#I did not expect this ch to make me start crying like that

[oddinary4bts]

Chasing Cars | ch 5 (jjk)

☆summary: when your brother goes to study on a semester abroad, your life collides with his best friend Jeon Jungkook, who's coincidentally your roommate. Will you survive the collision, or will you crumble into dust?

☆pairings: brother's best friend!Jungkook x younger sister!female reader

☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI, some chapters have mature content)

☆genre: forbidden love?au, college!au, slice of life!au, smut, angst (as usual a lot of it), fluff

☆warnings: mentions of throwing up/having a hangover, cursing, mentions of cheating for an exam, Sam Hwang (long, blond hair skz Hyunjin is who I had in mind for Sam), jealousy, alcohol, explicit content: mentions of jungkook fingering oc with his cum, of oc having sex with hobi

☆word count: 12.1k

☆a/n: the end of the power outage :') hope you guys love this one <3 thank you to @moonleeai for beta-ing, you're the best <3

☆series masterpost

☆add yourself to the taglist here!

☆☆☆☆☆

If I lay here If I just lay here Would you lie with me and just forget the world?

Chasing Cars, Snow Patrol

☆☆☆☆☆

Saturday, February 16th 

It takes most of Saturday before the power comes back on. You’ve been anticipating the sun slipping under the horizon, wanting it to disappear so that you can go back to what it was like yesterday night. Because, when the sun rose this morning, Jungkook disentangled himself from you, and he hasn’t touched you since then.

Maybe because he too realized the enormity of what you did yesterday. But you’ve been expecting the sunset, hoping it would bring you back to what yesterday night was…

The lights in your apartment flicker to life as you sit on the couch, under your bed cover and Jungkook’s. You’ve been reading a book – he’s still on that same book you saw him read on Thursday – and you blink a few times as if not quite believing that the power is back.

That whatever happened between you and Jungkook will now have to be put in the past.

“Finally,” Jungkook says, and he turns his head towards you, as if expecting you to agree. 

You don’t say anything, pursing your lips as your eyes dip down to your book, remaining stuck on a word that doesn’t make any sense to you.

If Jungkook senses your unease, he doesn’t let it show. Instead, he says, “Can I turn on the TV? I miss having some sound around here.”

So he’s not leaving. For some reason, you expected he would. It reassures you, and you offer him a smile.

“Sure,” you answer. “But don’t put on one of your lame anime.”

Jungkook’s mouth falls open, and he frowns in offence, fake or real. You can’t really tell, because it makes you laugh, and the moment you start laughing, the expression melts on Jungkook’s face, replaced by a softer look.

“Anime isn’t lame, I’ll have you know,” he says. “You just don’t know how to enjoy superior cinematography.”

You cock an eyebrow. “Oh, can’t I, now?”

He nods forcefully, and he grabs the remote control where it was abandoned on the coffee table. “I’ll show you an anime you’ll actually like.”

“Good luck,” you tease.

He throws you a no-bullshit look. “As if I need any luck.”

You hate that he was right. You hate that, a little under two hours later, you’re crying, trying to hide it from Jungkook. Though, when you glance towards him, you see fat tears rolling down his cheeks, and it makes you forget all about your own tears.

“Are you crying?” you ask, voice so surprised it startles even you.

“I can’t help it!” Jungkook lets out. “I love this movie.”

“Jeon Jungkook crying over some anime?” you tease, and you start laughing. “Why is that so adorable?”

Jungkook chuckles, drying his cheeks. “You think I’m adorable?”

The way he says it makes you flush red, and you quickly look away. “No. But crying over the movie Your Name is.”

“You just said that I’m adorable,” Jungkook singsongs.

You shake your head. “I did not.”

“You did.”

“You’re annoying.”

Jungkook bursts out laughing, and he gently pinches your cheek. You try to shrug him off, but when his fingers linger on your cheek, you turn to meet his gaze. 

You don’t think you were ready for the seriousness of his features. Because it feels like you hit a wall of bricks, and your own smile slowly dies down.

“What’s wrong?” you ask, and you gulp around the sudden lump in your throat.

Jungkook frowns, and his hand falls on top of the blankets between you and him. “Nothing?”

He says it like a question, and it makes you worry at your bottom lip. You wait for him to say more, but his gaze slides away to the TV screen. An awkward silence rises between the two of you, and you think this is it.

This is where the little idyllic whatever-it-was ends.

“We can’t pretend we’re just doing this for warmth anymore,” Jungkook says matter-of-factly. 

“Right,” you let out.

He nods once, and he flashes you a grin, though it’s lacking the authenticity of the smiles he’s shared with you since the start of the power outage. “So, let’s go back to normal now.”

He says it as if it’s the simplest thing in the universe, and it strikes deep. You wonder, were you the only one who felt like you did? 

Did you imagine the whole thing?

You must have. Because a moment later Jungkook is getting up from the couch, claiming he wants to check if the gym has power as well and go work out if he can. You watch him go, dumbfounded, not knowing what to say.

Not wanting to admit that him leaving like that, him pretending that he doesn’t care, hurts. But then again, he’s Jeon Jungkook – why would he care?

When he comes back to the living room with his gym bag and phone in hand, Jungkook offers you a smile. It’s tentative, fake, and you wonder if he put a mask on.

Because this is not the man you’ve spent the last two days with.

“Gym has power, so I guess I’ll see you later,” he says.

You swallow the lump in your throat, nodding once. “Okay.”

He doesn’t say anything else, instead moving to the closet to grab his coat from it. He’s put his boots on by the time he glances towards you again, and he offers you a smirk. “Don’t miss me too much, peach.”

You want to punch him for that sentence alone. It feels like it means more. It feels like he’s telling you, ‘Yes, I put my mask back on. What will you do about it?’ And you know there is nothing you can do. He’s Taehyung’s best friend, and though you’ve enjoyed the days you’ve spent with him, they weren’t real life.

And though the wake-up call is unwanted, you think you badly needed it. 

So you nod once, letting your lips grow into your own smirk, before you reply, “Don’t worry, there’s nothing to miss.”

You see it in his eyes. The temporary flash of hurt, or maybe insult. But he pushes it away, just as well as you, and just like that you know he wanted you to say something, wanted you to chase him. But you don’t chase men – the last time you did left you with a severe fear of running into a certain Sam Hwang. So you don’t do it anymore, and you think it’s more peaceful that way.

Because no matter how great hanging out with Jungkook was, you know it’s just a matter of time before Taehyung comes back and you have to return to your previous distant relationship.

Sunday, February 17th

“Bitch, you went full-on MIA,” Ria says. “You can’t tell me nothing happened.”

You’re in a study room at the library, and Ria has been bothering you ever since Jungkook showed up to his shift, nodding stiffly at the sight of you. You’d waved, and he’d smiled, but he’d then wandered off to do whatever it is that his job here implies.

Obviously, Ria noticed the exchange, and she really doesn’t want to let it go.

“Genuinely nothing did,” you say, shrugging your shoulders. “He’s Tae’s best friend.”

“But he’s Jungkook,” she counters, sighing dreamily. “The rumours about him in bed…”

You flush red, and you throw an eraser at Ria, who starts cackling like she’s crazy. “Shut the fuck up,” you tell her.

“No but,” she insists. “You’re blushing. You cannot tell me nothing happened.”

“But I am,” you answer. “Drop it. I’m only blushing because you want to talk about his sex life rumours.”

“I hardly call it a rumour when Shelly’s been so vocal about it.”

It takes you a moment to connect the dots. A moment too long, but then you remember the texts Jungkook had received. 

Shelly. The girl he ghosted on Valentine’s Day because he was with you. Because you ended up kissing him, straddling his lap on a kitchen chair, and he’d later fingered you with his cum.

You push the thought away. You push it so far away you wish you’d forget it, and then you reply, “Who’s Shelly?”

“She’s the two-doors-down dorm neighbour, remember?” Ria supplies. “The one we got shitfaced drunk with before Halloween last semester.”

You barely remember the girl. All that you can think about is her dark skin and the pretty almond eyes that had lured you to your demise. Indeed, you’d thrown up before you’d even reached the party, and to this day it’s still the worst hangover you’ve had in your whole life.

Because obviously, she provided you with plenty enough of shots at the party after that, too.

It’s strange. To realize that you know the girl Jungkook’s been fucking. Before he fucked you…

Another thought you push away. Because did he really? The distance that’s reappeared between you and him is a clear indication that you probably just dreamed up the whole thing.

“Don’t remind me of the Halloween party,” you whine, and Ria bursts out laughing.

“Not your proudest moment.”

You jokingly glare at her, and then you look down at your laptop again. “Where’s Nabi anyway?”

Ria laughs. It’s an innocent laugh, a laugh that means she’s up to no good. Your eyes immediately snap up to her face, and you lean towards her. “What?”

“Not telling you,” she says.

“No way.” When she remains silent but grins wildly, you add, “No fucking way! When?”

“Friday.”

You squeal, and even though you’re in a study room, you earn a disapproving look from the girl sitting at the table outside. You wince in apology, and then meet Ria’s gaze again.

“What did they do?”

“They went on a walk,” Ria admits. 

You wonder if they saw you and Jungkook. Though you figured you would have heard about it if they did.

“And?”

Ria shrugs. “She told me she wanted to tell you herself.”

“Bruh.”

Ria laughs at your expense. “You should have just come yesterday, she would have told you everything. But no, you were too busy doing God knows what with Jungkook, but obviously nothing happened…”

Your eraser is gone when you reach for it to chuck it at Ria’s face. “Holy fuck, let it go,” you groan, but all she does is laugh.

Because if there is one thing that can describe Ria well, it’s her easy laugh. Indeed, you think that’s why you became so close to her so quick – she’s good at changing your mind, at making you smile. And though she definitely is able to have a serious conversation if needed, she’s also easy going, and it’s a relief to have a friend like that when your other closest friend is anxious as can be.

But you love Nabi to no end as well, needless to say.

“I’ll let it go if I can also find someone to fuck,” she says, sighing dramatically. “It’s unfair that you’re both getting some when the last time I did was in December.”

“I’m not getting some,” you grumble, resting your arms on the desk in front of your laptop so that you can hide your face in them.

“Hobi?” Ria lets out.

You’d forgotten all about Hoseok. It surprises you so much that you straighten, meeting her gaze. “Oh. Right.”

She snorts at your expression, before saying, “I tried hitting on Yoongi, but that guy’s colder than ice.”

“He is,” you agree, nodding your head. “But I’m sure he’s a good guy if you make it through all the ice.”

“Not my type,” Ria says. “I don’t want to have to chase.”

“Amen!”

On that note you both burst out laughing, before focusing on your studies again. You both have midterms next week, and though the power outage was a needed respite, you need to get your mind in the game again. At least both of your exams aren’t in your hardest class, especially considering Namjoon provided you and Nabi with a… rather well-guided study guide for the biochem midterm.

Not that you’ll look at it before you’re convinced you could ace the test anyway, if you have to be honest.

And so you study with Ria, the minutes ticking on the clock. Soon enough the minutes turn into an hour, and when Ria suggests taking a break to go grab something to eat, you immediately jump on the occasion, needing a break anyway.

You’re almost out of the library when you run into Jungkook, and Ria stifles a laugh next to you when Jungkook steps to the side, letting you pass. He frowns at the sound your friend makes, and you punch her in the shoulder, which only entices her further.

You roll your eyes, before meeting Jungkook’s gaze. “Ignore her.”

He nods. “Noted.”

And though you should walk away, you can’t bring yourself to take a single step forward. All you can do is hold his gaze, remembering his lips on yours and the way that he touched you like he knew the maze of your body by heart already.

Pink tints your cheeks, and you wish you’d find something to say. Unfortunately, all you can do is watch as a pretty girl, all lean limbs and flowing hair, stops next to him. 

“Hey, JK, I need your help with something,” she says. She barely spares you a glance, and Jungkook nods your way, before turning towards her.

“What’s up?” he tells her, and then they’re walking away.

You’re out of the library when Ria hums, before snorting. “What was that?” she asks.

“What was what?” you counter back, even though you know exactly what she’s referring to.

The longing look exchanged between you and Jeon Jungkook was pretty noticeable, wasn’t it?

“With Jungkook?”

You sigh. “Honestly, nothing,” you answer, and it sounds so genuine you realize that maybe it truly was nothing. Maybe what happened meant nothing, and you need to let it go. “I guess we’re sort of friends now.”

“Sort of,” Ria repeats in a teasing tone.

“You really are a pain in the ass, aren’t you?”

She links arms with you. “And that’s why you love me.”

You begrudgingly agree, letting her lead you outside into the frigid air, towards the café on the other side of the street closest to the library building. She pulls you inside, and the warmth is a relief, as are the aromas of coffee and pastries swimming through the shop. You breathe in, and you follow her to the bar.

You think you almost drop dead when you see the barista on the other side, waiting for you two with a smile plastered on his face.

On those pretty lips you’d worshipped once, and that had turned to poison before you could realize it.

“Hi, what can I get for you?” Sam Hwang asks. 

He freezes when his gaze connects with yours. Maybe he only noticed Ria – you wouldn’t be surprised, Ria is drop-dead gorgeous – but when Sam Hwang sees you, he physically blanches. You wonder what he’ll do or say, if you should turn around and leave, but then Ria orders a latté and a sandwich, and she turns towards you.

“What do you want, I’ll pay for you?”

You still haven’t looked away from Sam. You loved him, deeply. You believe some part of you will always love him. But he hadn’t wanted you. Had taken what he could and left, claiming that he wanted to be single to have the full college experience.

You think about the girl you saw him with at the party a few weeks ago. Is she his new girlfriend, or just someone to give him the full college experience he so desperately wanted?

You gulp, looking away from him. Your eyes fall to the vitrine on the counter where pastries and sandwiches are shown. You blank for a few seconds, and then you motion to an almond croissant. 

“I’ll have this please,” you say.

Ria furrows her eyebrows, looking at you in confusion. “Anything to drink?”

“Just water.”

Her frown deepens, but she shrugs it off before turning to Sam. “That’ll be all.”

He nods, and he punches the order in on the cash register, making her pay before he starts getting everything ready. Ria pulls you to the side as he does so, and you avert your eyes from her, not wanting her to know.

You’ve never told them about Sam. You didn’t see how mentioning a seventeen-day long summer fling would amount to anything, so you just didn’t tell them. And maybe it’s dumb luck, but before this day you were never really faced with Sam. He’d always been easily avoidable, and so it really wasn’t necessary to tell your friends.

“What’s wrong?”

Ria’s question goes unanswered as you keep avoiding her gaze, looking towards the tables. You motion to one in the back, as far away from the counter as possible. “Do you want to sit there?”

Ria doesn’t even look that way. She grabs your wrist, gently, trying to gain your attention. “Girl, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you lie, and you offer her a tight-lipped smile that you know doesn’t meet your eyes. 

No, your eyes are filled with memories of the past, of a summer that meant far too much and yet meant nothing, or at least you’ve been telling yourself that ever since you moved in with Taehyung and left your hometown behind.

You think it’s a sick and twisted trick of fate that Sam is going to the same college as you. But then again, you’re not surprised – it’s one of the best colleges in this part of the country.

“Bitch,” Ria lets out, but then Sam calls her to say the order is ready. She frowns, before telling you to go get the table.

You do, mostly because you can feel Sam’s gaze on you, and you really don’t want to have to interact with him anymore. So you head to the table, and you sit with your back to the rest of the café even though you usually prefer sitting in a position that allows you to see the whole place.

Ria is quick to meet you at the table, and she puts down the tray of food in front of you, before plopping down in the chair across the table from you. You watch as she rids herself of her coat, and you mirror her, draping yours over the back of your chair, avoiding glancing towards the bar.

“Who’s that?” Ria asks once you’re facing her again. 

You watch as she grabs the plate with her sandwich and her latté before pushing the tray towards you. You busy yourself with biting in your croissant, but soon enough you know you’ll have to answer.

You just don’t want to revisit your story with Sam. Maybe because it was so short, yet hurt so fiercely you decided to forgo relationships for a good while.

“Just someone from my hometown,” you tell her.

She cocks an eyebrow. “And?”

“There’s no and.” 

You say it sternly, authoritatively, with not a single ounce of teasing. It makes Ria’s eyes widen, and she glances towards Sam. She doesn’t say anything for a while, taking a sip from her latté before she looks at you again. 

“I’m assuming we hate him.”

You sigh, looking down at the croissant in your hands, before sliding your gaze to the cold world outside. “Honestly, not really. We just don’t speak of him.”

“Yeah, that’s it, I hate this dude.”

It makes you snort, and you slightly shake your head. “You know I love you, right?”

“Don’t get sentimental, ew,” Ria teases, though she smiles a wicked smile when you roll your eyes at her. “I love you too.”

After that, you carefully drive Ria away from the subject as you eat, and by the time you’re returning to the library, this time with the goal of meeting up with Hoseok and Yoongi, Ria seems to have forgotten all about it. Or she’s just being a good friend, not pressing you on a subject she can sense is sensitive.

You reckon it’s stupid that it is, but you can’t really control your feelings, can you?

You walk in the library, eyes skimming over the place. Yoongi and Hoseok claimed to be in a study room, yet your eyes don’t go towards them, instead turning towards the counter where you can rent books. Jungkook is sitting there, looking bored as all hell, scrolling through his phone mindlessly.

As if he can sense you, he raises his head, and his lips spread in a small smile even in the distance. You reciprocate it, and thoughts of Sam slowly dwindle away as his smile broadens, and he waves at you. You’re about to wave back, stifling a laugh, when Jungkook’s smile dies, and even in the distance you can see him clenching his jaw.

You only understand why when Hoseok stops next to you, draping his arm over your shoulder.

“Hey girls,” he says, and he pulls you in a little closer. 

You don’t look away from Jungkook as you give Hoseok a half-assed hug, before stepping away from him. Yet Jungkook doesn’t seem relieved, doesn’t seem happy…

Does he care?

You’d ask him. You would ask him what he thought about the last few days, but then again you reckon you shouldn’t. Because he’s your brother’s best friend, but also because he’s your roommate. You can’t afford things growing awkward between you and him, not when you don’t feel like moving to the dorms.

You’d rather keep your apartment, thank you very much.

Hoseok explains that he was on his way back to the study room from filling his water bottle, and Ria and he fall into conversation as he leads you two to where Yoongi is already sitting. Yoongi offers you a curt nod, but he doesn’t smile or say anything, going right back to what he was doing.

He’s got headphones on, and you assume he’s mixing something for a production class from the sight of the screen of his laptop. You end up sitting next to him, as Ria claims the spot next to Hoseok, which you don’t mind all that much.

You think you’ve had enough of men for today, even though Hoseok didn’t do anything wrong.  

So studying it is.

*****

It’s late when you finally decide to head home, figuring you’re done cramming information for your midterm. You’re starting to get a headache, so you decline your friends’ invitation to grab a drink before heading home, and you make your way home alone, hands hidden deep in the pockets of your coat, searching for a small hint of warmth. 

Needless to say, they don’t find any, and you get home feeling like you’ve turned into an icicle. To your surprise, Jungkook is sitting on the couch when you get there, and from the shoes by the door, you understand that Jimin is here too.

You didn’t even notice Jungkook leaving the library. But then again, his shift probably ended a few hours ago, so it makes sense that he came home.

Are you a little disappointed that he didn’t even tell you? Maybe. Do you feel foolish for it?

Definitely.

“Done studying?” Jungkook asks, and he takes a sip from a beer. 

You nod, shrugging your shoulders. “I can’t retain any more information,” you joke half-heartedly. “My head feels like it’s going to explode.”

Jungkook smirks. He fucking smirks, and you want to punch him, yet you stay rooted to your spot. Even more so as he says, “Maybe I could help you with that.”

He’s a mystery. A real fucking mystery, and it’s driving you crazy. You glance towards the bathroom door, but you know the walls are too thin. You know you can’t admit that yes, Jungkook could help.

So you reply, “You wish, JK.”

He pulls at his piercing, his eyes trailing to the bathroom door, before nodding once, as if understanding that you can’t say more because Jimin is here.

“Want a beer?” he suggests.

And though you said no to your friends, though you should say no to Jungkook, the way his big doe eyes hold yours make you fold, and you nod your head. Jungkook smiles, and you think you see a hint of what you saw during the power outage, but it disappears like it was never there when Jimin opens the bathroom door.

“Hey, Y/n!” he greets you.

You begrudgingly look away from Jungkook. “Sup, Jimin.”

He motions towards the living room, and your eyes trail back to Jungkook. “Want to chill with us?”

“Just a beer,” you answer, and Jimin smiles brightly.

“Well then get out of your coat and go sit, I was heading to the kitchen already.”

You thank him, and you do as he says, shrugging off your coat and kicking off your boots. You hang your coat in the closet before walking to the living room. Jungkook is sitting in the middle of the couch, and you sit on his left, as far away as you possibly can. 

If he notices he doesn’t say, instead motioning to the neatly folded blanket on the coffee table that he’s undoubtedly brought from his room. 

“Feel free to grab this if you get cold,” he tells you, offering you a smile. 

You see the glint in his eyes. Not quite mischief, but recognition. Like he knows what the last days were, like maybe he did feel something as well. You gulp, unable to hold the weight of it, and your eyes drop to your lap.

“We should talk about…” you whisper, not finishing the sentence in fear of Jimin hearing.

Maybe it was the wrong thing to say. Because you feel Jungkook tense next to you, and you know his big eyes have probably narrowed as he frowns from your words. 

“What about it?” he asks, not bothering to lower his voice.

You shoot him a warning glance, and his lips tilt in a lazy smirk. Thankfully, he doesn’t say anything else, though you don’t have time to say something either as Jimin comes back from the kitchen, with a beer for you and one for himself in hand.

He gives you yours before sitting back next to Jungkook, and you find yourself watching an episode of an anime you don’t know, sipping on your beer, trying to pretend that you didn’t notice Jungkook shifting a little closer.

That you don’t notice how he pressed his thigh against yours, not once looking at you. It makes you feel far too warm, but you know it’s too late now for you to claim you’d rather head to bed than drink your beer. So you suffer through the episode, even as Jungkook slowly leans into you.

Jimin will notice. It’s all you can think of. When you’ve finally had enough and you scooch away from Jungkook, he throws you a confused look.

You just glare at him, and then resume your attention on the TV. It goes like that for the whole episode, and you’ve never been as thankful as you are right now about the fact that anime episodes are so short. Because as soon as the episode ends, Jungkook straightens, acting as if he wasn’t half sprawled on you.

Jimin doesn’t comment on it. But you know from his momentary slight frown that he noticed, and you can only hope it won’t reach Taehyung’s ears.

You’re as good as dead if it does.

“Well,” Jimin says, glancing at his phone. “I’ll need to go, Sera is waiting for me.”

“Sounds good,” Jungkook says. “Thanks for coming.”

You wave Jimin goodbye as he gets up from the couch, taking a sip of your half-empty beer. Jungkook walks him to the door, and when Jimin finally leaves, Jungkook turns around to look at you, leaning back against the door.

“So you wanted to talk?” he says, cocking his head to the side.

Your throat feels dry, so you take another sip of beer before nodding once. “Yeah.”

“I’m listening.”

You wonder if he’s told that to a lot of girls in the past. Jungkook is the type to run at the first sign of emotion from a girl. You know it, you’ve seen the results on campus. But he can’t really run from you when you share an apartment, can he?

“What should we do about Taehyung?” you ask, pulling at some dry skin on your bottom lip.

The space between you and Jungkook fills with something you’re not quite sure you like. It’s cold, bitter, and it tastes awfully like regret. Especially as Jungkook answers, “Nothing. We just pretend nothing happened, no?”

For that is the logical solution – you know it just as well as he, but for some reason, you don’t like it. Don’t like the way your heart clenches in your chest at the thought.

“Is that what you want?” you ask him.

He slides his hands in the pocket of his pants, shrugging. “Yeah. I don’t see why it would need to be a big deal.”

“It’s not a big deal,” you say. “I’m not trying to make it into a big deal.”

He lazily smirks. “Right.”

You shut your eyes in annoyance, slightly shaking your head. “No, for real,” you insist. “If you want us to just pretend that nothing happened, then we do that.”

“You awfully  sound like that’s not what you want.”

His tone has changed. It’s not playful anymore. It’s serious and you wonder, is that how Jungkook ends things with the girls he fucks? Pretending like he doesn’t care, like you’re just another name to add to the long list?

“I just don’t want things to get weird,” you choose to reply, though your first instinct is to agree with his statement. “Since we live together.”

“Don’t worry about it, peach,” Jungkook says, and he sounds more like his usual self now. “I won’t make things weird.”

You nod, meeting his gaze again. There’s a moment where it feels like the distance between you and him dwindled to nothing, like you’re about to fall into his big doe eyes. You think you spy sadness in those eyes, emotions hidden beneath a thick wall, but he blinks and it’s gone, and you’re back on the couch in a reality you’re not sure you like.

The distance feels grander somehow. Like, maybe the couch moved back. Like a crevice was formed, and you don’t know how to cross the distance anymore. But it’s safer here, safer not to admit to Jungkook that being with him made you feel something. Not only because of Taehyung, but because of Sam Hwang, and of your life before, and of all the little fucked up things in your head that make it so you just aren’t the type of person to date to begin with.

You’re not delusional enough to think Jungkook would want to date you anyway. You were just the forbidden prize, and now that Jungkook has had you, you’re pretty sure he’s just going to move on to the next.

The thought hurts, and you wonder if he sees it in your eyes. Because he’s still there by the door, carefully watching you as if his gaze can convey what words can’t.

But life doesn’t work that way, does it?

You blink, sliding your eyes away from him and down to the beer in your hands, and you take a long sip, letting the bitter taste chase away the aftertaste of the conversation. It doesn’t really do anything, but Jungkook decides to leave, wishing you good night with a half-smile over his shoulder.

When he’s disappeared into his room, you let out a long sigh, trying hard not to reminisce the blackout, and the moments you’d spent in his arms. 

Yet that night, when sleep evades you, you think about that first kiss. About the weight of the emotions, about the way he’d held you. And you feel like, maybe he blindsided you all along.

Maybe you were stupid to think Jeon Jungkook had a heart.

Friday, February 22nd

The bar is filled to the brim with drunk party-goers, and the music is loud enough you can’t hear your thoughts anymore.

“This is a frat party,” you state as Ria grins and nods her head to the beat.

She shrugs. “Who cares, you love frat parties.”

You chuckle, and your eyes slide to Nabi. “Are you sure you want to stay here?”

“Namjoon said they’re in the back,” Nabi replies, but you can tell she looks uncomfortable with the amount of people present. “I’ll tell him to come get us.”

You watch her as she types away on her phone, glancing towards Ria.

“What’s the plan tonight, baby?” she says mischievously when your gaze connects. “Hobi, or do you want someone else?”

Ever since Ria’s learned about Sam, she’s been pushing you towards Hoseok even more. Maybe because she wants you to forget, or maybe because she thinks Hoseok is what you want. And though sex is always good with him, you haven’t reached out since the power outage and the evening of studying you’d spent at the library with him and Yoongi.

He hasn’t reached out either, so you figure it’s all good.

“I don’t know,” you reply. “I’ll see where the night goes.”

Ria nods. “I desperately want to get fucked tonight.”

Nabi surprises you by bursting out laughing. “Saw Jeon Jungkook get in before we did, just go to him.”

You keep your features cool and composed as your gaze slides to Nabi, before going back to Ria. Ria watched the whole thing carefully, yet when you don’t say anything, she replies, “Honestly, I might. Shelly said he’s free to hit on now.”

Because of course Shelly had called dibs on Jungkook. Not that you knew, and not that you cared. You’ve never considered her a friend to begin with, and you’d be lying if you aren’t a little happy that Jungkook decided to stop seeing her after he had sex with you.

Even if you’re pretending nothing ever happened. And he’s good at that – barely even speaking to you except for the formalities, though he did tease you once about looking tired. 

You clench your jaw as the memory fills your mind, and you believe you can hear him say, ‘Need help with that’ all over again. Which, you reckon, you might. Because every night, like clockwork, Jungkook invades your thoughts, and you’re forced to relive the moments he’d breathed against your skin, fucking you like he had all the time in the world.

Maybe then he did. Maybe he even believed it, though he’s been good at pretending he didn’t. So have you. Or at least you hope so.

“Then my plan is to fuck him tonight,” Ria declares solemnly. “I want to know what all those girls are on about.”

You know. You know exactly what they’re on about, yet the jealousy feels like it’s searing through you as you do catch sight of Jungkook when you look away from your friends.

He’s looking this way. He’s leaning against the bar, a pretty long-haired girl next to him. His arm is behind her, and she’s tucked into his side, saying something you’re pretty sure he’s not listening to. Indeed, he doesn’t blink, doesn’t look away, his eyes burning on you. So you make a show of eyeing him up and down before looking away.

Do you feel a certain sort of satisfaction when you notice Hoseok heading this way, which means Jungkook will see you with him? Maybe. 

But you’d never admit that in a million years.

“Hey,” Hoseok says, leaning against you.

He reeks of alcohol, and you reckon you probably won’t have sex with him tonight. But when he goes in and presses a drunken kiss to your temple, you let him do it, eyes sliding back towards Jungkook.

