you need.”

you nod your head as you relax on your back, looking down to see him positioning himself between your legs. he swirls the tip of his dick around your wet clit and opening, watching as your dripping hole tries to suck him in.

“holy fuck,” he growls out, “you’re so wet, baby. it’s gonna feel so fucking good.”

you whine unintelligible words but he knows to just soothe you. bring his hand to your waist and rub slowly as he promises to be in you soon.

the stretch at first in painful and unfamiliar, your face pulled into a grimace despite the deep groan leaving him.

“oh, angel,” he growls lowly, his dark eyes meeting yours to see your face twisted in pain. “are you okay? does it hurt?”

“y-yes, but it’s okay. just... slow,” you say quietly, nodding your head reassuringly.

he hovers over your face as he inches himself in further and further, your breaths shaky and body tense as the pain worsens.

“i’m sorry, baby, you’re doing so good.”

you nod your head and he kisses away the tears, a sigh of relief leaving you when he stops moving. he’s still inside you for a few seconds, allowing your tight walls to adjust around him before he starts moving.

it takes a few thrusts for the burning pain to subside, replaced by a full, warm feeling that had you moaning quietly into the air.

“does it feel good now, baby?” you hear yeonjun ask, his thrusts speeding up as his body lays over you. “do you like my cock in you?”

“y-yes,” you mumble out, throwing your legs around his waist.

he growls lowly as he starts fucking into you, keeping his pace steady and just hard enough to make you lose your mind; because he doesn’t wanna hurt you but you also feel so good, he can’t help but chase after his orgasm.

“tell me you’re mine.”

“i-i’m yours, yeonjun,” you whimper out, his hand coming down to your clit making you cry out again. “i’m yours. yours, yours, yours,” you repeat dumbly, having no sense of control over yourself as an immense pleasure builds inside you.

he thrusts into you hitting a certain spot that has a scream leaving your mouth, a sadistic smirk on his face.

“that’s right, angel. you’re mine. you’ve been mine ever since i saw you last year,” he growls lowly, remembering the first time he saw you and knew you were gonna somehow effect him like this.

“i wanted to ruin you then, baby, because i knew you’d be mine.”

“yeonjun,” you whine, thrusting your hips into him at his words. remembering all the times he caught you staring at him. all the times you’d watch him and thought about how handsome he was.

how someone like him would never want someone like you.

but he wants you and you want him and it’s still something you can’t quite believe. you know you’re both different but it seems to be something that works, him bringing you out of your comfort zone and you making him wanna be someone better.

“i’m gonna come, angel,” he grunts out, “i’m gonna fucking come. come with me.”

you feel the knot in your stomach unravel before you’re both moaning each other’s names, chests heaving and his breathing harsh as he holds himself lazily above you.

he drops his head into the crook of your neck, attempting to catch his breath despite the feeling of your post orgasm spazzing around him.

the pounding takes a few seconds to subside, a final moan leaving him before he pulls out of you.

he’s quick to collapse onto his back, hanging his arm off the bed lazily as he searches for his shirt.

he cleans you up a few moments later, watching you with a small smile before he pulls you down onto him again.

“how was that?” he mumbles quietly, his eyes closed and head resting atop yours.

“really good,” you mumble back, your own eyes closed as you attempt to catch your breath. you still feel a little sticky but it’s not something you mind in this moment, your post orgasm daze leaving you content.

it could be the post orgasm daze making you say the next words that leave your mouth. on such a high of emotions and endorphins and utter contentment that the warm feeling in your chest if confused.

or maybe it’s the months of getting to know the boy beside you who had such a bad reputation. who you were terrified of at first and thought was mean an scary, thought for sure he was gonna find you weird and nerdy.

but you’ve never felt more wanted or desired by another person. no one’s ever looked at you the way he’s looked at you before or made you feel the way he’s made you feel.

“i... i think i love you, yeonjun.”

love had always scared yeonjun and especially hearing a confession like that after sex - it had always been his worst nightmare and, truthfully, an embarrassing moment.

but he’s never felt as listened to and comforted by someone else ever in his life before. someone who, from the second he met them, trusted him and thought of him to be good and smart and capable.

he didn’t know why and he didn’t know what he did for you to think of him that way but he knows he’s never gonna take it for granted. because from the second he saw you, he really did know you were gonna be his.

“i think i might love you, too, angel.”

#hello my first txt fic #pls look forward to it #also use protection <3 jdfkvks #yeonjun #yeonjun fluff #yeonjun angst #yeonjun smut #txt fluff #txt angst #txt smut #yeonjun scenarios #yeonjun imagines #txt scenarios #txt imagines

5K notes · View notes

jungkxook · 4 years ago

Text

—make it right. (m)

⟶ pairing: jungkook x reader

⟶ genre: punk!jungkook / band au / exes-to-lovers au / angst / smut

⟶ words: 11,528

⟶ rating: 18+

⟶ summary: you’re wholeheartedly, madly in love with jungkook and yet you shouldn’t be because it’s been almost a year since you broke up with him. worst part of it all is that you know he’s still in love with you too

⟶ warnings: jungkook has a tongue piercing, oral sex because of said tongue piercing (fem!recieving), more tattooed and long haired jungkook to feed my fantasies, angsty pining clingy sex, also just general soft sex, crying sex lol, riding, creampie, slight praise kink themes, unprotected sex

⟶ disclaimer: here’s my one year blog anniversary present inspired by the first ever fic i posted on here! yes this is technically a sequel to melomaniac but not really. sort of like an alternate universe to the alternate universe but you don’t really have to read one or the other to understand the other. so, i hope you enjoy!

⟶ this is part of the melodrama tour series!

You swear you’re over Jungkook.

In fact, you would even go so far as to say you hate him ━ but you know that’s not true. It’s just that it’s much easier to believe that if you tell yourself you hate him enough times, then maybe you’ll find a way to fix your broken heart, and the pain in his absence won’t hurt so bad.

As it turns out, it hardly works.

Seven months since he had left you to travel the world with his band, basking in promised eternal glory and fame and money, and yet even miles and oceans away from where you stand, he’s all you can think about. There’s a myriad of reasons as to why trying to forget him was an useless endeavour. The hardships of trying to forget a cherished life-long friendship you had grown accustomed to was one of them, and those lingering happy moments you had shared with him as lovers however fleeting they may be was another. But then there was the ever present fact that Jungkook and his band were so quick to rise to fame, their names far exceeding the seemingly cramped and small city you had both reigned from, and suddenly the boy you had known forever, and everything special that makes him, was now being shared to hundreds of millions of adoring fans.

You were certain it was all Jungkook ever wanted, the added attention and the pretty girls fawning over him, because he had always been a casanova in many ways despite always promising you that you were the only one for him even before you had started dating. You had told him it wouldn’t work ━ I trust you as my best friend, you had said in a moment of despair, grasping at straws. I don’t have to worry about you breaking my heart. But I don’t know if I can trust you as my boyfriend ━ far before he and his band had been signed to their record label and paraded around the world, when they were still practicing in rented storage units and friends’ garages and rundown local studios, playing gigs anywhere and everywhere from dingy bars to college campus parties, supporting him every step of the way if only because he was your best friend, and he had been so persistent that it would work, chasing after you even when you tried to push him away. I would treat you right, he had urged so ardently late one drunken night after stumbling back to his apartment. I already practically worship the ground you walk on.

And how could you ━ who had already been so madly in love with him but scared of him breaking your heart, scared of losing him, scared of this happening ━ ever resist him? He made love seem so easy, and maybe that’s because it was when you were with him. But now, he was no longer yours; now, he was the world’s, and you were nothing but a mere hazy fragmented memory in his mind, long forgotten, watching from the side of the stage much like you always had from the very start of it all.

“Hey, isn’t this that band?” Jihyo’s voice bursts through your wandering trail of thoughts.

It takes you a moment to recollect yourself, finding yourself not in the arms of an ex-lover or stuck in a bygone time of months past, but in the cosy and amiable café nearest your campus and frequented by a plethora of your fellow peers. You’re fortunate to find that your other group mates have also become sidetracked, trailing far from the assignment you were all supposed to be working on. Dahyun is perched beside you, chin nestled in the palm of her hand and elbow propped on the table as she scrolls aimlessly through her phone; Jihyo and Taeyong were sat across from you, gossiping fervently about some mutual friend of theirs. You hadn’t known the pair long enough to know much about them or the tragic affair of whoever Mina is for accepting her cheating boyfriend back for the second time, and, likewise, they seem oblivious to your own self-wallowing once you realize what’s caught Jihyo’s sudden attention.

You hear his voice first.

It’s easy to discern, even after all this time and even amongst the muffled chatter and clanking of porcelain and cutlery of those seated around you. The sweet, velvety lull of Jungkook singing throughout the café from the overhead speakers, pretty upbeat melodies and synths mixed with wistful words making up the song he had written for you before he left, before the fame and fans, as a way of telling you how he truly felt about you. It feels like a dream, and maybe that’s because it is, bringing you instantly to another time, and another world. You still remember him showing you the unfinished song for the very first time, curled up next to him in his living room, listening to him serenade you to sleep, humming in places where he hadn’t formed the words yet, strumming along with his acoustic. It was yours and his until he showed the world almost a year ago on their very first show at the Seoul Olympic Stadium in front of thousands of people, as a final desperate act of proclaiming his love for you after a disastrous attempt at a first date that he had begged from you. Just one, he pleaded. To prove it to you that I can be a good boyfriend. And if things don’t work out, we can pretend it never happened and just go back to being us. That’s a promise.

At the time, you had treasured the song. It was beautiful in every way, his love transcending his words and enveloping your heart in pure warmth.

Now, you hate it.

It’s the third time you’ve heard the song that day. Despite avoiding it as best as you could, it seems to find a way to make itself known in your daily life like the nagging nuisance it is. Because fate seemed to enjoy its sadistic behaviour of having the song be one of the main reasons Jungkook and his band had skyrocketed to fame in such a short span of time and, suddenly, Jungkook disappearing from your life meant little when his voice remained as a constant reminder of what could have been, what couldn’t have been, and what fell apart at the already fragile seams. And what was a proclamation of love to you turned into nothing but a fabled tale of lovers. You wonder if people who hear it ever think about where they’ve gone, or who they’ve turned into, or if their love was made to last. You wonder, above all else, if people ever think about it at all.

“Beyond the Scene, right?” Taeyong asks. He seems just as animated to be discussing the song as Jungkook’s voice fades into Jimin’s.

“God, I love this song. It’s so dreamy,” Jihyo lets out a longing sigh as she slumps against her seat. “Y’know, I’m seeing them this Friday. It’s their first time being back in, like, five months.”

“Dude, I’ve been trying to get tickets to see them for months now!” Taeyong gaps incredulously. “How’d you score them?”

“A friend of a friend knows the guy who plays keys,” Jihyo says. “The cute mysterious one.”

“Yoongi, right?”

“Yeah━”

As the pair dive into a passionate discussion about the boys and their first full-length album released under their recently-signed-to label from Columbia Records, you shift uncomfortably in your seat. Dahyun almost immediately straightens up, eyes flickering from the pair to you and back again. You’re both fortunate she’s there, having known your past with Jungkook, and despise it a little more, wondering what her pitying gaze must mean.

“Hey, Dahyun. Y/N.” Taeyong’s voice grabs your attention now. “What do you think of these guys? Didn’t some of them used to go to this school?”

“Yeah, I had a few classes with their drummer.” Dahyun waves her hand airly, swiftly brushing over the fact that she did far more than have a “few classes” with any of the boys but was also one of their closest friends. “I think they’re great━” She glances sideways at you one more time. “Hey, maybe we should get back to the assignment now━”

“I had a class with their lead guitarist, Jungkook, last year,” Jihyo continues, her excitement getting the best of her as Dahyun’s voice drowns out in the foreground.

“No way!” This dubious exclamation comes from Taeyong.

“I tried talking to him once but he totally blew me off,” Jihyo says. “Which is fine, because he’s still hot. If I had known he was gonna be a famous rockstar, I’d have tried asking him out a second time━”

Suddenly, you feel sick.

It’s odd to hear two strangers discuss Jungkook’s life while you’re seated across from them, as if you’re nothing more than an outsider to whoever Jungkook has become now. But you can’t stand it anymore. You’re certain you look insane to them when you push your seat back abruptly, the metal legs screeching against the floor as you stand.

“Whoa, what’s wrong━?” Taeyong starts to ask but you’re gone before he can finish the question, murmuring a half-hearted excuse about how you forgot you needed to be somewhere.

You’ve rounded on your heel and have fled from the café before anyone can try to stop you, with nothing but Jungkook’s mellifluous voice fading in the distance as he croons aloud for you in a time long since passed.

You don’t care. Besides, you’re sure Dahyun will cover for you.

The worst part of it all? The dreadful realization that sinks into your mind, and into your heart, beckons the question: who’s to say you aren’t a stranger now to Jungkook’s life altogether?

“So, what are you trying to say?”

You remember the moment so clearly despite wanting nothing more than to forget it all, and the pain associated with it. Because even from then you knew you would always be in love with Jungkook, but you couldn’t have him. It’s hard to remember whose fault it is this time that caused the sudden fight, though random little arguments had been a frequent occurrence nearing the end of your one year relationship more often than not. You hate blaming it all on him, because you were certain you were at fault too. Maybe a little bit wary at times, a little selfish, wanting him all to yourself. Even though you knew he has an obligation to the world, it still hurt when he started making promises he couldn’t keep, blowing you off for soundchecks, or spontaneous interviews, or record label meetings. More and more you could feel the both of you drifting apart, maybe without even meaning for it to happen.

It was just that Jungkook was destined for a lifetime of greatness, and you were starting to think that meant without you.

You had stopped him late one night after he had stumbled home from his and the band’s nightly studio sessions as they worked through recording their debut album as a signed band. Lately, it seemed as if that was all that Jungkook cared about, and while you knew the band meant the world to him and you would always support him in his endeavour, you couldn’t help but feel lesser in comparison. That, and you hated seeing the boy overwork himself to the point of near exhaustion every night if only because their label was so adamant about having the album finished before the month ended.

“You want to, what? Break up?” Jungkook asked, this time more incredulously and less dumbfounded as he had initially been. He didn’t believe you just yet, but you couldn’t exactly tell what he was thinking anymore at that point.

“I just figured we could use some time apart,” You had suggested awkwardly. “Just a break.”

He had let out a breathless, disbelieving laugh. “Y/N, this is insane.”

You flinched. You remember having to look away, refusing to meet his suddenly sorrowful look. “Is it, Jungkook? I mean… Look at us. We’re falling apart. It was bound to happen eventually. We tried to make it work but maybe we’re on different paths now.”

“But I love you,” Jungkook gasped, exasperated. “Where is this coming from?”

“And I don’t want to have to tie you down for the rest of your life,” You continued on stubbornly, “or make you think you owe me your whole life just because you said you fell in love with me when you were thirteen━”

This seemed to catch Jungkook’s attention. He grew rigid in front of you, a look of wary agony contorting his face. “Is that what this is then? You don’t love me anymore?”

You didn’t respond immediately, instead the dread of the night seemed to finally catch up with you and you had grimaced. You had loved him even then, but the thought of voicing it aloud when you were supposed to be breaking up with him didn’t feel right. The tears began to swell in your throat and blur your vision. Jungkook must have noticed, because he always seems to spot the small things about you that even you miss. Almost instantly, the sour look on his face softened and his gaze turned helpless, with those big puppy-dog eyes that you’ve always been too fond of. He closed the distance between you at once, warm hands grabbing at your own.

“You do.” It wasn’t a question, but a statement. He knew you were still in love with him ━ or maybe he’d just been hopeful. “I know you do. So then why are you breaking up with me?”

He let go of one of your hands to reach up to your face, calloused fingers gentle and soft against your cheek as they brushed away a rogue tear you hadn’t realized had fallen from your lashes. For a moment, you had let yourself get carried away. You leaned into the comforting heat and touch of his palm as he cradled your face.

“Don’t━” You choked out after a moment of silence, hating when your voice splintered into a sob. “Don’t touch me. Please, Jungkook. You’re only going to make this harder.”

His hands sprang away from your face almost at once, as if he had just been burnt by scalding fire. He wanted nothing more than to reach out and pull you into his arms but he had refrained the urge somehow, miraculously. So, instead, he grit his teeth and clenched his hands into fists as his arms fell limp at his sides.

“Then don’t do this. Don’t walk away,” Jungkook pleaded desperately. “I don’t understand. If you love me still, why are you making this harder for yourself?”

“Because what if that’s all we have in common anymore?” You asked wretchedly. “We care about each other. We always will. But you’re focused on the band, and this is my last year of school. Maybe we just need time to focus on ourselves.”

Jungkook blinked once. Twice. His stare was suddenly devoid of any emotion as he gawked at you, but you could tell that he was hurting. It was there in the fluttering of nerves in his jaw; there, in the way his lips pulled taut into a thin line; there, in the way even you could see his eyes begin to shimmer with wet tears that he unabashedly displays without trying to wipe away.

“So that’s it?” he asked. “After everything we’ve been through. You’re just gonna end it, like that? Y/N, come on━”

His hands had found purchase on your waist, and you had lingered for a moment too long; then, fumbling, he tried to grab delicately at your face, probing you to look at him. But you couldn’t. The moment you met his wounded gaze, you shook your head furiously. You had slithered out of his grasp, slipping through the seams of his fingers just like that.

“I━” You paused. “This isn’t some spur of the moment decision, Jungkook. How can you not see it? I’ve felt so alone these past few months. It’s like you’re here but not entirely. Your mind is always somewhere else, always thinking about the band and never about us.”

“What am I supposed to do?” he had asked hotly. “The band is my everything.”

“And what am I?” You asked. The question only mildly offended you, a shot right to your heart. Because if the band was his everything, what were you in comparison? “A distraction until you get everything you want? I can’t keep being that.”

“No!” he protested. “You’re not a distraction. You’re━” He stopped himself short, brows furrowing. “You can’t keep pinning this all on me. You just don’t trust me, do you? You never did. Always thinking I’m with some other girl when I’m not with you━”

“That’s not true,” You admonished.

“Isn’t it?” Jungkook retaliated.

“I don’t want to hear it,” You had said at once. Your tone was final, a decisive ending to your argument with him. “My mind’s already been made up, Jungkook. I don’t think we should see each other again until we sort all this out ━ or, until you sort out whatever your priorities are.”

Jungkook’s stare had hardened, a frown deeply etching into his face. He had straightened up then, perplexed and upset with your standoffish demeanour, as if thinking this surely meant nothing to you. But little did he know this would become one of the hardest decisions you would have to make.

“Fine,” he said rigidly. “If that’s how it is, then I’m gone. You’ll never have to see me again.”

You hadn’t known at the time just how terribly you had messed up ━ neither had Jungkook. He had left before you could stop him, or before either of you could change your minds. Because nothing’s worse than a broken heart, blinded by stubborn and defensive rage. Accusatory fingers and blaming him or you wouldn’t heal the wounds that had already formed, and ending things seemed to only make it worse, months of lonely heartache without Jungkook to further prove just that…

The last time you spoke to Jungkook, you told him you never wanted to see him again ━ or, at least, that seems to be how he interpreted it.

Now, you were standing in the midst of his domain, surrounded by everyone in his public sphere of friends and colleagues and acquaintances, and there was certainly no way of escaping him.

You were starting to think you’re losing mind, because you’d truly have to be insane to have worked up the nerve to agree to go with Dahyun to a party being held celebrating the band’s recent tremendous success and headlining their first world tour. Their manager, Jin, had personally reached out to you and Dahyun, calling you as a means of asking you to attend, though you had given him a timid and dismissive response at first. If it hadn’t been for Dahyun purposely and almost quite literally dragging you out under the premise that “even if you don’t want to see Jungkook, you at least owe it to the boys to go,” you don’t think you’d even be here. But while you didn’t know where you stood with Jungkook anymore, that didn’t mean you weren’t still proud of him or the rest of the boys. It just became harder to bask in their success with them when you had gone from knowing every detail of their lives, of Jungkook’s life, to knowing only what you could hear from gossiping fans around you, or plastered in tabloids, or all over any form of social media.

The party is held at some sort of fancy lavish restaurant, the entire back room rented out by the band’s record label and management, and is filled with dozens of people you don’t know. Fortunately, you and Dahyun aren’t left alone for very long, as an elated Jin and Jimin, the appointed lead singer, bustle their way through the crowd to you almost as soon as you arrive, leaving very little time for you to feel so awkward that you consider running away again. Jimin, in all his spritely and extravagant blue haired disposition, wastes no time in engulfing you both in a comforting hug as if months hadn’t passed since you’ve last seen them.

“Glad you guys could make it!” Jin smiles from over Jimin’s shoulder.

“It’s been forever,” Jimin affirms.

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Dahyun says. “I’m surprised you guys didn’t forget about us, considering you’re big rockstars now.”

“Rockstar is a bit of an overstatement.” An effortlessly charming smirk unfurls on Jimin’s face, which seems to immediately dazzle Dahyun. “Besides, we could never forget you. Hey, come with me to find the guys. I think we could all use some time to catch up━”

He places his hand on the small of Dahyun’s back as he guides her away, leaving you with Jin. A moment of silence passes, in which time you can feel the boy’s eyes lingering on you.

“He knows you’re coming tonight, if that’s what you’re worried about,” Jin says carefully, treading over his words lightly. It’s too painfully obvious who he’s talking about, though you’re fortunate he doesn’t bother mentioning Jungkook’s name anyway. “There’s no point in hiding. I think you should talk to him.”

“I━” You trail off uselessly, your voice croaking. Fearing an imminent breakdown, you shake your head. Then, holding your chin a little higher, Jin’s startled to hear you pretend as if he hadn’t said anything. “It really is good to see you guys again. If you’ll excuse me, I think I need a drink.”

And you’re gone once more before he can say anything else. On your lonesome, you find refuge at the bar, though you only order water because you’re certain you won’t be able to stomach anything stronger. You don’t know how long you spend there, blankly staring at a spot on the wall as your mind wanders everywhere and yet nowhere at all until━

“Y/N?”

There it is again. The familiar sound of his voice, only this time it’s much more attainable, closer to your world and not elsewhere so high in the clouds like a hopeful dream. You brace yourself before turning to face him.

This close, Jungkook looks breathtakingly and painfully beautiful.