Even in the distance you see how Jungkook clenches his jaw. He’s quick to compose himself though, features relaxing as he turns to the side, facing the pretty girl. She beams at his attention, and your nails dig into your palms as he pushes a strand of hair behind her ear, his fingers lingering on her cheek.

Ria and Nabi hug Hoseok in turn, and they both earn the same kiss you did. It makes you laugh, though Jungkook doesn’t see that, his attention fully on the girl. Hoseok tells you all to follow him, and then he leads you to the back of the bar, where you find Yoongi, Namjoon and Seokjin. Namjoon’s gaze immediately connects with Nabi’s, and he mouths an apology as he motions to his current position as an explanation as to why he couldn’t go get you and your friends by the door.

He’s stuck next to Yoongi, and you highly doubt Yoongi wanted to get up. Yet, you feel like you are intruding on the mute conversation between Nabi and Namjoon, so you look away, your eyes landing on Seokjin.

Seokjin is attractive. Handsome, in a simple, elegant way that only people born into money have. When he smiles at you, nodding his head once, you echo the gesture, though you let Ria slide into the booth so that she can sit next to him.

Because if there’s one thing that you know, it’s that Seokjin is right up her alley. And if that means she won’t go for Jungkook…

You don’t explore that thought further, instead sitting next to her. Yoongi begrudgingly gets up to let Nabi sit next to Namjoon, and Hoseok goes to the table next to yours to ask if he can borrow a chair. He comes back with one, sitting at the head of the table.

Conversation slowly starts around you, Seokjin and Ria speaking with Namjoon in front of them. Nabi is silent, but she listens intently. You can’t bring yourself to join in, instead meeting Hoseok’s gaze and smiling secretively.

His eyes dip to your lips, though they do not darken the way that they usually do, probably from the alcohol in his system. 

“How were midterms?” he asks, with that same slightly slurred speech he sported earlier.

“It was chill, but I’m glad they’re over now. You?”

He chuckles. “Got fucked in a couple of them, but I honestly don’t give a fuck.”

You snort, and before you can say anything, Yoongi chimes in, “Is that why I found you crying the other day?”

Hoseok turns a colour of red so deep you think it’d put a tomato to shame. “I did not!”

Yoongi snickers. “Right.” His eyes slide to you, and you think it’s the first time he’s ever regarded you with something other than animosity. Indeed, he’s got a playful light to his eyes, and you reckon he looks good like this.

You can understand why Ria tried to hit on him.

“He totally did,” Yoongi says, and then he lets out a small, pained sound from the kick Hoseok undoubtedly landed on his leg.

“I hate you, man.”

Yoongi winks, and you burst out laughing, slightly shaking your head. “Honestly, Hoba,” you say once your laugh has dimmed, “there’s nothing embarrassing about crying over your grades. I did it all the time when I was younger.”

“I wasn’t crying!” Hoseok insists.

You and Yoongi exchange a glance, before bursting out laughing again. Hoseok pouts, a frown clinging to his features. Though you don’t really feel bad, you still brush his thigh under the table, and he goes wholly still, his frown melting away.

“Anyway,” he says, clearing his throat. “You want anything to drink?”

You do. You’re thirsty for something to smooth the stress of midterms and Jeon Jungkook away. So you nod, smiling wickedly.

“Lead the way.”

Hoseok chuckles, and you end up taking everyone’s order before getting up to head to the bar behind Hoseok and Yoongi. You’re squeezed behind Yoongi, Hoseok on the other side of him, as you wait at the bar a few minutes later, eyes skimming over the array of alcohol on the wall. You’re planning to order a pitcher of sangria for you and the girls, and Yoongi and Hoseok are taking care of two pitchers of beer. They’re deep in conversation, and you just stand behind them awkwardly, unable to hear them over the sound of the music.

You don’t mind. You focus on your phone, trying to see if Taehyung has replied to the message you sent him earlier. It was late for him in Paris, so you’re not surprised to find he hasn’t, the message only showing delivered. You turn off your phone and slide it back in your purse, before stepping closer to the bar as Hoseok and Yoongi get what they ordered.

“Do you want us to wait for you?” Yoongi asks, taking you by surprise.

Since when is Yoongi friendly with you?

“No,” you answer, eyes darting to Hoseok who’s just smiling with his cheeks flushed red. “All good, I’ll meet you guys back at the table.”

They nod, and you slip past them to lean against the counter, trying to get the barman’s attention. He’s currently on the other side, serving a suspiciously familiar tattooed hand, and you feel like rolling your eyes as you realize Jungkook is clearly buying a drink for the pretty girl at his side.

You forget all about Jeon Jungkook when a certain Sam Hwang slides into your vision, leaning against the counter right in front of you.

You startle. Eyes going wide like a deer in headlights, heart rate picking up to an uncomfortable level. You don’t like that he still has a physical effect on you, and it only increases tenfold when he breaks into an easy smile.

“Y/n!” he says, as if there aren’t months between you, as if on that dreadful day in August, he didn’t just leave. “I thought it was you.”

You freeze. You don’t know what to reply, only look at him as if he’s a jack in the box that’s just exploded in your face. He takes it in stride, chuckling lightly in that gentle way of his that used to make you go crazy.

“How have you been?” he asks, features falling a little more serious, brows slightly scrunched as if your answer will be the most important thing he’ll hear all night.

“Why are you talking to me?” you blurt out, and he slightly widens his eyes as if in surprise.

“Should I not?” he replies, easily tilting his head to the side in that nonchalant way of his. His blond hair falls like a cascade, and you can’t help but averting your gaze to it.

“You don’t wear your hair in a ponytail anymore?”

You want to curse yourself for the stupidity of your question, but Sam’s always been nonchalant. Someone that goes with the flow, that likes the weird things in life. You think maybe that’s why he had been interested in you back then. 

Until he wasn’t.

“No, ponytails are cold in the winter,” he jokes. 

You can barely smile in answer. You wish you hadn’t told Yoongi and Hoseok to go back to the table, and you glance over your shoulder, hoping that they’d sense your unease and come back. They’re nowhere to be seen though, hidden by the crowd populating the bar.

“Are they?” you say, not a single ounce of joy in your tone.

Sam nods. “Yeah. But enough about that. How are you?”

“I’m okay,” you lie, because frankly standing in front of him like this is making you feel anything but okay. You don’t want him to know though, so you try to plaster an indifferent mask to your features.

You highly doubt it works. Because it never works with Sam Hwang.

“I’m glad,” he replies, smiling softly. He turns his head to the side, and you only then notice the barman has stopped next to you. “I’ll have a rum and coke and she’ll take…” he trails off as he looks at you. “A Soho cocktail?”

You blink once, not really believing that he remembers. That though you lasted all of seventeen days, he still remembers your favourite cocktail.

Needless to say, you haven’t drank any since he walked away that night.

“A pitcher of red sangria and three glasses,” you say, looking at the barman. “Please.”

The barman nods once, and then busies himself with making the cocktails. You try your best not to look at Sam, but his piercing gaze lingers on you, and you can’t help but glance his way.

“You don’t drink Soho anymore?”

“This is not a Japanese inspired bar,” you say, trying to avoid the truth. “Highly doubt he’d know how to make a good cocktail with it.”

You know Sam can tell you’re lying, but he shrugs it off. “Oh well. How’s the bio major going?”

You purse your lips, gulping once. Because why does he remember so much? He’d made it pretty clear that he didn’t care… did he?

“It’s not too bad,” you answer. “You? The college experience is up to your expectations?”

If he hears the bite in your voice, he doesn’t care. Instead, he chuckles lightly, shaking his head, before saying, “I really was an ass last summer. I’m sorry.”

It’s like the world stops turning. Like you’re taken back to the warm summer evening, to the docks and the group of friends you hadn’t seen once after that night. You still feel the warm breeze, still can smell the salt in the air, and you almost believe you can hear the waves.

“What?” is all you manage to get out.

He laughs, like it’s the best joke you’ve ever said in your entire life. “I’m sorry for how I treated you. I was a dick.”

“Honestly,” you say, feeling your heart constricting in your chest, “I don’t want to be talking to you right now.”

He furrows his brow. “Oh, come on, Y/n. It’s water under the bridge.”

But it’s not. Because that night he left you alone, and you were far from home not knowing how you’d get back. You’re lucky nothing bad happened – one of the dock workers happened to be your mother’s ex, and he drove you home telling you that the docks weren’t a playground and that you shouldn’t be hanging around there.

You didn’t have the courage to tell him that you had been with friends and had gotten dumped out of the blue.

“Is it though?” you answer, and venom starts to sip into your tone. “You left me alone that night.”

“I know,” he says. “And I’m sorry about it.”

“So, did you get the college experience?” you ask, crossing your arms on your chest. 

Sam scoffs, looking up to the ceiling as if searching for salvation. “Come on, don’t be petty.” He looks back at you, that same insufferable smile on his lips, and he shrugs. “Not really. I realized that none of them compared to you.”

You think the sun has flared and the consequential magnetic storm has fried Sam’s neurons. Because it doesn’t make sense. After months it doesn’t make sense, and you don’t want it. Yet it makes you freeze, and you remember the texts you’d sent him. You remember calling him, even showing up at his job because you wanted to apologize. You remember the embarrassment of his coworkers laughing at you, remember leaving and promising yourself you’d never chase after a man again.

To this day, you’ve held up to your promise.

But his words send you tumbling down a steep slope, and you think you’ll splatter on the rocks at the bottom. Your heart hurts so much it’s hard to breathe, and you wish you could grab a glass on the counter and throw it at his pretty face.

The violent instinct makes you recoil, and you take a step back, only to bump into someone.

“Hey, everything okay here?” Jungkook says, his familiar voice like a safe haven. 

You glance over your shoulder, and at the look on your features, he immediately steps even closer to you, mindlessly wrapping an arm around your waist. 

It’s worth the shocked expression on Sam’s features. His eyes dip to Jungkook’s hand, now resting on your hip, before looking back up to your features. His eyes widen, and he barks out a short, bitter laugh that resembles nothing of his usual cool charm.

“You’re fucking your brother’s friend?” Sam says, and his words hit like darts straight on the board, though the board is your heart. He hits bull's eye, and you immediately push Jungkook off of you.

“I am not,” you reply. “Maybe he just tried to step in because you can’t fucking take a clue, can you?”

Sam seems so startled by your words that he falls silent, mouth wide open. He looks like a fish, a stupid fish, and you wonder how you managed to actually love him once.

“Excuse me?” he finally says.

“You heard the lady,” Jungkook jumps in. “Fuck off.”

“I don’t fucking need your help,” you throw towards Jungkook.

You feel bad. You feel bad the minute the words are out, especially as you watch Jungkook’s features crumbling into a frown. You hold his gaze, slightly shaking your head as if to say ‘Please understand that this is nothing against you’. You’re not sure he understands, and before he’s able to say anything else, the pretty girl who was with him earlier appears, pulling on his arm.

Sam laughs bitterly, all at your expense, as the girl pulls Jungkook away, saying something about how she’s been waiting for him. Jungkook looks like he wants to resist, to stay by your side, but the look on your face does the deed, and he turns away from you, heading to wherever the girl is bringing him.

From what it seems, they’re heading to the bathroom, and it makes you feel like you’re going to be sick, like you might need to run outside to breathe in some air.

“You know,” Sam says, attracting your attention. “I was right when I dumped you last summer. You’re fucking crazy.”

He leaves without another single word, not even waiting for his drink to be ready. You just stand there, stunned, only shaking out of it when the barman says something next to you.

“Oh,” you let out as you glance towards him. He’s put down Sam’s drink and the pitcher of sangria on the bar, and you don’t know what to do for a few seconds, blinking back tears. “Uh, I’ll pay for everything, but I won’t need the rum and coke.”

You assume the barman has seen the entire altercation as he shrugs. “Hey, don’t worry about it. I’ll keep it for myself, no need to pay.”

You offer him a tight-lipped smile, and you pay for the sangria before stacking the three glasses, leaning them against your chest to make sure you won’t drop them on the walk back to the table with your friends. You’re lucky – the trek back to the table is uneventful, and you put the pitcher and the glasses down amidst your friends’ chatter.

Nabi glances at you once before saying, “What’s wrong?”

Maybe you didn’t realize your eyes were filling with tears. But they sure are, and you furiously blink away, plopping down next to Ria.

“Nothing.”

Nabi furrows her brows, right as everyone’s focus slides to you. The embarrassment of suddenly being the center of attention thankfully pushes your tears away, and you shrug once, taking a deep breath.

“Just some asshole at the bar,” you vaguely explain at everyone’s curious expression.

But it wasn’t just some asshole. There was Jungkook too, and you know you owe him an apology. Yet you don’t know how to apologize to him. Not when the grounds between the two of you are so uncertain, like one wrong move will send you straight to the bottommost pit of the ocean. 

“If you tell me it’s that dude from the café I will go feral,” Ria grumbles next to you.

Right. She knows about Sam.

“As much as I’d love to see you going feral,” you tease, “let’s just drink.”

“So it was him?”

You purse your lips, refusing to answer, as the boys all intently listen to the conversation. 

“It was who?” Nabi asks, looking confused.

You’d assumed Ria would have filed her in, but it seems she hasn’t, for Nabi clearly doesn’t know about Sam Hwang. Not that Ria knows a lot to begin with.

“Someone from her hometown,” Ria mimics in her best impression of you, which only makes you snort.

“Let’s just drink,” you insist, and you immediately busy yourself with pouring the three glasses.

Your friends look like they want to press you for further explanation – especially Hoseok – but no one says anything. It’s a little awkward, but the moment you clink your glasses together, the weirdness fades away, replaced by a will to revel like only college kids revel.

And so you do. You lose track of the amount of alcohol you’re drinking, taking shots after shots after shots with Ria, while Nabi cheers on you standing right next to Namjoon. Namjoon, who stands just a tad too close to Nabi for it to be casual. You’d make jokes about it, but Ria drags you away, and you find yourself squeezed on the dancefloor, letting Ria grind on you as people look your way.

You don’t care. You can’t bring yourself to care when you’ve drank so much, when all there is is the music and the lights and the throng of bodies that endlessly moves like countless waves on the ocean, the pull and push of the moon inevitable. At low tide, when the crowd disperses in the night, you find yourself blinking, realizing that Ria is not with you anymore.

As a matter of fact, you suddenly can’t see any of your friends, and if it wasn’t for the alcohol in your bloodstream, you’d be worried. Instead, you pull out your phone from your purse, furrowing your brows at it.

[00:56 am] JK: what’s ur problem lol

You stare at the text, not knowing what to reply. Not trusting your drunken fingers to convey a good enough apology. So you ignore it, instead aiming for the group chat. 

[02:54 am] You: wher arr u

You press send, uncaring for the typos, trusting your friends to be able to decipher. To your luck, Hoseok immediately shoots you an answer.

[02:54 am] Hobi: I’m outside with yoongi, idk about the others

And so you make your way outside, stopping at the coat check to grab your coat. While you put it on, a too-familiar blond guy, along with two friends you recognize from last summer, arrives and Sam shoots you a look, lips slightly curling in disgust.

You frown, and unable to resist, you close the space between the two of you, pulling on his arm.

“What’s your fucking problem?” you tell him as he turns towards you.

“What do you want?” he fires back.

You feel your throat closing up, yet you can’t stop. Not when old emotions resurface, though you reckon they aren’t all that old to begin with. “Why did you leave me alone at the docks?”

He freezes for a few heartbeats. Long enough for his friends to retrieve their coats, and then they turn to look at you. The redhead you recognize for being there that night, yet you don’t direct the question at him. Not even as he sneers at the sight of you, as if you’re just some disgusting trash.

“Y/n,” Sam lets out, and you tell yourself that he sounds apologetic. 

Otherwise you don’t think you’ll make it. Not when you loved him like you did, like only a heart that’s never been broken can.

“Why though?” you press him. “It was dangerous. I could have gotten hurt.”

Sam purses his lips in a thin line, shrugging. “Was it though? You seem perfectly fine.”

You blink away tears, and in a surprising moment of memories of you and him, Sam truly does look apologetic.

“I was in love with you,” you whisper, alcohol forbidding you from preserving any ounce of dignity.

Sam glances over his shoulder. His friends seem to get the cue, because they disappear, heading outside. “Listen, I know,” he says. “I was a dick. That’s why I approached you earlier, but you weren’t really looking to speak to me.”

You take a deep breath, nodding once. “You took me by surprise.”

“Do you want to grab coffee soon?” he suggests.

You’re a fool. A drunken fool, because you say yes. You say yes and to text you whenever, and Sam promises he will, before leaving you alone, like he’d done once all those months ago. But when he leaves, you notice Hoseok by the door, close enough to have heard the conversation.

Your eyes are still brimmed with tears, and Hoseok offers you a tight-lipped smile. 

“Everything okay?”

And because this is Hoseok, because he’s already been in the aftermath of what Sam was to you, you shake your head no, unable to keep the tears from rolling down your cheeks.

“Let’s get you home,” Hoseok gently says as he crosses the distance between you and him, gently pulling you into a hug.

He rubs your back as you sob into his chest, gently rocking you from side to side. Or maybe it’s the alcohol, and the ground feels like it’s tilting under you. But Hoseok doesn’t let you go, and he lets you cry in his arms until the bouncer tells you you have to go out.

You do, eyes undoubtedly red and stained with your runny makeup, yet you don’t care. You really are drunk, and you think maybe you won’t even remember all of this tomorrow.

“You think we can drop her at her apartment?” Hoseok says, and you offer him a confused look, only to realize that he’s speaking to Yoongi, who seems like he’s been waiting outside this whole time.

“She can hit the couch,” Yoongi suggests, shrugging. “I don’t think the Uber driver will be down for the detour.”

And even if you don’t say yes or no, it’s still what you end up doing. You go home with Hoseok and Yoongi, and Hoseok holds your hand while rubbing soothing circles on the back of it. You’re not crying anymore, instead feeling empty and oh so tired. Hoseok helps you out of your coat once you’re in his apartment, and Yoongi goes to the kitchen to pour you a glass of water.

He meets you and Hoseok in the living room, where Hoseok pulled you after you finished removing your coat.

“Here,” Yoongi says, offering you the glass.

You thank him with a slight bow of your head, grabbing the water and downing it in one shot. Hoseok and Yoongi chuckle lightly at the sight, and then Yoongi plops down on the couch next to Hoseok.

Maybe you’re a little too drunk to notice Hoseok leaning into Yoongi, and Yoongi draping an arm around Hoseok’s shoulder. Maybe you’re a little too gone to realize you’re sitting alone on your side of the couch now, but you don’t care.

“Who was that guy?” Hoseok gently asks.

You take a deep breath and then launch into the story. You spare them no details – you reveal everything about how you’d met through friends from high school, most of them not having followed you here to college. You’d met at a party, had a love-at-first-sight moment, and you’d spent the following seventeen days glued to his side. You tell them about the docks, about what he’d told you, and about the way he’d left you there, with no way to go home. Hoseok bristles as you tell them, but he stays silent as you continue, admitting that you said yes to grabbing coffee with him.

“No way you’re going on a date with him,” Hoseok says, and he surprisingly sounds offended.

“I don’t know,” is what you reply.

“Y/n, that guy is an asshole,” Yoongi intervenes before Hoseok can say anything else. He tightens his arm around Hoseok, and you furrow your brows. “You deserve better than that.”

You look at Hoseok, before sliding your gaze to Yoongi, and then back to Hoseok. And then, even though your brain is foggy and you’re confused, and nothing seems to be making any sense, you blurt, “Is something going on between the two of you?”

Hoseok startles, sitting up from where he was leaning against Yoongi. He flushes deep red, and Yoongi lets out a low chuckle. You’re not surprised when Yoongi says, “So what if yes?”

You meet Hoseok’s gaze. He looks apologetic, like he’s somehow doing something wrong, but you start laughing. Maybe it’s an anxious laugh, like a ‘what the fuck is this evening’ kind of laugh, but you still laugh, and Hoseok just looks at you like you’ve grown horns or something.

“I’m going to need an explanation,” you say once your laughter subsides. “Not that I’m not cool with it.”

“See,” Yoongi says. “I told you it would be okay.”

“It’s more than okay,” you add. “I am actually so relieved.”

“Relieved?” Hoseok lets out.

You shrug. “I didn’t want to hurt you more,” you admit. 

And it’s true. You think, the moment you slept with Jungkook, you knew you’d never have sex with Hoseok again. Not that you didn’t like it, but Jungkook is Jungkook, and you reckon you’ll need a moment before you can fuck someone other than him.

“You weren’t hurting me,” Hoseok says, and he looks down at his hands in his lap. “Maybe in November, yeah. But not this time around.”

“I made sure of it,” Yoongi offers as an explanation. 

You slightly shake your head. “Wait, wait, wait. What happened?”

“Power outage,” Hoseok offers as an explanation, and he’s still so red you think he’ll burst into flames. 

You almost blurt out ‘same’, yet you keep it down at the last second. Maybe because you’re sobering up, or because the subject is sobering you up. Maybe because there’s something just so strange about Yoongi and Hoseok together, especially after you’ve been with Hoseok too. But then again, if he’s happy, then you’ll be happy for him.

Realization hits you a second before you say, “Is that why you haven’t been a dick to me anymore?”

Yoongi bursts out laughing. You’ve never heard him laughing like this, and there’s something so cute about it that you get it.

You get why Hoseok would be into him. And you also get why Ria wasn’t able to ask Yoongi out – he’s been into Hoseok all along.

“Maybe,” Yoongi says, shrugging. “Honestly… I was jealous of you for a while.”

You cock an eyebrow. “Dude, I thought you hated me.”

“I did a little,” he admits sheepishly. “But not anymore.”

“Can you guys stop?” Hoseok bursts, and he hides his face in his hands. “Fuck, this is so awkward.”

You laugh along with Yoongi, leaning forward to pat him on the shoulder. “Sorry, I guess as people that both fucked you, we immediately get along well.”

“That’s crass,” Hoseok whines, while Yoongi just keeps on laughing behind him, though his cheeks have turned pink.

“But it’s true!”

Hoseok shakes his head, and then finally looks up to you. “Are you sure you’re okay with this?”

The sudden seriousness makes you rein in the joking tone, and you offer him a small smile. You hope it’s as genuine as you feel, though with you being drunk, you wouldn’t be surprised if you just look dumb.

“Of course I’m okay with it,” you reassure him. “We’re friends, aren’t we?”

He tentatively smiles, nodding once. “We are.”

And maybe you’re just relieved they offered a change of subject from Sam Hwang. Especially as Hoseok glances towards Yoongi, his eyes probably conveying unsaid words because Yoongi gets up, wishing you good night. 

You watch him go, and once he’s out of sight, you turn your head back towards Hoseok.

“How did it happen?” you ask with a small voice.

“We got a little drunk on Valentine’s Day,” he says, shrugging, his cheeks still deep red. “I think I said something about you…” His eyes trail to the screen of the TV in front of you, and it reflects you and him like a black mirror. “Yoongi confessed. Said he’s tired of watching me get hurt. I was drunk and I kissed him.”

It reminds you of Jungkook. Of the way he’d gazed at you the instant before he’d kissed you. The weight of the emotions in his eyes had been too much to bear, and you wonder if everything was just a mistake anyway.

“And?” you press, trying to avoid thoughts of Jeon Jungkook and Sam Hwang, though you know it’s useless. 

They’ll come haunt you as soon as you’ll close your eyes tonight.

“And then…” He chuckles awkwardly. “Yeah. It was my first time with a guy. I didn’t even think I could be attracted to men.”

You smile wisely. “College is all about trying new things and discovering new things about yourself.”

“Amen,” he echoes, and you share a short laugh. Once it subsides, Hoseok leans back into the couch, turning to look at you. “Be completely honest with me though. Are you really okay with this?”

You nod, your lips gently curving upwards. “Of course, Hobi. If you’re happy, then I’m happy for you.”

He sighs in relief, and it seems like a weight has been taken off his shoulders. “I’m happy. I never saw it coming, but the last few days have been great.” He pauses for a few seconds, letting out a small laugh that’s only meant for himself, and maybe Yoongi if he was still here. “It’s still early to tell where this will head, and we don’t plan to tell anyone before we’re sure of it but… I figured you at least needed to know. Considering our history.”

You nod. “Makes sense. I promise my lips are sealed.”

“Thank you.”

The following silence is broken up by a yawn, and you hide your mouth behind your hand as to not look like a fish out of water. Once you’ve blinked a few tired tears away, you say, “Does that mean I can sleep in your bed and you share one with Yoongi?”

Hoseok runs a hand through his hair, smirking playfully. “Wouldn’t you like it?”

You cock an eyebrow, snorting. “Are you not sharing a bed?”

“Not yet,” Hoseok admits. “We’re really trying to take things slow.”

And it would make sense. Especially for Hoseok, you reckon.

“Fair enough. I’ll miserably sleep on the couch then.”

He laughs, pushing you playfully. “I’ll have you know this couch is really comfortable.”

“Will you at least give me a blanket?” you ask, pouting and bashing your eyelashes, trying your best to look like a begging puppy.

“Stop,” he says, laughing again. “Yeah, I’ll get you a blanket.”

You thank him as he gets up, heading to his room to grab something for you. He comes back with a sweater and a blanket, offering you both without saying anything.

“Sweater?” you ask, unable to form a full sentence.

“If you want to change out of your clothes.”

Ah. Makes sense.

“Thank you,” you say. 

He nods, smiling softly, and then turns around to head back to his room. Before he’s out of the living room, he turns back around, meeting your gaze.

“What about you though?” he asks.

You furrow your brow quizzically. “What?”

“What happened during the power outage?” he specifies. “You just disappeared.”

You keep your features as blank as your drunken ass possibly can when you reply, “Nothing happened. Just didn’t bother to charge my phone.”

“I saw how Jungkook looked at you at the library last Sunday,” Hoseok says. “You can’t tell me nothing happened.”

And maybe because this is Hoseok, maybe because you think he’s becoming the closest friend you have, you reply, “I don’t think it really matters if something happened.”

“Why?” he asks, leaning against the wall as his hands disappear in the pockets of his pants. 

“He’s Tae’s best friend,” you explain, shrugging your shoulders. “It’s not like I have any future with him.”

“Right.” Hoseok purses his lips, holding your gaze as you let him read the truth in your eyes. “The only thing I have to say is, please be careful. Jungkook doesn’t really have a good reputation.”

You gulp around a sudden lump in your throat. “Fuck, I know. I’m a mess.”

“You aren’t,” Hoseok reassures you. “You said it yourself, college is all about trying new things. Some of the things won’t necessarily work out, and that’s okay. Just try not to put yourself into situations where you’ll only get hurt.”

“Jungkook wouldn’t hurt me,” you say, quick to defend him even though you know he totally would. Even though he already did, when he asked you to pretend like nothing happened.

“Maybe.” Hoseok wets his lips, scrunching up his nose a little. “Or that Sam guy would.”

The reminder of Sam Hwang makes you hide your face in your hands as you groan. “I really am a fucking mess.”

“Don’t go out with him,” Hoseok says. “I’m sure there are plenty of other guys out there that would like to go out with you. Don’t settle for someone who’s already treated you like shit in the past.”

“So, don’t go for Sam or Jungkook, is that so?” you say, laughing awkwardly.

Hoseok frowns. “Don’t. Or do. I’m not your mom. But as a friend, I’d say you deserve better.”

“We’ll see,” you say after a few seconds of silence. “Thanks, Hobi.”

And you mean it. Because you know he cares, even though you might only be a friend now.

“Of course,” he says. “And I’m sorry.”

“About what?”

He looks behind his shoulder, towards what you assume is the door to Yoongi’s room. “About me and Yoongi. About the fact that it happened on the day we were supposed to go on a date.”

“Oh, don’t worry about it,” you reassure him again. “It’s really okay.”

He nods once, before pushing up from the wall. “Good. Yeah. I guess I’ll head to bed, then.”

There’s awkwardness in the air. Maybe because a little over a week ago you would have gone to bed with him, would have gotten your guts rearranged by him. But somehow you don’t feel any ounce of disappointment or regret at the thought that it’s done. Maybe because he truly has become a friend, and you reckon you need friends more than you need to get fucked.

“Good night, Hobi,” you say, offering him a small smile.

“Good night,” he echoes, and then he disappears into his room.

Once you’re alone, you quickly change into his sweater, wrapping yourself up in the blanket. You realize you don’t have a pillow, but you figure it’ll be okay, not wanting to bother Hoseok or Yoongi right now. So you lie on your back, looking up at the ceiling, frowning slightly.

Right. You forgot to turn off the light. You get up to do so, and once you’re lying back down, you grab your phone from your purse. You’ve gotten a few more texts in the group chat, from Ria saying that she told you she was leaving and you’d said it was okay. You frankly don’t remember, but maybe that’s because you had been too busy dancing with a group of girls that had welcomed you in their ranks as if you weren’t just a stranger.

It doesn’t really matter. What matters is the text that Jungkook sent you, and with a sigh, you click on it again. The conversation thread opens, and you scroll up, just to see that the last thing he texted you was something about getting gochujang sauce for him at the grocery store one of the rare times that you went. That text dates back to December, and the text before that was about him asking to go pick him and Taehyung up at a party in early October because Taehyung was too drunk for an Uber ride.

Taehyung had ended up throwing up in your backseat, and you made him clean three times before you’d forgiven him.

You reread Jungkook’s latest text. And you wonder, what was your problem? Why were you so inclined to bite at him, too, when he was just trying to help? It’s a haunting question, and you can’t bring yourself to apologize yet. 

You tell yourself you’d rather do it in person, but as you try to sleep later, the real reason taunts you, haunts you, forcing you to lie awake late in the night.

You’re just too much of a coward to face Jeon Jungkook.

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What did we think of this one? I don't think a lot of people expected that yoongi x hobi twist hahaha I hope you liked it! Let me know what you think:)

All rights reserved to @/oddinary4bts, 2024. Do not copy, repost or translate.

#chasing cars ch 5 #jungkook smut #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook fic #jungkook #jjk smut #jjk angst #jjk fluff #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jjk fic #jjk #jeon jungkook #btswritersclub #chasing cars #chasing cars series

[rrandomtthings]

No one talk to me ever again

#I did not expect this ch to make me start crying like that #but once Kuma started mentioning how he sees luffy as a beacon of hope for the future I broke bro #one piece #op spoilers

[smellrain]

in which: Jack has liked you for years, but so far you have been oblivious to his feelings. Will the guide he made with the help of his teammate make you fall for him? Or will it end up destroying your friendship?

tags: written, mention of use of alcohol, slight angst. (masterlist for this au) (my masterlist) <prev. part: prologue I next part: ch. 2>

notes: [4.3k] First of all: thank you for your kind words after the prologue yesterday! Very happy that so many of you liked it. There is an analysis post about this chapter here that you might want to check out after! I hope you enjoy :) & come tell me how you liked it!!!

It had been a long day at work for you. The data your boss had assigned you had taken you a lot longer to work on than you’d expected, which meant that you actually, genuinely missed your last lecture of the day. You had texted a barely-even-friend that attended the same elective about her notes but you hadn't gotten a text back so far. 

Standing in front of your door now, you leaned the crown of your head against the outside of it and took a deep breath in. You had missed the key hole not once but twice now and the anger that welled up inside of you was completely unwarranted, so you knew you needed to mentally take at least one step back. 

Four seconds in, seven hold, eight out. In and out. You blinked once and the dark of the wood was an unwelcome reminder of reality. Still, unlocked the door, this time succeeding on the first try. 

The hallway was quiet, but you had expected as much. One of your flatmates had a nightshift at the clinic she was working at while the other was sleeping over at her boyfriends. The blissful silence you had looked forward to this morning seemed suffocating now. 

It didn’t matter. It was fine like this, you were fine.

After turning on the kitchen light, you walked to your room, put down your bag and fell down onto your bed, face first. The scratchy fabric of your bedcover was not nearly as nice as the sheets you had dreamed of all day long. 

For a while you let your eyes fall closed, not asleep, but resting nonetheless. You just wanted to rinse the day off of you, but you were too hungry to even think about showering. 

With a groan you peeled yourself off your bed, sat at the edge of your mattress while an inexplicable urge to cry welled up inside of you. Your day had been really shitty and your were really, really hungry.

But you got up anyway and walked towards the light in the kitchen that shone through through the space of the door to your room.

The music you’d put on in the background helped but it didn’t quite scratch that itch for conversation, for company. When you saw your phone light up from where you had left it on the counter, you hoped it might be the classmate you had texted. 

You rinsed off your hands to see who had messaged you. 

Jack (worst Hughes brother): hey what r you doing tn? You: currently making dinner why what did you do what do you need Jack (worst Hughes brother): nothing  wait why did you assume i did/need sth anyways: can i come over soon?

The shower. You still had to shower, but soon for Jack usually meant at least half an hour. It  should be enough time and besides it was just Jack, no reason to put in more effort than necessary. 

You: because you always text me when you need my help sure, I might be eating by then, have you eaten? Jack (worst Hughes brother): I did like 5min ago wait no ignore that, you’re telling me I could have had some of yours??? jkjk see you soon

You liked the last message and turned the heat off your stove. Shower first, you reminded yourself, even as you mourned the loss of the start of your dinner that you had been frying on the stove. 

When he knocked at your door you were still sitting at the small kitchen table that could barely seat two people. “It’s open,” you said, loudly. 

From the sounds you could hear him open and close the door, take off his shoes and leave his bag in the hallway. When he finally came into your view, you couldn’t help but smile. Strange how that worked, considering you had almost cried half an hour ago. Food really worked miracles sometimes. But then again he had always had that kind of effect on you, making you smile despite yourself. 

“That’s not very safe of you,” he had said but he was already smiling, “having your door unlocked.”

“Hey you, fancy seeing you here.”

There was a warm feeling curling itself around your ribcage at the look at him, “hey yourself. I left it open because I knew you were coming over, don’t worry about it.”

“Alright,” he conceded, “did you watch the game yesterday?”

“‘Course I did,” you said, eyes following him as he took a glass from the cabinets and filled it up. There was something intimate about that, the ease he carried himself with, him knowing where to find your glassware and feeling comfortable enough to do so while carrying on with the conversation. 

There was something in you that ached at the feeling, at having someone that comes home to you. At having someone that just feels that comfortable with you, that you live your life alongside with. 

It’s not like you were lonely, you had wonderful flatmates and good friends, but there was just something different about this feeling, about this longing. Or maybe that was just the effect he had on you, inexplicable as always.

“Good, otherwise I would have felt stupid after my goal.”

You had seen the new ritual he did sometimes that he had been asked about by the media sometimes. He had done it a few times now, more often over this past year. He was approached by his teammates first, but then he was still for a bit, putting his hand on his chest and raising it up after, usually waving once. The warmth that had seeped into your bones crept up to your face, “you did that for me?”

The one time he talked to an interviewer about it, he had said it was a new good luck charm he was trying out.

Because of the small table the two of you sat close and his knee kept bumping into yours, but you hardly paid it any mind. It was comforting, having him here, this close in the low light of the kitchen, cradling one of your glasses in his hands. 

Admitting something he hadn’t told anyone else.

“Yeah, of course, had to show my appreciation for my number one fan somehow.”

You laughed a little, “you are such an idiot.”

The smile he gave you in return crinkled up the skin at the corner of his eyes and you wanted to trace that fold with your thumb. What were you even thinking? “I know.”

So you just swatted his shoulder and got up to wash your dish. “Did you guys go out and celebrate?”

Jack turned in his seat, his body facing your back from where he was still sitting at the table, “yeah. It was a really small bar in the middle of nowhere, Nico said he didn’t want to be recognised, despite the win.”

You hummed in response. The constant scrutiny must have been affecting them all after these past few games. “Cool. Did it actually work or,” you trailed off, not really sure how to finish your question. 

“Sort of, I mean we took a few pictures when we came in but it was a lot better than usual.”

“I’m glad then,” you said and turned back around to face him, “I’m glad nothing too exciting happened.”

At the word exciting his expression morphed into something odd. “What?” you asked.

“Nothing,” he answered but he wasn’t meeting your eyes anymore. 

“You can tell me, you know you can,” you reminded him, now getting closer to him again. You were usually able to get out every last secret of his if you just asked the right questions. 

“I know,” he assured you, now pulling you a little closer by your hip and resting his hand there. He had always been touchy like that, arms slung over your shoulders or around your waist, hands holding your wrist to pull you through crowds, thumbs circling your ankle when you rested your legs in his lap. 

“But it’s really nothing, I just got a little drunk,” he assured you, but you didn’t really buy it. 

Still, you had no real reason to press, knowing that it just made him close up further. He would end up telling you, just not now. “Okay.”

The two of you went back to your room soon after, deciding to watch a movie. You didn’t tell him that you were really, genuinely tired, because you knew he could tell. He always could, somehow, even if you yourself weren’t all that aware of it. Funny how that worked.

You sat down first and then patted the spot next to you on the bed, but for a split second you saw him hesitate. That hurt, just a bit because you had thought that the two of you were close enough for it to not matter anymore. 

Still, he leaned against the headboard next to you, his shoulder softly knocking against yours and your worries disappeared at that. You must have imagined it.

“Any preferences?”

“Ratatouille,” you said immediately, not even knowing where that request came from. 

He smiled, “I do like a girl that knows what she wants.”

For some reason you blushed at that, at the barely even there implication of being his. You really were going insane today. “Is that okay for you?”

“Sure,” he said, “let's watch the rat be a better cook than the two of us combined.”

You typed the website and clicked play on your screen and settled your laptop down between the two of you, one knee on each side of the bottom of it. 

You were suddenly keenly aware of the fact that you didn’t even own a tv, that you were watching a movie from your laptop when he could be at home, watching it on a screen that was at least double the size of this.

It was a stupid thought, so you brushed it off. He was a professional athlete, you were a college student. There was something fundamentally different about your current lives, as intertwined as they were. 

The movie started soon after, so you pushed all of that to the back of your mind. At first the two of you ran a semi-steady commentary about what was going on but soon after you were both too engrossed in the story to think about anything fun to say. 

When a sharp sound came from the screen you realised that you had your eyes closed. Sleepily you blinked your eyes open again. It must have been for a few minutes, at least because you weren't sure what was going on anymore. 

“Tired?” he asked, a knowing glint in his eyes. 

You let your forehead fall against his shoulder, this time on purpose. It was a welcome contrast to a few hours ago when you did the same thing against your front door. His shoulder was softer because of his sweatshirt and he smelled nice. Like the shampoo he used, like his laundry detergent. You wondered when that smell had become intrinsically his and not someone else's' like a friend of yours that used the same deodorant. 

You kind of wanted to drown in it, but you held yourself afloat anyway. He wasn’t yours, you weren’t his. The two of you weren’t like that.

“Had a hard day at work,” you mumbled, a little more tired now than you’d been just moments ago. His presence did that to you, calmed you down when you didn’t even know you were high to begin with. 

He lowered your shoulder a bit which made it more comfortable for you to rest your head on it. “You could have said no, you know that, right?”

But you had wanted to see him once you had seen his message. “I know.”

“Good,” he answered, as if it was as simple as that and remained quiet after that. 

You tried to turn your focus back to the movie, you really did, but before you knew it your eyelids were drooping again. 

Then you were woken up again, this time by Jack. 

The movie must have finished in the meantime because he had moved his arm, closing your laptop. You rubbed your eyes tiredly, trying to form a coherent thought but the only thing on your mind was the warmth of him next to you, the dream that just barely slipped out of your grasp. 

“Sorry,” you said.

He turned to you, surprised. “What for? If anything I should apologise, I kept watching even when you were tired.”

“You know I don't mind that,” you said. “I just wasn’t very good company today. Sorry.”

Jack knocked his shoulder against you with a little more purpose so you  turned to him. “Nope, none of that. I don’t mind, I got to see you, which is all I wanted anyway.”

How could he just say something like that? As if words like these didn’t bore themselves under your skin, living there forever, etching themselves into the white of your bones.

This casually, as if it didn’t just make your heart flutter the same way it did when you were eighteen, back when you had loved him. Still, in your barely illuminated room, late at night you let yourself linger. Let yourself pretend that his words held meaning. 

Let yourself pretend that the two of you were different.

You thought about the thousands of times you must have seen him just like this, in the dark, looking back at you. 

It was a weird memory that came to you, just then.

Back when the two of you had first met you had been crushing hard. It wasn’t really surprising, now looking back. You had never really gotten a lot of attention by boys growing up, so when he went out of his way to talk to you, you really had no choice but to fall for him. 

Liking him had become addicting. 

You could still remember the moment you thought he might like you back and the very same moment you knew it wasn’t, probably ever, going to work out between the two of you.

It was at a party, after you had just graduated. You had just come out of the bathroom, alone because your friend was finally, finally talking to the guy she liked. 

Then you picked up a friend’s voice somewhere down the corner, most likely from the kitchen. “C’mon your turn now. Who are you crushing on,” Aaron had said. They must still be playing a weird mixture of truth or dare and some other game you had already forgotten the name of.

Your mind immediately went to Jack, the way his hand had brushed yours when he had gotten you a drink earlier that night. 

“I don't?” Jack answered, slightly laughing, but there was an air of unease in his voice that you couldn’t help but notice. 

“C’mon, Jack don’t be like that,” someone else interjected, and suddenly you were a lot more invested in the conversation than just a moment ago. It was always like that when it was about him. 

“There are always so many girls throwing themselves at you, surely you want one of them,” you could hear the other guy’s jealousy from miles away but you weren’t sure if the others picked up on it too. 

“I’m serious, I barely have time for my friends already, let alone a girlfriend.” Jack said and there was this tiny spark of hope rising in your chest. Maybe you could change that. Maybe you could be the exception. 

“True,” Aaron agreed calmer than usual. You thought he might be noticing the tension waving off of the other guy. 

“There is no shame in admitting it,” the other guy doubled down, “what about that one girl? Short, brunette, on the track and field club.”

Oh god, he was describing your friend, the one you had just left with her crush. “Nah, wait I think she has a boyfriend, but what about her friend, the one that Kevin hangs out with.”

You. Shit, he was talking about you. Did you really want to hear Jack’s response? What if he said he didn’t like you? But what if he did?

“She is my friend too, you know,” Jack said, “but she is pretty, I guess.”

He guesses? That kind of really stung. You knew that there was nothing all that memorable about you, but it’s not like you were ugly. A thousand different insecurities that you thought you had worked through rose to the surface and you didn’t have the strength to push them back down. 

You had to escape, now, without being noticed and without listening to anything more. Still, your ear couldn’t help but pick up on the rest even as you pushed past that guy that sat behind you in math.

“Jack, don’t be like that,” the other guy insisted, “don’t you want to go up to her and just fuck her? I mean her ass-”

Humiliation. For some reason you felt humiliated and violated. You knew about locker room talk, but you had never wanted to be part of it. Tears were beginning to well up in your eyes and suddenly you could feel every single person that had touched any part of you today, suddenly questioning if it really was accidental. 

You had to get out, now. The static in your ear was loud and the bass vibrating through the soles of your feet seemed to turn it up even more. You had run away, texting the friend you came with some kind of bullshit excuse for leaving. 

The asphalt outside on the sidewalk was cold, but you sat down on it anyway. You just wanted to cry. Everything seemed so overwhelming and important all at once and you had no idea how to deal with all of it. 

Soon you were leaving high school for good, your friends were moving all across the country, you were so fucking lonely and the guy you had been crushing on for a better part of a year didn’t even think that you were worthy to look at. 

You drew your legs closer to your body and folded yourself up as much as possible. Growing up seemed scary all of a sudden. There was that one Lorde lyric that said that too, that you couldn’t quite pinpoint.

Suddenly people were streaming out of the house, all at once. You wiped your tears, looking up at what was happening. In the stream of people you couldn’t make out any of your friends.

Then you heard your name being called. It was Kevin, still standing at his door. He held Jack at the others shirt collar, as if he was holding up a particularly unruly cat that had gotten in trouble again. 

Your eyes must not have been red because when you came closer neither boy commented on it. “Get him home,” Kevin said and dumped a heap of Jack right in front of you. 

Jack glared back at where Kevin disappeared back into the house, eyes murderous. You had never really seen him act like that, especially to a friend. But then again how well did you really know him?

A beat of silence. You really wondered what on earth had happened for the party to just end. You shifted your weight on your feet. “Do you have a car?” you asked eventually. 

Jack brushed past you, “yeah. I’ll drive you home, didn’t drink anything.”

You followed him, but on the short walk back to his car neither of you said anything. 

The stereo remained off all the way back to your place. After you had stopped looking at him to try and figure out what had him in this bad of a mood, you looked outside. The neighbourhood was so familiar, and the horribly sad feeling from earlier came up again. 

You really needed some kind of distraction. “Thank you for driving me home.”

For a second he remained quiet and you really thought you were going to be ignored. He had always had a bit of a dramatic streak at times. “Of course.”

His expression remained scarily blank. “Can I ask what happened with Kevin?”

“Nothing,” he said, his gaze staring firmly ahead. Then, “I don’t like his friends.”

What kind of response was that? “Okay,” you tried, carefully, “then why did you come?”

“I didn’t know I didn’t like them before tonight,” he said. 

Then you looked at the way his hands were gripping the wheel, specifically at his knuckles. Wait- “did you punch one of them?”

He laughed, and the sound bounced off the small enclosure and some kind of happy feeling made your heart swell, even though you had been apprehensive about him just moments ago.

It was a lot longer than your comment had warranted. You really were a bit concerned about him. Should he be driving if he acted like this? “I might have.”

Before you could ask why, because you had never seen him actually punch anyone, he continued, “in my defense, he started it.”

“That’s a shitty defense,” you said, “that just means you have to be the one to take a step back first.”

He only shook his head in response but you were happy he was back to acting like that Jack you knew. “You would have punched him too, I just know it.”

“Sure,” you replied. You had never punched a person because you didn’t like them and you didn’t think you’d start anytime soon. 

“Trust me, you would have,” he said and left it at that. 

The two of you arrived at your place soon after, so you thanked him and left. 

The rest of the summer between highschool and college was spent getting over him, which you eventually succeeded at when he introduced his now ex-girlfriend to you and your friends. 

In college you went out on a few dates, but none of them ended up going anywhere. That was fine to you, because it just meant that you were prioritising other things now, like your studies and your friends. 

There wasn’t even anything all that similar between that memory and your current situation, but you drew the comparison anyway. His jaw was more refined now, his hair longer and his eyes seemed different now, a bit more mature maybe. Or maybe just a bit more tired. 

“What are you thinking about?” he asked. 

It must have been a bit strange, you just looking at him. “You,” you replied honestly. “Do you remember that one party, way back, after high school where you punched someone?”

He groaned and leaned his head back against the wall, his throat exposed. Your gaze lingered there for a bit before returning to his face. Some kind of feeling almost bubbled to the surface at the sound and the matching sight.

“I do.”

“I never actually figured why you did that.” When his gaze remained firmly on your ceiling, you continued, “I feel like now enough time has passed for you to admit why.”

He smiled a bit. “There was this other guy, right? The one I punched, I mean.”

You nodded. 

“He was being a real dick about one of my friends, and when he didn’t stop talking about her I just kinda wanted him to shut up. Moved before thinking about it.”

“Asshole,” you commented, not about Jack. 

“Right?” he turned his head so that he looked back down to you, “after that one punch I came back to myself but before I knew it Kevin had dragged me out by my collar, shouting that everyone had to go.”

“He must have wanted to avoid a full on fight,” you said. 

“For sure, can’t even blame him.” With a mischievous gleam in his eyes he said, “but it felt really good to finally shut him up.”

You laughed, thinking that the entire situation was a lot more dramatic than it really had any reason to be. The laugh turned to a yawn by the end. 

“I should leave,” he said but you had the weird urge to ask him to stay. 

“Sorry, I’m a lot more tired than I thought,” you said instead.

“Don’t apologise for that,” he said, getting up. He ended up offering you a hand to help you get up as well even though you really didn't need it. You took it anyway. 

He picked up the bag that he had left at the door, opened it and turned to you. “I had fun.”

You smiled, “me too.”

“Good,” he offered you a smile in return. You saw his hand reach out and stop for just a second, but before you could ask him about it, he held it against your temple and leaned down to give you a kiss on your forehead. He lingered in your orbit for a bit longer than the duration of the kiss, just hovering above you. 

“See you soon,” he said, waving, and you replied the same. Then you closed your door and locked it. 

You didn’t need to hold your hand against your cheek to feel it burn. What was that? He had never done that before. He had never done anything like that before, ever.

You stumbled to your bathroom, and went through the motions of brushing your teeth and going on the toilet. When you finally crawled under your sheets, you let yourself sink down into them. 

Still, you were too tired to properly dissect the entire interaction so instead you closed your eyes. You drifted to sleep, your mind focusing on the tips of his ears that had seemed a bit flushed when he closed the door behind himself. 

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[songmingisthighs]

Wanbelyn

introduction pt. i | pt. ii | pt. iii

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ch. lxxiii - nAWt

neurosurgeon!hongjoong × reader

buy me coffee ?

genre : dad!au

rating : mature; crude jokes and filthy language

warning : medical situation

wc : 1.6 k

where love and peace is held, i never expected for this to happen. i planned and i planned, i expected, and i hoped, but it was never you. you held what i wanted hostage to make room for you, the thing that i needed but has no means of acceptance. deny me, live your best life.

"Thank God you're here, go- go there! I'm trying to get ahold of (y/n)'s cousin!" Wooyoung hissed frantically as he rushed to the nurse's station.

The first thing Hongjoong noticed was chaos, in one section of the ER. Usually, as bad as 'the emergency room' sounded, there wouldn't be this much commotion so it caused him dread when saw people rushing accompanied by the sounds of his son crying and his nanny trying to calm him down. It not a good sign when patients screaned loudly to no end and it was never a good sign when healthcare providers act frantically.

His legs took him immediately to his son's bed where the little boy was thrashing against the doctor and nurses who were trying to examine him but failing as they didn't want to hurt him accidentally. "Kijoong!" He called out, rushing to his son's side who upon noticing him, wailed louder and tried climbing onto his dad. "God, what happened?" Hongjoong asked the ER doctor who sighed, "The boy fell and we're trying our best to see if there's anything wrong with him but he's being difficult. As you can see, he had a couple of scratches and bumps due to the impact but since he fell off of the elevator, we wanted to make sure," he said. Hongjoong's eyes widened at the revelation and his heart dropped to his stomach, "What the hell did you mean he fell off the elevator?" Kijoong, who was already calming down slightly from his dad's presence, got pulled back slightly so Hongjoong could examine his condition only to see that he didn't look bad at all considering the description of what happened, "H-how did he fall? Where's-"

Hongjoong's words were cut off by the sound of the curtain being pulled back to reveal your form, looking like you had gone through hell and being held back by the nurses who wanted you to remain still. "That's not what happened," you stated, shifting your gaze from Hongjoong to glare at the doctor, "You're making it seem like he was running amok all by himself so let me tell you what actually happened." The nurses tried to get you to lean back but you shrugged them off and even tried to sit up but the pained look on your face as your body started to fold proved you had rather major injuries.

The way you winced caused Hongjoong to let go of Kijoong, knowing that he had to make sure that you were alright much to Kijoong's disappointment and he let it show by screaming for his dad. Hongjoong told him that he'd be right back soon but Kijoong kept wailing, watching as his dad started to conduct a neurological examination on you. "Fuck, what the hell happened, (y/n)? W-why-" he was trying his best to see your pupillary reaction but you kept trying to push him off, "You go tend to your son, Hongjoong, please, I'm fine!" And that ticked Hongjoong off, "Fine? Fine!? Look at you!" his eyes started to water when he looked you over. You had a small bandage over the corner of your left forehead, nasty long and deep scratches on the side of your left arm that looked red, inflamed, and still slightly bleeding, and the left side of your pants that was rolled to your knees, revealing friction burns and bruises added with two broken fingernails. "You looked like you just fought a fucking bear, (y/n), this is- you're not okay! You need my help!" he scolded, shutting you up momentarily and the sternness of his voice caused Kijoong's wails to momentarily stop. "What happened?" Hongjoong asked, this time slightly softer.

After a moment and with a deep breath, you told him. "Kijoong ran past me after his session with Mingi, I didn't even get to ask Mingi about the assessment because I knew I had to get him and I did. I got Kijoong but he tried getting away from me," you said, pausing to take a shaky breath as you eyed Kijoong, "He was trying so hard to get away from me and all I could think about was getting him away from the escalator but then he pushed me and lost his footing." Hongjoong subconsciously settled to sit by your side on your bed which seemed to trigger something in Kijoong as he began to call for his dad, calls that fell on deaf ears as Hongjong was too focused on listening to what happened to you and his son while his brain was trying to assess the possibilities of internal injuries in you and his son. "So I did what I could think of first and dove right with him, I grabbed him and try to shield him from the impact, I'm sorry," you hiccupped, getting emotional as you felt guilty for letting Kijoong get hurt. Hearing you say that, Hongjoong chuckled tearily and grabbed your face in his hands gently, "Sorry?" he smiled, "You saved his head from cracking open like coconut, (y/n), you did what you thought you had to and you did it so well," he said, really grateful for you and your actions. Your shoulders slumped in relief over realizing that he wasn't mad at you nor did he blame you for the incident.

Meanwhile, seeing you two in such a state, Kijoong grew even more agitated and had even tried to claw the nurses and doctor off fo him, He wanted to jump in between you and Hongjoong and he wanted to do it right then, no more delays, In his childish mind, he there was nothing more important and no other situation is as important as this one. In his childish mind, he had to do something for his dad who had done so much for him. But being held back like this was preventing him from doing anything about it, from doing what he wanted. And no matter how much or how loud he shouted, no one was taking him seriously and it was infuriating, it was frustrating.

And then it happened.

Within a split second, Kijoong's eyes rolled back into his head and his body tensed, his jaw slackened and his fingers curled into tight fists. The voice that wailed loudly suddenly stopped which caught the attention of Hongjoong but by the time he got a good look at Kijoong, Kijoong was already spasming on his bed.

It was then that another hell broke loose.

Hongjoong let go of you almost instantly and rushed to Kijoong's side, not that you could blame him. In fact, at that moment, you suddenly didn't care about anything else, not even about yourself or your injuries as you ripped your IV off and rushed to Kijoong's other side. Though they could have helped, you shooed the doctor and nurses away, getting to immediate work of putting Kijoong in the position he should be in as he rode out his episode.

"Why? Why is it back now- he was doing just fine," you muttered to yourself. Somehow, in this situation, you were able to assume your role well as the caretaker while Hongjoong was doing his part as the concerned parent but still trying his best to keep his composure calm. Or, well, as calm as he could because what kind of a parent would just be okay seeing their child in such a medical situation.

It took a while but Kijoong finally came to. His body stopped spasming and his eyes rolled back to their normal positioning, his muscles relaxed and he began testing his vocal skills again. "Dad, daddy," he called, whimpering with tears slowly brimming in his eyes. "Hey, bud," Hongjoong smiled leaning in to hug his son gently, "I was so worried seeing you like that, are you okay? How are you feeling?" Although his dad was talking to him, he couldn't help but block his voice and focus on seeing you, Or, more specifically, your hand that was resting on Hongjoong's shoulder.

The next moment shocked everyone as Kijoong jumped up and pushed your body away with such strength that it made you stumble back, hitting the nearby tray which caused you to wince when your injured side got the brunt. "GET OFF MY DADDY!" he yelled loudly, his face growing red and although you were already at a considerably further distance, Kijoong was advancing on you like an animal before Hongjoong got a grip on him. "Kim Kijoong, what is the matter with you? You don't talk to an adult like that, you don't talk to (y/n) like that!" he scolded which didn't bode well for him as Kijoong began thrashing in his grip, screaming for you to leave his dad alone and for you to go away at the top of his lungs. His screams echoed through the area and the next and it frightened you- no. It broke your heart to hear him saying that he didn't want you around, telling you to leave. The usually sweet boy had turned on you and you didn't know what you did.

Despite your injuries having yet to be properly checked, you stumbled back and staggered out of the ER, as if listening to Kijoong's instruction.

"Hey, hey, hey, where are you going?" Wooyoung called, slamming the nurse's station phone to end his call before rushing to you, "Excuse me, miss, your cousin is coming so you need to keep your ass- hey!" you didn't listen to him, maybe you couldn't but who cared? You simply walked out, leaving Wooyoung worriedly following you but not before he stopped in Hongjoong's line of sight, mouthing 'what the hell?' but not waiting for a reply.

As much as he hated to admit it, Hongjoong didn't know what happened or what was going on and it was worrisome. It felt like a subtle afternoon breeze had crumbled his concrete castle down and there was nothing he could do to salvage anything. Worse of all, it felt like he had managed to hurt you all over again but this time, he couldn't go to you.

Fantastic.

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[penkura]

last forever [8/13]

Summary: Zoro only offered to marry you to keep you out of an arranged marriage with a man much older than you. You agreed with the caveat of ending it via annulment once you received word from your parents regarding the original engagement, despite your growing feelings for your close friend.

Pairing: Zoro x Fem!reader, mentioned Sanami later (like epilogue later so chill)

Warnings: Marriage of Convenience, Fake Marriage, referenced sex (waaaaaay later on), mutual pining, Zoro is bad at feelings but what's new there, eventual romance I promise, mention of past attempted assault (I'll warn in that chapter), creepy older dude later on

Note: This is my personal favorite chapter I've written. That's all I have to say lol.

Taglist:

@misfits1a

[Ch. 1] ● [Ch. 2] ● [Ch. 3] ● [Ch. 4] ● [Ch. 5] ● [Ch. 6] ● [Ch. 7]

“Hey, Sanji. Do me a favor.”

Sanji's nearly unconscious as Zoro speaks to him, his favor loud and clear before the blond passes out, leaving the swordsman to face Bartholomew Kuma alone.

You thought Zoro was going to die, you had convinced yourself he wasn't going to wake up. You'd stayed by his side, praying, ever since Sanji and Chopper brought Zoro back into Moria's mansion to treat his wounds and let him rest. Sanji won't tell you a word of what happened, no matter how much you beg him to.

“Mosshe– Zoro wouldn't want you to know. I doubt he wants anyone to know. Least of all you and Luffy.”

Whatever Sanji meant, you don't know, and right now you don't even care about what had Zoro knocked out the last little while.