As always, he’s adorned in all black, the first few buttons of the silky blouse he’s wearing left undone so that it teases the exposed flesh of his collarbones and the rose tattoo that inks his chest, the thorny stems crawling up the side of his neck just below his ear, accompanied by a pair of leather pants. He’s the same as ever. The same imperfect tattoos that decorate his fingers and arms that you’ve always loved, the same ring-clad fingers painted a chipped black, the same hoop accentuating his button nose. His hair is still his natural dark ebony color (something he’s seemed to stick with much more as of late despite dyeing it wild colours throughout his past), only it’s a little longer than you last remembered, and the sides of his head are shaved in the form of an undercut. You’re foolishly surprised to find he still looks the same, but almost a year away from someone can both change nothing and yet everything all at once.

“Jungkook…” You want to say something more, but your words fall short.

It’s hard to tell if he’s angry or upset at seeing you there, but you don’t think he’s either, and you have an inkling of a thought that he purposely sought you out amongst the many faces. Instead, he looks hesitant, apprehensive, as if dreading how you’ll respond to see him. As if you’ll yell at him, push him away. You do neither, fortunately.

Just when the dense silence starts to become almost unbearable, Jungkook clears his throat. “I━ Wow… You look great.”

You blink once, a flustered blush warming your face that you hope he doesn’t notice. “Oh. Thank you. You do, too.”

His eyes flicker over your presence as he nods absentmindedly. Then, he’s offering you a pretty smile, soft and sweet in nature. No malice, or ill-intent. “Um━ How have you been?”

You hate this. You hate the awkward pauses, the prolonged periods of silence. A year ago, even despite knowingly pining for one another, your moments alone with Jungkook were never so terrible. He always found a way to say something cheekily flirtatious even when you were just friends, if only because he knew it would make you blush and giggle because, no matter how many times you would roll your eyes or nudge his sides, he also knew you secretly loved it. All the inside jokes, the milestones shared together, the ardent fleeting touches ━ where did it all go? And while you were both noticeably trying to maintain the peace and pleasantry between one another, it didn’t feel the same. It felt forced, fake. Distracted.

“I’ve been good,” You lie. “How about you? Actually, don’t answer that━” You let out a breathless chuckle. “You’ve clearly been doing amazing. I mean, your album, and your world tour. And tomorrow you’ve got a big day with the hometown show. I heard it sold out in the first ten minutes.”

“Something like that,” Jungkook says modestly. “It’s been kind of crazy. Namjoon says it’s good, but I miss━ I just miss a lot of how it used to be. The slow pace. I dunno. The quick burn up is quick to burn out, right?”

“Maybe,” You admit. “But I think you’ve all got it in you. You’ve worked so hard for this moment. Enjoy it while you’re in it. You deserve it, Jungkook.”

His stare softens as it meets yours. “Thanks.”

Another beat of silence passes. He looks as if he’s warring with himself, as if he’s fighting the urge to say something more, gnawing at his lower lip, brows knitting together.

“Yo, Jeon!” A foreign voice from amongst the crowd beckons aloud abruptly for the boy.

Jungkook glances over his shoulder swiftly in search of the source, then waves his hand as if to motion he’ll be there later. Then, he turns back to you. “Sorry about that.”

“It’s okay. I won’t keep you,” You say. “I know you’re busy.”

“But━” He stops himself, his jaw clamping shut. Changing his mind, he decides to ask hopefully, “Will you be at the show tomorrow?”

“Of course.” The affirmation seems to relieve him, even though it’s a spontaneous decision made by you on the spot. Before this moment, you hadn’t been so sure you could go.

“Promise?”

You can’t help but shake your head, a chuckle slipping past your lips at the innocent boyish question he asks. “Yes, Jungkook.”

His smile widens a little more, however sheepish it may be. “Then can you promise me one more thing?”

“What?” You quirk a brow, intrigued to say the least.

“Will you drop by the hotel we’re staying at tomorrow morning, so I can take you out for a coffee? Just to catch up. It’s been a while,” he says timidly. Then, feeling a little stupid for being so bold, scrambles to explain himself. “And no pressure if you don’t want to. I just thought━”

You can’t possibly say no. Not when it comes to Jungkook, all your past struggles seemingly vanishing without a trace. “I’d like that a lot, Jungkook.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

Then he’s positively beaming, his self-indulgent grin making your own heart flutter in your chest. When he leaves your side that night, you find yourself looking forward to the future perhaps a little too optimistically. But how terrible could grabbing coffee with your ex be, if you had survived the first wretched encounter?

So, in the morning when you wake, there’s not a stutter in your step or a wavering flicker of your confidence as you make your way to the Four Seasons hotel Jungkook had told you to from the night before. In fact, a selfish part of you almost thinks that maybe things will start to look up. That maybe you and Jungkook can finally make amends. That maybe you never had a reason to fear Jungkook breaking your heart if he made such an effort to heal it.

The hotel itself is one of the most luxurious ones in Seoul, a considerable contrast from when the boys were slumming it on friends’ couches and in their run-down van touring the country. The room Jungkook tells you to meet him at is one of the hotel’s grand suites, located on the higher levels of the building. But as soon as you reach the landing and have begun making your way towards the designated door, it flings open and a pretty girl comes stumbling out. She’s giggling at something that has just happened inside, her hair a dishevelled mess which she ruffles up in an attempt to fix it. She’s adorned in a pretty little dress, the skirt of which is hiked a little higher up and one strap falling down her shoulder, as she clings her shoes and bag to her chest. She smiles at you on the way past, though she’s too far gone in her own little daze that you wonder if she even notices you at all.

But you certainly notice her, and, all at once, your reverie of him and what could be comes crashing to the ground once more.

Maybe you should have stayed, should have waited for Jungkook to let him explain, but you were too afraid to hear an answer you weren’t looking for. You try desperately not to imagine Jungkook loving someone else. You try not to think about him holding her the same way he held you, his lips finding purchase on some other girl. But by trying to avoid the thought, it beckons the unwarranted memories of how it felt to be loved all over by him once upon a time. You wonder how many girls he’s hooked up with in your time apart, and the overwhelming sense of regret washes over you.

You don’t bother to wait. You know fleeing is the easiest option rather than facing your fear, but you’re far too timid of rejection again. Instead, even before you can approach Jungkook’s hotel room and knock on the door, you turn on your heels and run.

You’re long gone by the time Jungkook comes to the door, prying it open in search of you on a whim. When he doesn’t see you, he glances up and down the hallway but to no avail. Namjoon comes slinking past inside then in his own disoriented haze, having just woken up from moments ago when the girl he had taken back to their room the night before left. Even then, Jungkook had warned the rhythm guitarist against bringing the girl back, pointing out the fact that they had much to do today ahead of their concert. Namjoon had promised it wouldn’t be long, that she would be gone in the morning, and Jungkook was fortunate enough that the suite had two separate bedrooms on the opposite ends of one another so that Jungkook didn’t have to hear whatever it was the pair were doing in the other.

“Did Mina leave?” Namjoon asks through a yawn, digging the heels of his palms into his tired eyes. When Jungkook nods, a sliver of a reminiscent smug grin tugs at Namjoon’s lips. “You missed out, Jungkook.”

The cheeky quip is met with a roll of Jungkook’s eyes. “I’m sure I’ll survive. You know I’m not like that.”

Like that━ As in midnight hook-ups and cheap thrills alike. He tried it once, far ago when you had first broken up with him, on a drunken spur of a moment as a way of healing the anguish in his heart. It hadn’t worked then; he assumed it would never work.

Namjoon seems to understand this immediately. He gives Jungkook a look that the boy doesn’t notice. “Well… is Y/N here yet?”

“No. But I’m sure she’ll be here,” Jungkook grimaces. He hopes. “Something probably came up.”

Namjoon clasps a reassuring hand on Jungkook’s shoulder, humming aloud, “Good luck, dude.”

But you never arrive, even though Jungkook waits for most of the morning, nervous eyes flickering to the door at every commotion outside, running to check only to see room service delivering breakfast or concierge showing guests to their rooms. He has no choice but to give up on the thought of you coming when Jin knocks on their door, prompting the boys to get a start on their day. Interviews and soundcheck await, but how could he possibly go on with his life without knowing what happened to you?

Which is why you stay on his mind for the rest of the day, distracting him in every aspect, mixing up his words when he’s in the midst of his interview, tripping up on stage as the boys set up and begin to rehearse. As the hours wane down to just an hour before the show, the thought of performing in front of thousands of fans starts to make him nervous and he doesn’t know why. He’s done this countless times before, almost nightly during the tour, so what stops him now? Of course he knows the answer, had grown all too accustomed to the feeling the first few months in which the break up had been so recent. It would always be about you.

But just before the show starts, Jungkook is making his way backstage from the greenroom, where the band had been waiting, to the stage. Fiddling with his in-ear piece, he almost doesn’t notice you and Dahyun weaving your way through the roadies and sound tech, being guided by Jin to the pit on the side of the stage where only family and friends are allowed. You don’t see him, and there’s a split moment where he thinks he should just let you go, until he doesn’t.

As he makes his way to you, the tour manager for the band intervenes part way, shouting out to the boy. “Where are you going? We’re on in five, Jungkook!”

“Yeah, I’ll be right back━” He waves the manager off as politely as he can, wasting no time to chase after you. He calls out your name, though it drowns out in the sound of the music being blasted through the speakers of the arena and the screaming fans. “Y/N, wait up!”

He’s relieved when he sees you stop in your tracks, turning to face him as Dahyun and Jin become lost in the chaos of the backstage. He comes to stand just before you, smiling breathlessly at you, unaware of the way your shoulders tense at the sight of him.

“You didn’t show up this morning,” he says as a way of greeting, his voice a curious prob. “What happened?”

You try desperately not to get lost in his big beautiful eyes, laced with such hope. Instead, you fold your arms over your chest, looking away. “Something came up.”

It’s then that Jungkook senses something is wrong. You’re upset with him, though he can’t tell why. Aside from the obvious rift in your relationship that had initially split you two up, you had been so pleasant to see him the night before. But he doesn’t give up just yet. “Well… you’re here now.”

You meet his gaze with your own hardened one. “For the boys.”

A shot right to his heart almost makes Jungkook gasp for air. He flinches, and then his stare softens, and you wish he wouldn’t look at you like that, out of fear that you might just relapse into his arms.

“What’s wrong?” He closes the distance between the two of you. He wants nothing more than to reach out and touch you, but refrains with much difficulty. There’s dozens of things that could be wrong, and he braces himself for your retaliation. “You didn’t want to come, did you?”

When you don’t respond, but also don’t stray from his side, Jungkook hurries to speak again if only to fill the tense silence.

“Look, last night… Maybe it was just me, but last night seemed like things were okay,” he says. “Was I wrong to feel that way?”

“Jungkook…”

“Please, just let me know,” he begs. “Because you’re all I can think about these days, it’s driving me crazy. And I don’t know what’s going on, but the reason I wanted to see you this morning was because I hate how things ended between us, and I wanted to tell you…” He swallows nervously as he trails off uncertainly. “I wanted to tell you that I’m still in love with you. And I can’t get you out of my head. These months away from you made me realize that I━”

Suddenly, you’re shaking your head and he knows you don’t believe him. As soon as the words leave his mouth, he regrets saying it, if only because they seem to enliven you. Now, you push yourself away from the boy. “I’m not doing this right now. You’re not doing this right now.”

As if to further your point, the band’s tour manager can be heard calling out frantically for the boy. “Two minutes, Jungkook!”

But Jungkook is hardly paying attention now, instead solely focused on you. “Please, Y/N━”

“No, you don’t get to say that to me,” You admonish hotly. You can’t bite the words back, no matter how hard you try. “You don’t love me. You think you love me, but you don’t.”

His jaw clenches, and his brows furrow into a frustrated stare. “I do.”

“You don’t.”

“Yes, I do.”

“Stop.” The harsh word makes Jungkook clamp his mouth shut. You shake your head furiously, but you know it’s only to distract yourself so that you don’t let the tears fall. “You’re being selfish, Jungkook. You don’t get to take all of me, love all of me, and leave, only to come back months later and pretend you’re still in love with me. And whatever this━” You gesture vaguely between the two of you, “is, or was, doesn’t exist anymore. We both need to stop pretending otherwise.”

Jungkook winces, eyes tinged with pain. “You don’t mean that.”

You don’t respond. Elsewhere, his tour manager starts to grow impatient, scolding the boy aloud, “Jungkook, we’re gonna be late. Hurry up!”

“Yeah, I’ll be there!” Jungkook calls back, irritated. Maybe he is being selfish. He’s wasting precious time by not leaving, all the hard work that the crew put into tonight’s show, and the fans awaiting his and the band’s arrival. He can still hear the crowd, this time their buzzing voices amalgamating into unanimous chanting muffled by the walls that sounds akin to the band’s name.

“You should go,” You say now. “Don’t wanna disappoint them.”

But he’d throw it all away for you if you told him to. He promised you that even before he had left for tour, before the band had been signed. Had you forgotten? Because he surely hadn’t.

“Y/N…”

“Good luck out there.”

Then, you’re gone before Jungkook can even make a move to stop you ━ but even if he did, what could he do to make you stay? The feat seemed impossible, and you always seem to find a way to slip from his grasp no matter what he does. Only this time he has no choice but to let you go, out of fear of being berated further by his tour manager or angering the boys so much to the point where he gets kicked out of the band.

He makes it on stage in time, the band filing out to take their places one at a time, deafening screams blowing out their in-ear pieces that stand no chance as each member joins the stage. The lights fizzle out until complete darkness cloaks the venue, but Jungkook still looks for you. He finds you in the pit on the side of the stage, Jin and Dahyun standing beside you, and finds it hard to keep his eyes off of you even though you attempt to pretend as if he’s not even there.

After their first adrenaline-filled opening song of the night, Jimin takes to the microphone to greet the crowd who scream back an indiscernible shout as, elsewhere, you notice Jungkook pry himself away from the microphone stand on his side of the stage to wave the rest of the boys over to Hoseok’s drum kit. They murmur amongst themselves briefly, though they go unnoticed by Jimin or the crowd as the lead singer entertains them.

“Seoul! It’s good to be back. We’ve missed you all so much━”

Jimin’s words get cut short when Jungkook, having just parted ways with the rest of his members for their impromptu meeting, beckons the lead singer over, out of range of the microphone. They seem to discuss something just as shortly as Jungkook had talked with the rest of the boys, in which time Jimin nods understandingly, then steps away from the microphone. Then, Jungkook takes to the microphone, the rings on his fingers glistening under the spotlight as he grips the stand.

“I know the night’s only getting started,” Jungkook’s voice wavers as he speaks, “but we’re gonna slow things down for a moment. We hope you don’t mind.”

Intrigued murmurs echo around the crowd, suddenly buzzing with excitement as they watch Jungkook with eager eyes. A few encouraging bellows has Jungkook smiling smally. Jin, on the other hand, looks perplexed.

“What is he doing?” Jin asks no one in particular, a quizzical look on his face. “This isn’t part of their set.”

“I think a lot of you might know this next song,” Jungkook continues, “but I don’t think I’ve ever expressed how much it means to me. This next one, I wrote for a special someone, and it sort of helped us achieve all of this. So, I think it’s time that person knows how much they mean to me.”

Jungkook glances nervously over at the boys standing behind him, each in their own respective spots. Then, sweeping his gaze across the crowd, he finally finds you already staring up at him. His own eyes soften into a look of longing, however hardened by past tribulations and sorrow it may be. As if he’s determined not to lose you again; determined to make it up to you.

“This next one is for Y/N,” he says timidly. He has to turn away from you in the next second, afraid he might just break down before the fans and the boys and you. “I’m sorry I messed up.”

As the boys take their place, with Jimin taking an acoustic and fading back from the limelight, you wonder why. But then you hear it, the familiar beginning chords making up the song you had so wholeheartedly claimed you hated. Only this time they’re gentler, made up of acoustic strums of a guitar, Hoseok’s drums, and Yoongi’s keys, all amalgamating into a pretty song almost unrecognizable.

Then, Jungkook starts singing, and what was once a wistful dreamy song of prospective lovers suddenly turns into a melancholic requiem for you. Some lyrics are changed, present tense turning to the past, and Jungkook sings his way throughout the entirety of the song in contrast to the one that plays all over the radio featuring the other member’s voices. The fans sing along, their voices melding with Jungkook’s into some sort of celestial mellifluous choir, and you’re left no longer wondering if the fans would ever know the meaning behind the song that Jungkook had brought to life. Because now, it wasn’t just Jungkook singing to you; it was the whole world. And yet, paradoxically at the same time, it felt all that much more intimate. As if it were just you and him once again, seated on the couch in his small apartment, listening to the beginnings of what would be their number one selling song.

Above all else, you realize that you don’t seem to hate the song as much you claimed to.

That night, you can’t sleep.

You find yourself leaving the venue earlier than everyone else, even when the boys invite you and Dahyun to join them for celebratory drinks, returning to your home in the hopes of forgetting the night altogether. Instead, you stay up tossing and turning, your mind filled with memories consisting of only Jungkook and his haunting voice singing to you, and for you. But at some point during the night nearing one or two in the morning, just when you give up on the idea of sleep, the sound of incessant knocking at your front door rouses you from your trance.

When you finally answer the door, you’re more than surprised to see that Jungkook stands on the other side of the threshold as if coming to you from a dream. But then you register the fact that he’s a complete mess. Dark circles line his weary eyes, now smudged with that faint hint of charcoal liner he had worn for the concert, hair so messily mused beyond repair, and you notice quickly that he’s crying, fresh tears glazing over his pupils and streaking down his face. It’s startling to see him in such shambles, a complete contrast to how effortlessly charming and confident he usually portrays himself. But though you’ve seen him cry before on various occasions, now is all the more unsettling.

“I━I’m sorry.” It’s the first thing he says, screwing his eyes shut tightly as he shakes his head. He fumbles over his words, slurring them together in his rush to get them out. “I know I’m probably the last person you want to see right now, but I needed to see you.”

“Are you drunk?”

“No, no, I swear━” He pries his eyes open to meet your desolate stare, tears unabashedly falling from his lashes. His voice thins with desperation. “You said we need to stop pretending, but I’m not pretending. I never have been. And if you think ━ if you truly believe ━ that there’s nothing here between us anymore… Tell me. Right here, right now. And I’ll leave you alone forever, you’ll never have to see me again. I just━ I’ve missed you every moment and it kills me.”

You’re silent for a long period, pitying gaze sweeping over him, but he doesn’t care if he looks insane. He just needs you to know how he feels.

“Well, how do you think I felt?” You ask the question carefully, but then the memories come flooding back and the semblance of a scowl forms on your face. “You leave and suddenly everywhere I look I see you. Your song is playing everywhere, you and the guys are everywhere, and I’m reminded every day about how we ended. About how you left me.”

Jungkook blinks. He shakes his head stubbornly, the nerves in the corner of his jaw fluttering as he grits his teeth. “You were the one who said we should take a break.”

“A break!” You snap sternly. “Fuck, Jungkook. I didn’t want you out of my life forever. I wanted you to fight for me.”

“No, don’t put this all on me,” Jungkook pleads helplessly. “I have always fought for you. But the minute things got rough, you bailed. You told me you never wanted to see me again. What the hell was I supposed to do?”

“I was scared!” You try to swallow the tears away that start to form as a lump in your throat but to no avail. “I was, and I still am, so fucking scared of losing you. And you━ It felt like you gave me no choice. Like you were over it. I would have wanted to make things work but you left. You just… You left, and suddenly it was like you were never in my life at all. Seven months, and I get no word from you.”

“I fucked up, okay!” He cries out so suddenly, it silences you at once. He bites at his lip, and straightens up half-heartedly, running a hand through his hair. When he meets your stare this time, he’s zealous yet sincere. “I know that I messed up. I know. And it fucking kills me every single day. I don’t know where it went wrong, but it did, and I know it’s all my fault. When you said we should take a break and I agreed, I was only thinking about you. Because I knew I was disappointing you every day, and I was afraid that was all I would ever do, and you don’t deserve that. I thought it would be better this way, if I was just gone from your life for good. But I can’t forget you.”

“How can I trust you?” You ask. When his pained stare gawks at you, you tilt your chin a little higher. “I came by your hotel room yesterday morning, just like you asked, only to see that girl leaving.”

Jungkook’s gawk turns into a dumbfounded expression. He looks weary as he shakes his head, as if struggling to keep up with the way you accuse him now. He tries not to focus on the fact that you actually came to the hotel, then feels inconsolably terrible when he realizes why he never got to see you. “That girl was Namjoon’s fling. We were sharing the suite, and they were in a whole other room. I didn’t even think about her━”

Your stare droops from him, and he knows he’s struggling to keep you on his side.

“Okay, fine. You want trust? I’ll give it to you,” he says. A newfound sense of confidence seems to possess him, though he approaches the topic with extra caution anyway. “After we broke up, I was crushed. I couldn’t move on from you, and the guys thought I should get drunk, find a random girl to bring back to our hotel one night on tour. And I listened, because I wanted to forget you, but it didn’t work. All I could think about was you. Every time she touched me, every time she kissed me, I could only imagine it was you. And when she left that night, I broke down because I felt like such a fucking idiot. I instantly regretted it. Like, even though you and I weren’t together, I still did something to hurt you by sleeping with that girl. And all it did was hurt me too in the process.”

He pushes himself forward, taking a step over the threshold. Even despite him admitting his wrongs to you, you can’t find it in yourself to hate him. Because, at the end of it all, he’s here at your doorstep, pleading for you to forgive him, but he had already won the moment your eyes had landed on him.

“You’re the reason I am who I am today.” His voice is hoarse when he speaks, almost in a whisper. “That I get to do what I love for a living. But all of it means nothing without you. You saw me at my worst, and my best. And you were the best I ever had, and I ruined it, and the worst part of it all is that there’s nothing I can do to make up for it. But I promise I can make it better ━ I can make it right again ━ if you just give me a chance.”

There’s a short pause filled with poignant silence in which Jungkook thinks you’ll push him away or scream at him. He’s fortunate when you do neither; instead, he hears you whisper faintly.

“Kiss me, Jungkook.”

And it’s more than enough for him. His heart thrums in delight as he wastes no time in reaching out for you. His hands are warm as they come to grasp at your face, holding you delicately; then he’s leaning in to you, drawing you closer and closer until his lips are pressed against yours. It’s unadulterated, but not without feverish passion, noses smushing together in both your eager hastiness to close the distance between the two of you. It doesn’t last long either, though that’s partly because Jungkook can taste your tears mingling on your lips, and can feel your faint smile form against his mouth. Kissing him feels both foreign yet familiar at the same time. You know the feel, the taste, and the sense of comfort that comes with it, but months apart from one another has left it feeling different.