Finally he was awake, it felt longer than it really was, three (agonizing) days, he had freakish healing like Luffy did, of course. But seeing he's awake, you can't help it, you throw yourself at him saying his name over and over like a mantra as you cry. Of course it freaks him out a bit, once he bites back a heavy groan from the pain you've just inflicted on him with your tight hug, it takes Zoro a moment to register you hugging him before he's able to do anything about it.

And he returns your hug slightly. Loosely wrapping his arms around you, one around your shoulders, the other barely touching your waist, an attempt at comforting you while you cry.

Damn it, he's tried so hard to push your feelings away, get you to stop looking at him like he was your world, but now Zoro realizes he's only stoked the flames by doing so, only made your feelings stronger without meaning to.

But, maybe he doesn't mind. He'd seek you out each morning, mostly asking if you'd gotten anything from your parents about your little sham marriage, but he'd also ask you to train with him if you weren't busy, and even be the one to go into town with you whenever the Sunny docked for a day or two. You never asked, you just knew he was coming with you so you waited for him, waited until he was by your side and then you'd smile and lead Zoro into the town to shop for whatever your heart desired (and your wallet could afford). In the time he'd started doing that, Zoro noticed different things about you.

The way you laughed with store clerks as they told you about an item you were looking at, your eyes would sparkle with every new find, how you'd hold onto his wrist to make sure he didn't get lost, you staying beside him when he'd nap on Sunny, you making sure he had enough water during his workouts.

How you'll help anyone on the ship with anything they need. You'll bring Nami the supplies she needs to make maps, help Usopp and Luffy fish for dinner, wash the dishes after dinner despite Sanji telling you he'd do it. You've been learning from Chopper how to treat wounds, you'll sit with Robin and listen to her tell you about history, you've even started helping Franky with his projects and helping to perform maintenance on Sunny if needed.

Then with him. With Zoro you're content to sit quietly while he naps, or watch him while he trains, never expecting a conversation. You willingly bring him whatever he needs, whether it's water or sake, you fix his shirts if they get torn, you even stay up when he has night watch and share drinks with him. He never thought someone would want to spend all their time with him or that he'd accept someone being so close to him, what had changed that made him actually want company during times he'd normally want to rest and be alone?

You. Damn, it was you.

You whose inner demons would infiltrate your dreams, causing you to slip into his bed for comfort, stability, as he slept soundly which gave you peace to do the same, a silent promise after the first time of yes, I’ll keep you safe. You who he had saved from drowning more times than Luffy and Chopper combined. You who made him feel like he was on fire with the slightest touch, even a brush of your fingers against his at dinner. You who had stitched him up multiple times, the first one turning into a jagged scar that if asked he'd say was his favorite. You who cared enough to stay sober in bars to drag him back to the hotel or the ship when you knew he needed to stop and rest.

You who would tell him every detail about the books you were reading, the ones you'd purchased or borrowed from Robin. The one time you told him the main love interest of a romance novel reminded you of him, making his face burn red out of embarrassment before he told you not to say such things, especially in front of the others (mostly Sanji).

Even after telling you in Alabasta that nothing was going to happen, you two weren't going to become a couple, he wasn't here to play romance with you or anyone else. Even after all that, you still stuck to his side almost like glue and didn't let it change anything.

Even with your argument after Robin joined, nothing much changed between the two of you. If anything, Zoro felt more drawn to you than anything or anyone else. He wanted to spend more time with just you and him. What a change from just a few months ago, he just realized.

Even once you kissed him and he returned it in Water Seven, you attempted to apologize soon after, before he stopped you. There had been nothing to apologize for, not from you anyway. If he'd thought about it at the time, Zoro would have apologized for not giving you a proper response then. For making you go to bed alone that night.

Damn it all.

What has happened to him? Ever since your sham marriage began something has been creeping into his mind every time he looks at you and remembers "Oh yeah I'm married to her" that makes him want to pull you away from everyone and damn it, he wants to kiss you again. There's another feeling of wanting, needing to protect you, despite how strong you are in your own right. Everything about this is weird, yet somehow comforting as well. Who put this spell on him, who made him have feelings like this? Are you secretly a witch on top of a swordswoman?

"Zoro…?"

Zoro breaks out of his thoughts when you speak his name again, this time as a question, your voice shaking as you hold him tighter, trying your best not to hurt him again.

"I…” your voice shakes again, and you hide your face in the crook of his neck, briefly wondering if this was the smart thing to do, before the words fall out of your mouth, “I love you…"

He pulls you closer, just a bit, your whispered confession only loud enough for him to hear. He doesn't have a response, not right now, but you're fine with that. You'd accepted long ago he may never love you back, but you had to tell him. He had to know.

After nearly losing him, you had to get these feelings out.

So when he ever so quietly thanks you, pressing the softest kiss to your temple, it makes you cry even more. You feel there's a chance, however small it may be, that Roronoa Zoro may come to have feelings for you one day.

Chopper returns a moment later, not wanting to pull you two apart, but he's so happy to see Zoro's alive and awake that even he cries a little, before checking the swordsman's wounds as you release yourself from him, Zoro allowing you to continue holding his hand for comfort.

Not only for you, but for him as well.

“I probably won't make it out of this…so take care of her for me, got it?”

+!+

"I told Zoro I love him."

It becomes so quiet you can hear a pin drop after that. Nami had asked why you were so spaced out that day, she and Robin now both so surprised at your confession. Nami's jaw drops and Robin has a small smile, before they look at each other with one thought in mind.

Impromptu girl's night.

"I'm getting extra blankets and pillows!"

"I'll ask Sanji for some wine and snacks."

Once everything is together and all the pillows and blankets are spread on the floor, you have glasses of wine and small snacks, Nami demands to hear every detail and you tell her and Robin everything about your love confession.

"He…he thanked me and kissed me–"

"On the lips again?!"

You laugh and shake your head, taking a small sip of your wine. "No, just on my temple this time."

Nami squeaks a bit, Robin laughing lightly at her reaction and the longing look on your face. As soon as she joined she'd seen the love you held for Zoro on your face, anytime you spoke of him or someone else did, your eyes would light up and your cheeks would burn pink.

You were deeply in love with him, even though he showed no romantic feelings for you. Robin had given you a romance novel once specifically due to the fact the love interest even reminded her of Zoro, which you quickly agreed with and finished the book in nearly three days which surprised her.

Nami, knowing you and Zoro were married, wanted you two together from the start. Every time you told her something that made you fall more and more in love with him, she'd giggle alongside you which always got a strange look from Usopp and Luffy, who thought you were both insane. She'd push you two together so often, that when Zoro started following you off the ship she thought it was a good sign, since she didn't have to bribe him with reducing his debt or anything. He just went on his own.

"That's such a great sign!" Nami throws her arms around you in a hug, making you laugh while Robin nods. "He's starting to fall for you! Finally!"

"I wouldn't go that far, Nami."

"I would! After all these months, you guys could be a real couple!"

"Nami, let's calm down a bit," Robin smiles and puts a hand on your shoulder, "She and Zoro will need to talk things out eventually, but let's see if anything changes since she's confessed her love to him."

Sighing loudly, Nami nods but still holds onto you, seeing a strange look on your face. She's not sure if it's one of concern or what, but it makes her hug you a little tighter.

"I'm sure he loves you, maybe deep down right now, but, he's gonna tell you one day."

You smile a bit with a slight nod, hugging Nami back. You believe her, you really do. Even if it takes a while for Zoro to say anything back to you, it doesn't matter. You'll wait as long as it takes and not give up.

For Zoro, you'll wait a lifetime.

+!+

You're crawling into Zoro's bed a few nights later. Your nightmares had turned from your neglectful parents to losing him at Thriller Bark, waking you with tears and sobs that Robin tried to help you through, calming you down enough for you to tell her you were going to slip into his bed like you'd done every time before. She simply nodded and let you go, promising to tell Nami nothing about it, you didn't want her worrying.

Zoro's fast asleep, as always, as you quietly sneak into the boy's bunks and step over Luffy who had fallen out of his hammock. You hear him mumble something about meat in his sleep while Usopp snores and Chopper sleeps happily beside him, but you pay no mind to it. You feel lucky Franky's in his workshop, Sanji's still busy in the kitchen, and Brook is out on the deck playing his violin. None of them should cause you any problems this time, but does it matter if they do?

Your thoughts are entirely on Zoro and making sure he's okay. He's still injured, but you have to be certain nothing is wrong.

You quickly and quietly slip into his hammock once you reach it, wrapping your arms around him and burying your face in his back, hearing a slight groan from him due to his wounds still not being fully healed. You feel bad waking him, even as he turns around and throws one of his arms over you, looking at you as if asking what was wrong, even though he thought he knew. It's been a while since you've last done this, your nightmare must have been particularly awful for you to return to this habit he'd thought you'd stopped.

"You okay?" His brows are furrowed while he wipes a few of your tears away. He's never seen you this upset after a nightmare before.

You try to speak but all that comes out is a whimper and a quiet sob, making you grip his shirt tighter as you shake your head. You can't tell him, you can't get the words out that it was a nightmare about him dying after he’s told you numerous times he wasn’t dying until he became the world’s greatest swordsman. He came so close to death at Thriller Bark that you were just terrified deep down about it becoming reality.

Instead of inquiring further, Zoro just nods, pulling you closer in an effort to calm you down.

"You're safe here. Nothing's gonna get you while I'm around."

You feel the quickest of kisses on your forehead before Zoro tucks your head under his chin, closing his eyes to sleep again, and it's all so strange to you. You've not had time to sit and talk since you told him you love him, but he's treated you slightly differently lately. Still going into town with you, training with you, but now sitting beside you at every meal which pissed off Sanji at times, purposefully leaning against you while he napped as you read a book.

He let you hold his hand the other day in town, even stopping at a small café with you for lunch and refusing to let you pay for your own meal despite his own money problems.

Zoro may not be in love with you yet, but you can tell he definitely cares for you in how he treats you. He saw through your façade of acting like all was well while you were still nursing the pain from your parents treating you like property and trying to sell you off to someone nearly twice your age just for money, the pain your brother tried his hardest to lighten before he helped you run away. He'd noticed from the moment he met you that there was something you were keeping from him and when he got it out of you one night, he said he'd keep you from having to go back. That was why he married you, you had more to give and do than be someone's third bride, he'd help you achieve it himself.

"Thank you, Zoro."

He's still awake, but once you finally fall asleep, he opens his eyes and watches you, finally peaceful. He feels bad he doesn't have a true response to you yet, he’s still working things out in his own mind and heart. Telling you once before that he held no romantic feelings for you, but now realizing that his thoughts have changed, it’s hard to work through that without letting anyone know. He doesn't want to get your hopes up just to tell you he doesn't feel the same in the end.

But, Zoro thinks that maybe, maybe staying married to you won't be so bad. Maybe, once he works out his feelings, he'll try to properly court you, give you a relationship you deserve, he'll protect you from anything and anyone else.

And then, one day, you could revisit this being a married couple thing, maybe actually live as husband and wife.

+!+

There's a slight bit of teasing the next morning from Franky. He'd finally gone to bed at one point and was surprised you had snuck into Zoro's hammock, the swordsman having an arm around you as you both slept. Granted he's seen how close you two are, especially after the fiasco of Thriller Bark, but didn't think you were that close.

He's also surprised by none of the others, apart from Brook, saying anything about it either. Was this normal for the two of you, to share a bed like that? If it was, why didn't Zoro just join you in the women's bunks? Surely your bed was more comfortable than his hammock.

Your face feels like it’s burning all through breakfast, the same as when Sanji first caught you in Zoro's hammock and made a fuss about it. Zoro just sets a glare at Franky anytime he says something about you two getting cozy with a grin that tells him your shipwright is getting the wrong idea. You two hadn't done anything, you slept like the other times, there's no reason for this teasing.

Zoro eventually has enough and slams his hand on the table, frightening most of your crewmates, standing up and continuing to glare at Franky.

"Would you just shut up about it? She had a nightmare and came to me for help, that's all. Come on, let's go."

Luckily you're done with breakfast when Zoro tells you to go with him, nodding and doing so as you hear Sanji and Nami reprimand Franky, who's now wondering why Zoro, of all people, got so angry about a little bit of teasing.

"I don't get what the big deal is," Franky leans back in his seat, ignoring how Nami is still looking like she's going to smack him, "So what if they're together? Not like it's against the rules or anything."

"Except they aren't together." Sanji responds before Nami can, and all it does is make Franky question the situation even more. He's trying to diffuse the situation, making sure your arrangement with Zoro doesn't get out before you either annul or Zoro decides to stay with you.

Luffy nods, before saying "They're married though, but don't tell anyone else!"

"Luffy!!" Nami doesn't even wait to smack him over the head, making your captain whine and ask what that was for. "That's not our secret to tell!"

"Well they're gonna get an annulment thingy anyway, so why does it matter??"

"Wait what, what the hell?"

“I didn't know Zoro and [Y/N] were married!” Chopper sounds beyond excited, while Brook laughs.

“Yohoho, what a surprise!”

Franky and Brook try to question Luffy and Nami about the whole thing, while Robin smiles to herself.

She's heard you and Sanji talking about your marriage to Zoro every now and then, and knew most of the details already, but knowing your feelings for him, she’s sure it’s only a matter of time before you two actually became a couple.

Though, she’s also fairly certain that if you heard your marriage had been revealed, you'd crawl in a hole and die while Zoro would seriously consider throwing Luffy overboard, before saving him in the end.

+!+

"I don't think Franky was trying to be rude about it."

"He was being obnoxious is the point, [Y/N]."

Nodding in agreement, you keep your eyes on your book once Zoro comes back from showering after his morning workout. He'd gone straight to the crow's nest after leaving the kitchen, you running to get a book and joining him once you'd picked one out. You've been sitting there ever since, having small conversations with Zoro while he worked out, eventually leaving long enough to take a shower before coming back to you in the same spot. He didn't want to talk about the morning's events anymore, but you felt like you had to say something no matter how obnoxious Franky was about the whole situation.

Zoro sits beside you, and you barely glance over a few times, wondering if now was a good time to talk about your confession and what's next for the two of you, before he speaks first.

"Anything from your parents?"

Ah yes, that makes sense. He hasn't asked yet today, that's what was missing from this day.

Shaking your head, you close your book and lean back to stare up at the ceiling. "Not a word. Makes me think they forgot they had a daughter."

"We're three days out from having to divorce, right? So there's probably no chance of them responding in time."

You're not sure if you hear annoyance or concern in Zoro's voice, but again you nod.

You don't know how to voice that you don't want to annul or divorce, that your confession to him after he woke up at Thriller Bark wasn't a heat of the moment thing or simply crewmate concern. You really are in love with him, that was a fact you've come to know over the last few months but were only able to voice recently.

Why do feelings have to be so complicated?

"You meant what you said, after I woke up?"

He's very quiet, you almost miss him speaking, but your breath catches in your throat, and its all you can do to just nod, a small 'yes' coming out of your mouth.

Zoro's not at all surprised as he nods, trying to plan his next words carefully. He's not ready to say the same love confession to you, but he might be willing to try. Try a relationship with you and keep you safe, whether your parents ever reply to you or not. He's willing to give the two of you a shot.

It's strange, how just six months ago you were in tears to him about the arranged marriage and he quickly offered to marry you and keep you from going home, from leaving him. At first, he tried to convince himself it was because you were useful, you worked well with him when taking down bounty targets. You knew how to use a sword and could perform recon work on your targets, all of that was more than what he needed in a bounty hunting partner, when he'd never thought of having one before. Not until he met you in that dinky little bar when you were running away from home, nearly passing out when you ran into him because you'd had a fever and he kept you from hitting the ground. He lost a couple days of work taking care of you, a complete and total stranger, that you were so grateful to him you offered to help and he only let you do so after you sparred with him. You lost obviously, but Zoro was impressed enough to let you follow him if you wanted to.

The year and a half you had traveled and worked together was enough, he knew it when he told you he'd marry you. You didn't know it, still don't to this day, and Zoro would likely take the truth to the grave with him, but at this point he knew it.

He knew he had feelings for you, it was just telling you. That's the difficult part right now.

You'd said your side of it, Zoro just needed the right place and time to return your words.

"I want–"

There's shouting from down on the deck that snaps you both out of your little world you're in, and you sit up to look out the window, seeing what looked like a large fish tail and Sanji freaking out over something. You wonder what's going on, before looking at Zoro, who looks less than thrilled you two were interrupted.

"Something's going on! Let's go see!"

He doesn't fight or grumble while you grab his wrist and pull him up, there's nothing he can do about it now.

Maybe tomorrow I guess.

+!+

“What’s with the bird?”

You don’t even have the chance to untie the letter from your parents before Zoro asks, you just smile before petting your family’s carrier bird on her head, giving her a few scratches as she perches on your shoulder.

“My parents are wealthy, so they have their own carrier birds. We’ve had Chisa here since I was little, she brings me mail and letters all over, wherever I am she’ll find me.”

“Seriously? All of that just to flex their cash?” Zoro rolls his eyes when you nod with a small giggle, opening the latest letter you’d been sent by your parents.

Every one so far had been a demand to return home and “fulfill your duty” of marrying the man they’d chosen for you. It was ridiculous, you’ve let Zoro see a few of them, even though every letter says the exact same thing. The only one that had been different was a letter exclusively from Elias, telling you about his marriage because he knew you’d be happy for him.

You start to follow after Zoro as he attempts to lead you back to the town you’re staying at, not even sure why you’re reading the letter that’s most likely just their demands for you to come back, until you catch a new line in the letter that makes you stop in your tracks.

The second he hears your breathing pick up, Zoro stops and looks over his shoulder at you, eyes widening just a bit when he sees your shoulders shaking and it almost seems like you’re about to have a panic attack.

“Hey, hey, calm down,” he’s almost instantly in front of you with his hands on your shoulders, Zoro knows he isn’t good at this stuff, but he’s got to get you to calm down, “What’s wrong? What’s in the letter?”

“I…I’m eighteen.”

“Yeah…? So what about—”

“Shit, shit, they’re gonna,” Zoro can barely keep you from hitting the ground while you crouch down, still holding the letter but putting your hands on your head to try and calm yourself down, “They’re gonna find me and force me to marry him.”

Zoro takes the letter from you while you start crying over your fears of being forced back home, reading the letter himself to see there’s some caveat in the agreement between your parents and alleged fiancé, where you’d be legally married soon after turning eighteen whether you had a wedding or not. Scowling, Zoro starts to rip to letter up, watching you fist your hair and close your eyes tight. Whatever you went through while dealing with this arranged marriage situation, it’s left a bad impression on you, he’d be surprised if you ever chose to get married one day because of it.

After a few minutes, Zoro helps you back up, holding your shoulders again, before trying to speak to you.

“What—"

“I can’t go back, I can’t!” Finally looking up at him again, you’re still in tears and griping his shirt so tightly, almost desperate for some way out of this arrangement, some way to keep from being found and dragged back there. “I won’t go back, Zoro, please, help me!! I can’t marry that man!”

What is he supposed to do? There’s very little chance your parents haven’t sent people out to find you, or sent your name and picture across government facilities that honor small village traditions, no matter how dark or outdated they may be. He doesn’t know what to do, this is so foreign to him! How is he supposed to keep you from marrying someone?

“I’ll marry you then.”

“W-What??” This isn’t what you expected for help, not even in the slightest. You don’t even think Zoro knew he was going to say that, or planned to, it seems like it just came out with no rhyme or reason.

But, it would fix the problem. If you married someone else, your parents couldn’t rightfully force you to marry someone else, whether they had chosen the person or not.

“I…” You shake your head, not wanting Zoro to feel like he has to do something, it’s not his job. All you’ve done is follow him the last year and a half, he’s not supposed to be your protector or anything like that, just a friend that let you go with him so you didn’t have to go back home, back to what you’ve fled. “We can’t! I mean, we aren’t—"

“If I marry you, will that keep them from forcing you home?!”

“I…I think so?”

Nodding, Zoro takes your hand off his shirt, watching you for any signs of rejection or if you want to say anything else. There’s something in his eyes, you don’t know what it is, you probably never will. But he holds your hand so tightly, keeping you from pulling away before he says it again.

“Marry me, [Y/N].”

For a moment, you don’t respond, wondering if Zoro’s screwing with you or not. But that’s not like him. You’ve only known him for about eighteen months, but you know that he would never joke around about something like this. He might be a little closed off still, but he would never play with someone’s feelings this way.

After another minute or so, you nod.

“I’ll marry you, Zoro.”

+!+

You’ve not thought about how Zoro offered to marry you in quite a while, the memory waking you up from a dead sleep in the village you’ve been in the last eighteen months. After receiving Luffy’s message about when to meet your crew again, you ended up staying in a village that excelled in training swordswomen, working your hardest every day and improving to the point very few of the other women even tried to spar with you.

Now I can’t sleep.

Sighing, you get up from your bed and go to the balcony in your little apartment you’ve been granted use of. Remembering the proposal that’s put you in this situation still, where you’ve been legally married for two years, have told Zoro--who was supposed to be your temporary husband--that you’re in love with him, and it seems like he might be starting to feel something similar towards you. It’s still all so strange, but it makes you smile while you watch the stars for a few minutes, silent prayers for your crew’s continued safety, and hopes that you and Zoro can make things work out.

“Happy anniversary, Zoro.”

+!+

You’ll be surprised to hear, one day in the future, that Zoro had the same dream about his impromptu proposal around the same time you did. He even realizes that it would’ve been your second anniversary at the time, give or take a few days, Mihawk doesn’t have a calendar or bother to keep him and the ghost girl up to date on what’s going on outside the island.

The dream isn’t enough to wake him the way it does you, but it does linger in his mind the rest of the day, even as he trains. It gets to the point that Mihawk stops him, asking what on earth could be distracting the twenty-one-year-old so badly that he’s making beginner’s mistakes, and Zoro decides to tell him, just to get it out there. Maybe that will help him clear his mind.

“Just… thinking about my wife.”

This earns a raised brow from Mihawk and a shout from Perona.

“A wife?”

“You’re married and never told us?!”

“You aren’t my crew!”

Perona sticks her tongue out at him, demanding answers about you and your marriage, questions Zoro refused to answer right now, before Mihawk interrupts them.

“I care not that you’re married. You can think about your wife later, focus on training now.”

Though Zoro knows Mihawk is right, he should be focusing on his training, thoughts of you and your strange marriage don’t leave his mind, despite his nodding.

“Right.”

I’ll talk to you soon then…[Y/N].

#zoro x reader #roranoa zoro x reader #one piece x reader #reader insert #last forever #fem!reader

[madelynraemunson]

CALL ME WHAT YOU WANT 𓆩♡𓆪

(strip club owner!eddie x fem!exotic dancer!hargrove!x reader)

𝐌𝐎𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐍 𝐀𝐔 18+ minors LOOK THE OTHER WAY

Ch 007: Buckle Up, Baby

A night in the town with Eddie takes a spicy turn when an outfit on display catches your eyes. And what do ya know? It’s your exact measurement…

* = somewhat smut

** = smut

↳ chapters: 001, 002*, 003** , 004**, 005 , 006 , 007* , 008**, 009, 010, 011, 012* , 013**, 014**, 015, 016**, 017, 018, 019, 020*

word count: 3.5k words

disclaimers & warnings — dialogue heavy, arguing, trauma dumping again, angst, yearning, shy girl yelling at eddie (as she should), sexual tension, grinding, thigh riding, car canoodling 🫣

“She’s a black magic woman, she’s trying to make a devil out of me.”

♡

Spellbinding is the best word you can think of to describe Nocturna, a town spookier than Hawkins just 20 minutes inland. It sure lives up to its name, with the average closing time for restaurants, bars, and shops being 3:30 AM.

“This city is so cute,” you beam. “Love the late night vibe it’s got going on.”

“Right?” Eddie agrees. “If Hawkins were a Spencer’s, ‘Turna would be the back of it.”

Eds takes you to El Diablo Bar & Grill where you settle for a ‘TURNA Tossed salad’ and beer. ‘The Eddie Special’ may have left you full, but there’s no way you’d ever pass up free food.

Your boss helps himself to a couple of beers as well, both of them way too hoppy for your liking. And just as you predicted, downing two of those bad boys after smoking a shit ton of weed has its repercussions.

“Eddie, what the fuck are you doing?”

Personal space is a foreign concept for Eddie whenever he’s under the influence. Not like that’s any new information. You just didn’t expect him to be so tender, affectionately fiddling with your hair, using it as a mustache, and then attempting to braid it. You’re surprised because he actually does pretty well.

“Where’d you learn how to braid?” you ask.

“Taught myself,” he replies. “That way if Nancy ever calls out, someone at Hellfire would at least know how to do hair. Luckily I haven’t ran into that problem yet.”

“That’s really thoughtful,” you swoon as Eddie goes to braid your other side.

“I’m also learning how to curl hair,” Eddie adds. “If I could get past burning myself with the iron, that’d be great. Until then, I’ll always vouch for a traditional sock bun.”

You watch has he loops your hair around itself to secure the braid, just as he did the first one. Then comes the unpredictable. Suddenly, you’re taken aback when Eddie gives your hair a tug. Aggressively.

“Eddie!” you cry out.

He spirals into an outrageous belly laugh.

You shove Eddie away from you in a playful form of disgust, his dramatics launching him right out of his seat. Customers start to look your way. You hide your face in embarrassment.

“I think you’ve flown off the handle,” you accuse.

“No,” he denies. “Just comfortable that’s all.”

“Yeah and a bully,” you hiss, undoing your braids out of spite. He knows you’re kidding around.

“What?” Eddie questions, reeling you in via bar stool, smirk growing more and more prominent the closer you get. “You don’t like that I pull hair?”

“That’s enough, you little freak.”

Eddie stops, jokingly wincing at your harsh words. "Thought you were into freaks."

"...Shut up,” is all you can think to say.

"Come on..." he taunts, giving your side a soft pinch. “You know I'm right."

He is right.

You poke his stomach with one of your pointy fingers.

"Okay, and what if I was? Does that get you off? Mr. Know-It-All?”

Eddie clears his throat and squirms in his seat.

"No, actually,” he shakes his head, leaning into your touch. “Cuz that's just not true.”

Your eyes find each other again.

An apology lingers in the air. Eddie bites his lower lip as he stares, closing the gap between you two with a slight turn of his knee. You explore his dark irises, his wide pupils. When fixated on you, they emit what appears to be sorrow, with just a pinch of regret.

"Sometimes I'm wrong. And I fuck up,” he admits. “Whether I like to admit it or not."

Eddie chugs the remainder of his pint before slamming it.

You shrug. “Yeah. Like when you told me to get off my phone today but stayed on yours the entire time.”

Eddie chuckles away from you.

“Playing music…” you persist, leaning into him a little more. “Texting people…”

“You jealous?” he questions, tongue rolling around in his cheek.

“In your dreams,” you lie.

You’re so close to him now you can practically smell the beer. He inches closer, the front portion of his curly locks tickling the side of your face.

“In your dreams.”

Your thighs clench. In your dreams, indeed. Eddie winks at you like he knows.

“Whatever you say,” you scoff. “Freak.”

———— 🌹————

After dinner, you and Eddie decide to walk around the shopping strip. Eddie walks closest to the street, leaving you on the innermost part of the sidewalk like a gentleman.

“So who’s Wayne? Heard you and Henry talking about him before we left.”

“He's my uncle,” Eddie answers. “Pretty much raised me since I was a kid. I owe a lot to him.”

You continue to walk. Somehow along the way, you and Eddie end up strolling with your arms around each other. He turns to ask,

“Who is Max?”

“Max?” you’re stunned to hear that name roll off his tongue. Despite him helping with her YMCA membership, you had always registered them as being worlds apart from each other. “She’s my sister.”

Eddie slowly nods in understanding.

“Her full name is Maxine,” you explain. “Max for short.”

“No wonder,” Eddie chuckles. “I always hear you mentioning a Max and have been wondering who that is.”

“You jealous?” you echo him.

He sneers, “You wish.”

You take this time to admire Eddie. His wanderlust eyes. His pronounced Cupid’s Bow. His thick, wavy locks. The tiny freckle at the crook of his neck that you were sure a lover left for him in a past life. The way his dark clothes always seem to hug him so nice. He’s breathtaking. The hottest thing you’ve ever seen.

"WHOA!" Eddie brings you back. "That's the hottest shit I've ever seen!"

There he goes again. You race after Eddie as he scampers across the street, leading you to what appears to be a lingerie-slash-sex shop. On display is a beautiful scarlet red two piece with fluffy wings behind it to match.

DEVIL WOMAN, is what the set is advertised as.

"Whew, lord," Eddie whistles, pressing his hands against the plexiglass.

He turns to you desperately.

"You can make SO many tips with this on," Eddie insists. "I'm telling you right now woman, you need to seize this opportunity."

"Are you gonna pay for it?" you joke, batting your lashes seductively.

"Sure!" Eddie exclaims. "A-anything you want tonight, you'll get."

It sounds too good to be true.

"Not you trying to spoil me..."

"Definitely me trying to spoil you,” a sneaky smirk forms across his face yet again. “Especially since I’ve been an asshole lately.”

It’s a fair bargain. Not like you can deny it either.

You two shake hands, deal, and make your merry way inside Madame Sédutrice’s Love Boutique.

Time to make his pockets — and heart — hurt.

————💋 ————

It fits you like a glove.