Jungkook’s thumb wipes away at the tears on your face. “Why are you crying?”

It’s a useless question, he knows, but he needs something to fill the silence. He’s relieved when he hears you snicker. “Because I miss you, you idiot. And I’m sorry I’ve been acting like such an idiot. I’ve messed everything up.”

His own shoulders quiver with contented mirth. “It’ll be okay.” As he leans in once more for another kiss, you can feel him murmur against your mouth, “I promise I’ll make it up to you.”

“Then make it right,” You say, “right here and now.”

“I’ll do anything for you,” he promises earnestly.

Jungkook understands the underlying yearning in your voice even without having you explain yourself. He knows, if only because he can feel it too. As his hands fall to your waist, fingers digging into your skin, your own arms wrap around his neck and pull him into your apartment. He has you pressed up against the nearest wall within seconds, kissing at your throat, then up to your jawline.

“It’s been so long,” he sighs.

You hum in agreement, though your mind is already spinning, and all you can muster is a weak yet urgent croak of his name. “Jungkook.”

Your fingers thread through his hair, tugging at the roots and he croons with delight. His lips finally meet yours again, only this time he lets his tongue lav at your lower lip. Almost as soon as he does so, you notice something strange. It takes a moment for you to register the small metallic object that grazes your lower lip but when you do, you pull away from the boy.

“What’s wrong?” Jungkook asks in a confused dazed.

“Is that…” You rasp. “Did you get your tongue pierced?”

Suddenly, Jungkook is smirking, one brow shooting up to his hairline in a smug demeanour. He sticks out his tongue for you to see the silver ball poking through and you almost moan at the sight of it as the thought entices you.

“Oh.” Your face warms with a flustered blush. “That’s new.”

“Yeah,” he says. “Always wanted to get it done. Guess I was saving it for the right moment.”

“Right moment, huh?” You scoff as if the implications don’t already have your thighs rubbing together. “Care to explain?”

“I think you’ll find out soon enough.”

You dissolve into a fit of giggles, marvelling at the way Jungkook’s familiar flirtatious bantering can soothe your troubled heart at once. It’s almost as if time hasn’t lapsed between the two of you.

“I’ve missed this,” You sigh. “I’ve missed you, Jungkook.”

You spot him smiling before he’s kissing you again, this time his tongue slipping past your parted lips to meet yours midway. The piercing is strange to adjust to, but you get used to it quickly, humming at the feeling of it against the soft flesh of your tongue. It’s easy to get lost in one another’s lips as you pull and tug at Jungkook, guiding him to your bedroom, nearly tripping and stumbling over one another in the process. He knows the path like the back of his hand, the same way he knows every curve and dimple of your body as his greedy hands explore you. He has you sprawled out beneath him on the bed in a matter of seconds, carelessly shedding each other of your clothes until you’re left naked and he’s without a shirt.

As he’s tugging off the hoodie you’re wearing, he realizes two things abruptly. One: you’re not wearing anything beneath it, your bare body dazzling him at once. And, two: a sudden thought jogs his memory that makes him ponder aloud, “Is this my sweater?”

“Yes,” You admit sheepishly.

He smirks. “Was wondering where it went.”

“You forgot to take it back when…” You don’t finish your sentence. Instead, you tug your fingers at the hair at the nape of his neck, as if scared he’ll leave again. He doesn’t. Instead, he nestles his body between your legs, tonguing patterns on your neck. “I wear it sometimes, especially when I’m missing you. I don’t know… It just━ It still smells like you, even after all this time.”

Jungkook’s heart nearly implodes. He wonders briefly if he’d prefer fucking you without or with the hoodie; but then he’s letting himself time to study your naked body and he deduces he needs to gaze at you in your entirety a little longer.

“Keep talking,” he murmurs. He starts kissing down your body now, starting from your throat to your collarbones, between the valley of your breasts, then your navel. “Tell me more. How badly did you miss me?”

“So badly,” You whimper. Your legs instinctively part to make way for him as he shifts downward, kissing just above your core. A shudder runs down your spine when he kisses the inside of your thigh. “Sometimes I’d put your sweater on and touch myself to the thought of you.”

He grunts against you, teeth softly biting at your flesh. His tongue pokes against your thigh, the metallic piercing a dully cold sensation as he licks upward to your core. He laps at your folds, as if to taste the glistening cum that starts to form.

Your breath audibly hitches in your throat, hips jutting forward to meet his mouth. “I missed your hands, and the way they made me feel. Missed your mouth between my legs. Missed cumming on your tongue, or your fingers.”

Now, you’re starting to understand what he meant by waiting for the right moment to use the piercing to its fullest potential. As he lifts his head higher to tongue at your clit, the piercing makes your head spin. The contrast between his soft tongue and the harsh metal works wonders against you, rubbing you just the right way that has you a moaning mess beneath him within a matter of seconds.

“Fuck━” You cry out, hands twisting in his hair. “My hands never feel the same. You always made me feel so good, Jungkook.”

He hums something in response, the sound reverberating up your spine. He busies himself by replacing his tongue with his finger, rubbing small, controlled circles against your clit as he lowers his mouth to your folds. He teases the piercing against the sensitive flesh before lapping at your insides, burrowing further into you.

“Ooh, Jungkook━”

The noise that eclipses your throat is a piqued sob of delight. The piercing that scratches against your walls has your insides throbbing, body twisting and turning beneath him. You grab at your breasts, fingers pinching at the perked buds as you imagine Jungkook’s hands in replace of yours.

His mouth wraps just right around you and he sucks hard, earning a beautiful moan from you. It doesn’t take long for you to draw closer to your high, sputtering and whimpering at every action he does. Soon he’s burrowing his face even closer against your core, nose nudging against your clit in a way that makes you writhe and squirm. Before he can get carried away (and he certainly could), Jungkook decides to come to a stop which seems to thoroughly surprise and upset you. When you feel his missing warmth between your legs and the sticky wet mess accentuated further by the cool air that hits you, you pout like a child.

“That’s not fair,” you whine.

“Sorry, baby. Need to feel you.” He pulls away from you and crawls over your body once more. He kisses your lips, sloppy and heated, and lets you taste your own succulence on your tongue. “God, I need to feel you so bad.”

You’re just as much startled as you were seconds ago to hear the slight whine in his voice, a sound hot enough to almost push you over the edge.

“I’ve missed you too, just so you know,” he moans, burrowing his face in the crook of your neck. Your fingers continue to scratch delicately at his scalp and he simpers delightfully against you. He ruts his hips eagerly against yours, the bulge in his pants rough against your core. “So fucking much.”

“How much?” Now it’s your turn to ask, your curiosity getting the best of you once you find your voice.

“Every day,” he sighs as he continues to grind his hips into yours. “Get so hard at the thought of you. Your pretty mouth moaning my name. Your hands in my hair, just like this━” You pull a little tighter at the roots of his locks, and he has to stifle his contented moan. “And your body━ Fuck, your body. You take my dick so well, baby.”

“Jungkook,” You mewl impatiently. “Wanna feel you in me.”

“Fuck, okay. Okay━”

He hastens to rid himself of his pants and you help, arms momentarily tangling with one another in your rush. Then he’s kneeling before you, one hand planted firmly on your hip, rings digging roughly against your skin, as his other hand wraps a fist around his hard length, slowly pumping himself. He guides the tip of his leaking cock to your core and pushes himself forward carefully. He easily slips past your folds, coaxed by your slick walls, that he has to pause to give you both time to adjust to the feeling. It’s just as he remembered, though somehow better, and he isn’t so sure how long he’ll last. You don’t know either, marvelling in the way he stretches you open.

“Oh, shit,” he grunts.

He watches as your jaw drops open in a silent gap, your eyes fixed only on his. You grab at his hips, fingers scratching delicately over the laurel tattoos inked there, prompting him to move. He does so in one languid movement, burying deeper and deeper into you until you feel so full and he feels so warm. He fucks into you a little sluggish at first, taking his time and enjoying the way your clenching walls feel around his throbbing cock. It’s a pace so maddening that it soon has the both of you panting, heavy moans filling the space around you. Your own fingers dig into his shoulders, his back, his hips ━ anything to keep a hold on reality as you slowly lose yourself to the pleasure. He reaches for one of your hands, eager to feel you in more ways than one, and laces his digits with yours, pressing your clasped palms above your head. You squeeze tightly, his name falling from your lips in a cry.

“Doing so good,” he mumbles through gritted teeth. “Feel so nice, baby.”

Jungkook grasps at your hips and flips the two of you over. He lands on his back on the soft mattress and you fumble to not break the pace. Firmly planting your hands on his chest, you grind against him, sweat coating your forehead. He watches you with a dark fascination, brows screwed together and jaw clenched as your own cum starts leaking down his length. Not wanting to waste another moment without being beside you, he sits up and shifts you in his lap. Then he pulls you close to him, chest pulled flush against chest to the point where he can feel the rapid beat of your heart against his. You whimper aloud, wrapping your arms tightly around his neck as he guides your hips back and forth on him. There’s little to no space between your gyrating bodies, sweaty skin sticking to one another.

At some point, Jungkook notices you’re crying again, steady tears tangling in your lashes and wetting your face. Despite the way you’re driving him to near euphoria, he brushes your hair out of your face and manages to ask, “What’s wrong? Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

“I’m sorry━ fuck,” You gasp. He can tell you’re genuinely sympathetic for whatever’s making you cry but it’s hard for you to convey it properly when you’re still so consumed by him. “I’m so sorry━ I’m okay. I just━ You feel so good, Jungkook.”

“It’s okay,” he whispers, rubbing tender circles against your waist that contrasts with the fierce burn between your legs. “You’re okay, baby. Doing so well for me, aren’t you? Cum for me, yeah?”

You won’t tell him why you’re crying ━ not yet, at least. But Jungkook thinks he knows why; he can feel it too. The bitter sense of longing and mingling regret for all the time lost. The overwhelming feeling of love of finally being reunited. You continue to roll your hips against his, and he, breathless, rubs his nose faintly against yours, resting his forehead against yours.

It doesn’t take much longer after that for you to come tumbling to you high. He strokes your hair so lovingly as you ride him recklessly, leisure rolls of your hips driving you to your high. When you cum, the feeling completely washes over you and electricity crackles in your veins, warming your entire body. He holds you close to his chest the entire time as you writhe with pleasure, your walls clenching around his cock.

“Fuck, I’m gonna━” His voice splinters off as you busy yourself by sucking a bruise onto the underside of his jaw.

He reaches his high moments later just as you’re beginning to wince at the feeling of oversensitivity. He grunts and groans, spilling his hot seed into you, and then, with his hips slammed against yours, grinds leisurely to ride out your highs.

Then, the room falls silent.

Neither of you move from your warm embrace, with you still perched on his lap, his cock softening inside you as his cum runs down his length and onto your thighs. Your face is hidden in the crook of his neck, and he waits until you’ve both calmed down from your orgasms. You’re running your fingers through his sweaty hair, but he knows you’re still sad. He kisses you all over in the meantime, a few ticklish kisses that make you smile sleepily and a few loving ones that have your heart swelling. Then, he gingerly shifts your head to look at him.

“Why were you crying?” he asks silently.

It takes you a moment to respond. You cling to him tightly when you do and all he can do is cradle you closer to him. “I don’t want this to be some kind of drunken one night stand thing. Like we both needed one last fuck to get over each other, or something."

“You mean more to me than a one night stand,” Jungkook says and it makes you smile smally, a little timidly.

“That’s good,” You say, “because I’m not over you or us. I want us to work out. I love you too much to lose you again, and I’m scared this might be the last time I’ll ever see you.”

“I’m not letting that happen,” Jungkook shakes his head furiously. “I’d be an absolute idiot to let that happen. You won’t lose me. I’m not going anywhere this time. You’re my priority, Y/N. You always have been. Not the band and definitely not the record label.”

“I’m sure the boys will love to hear that,” You snort to yourself.

“Yeah, well, I’m sure they’ll understand,” Jungkook grins. But you’re only joking, and you know he sort of is too. That’s not to say the band isn’t still important to him, but you take precedent over it. “Without you, I wouldn’t even have the chance to be where I am now.”

You nuzzle your nose against his own, and he steals one sweet kiss from you.

“Do you really mean all that?”

“With my whole heart.”

And, when he says it, you know he means it. There’s no reason not to trust him.

You’ll both move eventually from one another’s arms, soft touches from Jungkook peeling you off of him and wrapping you in your covers before falling asleep beside you, and waking up in the morning with you in his arms. But, for now, it’s just you and him, a little broken still yet all the more in love.

While you both know healing a broken heart will take time, you’re both prepared for it because you’re both worth it to one another ━ and that’s all either of you really need in the end to make it right.

⟶ Feedback is always appreciated!

6K notes · View notes

uselesssomebody · 3 years ago

Text

𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕨𝕚𝕟𝕕𝕠𝕨𝕤𝕚𝕝𝕝 - remus lupin x reader

complete masterlist | harry potter masterlist

“𝕚 𝕜𝕖𝕖𝕡 𝕠𝕟 𝕥𝕣𝕪𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕥𝕠 𝕝𝕖𝕥 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕘𝕠

𝕚’𝕞 𝕕𝕪𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕥𝕠 𝕝𝕖𝕥 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕜𝕟𝕠𝕨

𝕙𝕠𝕨 𝕚’𝕞 𝕘𝕖𝕥𝕥𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕠𝕟” - daddy issues | the neighbourhood

words || 𝟛.𝟟𝕜

summary || in which the reader reconnects with a very drunk remus

a/n || it's been a while hola! ➵ so i'm about to hit 200 followers and i will dedicate another post to that but i have some fun things in store! mostly just a masterlist revamp, but if any of you have any ideas on what i should do (request prompts, drabble series, ama, etc.) let me know and i'd love to. ➵ this is also a marauders' era lupin fic! ➵ thanks for reading, and hope you enjoy!

warnings || angst/fluff

the gryffindor common room was packed to the brim with people. the soft, sweet smell of butterbeer was paired with the sharper, much harsher smell of firewhiskey. it was the typical smell of the common room - only growing more potent when there was a party.

i sat next to lily, her hair pulled into a ponytail that tickled my cheek whenever she turned to look at or talk to someone. i could hear music but, under the sound of everyone, it was realistically quite faint.

really, i’d only come on lily’s request - saying that there was no way she’d be able to handle the party by herself. well, she said party, but i’m sure what she really meant was that she couldn’t handle james potter by herself.

speaking of, he’d just walked up to the couch we’d been sitting on - two cups in his hand.

“you two look like butterbeer girls - here, enjoy.” he handed us the drinks, the inhale i take to capture the sweet aroma confirming his assumption. lily let out a low noise - something akin to a scoff, but i could see her blush even in the low light of the room. a cocky smile was plastered on his face as he leaned against a wall next to us, “‘m glad you showed - was worried for a minute.” he was talking to the both of us, but he was looking at lily. i smiled a little, raising up from my seat. i could see lily’s betrayed look out of my peripheral, but i simply smiled.

“i think i saw meredith, i’m gonna say hi! potter-” he looks at me, “behave.” he smiles a little, before nodding and waving me off.

i had in fact seen meredith, and she was dancing and singing unintelligably. hell, she didn’t even recognize me for a few minutes. i realized almost immediately that it was because of the firewhiskey - and, after a sniff of her empty glass, realized just how effective the beverage must be. i found one of her friends, handing her off as i thought about just how bad her hangover would be the next day.

sirius sat at an edge of the room, having set up a makeshift bar. he noticed me as i walked over, smiling in greeting.

“hey there!”

“hello - mind getting me another one of these?” short chairs were set up across from him, and i sat in one, as i gestured to my now near-empty cup of butterbeer. he smiles, nodding and taking my cup, “so, how’d you get roped into bartender duty?” he laughs as he pours my drink.

“james bought all the drinks - he wanted me making sure nothing was wasted.” i widen my eyes, recalling something i’d seen on the other side of the room.

“well, i hate to tell you, but some of those hufflepuffs you guys invited were playing beer pong with half-full cups of vodka, so-” he swears lightly under his breath, handing me my cup. he turns to his left, calling for someone.

“pete! tell those hufflepuffs to drink or leave. giggly bastards.” he shook his head, and i giggled. he slumped a little onto the wall, and i sunk comfortably into my seat, “you looking for moony?” midway through a sip, i nearly spit it out.

remus lupin. nerdy, shy and oh-so-cute. just my type.

being a gryffindor meant you definitely knew the four - the marauders, as they called themselves. being lily evans’ best friend meant you had a more - how do i put it? - intimate relationship with the group. and by intimate, i mean james following her around like a lost puppy and the rest of them following his lead. it led to a pseudo-friendship with james, considering he could never really focus on me whenever lily was around, and an actual friendship with sirius and pete. the latter of which also really never spoke.

then there was remus. our relationship was a little more complicated. well, it wouldn’t have been, if i wasn’t so goddamn in love with him.

he was just so sweet. he had the same charm as james or sirius, but without all the cockiness. it was just simple and genuine. it was the way his hair would fall into his eyes as he told me about something dumb sirius did, or how he’d help pete with transfiguration homework in the common room, or the way that he’d just listen to me - with an intensity that made me feel like i was the only person he would ever want to listen to.

then, there was that day we were potions partners.

i remember my hands being all clammy, so focused on not embarrassing myself in front of him that it became a self-fulfilling prophecy - the neglected vat of purple liquid in our cauldron fizzing up and spilling over the edges, and onto me. i’d cursed myself - thankful that the potion wasn’t at all dangerous - but still fully flustered. slughorn had been sympathetic but, overall, quite useless.

it’d been remus who’d followed me to a bathroom, helping me clean myself up. as i scrubbed rigorously at my button-up, he’d quickly realized that it wasn’t - for the moment - salvageable.

“that’s not coming out, is it?” i let out a defeated sound - a mix of a sigh and a laugh.

“yeah, i guess it’s not. oh, well-” i stop myself as i see him grabbing the sweater he had on and pulling it off his body. he had a shirt on similar to mine underneath - of course, without a bright purple stain.

“here. better than your shirt.” he’s got a soft smile. i hesitate, more out of shock at the kind gesture than anything, and his eyes widen, “i mean - if you’re comfortable with it- you don’t-” i stop him by taking the sweater.

“thank you, remus.” he lets me change, still waiting outside as i exit the bathroom.

“what’d you have next?” i stop and think, button-up being pushed into my book bag.

“um - mcgonagall, i pretty sure.” his face brightens.

“hey, i’ve got her too! let me walk you?” i’m stunned for a second, but i can see that his brain is about to overclock again, so i quickly nod.

the class was on the other end of campus, giving me ample time to tell the story of how meredith and I, as potions partners, had nearly burned a hole through our cauldron. he, in turn, told me about the time james and sirius nearly set slughorn’s robes on fire. i’d been laughing so hard at the story that lily looked equal parts concerned and curious as i took my seat next to her. he’d smiled too, taking a seat with peter a couple chairs down the row.

mcgonagall’s lesson had been quite ordinary, until the end of it. as everyone had packed up to leave, she’d called me aside.

of course, on the one day i don’t wear the correct uniform, i get called out on it. and - of course - i couldn’t explain the reason for my lack of button-up, as i felt that professor mcgnnagall and i had some sort of mutual respect - and that i’d probably lose it if i told her the potions story. as i got ready to take her berating with small, defeated nods, i hear someone clear their throat from behind me.

turning around, i see remus looking sheepish.

“sorry, professor - that’s my fault.” i widen my eyes at what he says, while mcgonagall waits for an explanation, “we were in potions together, and i accidentally spilled some onto her shirt.” both our jaws drop - mine in shock that he’s taking the blame for me, and mcgonagall’s as she starts berating him for how careless ‘his’ actions were.

nevertheless, we were out of the classroom soon enough. i think i hear us both breathe a sigh of relief as we exit, before i turn to look at him.

“you didn’t have to do that, you know.”

“i know. wanted to.” he said, with a small shrug. it seemed almost dismissive, so i decided not to comment.

that day cemented my adoration for him. of course, this made me avoid the common room like the plague, always worried that i’d see him, do something dumb, and make a laughing stock of myself. still, i sorta had to see him during meals - and treasured those moments and conversations so much that it was almost pitiful.

it was a weird juxtaposition - wanting to spend every moment with him, but also believing that, if i did, i’d make a fool of myself.

it all came to a head about two weeks later. even lily had noticed my strange absences, making a point to ask me about it. i’d responded with something - honestly? - stupid and dismissive. she looked like she wanted to ask more, but bit her tongue in the end. the person i really couldn’t hide from, though, was remus.

he’d caught me as i tried to make my way up to my dorm after my classes on friday.

“hey, y/n! mind if i talk to you really quick?” i’d malfunctioned for a half-moment, before swallowing, and nodding. we’d walked up to his dorm - james and pete were with lily and meredith, and sirius was apparently in the ‘library studying’.

in other words - we were alone. together.

it was silent for a moment, as he leaned against his bed post and i found refuge on the windowsill.

“so…” i start slowly, “what did you want to talk about?” i was avoiding his gaze, but brought my eyes up to him. he was looking at me intently, the same way he did when i was telling him a story.

as if he were trying to read me.

“...are you alright?” he finally murmured the question, after a long pause. my breath hitches a little in my throat.

“what - what do you mean?” he readjusts so that his back is against his bedpost and his arms are crossed over his chest.

“i don’t know, you’re not really around anymore. i only ever see you at breakfast or supper. you’re never in the common room - i guess i just had to ask.” i’m quiet, trying to think of a viable answer. his brows are furrowed, as if he were thinking very deeply about something,, “it - it’s not me, right? i didn’t make you uncomfortable that day after potions, did i?” i open my mouth to deny his baseless worry, before i pause.

“how - i mean, what made you think that was the problem?” i can see his body relax as he realizes that that was, in fact, not the problem.

“i’m not - i guess i just assumed. because, well, you sorta stopped talking to me after that.” a small, nervous giggle slips from my mouth.

“what’re you talking about? i’m here with you right now. i’m talking to you, right?” he rolls his eyes, a small smile on his lips as he pushes off the bedpost and walks towards me. he stands in front of me, next to where my legs dangle from the sill.