Everything is just right. There is no free space, but there is some real estate to breathe. The set is also squat and split proof. Perfect for a good show.

You strut in front of the mirror like a Victoria’s Secret Devil, relishing over how well the fiery red set accentuates your bust, hugs your hips, and highlights the cheekiest parts of your ass with just enough coverage to have the men wondering.

To leave Eddie wondering.

You’re parading around some more, taking selfies at all angles while Eddie talks to the cashier about guitars. Eventually he does circle back around, as you've been in here for a long period of time.

"Shy Girl," Eddie checks on you from outside. "Did you die in there?"

You put your phone away.

"No, but you're about to."

He laughs. "I love the confidence. Let me at her."

You pull the curtain over so that Eddie can see.

“Jesus fuck.”

Eddie sinks down to his knees, the tips of his fingers trailing from your hips to your thighs, down to your calves. He’s being dramatic again, you think, evident by the three bows of resignation he gives you as he continues to take in your beauty.

"What do you think?" you ask him.

"Simply out of this world," Eddie gasps. He stands to spin you around like he once did before. "You look... like an absolute fantasy. Destined for some alternate dimension."

His breathing heightens as his rough hands trail down to your birthmark. And soon, you’re up there with him.

“I can already see you on that stage,” Eddie gushes. “Doing your thing, stealing the show, driving customers wild. The spotlight soaking in all your beauty...”

“The version of me living in your head sounds pretty damn cool,” you giggle.

You snake your arms around the nape of his neck. Eddie blushes. “She’s a lot like the girl in front of me, actually.”

Either of you can let go now. But you both don't.

“Wanna get out of here?” he asks.

"Mmm… I don't think I'm done just yet," you bat your eyes once more. "What’s a set like this without some accessories?"

You grab his hand and he watches in shock — almost starstruck by you — when you manually wrap his hand around your neck.

“Like a necklace of sorts,” you continue. “A choker, maybe?”

“A choker,” Eddie nods. “Yeah, I can do that.”

He gives you a teasing, gentle squeeze. You’re an absolute puddle.

He grins at you connivingly, playfully.

"Lead the way, m'lady. Anything you want tonight is yours.”

———— 🔥 ————

Satisfied is an understatement. You’re strutting back to Eddie’s van now as he trails closely behind, hauling shopping bags that belong to you in each hand.

“Thank you Eddie,” you say as he manages to open the door for you too.

“Anytime, Princess,” he insists.

You get settled on the passenger side while Eddie starts the van back up again. He waits for a while in his seat.

“You looked stunning in that piece,” Eddie raves, the image of you strutting around still living in his head. “I almost don’t want you to wear it anymore.”

You raise an eyebrow. “What? Why?”

“I wanna be the only one who gets to see you in it,” he explains.

“Gatekeeper much?”

“No, I’m just selfish,” he says. “Especially when you look like that.”

Eddie takes it upon himself to fasten your seatbelt for you.

Your eyes trail along as he clicks it in place, adjusting the seatbelt so that it laid perfectly and untangled, protecting your hips…shielding your chest…

“My eyes only, you know?”

“Just yours?”

“Mhm,” he strains. “Mine and only mine.”

His gentle eyes are begging, glued to your lips like bees to honey. His tongue pokes out again, and you watch as he licks his lips in lust. Fuck. You can’t help it anymore. You decide to lean into him and try again.

But hostile air stops you in your place. There's fear in that man's eyes the closer you get and he pulls away from you.

OH FOR FUCK’S SAKE.

You swat the rest of him away. “You’re doing it again.”

Eddie sighs in defeat.

"I know."

The fact that you didn’t have to elaborate is very telling. Eddie is not stupid. He knows the game he’s playing.

You watch with zero sympathy this time as Eddie pinches the bridge of his nose in exasperation. He lifts a hand. You flinch. Then you relax again when you realize the man isn’t trying to hit you.

“I’m VERY aware of what I’m doing, Hargrove. Okay? That’s the worst part.”

“And you think it’s okay? You like stringing me along, is that it?”

“There’s MORE TO IT, alright?” he groans. “I just don’t know how to explain it to you just yet.”

Eddie starts up again.

“I…” he says, his haunted eyes sparkling. “I just. CAN’T. get. involved. with a coworker. Let alone someone who works under me. Think of all the legal issues that can rise up.”

Bullshit.

“That is a FUCKING LIE!” you scream. “A fucking LIE, Eddie and you know how I know that?”

He looks back over at you.

“It’s because you didn’t think twice about it when you were hooking up with Chrissy.”

You’ve had enough of his excuses. Startled, Eddie shies away from you, surprised that you knew of what he so desperately wanted to conceal.

“Who told you that?”

“Who else would know?”

“Everyone at Hellfire, basically,” Eddie laughs pettily. “I just hoped it wouldn’t get around to you.”

Frustrated, Eddie turns off his car. He tosses his keys onto the center console between you both.

“Chrissy and I happened like two or three times. Is that what you wanted to hear?” he asks you. “She was horny, I was horny. She never gave me the time of day in high school so I got all excited. One thing led to another. Thrill eventually wore off. Now she’s just one of my good friends.”

You cross your arms and glare out the window.

“But the reason I was soooo okay with the Chrissy thing is because I only saw her as a fling,” Eddie continues. “End of story.”

“Where exactly are you going with this?”

“The difference with you is that a part of me actually wanted this to go somewhere.”

Does he think you’re stupid? Surely Eddie can’t think you’re just going to fall for his words instead of his actions.

You scoff. “You’re being ridiculous.”

“Am I?”

You muster up the courage to look over at him again. And there he is, his big brown doe eyes glimmering under the full moon.

“I’ve never met anyone like you before, Hargrove,” he mumbles softly. “That shit’s terrifying. For the first time in an incredibly long time I feel like someone gets me.”

You attempt to look away again. Eddie cranes his neck over towards you to meet you where you’re at.

“Someone who gets what it’s like to have a shitty, absent father,” Eddie continues. “Someone who also had to learn how to navigate grief before getting a fucking learner’s permit.”

“You can stop,” you choke. “I get the picture.”

But Eddie continues.

“…Someone who also has to be the bread-winner of the family, not by choice, but by necessity. And someone whose now got a shit ton of trust issues cuz somebody else had to go and fuck ‘em up THAT badly.”

Your throat begins to burn. A soul cry marinates at the pit of your stomach.

"I'm so infatuated with you, Hargrove,” your boss insists. “Okay? You have no idea.”

You tsk.

“You’re infatuated with me,” it’s more of a statement than a question of yours. “Yet you push me away.”

Eddie rolls his eyes. “Oh, come on, like you don’t have trouble accepting things you so rightfully deserve?”

He reaches over to grab your hand. You let him.

"There's nothing scarier than falling for someone who is your literal mirror," Eddie whispers. "Especially when you don't like anything about yourself."

“I know.”

You two fall silent and end up staring ahead for quite some time.

Both of you observe a couple cross the street together. The smitten pair are taking a stroll on the sidewalk, hand in hand and falling into one another like missing puzzle pieces. The guy kisses the girl's forehead, his silhouette reminding you so much of Steve.

“I also didn’t wanna get in between you and Harrington," Eddie mumbles.

“I told you we’re just fuck buddies.”

“But he really, really likes you.”

“Yeah, but if he’s not over Nancy, then what’s the point?”

It’s been a decade since Steve and Nancy broke up and he’s still lovesick over her. When you realized that she couldn’t ever be replaced, you stopped trying to pursue Steve romantically. Eddie falls mute again.

"I'm just his lil pocket pussy for all I know," you break the ice with a laugh.

"Don't say that," Eddie disapproves. "You are more than your body, Shy Girl."

“Then tell me what I am, Eddie,” the wounded part of you speaks. “Since I don’t seem to know.”

His gaze softens. “Well, it’s easy.”

You look at him.

"Corn ball alert,” Eddie prefaces. “But you’re the conversations you have with your regulars, asking them about their day and if they have any updates for you… You're the friendships you make with girls that you don't see a need to compete with. And you're that silly little dance you do when Argyle makes you food. And you’re also the destructive parts of yourself that you keep hiding from but little do you know that even those parts of you tell a story."

The sound of police sirens divert your attention. You shudder at the noise. Eddie seemingly makes note of it and clears his throat as a placeholder.

"…I didn't think you paid attention to any of that, Eds."

"I'm more observant than you think."

You believe him. After all, there are instances when you catch him sneaking a glance at you, turning away too late because you’re caught by his eyes to do the same.

A sigh escapes your body. You interlock your fingers with his.

“I don’t know what... this… is,” you begin. “But all I know is that I really enjoy your company. And that I’ve had a crush on you since the day I met you. If it wasn't obvious already."

Eddie snorts. “Even when I was freaking out over kegs and ground chili?”

“Especially when you were freaking out over kegs and ground chili.”

And now forgiveness is in the air. Monkey see, monkey do, and soon both you and Eddie are grinning at each other from one side of your faces to the other.

“Please,” Eddie requests politely with a gulp. “Will you let me kiss you?”

“Yes.”

To your surprise, Eddie leaves a peck on your cheek out of all places. This fucker, still so polite. He doesn’t touch or graze anywhere else while he does.

“Thanks,” he says as he pulls away. “I guess.”

But you only want him closer now.

“Oh don’t be stupid,” you giggle grabbing his face with both your hands. “Just fucking kiss me.”

You rest your hands at his chin when you pull him closer. And with Eddie’s permission, you sink your lips onto his. His warm breath circles you as your lips attach to one another.

There’s no turning back now.

Eddie’s lips are as soft as a cloud, and they seem to know yours very well. When he’s latched on, Eddie synchronizes with your rhythm almost immediately, getting a few more kisses in before his tongue begs you for entrance. You deny him access and push him back.

“Oooh,” you taunt him, causing him to laugh. “Someone likes me.”

“Maybe,” Eddie blushes, cupping the side of your face with one of his rigid hands. He gives the back of your head an endearing little scratch.

“But you…can’t get involved huh?”

Eddie shakes his head, doing his very best to stand his ground. He’s back to staring at your lips. “No. Definitely can’t…get involved.”

Of course not.

“Not even if I do this?”

You swoop over to press down on the button of Eddie’s seat belt to unbuckle it. Click. He restrains himself, but there’s wonder in his eyes.

“Or this?”

Your hands travel to the side furthest from you as you lean to crank the lever, lowering the head of Eddie’s driver seat to a 30 degree angle.

Amused now, he furrows his brows together and rests his hands behind his head, manspreading as you play that agonizingly long game.

“You’re pushing it, Hargrove…”

Using his unavailable hands to your advantage, you climb over him and assert yourself on his lap. A low groan escapes Eddie’s nose. You make sure to strategically situate yourself right on his crotch. Eddie’s breath hitches, hand hovering over your birthmark as you sink those hips into him. He bucks his up in return, trying to keep up with you.

“What about this?”

“Oh, that’s not fair…”

His hands are back at your waist.

A protruding essence grows in size as you continue to ride Eddie’s thigh. Soft, low whimpers escape from his chest, his dark eyes now beseeching at his mercy. Eddie’s fingers curl, enclosing themselves tightly around the fabric of your baby tee. His available hand gnaws at the seat below him.

“I don’t like playing fair,” you whisper huskily. “I just like getting even.”

Both of yours eyes are glued to what you’re doing, where you’re grinding, and how.

“Why do you do this to me?” he whispers longingly.

“I think it’s safe to say that you’ve been edging me for quite some time, Munson,” you shrug angelically. “Now it’s my turn to give you a taste of—”

You squeal suddenly when Eddie’s hand flies to your throat. The grip he has on you tightens hastily, long before you can even process it.

Shock overpowers you as Eddie studies you eagerly, with flared nostrils and a hot chest. You peer down at him with glossy eyes and yearning lips.

“Back of the van,” Eddie orders. “Now.”

—————————————

tag list: @battymunson , @the-fairy-anon, @ali-r3n, @corrodedcoffincumslut, @bebe07011, @mmunson86 , @eddiesguitarskills , @chelebelletx , @imonhereforareasonsadly , @eddies-trailer-babe @hideoutside , @motherfckerrr , @jxpsi , @munson-magic , @lindseyj23, @sidthedollface2 , @manda-panda-monium , @elvendria , @micheledawn1975 , @hereforshmut , @siriuslysmoking , @nymphetkoo , @m-chmcl-rmnc , @holabeans00, @ahoyyharrington , @keepittoyourselftellnobodyelse

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author's note: i'd be lying if i told you guys i didn't play imaginary barbies in my head in order to map out the argument between eddie and shy girl dfsjklfdkgfgsg would you say I’m a puppet master?

#eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie x reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things 5 #joseph quinn #joe quinn #Spotify

[lot-of-nothing]

Can I Call You Rose? (Ch. 1?)

Chessy x Reader

As the new viticulturist (grape-growing expert) at Nick Parker's vineyard, you fall for a certain nanny. (Post-Parent Trap movie I think)

Warnings: SOFT SMUT (with a little plot and romance)

You wondered if your fingers were going to go numb, or perhaps your heart would just explode first?

You had finally worked up the courage to kiss the auburn-haired beauty mere hours ago and now Chessy’s lips were finally attached to her neck. You had met during your first week as Nick Parker’s head viticulturist. Her warmth was magnetic and you always tried to find reasons to tend to the grapes closest to the house in case you could start a conversation with the nanny. You spent many afternoons together, flirting while she brought you her homemade lemonade or while you walked her around the rows of vines handing her grapes to try. Chessy always seemed to wear a smile when you were near, filling you with butterflies in return. You had been dreaming of this moment since you first met the beautiful woman and now you were filled with pure unfiltered anxiety. 

Chessy’s open mouth kisses to your throat and collarbone were unlike anything you had ever experienced. Were you supposed to crave her as much as you did? There was a fire ignited in the pit of your stomach that hungered for something that felt so forbidden.

As nervous as you were, you wanted more. You needed more. You wanted to feel Chessy’s hands setting every inch of your skin aflame… but the thrum of energy winding through every cell in your being had you wondering if you would have a panic attack or pass out before that could happen. 

“Hon… Hon? Honey!” 

You must have spaced out entirely as Chessy’s voice drew you back to reality. Next thing you knew, Chessy’s hands were now cupping your face, staring intently into your eyes. 

“Hm?” You hummed, your eyes brimming with tears as you felt like you could finally breathe again. You felt incredibly embarrassed that you felt that you couldn’t handle the physical intimacy. It was hard when you were so in love with Chessy and lacked the experience you thought necessary to please her.

“Are you okay, sweetie?” Chessy’s voice was just above a whisper. She was terribly worried that she had pushed the bounds of your relationship too far too soon. Little did she know that it would be your own slip up that would be the culprit of a ‘too much too soon’ relationship. 

“I-I-I…” You quickly stopped herself short, not wanting to make yourself cry.

“It’s okay… Wanna finish our movie, honey?”

You shook your head furiously, determined to push yourself through the anxiety and nerves.

“Honey…” Chessy seemed skeptical, her hands squeezing your cheeks. The extra bit of care Chessy showed was all you needed to lose your head, tears pooling in your eyes and spilling onto your cheeks.

You stared into your hands, trying to explain to Chessy why you were struggling to get through your anxieties. “I just… don’t- I just don’t know how to pleasure a woman…” 

“Tell you what. Come’re…” Chessy cooed, drawing you in so you could sit between the auburn beauty’s legs. From there Chessy gently caressed your arms, speaking in a firm but gentle tone. “I am going to turn on a different show and you are gonna sit right here and enjoy it, okay?”

You sniffled and nodded, reclining back in Chessy’s arms as an attempt at relaxing. A few moments passed of Chessy tapping away on her phone. The audio sounded off before you even comprehended what was playing, “I hope you are nice and wet for me.”

You certainly weren't expecting Chessy to stream a guided masturbation from her phone onto the television. 

Your cheeks flushed a deep red, “Wha-?”

Chessy’s hands fell to your sweatpants, pulling out the band a couple of inches as she spoke, “I want you to just relax. Just do what she tells you to, okay?”

Your hand was shaking as you pushed it into your sweatpants, never having experienced anything like a guided masturbation before. While daunting, it was incredibly hot.

The audio rang over the tv speakers once more, causing butterflies to swirl in your stomach, “Now, why don’t you see how wet you are for me? Slip your fingers in your panties for me.”

As you slipped your fingers in your underwear, you let out a whimper at first contact with your cunt. What else would you be in for with this nanny? What other tricks were hidden up her sleeves to drive you wild? 

Even though all of your building anxiety, you had grown incredibly wet from Chessy’s touch. You rolled your head back onto Chessy’s shoulder, earning a kiss to your temple as you did. Chessy’s voice was gentle in your ear, “You are doing so well, honey.”

The video instructed you once more, telling you to focus on your clit. Considering the pacing of the video, Chessy must have found a video long enough to help you relax, but short enough that she could find more involvement in your pleasure sooner rather than later. 

Doing as you were told, you circled your clit and felt yourself melting back into the auburn beauty’s arms. What you couldn’t see was Chessy’s smile as she felt the tension in your body fade. Her hands wound up your front, working your t-shirt up your torso to access your breasts.

The audio emanated from the tv was filled with the performer's moans, but you were becoming enraptured by the soft, encouraging hums from the woman behind you. Chessy’s hands drifted up and down your stomach, stopping at your breasts to give a gentle squeeze before shifting back down once more. 

“Let me hear you, sweetie…”

You bit your bottom lip and turned your face into Chessy’s neck, unsure if you were ready to be heard. 

Without a response, Chessy hummed disapprovingly, her hand slipping its way into your sweatpants and then underwear in search of your wetness. At the feeling of her fingers mingling with yours in your cunt, you withdrew your hand and dropped it to your side to allow her to take over. You couldn’t keep yourself from softly sighing at the feeling of her gentle fingertips working against your clit. 

“God, you are so wet…” Chessy whined at the way your wetness coated her fingers. 

You bucked your hips up into her hand, desperately wishing for this sensation to last forever. With her arms around you, fingers dancing around your clit, and her hot breath against your neck, your head was spinning. You couldn’t help but moan before blurting your thoughts to Chessy, “You- you’re so beautiful…” 

“Mmm… thank you, honey.” Chessy cooed, her arm winding around your waist to cradle you close as her fingers continued working against you. Your entire being was set aflame by Chessy’s loving embrace and skilled fingers. 

Your breathing rate was growing faster and faster, the coil in your stomach tightening as you grew closer to your orgasm. 

Chessy’s teeth nipped at your earlobe, tenderly nibbling as she added extra pressure as she circled your clit. Her voice came as a soft whisper, forcing warmth to spread across your face. “I can feel you getting close. You are so beautiful when you fall apart like this for me.” 

“Fuck, I love you~” You exhaled, not registering your words while your hands clung to her forearm. 

Sadly, you were too lost in the throes of your eminent orgasm to notice her lack of a response. She only nuzzled you with her cheek and held you tight as your orgasm washed over you.

Your back arched and your hips thrashed, unable to contain yourself. Your eyes squeezed shut and you let out a lengthy moan, trying to enjoy every ounce of the orgasm Chessy guided you through. 

Chessy sighed with a soft smile and withdrew her hand from your pants. She was trying to ignore her own anxiety building from her lack of response to your omission of love. While she felt she loved you as well, it all felt like too much too soon. In years past, she had dove head first into relationships and had only been burned in return. She had no intention of ruining your relationship over the omission of her own feelings. 

“How do you feel?”

“Mmm… good.” With a deep breath, you roll over in her arms, pressing your cheek near the base of her sternum. You tucked your hands under her wide hips and enjoyed the feeling of your bodies pressed together. “How do you feel about me returning the favor?”

Chessy pushed her anxieties deep down, not wanting to ruin a perfect moment. She had been falling for you since you started at the Parker estate. “Maybe in the morning…”

“Are you sure? I would love to-”

There was that word again. It made Chessy’s stomach drop. 

“No. It’s really okay. We could just… finish our movie.”

She seemed curt in her reply. It lacked the typical warmth you always received from her. It made you terribly self conscious until her hands wandered to the skin of your back, drawing loopy circles with one hand while her other turned the tv back to your movie.

“Mmm… you better be careful or I’ll fall asleep.” You murmured, testing the waters of how likely it would be for you to spend the night with the nanny. 

“Whatever shall I do. I would hate for someone so cute to be in my bed when I woke up.” Chessy was being incredibly sarcastic, her hands continuing to scratch your back in lazy loops. 

You allowed your own hands to wander her hips and thighs as a different form of self-soothing. You obsessed over the soft dips of cellulite and the slopes created by the widening of her hips. Her baggy clothing hid the curves you wanted to memorize through all of your senses. 

Chessy’s eyes drifted shut as she pushed herself to enjoy your loving touch. It was hard for her to accept such unadulterated affection, but she desperately wanted to try. It felt so good for her to be wanted and desired, but the vulnerability required for a deep and meaningful relationship lurked in the back of her mind. 

#chessy #the parent trap #chessy the parent trap #lisa ann #lisa ann walter #LAW #the plot was an after thought yet i think this could be something angsty and smutty #smut was the number one priority okay??? #idk we will see how it goes #maybe i will do a part 2 we will see if anyone likes this #be nice this is the first fic i am posting here okay? #chessy x reader #lisa ann walter x reader #fanfic

[hopelesslys-world]

50 SHADES OF FUCKED UP | CH.4

TRIGGER WARNINGS!: TOXIC RELATIONSHIP, reader is kind of a bimbo, heavily detailed smut, basically porn, loss of virginity, harsh language, anger issues, stalking, obsession, jealousy, controlling behaviour, DOM-SUB themes, BDSM Expand considered to be portrayed with incorrect/poor etiquette, emotional abuse, physical abuse, sexual abuse/assault, statutory rape.

EXTRAS: Vomiting, alcohol !

Tell me if I missed anything...( As you can see most of the warnings will appear in future chapters. )

I apologize for any grammar mistakes...

Y/L/N: Your Last Name

Y/N/N: Your Nickname

Y/M/N: Your Middle Name

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*𝙔𝙊𝙐𝙍 𝙋𝙊𝙑*

┅┅

𝐎𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐍𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐊, 𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐃 concrete of the garage with its bleak fluorescent light, I speed towards Bella's car getting inside as if someone was chasing me.

What was I thinking? Unbidden and unwelcome incoming tears make my eyes water.

Why am I crying? I sink to the ground, angry at myself for this senseless reaction. I hide my face in my hands and wipe a stray tear off my cheek.

That is so embarrassing. I embarrassed myself out there thinking that we were going to kiss. I'm so stupid, being sad of something I never had. How ridiculous. Something that never was – my dashed hopes, dashed dreams, and my soured expectations.

I have never been on the receiving end of rejection. Okay… so I was always one of the last to be picked for basketball or volleyball – but I understood that – running and doing something else at the same time like bouncing or throwing a ball is not my thing. I am a serious liability in any sporting field.

Romantically, though, I’ve never put myself out there, ever. A lifetime of insecurity – I’m too pale, too skinny, too scruffy, uncoordinated, my long list of faults goes on. So I have always been the one to rebuff any would be admirers. There was that guy in my chemistry class who liked me, but no one has ever sparked my interest – no one except Christian damn Grey.

Maybe I should be kinder to the likes of Paul Clayton and José Rodriguez, though I’m sure neither of them have been found like me inside their car in a dark parking lot.

I should go home, do my studying. Forget about him and stop all this self-pitying, crap!!!

I take a deep, steadying breath and start the engine. I will not think of him again. I can just chalk this incident up to experience and concentrate on my exams.

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Bella is sitting at the dining table at her laptop when I arrive. Her welcoming smile fades when she sees me.

“Y/N/N what’s wrong?”

Oh no… not the Isabella Clark Inquisition. I shake my head at her in a back-off now Bella way – but I might as well be dealing with a blind, deaf mute.

“You’ve been crying,” she has an exceptional gift for stating the damned obvious sometimes. “What did that bastard do to you?” she growls, and her face – jeez, she’s scary.

“Nothing Bella.” That’s actually the problem. The thought brings a wry smile to my face.

“Then why have you been crying? You never cry,” she says, her voice softening. She stands, her green eyes brimming with concern. She puts her arms around me and hugs me.

I need to say something just to get her to back off. “I was nearly knocked over by a cyclist.” It’s the best that I can do, but it distracts her momentarily from… him.

“Jeez Y/N/N – are you okay? Were you hurt?” She holds me at arm’s length and does a quick visual check-up on me.

“No. Christian saved me,” I whisper. “But I was quite shaken.”

“I’m not surprised. How was coffee? I know you hate coffee.”

“I had tea. It was fine, nothing to report really. I don’t know why he asked me.”

“He likes you Y/N/N.” She drops her arms.

“Not anymore. I won’t be seeing him again.” Yes, I manage to sound matter of fact.

“Oh?”

Shit. She’s intrigued. I head into the kitchen so that she can’t see my face.

“Yeah… he’s a little out of my league Bella,” I say as dryly as I can manage.

“What do you mean?”

“Oh Bella, it’s obvious.” I whirl round and face her as she stands in the kitchen doorway.

“Not to me,” she says. “Okay, he’s got more money than you, but then he has more money than most people in America!”

“Bella he’s– ” I shrug.

“Y/N! For heaven’s sake – how many times must I tell you? You’re a total babe,” she interrupts me. She’s off on this tirade again.

“Bella, please. I need to study.” I cut her short. She frowns.

“Do you want to see the article? It’s finished. José took some great pictures.”

Do I need a visual reminder of the beautiful Christian I-don’t-want-you Grey?

“Sure,” I magic a smile on to my face and stroll over to the laptop. And there he is, staring at me in black and white, staring at me and finding me lacking.

I pretend to read the article, all the time meeting his steady gray gaze, searching the photo for some clue as to why he’s not the man for me – his own words to me. And it’s suddenly, blindingly obvious. He’s too gloriously good-looking. We are poles apart and from two very different worlds. His words make sense. He’s not the man for me.

This is what he meant, and it makes his rejection easier to accept… almost. I can live with this. I understand.

“Very good Bella,” I manage. “I’m going to study.” I am not going to think about him again for now, I vow to myself, and opening my revision notes, I start to read.

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It’s only when I’m in bed, trying to sleep, that I allow my thoughts to drift through my strange morning. I keep coming back to the ‘I don’t do the girlfriend thing’ quote, and I’m angry that I didn’t pounce on this information sooner, when I was in his arms mentally begging him with every fiber of my being to kiss me. He’d said it there and then. He didn’t want me as a girlfriend. I turn on to my side.

Idly, I wonder if perhaps he’s celibate? I close my eyes and begin to drift. Maybe he’s saving himself.

Well not for you, my sleepy subconscious has a final swipe at me before unleashing itself on my dreams.

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I put my pen down. Finished. My final exam is over. I feel the Cheshire cat grin spread over my face.

It’s Friday, and we'll be celebrating tonight, really celebrating. I might even get drunk! I’ve never been drunk before. I glance across the sports hall at Bella, and she’s still scribbling furiously, five minutes to the end. This is it, the end of my academic career.

I shall never have to sit in rows of anxious, isolated students again. Inside I’m doing graceful cartwheels around my head, knowing full well that’s the only place I can do graceful cartwheels.

Bella stops writing and puts her pen down. She glances across at me, and I catch her sly smile too.

We head back to our apartment together in her Mercedes, refusing to discuss our final paper. Bella is more concerned about what she’s going to wear to the bar this evening. I am busily fishing around in my purse for my keys.

“Y/N/N, there’s a package for you.” Bella is standing on the steps up to the front door holding a brown paper parcel. Odd. I haven’t ordered anything from Amazon recently. Bella gives me the parcel and takes my keys to open the front door.

It’s addressed to Miss Y/N Y/L/N. There’s no sender’s address or name. Perhaps it’s from my mom or Ray.

“It’s probably from my mom or dad.”

“Open it!” Bella is excited as she heads into the kitchen for our ‘Exams are finished celebration Champagne’.

I open the parcel, and inside I find a half leather box containing three seemingly identical old cloth-covered books in mint condition and a plain white card. Written on one side, in black ink in neat cursive handwriting, is:

Why didn't you tell me there was danger? Why didn't you warn me?

Ladies know what to guard against, because they read novels that tell them of these trisks...

I recognize the quote from Tess. I am stunned by the irony as I’ve just spent three hours writing about the novels of Thomas Hardy in my final examination. Perhaps there is no irony… perhaps it’s deliberate.

I inspect the books closely, three volumes of Tess of the D’Urbervilles. I open the front cover. Written in an old typeface on the front plate is:

‘London: Jack R. Osgood, McIlvaine and Co., 1891.’

Holy fuck - they are first editions. They must be worth a fortune, and I know immediately who’s sent them. Bella is at my shoulder gazing at the books. She picks up the card.

“First Editions,” I whisper.

“No way...” Bella’s eyes are wide with disbelief. “Grey?”

I nod. “Can’t think of anyone else.”

“What does this card mean?”

“I have no idea. I think it’s a warning – honestly he keeps warning me off. I have no idea why. It’s not like I’m beating his door down.” I frown.

“I know you don’t want to talk about him, Y/N/N, but he’s seriously into you. Warnings or no.”

I have not let myself dwell on Christian Grey for the past week. Okay…I know it will take an eternity to expunge the feel of his arms around me and his wonderful fragrance from my brain. Why has he sent me this?

He told me that I wasn’t for him.