“you know that’s not what i’m talking about,” he sighs a little, his head dropping into the space between us as he places his palms onto the top of the sill - one to each side of me, “will you give me a real answer?” the question’s smaller. quieter.

of course, that could also be because my ears had started ringing. that, mixed with the sudden sound of my blood rushing as my face heated up, were all likely factors. he was close - close enough for me to tilt my head forward and do what i’d been wanting to for so long.

“i don’t - um - don’t know what to tell you.”

“tell me the truth. are you okay?”

“yes.” he sucks in a breath.

“is it me?” i close my eyes, nodding slowly, “fuck.” he mumbles, retracting. but, i grasp his hands before he can.

“remus - i’m in love with you.” both our eyes widen at the confession, and i resist the urge to slap my hand over my stupid fucking mouth. how could i say that? what would he think of me? how could i let myself just ruin everything - by destroying our friendship and making his way too uncomfortable to be around me anymore-

“seriously?” his question cuts off my inner rambling. my eyes had closed somewhere along the way, but i couldn’t stop my head from nodding in response to him, “y/n. y/n, look at me.” i can feel his fingers at my chin, urging my eyes open. they do, tentatively, and i’m met with a look of incredulity and a smile.

“seriously.” the words are a whisper from my lips, and i can feel his mouth lowering to close the gap between us. he moves slowly - too slowly - prompting me to sit up and meet him half-way.

his hand’s cupping my cheek, the slightly rough pads of his fingers rubbing along my skin. his lips are chapped, but gentle, lightly pushing against mine as i smile into him. i thread my fingers around his neck, finding solace in the tendrils of hair at the nape of it.

i break away slowly, breathing deeply, eyes still closed.

“why’d you do that?” i murmur, and the breath of his quiet laugh hits my cheek.

“why’d you think? i love you too.”

he’d actually ended up regretting the kiss later - but not for the reasons one would expect. instead, he’d told me, it was simply the wrong time. he’d wanted to do it the right way - a couple dates, a proclamation of true affection, and a fairy-tale first kiss at the end of it.

as he’d told his story, i’d simply laughed. i liked our version better.

we’d actually planned on not letting the others know for a while as - of course - james and lily were meant to be the poster couple for our friend group. james would have been fuming if he learned that someone else’s pining and cute gestures were taking precedence over his own.

of course, that didn’t really last long, as sirius had quickly caught us making out as we were both drunk at the next party, and had promptly hollered the news to everyone else. i’m pretty sure that party ended early, actually, with peter, sirius, lily and meredith all asking us a plethora of questions. james had gone to bed early - probably to sulk.

we’d gone very strong for nearly half a year. sirius had made a joke that we were the perfect couple - so busy dealing with his bullshit that we never had to deal with our own. it was funny at the time, and we’d laughed it off - neither assuming that our relationship really had any shit that we needed to figure out.

that was, until around that six-month mark. there’d been something that had started bothering me about them - all of them - and it was shocking to me how much they all brushed it off.

there was another student in our year, severus snape - a slytherin. he’d always been quiet and, from the looks of it, a bit lonely. in fact, i never even noticed his much until james had taken it upon himself to harass the student. well, james always said it was all in the name of respecting lily - the guy had said some rather odd things to her. but, they never seemed malicious. only a little sad. james had taken it as an attack on his ego and, together with sirius, caused a plethora of problems for snape. remus had even joined in on a few occasions, but his usual role of sitting and letting james and sirius do as they wished was - honestly - shocking enough for me already.

i’d asked him time and time again what his moral compass had consisted of - and how harassing a student because he didn’t know how to flirt fell onto it. he’d insisted every time that snape deserved it, and that he wouldn’t be okay with it if he didn’t. it made me worried, his almost blind allegiance to the marauders. i loved the boys too, but could and would point out when they fucked up. i didn’t think that he could.

it had all culminated in me breaking it off. i didn’t want to be the person to pose the ultimatum of ‘them or me’ - because i felt that it would wield an answer i couldn’t bear. so, i split us quietly, quickly and without hassle.

i mean, if you count nights of drunkenly sobbing into lily or meredith’s shoulders as ‘without hassle’.

eventually, i came to the realization that snape was as much of a bastard as the boys had made him out to be. he’d had the fucking audacity to verbally abuse lily in front of me - it took both her and meredith stopping me from shoving my foot so far up his ass-

anyways.

by then, i couldn’t exactly take back what i did to remus, even if i knew he was right. i’d never told him this disagreement was the reason for our split in the first place - so i couldn’t exactly bring it up now.

and it was just so frustrating, because it was easy to get back into my normal grooves with sirius, james and peter again. going from classmates back to friends with them was easy - but how do you go from friends, to lovers, to strangers, to friends with someone?

especially when that someone seems to be avoiding you. and asking the others about him just seemed desperate and almost pitiful. so, we opted to just avoid each other and, if we couldn’t, to ignore each other.

sometimes, though, i’d catch his eyes from across the room in classes or the common room, or from the other end of the table at the dining hall. i could tell he’d look at me occasionally, but could never really figure out why. nor could i find myself blaming him, as i found myself doing the same - seeking him out whenever i knew he was in the same room as me.

that was what brought me here. sipping on a butterbeer in front of sirius.

“why would you ask that? why would i be looking for him?”

“i dunno - you’ve got that lost look in your eyes. like i’m not the guy you wanna be drinking with right now.” i scoff playfully.

“what? you’re a great drinking buddy!”

“haha,” it’s sarcastic, and he goes quiet for a second, “but, seriously, he’s been mumbling about you.” i furrow my brows.

“sorry, mumbling?” he shrugs.

“yeah, in his sleep - he says your name. he only does it when he’s stressed, honestly, it’s been driving me insane.” i gulp, suddenly feeling very guilty.

“is - is he okay?” he shrugs again.

“really not sure, he’s been acting odd lately. oh! you know when lily stays at her parents for the winter instead of staying here?” i nod slowly, “and james get’s all reclusive and pouty?”

“yeah, what-”

“that’s what remus’s like now.” my eyes widen, the analogy perfectly describing the scene. my mouth’s suddenly dry, and i feel myself start to fidget nervously with my cup.

“can i-”

“see him? he’s in the dorm. i’ll tell james and peter to stay here.” i give a short, appreciative smile, before my face contorts into worry again. placing my cup with him and pushing off my chair, i bounded up the stairs to the dorms. reaching theirs, i knock lightly on the door. nothing, so i try it again. this time, i hear a low groan from inside, and i quickly open the door.

remus’s sprawled on the windowsill, hands covering his face - his hair and clothes all messy. i rush to him, taking his hands off his face as he slowly opens his eyes. the smell of firewhiskey hits me like a train when i reach him - and i quickly realize why, upon seeing an almost-half-empty bottle of the stuff on his bedside table.

“y/n?” he asks, speech a bit slow and slurred.

“remus, are you okay?” his hands are in mine, and he clutches them a little more tightly as he falls into a fit of drunken giggles.

“‘m just fine - you’re here now!” i breathe a sigh of relief - his corny flirting a sure-fire indicator that he was just fine.

“god, you scared me. why’d you drink so much, anyways?” he shrugged.

“missed you.” i sighed, my guilt creeping its way up my body, “wanted to talk to you. peter said you’d come.” i look at him, his dazed but loving expression plastered clearly on his face.

“why’d you need to drink to talk to me?” he pauses.

“get too flustered, normally. y’make me nervous.” i scoff, one of shock.

“i make you nervous?” he nods, his arms finding themselves around my waist and pulling closer to him.

“fuck, just wanna tell you how i’m doing. want you to tell me how you’re doing.” i giggle as he pushes his forehead against my cheek.

it’s so normal, just like we used to be. huddled up in his dorm, just talking to each other.

“you can do that, remus. how are you?”

“so drunk.” he laughs, and i laugh a little too. it’s silent for a few seconds. i appreciate the heat of his body, the sweetness of his breath, the way his hair tickles my cheek, “missed you.”

“i missed you, too.”

“i tried to let you ago. couldn’t.” i sigh.

“can’t let you go either.”

“just wanna talk to you again.”

“then talk.”

and he did. he talked, in his drunken stupor, until we heard the commotion of the party from downstairs die down. until we could feel the soft tendrils of the first rays of the sun.

that was when he stopped. but only for a minute.

“can i kiss you?” i look at his face, the drunken haziness - while still there - overpowered by that intensity from the day i told him that i love him.

“please.”

and kiss me, he did.

on the windowsill that started it all.

#harry potter imagine #harry potter #remus lupin #remus lupin oneshot #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin x reader #marauders era #hp marauders #remus lupin angst #remus lupin fluff #andrew garfield #fancast #the windowsill #daddy issues

247 notes · View notes

streamafterlaughter · 2 years ago

Text

New Kid

Chapter V: Lazy Sunday

MASTERLIST || chapter IV || playlist

summary: Eddie slept over last night, and you two plan to spend the day together, one good day this weekend where things don’t go horribly wrong

tags: eddie munson x reader, afab!nb!gn!reader, MORE ANGST, fluff, teasing, flirty eddie, mutual pining, smut tease (minors DNI), possible secondhand embarrassment warning lol, shared trauma, weed (assume all chapters have weed involved)

a/n: IM SORRY FOR ALL THE TEASING i love that pre dating butterflies shit okay i’m sorry!! Disclaimer: I do not give permission to have my work reposted on other sites. Reblogs are more than welcome, but please inform me if you find my work elsewhere unless otherwise stated. now for the fun part ;)

Eddie’s POV

I definitely could have kissed them then, Eddie kicks himself for not making a move. Your lips were right there! Less than an inch away! But, they also could have kissed me…

You exit the bathroom, wearing a baggy Looney Tunes shirt, and once again no pants. It’s like you’re trying to kill him. He’d be happy to go though, if it meant the last thing he got to see was you. You crawl back into your spot on the bed, cocooning yourself in your many blankets. Eddie does the same, his feet brushing yours briefly. It isn’t late, and Eddie isn’t the least bit tired. He doesn’t want to sleep, fearing all the minutes he’d miss where he could be talking to you instead. “I had a lot of fun today.” He finally says, lying on his side to face you.

“Me too. It seems we’re cursed to have wonderful days end in fire, though.” It’s dramatic, but the only two days the two of you have been together have both ended less than amicably. He’d do it again and again if it meant he got to spend his days with you.

“Psh, serves us right, worshiping the devil and all.” He makes you laugh, and he wants to record it, play a tape of it on loop forever. Without thinking, Eddie reaches a hand up to your face, tucking a stray hair behind your ear before resting his palm on your cheek. He feels you warm under his touch, watching your eyes close as your mouth curls into a smile. He’s about to move his hand when you turn your face into his palm, kissing the heel of his hand. Eddie’s stomach flips as your kiss sends goosebumps up his arm. Eventually, you both fall asleep like that, breathing in unison.You don’t wake up screaming this time.

—

Your POV

Today, you wake up first. Sundays always make you sad, signifying the end of your weekend, a day for finishing homework and cramming for midterms before all your tests this week. You open your eyes slowly, squinting at the sunlight coming through your window. Your back is to Eddie, and you feel his arm wrapped around your waist, his breathing even. It’s the most comfortable you’ve let yourself be with someone, despite neither of you being capable of telling the other.

You don’t want to wake him, but you feel your stomach rumble, a lack of lasagna in your stomach.

You turn around slowly, sure to keep his arm in place around you. He’s sound asleep, his lips slightly parted, face peaceful. You could watch him sleep all day if it weren't for your stomach slowly eating itself from hunger.

Finally, Eddie shifts onto his back, his arm abandoning you in the process. He stretches it above his head, opening his eyes and immediately meeting your gaze. “Good morning.” He says, a tired rasp in his voice.

“Good morning. How’d you sleep?”

“Like a log. So did you, it seems?”

“Yeah, through the whole night and everything.” Thank god, you think, you’re not sure what you would’ve done if you’d woken Eddie up screaming again.

“You talk in your sleep.” Eddie says, shifting into a sitting position.

“You’re lying.” No he’s not, you know you do. It’s usually something completely irrelevant, but that doesn’t stop the fear of not knowing what you said with Eddie in your bed.

“I’m not! It was cute.”

“What did I say?”

“A lot, most of it nonsense. Something about lemurs at one point.” Relief floods through you, grateful you didn’t out yourself in your sleep. “You said I was extremely sexy.”

A lump forms in your throat, your mouth is suddenly dry, while the rest of your face breaks into a sweat. You blink rapidly, attempting to free the tears welling in your eyes. He looks at you closely, as if studying your reaction, before letting go a sudden cackle. “I’m kidding!”

You release the breath you didn’t know you were holding, and nervously laugh with him. “You’re awful!” You accuse, swinging your feet onto the floor. “I’m gonna take a shower, you feel like going to breakfast?”

“Sure you’re not sick of me yet?”

“There is nothing to get sick of.”

“Psh, whatever, go shower, I’ll be here, and totally not thinking about you in there.” You snap your head to look at him.

Eddie reaches over to your bedside table, picking up your beaten copy of The Bell Jar. He opens it to the first page before glancing up at you, frozen in place while you process what just came out of his mouth.

Eddie doesn’t explain himself, but lifts his hand and shoos you away. You don’t know what to say, what the fuck could you say?! You stumble into the bathroom, clicking the lock behind you.

—

Eddie’s POV

He pushes your comforter off of him, revealing the tent in his briefs. Shit, I guess I took my own joke too seriously. He should probably take care of it before you come out, because seeing you dripping from the shower definitely won't help. Being the genius that he is, he knows not to go to town on himself in your bed. It would make a mess, and with his luck you’d catch him jerking it and never look at him again.

Instead, Eddie slowly gets off your bed, lighter on his feet than any ballerina to ever exist. He tiptoes to the bedroom door, locks it, then gently sits on the floor in front of the bathroom. This way, he thinks in his horny boy brain, he’ll be able to hear you turn the water off.

Eddie breathes deeply, making sure he can hear the water behind the door. Sure enough, the spray of the water is clear as day. Underneath it, he can even hear you singing Hit Me With Your Best Shot at almost full volume. He decides it’ll be a silent session, knowing the thinness of the walls works both ways.

He works quickly, feeling the ache in his groin grow stronger with the sound of your voice so close. He pulls his underwear down just enough to free his dick from the confines. He spits in his hand, slightly disgusted with his desperate need for relief. He banishes the thought from his mind, grabbing at his cock with his now slick hand. He grips it securely, moving his fist rapidly to the sound of your voice.

He lets his mind wander, closing his eyes as the feeble attempt at release continues. He pictures you as you must be, completely naked, under hot, running water. You’re covered in a soapy lather, smoothing it into your skin. He pictures himself with you, undressing himself before entering the shower, hugging your naked body to his as the water bathes you both. He pictures kneeling before you, taking you in his mouth while your hands knot in his hair. He envisions detaching your shower head, bringing it to your clit to watch you squirm while he busies himself kissing your neck. Desperately, he imagines bending you over, fucking you while the water hits your back, while you fight to keep your footing as he makes you come against the tile.

His thoughts escape him, growing less and less appropriate as he brings himself to climax. He shoots his load into his hand while groaning quietly, and immediately wipes it on the inside of his shirt.

—

Your POV (occurring simultaneously with Eddie’s)

You try to steady yourself, looking at your reflection in the small bathroom mirror, taking deep breaths. Thinking about me? In here? Is he serious? He can’t be serious. You go around like this for a good two minutes, justifying his words to yourself. Finally, you decide to relieve yourself of some stress. You’ve earned it after spending the entire weekend with Eddie and not jumping his bones.

You shed your clothes, dropping them in the hamper beside the sink. You wait for the water to warm, singing Pat Benatar’s Hit Me With Your Best Shot, a go to showering tune. Once in the tub, you free your hands to roam your body, reaching your fingers between your legs to feel the wetness that had accumulated long before showering. You lean against the cold tile, bringing your middle finger to play with your clit, rubbing eager circles, letting your imagination run wild.

You imagine Eddie in your bed, reading your book. You picture exiting the bathroom, forfeiting the towel as soon as he looks from the book to you. You stroll over to him, still dripping wet from the shower, completely naked, and crawl on top of him. Because it’s your daydream, of course he welcomes you, taking you by the waist and sitting you on his lap. You can almost feel his hard cock under you, and you stifle a moan into your shoulder, hoping Eddie can’t hear you sinning from the bed. The daydream continues until you've grown desperate, yanking your shower head from the wall and bringing it between your legs. Finally, your knees shake as you orgasm, thinking of Eddie’s head between your thighs as you do. Once you compose yourself, you shut the water off, feeling somehow much dirtier than when you got in.

—

Eddie’s POV

Eddie scrambles from his spot on the floor when he hears the water turn off. He grabs his jeans and pulls them on, jumping as he struggles to get them over his sweaty legs. He turns around to find you, wrapped only in a towel, watching as he fumbles for his belt.

“I uh, forgot my clothes.” You say, not meeting his eyes. He cant help but feel flattered by your flustered reaction. There may be hope for him yet.

“Who needs ‘em.” He lets himself flirt with you, accepting that if you wanted him to stop, you’d tell him.

You hide your face from him, not willing to let him know his comment makes your stomach flip “Uh, we do, if we’re going to breakfast.” You pull a U2 shirt your dad got you when he saw them live, and a pair of acid wash distressed jeans. You throw a second shirt, a Blondie one you bought too big, at his chest. “For your modesty.” You laugh as he looks at Debbie Harry’s face, then back to yours.

“Seriously?”

“You’re the one with their tape in your car!” Before he can argue, you skip back to the bathroom to change, and probably splash some cold water on your face.

When you come back, he’s put the shirt on, and it hugs his chest and arms with just enough give that it accentuates his lean figure without looking too tight. “Looks good.” You mean it, and he thanks you with a stupid grin.

—

Your POV

“C’mon, I’ll drive!” You shout, scooping your keys from the hook at the front door. “Bye, parents!” You call, running out the door with Eddie right on your heels. In the car, you plug in your Judas Priest tape, something you only remembered you had seeing the poster on Eddie’s wall. Eddie busts out his best air guitar to Breaking the Law, and you chime in with the best metal rasp you can muster. There I was completely wasting, out of work and down All inside it’s so frustrating as I drift from town to town, Feel as though nobody cares if I live or die, So I might as well begin to put some action in my life, You know what it’s called… You reach the diner, a humble building on the outskirts of town. “We stopped here on our way in, I assume you’ve been here?”

“Believe it or not, I haven’t. I never really come this way.” The diner is close to the edge of town, something Eddie only ventures out of to visit War Zone when he makes enough for a new leather jacket, and that’s in the other direction.

“Well, their pancakes are to die for.”

The waitress at the host stand is a frazzled middle aged lady, wearing an apron covered in coffee stains. The diner bustles before you, women speed walking from table to table, serving mugs of coffee and plates of steaming eggs and bacon. The waitress greets you with a big, fake smile, and leads you to a booth in the far corner. “What can I get ya started with, lovebirds?” She asks, her pad and pen at the ready.

“Oh, we’re not-“ Eddie starts, but you interrupt, “We will have two coffees, one black, one with room for milk, and two short stacks of your chocolate chip pancakes. Oh! And two sides of bacon, please.” You hand the menus back to her, and she nods, walking off to the kitchen. “Trust me?” You reach your arms across the table, and Eddie takes your hands and nods.

Eddie’s POV

“So? You ask, stuffing the fluffy pancake in your mouth. Eddie makes a scene of cutting into his own slowly, bringing it to his lips, and chewing it carefully. He closes his eyes, as if cutting off one of his senses will amplify the others. Once he swallows, he opens his eyes wide, rolling them back into his head. “Fucking delicious.”

You beam at him, grateful to watch him enjoy himself, and pour maple syrup on your bacon. Eddie gives you a look of feigned disgust. You wave a sticky strip at him. “Try it!”

He obliges eagerly, taking a bite from the bacon still in your hand. You wait for his response, and after a minute of deciding, he says, “I’ll never doubt you again.”

For a while, you eat in silence, each in your own head as you watch the people bustle around the restaurant. When you’ve finished half your plate, Eddie speaks. “What are we doing today?”

You look up from your plate to meet his gaze. “We’re doing something right now aren’t we?”

“I mean, after this. You got any plans?”

“I’m at your disposal, if you’ll have me.”

Eddie can’t help the laugh that leaves his throat. If only you knew how badly it aches to think of going home. Not after the weekend you’ve both had. “There’s a decent record store downtown, if you’re interested?”

You nod your head vigorously.

When the check comes, you both reach for it. “Hey, you drove.” Eddie insists, pulling his wallet from his back pocket. You go to protest, but he holds a hand up to shush you, pulling two crisp 20s from the center fold, placing it under his empty mug. You cross your arms, twisting your face into a pout. “I am an empowered person, I can take care of myself.” You joke.

“I totally agree with you. But I also want you to save that money for the dime you’re about to drop on music.” He won’t hear your rebuttal, so you slide out of the booth, and he rises behind you.

—

Your POV

Eddie directs you through Hawkins, letting himself slip into tangents involving the places you pass. “And there is where I spent the night for public intoxication,” He points out your window to the Hawkins Police Department. “Chief Hopper stayed with me that night. I was only sixteen, walking home from a party, and he was out patrolling. He called my house, but no one came to pick me up. Dad was on a bender, mom was… god knows where.” You listen to every word as he glosses over his troubled adolescence. You feel deeply sad for him, and yearn to go back in time and tell your parents to move to Indiana four years earlier. “Here we are!” You pull up to a plaza, containing a pizza place that’s closed on Sundays, a nail salon, and the record store, aptly named Record Scratches. Eddie holds the door to the shop for you, the bell ringing lightly as you enter.

Inside, the walls are lined with shelves and shelves of records, both pristinely cling wrapped as well as old and dusty. Through the store speakers, you can just make out the words to Close To Me by The Cure: I’ve waited hours for this, I’ve made myself so sick, I wish I’d stayed asleep today, I never thought this day would come. The kid at the counter cant be older than sixteen, dressed in a denim jacket layered over a Tears for Fears shirt. “Hey, Liam!” Eddie greets him, and he returns the hello with an excited wave.

“Hi, Eddie! Welcome back.”

“This is Y/N, I’m sure they’ll become a frequent patron of yours.” You give the kid a wave that he returns. “Let me know if you need help with anything, though Eddie could probably help you better than I could.” He says, then returns to taking inventory of the box of vinyl on the counter.