“I’ve found one Tess first edition for sale in New York at $14,000. But yours looks in much better condition. They must have cost more.” Bella is consulting her good friend Google.

“This quote – Tess says it to her mother after Alec D’Urberville has had his wicked way with her.”

“I know,” muses Bella. “What is he trying to say?”

“I don’t know, and I don’t care. I can’t accept these from him. I’ll send them back with an equally baffling quote from some obscure part of the book.”

“The bit where Angel Clare says fuck off?” Bella asks with a completely straight face.

“Yes, that bit.” I giggle. I love Bella, she’s so loyal and supportive. I repack the books and leave them on the dining table. She hands me a glass of champagne.

“To the end of exams and our new life in Seattle,” she grins.

“To the end of exams, our new life in Seattle, and excellent results.” We clink glasses and drink.

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The bar is loud and hectic, full of soon to be graduates out to get trashed. José joins us. He won’t graduate for another year, but he’s in the mood to party and gets us into the spirit of our newfound freedom by buying a pitcher of margaritas for us all.

As I down my fifth, I know this is not a good idea on top of the champagne.

“So what now Y/N/N?” José shouts at me over the noise.

“Bella and I are moving to Seattle. Her parents have bought a condo there for her.”

“But you’ll be back for my show, right?”

“Of course, José, I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” I smile, and he puts his arm around my waist and pulls me close.

“It means a lot to me that you’ll be there Y/N/N,” he whispers in my ear. “Another margarita?”

“José Luis Rodriguez – are you trying to get me drunk? Because I think it’s working.” I giggle. “I think I’d better have a beer. I’ll go get us a pitcher.”

“More drinks, Y/N/N!” Bella bellows.

Bella has the constitution of an ox. She’s got her arm draped over Levi, one of our fellow English students and her usual photographer on her student newspaper. He’s given up taking photos of the drunkenness that surrounds him. He only has eyes for her. She’s in a stunning red dress that hugs her curves perfectly with black high heels and curls that reach her back elegantly.

Me, I’m in my usual skirt outfit but Bella made it more 'club like' and I love it, I feel very comfortable.

I move out of José’s hold and get up from our table. Whoa. Head spin. I have to grab the back of the chair. Tequila based cocktails are not a good idea.

I make my way to the bar and decide that I should visit the restroom while I am on my feet.

Good thinking, Y/N. I stagger off through the crowd. Of course, there’s a line, but at least it’s quiet and cool in the corridor. I reach for my cell phone to relieve the boredom of waiting in line.

Hmm… Who did I last call? Was it José? Before that a number I don’t recognize. Oh yes. Grey, I think this is his number. I giggle. I have no idea what the time is, maybe I’ll wake him. Perhaps he can tell me why he sent me those books and the crypticmessage.

If he wants me to stay away, he should leave me alone. I suppress a drunken grin and hit the automatic re-dial. He answers on the second ring. “Y/N?” He’s surprised to hear from me. Well, frankly, I’m surprised to ring him.

Then my befuddled brain registers… how does he know it’s me? “Why did you send me the books?” I slur at him.

“Y/N, are you okay? You sound strange.” His voice is filled with concern.

“I’m not the strange one, you are,” I accuse. My courage fuelled by alcohol.

“Y/N, have you been drinking?”

“What’s it to you?”

“I’m...curious. Where are you?”

“In a bar.”

“Which bar?” He sounds exasperated.

“A bar in Portland.”

“How are you getting home?”

“I’ll find a way.” This conversation is not going how I expected.

“Which bar are you in?”

“Why did you send me the books, Christian?”

“Y/N, where are you, tell me now.” His tone is so, so dictatorial, his usual control freak.

He's a freak. The thought makes me laugh.“You’re so… domineering,” I giggle.

“Where the fuck are you?” He asked angrily.

Christian Grey is swearing at me. I giggle again. “I’m in Portland… s’a long way from Seattle s'a long way from your bizarre ass.”

“Where in Portland?”

“Goodnight, Christian.”

“Y/N!”

I hang up. Ha! Though he didn’t tell me about the books. I frown. Mission not accomplished. I am really quite drunk - my head swims uncomfortably as I shuffle with the line. Well, the object of the exercise was to get drunk. I have succeeded. This is what it’s like – probably not an experience to be repeated.

The line has moved, and it’s now my turn. I stare blankly at the poster on the back of the toilet door that extols the virtues of safe sex.

Fuck, did I just call Christian Grey? Shit. My phone rings and it makes me jump. I yelp in surprise. “Hi,” I bleat timidly in to the phone. I hadn’t reckoned on this.

“I’m coming to get you,” he says and hangs up. Only Christian Grey could sound so calm and so threatening at the same time.

What the hell. I pull my skirt up. My heart is thumping. Coming to get me?

Oh no. I’m going to be sick… no… I’m fine. Hang on. He’s just messing with my head. I didn’t tell him where I was. He can’t find me here. Besides, it will take him hours to get here from Seattle, and we’ll be long gone by then. I wash my hands and check my face in the mirror.

I look flushed and slightly unfocused. Hmm… tequila.

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*𝘾𝙃𝙍𝙄𝙎𝙏𝙄𝘼𝙉'𝙎 𝙋𝙊𝙑*

┅┅

The bar is crowded, full of students determined to have a good time. There’s some indie crap thumping over the sound system and the dance floor is crowded with heaving bodies.

It makes me feel old.

She’s here somewhere.

Elliot has followed me in through the front door. “Do you see her?” he shouts over the noise.

Scanning the room, I spot Isabella Clark. She’s with a group of friends, all of them men, sitting in a booth. There’s no sign of Y/N, but the table is littered with shot glasses and tumblers of beer.

Well, let’s see if Miss Clark is as loyal to her friend as Y/N is to her. She looks at me in surprise when we arrive at her table.

“Isabella,” I say by way of greeting, and she interrupts me before I can ask her Y/N’s whereabouts.

“Christian, what a surprise to see you here,” she shouts above the noise. The three guys at the table regard Elliot and me with hostile wariness.

“I was in the neighborhood.”

“And who’s this?” She smiles rather too brightly at Elliot, interrupting me again. What an exasperating woman.

“This is my brother Elliot. Elliot, Isabella Clark. Where’s Y/N?”

Her smile broadens at Elliot, and I’m surprised by his answering grin.

“I think she went outside for some fresh air, she responds, but she doesn’t look at me. She has eyes only for Mr. Love ’Em and Leave ’Em. Well, it’s her funeral.

“Outside? Where?” I shout.

“Oh. That way.” She points to double doors at the far end of the bar.

Pushing through the throng, I make my way to the door, leaving the three disgruntled men and Clark and Elliot engaged in a grin-off.

Through the double doors there is a line for the ladies’ washroom, and beyond that a door that’s open to the outside. It’s at the back of the bar. Ironically, it leads to the parking lot where Elliot and I have just been.

Walking outside, I find myself in a gathering space adjacent to the parking lot—a hangout flanked by raised flowerbeds, where a few people are smoking, drinking, chatting. Making out. I spot her.

Fucking hell. She’s with the photographer, I think, though it’s difficult to tell in the dim light. She’s in his arms, but she seems to be twisting away from him. He mutters something to her, which I don’t hear, and kisses her, along her jaw.

“José, no,” she says, and then it’s clear. She’s trying to push him off. She doesn’t want this.

For a moment I want to rip his head off. With my hands fisted at my side I march up to them. “I think the lady said no.” My voice carries, cold and sinister, in the relative quiet, while I struggle to contain my anger.

He releases Y/N and she squints at me with a dazed, drunken expression.

“Grey,” he says, his voice terse, and it takes every ounce of my self-control not to smash the disappointment off his face.

Y/N heaves, then buckles over and vomits on the ground.

Oh, shit!

“Ugh—Dios mío, Y/N/N!” José leaps out of the way in disgust.

Fucking idiot.

Ignoring him, I grab her hair and hold it out of the way as she continues to throw up everything she’s had this evening. It’s with some annoyance that I note she doesn’t appear to have eaten. With my arm around her shoulders I lead her away from the curious onlookers toward one of the flowerbeds.

“If you’re going to throw up again, do it here. I’ll hold you.” It’s darker here. She can puke in peace. She vomits again and again, her hands on the brick. It’s pitiful. Once her stomach is empty, she continues to retch, long dry heaves.

Boy, she’s got it bad.

Finally her body relaxes and I think she’s finished. Releasing her, I give her my handkerchief, which by some miracle I have in the inside pocket of my jacket.

Thank you, Mrs. Jones.

Wiping her mouth, she turns and rests against the bricks, avoiding eye contact because she’s ashamed and embarrassed. And yet I’m so pleased to see her. Gone is my fury at the photographer. I’m delighted to be standing in the parking lot of a student bar in Portland with Miss Y/N Y/L/N.

She puts her head in her hands, cringes, then peeks up at me, still mortified. Turning to the door, she glares over my shoulder. I assume it’s at her “friend.”

“I’ll, um, see you inside,” José says, but I don’t turn to stare him down, and to my favour, she ignores him, too, returning her eyes to mine.

“I’m sorry,” she says finally, while her fingers twist the soft linen.

Okay, let’s have some fun.

“What are you sorry for, Y/N?”

“The phone call, mainly. Being sick. The list goes on,” she mumbles.

“We’ve all been here, perhaps not quite as dramatically as you.” Why is it such fun to tease this young woman? “It’s about knowing your limits, Y/N. I mean, I’m all for pushing limits, but really this is beyond the pale. Do you make a habit of this kind of behavior?”

Perhaps she has a problem with alcohol. The thought is worrying, and I consider whether I should call my mother for a referral to a detox clinic.

Y/N frowns for a moment, as if angry, that little v forming between her brows, and I suppress the urge to kiss it. But when she speaks she sounds contrite.

“No,” she says. “I’ve never been drunk before and right now I have no desire to ever be again.” She looks up at me, her eyes unfocused, and she sways a little. She might pass out, so without giving it a thought I scoop her up into my arms.

She’s surprisingly light. Too light. The thought irks me. No wonder she’s drunk.

“Come on, I’ll take you home.”

“I need to tell Bella,” she says, as her head rests on my shoulder.

“My brother can tell her.”

“What?”

“My brother Elliot is talking to Miss Clark”

“Oh?”

“He was with me when you called.”

“In Seattle?”

“No, I’m staying at The Heathman.” And my wild-goose chase has paid off.

“How did you find me?”

“I tracked your cell phone, Y/N.” I head toward the car. I want to drive her home. “Do you have a jacket or a purse?”

“Er…yes, I came with both. Christian, please, I need to tell Bella. She’ll worry.”

I stop and bite my tongue. Clark wasn’t worried about her being out here with the overamorous photographer. Rodriguez. That’s his name. What kind of friend is she? The lights from the bar illuminate her anxious face.

As much as it pains me, I put her down and agree to take her inside. Holding hands, we walk back into the bar, stopping at Bella’s table. One of the young men is still sitting there, looking annoyed and abandoned.

“Where’s Bella?” Y/N shouts above the noise.

“Dancing,” the guy says, his dark eyes staring at the dance floor. She collects her leather black coat and purse and, reaching out, she unexpectedly clutches my arm.

I freeze.

Shit.

My heart rate catapults into overdrive as the darkness surfaces, stretching and tightening its claws around my throat.

“She’s on the dance floor,” she shouts, her words tickling my ear, distracting me from my fear. And suddenly the darkness disappears and the pounding in my heart ceases.

What?

I roll my eyes to hide my confusion and take her to the bar, order a large glass of water, and pass it to her.

“Drink.”

Eyeing me over the glass, she takes a tentative sip.

“All of it,” I command. I’m hoping this will be enough damage control to avoid one hell of a hangover tomorrow.

What might have happened to her if I hadn’t intervened? My mood sinks.

And I think of what just happened to me. Her touch. My reaction.

My mood plummets further.

Y/N sways a little as she’s drinking, so I steady her with a hand on her shoulder. I like the connection—me touching her.

She finishes her drink, and retrieving the glass, I place it on the bar. Okay. She wants to talk to her so-called friend. I survey the crowded dance floor, uneasy at the thought of all those bodies pressing in on me as we fight our way through.

Steeling myself, I grab her hand and lead her toward the dance floor. She hesitates, but if she wants to talk to her friend, there’s only one way; she’s going to have to dance with me. Once Elliot gets his groove on, there’s no stopping him; so much for his quiet night in.

With a tug, she’s in my arms.

This I can handle. When I know she’s going to touch me, it’s okay. I can deal, especially since I’m wearing my jacket. I weave us through the crowd to where Elliot and Bella are making a spectacle of themselves.

Still dancing, Elliot leans toward me in mid-strut when we’re beside him and sizes us up with a look of incredulity.

“I’m taking Y/N home. Tell Bella,” I shout in his ear.

He nods and pulls Clark into his arms.

Right. Let me take Miss Drunk Bookworm home, but for some reason she seems reluctant to go. She’s watching Clark with concern. When we’re off the dance floor she looks back at Bella, then at me, swaying and a little dazed.

“Fuck—” By some miracle I catch her as she passes out in the middle of the bar. I’m tempted to haul her over my shoulder, but we’d be too conspicuous, so I pick her up once more, cradling her against my chest, and take her outside to the car.

“Christ,” I mutter as I fish the key out of my jeans and hold her at the same time. Amazingly, I manage to get her into the front seat and strap her in.

“Y/N.” I give her a little shake, because she’s worryingly quiet. “Y/N!”

She mumbles something incoherent and I know she’s still conscious. I know I should take her home, but it’s a long drive to Vancouver, and I don’t know if she’ll be sick again. I don’t relish the idea of my Audi reeking of vomit. The smell emanating from her clothes is already noticeable.

I head to The Heathman, telling myself that I’m doing this for her sake.

Yeah, tell yourself that, Grey.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

She sleeps in my arms as we travel up in the elevator from the garage. I need to get her out of her skirt and her shoes. The stale stench of vomit pervades the space. I’d really like to give her a bath, but that would be stepping beyond the bounds of propriety.

And this isn’t?

In my suite, I drop her purse on the sofa, then carry her into the bedroom and lay her down on the bed. She mumbles once more but doesn’t wake. Briskly I remove her shoes and put them in the plastic laundry bag provided by the hotel. Then I unzip her skirt and pull it off stuffing the piece of clothing in the laundry bag.

She falls back on the bed, splayed out like a starfish, all pale arms and legs, and for a moment I picture those legs wrapped around my waist as her wrists are bound to my Saint Andrew’s cross.

I sit her up and she opens her eyes. “Hello, Y/N,” I whisper, as I remove her jacket slowly and without her cooperation.

“Grey. Kiss,” she mutters.

“Yes, sweetheart.” I ease her down onto the bed. She closes her eyes again and rolls onto her side, but this time huddles into a ball, looking small and vulnerable. I pull the covers over her and plant a kiss in her hair.

Now that her filthy clothes have gone, a trace of her scent has reappeared. Apples, fall, fresh, delicious…Y/N. Her lips are parted, eyelashes fanning out over pale cheeks, and her skin looks flawless. One more touch is all I allow myself as I stroke her cheek with the back of my index finger.

“Sleep well,” I murmur, and then head into the living room to complete the laundry list. When it’s done, I place the offending bag outside my suite so the contents will be collected and laundered.

Before I check my e-mails I text Welch, asking him to see if José Rodriguez has any police records. I’m curious. I want to know if he preys on drunk young women. Then I address the issue of clothes for Miss Y/L/N: I send a quick e-mail to Taylor.

•••

From: Christian Grey

RE: Miss Anastasia Steele

Date: May 20, 2023 23:46

To: J B Taylor.

——

Can you please find the following items for Miss Steele and have them delivered to my usual room before 10:00.

Skirt: Black Size 4

Shirt: White. Pretty. Size 4

Boots: Black Size 7

Socks: Size 7

Lingerie: Underwear—Size Small. Bra—Estimate 36C

Thank you.

Christian Grey

CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.

•••

Once it’s disappeared from my outbox, I text Elliot.

Y/N is with me. If you’re still with Bella, tell her.

He texts by return.

Will do. Hope you get laid. You soooo need it. ;)

His response makes me snort.

I so do, Elliot. I so do.

I open my work e-mail and begin to read.

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Nearly two hours later, I come to bed. It’s just after 1:45. She’s fast asleep and hasn’t moved from where I left her. I strip, pull on my pajama pants and a T-shirt, and climb in beside her. She’s comatose; it’s unlikely she’s going to thrash around and touch me.

I hesitate for a moment as the darkness swells within me, but it doesn’t surface and I know it’s because I’m watching the hypnotic rise and fall of her chest and I’m breathing in sync with her.

In. Out. In. Out. In. Out. For seconds, minutes, hours, I don’t know, I watch her. And while she sleeps I survey every beautiful inch of her lovely face. Her dark lashes fluttering while she sleeps, her lips slightly parted so I glimpse her even white teeth.

She mutters something unintelligible and her tongue darts out and licks her lips. It’s arousing, very arousing. Finally I fall into a deep and dreamless slumber.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

[ series masterlist ]

DON'T BE AFRAID TO SPAM WITH LIKES AND COMMENTS. I WOULD ALSO APPRECIATE IT IF YOU COULD REBLOG THIS POST <3

#christian grey #christian grey fanfic #christian grey smut #christian grey x reader #christian grey x yn #christian grey x you #smut #50 shades of gray #jamie dornan #christian grey series #dark themes

[its-time-to-write]

i hold it like a grudge - ch. 4

in case you didn’t know, i LOVE childhood friends-to-lovers. especially with Jamie.

table of contents not quite sure i’m there yet

If you breathe a little easier with the knowledge that Jamie’s gone, that is a secret between you and the universe. Keeley is more or less a fixture in your life, and she takes over your PR and socials. You talk about buying a house, but decide you like your flat. She drags you to Richmond games, but it only takes one for you to decide that you love it. Man City is still your team despite the fact that you still can’t wear their kits, but blue and red is decidedly easier to put on now that you only associate it with Keeley.

Time slips away quickly, and before you know it, the football season has both ended and started again. Keeley’s going to meet you at your flat to go to match week 3, so you close up shop early and head home to get ready.

You’re in the kitchen eating an apple when Keeley comes barreling in, breathless.

“Jamie’s back,” she wheezes.

You freeze, mid-bite. 

“Okay?” you respond.

“Just don’t want you to be fucking blindsided!” Keeley says.

You laugh. “Keels, everything his does is a blindside. I just don’t care anymore.”

“Alright, but if you see him skulking around, just remember I told you,” she warns.

You throw away your apple core. “Thank you for letting me know, but I truly do not give a shit. You ready to go?”

—

You’re not sure skulking is the word you’d use for what Jamie’s doing.

Because yes, Keeley was right to warn you, he did turn up. 

Technically, you haven’t spoken to him since the phone call where he informed you of your breakup. Even when he told you he was going to Manchester, you said one single word to him (which you don’t even count).

You can’t kick him out because he’s not doing anything. He shows up, purchases a dangly earring, and then doesn’t fucking leave. He just stands there and fucking talks.

The first thing out of his mouth besides “Can I look at those?” is a goddamn apology that is what, two years too late?

It’s heartfelt, it’s sincere, it’s not worth anything at all to you.

“Okay,” you say once he’s done. “Will that be all for you today?”

He opens his mouth, closes it, says, “No,” then launches into a story about Georgie and how she misses you and how Simon says if you tell them you’re visiting, he’ll make sure to bake all your favorites.

You don’t give him the courtesy of your visible attention, but you’re listening all the same. 

You have been keeping up with them, it’d be strange not to, but you haven’t physically seen either of them since you left. You send Georgie custom pieces every month, and something special for mother’s day. She calls with stories about your mum, and doesn’t expect you to respond, just lets you cry through the phone.

“I uh, visited your mum,” he says.

You whip back around, eyes wide but still refusing to speak.

He holds his hands up. “It were on the anniversary. Just went to put flowers down.”

You breathe in deep through your nose. You refuse to respond.

Jamie nods once, taps the counter and leaves.

—

He’s back the next day, but you’re with customers. They’re incredibly picky and for once, you’re happy to bring out every type of metal and font you have.

It takes a grand total of 45 minutes, but he stays and browses. It’s a small shop so there’s not much to look at. Jamie persists.

You wave them out the door then grab a broom to sweep the leaves they’ve tracked in.

Jamie takes a cue, (certainly not your cue) and starts talking again. This time it’s about Lust Conquers All. He rambles on for a few minutes about TV production and how everything was scripted before he says something that really catches your attention.

“So basically, I went on to piss of me dad. And it fucking worked, but then he texted me all this shit how I’m- well, not gonna say what he said. You know what he’s like,” he finishes.

You almost snap the broom handle. “Why the fuck does your dad have your number?” you ask before you can remember your ‘no talking to Jamie’ policy.

Jamie looks away. “Dunno.”

“Oh so he just found it somewhere and when he texted you you didn’t think to either block him or get a new phone with your millions of pounds?” 

Jamie shrugs. He’s still not looking at you but he says, “He’s my dad.”

A muscle in your arm twitches. You want to reach out to touch him, but you won’t. You’ve just crossed the talking boundary, and you still haven’t accepted his apology.

You sigh. “Do you even want me to argue this with you?”

“No one else fucking will,” Jamie says softly.

“Fine,” you say. “He’s a piece of shit. Blood means nothing. Find a better father figure.”

The corner of his mouth turns up at that. “Yeah. Might actually try that.”

He buys a gold band with a “J” stamped on it and leaves.

—

Jamie returns the next day a little more dejected than usual.

“If you’re going to be here, you can sit behind the counter. Don’t need you in the way if people are trying to buy,” you tell him as soon as he walks in.

He sits quietly for a whole hour, barely even shaking his leg. You sell enough for groceries for the next month, then check online sales. Jamie hasn’t spoken and you’re not going to initiate it.

“Yes,” you softly exclaim.

Jamie perks up at that. “Good news?”

“Uh huh,” you smile. “I could close this place for two years and live completely off my savings if I have to. I just got an order from America that’s going to get so much publicity.”

He nods. “Good for you,” he says. He means it, you can tell, but he’s still sad.

“I’m sorry,” he says.

You cock your head at him.

“I really am,” he continues. “It were a shitty thing to do. I should’ve at least- paid for your uni, or your flat, or some shit. I dunno.”

“It wasn’t about the money,” you reply calmly. “Fuck off with that shit. It was the fact that we made all these plans and then not only did you leave me without a warning, but you cheated on me instead of breaking up with me yourself. I used to give a shit why you did it, but I don’t anymore. I was mad because you handled it like a fucking child.”

Your tone of voice is chilling. It’s flat and clinical, without even a trace of discernible anger.

“It wasn’t because of you,” he says.

“Obviously it was a little bit because of me,” you retort.

“It wasn’t,” he insists. “I did it because I was fuckin’ stupid. I was fucking drunk and her picture’s been on my wall since I were thirteen, and the lads were egging me on.”

“Uh huh,” you say, unconvinced.

“Fine,” Jamie says. “Fine. My PR lad told me it’d be great for me brand and I thought fuck it, who gives a shit? I dunno.”

You nod. “Great. Now go fuck off. Find somewhere to go and someone else who will listen to your sob story because I sure as shit don’t care. I’m about to take lunch, so I have to lock up.”

“I did fuck off,” Jamie grits out. “Listened to you about father figures, went back to Ted and begged for a spot at Richmond. He said fucking no, so I don’t have shit to fuck off to.”

You pause, considering him for a moment before saying. “Nope, still don’t give a shit. Goodbye Jamie. I’m on break, so no customers in the shop.”

As you head to lunch, you hope he doesn’t remember you well enough to catch you lying.

—

“I don’t have time for this, Jamie,” you say as you hastily wrap up a package. “Don’t know if you can tell, but I’m swamped right now.”

“I can help,” he offers, and you have too many people at once to tell him no. 

As you weave around each other, talking to customers and wrapping up pre-made pieces, you’re reminded of the time he got out of training to come bag groceries at your cashier job. Took your manager an hour to notice, and even then he didn’t care enough to kick Jamie out.

You finally say goodbye to your last customer and flip the sign to closed. It’s dark outside and pouring rain. 

“Shit,” you say. “I left my umbrella at home.”

“You’re not walking home in that,” Jamie says disbelievingly.

“Well, I’m not sleeping here,” you reply.

Jamie squints at you. “I’m driving you. Car’s around the corner. I’ll go get it.” He points at you and says, “Don’t go anywhere.”

He’s gone before you can protest and if you’re honest with yourself, you can stand a few minutes with Jamie if it means not getting drenched. On the other side, now he’ll know where you live. 

The ride is silent. He’s playing fucking Islands in the Stream, and you’re pissed off because you know for a fact it’s from your old playlist. He pulls into your driveway and you say a clipped, “Thanks.”

“Oi.”

You sigh and pinch the bridge of your nose. 

Jamie asks, “You gonna be alright?”

“Yes,” you say. “Goodnight.”

“Mum will be awake all night,” he says. “She said you can call her, even if you don’t want to talk.”

You still. 

“You sure you’re alright?” he repeats softly.

It’s hard to respond when you’re choked up.

Here’s the thing about rain; your mum loved it. 

She used to open up the kitchen windows whenever it was coming on so the clean smell could fill the whole house. She would splash in puddles with you and Jamie when you two were in primary school while Georgie laughed from the porch. 

One of your favorite memories was at Georgie and Simon’s wedding. Jamie had started to make more money, already been playing football for a while. You were both eighteen and unaware of the fact that he had a Man City contract in the near future, nor that you had less than ten months left with your mum.

He’d paid for a private garden venue, just the five of you, with your mum practically swimming in her bridesmaid dress.

“I don’t get it,” you had fretted. “It fit last month.”

She patted your cheek and said, “Don’t worry about it, darling.”

You should have worried about it.

But as it was, it started raining during the reception and your mum had grabbed Georgie’s hand as they swung around, splashing in the grass.

Jamie had taken your hand and twirled you, but the thing you remember the most was the smile on your mum’s face. It was so bright, so happy and in hindsight, it made you wonder if she knew how fast the clock was ticking. Less than a year was far less than the six the doctors had all-but promised.

Tomorrow is the anniversary of her passing. You’ve never been able to call it death, because it just seems wrong, somehow. Or maybe saying it will make it more real. It’s been years, yes, but you know you’ll carry your grief with you everywhere you go. You hold it, cradle it in both hands close to your chest, afraid of what will happen if you try to let go.

So no, you’re not alright. And you’re especially less alright with the fact that apparently Jamie remembers things about your relationship and your life and maybe he didn’t just purge his brain of his first twenty years on earth like you tried to.

He says, “Let’s go inside,” but you only kind of hear him over the rush in your ears.

Drowning. 

I can do this, you think automatically as you hand Jamie your house key.

I can do this.

table of contents

#jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt x y/n #jamie tartt x you #jamie tartt #ted lasso

[n-fblog]

Reo, Nagi, and Differences from the Main Manga

Thoughts from Episode: Nagi, chapter 17

Reo:

This chapter was kind of needed for him to "abandon" his ego of becoming the best with Nagi (and we can see it sort of fading in the textbox) -- and simultaneously get rid of that growing attachment he has to Nagi. Really sad to see him say, "thank you" as if he doesn't even have the strength to break them apart himself (and he didn't)

The chameleon makes its first chronological appearance so we can clearly see him start to 'adapt' his thinking and playing even though it's not fully fleshed out yet, which is exciting! I wasn't sure if that was something he made up with Shidou before, but it's hilarious to know it all started with Nagi, AGAIN. Or maybe this is the manga trying to convey that he's changing himself to help Nagi walk away lol

His inferiority complex with Nagi makes itself kind of known here, with the monologue- "Those are the words *I* wanted to say,," but was unable to...

Somehow, Nagi being able to encourage Reo makes him the stronger one mentally -- which is tough for someone who subconsciously already thinks he can't go very far without Nagi skill-wise.

Poor guy... and he still has so far to go before he starts to think he can fight on his own.

Nagi:

Man, this chapter pretty much confirms that their mischaracterization and miscommunication goes both ways lol. Nagi spitefully admonishes that he isn't Reo's 'toy' when Reo flips from "wanting to be the best" to "wanting to stay together"-- These guys have such a hard time acknowledging their friendship outside of football, it's actually painful.

I can't tell if he made any sort of connection betweey 'toy' and being Reo's 'treasure'. But that's almost definitely a metaphor on Reo's part. What a lot of people misuse is that Reo calls Nagi his 'treasured possession' when I really, truly don't think he meant viewing Nagi as a literal object. But how else do you expect a rich boy who's only been shown love through material things to describe something he values? *(see tags for a rant on this lol)

I do wish we'd gotten more insight into how he felt when he heard what Reo said in the moment, but this chapter was already long as it is. I do think Nagi's expressions sort of speak for themselves.

I mean, he straight up looks like he's about to cry here. 

I would argue that part of Nagi's promise to 'stay together' during the entrance actually includes 'believing in each other' like he says here:

 And if that's the case, then what did Reo's claim of abandonment mean to him? Was it that Reo didn't believe in Nagi's newfound drive to win? Or was he mad that Reo didn't believe in himself? I think it's a bit of both, but I really want to see more thoughts in the manga or from the fandom

Blue Lock vs. Episode: Nagi

So... Nagi definitely seems more angry in this chapter, right? When you revisit Ch. 76, you can see that Nagi is a lot more apologetic towards Reo

( Here you see him lament not growing alongside Reo, but fired up and excited to work with Isagi)

vs. what we saw this chapter

(Nagi saying sorry and acknowledging he's changed, but looking less toward the future and more resisting the past)

Maybe this is just a difference in translations, but "I can't [am not able to] go back" feels a little different from "I won't go back" -- the former just feels like an admission (to Reo), while the latter feels a lot more confrontational, a downright refusal to go along with what Reo wants.