Eddie migrates to the metal section, while you linger around the punk records towards the middle. You brush the covers of Bad Brains, Black Flag, The Clash, and Dead Kennedys. At the end of each aisle are cassette tapes of more music, perfect for playing in your car. You decide there that you’ll get Eddie something, preferably that you like and have confidence he’ll also enjoy. You look over to him, engrossed in the art of a Motörhead record. After plenty of consideration, you choose The Runaways self titled record, remembering how you would play You Drive Me Wild in the car on your way to your guitar lessons, giving yourself something to work towards: You know when you’re close, you really turn me on. That’s why I want you so bad when you’re gone, Yeah! Come on, come on and take me home, Please stay with me, and don’t you leave me alone… You decide to grab Kate Bush’s Hounds of Love on vinyl as well, currently only possessing it as a cassette tape.

—

Eddie’s POV (simultaneously with yours)

He settles toward the back of the store, where the metal records collect dust in a dark corner, isolated even in his favorite place. He wants to get you a record, something that proves he’s got good taste, but will still impress you. He looks up at you, across the store, digging in the punk records. He watches the way you smile when you find a record you’re looking for, inspecting used ones for scratches. Selfishly, he wants you like this all the time. A lazy Sunday spent with you at a diner, a record store, or even on the couch. He scours over the collection, barely bigger than his own. A few jump to mind: Black Sabbath, Iron Maiden, Metallica, Judas Priest. He knows you like those bands, though, leaving very little to his imagination. He wants to wow you, for some reason. He finds you difficult to read, still not able to tell how you feel about him. He goes over every shelf, it seems, inspecting records for tracks that trigger something within him, that compel him to purchase it for someone like you.

He’s about to lose hope when he spots it, tucked away in the back of the wrong lettered section: Metal Health by Quiet Riot. He recalls the lyrics to Love’s A Bitch fondly, Love’s got me by the ass again, I’ve been in love since I don’t know when, I keep running and I don’t know why, Love’s given me a crock of lies, out of breath and I’m out of time. He tucks the record under his arm, and decides to also grab himself a copy of Autoamerican on his way by the alternative section, swearing not to tell you.

—

Your POV

“I got you something.” Eddie says as you exit the shop, and you look at him with disbelief.

“You’re not gonna believe this, but I got you something, too.”

Eddie gives you a smile, curing you of any nerves. “On three?”

“One”

Two,”

“Three!” You both pull records out of your bags. “Autoamerican? I have that already.”

Eddie does a double take. “Shit.” He switches the record for Quiet Riot’s, handing it to you. You hand him the Runaways album, and take yours from his hand. The cover shows a man in a straight jacket and a mask that looks like a jail for your face. He inspects the Runaways record, flipping it to read the tracks on the back.

“Thank you,” you whisper it, almost not wanting him to hear you.

“You wanna go home and listen?” Eddie asks, an excited smile spread across his face.

“Yours or mine?”

“Whichever,” he shrugs, thinking home is wherever you are. You decide to go back to yours to switch into Eddie’s van before going to his.

—

Eddie’s POV

At the trailer, he opens the door to the van, then his front door for you. “Player’s in my room.” He points loosely to the back of the trailer, grabbing his supply of weed off the kitchen counter to bring with him.

He enters the room, eyeing as you slip Metal Health from its sleeve, placing it gently in the player. He can’t lie to himself, he’s ecstatic you chose to listen to that one first.

The first track, named for the album, starts at a low volume, but he watches you crank it as he lights a joint, banging your head to the beat.

Eddie doesn’t know what comes over him, but he takes you by the hand, dragging you to the middle of his bedroom. He twirls you like he would at a prom, grooving in time with you. When you’re facing him again, he brings the joint up to your lips and watches you inhale. Your face is flushed, hair still windblown from the drive over. The chorus kicks in, Bang your head, Metal health’ll drive you mad, and you jump on top of the bed, bouncing up and down as you continue obeying, whipping your head around like Eddie did the night of the Corroded Coffin show.

He watches you in awe, admiring your lack of inhibition, truly enjoying yourself. You’ve got the brightest smile on your face as you point at Eddie, telling him to join you on your makeshift stage.

When the guitar solo starts, Eddie whips out the trusty air guitar, hopping on the bed with you. As the song fades into the next track, the two of you flop down on the bed, laughing and out of breath.

“What are we doing?” Eddie yells over the music.

“Enjoying ourselves!” You shout back, flinging his arms around his neck, bringing him into a bear hug. He hugs you back, no hesitation about it, and holds you there for a minute, relishing in the smell of your hair as it tickles his nose.

When you loosen your grip, but you hover in front of his face, your own inches away, arms still clasped around him.

“That’s not what you meant, was it?”

“Not exactly, but you’re right. I have been enjoying myself.”

“But is that enough for you?” You reach over to turn the music down so you don’t have to shout. Your eyes are filled with concern, and his heart melts.

“More than enough. Is it enough for you?”

You shake your head briefly, “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking this weekend.”

“Do tell.” His heart aches with anticipation.

You’re silent for a second, considering your words carefully. “I didn’t come here planning to make friends. I wanted to focus on school, get the hell out, and then worry about my social life.”

Eddie nods, feeling his heart crack as he looks at you.

“But,” You pause, adjusting your grip around his neck, “that’s not what happened. I met you. And I’m so glad I did.”

Eddie breaks into another huge smile then, moving his arms to wrap around your waist as you both shift in the bed. He speaks finally, “I’m so fucking glad I met you.” He’s had it with the subtleties, he moves one arm from your waist to tuck a flyaway behind your ear, focusing on your ear instead of your eyes.

—

Your POV

The warmth of his hand heats your face, surely making it redder than it already is. You look at him, at his lips: pink and so unbelievably soft, his pupils large making dark brown eyes almost black. The dimple in his cheek grows as he meets your eyes.

“What are you thinking about?” He asks you, barely a whisper.

“How badly I want you to kiss me.” The words leave your mouth before you can stop them, and you look away. It’s the first time you admit it, and you feel a weight lift off your chest. Your heart beats faster, and it’s so loud in your ears that you’re convinced he can hear it too.

“Yeah?” Eddie cups a hand under your chin. He doesn’t seem fazed by your words. In fact, he seems elated to hear it, quirking an eyebrow at you, almost skeptical.

You take his hand from your face and move it over the left side of your chest. “Does it feel like I’m joking right now?”

He looks from your face to where his hand sits, right on top of your breast with your full consent. The look of shock is quickly replaced with one of mischief. As if you couldn’t get any warmer, the words leave his lips so close to yours that his breath is hot on your face. “Kiss me first.” You shake your head as if the entire scene is taking place in your brain rather than right in front of you. He leans further into you, taking your face back in his hand. He’s an inch, less than that, away from your lips, you can almost taste him. Your eyes close slowly, and you pucker your lips as subtly as you can manage… and nothing happens.

Instead of connecting your lips, he widens his smile, watching your reaction to his teasing. You open one eye to catch him gawking at your face. “What the hell?”

A cackle breaks the tension as Eddie throws his head back. It shatters you, watching him find amusement in your vulnerability. So much so, you decide then and there that your seven minutes in Heaven are over. He’s still laughing as you mumble “I gotta go.” shoving off of Eddie’s bed to go look for your shoes. You stifle your tears as your chest heaves, threatening to burst right in front of Eddie. “Wait, Y/N, I didn’t mean—“ You slam his bedroom door behind you and make a run for the outside.

“Wait, hold on!” Eddie calls for you, but it’s too late. You’ve slipped outside, abandoning the record in the player, storming out of his trailer with a slam of the door.

“Y/N!” Eddie calls from the porch as you stomp out of earshot. It’s pouring now, and you totally forgot you switched cars, so you’re stuck walking home, a direction you barely remember when you’re not crying.

You faintly hear Eddie calling for you, and he’s sure to at least follow to the edge of the park, but you don’t turn around. You’ll walk the block for an hour in the rain, maybe, clear your head. Was this all a fucking joke to him? Did he not feel anything for you? He did a great fucking job pretending.

There’s about an inch of water in your shoes as you exit onto the main road. Maybe a nice truck driver will pick you up, whisking you away from this Hellish town with its charming, beautiful, and deceitful boys. You don’t bother to hide your tears anymore, no one can see them in the rain.

“Y/N! I’m sorry!” Eddie’s voice is closer now, but you don’t dare turn around until you feel him tug on your shoulder, forcing you to face him.

“What the fuck was that?” You whip around to look up at him, the rain dripping from his hair into his face, soaking into his clothes the same way it must be yours. “That shit’s not funny.”

“I know. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it to hurt your feelings. I just—I was so surprised.”

“What? Surprised that I actually believed you’d kiss me?! How fucking dare I, honestly?” You spit your words with a harsh venom behind them. “With you looking at me the way you do, touching me the way you do. Forgive me, Eddie, for thinking I had a sliver of a chance with you.” It feels like you’re losing your mind, having deluded yourself into believing Eddie felt the same way you do. “You know what, you’re a fucking freak.” You both flinch at the word when it leaves your lips, and you instantly regret it. It’s a low blow, and one you’ve been on the receiving end of plenty of times. “Eddie, I—“

“No, it’s okay. I deserve that. I am. What type of person falls for someone over the course of one week? Who else laughs when they finally get the chance they’ve been wishing for since day one? I wanted to kiss you. I want to kiss you now. But, I can’t.”

“What the fuck does that even mean, Eddie? It sounds like you don’t want to kiss me.”

“It means once I kiss you, that’s it. No one’s left wondering what could have been. I have been wracking my brain trying to figure you out, the best way to do it, and I’ve come up with nothing. I’ve had so many chances and none of them felt good enough. I wanted to make it special, and when the opportunity finally revealed itself, I fucked it up!” He flails his arms above his head in exasperation, shouting over the sound of rain on the roofs of the trailers behind him. “I was so desperate to get this right that I made it so much worse.”

“And you don’t think spending this whole weekend together; comforting each other through being beaten up, my nightmares, my grandmother, staying up all night to talk, falling asleep in each other’s beds— you don’t see how special any of that is? I had so many opportunities to go home, Eddie. I could have bolted after the party Friday, could have sent you home when I saw my grandmother. You could have kicked me out after my episode, told me to go fuck myself and sleep on the couch. Not fucking once did I want to leave you until you laughed at me like that.” Your voice breaks, and you release a chest rattling sob into the air. “Why would you laugh at me like that?” The question barely escapes before you let yourself cry.

Your question hangs over his head like an anvil, guilt clouding his vision. Eddie covers his face with his hands, half to stifle a cry of his own, half to wipe the rain from his face. “I didn’t mean to laugh. I was so… shocked by what you said, I didn’t know what to do. I panicked. No one’s ever told me they want to kiss me and meant it, especially someone I want to kiss. I guess… I didn’t believe you.” The words break your heart into even smaller pieces. You dare take a step closer to Eddie, quietly so he can’t hear you do so over the rain. You drag your feet closer to where he stands, eventually your toes only an inch apart. He notices, looking up from his feet to squint at you through the storm. “I am so fucking sorry.”

“I guess it’s okay.” You swat the tears from your eyes. “You should probably grovel, though, just to make sure.”

Eddie doesn’t hesitate. He drops to his knees, soaking them through with mud as he clasps his hands together in prayer. “Please, Y/N, forgive me for all I’ve done. I live to serve you and you alone. What shall I do to make it up to you?”

You bend down to his eye level, cupping his chin in your hand. His skin is wet under your equally rain soaked touch, your thumb slipping quickly over his bottom lip. “Whatever you feel is appropriate.” You tease before standing again, walking past him back to his trailer.

Before you can get far, he grabs your wrist, using you to pull himself back up. In one swift motion, you’re spun to face him, and he closes the space between you, finally connecting his lips to yours. It’s as if the storm has stopped, as if the world freezes on its axis in the brightest sunspot, your whole body melting with his touch. You’re numb to the rain, only concentrating on how soft his lips are on yours, the way his fingers grip your hips, the way he tastes like weed, cigarettes, and mint. You wrap your arms around his neck, tangling your fingers in his wet hair, and he lifts you off your feet, making sure your lips stay securely connected.

“I should get you home, huh?” He says, ending the kiss much to your disapproval, that stupid smile back on his face as he puts you on the ground. You give him a pout in response, and he plants a second, too-quick kiss on your lips. “C’mon, we can throw your clothes in the dryer before you leave.” He holds out his hand for you to take, and you do, following Eddie back into his trailer.

chapter VI

—

tag list: @children-of-the-grave @beebeerockknot @five-bi-five || send a message to be added!🫶

#st #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #stranger things fan fiction #stranger things 4 #eddie munson #willow writes sins #new kid fic #chapter fic #slow burn #angst #fluff #smut #strangers to lovers #mutual pining

81 notes · View notes

sundrop-tetsu · 3 years ago

Text

Everything Back But You

Bakugou Katsuki x Reader

Genre: Angst, bit of fluff between the reader & izuku

warnings/things to know: non-binary!reader. katsuki is such an asshole. cheater!bakugou. bit of fluff. supportive!midoriya

inspired by: everything back but you by Avril Lavigne

Part 2: Now available ! <3

“Move out of the doorway.” Your voice sounded so empty.

Midoriya’s eyes widened with worry, but he moved away and let you pass by.

You threw your damn backpack down before sitting in your seat. Of all days, this shit had to happen on a fucking Sunday, which meant school the next day.

Midoriya went over and sat by you, he gave a little frown before setting something down on your desk. You looked down to see a small plastic bag filled with bekko candy.

You smiled softly, “Thank you.”

He sighed before nodding, “How’d it go?”

You brought your phone out before typing your password and showing the message to Midoriya. In bright light, the message read:

Bakugou: I wish you were her.

Midoriya cringed at the stupid message, “He’s a dick, y/n. I’m really sorry.”

“No, it’s my fault.” Your voice cracked, angry tears wanting to escape your beautiful eyes.

“He left out the e. He left without me.”

“And now, he’s somewhere out there with that bitch, slut, backstabbing traitor!” The others in the classroom turned towards you with worried expressions.

“STOP STARING!” You yelled before slamming your forehead onto the desk.

Midoriya frowned before coming closer and holding your left hand in his.

“I hate him,” you whispered, “why are guys so lame?”

Midoriya gave an offended expression as to tease you, you chuckled at the adorable face he gave.

“Except you, my little hero.” You ruffled his green hair playfully before he smiled at you with small blush tinting his cute face.

“I should’ve known, honestly. Jirou kept trying to tell me. And I wouldn’t believe her until she showed me real footage.”

“Y/n,” Midoriya whispered, “You were in love. You believed that someone you cared about wouldn’t hurt you the way he did.”

“I bet he didn’t think I would find out. And her of all people. I thought she was my friend.”

Midoriya put his arms around you, he sighed before softly kissing your forehead, “You’ll get through this. You’re stronger than you believe.”

You smiled, those tears finally escaping as you relaxed in his arms.

A few minutes until the bell rings for class.

The door to the classroom opened and in walked in another student. You didn’t see who it was, honestly you were just playing with Midoriya’s hand as you laid in his arms. A growl was heard behind you before you felt Midoriya’s body tense up.

“Go away. They don’t want to talk to you.” You heard Midoriya angrily exclaim.

You tensed up yourself when you realized who it was. Your teeth clenched and you quickly got up, letting go of Midoriya’s hand. Bakugou stood before you with a glared expression.

“You didn’t answer your phone last night. And now I catch you in that stupid nerd’s arms, holding his hand like he’s your boyfriend or something?”

You scoffed, “Oh please. Leave Izuku out of this. At least he cares about my feelings.”

“What the hell are you talking about, shitty woman. You’ve been ignoring me, I haven’t done anything wrong-”

“Give that back.” You whispered, pointing to his left wrist.

He raised an eyebrow before looking down at his wrist. A bracelet stood proud with the words “y/n’s wonderful boyfriend.”

“What the hell? Why? It was a birthday gift, it’s mine.”

“You lost that privilege when Jirou showed me those photos.” He didn’t hear you, but he knew you said something.

“Y/n. What’s going on? Why are you acting this way.”

“I know that you cheated on me.” You managed to get out.

His eyes widened (similar to the gif). He looked like the just saw a ghost.

“W-What?”

“Don’t play so innocently! I fucking knew it. I should’ve listened to Jirou.” You hit your fists on his chest, hoping you caused at least some harm.

“Why would you even think I cheated on you?!” He angrily yelled, throwing his backpack on the floor.

“I wish I was Uraraka, too,” you admitted, “the woman is gorgeous. And she has a nice figure.”

Bakugou clenched his fist.

“But you would know that, am I right?”

The classroom stayed silent. The bell had finally rung. Class was now in session.

Aizawa opened the door before walking in a tired expression, “Alright, sit down. Quickly-” He paused when he looked up and saw the scene.

“Give it back,.” you said once more.

“Y/n please,” he started, “I- I didn’t mean-”

The classroom door opened again, the girl of the topic herself walked in with a small smile that quickly fell when she saw the glares of her fellow classmates.

“Guys?” She quietly asked.

Jirou scoffed before walking over to her. A smack on her left cheek.

“Little bitch.” Jirou whispered before trying to hit her again, Kaminari came over and held Jirou this time before she could hit Uraraka once more.

“What are you doing?” Jirou asked.

“She’s not worth getting in trouble for.” Kaminari reassured her.

Uraraka frowned, holding her cheek before turning towards you and Bakugou’s little scene. Her eyes widened as she realized what was going on.

“Y-Y/n, wait. Let me explain.” Uraraka tried to walk up, she didn’t want to lose a friend over a stupid mistake.

Iida blocked her from continuing. Uraraka looked up at him with a surprised expression. People who were her friends.. are turning their backs on her now.

“Leave them alone,” Iida started, “You’ve done enough damage.” He glared at her before crossing his arms.

You smiled at both Jirou and Iida’s gestures before turning back towards Bakugou. Your eyes filled with such disappointment and hatred.

“Y/n, can we please just talk about this later?”

“Give. It. Back.”

“Teddy bear, don’t do this-”

“Everything I gave you… I want everything back but you.”

385 notes · View notes

hawks-supremacy · 3 years ago

Text

False Soulmates

summary: you fantasized about meeting your soulmate all the time when you were a kid, but when you finally meet him you begin to think having a soulmate isn't all that it's cut out to be

pairing: oikawa x reader

warnings: swearing, angst

genre: angst to fluff

word count: 3.7k

a/n: It's my birthday! I turned 21 which means I can now legally do basically anything. It also mans this is the last fic for the seven days up until my birthday.

Everyone in the world is born with a soulmate, their other half. When you speak your first words the first words your soulmate says to you appear on you. Some people can go their whole lives without meeting theirs. They don’t search or they’re on the other side of the world. For some people this is okay and they simply marry someone else. You don’t need your soulmate to live a happy life. However, life is better with your soulmate. It’s the person who was made to understand and accept everything about you. Life wasn’t picture perfect, soulmates still fought. It was just better.

Ever since your parents explained to you what the words on your ribs meant you couldn’t wait to meet your soulmate. You fantasized about it everyday, what they would look like or act like. You were constantly daydreaming about the day you’d meet the person who said those words that were permanently etched into your skin. Of course you hoped you’d have easier words than “hey cutie” but at least you knew he thought you were cute. Now you were just hoping you didn’t say something stupid in return.

It was your first year at Aoba Johsai when you unfortunately met your soulmate. Where you learned he greeted nearly everyone with “hey cutie” and before you could respond he was whisked away by his best friend. It was your first year when you learned your soulmate was Oikawa Toru and it was your first year when you learned some people will do anything to be with whoever they want.

You overheard girls constantly going up to Oikawa claiming to be his soulmate and you constantly heard him tell them that they weren’t. You hated having the locker across from his. He got notes from girls who said that he was their soulmate but they were too shy to tell him in person. He got people trying to guess what his soulmate's first words were. You hated having a locker across from him because you overheard him tell Iwaizumi that he was tired of people pretending they were his soulmate.

It was your second year when you finally worked up the courage to talk to Oikawa and it was your second year when you learned you hated your soulmate. You walked up to the locker ready to explain that you were his soulmate and you were too scared to tell him when he yelled at you. Before you could get a word out he was telling you to go away.

It was after school and you stayed late in the library to tutor someone in your class. You went to your locker and saw Oikawa at this locker with his friends. You figured now would be the best time since it was just the five of you and the school was empty. You took a deep breath and took the three steps across the hallway to Oikawa’s locker. You were about to speak when he beat you to it. “Could you stop? God I am so tired of all of you pretending to be my soulmate when you’re not. Do you know how hard that makes it for me? You’re all so annoying just leave me alone.” You stood there as he yelled at you for trying to talk to him. You stood there as you felt your heart breaking when you barely even knew Oikawa. When he was done speaking you just turned and walked away as you felt tears streaming down your face.

It was the next day at school when Oikawa apologized to you for yelling at you. You just nodded and walked away, still too embarrassed to talk to him. It was a few weeks later when he started dating the volleyball team manager. That was when you had to listen to your soulmate talk about how he finally found his “soulmate”. You listened as he talked about his “soulmate” to his friends and about how amazing she was. You watched as she went up to Oikawa and pretended to be someone she wasn’t. You thought your soulmate yelling at you was the worst thing that could happen to you, but you were wrong.

It was a month after Oikawa had started dating her when you rounded the corner to the exit of the school and heard his girlfriend talking to her friends. You felt bad as you eavesdropped but the guilt you felt was quickly overtaken with anger. “We know he’s not your soulmate, so how’d you get him to believe you were?” One of her friends asked. “Well at practice one day I saw his soulmate mark. So I just went up to him and said it. Easy as that, he didn’t really question it since we’ve never spoken prior to that.”

“So you lied to him? How considerate of you. How long do you think you can keep that up?” You asked, turning the corner. “However long I want. It’s not like you’re going to tell him.” She scoffed and walked away leaving you in the hallway. You thought about as you walked home, you may not be on the best terms with Oikawa due to the fact he unknowingly ripped out your heart and stomped on it; but you also couldn’t let this girl pretend to be his soulmate. So you decided you would tell him.

The next day at school you went to tell Oikawa about what you heard yesterday, however, when you went to go talk to him he walked away from you. You thought he just didn’t see you so you figured you’d try again later, but he walked away from you again and again, and again. Every time you tried to talk to him he avoided you. You eventually found Iwaizumi and decided to tell him in hopes he would pass the message onto Oikawa.

“Iwaizumi, can I talk to you for a second?” He turned around as you approached him with the question. “Oikawa’s girlfriend isn’t his soulmate.” Iwaizumi rolled his eyes, mumbling whatever and turned around. You ran in front of him preventing him from moving , “I’m being serious. I don’t know how or when but at some point she saw his soulmate words and used them to make it seem like she was his soulmate. I heard her tell her friends yesterday.”