And that's fine, but it does reshape how I thought about Nagi, and I think it really emphasizes just how pissed he was at Reo by the end of 2nd Selection.

This reframes their interaction during U-20 tryouts for me. I originally thought it was mostly setting up Reo's chameleon style defense and Reo's internal conflict (which it is) but EpiNagi really just shows that Nagi also has a ways to go before they reunite in Manshine

I think this could be the panel (from Ch. 107, 3rd Selection) where Nagi forgives Reo -- it's the point where Reo sort of shows he understands Nagi's drive to win, and that he doesn't value staying together over improving anymore. After that, they have no issues (in Nagi's eyes) so it was probably easy to imagine walking up to Reo during MC v BM and asking for his help ... but man, we still have a long way til then, and I can't wait for EpiNagi to probably prove me wrong :p

#idk i wrote this all at like 2 am whenever ch. 17 first came out #RANT: I know it's obvious to Reo fans but this mischaracterization of Reo is such a pain every time. Of course he was using his talents for #but his main draw to Nagi was literally the fact that Nagi treated him normally/even coldly #as well as Nagi's obliviousness to his own skill #now that Nagi can recognize how amazing he is: that uniqueness is no longer a 'treasure' of Reo's #honestly the treasure thing could mean so many things it would have to be its own post #Rant over lol) #blue lock #bllk #nagireo #reonagi #EDIT: i forgot like a whole paragraph in my 3rd section lol

[crazyunsexycool]

My little love

chapter 12

Pairing: bucky barnes x enhanced!reader

Word count: 4.1k

Warning: canon level violence, mentions of blood, use of syringe/needle, choking, horrible living conditions (especially for a child), sad everyone, crying, hurt Steve

A/N: SURPRISE!!! I wrote this in like a day so if it’s not great I’m sorry but I think you’ll like it. It was also not my intention to release it so soon but I couldn’t help myselfWe finally meet sweet baby boy Barnes aka bubba. His relationship with Lottie is definitely something we will look into in the next chapter. I’d really love to hear what you think!

Series masterlist

Ch 11

The jet had taken you to the helicarrier. It was expected that this mission would be just as big as the mission in which you found Lottie. Now you readied yourself to give hydra some more hell as you entered the place that Bucky had suffered the most in. Your thoughts were mostly on the other Barnes child that you were yet to meet and hoped was alright. At the last raid you had only gone into the facility once it had been cleared. Your job was as the team medic. This time you’d be fighting alongside the team.

You were paired up with Steve after Bucky argued that you’d be better off with him. The truth was that it would probably make him more reckless and you had to make sure he made it back home. The cold wind hit your face as the jet’s door opened. Steve did a quick check with everyone and then you were off in the middle of the frozen unknown.

Tony, Sam, Vision and Rhodey did a quick fly over as the rest of the team pushed forward. There were only a few guards that were taken out quickly and quietly. Steve looked to you once Tony disabled the security to open up the metal door. The element of surprise is the only thing you had on your side, hopefully. As soon as the door opened Bucky stepped up and walked in first. You could see it was hard for him being back here. He directed Clint, Wanda and Nat in one direction while he and Thor went in another. You and Steve took the main elevator down into the deep belly of the building that was built into a mountain. It was where hydra kept the winter soldier and no doubt where Bucky’s other child would be.

As soon as the door to the elevator opens Steve stands in front of you, shield up, ready to protect you if needed. You hold up one of the guns you brought with you. As you inch forward you see two long hallways full of doors that most likely lead to cells. Steve puts two fingers up to his eyes and then points toward one hallway and then points at you before doing the same and pointing at himself. You nod and start walking fast, peeking through the small windows in order to see inside.

Empty. One after another each cell is empty and your heart sinks. An alarm breaks the ever growing silence of the hall previously filled with only your footsteps.

“Have you found anything?” Tony’s voice crackles through the speakers. “It’s getting interesting up here.”

“Nothing yet.”

“Empty on my side.” You reply.

“You have people heading your way, Y/L/N. So do you Rogers.” Nat informs you.

You get to the end of the hall where there is one last door but it has no window. Pressing your ear you don’t hear anything but you have to be sure. You run two fingers along the edge of the door where the inner mechanism of the lock is and you hear it click away. The door opens easily enough and it leads to another dimly lit hallway. Flashbacks to the day you found the three boys run vividly in your mind.

“Secret passageway, I’m heading in.” You announce on the comms.

“Y/L/N, wait for me you don’t know if it’s a trap.”

“I can’t do that, Rogers. You know what happened last time.” You reply as you walk in.

There are less doors here and you make quick work of checking the other cells. As you get to the end you find one that doesn't have a window. You think it’s another hallway so you unlock the door and take a cautious step inside.

“I think I found the cell he’s being kept in.”

“I’m on my way.” Bucky answers in a hurry.

You take a small flashlight out of one of your pockets and turn it on. As you look around you see a water and food bowl on the floor as if they kept a dog in there instead of a person. There’s no bed, just a few blankets on the floor. There’s a toilet that looks like it doesn’t even work and nowhere for light to shine through. There’s a camera in the top corner and if you line up with it the room looks exactly how it did in the video feed the previous night. There’s a metal tube running along the wall furthest from the door with a chain attached to it. The cuff on the end looks so small and you swallow thickly at the thought. The chain scrapes against the concrete floor lightly and you remember that he can make himself invisible. You step in a little bit closer and kneel.

“Hi sweetie. I know you’re in here. I’m not gonna hurt you but I gotta be able to see you. Can you let me see you?” Nothing, for a second you thought you were talking to an empty room and then you heard it, a small breath. “I promise you won’t be in trouble if you let me see you. Would you like to get out of here? You can come home with me.”

A little flicker of something appears before you and then it’s gone. You smile at the Not so empty room.

“Would you like that? To have a home? I have a baby at home. She would probably love to have someone to play with.”

“A baby?” A little voice fills the room and just like that you see him.

It takes everything in you to not break down and cry. He looked just like Lottie had when you found her. Severely underweight, to the point that you could see all of his ribs, sunken eyes and he looked exhausted. His hair though was down around his shoulders and a bit lighter than Bucky’s, and his eyes were the exact same shade as the other two Barnes. He was shivering since he only had some ripped up pants that were a bit too big.

“Well she isn’t a baby, baby. But she’s my baby. You could be my baby too. I’ll take care of you.”

“No one taked care of me before.” He responds, his voice slightly shaky.

You close your eyes for a second as a few tears break free and then he gasps. The chain that held him captive scrapes against the floor and you open your eyes to see shadows on the wall. When you turn around there are hydra agents behind you ready to gun you down. The room is filled with gunfire, bullets that never reach you fall to the floor as you stand between yourself and the boy you protecting.

You turn your own gun on them, taking the group down quickly. Turning you can’t see him again but you can still see the chain.

“Y/L/N are you ok?”

“I’m fine but I need back up. I found him.”

You kneel again and unlock the cuff from his ankle and he reappears. His eyes go wide as he flexed his now free ankle.

“I’m going to pick you up ok, can you hold on tight for me?”

He nods his head and wraps his arms around your neck and his legs around your waist. You take the blanket that had been on the floor and wrap him up in it before turning your metal bracers into a shield for his back and head. With that in place you head out of the room. A speaker comes on and a man starts speaking Russian. Suddenly the grip around your neck gets tighter.

When you pull back you notice that the boy’s eyes have glazed over, as if he’s not in control and although his hands are smaller he still has the super soldier serum running through his veins. There’s no doubt that hydra would have found a way to enhance him even more.

“Y/N, where are you? They spoke similar words than the ones used to trigger me before. I’m not sure who they’re controlling. Can you get somewhere safe?” Bucky’s worried voice came over the comms but you couldn’t answer because you were being choked by a very strong child.

You feel around the belt you had on until you find the pocket you’re looking for and take out a syringe. The needle goes into his little arm and the grip around your throat loosens. His head rests against your shoulder and you cough as you try to catch your breath.

“Y/N? Can you hear me? Does anyone have eyes on her?”

“I’m here.” You groan out as you start to head toward the main door. “I’m really going to need back up.”

“Duck.” Steve says from the doorway and you do as he says just as he sends his shield flying. Two more hydra agents fall behind you. “Is that him?”

You nod as you wrap your arms around his tiny frame.

“Let’s get you both out of here.”

Steve’s blood was on your hands.

You weren’t sure exactly how it happened. He had thrown the shield in your direction so that you could keep pushing forward when an explosion rocked the side of the building. A dozen or so men appeared out of nowhere and you were left with Steve, his shield and an unconscious child in your hands. Steve fought with everything he had to give you an out. As soon as you saw Sam you gave him the sleeping child and ran back to help Steve. Somehow it was too late. He was gravely injured, the last time you saw him that bad he went toe to toe with Bucky in a helicarrier. You patched him up as best as you could and Tony flew him back to the jet.

Now you sat in the medbay of the helicarrier waiting for an update on him. Your leg bounces uncontrollably as the anxiety of not knowing if he’ll make it takes over. The others are also waiting with you. Nat and Clint sit side by side. Wanda and Vision stood against a wall while Sam and Thor sat next to you. Tony was somewhere looking through the information retrieved from the now demolished hydra base. Bruce was monitoring the unconscious Barnes child you’d saved and Bucky was sitting with him.

Or he had been, Bucky stood by the door and waved you over once you looked up.

“He’s awake and crying. He keeps asking for the nice lady.” He tells you quietly. You turn back unsure of what to do.

“Go, I’ll let you know once we have an update.”

“Thanks Nat.” You said and headed toward the lab down the hall.

Bucky stopped you and held up your overnight bag.

“Maybe you should clean up a bit. I think he’d freak out a bit more if he saw you like this.”

“You’re right. I’ll be quick.”

*******

Fifteen minutes later you looked more presentable, more you. As you got closer to the lab you could still hear him crying while Bucky tried to sooth him. The moment the glass doors slid open both pairs of electric blue eyes were on you. One of them however, we're red and puffy. He cleaned his tears with the back of his hand as he sniffled.

“Hi, why are you crying?” You said as you got closer to the bed he was on.

“I’m sorry.”

“Why are you sorry, honey?” You ask once you sit down next to him. Bucky stands and gives you some space.

“I hurted you.”

“But you didn’t mean to.”

“The bad man said to. He has my baby.”

You freeze at his words, it couldn’t be what you thought it was. Bucky seemed to have heard the same thing because he walked back into the small space.

“What do you mean your baby, bub?”

“She’s little, like this.” He held his arm like he was holding a newborn. “If I’m bad he hurts her. If I’m good he lets me hold her. Haven’t holded her in a long time.”

“Ok, how about you rest and we will try to find your baby.”

“Can she be your baby too?” He looks up at you hoping you’ll say yes.

“Of course she can.” You run your hand over his hair. “Why don’t you lay down now and I’ll stay with you.”

He does as he’s told and he grabs your hand. You hum a lullaby as he drifts off to sleep. Bruce walks in shortly after he starts snoring softly holding up the dna kit. After he takes the swab he needs he walks back to his side. While you wait for the results which you know will say Bucky is the father, you head to the hallway.

“Hey, Steve is stable. He’ll just need a few days to rest and he’ll be good as new.” Nat says once the glass doors are closed. “How is the little man doing?”

“He apologized for hurting me. But I’m worried, he said he had a baby and that the bad man would hurt the baby if he didn’t do what they said.”

“Do you think there’s another Barnes baby out there?”

“No, I hope not. Maybe the baby he’s talking about is Lottie. They could have put both of them in cryo and that’s why he can’t remember when he last saw her.”

“Let’s hope it’s that. I’ll give you guys some space. We should be back home in about thirty minutes.”

“Thanks Nat.” You say as she walks away.

As soon as she’s gone you bury your face in Bucky’s chest and cry. It had been a very overwhelming day and on top of that you saw your best friend almost die. Doing what he does best and sacrificing himself not only for you but for Bucky’s kids.

“It’s ok sugar, let it out.” Bucky whispers as he moves his hand up and down your back gently.

Bucky had called your dad before you landed and asked him to not bring Lottie to the hanger because of Steve. Unfortunately Ed informed him that Lottie was already aware, or at least he thought so. She had another vision and kept asking for Steve.

Once the jet landed the medical team moved Steve into one of the rooms in the medbay. You and Bruce moved your own patient into another room. The rest of the team went either to the medbay to get checked out or to their own apartments to clean up and rest. It didn’t take long for your dad to find you watching over your new son, the dna match was positive. Although you didn’t need it to know that this sweet boy was Bucky’s child.

“So I have a grandson now.”

“Seems like it.” You look up to give him a sad, tired smile.

“Come here my sweet girl.” Your dad hugged you tight. “Bucky told me what happened. Are you ok?”

“Physically yeah, but to see someone I care for hurt like that… It's just overwhelming. I’ll be alright though. As soon as Steve is awake I’ll be fine.”

“He will be. From what Bucky explained, the serum will help him recover. Why don’t you try and rest? I can stay here if you want me too.”

“I appreciate it but I can’t leave him. He knows me, Bucky and Bruce. I think if he saw a stranger here he would freak out.” You say as you look over your shoulder at the little boy.

“Ok well Charlotte was also asking for you. She wants to see her mama.”

You look back up at your dad, overwhelmed by everything and unsure of what to do.

“Go see Lottie, she’s the only one awake and she wants to see you. Your friends will let you know when Steve is up and I’ll stay here. The minute he starts to wake up I’ll get you.”

“Ok, yeah. I’ll do that. Thanks dad.” You hug him again and head back to your apartment.

Bucky and Lottie were in the living room. He was holding on to her as he cooed sweet reassuring words at the toddler’s worry about her uncle Steve. Still Lottie sniffled, not understanding that Steve needed to rest for a little bit longer.

“Hey.” You say softly.

Both father and daughter’s attention goes to you. Lottie slips out of Bucky’s lap and runs to you. Her little arms wrap around one of your legs. It’s obvious she’s been crying for a while, her cheeks were tinted pink and her eyes were red and puffy.

“Mama, Steeb owie.” She said as she pointed toward her side, the same place Steve had been injured.

“I know sweet Angel.” You picked her up and kissed her cheeks “Stevie is sleeping now but you’ll see him soon.”

“Steeb is night night?”

“Yes, Steve is night night.”

“Bubba home?” She asks, her blue eyes wide as she looks at you.

You look over at Bucky who just shrugs quickly and then nods towards the door.

“Maybe he’ll like having someone closer to his age around.”

“Yes, Bubba's home.”

She points at the door and smiles. Bucky stands and walks towards the door, opening it and letting you go first.

When you get to the medbay the first thing you notice is your dad as well as Nat and Clint having a conversation. It stops when you get closer to them. With a guilt ridden expression your dad turns to you.

“Sweetheart,” he says when you’re close enough. “I’m sorry I messed up.”

“What do you mean?”

“I went to the bathroom and when I came back he was gone.”

“What do you mean he was gone?”

“He just disappeared. I don’t know what happened but I swear I didn’t even hear the door open or close.” He looked over your shoulder at Bucky. “I really am sorry.”

“Take her,” you turn to Bucky and hand Lottie over. “This is my fault. I forgot to tell you he can turn invisible, he might still be in there.”

You walk to the door and open it slowly and sure enough the bed is empty. The door closes softly and you make your way to the bed. Your hand feels around the bed and sure enough there’s no one there. Without much of an option you look around the room but don’t find anything so you sit on the floor.

“Hey bub, it’s just me again. Will you let me see you? I promise you’re safe and no one is going to hurt you. I’m sorry I wasn’t here when you woke up. I bet it was scary being alone in a different place.”

You still don’t see him but you feel him slide into your lap. His head rests against your shoulder and you follow the invisible form until you find his hand. He squeezes your hand and you can feel his small fingers trying to intertwine with yours.

“When you’re ready, my baby is here and she wants to meet you.”

It took a few minutes but sure enough, starting at his toes he became fully visible. His uncertain blue eyes looked up at you.

“Can I see the baby now?” He asks quietly.

“Of course.”

As if on queue Bucky opens the door and steps aside so that Lottie can walk in. She was more on the cautious side as she walked in, like she knew she had to be gentle. The sweet boy in your lap sits up and blinks a few times before looking up at you.

“Hi baby.” He says as he gets up and walks toward Lottie.

He holds his hand out and Lottie takes it and they just look at each other. Studying each other’s faces for a moment before he hugs her. Lottie brings her hand up to his cheek and pats it and he starts crying while holding her tighter.

“Hey bub it’s ok.” Bucky crouches down and comforts him. “Lottie is your baby sister. She’s been waiting for you.”

“My baby.” He says in between sniffles.

You and Bucky trade another look over the embracing children. Both of you were still confused. You knew Lottie would know of him because of her vision but you needed to know how he really knew her.

“Hey, Steve’s awake.” Nat said after poking her head in. Her eyes softened as she looked at the two kids.

“Hey sweet Angel, wanna go see Steve?”

“Steeb up mama?” Lottie asked once they let each other go.

“Yeah, let’s go see him. You can come too bubs.” You get up and open your arms. He looks between you and Lottie already walking out happily and wraps his arms around your neck again. You tense a bit but get up and walk out, following Bucky.

“Steeb!”

“Hi sweetheart.” Steve says from the hospital bed he was. He tries to put on his game face for her and you. Bucky picked her up and sat her down next to Steve.

“You have to be gentle, Lottie. Remember Steve had an owie.”

“Owie.” She whispered as she gently touched the right side of his midsection.

“Did I hurted him?” The boy in your arms whispered in your ear. You knew both Steve and Bucky heard him.

“No sweet boy, you didn’t hurt him.”

“Hi bud. My name is Steve, do you have a name?”

He turned in Steve’s direction, sad blue eyes taking in the scene of Lottie giving him a hug.

“Soldat.” He said softly.

The three of you were saddened after hearing his answer. Bucky turned away from you as he fought back tears. Steve cleared his throat and you held him tighter.

“Would you like a name? Just like Lottie has a name.” You say.

He just nods at you, eyes a bit brighter for a moment.

“Ok, we’ll think of a good name.” You kiss his temple and he pulls back scared at the contact. “I’m sorry I didn’t mean to scare you.”

He doesn’t say anything, instead he chooses to hide his face in the crook of your neck.

“How about Marcus?” Bucky said as he sat down on the couch.

Lottie and her brother were inseparable. It had been hard enough to get her to leave Steve’s room but there was no way she would leave him behind. Both of them were currently sleeping, sharing her bed and snuggling.

“I don’t know if he doesn't look like a Marcus. What about Thomas?”

“Sam’s ego would get bigger than it already is, pass.”

You were laying down on the couch with your legs hanging over the armrest. Your dad was gone and the compound was quiet. It was very late at night but neither you nor Bucky could sleep even though you were exhausted.

“What about Henry? I’ve always loved that name.”

“Grant.” Bucky added. “Henry Grant Barnes?”

You tilted your head back a bit to look at him. His eyes were already on you as he waited for an answer.

“I like it. Hopefully he will too.” You say just before the door to Lottie’s room opens and closes again.

A semitransparent child stands at the edge of the entrance of the living room. The back of his hand wiping away tears.

“Hey, bub what’s wrong?” Bucky asked.

“The bad man took me away. He said I couldn’t see my baby again.” He started crying again as he walked closer to Bucky. He was still hesitant to trust any men but he was slowly opening up to Bucky.

“C’mere.” Bucky opened his arms, his son cautiously walked even closer to Bucky and let his father pull him into his lap. “It was just a bad dream bub. We aren’t going to let anyone hurt you or Lottie again.”

Two pairs of sad blue eyes looked at each other. One of them blinked owlishly as they fought against sleep.

“The bad man can’t get me?”

“No, we won’t let him.”

“Ok.” The sweet little boy replied before laying his head against Bucky’s chest and closing his eyes. Quickly falling asleep in the comfort of his father’s arms.

Bucky knew the next few weeks and even months wouldn’t be easy. You knew it too, especially if they already had him ready to follow orders with a few words. For Bucky the experience had been traumatic so he can’t even imagine what it would be for someone so young. It was all he knew. So of course he clung to the first person that showed him any kindness and luckily it had been you.

You both knew that whatever came next would be challenging but you were willing to fight to make sure both kids never had to experience anything as horrible as hydra again.

Ch 13

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[angelsanarchy]

Alkaline: Euronymous x Y/N Series CH 16

Tagging: @ophelialaufey@madamemaximoff06@forever-not-gonna-sink@ajmiila02@liquidsmoothdomme@shady-the-simp @auggiethecreator @tempt-ress @blacksoul-27

TW: Mentions of blood and suicide

After Pelle had killed himself and Necrobutcher quit the band, Oystein knew he had to make his next moves very carefully if he wanted to keep it together. Finding Pelle like he did broke his heart. He knew he had pain. He knew that he was down and out but a part of him never truly expected he would go through with it.

He knew the needed to get out of this house. After sensationalizing Pelle's death, the rumor mill about him being a brain eating occultist was running rampant which only served to give Mayhem more publicity. No matter how much he wanted to capitalize on it, being in the house now just felt wrong.

Most of their stuff had been cleared out, he was still packing up his own room but Hellhammer had already gotten his shit out. He said the house felt haunted and even though Oystein gave him shit about it, he often found himself standing at the doorway of Pelle's room, staring at the blood stain on the floor. The path of blood that led to the stained wooden boards that his brains were still embedded in deeply.

He knew that what he was doing was wrong but if he stopped and let himself feel this, he wasn't sure he would ever recover. The sound of tires screeching outside snapped him out of his thoughts and he could see Y/n's car carrying dust from how fast she just came to a halt.

"I don't need this right now-" Euronymous was carrying a box in his arms when Y/n's hand slammed into the side of his cheek sending him stumbling backwards into the car, dropping the box from his hand.

"YOU PIECE OF ABSOLUTE SHIT! HOW COULD YOU!?" She was screaming and crying as he brought his hand to his cheek that was throbbing. He couldn't believe she had just punched him.

"Jørn told me what you did! Skull necklaces? Have you no fucking soul at all?! He was a fucking person Oystein! He had people who loved him and cared about him!" She continued to cry through her anger and disgust.

"Please tell me this isn't real. I need you to tell me that this is all just to keep your image because I can't-" She started to hyperventilate and Oystein panicked.

"Y/n breathe, you're going to pass out!" He reached out and tried to steady her by the arms.

"Tell me they aren't really Pelle. Please tell me that I didn't have feelings for someone who would do something so callous and disgusting." She pleaded with him and Oystein nodded his head.

"They aren't! It's not him, I promise! Please just breathe." Oystein tried to comfort but she pushed him off of her, falling to her knees. He knelt down in front of her and extended his hand only to be slapped away.

"Don't touch me!" Oystein set back on his ass away from her so she could settle down but she just resumed crying silently.

"He was your friend...how could you let this happen." She gritted her teeth. The truth was, Oystein did feel responsible. He knew how bad Pelle was. He knew that he was experiencing an extra low-low and he had left him by himself to go see his parents for a free meal.

"There was nothing I could do Y/n. You know Pelle didn't want to be alive. He was fucked up-"

"Yeah! He needed help! Not encouragement. Not half-assed friends." Y/n wiped her face tearing a picture from her back pocket and tossing it at Oystein. It was the photo that Pelle let her keep all those years ago when they had done the corpse make up for the first time. Oystein felt pain in his chest. Thing's felt so simple then. He missed when he could terrified people with Pelle and actually make Y/n smile at him.

"You have become such an awful excuse of a human being." She looked up at him and he took his eyes off of the photo to meet her disappointed gaze.

"You shouldn't be here. There's nothing here for you." Oystein said keeping his tone calm knowing that there was nothing he could possibly say to provide her any comfort. They were too far gone now.

"You're right. There isn't." She pushed herself off the ground and Oystein rises to his feet in front of her, leaving the picture on the ground.

"I just had to see for myself. I had to know that there was no going back." Y/n had wiped her face again, this time leaving a smear of dirt from the ground on her chin. Oystein wished she hadn't come by. He wished he could have left this house and all the pain with it.

"I hope the world you've created burns to the ground and when it's all over, you realize all the people you burned with it. I hope it's all worth it in the end." She sniffled and turned her back on him, walking back to her car.

"You just don't understand Y/n. Please let me-" He tried but she cut him off.

"Go to hell Oystein." She gritted through her teeth before starting her car and peeling back down the road away from him, not bothering to look back.

Oystein knelt down to pick up the photo and all the things that had spilled out of the box when he was hit. He didn't think he could hurt anymore than he already did but this felt permanent. This felt as permanent as losing Pelle. He could feel pieces of him dying and how alone he was. He didn't need to go to hell because he was already there.

#R!Euronymous #R!Euronymous x Y/n #Film: Lords of Chaos #One Shot Series #Alkaline #Alkaline Series #Rory Culkin #Culkin Cult #16/35

[madarasgirl]

A Night for Hunting Ch.3- Alucard

T/W: 18+, Alucard (Ultimate) x F!Reader, he is a horny creep, yandere, stalker, trespassing, no smut, noncon touch, fear play, sexual harassment, rape mentioned (but no rape).

Words: 2174 On AO3

The vampire plopped onto the couch where you were seated moments ago and stared at you expectantly. This was too uncomfortable. Not only did he follow you home at night, now he also took to trespassing into your home, which was once your only safe haven from him. You had plans to wash some fruits for your novel-reading time to finish up the day since you didn’t have work tonight. What now? Was he only going to stare? Not knowing what to do, you remained near the door with your back to a wall and stared back in dismay.

At least he wasn’t covered in blood this time. It took an absurd amount of effort and research into various at-home methods to remove the majority of the blood he left on your couch the last time he squeezed in. If you looked very closely, the faint residuals of the blood stains were still visible.

“Why didn’t you run last week?” The vampire began with a smirk. The depraved beast must have been looking forward to the chase again, to making you gasp for breath and cry. Standing up straighter, you pledged not to give him that satisfaction anymore.

“I’m tired of running.”

“Were you not frightened?” He inquired with a raised brow, folding gloved hands over his lap.

“You’re the one constantly sniffing the air. You know I’m aghast by your presence. I’d rather you leave, but what can I do?” Oh, you just wanted to read your book and escape all of this.

It was like you told him a funny joke and he chuckled smugly as he placed his hat to the side along with his sunglasses. Golden-orange pools swirled as his eyes met yours. They were a different colour? "I only wish to observe you. I will not interfere with your night." 

That was blatantly a lie. He was already doing plenty to mess with your night. Your lips formed a taut line, which your unwanted guest’s smiling eyes went to immediately. You snapped.

"Don't you have better things to do than to stalk some nameless woman? Someone to shoot?" You eyed the two gleaming weapons that were poorly concealed in distress and shivered. Why does a vampire need guns? "Some poor soul to bite?" 

For some reason, this monster insisted on coming to terrorize you, whether that was by stalking you through the night or invading your home. And for some reason, he didn’t kill or bite you despite his twisted nature and the seasons passing. He spent quite a lot of time on you. Why me?

You didn’t expect him to reply, but he did maintain the face-splitting grin. All was silent except for the air conditioner coming on. Keeping one eye on him, you shuffled past his seated form to retrieve your reading material and snack. You settled on the other couch because your favourite spot was occupied by the intruder.

Pulling up a plush blanket, you threw some grapes into your mouth and flipped to where you left off to start reading. 

--------------------

The minutes turned to hours.

True to his word, all he did was watch you, but he was a HUGE bother. It was spooky to have inhuman eyes track your every move as you took bathroom breaks and refilled your beverage. You couldn’t even focus on the story despite reading the same lines repeatedly. 

There were dark bags under your eyes from the lack of rest and you sagged in the cushy seat, but you didn’t want to lose your precious night off because of this unbidden guest. Stifling a yawn, you got up to prepare tea for yourself, getting out your favourite tea set and loose leaves to steep.

It was an Oriental black tea, his sensitive nose could differentiate. So you wanted something strong tonight, something that’ll keep you up? The vampire was comfortable on the couch, even if it was small for him. Your body heat seeped into him from the cushions and he was surrounded by your scent. He leaned back to stare at you through hooded eyes.

He had watched you flip the pages, pleased with the knowledge of your thoughts jumbling as you fruitlessly tried to ignore him and absorb the plot. He heard your drizzling stream when you relieved yourself in the bathroom. He observed how you licked your lips after taking sips from your drink, the way your gaze repeatedly flickered up in his direction to ensure no misbehaviour on his part. He scented the air and basked in your discomfort, relishing in how your heart thumped adorably quick. He wanted to touch you.

He appeared behind you in the kitchen and you jumped, nearly dropping the delicate glass and scalding yourself with burning liquid if he didn’t catch your hand in time. “Careful, little one,” he murmured. His light touch tightened after he helped you set down the fragile teapot. “Were you not going to offer your guest a drink?” You froze in shock, nails digging into the pads of your palms.

He pressed close and rumbled deeply, nuzzling the back of your head. The air conditioner fizzed off as he traced small circles on the back of your hand. The vague sound of laughter and cheers of your neighbour’s visitors carried into your unit as another door slammed shut from down the hall.

"I long for the company of a woman. It has been long since I indulged in the pleasures of human flesh." He sighed and guided your hips around so you faced him. He towered over you, the mesmerizing pits of orange and yellow continuing to spin as you locked eyes. So beautiful. Like you could fall into them forever.

"It's no wonder you have to force your company on one," you hissed at him in displeasure, though you felt no bravado. You were paralyzed with fear at the realization－this was it, why he plagued you all these months. The beast was going to rape you. You had to fight, you had to fight.

It had been too long since he last fed from the warm veins of a human, or plunged into one’s heated depths. He ached with need, caging you against the countertop with lanky arms, and you arched your back in a futile attempt to pull away to put distance between your faces. He was smiling again when he placed a silky gloved hand behind your head to pull you closer. You took quick, shallow breaths, your heart now hammering against your ribs, the hairs on your skin standing on end as his face came inches from yours. He blinked slowly, his sultry gaze running up and down to study your features. 

…The warm whites of the kitchen lights caught his sharp visage, casting shadows over the ridge of his cheekbones and hollows of his eyes. His jaw was strong and well-defined. His lashes were so long, his look too suggestive. To be honest, the creature was strikingly handsome when his face wasn’t twisted into that sadistic grin.

"Oh?" He read your mind and snickered. "You think I'm handsome?" He looked much too pleased, as if he needed any confirmation. Any sighted person can attest to this being’s unholy beauty.

Don’t look at him! Recalling your past experiences of him charming you into immobility during his hunts, you clenched your eyes and began to hyperventilate. He wasn’t hypnotizing you this time, but your body was shutting down, unable to muster up the resolve to try to fight or flee. You only stood rooted to your spot in a dreamlike state, distantly experiencing what was occurring as if it was happening to someone else. The vampire could just force himself on you and there was nothing you could do to protect yourself.

The nightwalker frowned, knowing that you were assuming the worst from him, but he couldn’t help but spoil himself with a taste. How was it possible that anyone would smell this mouthwatering?

He stuck his face into your neck and inhaled, then licked at your throat whilst running his palms down your sides, all the way past your thighs to wrap around the backs of your knees. He purred. Your breath caught, so filled with fear you didn't dare breathe or look up at him. 

You tolerated his touch as he stroked down your legs and back up to caress your abdomen through your clothes. You tolerated the obscene wet muscle dancing across your throat, the husky sounds of him breathing you in.

You were just plain scared. The vampire didn’t catch the heady fragrance of arousal at all.

Tears trickled down your face, which the vampire eagerly lapped up. You braved peeking out at the floor, although your abuser took up most of your field of vision. "Are you going to bite me now?" 

He paused to deliberate the question. "Not unless you'd like me to. Tell me, do you fancy vampires, Dear?" His voice was sensual, rolling over you in a wave and causing you to tremble, if only it weren’t for the blasphemy of the question.

What?

The monster continued, easily disregarding the impropriety of his inquiry. "I enjoy when you scream. You have the most captivating voice. I can make you scream a different tune if you are willing," he pronounced in a coy manner. Your eyes finally lifted back to him in shock.

“I will not do something as distasteful as forcing you.” He was shameless with his outrageous flirtation (harassment). The resonant bass of his voice reverberated in your chest. “Allow me to show you a good time. I shall bring you to nirvana.”

You gawked at your oppressor in abasement with huge eyes. You stuttered, not knowing how to respond at first to the proposition. With your frightful trance broken at last, your hands darted out to shove at his chest, though it did nothing to displace him. “Absolutely not. Never,” you vowed.

Your neighbours laughed merrily again and he finally withdrew. “Shame, though I suspect you will offer yourself to me in the future.” --------------------

It took awhile to settle, but after taking a seat on shaky legs, you finally caught your breath. You couldn’t even look at the vampire after his foul attempted seduction.

You had been secretly investigating the rental of another apartment. Perhaps you could stay at your friends’ or parents’ houses while you searched for yet another home. But given how quickly he found you this time, you didn’t want to bring your loved ones trouble with this abomination. 

This situation was too dangerous. Playing along to this nighttime visitor’s games simply wasn’t a sustainable arrangement in the long-term. What else could you do to get rid of him?

Your frantic mind wondered how quickly you could seal a deal with a new landlord and arrange to have your modest belongings moved, all without his knowledge. You finally had enough savings scraped together and spent it all on the last move. How long would it take to earn enough again to move even further away? Maybe a small town on the other end of England will work this time, or perhaps you needed to flee to another country? No matter, you can borrow the funds needed to move —as long as it would free you from your stalker, it would be worth it. 

"Don't bother, little one. I can find your new home again easily if you move. There will be no point. Save your energy for more meaningful endeavors." He regarded you with his cheek squished against a fist, an almost bored look on his face.

He can read my mind. And any of your plans. You almost cried, but you didn’t want to let him see your misery, lest he enjoy it. Your eyes stung from the unshed tears. Pulling several Kleenexes from their box, you scrubbed your nose before blowing it loudly. You briefly considered going to the police for protection, but who would believe you? They would sooner send you to a psychiatric facility. 

He tittered, "Humans." The monster said your name unexpectedly and your attention snapped to him in surprise. Cursed ruby eyes saw through you, yet you couldn’t read his expression. "I will not harm you. This I promise." 

Was that really true? He could do anything to you, and you’d be defenceless against him if he chose to violate your space again, like he did just now and the entire time this past year. But then again, you were still alive, albeit scared out of your mind. Looking down at yourself, you only felt vulnerable and apprehensive. You recoiled when he reached out for you again, your knees buckling, and you found yourself held up only by the vampire’s strength..

Despite his savage expression, his touch was soft, the back of his fingers barely brushing your cheeks. You weren’t able to determine whether he was sincere or merely toying with you yet again, so you eyed him with mistrust.

"I am Alucard," he purred once more, sunset eyes flashing with fervour.

~To be Continued~

--------------------

Notes: Unless Integra commanded Alucard to fuck someone, IMO he wouldn’t force himself on an unwilling partner. Alucard is a lover, not a rapist, and after centuries of existing (and fucking randoms), he’s had plenty of orgasms of his own and is much more dedicated to giving his partners a mind-blowing experience, especially when his heightened senses (SMELL) let him enjoy their orgasms too.

No, he wasn’t going to bite us, but he 1000% would have fucked us silly if we gave him permission, without giving us the chance to think about taking it back.

The vulnerability and helplessness that comes with the territory of potential rape by an unknown male is all encompassing, taking over all other thought processes. I hope the fear the Reader felt was well-conveyed. I think feeling sexually vulnerable is an experience that the vast majority of women (and many other groups of people) probably experience at some point. 

#alucard x you #alucard x reader #hellsing alucard #alucard fanfiction #alucard #alucard hellsing #yandere alucard #yandere #male yandere #hellsing fandom

[songmingisthighs]

Wanbelyn

introduction pt. i | pt. ii | pt. iii

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ch. lvii - basic

neurosurgeon!hongjoong × reader

buy me coffee ?

where love and peace is held, i never expected for this to happen. i planned and i planned, i expected, and i hoped, but it was never you. you held what i wanted hostage to make room for you, the thing that i needed but has no means of acceptance. deny me, live your best life.

"For fuck's sake," Hongjoong grumbled, huffing as he stood from his sitting position on the carpet, leaving Kijoong with his toys and Happy Tree Friends on. Hongjoong doesn't like him watching that but after the little misadventure Kijoong had, he figured he'd relent this once. After all, the disturbing cartoon was nothing compared to the incessant rap of knocks on his front door.

Before Hongjoong could get close, the door swung open and he almost jumped back in shock. It was not (just) because of the abruptness and booming sound, but it was also because he was met with the sight of you rushing in. His brain had barely processed the sight when you took off your shoes and pushed past him, barely sparing him a glance.

"Hey! Excuse me?" Hongjoong called out, his body moving in automation, trying to grab you to talk to you. But as his fingers graze the skin of your arm, you slapped his hand away and pointed a finger to his face (not the finger you preferred but it was fine), "Don't you even fucking start with me, Kim Hongjoong, I'll deal with you later because I have someone more important to tend to," you said, turning back to go to Kijoong. "Oh so NOW you crap on me to my face?" Hongjoong tried talking again but you didn't even bother to look back, "Bite me, asshole," you spat, surprising Hongjoong.

Hearing the commotion, Kijoong snapped his head to the sight and immediately dropped the toys in his hands when he saw you. "(y/n)!" He screeched before his bottom lip quivered and eyes water, his eyebrows furrowed and upon being pulled into your arms, he wailed loudly. It was obvious that Kijoong missed you dearly because he was holding onto your shirt and wrapped hid legs around your waist so tightly.

"Why 'y gone?" He cried out, hiccupping so pathetically that his face turned red.

You were no better.

At the sight of your little boy crying, your eyes watered and you couldn't help but feel your chest clench, in pain seeing him in such a state. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," you pulled him back slightly but only managed to have his face pushed off of you, chuckling tearily as you pushed his hair back, "I'm so sorry for leaving you, buddy, I should have told you I went to see my dad," you apologized profusely but Kijoong kept crying and crying. "I-I-I look, I went and look," he said through sobs but you were able to understand what he was saying. "Yes, I know, I heard you went to look for me and you met my friend, huh?" You tried smiling but still, tears wet your cheeks as the feeling of longing and relief wash over you, "We need to talk about you running away without telling anyone but I am so so so so proud that you were not willing to just go with anyone even though they said that they were my friend," you pecked his forehead and cheeks multiple times which did not calm Kijoong down. You tried putting him back down on the floor but he let out a squeal of disapproval and instead buried his face on your shoulder. You had to calm him down and told him that you were not going to leave him again as you settle to sit on the carpet with the couch supporting your back and a koala strapped to your chest.

Neither you nor Kijoong realized that Hongjoong was watching the two of you closely yet from a distance. His heart hurt seeing his own son missing someone so bad that he just combusted into a teary mess and really, as if he hadn't blamed himself enough.

As much as he wanted to confront you and ask where you were, he knew he was in no position to do that, not when you and Kijoong were basking in each other, letting go of the longing and negative feelings. There was a twinge of jealousy in Hongjoong's chest but he was not about to admit that nor let it show. No matter how much he wanted to approach you and tell you how annoyed he was that you left without saying anything, how you two could've avoided the things that transpired in between so easily, but also how glad he was that you were okay, he simply couldn't let himself be selfish.

With a heavy heart and even heavier steps, Hongjoong quietly retreated to his room, sitting on his bed with his feelings and his heart beating in his palms heavily. He let his bedroom door open to allow the happy voices outside to fill the void of his room. But really, he was allowing himself to feel like he was a part of what was going on outside though he was alone. Due to his own action, yet again.

And it was bitter.

It made him bitter.

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[penkura]

last forever [2/13]

Summary: Zoro only offered to marry you to keep you out of an arranged marriage with a man much older than you. You agreed with the caveat of ending it via annulment once you received word from your parents regarding the original engagement, despite your growing feelings for your close friend.

Pairing: Zoro x Fem!reader, mentioned Sanami later (like epilogue later so chill)

Warnings: Marriage of Convenience, Fake Marriage, referenced sex (waaaaaay later on), mutual pining, Zoro is bad at feelings but what's new there, eventual romance I promise, mention of past attempted assault (I'll warn in that chapter), creepy older dude later on

Note: Why yes I did write this after watching OPLA, why do you ask?

[Ch. 1]

Of course, it just had to be a crazy clown that was your next opponent. You didn't fear clowns but you didn't like them terribly much either, so being up against Buggy the Clown and his crew of pirates was making this day worse for you.

First, Luffy had been snatched away by a freaking bird that he tried to catch and turn into food (how he expected to cook it, you had no idea). You and Zoro quickly followed after, not even stopping to properly pick up the men you found in the middle of the ocean who were calling for help. Even when they tried to rob you, the glares the two of you gave and the slight beating from Zoro, once they realized who he was, the three men you picked up took over the rowing and brought you to Orange Town.

Once you found him, Luffy had already been thrown into a cage by Buggy, Zoro making an attempt to dice the clown who only proved he was perfectly fine afterwards, stabbing Zoro instead.After practically jumping from the rooftop with him still in the cage, the girl gave the key up, before it was swallowed by a little dog. The mayor of the town appeared before you next and you asked for a place to treat Zoro's stab wound and where he could rest, Mayor Boodle taking you all to his house.

"I don't need you to treat it, I'll sleep it off."

Zoro nearly flinched at the glare you set on him, making him take his shirt off so you could see the wound better.

"Sleep it off, what a load of crock," Shaking your head, you threaded a needle and sterilized it with a match, "You know that's not how you heal from stab wounds, dummy."

As you started stitching the wound, Zoro watched you closely like he always did. You'd done this so many times at this point, having been terrified of giving him stitches at first, until the worst wound you'd seen him get. He wasn't anywhere near close to bleeding out from it, but after an hour of it still bleeding, you forced him back onto the hotel bed and started stitching him up, pushing away your fears and the tears that you felt welling up as you did so. When you had finished, Zoro was impressed and thanked you, making you smile before you burst into tears over the whole thing.

"What are you crying for?!"

"I…I've never…done that before!"

He'd never have guessed you hadn't done stitches before, but your work never tore, he took it upon himself to remove them when you said it was safe to do. He didn't want you to start crying again.

After that you stitched up any severe wounds he had, just as you were doing at that moment.

"Okay," you cut the thread and finally nodded once you were done, "Now you can sleep. Don't do anything to tear the stitches though."

"Fine."

You put your items away while Zoro laid down, telling him you were going to see if you could help get Luffy out of the cage and ask about this other girl if she was joining you all or not. Before you left, you gave him another glare.

"You better stay still and sleep."

"I will, trust me on that."

Satisfied, you finally left and Zoro smiled to himself before falling asleep.

Not so bad having her as a wife.

+!+

Your hope that you'd all get out of Orange Town without a fight was gone as you stood in front of Cabaji with your own sword drawn. You had told (yelled at) Zoro to go back to resting instead of bothering to fight this acrobat, turning it into an argument between the two of you.

Zoro believed he was completely fine and could fight, despite you noticing the small winces of pain every now and then. Still though, he wouldn't listen to you and attempted several times to move you out of the way so he could fight.

It angered you more than anything, and you finally turned around and glared at him, Zoro more so thinking it was almost cute rather than scary like you thought it'd be.

"Gosh, why the hell are you such a stubborn man?!"

"Says the equally stubborn woman!"

Luffy watched the two of you, amused at how you acted like you really were a married couple despite you saying it wasn't a real marriage. He was starting to not believe you.

Zoro, on the other hand, was getting more frustrated with you as you placed yourself between him and Cabaji, who watched you two in annoyance at the fact neither of you were fighting him, but were fighting each other.

Get a room geez.

"I don't need you fighting battles for me!"

"You're still injured, you oaf!" You screeched back at Zoro, not stopping an attack from the annoyed Cabaji in time. He threw a kick into your side, sending you towards a building. You only stopped and didn't fly right into the building thanks to Zoro moving quickly enough to stop you, grabbing you around the waist to keep you from hitting anything but him.

"You all right?" He was quiet, but the look on his face told you he was angry. At you or Cabaji, you weren't sure, but you nodded. You'd always felt his bandana made him look scarier when he was in battle, but the way he looked at you this time, despite the anger, was more like he was worried about you, maybe. Zoro would probably never admit such a thing to you if you asked.

You were in pain, hissing a slight bit when Zoro set you down. You figured it was just going to be some bruising, nothing to worry about, even though it hurt at that moment.

Zoro made sure you were safe, before standing back up and setting the harshest glare you'd seen from him yet on Cabaji.

"Don't you dare touch my wife again."

Never had you felt like someone was fighting for you or your honor before then. The fact Zoro willingly called you his wife, that stuck in your head on repeat while you watched him fight and defeat Cabaji, moving past your own pain to hurry over and protect him as he fell asleep again. Of course he'd claim he was healing no problem that was, but you still wanted him to be safe while Luffy defeated Buggy.

Luckily Luffy carried him off to your ship as the townspeople chased you off for a misunderstanding, and you could breathe easily to know you all were safe, the orange haired girl named Nami joining you temporarily.

After you checked Zoro's stitches and for any other wounds, you were surprised by Nami offering you to sit with her in the boat she'd stolen, so you didn't have to be alone with two boys. You took her up on it, and she pulled you close to whisper.

"Hey…Zoro called you his wife…is he legit?"

Your face turned bright red, having already forgotten that because of your quick escape from the town. He really had then, it wasn't just you hearing things.

Was that progress? Would things slowly change and develop for the two of you, could you live as a married pirate couple one day? Have kids even?

Were you getting ahead of yourself? Definitely, considering he'd only said it once and likely wasn't thinking, your assumption due to the possible pain he was still in, even though he would deny it instantly if you even started to ask.

"Umm, hello," Nami snapped her fingers in front of your face, making you shake your head and ask her to repeat what she said, "I asked if Zoro was being honest when he said you were his wife."

You blinked a few times, before finally smiling slightly. "Well…technically, yes, he's being honest."

Nami didn't let you go back to the boys the rest of your ride to the next island, demanding every detail despite you only knowing each other for a few hours.

It looked like you had a new best friend.

+!+

The events in Syrup Village led to your recruitment of a new member, Usopp, and being given the Going Merry as your first, real ship as a crew. You and Nami spent time learning how the ship worked, Usopp eventually joining you and telling stories that you may have known right off the bat weren't entirely truthful. You did enjoy them though, laughing through them during dinner that night alongside Luffy.

"Soooo," leaning over, you gave Usopp a grin, "Kaya huh? That was a nice little kiss there."

Nami burst into a laugh at how wide Usopp's eyes got, before he started stammering and trying to say something, you grinning even more and asking him what it was like to get a kiss.

"Never had one before so I wouldn't know."

"I…it…nice…it was nice…"

You and Nami started doting on Usopp over it, telling him how he could always write to Kaya and keep in touch that way. The romance talk flew over Luffy's head but he still talked about how nice Kaya was and how tough Kuro had been, while Zoro got more annoyed as it went on, eventually leaving the table after he finished his drink and stepping outside, which you did notice right away.

Downing the last of your own bit of wine, you excused yourself from your friends, heading to the deck and finding Zoro there, leaned against the railing with his eyes closed. Normally you'd assume he was sleeping, but since it'd only been about a minute and you knew he didn't sleep standing up (wouldn't have surprised you though), you knew he was still awake and would talk to you.

"Hey," you joined Zoro against the rail, making him look at you and nod slightly while you tilted your head, "What'd you leave for?"

"Tired."

"Why aren't you in bed then?"

"Who can sleep with all the laughing?"

"Oh please, you almost slept through a tornado once."

"Shut up."

You rolled your eyes but smiled, deciding to look out at sea and watch the waves that gently rocked the ship. You'd anchored for the night in the middle of the sea, Nami placing you on the first watch of the night since you said you weren't tired while most everyone else was. You didn't mind, it'd give you some alone time to watch the stars and think, to enjoy being by yourself as you so rarely got to do lately.

"Have you heard from your parents?"

Zoro's question made you shake your head, him sighing once you did. You'd not gotten a single letter from them, your carrier bird only bringing newspapers from home so you could keep up on how things were going that didn't involve your arranged marriage.

You wondered if they even got your first letter at all at this point.

"Not a thing…only newspapers from home.

"Mm."

"They've still got my picture in it as if I've been kidnapped."

"Maybe they didn't get your letter and the papers."

You shrugged, biting your lip. You wanted to say something about it, tell him you didn't want to do the annulment even if your parents wrote back that the arranged marriage was over, that they accepted your current marriage. You'd rather stay married to him, try a relationship before signing any papers, but you also knew that saying anything like that would likely cause Zoro to shut you out, or tell you how he didn't want to be in a relationship, he didn't want to be married whether he knew of your feelings or not.

He'd probably never return your feelings and you'd have wasted your time instead of just doing the annulment, or divorce if your six months passed without a letter.

But, maybe, you could just tell him how you felt right then, see what his thoughts were and go from there.

Maybe.

"Zoro, I–"

"I'm going to bed. Just let me know when you hear anything."

"O-Oh, yeah…sure."

Once he left, you sighed and sunk to the ground, wishing you hadn't been such a coward at the moment and asked him to stay so you could actually talk to Zoro about the situation between the two of you. Granted yes, things had moved quickly since you joined Luffy, but still. There were a few times you should have sat down and talked, but every time you wanted to, Zoro was doing something or sleeping. At this rate you figured you'd never get things settled with him.

"Hey, you good?" Usopp popped up beside you, throwing an arm around your shoulders while you just nodded, not saying a word. He didn't fully believe you, taking note of the slight sadness on your face, before he smiled. "Have I told you about the giant sea monster that attacked my village?"

"Don't think so."

"Oh it was a huge beast! At least forty, no fifty feet!"

The rest of your night was spent laughing at more of Usopp's stories on the deck, enjoying yourself and forgetting your worries for the time being.

Zoro had, however, turned back to go talk to you about your sham marriage before he went to bed. The two of you never properly spoke about it after leaving the town you'd married in, but he was sure that you had feelings for him from the way you acted at times. Overly concerned with his well being, you forcing him to rest in Orange Town, the glances you'd take every now and then too. Everything pointed to you having developed feelings for him, and Zoro didn't want that right now.

He didn't want distractions from his goals and didn't want you distracted from yours. He had to put a stop to your feelings then and there, even if all it ended up being was a pause on your end.

He didn't expect, though, for you to be laughing with Usopp when he made it back to the deck, choosing to watch you for a moment. You smiled and laughed again, shoving Usopp on the arm while he grinned and made a large gesture with his hands, likely an exaggeration in whatever story he was telling you. Zoro didn't know why he had such a tight feeling in his chest seeing this, but it was enough for him after a few minutes of neither of you noticing him. He turned around and returned to his hammock, trying to ignore the annoyance he felt when Usopp and Luffy came into the room, Usopp mentioning how fun you were to talk to.

I'm not jealous. Not at all.

#zoro x reader #roranoa zoro x reader #one piece x reader #reader insert #last forever #fem!reader

[sariahsue]

Jealousy Ch 2

Adrien's point of view

(Chapter one (Marinette's pov) here. Please note that I started this story in the ancient days of May 2021.)

---

Chat Noir almost always felt at home in Marinette's room. It was cozy and warm, lined with layers of fabric, like she was building a soft den. It was so different from his own old and sterile room. His windows let him see outside at the same time they reminded him he would always be disconnected from it. Marinette leaned against him, but tonight, no matter how close he physically was to her, he felt like they were on opposite sides of glass.

Their playing cards had been knocked out of their piles by Marinette's victory dance. A container of leftover noodles lay empty on its side. And Chat Noir held steady against Marinette's weight as she relaxed into his side.

There were so many things he couldn't tell her. So many things he wanted her to understand. "Hey, Bug?"

"Hm?"

"Can I ask you something?"

"Aren't you asking something now?" she joked. "Sure."

He hesitated. Asking was only a few steps removed from the forbidden act of telling. (Not his name. Not how many days it had been since he'd last had dinner with his father, or been given a hug.) He wanted to ask why she'd taken down all her pictures of Adrien. What had he done as his civilian self that had upset her so much? She stayed perfectly polite to him at school.

Instead he asked, "If it weren't for that other guy, do you think you would have fallen for me?"

Marinette leaned away. It wasn't the first time he'd asked a variation of this question. It was almost always on his mind. His rival.

"Um... do you want to play another round of Uno," she deflected, "or should we do something else?"

"Marinette, I'm serious. Would you have?"

She shrugged. "Maybe, I guess. Video games? I have UMS 4."

"Really, that's it? You guess? That's not a real answer."

"Please, chaton. Don't do this to yourself."

He selfishly slid closer to her. Not many people allowed him to be in their space like this, and the need to touch her was too much. If she felt like he was chasing her, she didn't complain. A reminder that at least someone wanted him around.

He didn't stop until he could feel her comfortable body heat against his side again. "I just want to know."

He'd expected a simple yes or no.

"You're kind and compassionate. You're reliable. You're funny." She stopped, taking care to find her next words. He thought she would just tell him no. "We have such a strong connection, and I trust you with my life. You're brave. You're my best friend."

Marinette's voice dropped for the devastating truth. "It would have been so easy. That's the real answer."

Chat Noir struggled to stay still, focusing on not hugging her, not crying, not moving. Even if she didn't love him back, she did in some way love him. She just… loved someone else more. Differently. Who was it? Adrien watched her at school. He knew Alya teased her constantly about her love life and Marinette's inability to talk to the mysterious boy who'd so effortlessly caught her attention. Adrien never overheard his name, though he'd tried.

"So why haven't you talked to him yet?" Chat Noir asked.

"What?"

"If you'd pick him over all that, then you must like him a lot, but you aren't together."

Marinette shifted, looking at him for the first time since gifting him a list of her favorite things about him (a gift he didn't deserve). "And I can't imagine anyone rejecting you, so you must not have asked him out yet."

"I'm... very awkward around him. I'm pretty sure I make him uncomfortable sometimes."

"I doubt it," he said. "So who is he?" Another question he hadn't been able to ask before. But he was tired of the glass in between them. If he couldn't be with her, maybe knowing more about her would help. This nameless boy was such a huge part of her life.

And one of the biggest obstacles in his.

Marinette got up and walked away, her back to him. "We shouldn't be talking about this."

"Why not?"

"Because I hate this!" Her face was pained as she turned to him. "I hate hurting you every time you bring it up."

The headless mannequin was suddenly very interesting. Father didn't have his own mannequin until he was nearly 18. Marinette was more passionate and more talented.

"I'm only curious," he lied. He felt like a bad friend for pushing, but there was only so much he could learn about her from studying the decor in her room. "I just want to know what type of person attracts Ladybug. That's all." And find out what he still lacked.

"I'll tell you under two conditions. One, you stop asking about it. Two, you don't laugh at me."

"Laugh?" he asked. "Why would I laugh?"

"Because you're going to think it's a celebrity crush, and it's not."

He waved to distract her from his face. He hoped it was neutral, but he couldn't be sure. A celebrity? She had a crush on some random celebrity? That's who his competition was?

Marinette groaned. "Adrien Agreste."

He didn't think. Didn't realize he'd stood up until he was walking toward her. The glass was shattering. "Plagg, claws in!"

"NO!" she shrieked, snapping her eyes shut. Had she seen? "What are you doing? Put your suit back on!"

"No."

"I'm not going to look at you."

Plagg bobbed back and forth between the two of them, then flew off to find Tikki. That was as close to permission as he was going to give.

"You have to retransform." Her commanding tone was at odds with the way she backed up, flinching away from him until she hit her desk, hiding her face in an effort to protect him. Or maybe herself.

"No," he repeated, "not until you look."

"You'll have to," she said. "You can't walk out my front door and let people see you. You'll have to leave the way you came in."

"You're just going to keep your eyes closed for the rest of the night?"

She nodded.

Adrien walked over to her, his socked feet stepping lightly over the remains of their time together. He wrapped her in a loose hug, and then waited. After a few seconds, Marinette dropped her hands from her face and sunk into him. He took that as permission to hug her the way he'd always wanted, like he was never going to let her go.

Maybe he didn't have to.

He was the boy. The rival. The obstacle. She could know all of him, and he wouldn't have to feel so fragmented and broken. There would be nothing left to come between them, if only she would open her eyes.

Marinette shivered in his arms. His fire dimmed, replaced with softness at her worry. It was so much better to hold her without thick armor in the way, just a few layers of fabric.

He wouldn't force her to look, but he wasn't above leading her for once. He could tell himself that it would be an advantage, tactically, for her to know who he was. It would strengthen their partnership, but really, he just needed her to know him.

"I'm not opening my eyes," she said.

"Then please just listen to my voice. I won't tell you my name, but please just listen?"

She pushed her face into his neck, skin to skin, and breathed deeply, nodding. Adrien wanted to drop his head on top of hers, but instead only leaned down, letting her hair brush his cheek. Almost nothing in between them.

"When I'm not transformed, I'm much quieter."

"A quiet Chat Noir?" Marinette teased. "What must that be like?"

"I don't show off either. I try to avoid attention, actually. I get too much of it."

Marinette didn't ask him why, though he'd expected it. He hoped it was because she was trying to figure it out despite herself.

"Did you know that we know each other outside the masks? We go to the same school."

He stopped, letting her come to the truth if she was ready. Despite what he wanted, and how desperately he needed to be seen by her, this ultimately had to be her choice. If she wanted to understand, she would.

Marinette's fingers started to roam, first to his ungloved hand, maybe testing to see if he really was detransformed. The hairs on his forearms raised as she drew a line from his wrist to the edges of his rolled up sleeves. Over and across, to his shoulders, a breathless slide along his collarbone, then down the buttons of his shirt, then back up to his shoulders as she breathed into his neck, and her eyelashes tickled him as she opened her eyes.

She wouldn't be able to see his face, but she knew. He rested his head on hers, strengthening his hold on her.

"You're kind and compassionate," he said. "You're brave and creative and amazing. It was so easy to fall in love with you, Marinette."

Her hands slid from his shoulders and wrapped around his neck, holding him just as tightly as he held her. "I love you too, Adrien."

#ml #miraculous #miraculous ladybug #marichat #fanfiction