“Look Y/n,” he started off with a sigh, “She told us you were going to try to split them up. We didn’t really believe her at first, but you just proved her point. I don’t know what motive you have for doing this but you should really stop. First you tried to pretend like you were his soulmate and now you’re claiming his actual soulmate is lying about it? Just leave him alone.” He finished walking around you.

You turned around as frustrated tears started welling up in your eyes, “I am his soulmate asshole! You both are jerks, I don’t want him as my soulmate anyway. Wish him luck for me.” He turned around looking shocked at how genuine you sounded and how hurt you looked. He started saying your name before you cut him off, “Forget it Iwaizumi, he clearly doesn’t want me as his either.” You walked away leaving Iwaizumi with more doubts than what he started with.

Iwaizumi and Oikawa were hanging out at Iwaizumi’s house studying when Iwaizumi brought you up, “Y/n stopped me at school today.” He said testing the waters. “Oh yeah? What’d they say?” Oikawa responded, bored with the conversation already. “They said that they overheard Himari say she wasn’t your soulmate. That she saw your soulmate words and that’s how she knew what to say.” Iwaizumi stopped studying and looked up at Oikawa who paused what he was writing before rolling his eyes and continuing his homework.

“That doesn’t make any sense, besides Himi said they would try and break us up. What would she gain out of pretending to be my soulmate anyway?” Oikawa mumbled. Iwaizumi thought for a second before remembering the hurt look on your face and the sound of your voice. “Y/n also said that they were your soulmate, and before you say anything you didn’t hear their voice or the look on their face. They were really hurt.

Oikawa sighed, setting his pencil down and looking at Iwaizumi annoyed, “I don’t know why we’re still talking about this. Himi said this was going to happen and it did. This also isn’t the first time Y/n tried to claim to be my soulmate. Now drop it, please.” Iwaizumi shut up for the remainder of the time.

It was your third year and Oikawa was still dating Himari, Iwaizumi never brought you up again but ever since you talked to him something about her never sat right with him. Iwaizumi had a few conversations with you since then but never brought it up to you either. You were sitting behind the school eating lunch when Iwaizumi sat down next to you, “Show me your soulmate mark.” You whipped your head towards him in confusion mumbling “what?” with a mouthful of food. “Show me your soulmate mark.” He repeated and you slowly finished the bite you were chewing, still confused. “What? Why?”

“Ever since you talked to me last year about Oikawa and Himari something never sat right with me. So show me your soulmate’s first words said to you and I’ll try and help you.” He sighed while rubbing his face. The past year had been tiring for him, he brought you up one other time to Oikawa and Himari both, but as soon as Himari started crying Oikawa snapped. “Uhm no thanks, I can tell you what it says but I’m not lifting up my shirt to show you it.” You weren’t about to lift up your shirt just to maybe prove a point. Nothing is solidified unless you actually say something to Oikawa and you doubt that’s happening anytime soon.

Iwaizumi nodded, agreeing to your terms. “It says “hey cutie” but Oikawa says that to everyone. We won’t know if it is Oikawa unless I say something to him first anyway. For all we know someone else might say that to me. I don’t even know if I want your help anyway. They seem happy just let them be, they clearly deserve each other. Maybe the universe made a mistake.” You said and returned to eating your food.

Iwaizumi leaned back against the building thinking. He’s never seen Himari’s soulmate mark but he’s seen Oikawa’s. It was in the same place as yours so he’s not sure when Himari would’ve seen it. All he knows is Himari started being the volleyball team manager as one of Oikawa’s fangirls and never spoke to Oikawa, then she just randomly walked up and talked to him. It didn’t sit right with Iwaizumi and no matter how many times Oikawa said he was happy he finally found his soulmate he never actually seemed happy.

He was about to say something when someone beat him to it. “Seriously? Are you still trying to convince Iwa that you’re my soulmate Y/n? This is starting to get pathetic and you Iwa? Are you actually entertaining this? Come on Iwa-chan, let's go.” Oikawa said, hands crossed scowling at the both of you. “How do you know they’re lying? Have you seen Himari’s soulmate mark?” Iwaizumi asked, not moving from his spot next to you on the ground. Oikawa thought for a second furrowing his eyebrows and unfurrowing them, “No but what does that have to do with anything? Are you accusing my girlfriend of lying to me? I believe Himi, she said the words that have been on me for years. It's not like it’s a coincidence.”

“How do you know Y/n’s lying? You’ve never let them say a word to you. You’ve only ever yelled at them.” Iwaizumi got up from his place on the ground defending you. You aren’t the closest or anything but after the few conversations he’s had with you, he would still consider you a friend. He liked you a whole hell of a lot more than he liked Himari that’s for sure. You got up from your place on the ground and tugged on Iwaizumi’s sleeve. “Just let it go, I don’t care anymore.” You said as he turned his head to look at you.

“No you wanna prove you’re my soulmate so bad, go ahead prove it. Say your first words to me and we can move along and I can go find Himari and continue my life. You can finally leave me alone.” Oikawa said, walking closer to you and Iwaizumi. You shook your head fed up with it already. Even if he found out you weren’t sure you wanted him to be your soulmate anyway with all that he’s put you through. Every time Oikawa opened his mouth you seemed to get more angry with him. He was still talking when you cut him off, “Fine, I’m your soulmate you asshole! Are you happy now?!”

You didn’t give anyone a chance to say anything as you stormed off. After three years of knowing Oikawa was your soulmate he finally wanted to hear you out. You couldn’t believe the nerve of him or Himari. You still don’t know why she faked being his soulmate, his fangirls are just desperate you guessed. As you walked into classes now significantly more pissed off than you were before lunch, Oikawa and Iwaizumi were talking behind the school.

“Did you tell them?” Oikawa asked, narrowing his eyes. “You’re ridiculous of course I didn’t tell them, you really think I’d do that? Besides, they sounded a lot more believable saying that then Himari did last year.” Oikawa sat on the ground leaning against the school with his head in his hands. “I’m still having a hard time believing it, I mean why would Himari do that? Oh god I was a jerk to my soulmate for two years. And they didn’t say anything. I didn’t let them say anything. I don’t think I can make this up to them. I really fucked up.”

“Yeah you did. You’re gonna spend the rest of your life digging your way out of this one. That is if Y/n gives you the chance. Even if they do, I doubt they’ll let you forget about it. First things first though, you need to break up with Himari.” Oikawa nodded as Iwaizumi patted him on the back, helping him up from the ground. They got back to class and the first thing Oikawa did once school ended was find Himari and break up with her.

A few minutes after breaking up with her he went to his locker and found Himari yelling at you. “What are you doing Himari? It’s over, they had nothing to do with it. This was all your own fault, did you honestly expect us to stay together forever? Even if they hadn’t finally gotten it through my thick skull I would’ve found out eventually.” He said standing in between you and Himari. She huffed and walked away yelling various profanities at the two of you. Oikawa turned to you to apologize but you were facing your locker, ignoring him.

“I’m sorry, I really am. I know it doesn’t help at all but I am. I was too caught up in the fact that I might’ve finally found my soulmate that I didn’t want to be told I was wrong. It still doesn’t make up for the fact that I was a jerk to you. I’m going to spend the rest of my life trying to make it up to you. Please let me try.” Oikawa leaned against the locker next to yours as he practically begged.

You closed your locker looking at Oikawa with a blank look. “No.” Oikawa looked confused as he mimicked the word in a questioning tone. “Yeah, no. Look Oikawa, you’re my soulmate but it sure as hell doesn’t feel like it. You’re right, you treated me like shit for the past year and a half. I’m not about to just forgive and forget, because while you were off playing soulmates with Himari your actual soulmate was hurt and heartbroken because you couldn’t give them the time of day. So no Oikawa I won’t let you.” You walked off for the second time today, leaving Oikawa standing in the middle of the hallway.

“You kinda deserved that one sorry dude.” Matsukawa said, clapping Oikawa on the back. “I know I just don’t know how I’m going to make it up to them. I really hurt Y/n and I don’t know how to fix it. I’m scared I’m not going to have a soulmate for very long.” Oikawa tried following you out of the school but Iwaizumi stopped him telling him to let it go for today. Oikawa listened and begrudgingly went to practice. For the first time in his life he didn’t want to go to Volleyball practice. Instead he wished he was with you desperately trying to make everything up to you Trying to patch things up.

For the next few months Oikawa spent his time constantly trying to make things up to you. He told you he was sorry at least once a week and bought your favorite snacks as gifts to you. It started off with him leaving some chocolates you didn’t much care for in your locker. When you told him you didn’t really like them his response was, “Well why don’t you tell me what you like so I can get you the proper gifts.” You just shook your head and walked away after telling him thanks. You may have been mad at him but you weren’t rude.

The second time he tried doing something to apologize he did it publicly. Iwaizumi tried to talk him out of it knowing you weren’t going to like having all of the attention but Oikawa refused to listen. So he made this big grand gesture in the middle of the cafeteria at school. You didn’t say anything as your face grew red and you walked out of the cafeteria, leaving Oikawa walking back to his friends while Iwaizumi told him, “I told you so.”

He didn’t really try to do anything big after that, just small things to let you know he was there. Eventually he started walking you to and from school after learning you didn’t live that far from each other. Slowly you started to forgive him, but you weren’t about to jump right into dating. So you stayed friends. You let him walk you to school and sat with him at lunch. You went to all of his games that you could easily travel to. You were beginning to forgive him and that’s all Oikawa could ask for.

“I’m thinking about leaving Japan after we graduate.” He said one day while you were hanging out at his house. His parents knew you guys were soulmates and gave him an earful after hearing about what he had done, his sister still teases him about it whenever she visits with Takeru. You were hanging off of his bed when he made that statement and you sat up. “Where are you gonna go?” You asked, moving to the edge of the bed. “I’m not sure yet. I have a few offers but I think I’m going to go with Brazil.” He moved from his desk to the spot next to you on the bed. “Unless you think I should stay here.”

“You think I want to be the reason you don’t follow your dreams? Hell no, Oikawa. Go to where you think is best for you and your future goals. Not where I’m gonna be. We can still facetime and call. Besides, you should be able to visit for the holidays. Who knows, maybe I’ll find a school in Brazil to go to.” Oikawa looked at you surprised, he knew you were starting to forgive him but he didn’t think you’d be willing to go with him.

“You don’t have to do that, you know. I couldn’t ask you to come with me. Of course I would love it if you would, but only if you think you’d be happy there. I’ve put you through enough Y/n I can’t ask you to do this as well.” You rolled your eyes covering his mouth with your hand. “Shut up for once. I’m not mad at you anymore, I’m never gonna let you forget it, but I’m not mad. I’m not saying I’m going to for sure go with you wherever you go and follow you blindly. I’m saying if I find a school I like and get accepted then I’ll move with you. I just got you to realize I’m your soulmate, I’m not quite ready to give that up just yet, Toru.” You finished your mini speech removing your hand from his mouth. You expected him to immediately start talking but he just stared at you for a while. “Toru? You’re freaking me out. Blink or something at least.” He didn’t say anything as he pulled you into a hug thanking you.

A few months later and you were helping pack boxes at Toru’s house, “I told you not to wait until the last minute to pack Toru. Now we’re rushing so you’re ready to leave on time.” You scolded sorting like things into boxes. “Maybe if my beautiful s/o hadn’t distracted me when I was supposed to be packing we’d be fine.” He said coming up and wrapping his arms around your waist pecking you on the cheek. You laughed as you lightly shoved him away, “Toru I’m serious we’re going to miss our flight if you don’t hurry up. I have orientation next week and you start practice soon. We need to get there early to settle into the apartment and look around the city so we’re not lost right away.”

He shook his head, laughing as he finally helped you pack his bags. Before you know it you’re in Brazil moving into an apartment with your boyfriend. Sure your relationship was rocky, but you couldn’t imagine spending your time with anyone else.

#haikyuu imagines #haikyuu oikawa #haikyuu drabbles #haikyuu imagine #haikyu x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fanfiction #soulmate au #haikyuu au #oikawa angst #oikawa imagine #hq oikawa #oikawa x reader #oikawa x you #oikawa fluff #haikyuu angst

541 notes · View notes

nahoney22 · 3 years ago

Note

I'd love to see a one shot of just something cute with Hunter 🥰 I'll leave the rest to your brilliant mind!

Intoxicating

Hunter X GNeutral! Reader

word count: 2.1k

In which you, an assigned medic to the Batch, have been injured unbeknownst to you after a mission which leads to Hunter being more moody and broody than usual which then leads to some feelings being revealed.

Warnings: Mostly SFW. Angst, some fluff, little bit of injury but nothing major and a tiny tiny hint of arousal.

A/N: okay so this is my first one shot, like ever! Feel free to lmk what you think. I’ll do requests 💜

——————————

The Bad Batch along with their newest recruit were doing what should have been a simple scout mission. With gathering the intel they needed and ready to pass it back to the Republic so they could hit their next move, the team were making their way back to the Marauder when a surprise wave of battle droids had emerged from the South just where Tech had parked the ship.

Immediately getting into position, you soon found yourself pinned back against the rear of the ship when a swarm of clankers had almost boxed you in.

You called out for backup on your Comm device, a wave of dread filling your insides as your hands started to ache from the constant firing of your blasters and trying to shield yourself with whatever was accessible; which was barely anything aside from your gear.

Switching to your left, you quickly managed to take out a Droideka that had rolled its way up to your position, knowing it to be a lot more deadly than the average clanker. You thought you were in the clear, no assistance needed as the blaster shots quietened down allowing you to breathe for a moments peace.

Your shoulders slumped but you still felt the adrenaline from the rush run through your veins. You holstered your weapons before making your way round to the front of the ship where you had heard Wrecker cheering loudly followed by a small grunt from Echo who simply said ‘we get it Wrecker, they’re dead. Stop shoving it in our faces’ to which Crosshair silently agreed before making his way up the steps and inside.

You waited for the others to head on in but paused when you saw the Sergeant marching right up to you, a face full of thunder.

“What do you think you were doing?” His tone was short and snappy when he stopped in front of you, causing you to squint at him behind your visor before pulling your helmet off your head.

“What are you talking about? I-I was doing what you guys were doing?” You defended yourself, not quite sure how to react to his sudden hostility towards you.

“You’re meant to stay behind me at all times. How’d you think it would make me look if you were injured or-or killed?”

Truth was, when you were assigned to tag along with the Bad Batch for some missions due to your medical background, you hadn’t expected to be there for any longer than a month. But here you were six months later. And still, Hunter was rather protective over you. You could hold your own, there was no deniability of that, but you would always find yourself partnered up with Hunter on missions whilst the others did their own thing. You didn’t mind it as you liked Hunter. In fact, you couldn’t help but get a little jittery when he stood close to you which made your heart beat fast. You had certainly developed some form of feelings for the clone but this sudden shortness of temper had been happening for around a week now and you wasn’t sure where you had gone wrong... if you even had.

“Why are you being like this with me? So what if I separated from you for a small while? You know I can handle myself.” You found your voice and spoke up, looking up to the Sergeant. Your eyebrows creased as you frowned at him. He was always usually soft spoken and gentle with you but these sudden mood changes were starting to drive you insane.

Before he could answer, you had turned and started to make your way up the steps to the ship when you felt a hand take a hold of your shoulder followed by a string of ‘woah woah woah’s’. You snapped your neck in his direction to see him gazing down at your legs with wide eyes and that’s when the sudden pain hit you. Conveniently, the adrenaline had soon died off and that’s when you felt the blaster shot in your thigh to which Hunter had spotted.

“Oh... Kriff.” You grumbled, bending over slightly to assess the scenario. You knew it wasn’t all too bad as you hadn’t passed out yet and you were not bleeding but Hunter clearly thought it was the worst thing to happen as he had grabbed you by the arm and hoisted you up the steps and called after for Tech.

“Tech! Come back here, now!” Hunters voice was urgent and almost furious sounding, making your eyes widen as you sat down in one of the chairs and heard the scurrying feet of Tech.

“What is it?”

Hunter only nodded down at the medics thigh and Tech pulled his lips into a straight line. “Ah. That’s not ideal.”

The comment made you stifle a small laugh at Techs blunt response but Hunter had fixed his eyes upon yours and you suddenly felt that laughter die down.

“Can you fix it or not?” Hunter was growing impatient, wiping the back of his hand across his forehead, frustrated.

“Well of course I can. But I’m sure Y/N is plenty capable of fixing an injury as small as this. We should really be departing from this planet before any others show up.” Tech informed Hunter who grumbled under his breath about getting Crosshair to get the ship flying and stormed into the cockpit, the door sliding shut.

You let out a heavy sigh and looked over to Tech who had already started gathering a stim and some bandages.

“Thanks Tech but I’m sure I can handle it.” You reached out your hand as he turned to you and he simply accepted the fact you didn’t need help but stood by just in case. As you fixed yourself up, bending your leg in and out carefully to make sure the bandage was properly secure you couldn’t help but replay the look on Hunters face when he saw your injury or when you heard the tone of his voice.

You snapped out of your thoughts briefly when Echo entered and offered you a small smile when he noticed your bandaged leg. “Say, it’s weird to see you the one bandaged up rather than one of us.”

You hummed in amusement but the smile didn’t reach your lips. “Echo, Tech, can I ask you guys something?”

“Well that depends on what it is you are asking. Are you asking about the mission? Something that none of us can feasibly answer? Is it-.”

“It’s about Hunter.” You quickly cut Tech off before he could continue, earning a playful smirk from Echo who nodded his head for you to continue. “Do you think he’s been... acting weird?”

Echo shifted in his spot whereas Tech looked on silently. “How’d you mean?” Echo asked.

“I-I don’t know. I just feel like he’s being short with me recently? He’s being way to over protective and I feel like everything I am doing is wrong, y’know?”

Tech tilted his head slightly. “It could simply be because you were assigned to us by Commander Cody and you being injured in battle would reflect badly on us from a military point of view.” Tech offered but you were glad that Echo was also with you as he had a inkling he knew what was going on. In fact, Echo and Crosshair were more than certain they knew what was going on with Hunter but it was not in his place to say.

“That’s a possibility,” Echo started, crossing his arms over his chest, “or it could just be because he cares and doesn’t really know how to express it without coming across as... that.”

You listened to his words and looked to the cockpit where he was now copiloting the ship. You obviously wanted to talk to him about it but you knew for now that the safest bet was to let him cool off and chat with him later.

“Thanks boys. I should go rest my leg up before we get back to base.”

————————————————— A few hours had passed and most of the boys had turned in for the night. You had managed to get some shut eye but Wreckers snoring had caused you to stir awake. You sat up and grabbed your bottle of water, taking a swig before standing to your feet and assessed the situation around you. You countered four sleeping bodies and none of which were Hunter.

Combing your fingers through your hair you walked towards the cockpit, hesitating before you decided to enter and sit down in the copilot seat beside Hunter.

The silence was deafening between the two of you as you both stared at the glittering stars ahead of you. Your mouth ran dry, the water clearly doing nothing but you were thankful that it was Hunter who spoke first.

“How’s the leg?”

“It’s fine...” you replied airily, gently swinging side to side in the chair. “How’s the attitude?”

It was a bold question to ask, especially with your seemingly off relationship with one another. You held in your breath, waiting for some moody remark back but instead he sighed. “Not good, clearly.”

You turned to him and tilted your head to the side as you arched an eyebrow at him. “Is it me? Have I done something wrong?”

His knee was nervously tapping up and down, his chin rested between his thumb and finger before sparing a glance in your direction where he felt his whole breath almost got sucked out of his lungs as you looked at him those innocent eyes.

It was the same feeling he got when he first laid eyes on you. The Batch were waiting in the hanger when Commander Cody and other clones of his regiment had greeted them. He knew they were being assigned a medic (to much of Crosshair’s displeasure)but he didn’t expect to feel an instinct attraction when he spotted you glide towards him with a wide grin plastered on your face and saluted him in greeting. Since then, six months ago, he was smitten. He thought it was some childish crush that he would soon get over as it wasn’t particularly responsible for him to get such feelings but they didn’t fade.

They got stronger and stronger to the point his senses had sent his mind into a frenzy when he could sense you in the ship. He could hear the thumping of your heart beat when you laughed, the scent of blood when you got it on your hands whenever you had bandaged up Wrecker. These things never used to happen as bad until you came along. Kriff, his mind went into overload to the point he thought he would short circuit when he could smell you when showering in the refresher. It was pure intoxication at this point.

“No.” Hunter said simply. “It’s… well, it’s me.”

“Oh.” You answered kind of hopelessly. “Well, is there anything I can do? Have you been injured and been hiding it from me?”

“It’s nothing Y/N.” He hoped he didn’t sound as snappy as he had done previously but as he spared another glance, he was glad that you didn’t seem upset. Instead, you looked worried.

“Hunter… please tell me? I hate seeing you act this way towards me. You’ve been acting so strange with me. I can’t help but feel like you’re pushing me away. Do you… do you want me to resign and you get a new medic? Because I will if you feel like I could hinder your status to the Republic?” You rambled accidentally, something you often did when nervous.

“I care about you. A lot.” Hunter cut off your rambling, turning his pilot seat to face you more, leaning forwards and clasping his hands together. “I just can’t help but feel worry when I don’t… when I don’t see you.”

This wasn’t something you were expecting at all but nonetheless, you could feel your heartbeat speed up by his confession and she was more than certain that he could hear it as he looked up at you with those soft brown eyes. “I like you, more than I should. I never want to see you hurt, especially when I could prevent it.”

You swallowed the breath you were holding and stared across at Hunter. He liked you. “Hunter,” you smiled softly and bravely leaned forward and carefully placed a hand over his, rubbing soft circles into his skin, “I like you too. Probably more that I should too.”

His eyes widened as complete relief washed over him at your words. The feelings of your hands on top of his own ignited something inside him and he didn’t know what else to say but he certainly knew what he could do.

He pushed himself out of his chair and took a step towards you. Instantly, you found your hands on his shoulders whilst his large and calloused hands had gently placed on either side of your cheeks and your lips were on his at the same time; both of you wanting this. Your lips moulded together perfectly as your hands made their way to his long hair, gently running your fingers through it before he let out a breathless whisper into your mouth:

“You’re so intoxicating to me, mesh’la.”

—————————————————

🍓Back to masterlist 🍓

Be added to my taglist

#the bad batch #hunter x reader #hunter x you #hunter the bad batch #tech bad batch #crosshair bad batch #echo bad batch #wrecker bad batch #clone wars #star wars #tbb #bad batch one shots #hunter one shots

402 notes · View notes

bluejaem · 4 years ago

Text

7 THINGS — J.JH

❝ The seven things I like about you. Your hair, your eyes, your old Levi's. When we kiss, I'm hypnotized. You made me laugh, you made me cry, but I guess that's both I'll have to buy. Your hand in mine when we're intertwined, everything's alright. I wanna be with the one I know. And the seventh thing I like the most that you do. You make me love you. ❞ — ♫ 7 things by miley cyrus

↳ PAIRING — jaehyun × gn!reader

↳ GENRE — tooth-rotting fluff lmao, slight angst in the end, post-break-up!au

↳ WORD COUNT — 2.16k ; « 8 min »

↳ WARNING/S — a kiss, mentions of food at one point, like one curse word ig

↳ PLAYLIST — paris in the rain by lauv :: fly away with me by nct 127 :: king of my heart by taylor swift

↳ A/N — perhaps I fell in love with jaehyun while writing this fjsnfjdjf. low-key plagiarised some of my own works while writing this lMaO. Anyways, I just hit my 3-month mark with this blog on this hellsite. So this is a celebratory work ig?

↳ SYNOPSIS — Sure, he broke your heart. But you still weren’t over him. No matter how much you tried, he was the only one in your heart.

And here lie the 7 things you love about jaehyun.

the first thing — your eyes looking in mine

“Ooh, do you remember this one? We took this on our first ever date. You were so cute then — not that you still aren't—” you pulled out the polaroid picture of the two of you from the album and showed it to Jaehyun, who was sitting beside you.

But he turned out to be staring at you.

His eyes were like an empty canvas, gradually being painted with love after every moment that passed. His eyes were always gentle. They looked at you with a softness you had never encountered before. The gaze that was filled with nothing but warmth and fondness. His eyes that spoke a thousand words at once. With a thousand tales to tell.

You were lost.

Lost in his eyes. For who knows how long. But all that mattered was that he was too.

“What?” you giggled when you saw him smile. “nothing, you're just really endearing,” he gushed.

This statement was soon followed by a shy smile taking over your face. He couldn't help but chuckle at this sight. How you'd always shy away whenever he complimented you. Or how you'd try to be the flirty one, but when he said something next, you'd be the flustered one.

He loved the fact that he still had the same effect on you.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

the second thing — your smile

“hi bubs, and what's your name?” you crouched down to talk to the little toddler holding onto her mother's hand. “I'm Zoey!” the girl replied.

“Hi, Zoey! I'm y/n!” you flashed her your sweetest smile and put your hand forward for a handshake. She returned your smile with the same amount of affection and shook hands with you.

“And this is uncle Jaehyun,” you take Jaehyun by his hand and make him crouch down beside you.

“Hi, Zoey! That's such a pretty name!” Jaehyun cooed with delight. “Thank you,” the girl giggled, and you did too.

The way his smile grew wider, the dimples making an effortless appearance. He adored you so much, and you had no idea about it.

“Bye!” you waved Zoey and her mom goodbye and turned to look at a smiling Jaehyun.

His eyes, his lips, and his spirit all at once smiled at you. He paints a ray of sunshine all over his face. His smile lights up your world — always. His smile was one of happiness growing, much as a spring flower opens. You could see how it came from deep inside to light his eyes and spread into every part of him. In his sweet smile is all the love you'll ever need.

And there you went, falling for him all over again.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

the third thing — your hand in mine

“Do you trust me?” he asked as he finished tying the black cloth on your eyes.

“with my life,” you replied, feeling the soft fabric of the clothing on your eyes.

“Well, then,” he smiles, taking your hand in his as he leads you to a surprise that awaits you.

The warmth of his hands penetrating through your skin. The way your hand fit perfectly in his. The feeling of his fingers intertwined with yours was one that couldn't even be described in words.

It felt like holding onto your world at your fingertips and never wanting to let go of it.

“And we're here! Please don't open your eyes until I tell you to do so,” he untied the cloth and ran to the other side.

“Can I open my eyes now?” you snickered because you kind of knew where this was going.

“Yes!” that was the last thing you heard before opening your eyes to a smiling Jaehyun holding a huge card that read, "”ill you be mine again?”

You slowly made your way to him, a candle-lit pathway made just for you. “happy 1st anniversary, love” he gave you a peck on the cheek as he kept the card down.

“you didn't have to do all this?!” you let out a shocked chuckle as you looked at the rest of the decoration. “Now you're making me feel bad that all I did was gift you a bottle of perfume!”

He smiled at your comment and took out something from his pocket. He went behind you, and you felt a cold chain making contact with your skin. He locked the necklace from the back and made you turn to face him.

“Don't feel bad — your presence itself is a gift from heaven above.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

the fourth thing — your ears when you're shy

You woke up to the sound of the sizzling of eggs on the pan. You broke into a big yawn as you sluggishly made your way towards the kitchen.

“Good morning to you too,” he chuckled when he looked at you barely able to open your eyes.

You instantly found yourself smiling when you heard his voice. You walked up to him and hugged him from behind, resting your chin on his shoulders as he continued cooking.

“we're eating eggs again?” you groaned out of boredom. “What did you want to eat?” He snickered.

You wore a sly grin as an idea hits you at the right moment, "I want you.” you whispered in his ear. His eyes slowly grew wide, processing whatever the fuck that you just said.

He turned around — only to see you, a laughing mess. And as soon as you saw that smirk on his face, you knew it was time to run.

“aww, your ears are turning red. What happened, loverboy? Were you flustered because of what I said?” You teased him as you both were waiting for the other one to leave their side of the couch and run.

It was one in a million moments when jaehyun was the flustered one, and you were the one who provoked him to be. And so, these moments really had to be the most memorable ones.

“Jae, no–” you sprinted to your room as he followed you. “Let's not–”

Your legs hit the end of the bed, and the next thing you knew was that you had fallen on the bed and jaehyun got on the bed with you, tickling the life out of you.

“Wait, do you smell that?” you said as you sniffed dramatically. Jaehyun stopped tickling you for a moment, and the look on his face when the realization hit him was honestly the funniest thing you had ever seen. You let out the weirdest chuckle when your heard him shouting in horror,

“my eggs!”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

the fifth thing — your lips when we kiss

"”want a sip?” he offered you his coffee while you were sipping on yours. “How'd you know I wanted to try it?” You let out a soft chuckle while you take his coffee to try.

“I mean, even when you're sipping on yours, your eyes were on my drink. What else should I decipher it as?” he continued walking along with you, smiling when he saw your reaction to consuming his cup of coffee.

You let out a dissatisfied cough after drinking a little bit of his coffee. You hand him his coffee back. “How do you drink that stuff, dude?” you gulped hard, trying your best to get rid of the bitterness by taking long sips of your drink.

“Not like yours is that great,” he said in his cockiest tone in an attempt to provoke you.

You stopped on your tracks, disbelief was written all over your face, “Excuse you, for this is my best buddy!” you scoffed. Well, almost choked, but we won't talk about that right now.

“Then let me try yours—”

“Nope, sorry. And now you've lost the both of us.” Sure, you were fighting like an elementary school kid at that point. But in your defense— yeah, no. You were just being petty, and Jaehyun was just playing along.

You walk ahead of him while he stood there, trying to think of how to get back at you. An idea perks him as he looks at your figure slowly getting smaller the further you walked. He quietly jogged his way towards you, wearing a smug smile on his face.

Oh, dear y/n. You signed up for something you didn't know was about to come.

When he finally caught up to you, he tapped on your shoulder. As a reflex, making you turn around to look at who it was. But instead, you were met with a pair of lips on yours. Not just anybody, but the only guy ever, Jung Jaehyun.

Resistance — was something you were always pretty bad at. And especially when it came to Jaehyun.

No matter how hard you'd try, you always end up giving in. And as a matter of fact, that's what happened then too. He smiled in between the kiss, knowing very well that you had once again given in to him. Your other hand runs through his hair while he pulls you closer to himself, closing any distance between the two of you.

God, you missed kissing him.

He finally broke from the kiss, and started walking, leaving you totally confused. He wore a smile of triumph as he said, "I never liked Mocha anyway," not once did he look back at you before saying that.

For a hot minute, you were pretty confused as to what he meant by that. And that's when you understood that he was talking about the coffee.

You stood there, totally baffled — screaming on top of your lungs while he still kept walking,

“Get back here, Jung gorgeous-ass-man-who-just-tricked-me-like-that Jaehyun!”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

the sixth thing — your voice when you call out my name

“you coming?” you shouted as you got out of the water, walking your way up to where jaehyun was standing. He seemed to have been writing something on the wetter side of the sand.

“And, done!” He presented you with the small surprise he had prepared for you. You smiled when you saw what it was. He took you by your hand, giving it a kiss before making you stand beside him.

“Jaehyun + y/n forever” he read it out loud while pointing at the sand.

The way your name rolled off his tongue so easily, yet giving it its own unique color. It felt foreign but at the same time, it was so familiar and resounded through your whole self. No matter how many times he calls out your name, something about it still gives you a sense of serenity and you could never get tired of it.

“you plus me forever indeed,” you softly said, burying your head in the crook of his neck as you hugged him.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

the seventh I like the most that you do — you make me love you

“This is the last one for today, I promise,” Jaehyun said as you both climbed up the stairs of an unknown building. You both entered what looked like an empty terrace with a bench in one of the corners.

He sat on the bench and signaled you to sit beside him. “We're ready!” he shouted.

You were kind of confused by whatever that was going on at that moment. “For what?” you looked at him. Anticipation getting the best of you when you saw the proud look on his face.

“For that,” he put both his hands forward, pointing at the other side of the terrace, basically the wall.

And that's when the led lights lit up, and you could see some words coming the other way like a long led banner.

He read, “There are days when I feel down, and there are days when I feel joy, but the best part of it is going through it all with — you. I know what I'm going to say next is kind of cheesy, but”

This time he turned to you, reaching out for your hand “— will you be my once upon a time?”

It was like the flower of love bloomed once again. There’s something about him that you find so intriguing. Something to his aura that never fails to bring in pleasant surprises. It was like this weird force of attraction that never failed to make you fall for him all over again — if that was even possible.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

But as history has seen it before, every story has an ending. And the one of yours and jaehyun's was of no exception.

Tysm for reading! Feedback is very much appreciated <33

276 notes · View notes

its5amgotosleep · 3 years ago

Text

Hickeys and shattered hearts / Maria Hill x Stark!reader / Natasha x Stark!reader

A/N:This one's kinda sad but also kinda cute idk

Warning: Light angst, cursing ofc.

дорогой - Sweetheart

---------------------🕸🕷----------------------

You were new to the Avenfers despite being Tony Starks sister. They didn't know he had a sister because he never told them per your request. And only introduced yourself during the battle of New York showing up in an iron suit.

Although you had already worked for Shield even before Tony did as an agent. You helped him build some of his suits, even made your own

Tony and you were slightly different from each other with you being more on the nicer and sweeter side but still had his wit and sass.

You got along with the rest of them team really well, especially with a certain red headed assassin. Natasha had gotten to like you a lot after a few years of being colleagues, though was a complete wreck at asking you out.

Now you and the Avengers are in Sokovia battling with Ultron and his iron legion alongside new additions. Pietro and Wanda Maximoff.

"So when do you think help is on the way." You blasted through the robots that were lined up. "Any minute now cavalry."

"I didn't say we should leave.." You hear Natasha as you land to the ground. "There's worse ways to go." She finishes, you open your mask to breath a little better. "This isn't exactly how I planned mine to be." You said taking a few deep breaths.

"Where else am I gonna get a view like this." She motioned about the floating country. "Only once in a lifetime." You try to see through the smoke.

"I hope you like the view Romanoff. It's about to get better." Fury says through the coms as the helicarrier emerges up from the clouds and smoke. "Nice right? Pulled her out of mothballs with a couple of old friends. She's dusty but she'll do."

"Fury you son of a bitch." You and Steve say as you looked in awe at the flying ship. "Oh, you two kiss your mother with that mouth?"

"I wouldn't really call her my mother, but yes I do kiss her with my mouth." You grinned as mask closed again ready for the second wave. Nat didn't know you were in a relatiowith someone only till a few weeks ago.

You were searching up on new technology to improve you and you brothers suits. Recently discovering about Nanotechnology, after days of research you've only managed to create a protoype for only the helmet.

You heard the door knock and said out a come in. "Hey, Y/N have you seen Bruce?" Natasha came in as you still had on the mask thst only reached the bottom of your neck.

"No sorry, haven't seen him since like an hour ago. Maybe he's in his room I guess." You shrugged as the mask slowly disappeared like it was dissolving from your face.

"Whoah how'd you do that you fuckin wizard or something." Nat looked at you surprised. "Cool right?" You grinned at her as you put the tech on a mannequin.

"I'll go find him, sorry to bother you." She smiled a little. "Yeah no problem." You focused on the computer. She was nearly out of the room when she noticed a bruise on the side of your neck.

Once you turned around a little it showed more purple and red spots on your neck. "Y/N.." She trailed as you looked up at her. "Yeah?"

"What happened to." She motioned to her neck and you looked at her in confusion. "Huh? Why? Is there something wrong?" You asked still confused.

"Look at the mirror." Her tone laced with a hint of jealously. "I don't what's- Oh!" You cut off your own sentence when you saw you reflection in the mirror. Red and purple marks scattered on your neck.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry you had to see that!" Shrieking you activated the mask again hide them and your embarrassed face.

You hit your head on palm of your habd a few times chanting to yourself that you were stupid to not notice. "Look, it's ok, I've seen worse. Do you want me to help you with it?" Nat brushed of the feeling in the pit of her stomach.

"No no, I don't want to take away more time from you. I can just cover this up with some make up." The front of the mask opened as you had a sorry smile for her. But Natasha wanted to stay longer, she wanted to stay with you.

"Ok just, just call me if you need anything." She said as you let out a final apology and a thank you. "F.R.I.D.A.Y, please call Agent Hill immediately please." You command the A.I thingking that the ex russian spy was gone.

"What is it Stark? Somethibg happened?" Maria said from the other line. Natasha hid behind a wall to eavesdrop, yes it was wrong, but she just wanted an answer to her question.

"Don't Stark me Hill, you know what exactly happened." You spat before sending a photo to her. "I can't believe you didn't tell me before I left!" You sighed running a hand through your hair.

"I don't get what- Oh, Oh!" Maria stopped midway when she saw the photo you sent. "Well you didn't exactly say anything when we were-" "Don't you dare finish that sentence Hill or I will slap you across the face." You threatened through gritted teeth.

Natasha left not needing and not wanting to hear your conversation. She only asked for Bruce to have an excuse to see you.

Now she's left to go to the gym to blow off some steam and to avoid her heart from shattering entirely.

"I think I know who you're talking about. You two together the whole night at the party right?" Clint said as he smirked at you as you flew past him.

"You're seeing someone and you didn't tell me? I feel betrayed- I am betrayed." Tony sounded genuinely upset over the fact that Clint new and not him.

"We agreed not to tell anyone, and that anyone including you brother." You said matter of factly.

You saw Clint rushing behind a rock with a little boy trying to get to cover from the iron legion who were about to rain bullets on them.

Also noticing a blue and silver trail speeding towards them, you land right infront of Pietro and Clint shielding the three from the bullets, after they were done it was your turn to start beaming at them.

"What you didn't see that coming?" Opening the front of your mask to smirk at Pietro who looked at you like you were crazy.

"After this Fury, I'm gonna take a break. I've seen enough robots for the year. Person I am seeing you owe me a date." You say taking down a few more robots.

"I am going to pretend I didn't see her nod her head and smile. Stark you two have sone explaining to do before any dates will happen." Fury eyed Maria giving the 'Really? You two?' look.

The three of you got on to one of the ships to the helicarrier. "I'm sorry for what's about to happen." You apologetically glance at Pietro about Sokovia.

"Not exactly the way I wanted my chapter to end, but I guess it's something. This is where my family was made, this was also where it was destroyed, and where my twin and I made into well.. Whatever we are." His thick accent following through every word..

After the battle with Ultron, the civilians were given the help that they needed. "Having fun staring at the wall? It's an interesting wall don't get me wrong." You smiled as you walked towards Natasha.

"What'd you call me for? You need help finding Bruce again?" You asl as she shook her head turning to fully look at you.

"Not really, I just wanted to tell you something." Nat looked nervous which surprised you for the very first time. "It's about you."

"Me?" You pointed to yourself. "I- jesus christ this is harder than I thought." Nat let out a heavy sigh as you put a hand on her shoulder. "Hey its ok, take your time." You reassured her.

"I like you." She knew that you knew what it meant and was expecting to take your hand of her shoulder but you didn't. "I'm sorry Nat I really am, you're an amazing person."

"I know you can't, that's why I'm telling you this to let it out of my chest." Sadness was evident in her tone but she had to accept the fact the you can't love her back.

"I'll go beat up Hill if she hurts you." Nat joked as you pushed her shouler lightly. "We still friends?" You mumble as you pulled her to a hug.

She reciprocated by wrapping her arms around you. "Always." She said against your shoulder. "I better not find you downing a bottle of vodka later." You threatened as she just chuckled.

"I'll try not to." She says as you pulled away from the hug to glare at her. "No promises дорогой." She playfully smirked at you.

Natasha swore to herself to be there for you until the end. Not as lovers but as friends. Always and forever

Natasha left with Steve because they were evaluating the new recuits for the Avengers, she asked you if you wanted to come with her but you declined saying you were gonna meet with someone.

"Hey.." Maria said as she leaned against a wall seeing you walk down the halls. "Hi, were you waiting for me?" You ask as you walked closer to the Agent.

"No I wasn't." She simply replied as she looked at you and smiled "Really? Cause you looked like you were waiting for me." You raised a brow at her staring at hers, cold blue eyes thst somehow radiated warmth whenever she looked at you.

"Maybe I was maybe I wasn't." She smirked at you causing you to roll your eyes by her answer. "What were you doing before going here?" She asked as you two walked together.

"Oh I jusst rejected someone." You sighed rethingking what happened earlier. "Was it Natasha?" Maria says non chalanty.

You looked at her with a 'how the fuck.' face. "How the fuck did you know?" Your eyes wide as they can be. "I've known for a while know. At first I was worried about it."

"Oh yeah? Why so?" "Because I love you and you love me, simple as that." She gave a quick peck before walking ahead of your blushing face.

"Atleast kiss me properly Agent." You caught up to her and pulled her down for a proper kiss, instinctively placing her hand on your waist.

You pulled away as Maria was about to deepen in. "Although I'd love to but I only said for a proper kiss." Now it was your turn to give her quick peck before walking ahead of her.

"This so very cringey but also so cute at the same time." Coulson solighed as he saw the whole thing happen.

-----------------------🦅🕴️--------------------

#black widow x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romonova #natasha x reader #natasha x you

56 notes · View notes

ickle-ronniekins · 4 years ago

Text

the one i was meant to find

request: from nonnie! “soulmate au with George??? maybe tattoos or something with the red thread of fate?”

pairing: george x fem!reader

word count: 4.8k

warning(s): angst, mentions of impending war, torture, sadness, anxiety

desc: your seventh year takes a wild turn when umbridge announces the arranged establishing of relationships to keep things in order. keep things in order? sounds ridiculous, doesn’t it? people shouldn’t be paired off, you should find one another through fate! so when umbitchbridge ultimately decides to pair students off by blood status, it seems as though fate (or the ministry) is pulling you and your boyfriend miles and miles apart.

tag list: @mintlibri @georgeweasleyx @seppys-return-to-madness @fopdoodledane @fredd-weasley @iprobablyshipit91 @darling-details @laneygthememequeen @lupinsx @keoghans @helloallthethingsilove @dreamer821 @feffffffy @the-hufflepuff-of-221b @62442-am @wtfweasleyy @obsessedwithrandomthings @thoseofgreatambition @harrysweasleys @sleep-i-ness @shadowsinger11 @shadychaoticcollection @haphazardhufflepuff @afriendlyneighborhoodhufflepuff @hood-and-horan @letsfightsomeorcs @theweasleysredhair @purpleskiesstorm @hxfflxpxffs @wand3ringr0s3 @finecole @angelinathebook @highly-acidic @purplefragile @90shermione @zreads @susceptible-but-siriusexual @hollands-weasley @andromedaa-tonks @bbstrawberry0421 @princessof-theuniverse @cappsikle @mytreec @imseeinggred @idont-knowrn @flyingserpxnt @auroraboringalis57 @godricsswords @jejegu @annasofiaearlobe @starlightweasley @alwaysasadaesthetic @thisismysketchbook @izzytheninja @imboredandneedalife @hemmoporro @valwritesx @heavenlymidnight | message me to be added!

Umbridge’s slimy voice rang violently throughout the Great Hall. Suddenly everything sounded very muffled in your ears, and you swallowed thickly in the hopes of unpopping them. Your breathing became heavy, just as it had that winter day at the Weasley home.

You’d been sitting outside the Burrow in the snow near the garden shed with the lot of them, before Fred, Ginny, Ron, Harry, and Hermione had all excused themselves, leaving you and George alone. You’d sworn that you’d seen Fred wink at you before vanishing inside the bustling home. You’d bit down on your lip, knowing exactly what he’d been trying to do. Damnit, Fred.

You’d stolen a glance at George, who’d looked as calm as could be. That hadn’t helped your nerves at all. Neither had the slight mistletoe that had materialized above you both, the unmistakable sound of Frederick Weasley cackling emanating from the second floor of the house.

“You know,” George began, his voice steady as a rock as he inched closer toward you. He lifted his eyes to glance above you both. “Legend has it that if you don’t song whoever you’re with whenever mistletoe appears, you’re both cursed for life.”

You’d actually snorted and immediately caved in on yourself. How embarrassing was that? Your cheeks flooded red, both from the embarrassment and from the way his laughter had warmed your entire body. You’d hadn’t even known what to say. “You’re full of it, Weasley,”

He’d placed a hand dramatically across his chest. The tips of his ears and nose were pink from the cold, and you’d sworn you were going to spontaneously combust at the sheer sight of it. “Swear to Merlin, Y/N, I read about it.”

“You? Read about it? Sure. In what -- Ten Ways To Charm Your Crush?” you’d internally scolded yourself for saying something so bloody stupid, but George had clearly thought it was cute because his grin deepened alongside the dramatic drumbeat of your heart. You’d decided to dive in head first. “I reckon you just want to kiss me.”

His features had twisted into a childish smirk and the wind ruffled his bit of bright red hair sticking out from his hat. A few snowflakes had fallen onto his eyelashes and melted when he’d blinked. “Absolutely, I do.”

He’d caught your lips with his in a moment of clarity. It was new and invigorating and familiar all at once. You may had been informed of your magical abilities at the age of eleven, much to the surprise of your Muggle parents, but in all the years you’d been attending Hogwarts, you’d never felt magic quite like this. The feeling of his eyelashes brushing against your cheekbones and his tongue gliding gently over your bottom lip had sent you gasping for air --

A hand on the small of your back pulled you from your memory. You turned to your side and looked at George for some reassurance, except all he was able to give you were worried eyes and a clenched jaw. You noticed the way his eyes glistened, but not the way they had underneath the snow and the stars and the mistletoe. They were glistening with tears.

“You can’t pair people off like this!” Yells were ringing throughout the Great Hall, along with complaints and quite a few expletives. You squeezed George’s hand. All you wanted him to do was tell you everything would be okay. “George, she can’t --”

Umbridge kept on talking, annoyingly enough, and you were surprised at how loudly her words echoed in your ears. “The Ministry has concluded, boys and girls, that students will be paired off by blood status. Pure-bloods are to marry pure-bloods, half-bloods with half-bloods, Muggle-borns with Muggle-borns. No intermingling will be tolerated. There will be daily checks to make sure you are abiding by the rules. Be warned, children, there will be disciplinary actions for those refusing to obey. No exceptions.”

You felt as though your throat was closing up. George’s face was blurry through your vision, but you could still see the worried look glazing over his eyes. How the hell did she expect to pull this off -- daily checks? This woman was absolutely mad. Somehow though, you knew she’d stop at nothing to make sure her rules were being followed. The thought terrified you to your core. To George, you said shakily, “But -- I love you.”

You’d known it since the day you met him, and even before that. You knew that he was the one you’d been waiting for. The overwhelming feeling of warmth you’d felt when he’d introduced himself with a lopsided grin all those long years ago in the middle of a Herbology lesson was like nothing you’d felt before. You had first met his gaze across the classroom, and he’d held it a little longer than he normally would have. You’d been in love ever since. And so had he.

It isn’t fair, you wanted to yell out. What authority did Umbridge have to decide who you’re meant to be with? Weren’t soulmates to be determined by fate, and not by the corrupt Wizarding government? You had a thought of hexing her right now, but her pompous laugh made you feel as though you turned to stone. By the look on McGonagall’s face from the other end of the hall, you were quite certain she felt like hexing Umbridge, too.

Who the bloody hell was she to think that she had a say, any say, over who you were allowed to marry?

George’s lip wobbled a bit as he breathed in deeply. “I love you, too.” His voice was hoarse and different and worrisome. “It’ll all be okay, darling, I promise.”

Somehow you knew that George didn’t fully believe his own words.

What were you supposed to do, coming from a Muggle family, when the whole lot of Weasleys were pure-bloods? What were you supposed to say to this vile woman to make her reconsider her choices? When your eyes met hers in a fit of fury, you squeezed George’s hand tighter, all while Umbridge threaded her brows together and stood up a little straighter.

What were you supposed to do if your soulmate wasn’t allowed to be your soulmate at all?

-- -

As you stealthily flicked your wrist, a dull light emanated from your wand, causing Professor Snape’s hair to stand up on command and turn a rather ugly shade of yellow.

You squealed; how you’d managed to pull it off was beyond you. Behind you, your boyfriend squeezed your shoulders and grabbed your hand before pulling you out of the Great Hall and around the bend. He was finding it very difficult to suppress his laughter, as evident by the red colour rising in his cheeks and the slight tears in his eyes. “You’re brilliant, you know that?”

You flipped your hair and grinned at him. “I know,” you said cheekily, earning yourself a playful jab to the ribs. You locked your arms around his neck. “I learned from the best.”

You adored the dimple that appeared on his cheek each and every time he smiled. You pushed his long hair out of his eyes. “The best, eh?”

“The best of the best,”

He pressed a kiss to your forehead and lifted you into the air, your feet dangling just above the corridor floor. He spun you a bit until you claimed you were getting dizzy. “My girl is going to out prank me one day.. how’d I get so lucky? I reckon I’m the luckiest bloke there is.”

You giggled and played absentmindedly with the hairs at the nape of his neck. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah,” George breathed, placing you back down and bringing a hand to the back of your neck. The cheekiness in his features almost immediately twisted into that of compassion, of admiration, of --

“I love you.”

If you hadn’t been so absolutely floored (even though you’d kind of been expecting it), you would’ve noticed how very quickly those three words had brought tears to your eyes. Except, you were too excited to notice such things. Nothing at all could’ve prepared you for those three words. You reckoned your smile was stretching from ear to ear now.

The three words you’d been waiting to hear for so long were playing in your head on repeat. You couldn’t wait another second before saying them very quickly back through a very excited squeal. “Iloveyoutoo!” He laughed and kissed you softly, his mouth moving very carefully against yours. You whispered against his lips in a calmer, more serious tone, “I love you, too.”

-- -

Your seventh and final year at Hogwarts was not going according to plan. Not only had Umbridge mechanically established relationships via blood status, but she also split all of the students up by blood status as well. So there were no longer Hogwarts houses. Each student were given new, generic Hogwarts robes and new common rooms. You shifted uncomfortably in a particularly painful armchair in what used to be the Slytherin common room. How convenient, you thought, that Umbridge had deemed the dungeons an appropriate spot for the new “Muggle-born Residencies”.

And George.

He was struggling to get used to the strange entrance of the previous Ravenclaw common room, now deemed the “Pure-blood Dormitories”. Umbridge had completely banned the selling of any and all Weasley products, even confiscating their trunks and blasting their items to smithereens. Everything George and Fred worked on for so long was just...gone, and you couldn’t even be there to comfort them.

The most interaction you were able to have with George were stolen glances across the Great Hall and in lessons. McGonagall didn’t have much say over the pairing off, but she did have a say in how lessons ran. She shut down Umbridge’s ludicrous “lesson by blood status” idea almost immediately.

George had sworn to you that it would be easy to sneak around, that he could jinx Umbridge or remove her memory or outsmart her any day. But bloody hell, it was proving to be difficult. This woman had certainly done her research. The Ministry had you all on a strict lockdown control.

Fleeting moments with George came less often than both of you would have liked. One recurring time Umbridge couldn’t stop you (because she wouldn’t dare step out onto the Quidditch pitch) were matches. The schedule had already been established, McGonagall had fought. It was the only time the “four houses” were able to reconvene during the school year. You waited patiently, nervously, restlessly outside of the Gryffindor changing rooms and yanked George rather violently behind the tent before pulling him onto a bone crushing embrace.

An exasperated breath left your lips. “I don’t know how much more of this I can handle.” you told him. It had only been a month -- surely it had been longer? Like five bloody years maybe?

“Me neither, love.” The feeling of his arms wrapped around your waist was exhilarating in a way that nothing else was. When he pulled away to look at you, he kept his hands gripped tightly on your hips, as if he were afraid you were going to slip through his fingers. Which, you thought, was pretty accurate. These fleeting moments were exactly that. Fleeting.

You expected to see the usual cheekiness glistening in his eyes, but he looked -- empty. Like the life had been sucked right out of him. Like he didn’t care about anything anymore. Like he hadn’t caught sleep in days.

You tugged hesitantly on his robes. “I -- I got paired off last week.”

You didn’t say this to hurt him; you said this to be truthful. You saw his jaw clench as he prepared himself for answers. “Who is it? I know him?”

You waved George off. “He’s just some guy.”

And then, amazingly, incredibly, George actually snorted. For a brief moment, you saw traces of happiness nearly lift him off of his feet. “Some guy?”

“Well I don’t bloody know!” you laughed too. It felt like discovering a completely new emotion, since despair seemed to be the only thing you were feeling these days. “We -- haven’t really spoken much. Just the bare minimum. He’s got a girl in Ravenclaw. Half-blood. So he’s dreading this just as much as us.”

George breathed a sigh of relief. “Same with mine.”

So he’d gotten paired off too. You felt a huge bout of nervousness tense your muscles, and you nodded. The question you were wanting to ask must’ve appeared blatantly in your eyes, because George took your hands in his and squeezed them. “You know that Hufflepuff? Lead singer in the frog choir?”

Your heart dropped about a thousand stories. Of course you knew her. She was stunning. And dating that Slytherin bloke, the one who was exceptionally good at Charms. It didn’t stop the nerves from bubbling up inside of you though. You bit your lip and stammered, “She -- she’s beautiful.”

George brought your hands to his lips and kissed them gently. He hated seeing you like this, you could tell, because there was a type of yearning in his eyes you’d never seen before. He shook his head and pushed a piece of hair behind your ear. “No, you’re beautiful.”

Just then, the very obnoxious foghorn-like sound emitted from the castle, signaling the end of Quidditch and that all students must return to their respective dormitories immediately. Gravity was pulling you both apart, but you both defied it, testing fate, holding onto one another just a moment longer.

George kissed you with an intensity you’d never known -- you didn’t exactly know when the next time you’d be able to be this close to him. It proved to be the most difficult thing you’d ever had to do to pull away. “Be careful, be safe -- I love you.”

“I love you too, George.”

You watched as he ran forward to meet Fred, who shot you a sympathetic gaze. You mechanically entered the group of Muggle-borns who were heading back to the dorms. Before vanishing toward the opposite end of the castle, George threw you one last inconspicuous glance and brought a hand gently to his heart.

-- -

“George, it’s not up to me, it’s not up to you,”

Grimmauld Place looked disturbingly non-Christmas like, despite Molly’s best efforts at decorating in her spare time between visits to the hospital to see Arthur. You’d managed, in a strange, winding way, to end up here. It proved to be very difficult though. Umbridge was now monitoring all floo-networks and the skies for flying, and it was becoming increasingly hard to apparate when your heart just wasn’t in it. But you’d made it -- somehow. You worshiped these few days here, unbeknownst to her.

You shifted uncomfortably underneath the blanket, unable to find a position on the couch that made you feel okay. Comfortable. Safe.

You glanced down at your scarred hand and ran your fingers along the words that were reflected on George’s as well.

I must not disobey the law.

The law. That’s what Umbridge thought this was. So when she caught George attempting to sneak down to the dungeons one night to see you, if only for a moment, she threw the both of you in separate four-hour long detentions, these six words now permanently engraved into your skin.

“I don’t care,” George breathed. “I don’t care about Umbridge, or these stupid rules, or the shop, or the fact that I’ve got this ridiculous phrase on my skin. I don’t care about any of it, I care about you.”

You bit your lip as the tears began to flow. You knew he didn’t mean that. Of course he cared. “I care about you too, but what are we supposed to do?”

“Let’s fight this!”

“We’ve tried! We’ve tried, George! Umbridge is so set in her ways, not even Dumbledore can shut this down! D’you think this is easy for me?” you cried. “D’you think it’s easy knowing that there’s a beautiful woman you’ve been paired with, or that there’s a man who I’m expected to spend my life with when all I’ve been doing for the better half of the last two and a half years is planning my life with you? It’s not bloody easy, George, it’s not, tell me how this is fair, tell me!” You weren’t sure when you’d started pounding on his chest, but your rattled cries echoed throughout the empty living room space. George pulled you into his chest, gripping the back of your neck tightly in his hands as he continually pressed kisses into your hair. Your sobs turned hoarse and raspy; you were crying fully now, desperate moans evaporating into the tense air above you.

You hated hearing him cry, so when he opened his mouth to speak and his words were jumbled and emotional, you squeezed your eyes shut tight, hoping that you’d open them to something other than this nightmare. “I don’t -- I don’t want to give up on us, love.”

“And you think I do?”

“No, no, of course not!” he cried, letting his emotions get the better of him. He sucked in a breath as you dabbed gently at your tears, even though fresh ones fell just as quickly as the old ones vanished. How could this be the plan for you two? How could this be your fate, when you were so in love with one another? He shook his head. “No, I’m not done. I’m not done fighting for this. Bloody hell, I don’t even care if I’ve got to use the cruciatus curse on her. I’ll give up the shop, I’ll do anything. I don’t care about anyone else --”

“George, please, you can’t give up the shop, I won’t let you --”

“Come hell or high water, I’m fighting for you,” in a moment of fury, he grabbed and cradled your head in his hands before pressing a forceful kiss to your lips. It didn’t stop you from crying. When you both parted, you peered up at him and noticed tears near the edges of his eyes. “I’m not giving up on us. I love you.”

You gently brought a hand to his cheek and caressed his skin. You choked out, “I love you, too.”

Sometime later on, after you’d both drifted off, you woke to the sound of slight shuffling around the room. Wrapped around you in a tight embrace, George was fast asleep, his breathing now steady and slow. You noticed Molly walk over to you both and cover you with an extra blanket, her wedding ring dazzling brightly in the moonlight flooding the room.

She must’ve noticed your puffy eyes and blotchy cheeks, because she reached out and ran a gentle hand through your hair. Tears had risen in your eyes immediately at her touch, as well as surprise. You’d expected a scolding for falling asleep together, but instead she just whispered, “Fate will win in the end.”

You squeezed your eyes shut and let the tears fall, but managed to nod at her and squeeze her hand. She gently caressed your cheek and placed a kiss to your head and to George’s before crossing the room and quietly closing the door.

George stirred a bit when you interlaced your fingers with his. You pressed your lips softly to the top of his hand before letting more tears fall and adjusting within his embrace, the one you came to know so well, and found yourself craving more than oxygen itself.

-- -

“They love you. I promise. They always have, haven’t they?” The fire reflecting in his eyes resembled how the fire in your bones felt. Wild. With reckless abandon.

“But this is different!” you squealed, pushing gently away from him so he couldn’t tickle you. “Before I was just good mates with all of you. Now I’m -- your girlfriend.”

George threaded his brows together in confusion. “Wait, you are? Since when?”

He earned himself a playful jab to the ribs for that one. Outside the Burrow, the snow was falling soundlessly. It had been three days since George had kissed you under the mistletoe, two days since you made it official, one day since he re-introduced you to his family as his girlfriend. It was the perfect Christmas.

“I’m just.. worried, is all. They’re getting to know me in a different way, you know?”

“Don’t worry, love,” he reassured you, placing a gentle kiss to your hairline. “Fred’s mad for you, always has been -- waiting ages for us to get together, hasn’t he? Ginny and Ron adore you.. I can’t wait for you to meet Bill and Charlie finally. Er -- can’t make any promises about Percy, though. No matter -- he’s a foul little git, anyway.”

You sniggered a bit and felt your breath catch in your throat when George began to trace small circles on your knee. You swallowed. “And your mum and dad?”

His smile only deepened. “Well they love you, don’t they? Mum’s always called you part of the family already. And my dad, well -- you know about my dad.”

You’d never felt the Muggle part of you was that exciting, but somehow Arthur Weasley’s enthusiasm for it made you feel like it was such a precious part of you, that you were all the better for it.

George continued, “Now that you’ll be spending more time here, I reckon he’ll keep you occupied in conversation for hours. Making you tell him everything about Muggles. Apologies in advance.” George laughed softly for a moment and waved his wand to bring you both cups of tea to settle in for the evening. “Besides, he’ll go absolutely mad when he meets your parents. He’s always hoped one of us would have Muggle in-laws.”

You raised an eyebrow in surprise and teased him. “In-laws? Already have us married, do you?”

When you giggled playfully, George didn’t, but instead squeezed your hand a few times and let his sincerity speak for itself through his facial features. His soft eyes, yearning and hungry and wildly in love. His mouth in a lazy grin. His chest rising and falling slowly, as if being able to look at you had finally regulated his breathing. Like you were the oxygen that was finally refilling his lungs.

You stammered, breathless. “Y-you do think about that, don’t you?”

He shrugged, as if to play off the whole thing. “Haven’t scared you off, have I?”

You brought a hand to the back of his neck and laced your fingers through his bright red hair. You smiled. “Of course not.”

“Good,” he replied cheerily, as if the idea of you two getting married was obvious. “Because I’ve known it for years, you and I. Fred reckons I may have willed this into existence,” He chuckled to himself more so than to you. You didn’t think your heart could pound any faster than it had the other day when he’d kissed you for the first time. You were wildly wrong. He pressed his lips to the back of your hand. “You were the one I was meant to find.”

-- -

December 1997

The cobblestone on Diagon Alley was slick with fresh rain. The lights on either side of the street flickered ominously. But there it was, as bright and brilliant as ever, colours in the dismal gray, light in the impending darkness.

“I’m not leaving! I’m giving up the shop and I’m staying here at school, alright? I’m staying with you.”

“No, George, you can’t! You can’t give that up for me. I won’t let you. You’ve worked far too hard for this.”

“I’m not leaving you here! Not with her! She’s torturing students left and right --”

“And I will be okay,” you replied with tears in your eyes. You squeezed his hands tight and his chest was heavy with sobs. “Your plans are bigger than this, and they’re bigger than me.”

It had been almost two years since he’d left on a broomstick, firework dragons swimming through the castle and the sky as he and his brother left their final mark on the Hogwarts grounds.

Almost two years since Umbridge had been replaced by Dumbledore, and the Hogwarts you knew and loved went back to some type of normal, the entire idea of blood status pairs driven into the ground with a stake.

But it had also been almost two years since Muggle-borns were forced into hiding for fear of the impending war.

Two years since you’d seen him. Heard his voice. Felt his touch.

He was crying fully now. “This -- this can’t be it for us.”

Your lip wobbled hearing those heart wrenching words. He’d always been the stronger of you two, comforting you when you cried -- this felt strangely unfamiliar. You didn’t quite fancy being the strong one, but he needed you. “It’s not. It’s not, okay? This is not the end. I promise. But you deserve this, George. You deserve the world. And one day, when this is all over, if I’m still lucky enough -- I’ll find you again. Come hell or high water. You need to follow your dream, okay?”

It wasn’t a breakup, but it sure felt like one.

He pressed his forehead to yours and an involuntary, hoarse cry escaped his lips. “But you’re my dream.”

“George, please --” you stopped yourself. You didn’t finish the words that were rising to your lips. Please don’t make this harder than it needs to be. You cupped his chin in your hands and peered up at him, your vision blurry. But you could still see his lips were set in a thin, firm line, his jaw was clenched tightly. He was going to leave.

You looked down at the red thread tied loosely around your pinky finger. You followed it with your eyes as it wrapped around street lamps, signs and other shops, before ending up exactly where you’d always known it would when it had first appeared on your finger after you’d graduated school.

93 Diagon Alley.

“My heart will always belong to you, love.”

As you hurried down the street, following your little thread, and the shop came into better view, you could feel the sheer intensity of the anticipation bubbling up inside you.

You pointed your wand ahead, illuminating the dark street and readying yourself for any dementors or Death Eaters that were lurking close by.

But before you reached the doors, someone ran into the middle of the street and stopped short. You lifted your wand higher, ready to hex, until you realized who it was.

George was standing in the middle of the cobblestone, hair in disarray, in his sweater his mum had knitted him every single year. He’d always told you how comforting it felt to wear. You couldn’t help the slight laugh that escaped you, for the first time you’d seen him in two years he so very similarly resembled that young, cheeky boy you’d teased your first Christmas at Hogwarts for the socks he’d knitted on his own to match the gift from his mother.

He said your name in a whisper, but in your ears it sounded like a booming shout -- like all the world could hear it, if they were listening.

And you noticed your little thread, stretching along the street, ending in a tiny knot on his own hand.

You wanted to tell him that you were here to find him, and that you’d been able to escape the hiding you were under, due to being a Muggle-born. You wanted to tell him that you hadn’t once stopped thinking about him since you’d last seen him all those years ago and that when you’d finally seen that thread, you were convinced it led here -- you’d just never been able to act on it. You wanted to tell him that you prayed for him every single night.

But all that escaped your mouth was another nervous laugh before you were running and slipping along the street before winding up in a bone crushing embrace you were bound to feel the effects of tomorrow.

He wanted to tell you that he’d never met anyone as selfless as you, how equally excited and heartbroken he was when you’d told him to leave and charge forward. He wanted to tell you that he’d been spending every single day waiting for news, any news at all that Muggle-borns were no longer in hiding. He wanted to tell you that he’d had enough, and he was coming to find you just as he stumbled before you on this little street. He wanted to tell you that he’d never once stopped loving you.

But instead all he could do was kiss you fiercely and brush the tears away that were escaping your eyes, because that kiss was telling you both everything you needed to know -- all of those unspoken words, all of those bottled up feelings, all of the unwavering love you’d carried in your hearts for one another throughout all of the moments that kept you apart.

And then he was kneeling before you, raindrops dripping down from his hair and onto his face and neck, and he was saying the things you’d always dreamt of him saying, and he was opening a box with a ring inside that took your breath away, just as his first kiss had.

A familiar ring.

Molly’s ring.

Your breath hitched at the sight of it, and her words from that Christmas echoed in your mind.

Fate will win in the end.

When George placed it on your finger, you both noticed through blurry vision that the thread that had been attached to you both had disappeared into thin air.

You’d found one another again, despite it all, despite the tyrants and the war and the rules that were holding both of you hostage.

Because this was the fate you were both destined for. This was the moment. Husband and wife, together or apart.

Fate had won in the end.

Just like Molly had told you.

The fire crackled pleasantly alongside the faint sound of Christmas music. You reached out and traced a finger over his jawline. His words made you feel simultaneously cozy and incredibly nervous. “The one you were meant to find, huh?”

George laughed, probably because of how corny that had sounded. But he didn’t care -- he knew it was true. He’d known it since the day he met you, that fate had brought you together. He breathed in deeply and squeezed your knee. “Yeah, darling, I’ve already planned my whole life with you.”

reblogs, feedback, comments, and shares are all appreciated! thanks for reading :)

#george weasley #fred weasley #fred and george weasley #weasley twins #weasley twins imagine #weasley twins imagines #weasley twins fanfic #weasley twins fanfiction #george weasley x reader #george weasley reader insert #george weasley x fem!reader #george weasley one shot #soulmate au #molly weasley #hp fanfic #hp fanfiction #george weasley imagine #george weasley imagines #george weasley x you

837 notes · View notes